Fantasy 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡 (𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 & 𝐒𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐫𝐞)

[roxybirdie]

Rated T for mature themes — horror, mild gore, murder, profanity, violence, etc. RpN rules apply. If you're uncomfortable with the aforementioned themes, this isn't the story for you. On a final note, only roxybirdie and Eridian are permitted to post here. Sit back, relax, and enjoy a tale of how two psychopaths became soulmates. ♡

 

[roxybirdie]

New Orleans, Louisiana
The French Quarter
February 15th, 2021

New Orleans was without a doubt prepared for Mardi Gras. Even if it was Monday night (and the biggest celebration didn't commence until the following night), the Big Easy didn't sleep. As various festivities crowded the French Quarter, a small pub deep within the quarter — tucked away from prying eyes — remained unsullied by hedonistic tourists. While the exterior looked old and unassuming — the sign, The Graveyard, was thoroughly worn — it was a local favorite; a hidden gem in the French Quarter. Underneath its rustic charm and outstanding liquor, the Graveyard harbored a dangerous secret; it catered to all the creatures of the night.

Unfortunately for the Big Easy, it was the most dangerous creature of all's favorite.

"Gold for your thoughts?"

A glass filled with amber liquid slid in front of him. He accepted the chilled glass and raised it to his lips. A velvety chuckle rumbled in his throat. "I believe the expression mentions a penny, hon," a refined voice mused. A smooth New Orleans drawl honeyed the platinum blonde's words.

The fae bartender laughed melodiously. "As if you'd accept anything but the best, darling," he reminded.

Demetri merely smiled and raised his glass to Garrus. As he sipped his aged whiskey — an old fae recipe — the vampire surveyed the small pub. Despite the festivities, it was relatively empty. Since sister dearest was out hunting (and knowing her, gathering intel), Demetri sat alone in his usual spot at the bar. It was a rare occurrence to see one twin without the other; they were inseparable. However, before the light-haired vampire joined his sister on her hunt — he always had so much fun hunting with his sister — he received an urgent message. According to his scouts, a trespasser — a filthy vampling — encroached on his territory without his explicit permission and proceeded to run amok. Suffice to say, Demetri wasn't happy. The sheer audacity almost cracked his exuberant charm.

Fortunately, his sweet informant was kind enough to mention the vampire frequented his favorite pub; Garrus deserved a generous gift.

While his sister hunted, Demetri waited for the vampire to arrive. According to the aforementioned fae, the filthy trespasser visited the Graveyard around midnight. Crystalline eyes glimpsed at his expensive wristwatch; 11:55 PM. He lowered his glass and adjusted the rolled sleeves of his pristine blazer, exposing a gold and black mark on his right inner wrist; the gold filigree strokes complemented the black theater masks. Polite society considered it improper to display a soul mark so conspicuously. At the same time, unhidden marks indicated the marked was searching for their soulmate. Demetri was never one to follow the rules; he cared little about the opinions of sheep.

 

[Eridian]

The whole city was wound tight in anticipation, the energy nearly palpable in the air and Nate would be a horrible liar if he claimed that he wasn't thrilled with getting to experience his first Mardi Gras as a resident since he'd moved in months prior. They said he was a bit mad for deciding to look for work in New Orleans but with his experience, he'd found it easy to find himself employed in a law firm and already taking cases on his own in the scant weeks he'd made himself home here. He'd say he came here for the atmosphere when prompted, his accent clean but clearly west coast and not at all native and that was enough to prompt the inquiry more often than he'd like. He supposed it wasn't a complete lie. He did come here for the atmosphere, just not one that people usually anticipated.

Immortality was his quest, one he'd only found himself searching for a short few years at this point. It had begun with surviving an encounter he was certain he wasn't meant to back in college - it was very rare that he pulled his victims with the promise of sex but it was the only way he knew he'd be able to get the man that he'd heard had assaulted students when they frequented a popular bar in town. So he'd played the part, warping his facial features with subtle makeup and clothes that showed skin that he never planned to wear again and flirted his way into pulling the man into a quieter spot. It was meant to be an easy, quick kill and had turned into anything but when he'd found fangs in the juncture of his shoulder instead of the lips he'd expected at his neck while he pulled out his switchblade. It was sheer dumb luck that he hadn't had his jugular ripped out and managed to shock the man with an experienced slice of his throat. He was hardly weak but he'd found that it wasn't very easy to decapitate someone without the proper weapon but he managed it somehow and was forced to confront the new reality he'd found himself thrust into.

If he wasn't already a murderer, there was little doubt that he'd be quite dead and that didn't sit well with him. He had never felt very tied to humanity himself so the idea of remaining a mortal, fragile human for longer than he strictly had to made his skin crawl now that he knew he had other options. Options that meant he would never be mistaken as prey again, options that suited him better than the life he'd been living. To say he'd found himself obsessed with the concept of abandoning his humanity would be an understatement and that's why he'd found himself in New Orleans, very much aware of the city's longstanding supernatural history.

He'd frequented so much nightlife at this point that he could give reviews and that idea had him snorting softly as he found himself walking up to tonight's haunt, an old gem that had been recommended to him by an older coworker that had been born and raised here. Approaching the worn sign that proclaimed the pub as The Graveyard, he found the questioning part of his mind that asked if this would be a waste of his time mercifully quiet. There was no need to dress up before the festivities began tomorrow so his clothing was kept rather casual as he didn't intend to pull attention but instead scope the place out. It was rather quiet and empty when he stepped inside, a stark contrast from the rest of the French Quarter and he was relieved that he at least wouldn't have to fight a crowd while observing the aged but charming pub and it's inhabitants.

He found himself sitting at the bar a few stools down from it's other occupant, politely and wordlessly giving them both space and privacy, and shot the bartender a polite, boyish smile that he was well versed in using to hide his true nature. He pushed his sleeves up to his elbows as he leaned against the bar comfortably, looking perfectly content and unaware despite being honestly hyperaware of his surroundings and his own fragile existence. He'd never bothered to hide his soulmark and he wouldn't now; anyone foolish enough to try and impersonate his soulmate had already found their end and so it would continue to be. "Quiet before the storm? Two fingers of whiskey on the rocks, please. Anything but from the well."

 

[roxybirdie]

Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump—

Cerulean eyes snapped to the entrance. A human man stepped in the pub. As he approached the bar, Demetri appraised the newcomer; mid-twenties, unassuming attire, boyish charm. What a delicious heartbeat; strong and steadfast. He raised his glass and sipped his whiskey, ignoring the hunger gnawing at his throat. While Demetri positively adored the thought of a midnight snack — something about the man was undoubtedly appetizing — retribution took priority. The vampling would pay with interest for disrupting his fun night. Once he drained the rest of his whiskey, Demetri lowered the glass.

"Quiet before the storm? Two fingers of whiskey on the rocks, please. Anything but from the well."

The bartender — Garrus was small and lissome like all fair folk, but he was more than a pretty face — flashed the man a cordial smile. "Coming right up, hon," he announced.

As his friend and informant prepared the newcomer's drink, Demetri glanced at his wristwatch; 12:01 AM. He tutted at the filthy vampling's tardiness. The platinum blonde surveyed the pub. Despite the deep-rooted anger bubbling under the surface, his expression remained open and amicable; a stark contrast to the monster itching to be released. He pivoted and leaned against the bar top, casually resting his elbows against the polished wood. Besides the human occupying a seat to his right a few stools down, a group of werewolves — the alpha and his two strongest enforcers — claimed a booth in the far corner; tucked away from prying eyes.

Jingle-jing!

The bell above the entrance chimed.

"Hey Garrus, the usual—"

"You're late," Demetri announced, silencing the new arrival. Without warning, a hush fell over the crowd. He tilted his head to his left, a full pout marring his lips. He gazed past the human, eyes fixated on his target for the night. Crystalline blue met startled mahogany. "I hate waiting, petit agneau," he pointed out.

The scoundrel — a roguishly handsome man in his early thirties — paled. "Y-you're—"

A chuckle rumbled in his throat. "And here I thought I was going to get stood up!" Demetri slid off his stool and sauntered toward the transfixed man. As he walked past the Graveyard's only human, a delicious aroma washed over him. Great Lord Hades of the Underworld, it was absolutely divine. Despite the mouthwatering scent, Demetri didn't falter. "Don't just stand there, hon. If we're going to continue this date, I demand to be wooed!" he declared imperiously. He tugged at the taller man's wrists, guiding him toward his seat. "You owe me a drink for making me wait. I got all dolled up for you," he pouted.

The man swallowed thickly. "Y-you look great," he rasped.

A delightful laugh escaped his lips. "Your compliments are lackluster, but we'll work on that," Demetri teased, a mischievous gleam evident in his gaze.

Once the supposed couple sat down, Garrus slid a glass to his human customer. "There you go, darling. You must be new. How's the Big Easy treating you so far?" he inquired.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

petit agneau — little lamb
Google Translate Warning

 

[Eridian]

He offered back a warm smile at the endearment from the bartender, quite used to it by now and found his gaze turning to the man a few stools down from him, curious but wary as he watched his gaze wash over the pub. It was clear he was waiting for someone by how he checked his watch but thankfully he wasn't forced to wonder for long who it was as the bell above the door tinkled again at the newest arrival. He took note of the bartender's name as he found his chin resting on his palm as he watched the show unravel, wrist openly and carelessly bared to show the theater masks on the delicate skin there - it was a thoughtless motion, one that showed that he didn't at all care who saw his soulmark. His eyes moved from the newcomer to the man that had been waiting for him, following the rather gorgeous blonde as he made his way over to him.

At first glance, he'd certainly think the two were a couple and wasn't that a shame that two ungodly handsome men were together. But at second glance, the way the new man had paled and stumbled over himself belayed that in favor of what else it could be. After all, Nate himself didn't threaten openly when he found himself needing to and instead much preferred to keep private matters just that and let those foolish enough to earn his ire trip over themselves to try and talk their way out of his anger. Not that it ever worked if he was genuinely upset but that was beside the point. Whoever the beautiful blonde was, it was painfully clear that he wasn't someone to fuck with. Best to avoid that potential mess until he knew more then.

He blinked at the sound of glass sliding to him, broken from his thoughts as his reflexes immediately curled his fingers around it and turned his entire focus on the bartender again. His lips curled up in a pleasant smile and he shrugged a shoulder easily, looking perfectly relaxed despite being fully aware and ready to react to the fact that he was in the lion's den. "It's been pleasant so far," he easily answers back, raising his drink to take a sip. "I moved here a few months ago and I've fallen in love with the city. It's different from where I was raised but it's pleasant. It's also nice to be able to put my French to use every once and a while. Are you a native yourself? Any recommendations?"

 

[roxybirdie]

"Are you a native yourself? Any recommendations?"

A heartwarming smile graced the bartender's face. "Oui, the French language is beautiful," Garrus declared. He flitted to and fro, preparing his friend and his new toy's drinks. The fae didn't pity the dark-haired man's fate. He thanked Mother Gaia he wasn't wiping blood — Demetri was notoriously unpredictable — off the floor; he recently had it polished. "The Big Easy has been my home for awhile now. I recommend the masquerade ball at Persephone, but I hear it requires an invite." The aforementioned establishment was the hottest and most exclusive club in New Orleans. While it was a local favorite, the club required a membership (or the right connections) to enter. "It's tomorrow night after the big parade," he elaborated.

"If you play your cards right, I bet you could—" Garrus paused, gazing at the soul-mark displayed so conspicuously on the human's inner wrist. Without warning, a melodious laugh escaped his lips. Once he recovered, the white-haired man flashed the human a mischievous grin. "If masquerade balls are your thing, darling, I know a man who could score you an exclusive invite. He's a VIP," he announced. Garrus flourished his wrist, gesturing toward the platinum blonde a few stools down. He pivoted, picked up a tray, and approached his customers inhabiting the booth in the far corner.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹​

"Relax, hon. You're so tense!"

The man's grip on his glass tightened. "Why are you doing this?" he whispered.

Demetri tilted his head. "Hm?" He draped his palm on the dark-haired man's shoulder, ignoring the flinch. "It's called a date, petit agneau. You look as if you've seen a ghost." A huff escaped his lips. "Am I a terrible date?" he pouted.

He swallowed. "I—" Suddenly, a musical laugh cut him off.

Cerulean eyes snapped to a certain fae. Garrus was playing the charismatic host to the Graveyard's resident human. A flicker of curiosity was evident in his crystalline gaze. He glimpsed at the unassuming brunette, recalling the human's mouthwatering scent. Demetri experienced a variety of delicious — the mysterious human wasn't his first singer — aromas, but something about the brunette's was profoundly captivating. He wanted a bite, but the man was more than a midnight snack; he was a full course meal with all the fixings. Demetri directed his attention to his new toy, not once assessing the mark displayed so brazenly on the human's inner forearm. He had more important business — like the filthy vampling occupying the seat on his left — than soul-mark inquiries.

 

[Eridian]

An honest smile touched the edges of his lips at hearing the rather pretty bartender agree with him about speaking French being a perk of living in New Orleans and he was more than content to let his coal eyes follow the man as he flitted to and fro while preparing drinks. He was aware of the masquerade ball tomorrow night but knew better than to assume he could get in - he hadn't nearly enough time to build those kinds of connections here as of yet. The suggestion that he could if he played his cards right though piqued his interest and his gaze sharpened slightly before he found himself blinking owlishly at the enrapturing laugh from the man. He certainly hadn't expected that kind of reaction and his eyes followed the bartender's to his naked wrist, realization dawning and that smile vanishing into an indecipherable expression as he considered Garrus carefully. It wasn't hard to tell he knew something Nate didn't and that mischievous grin was only further proof that the ivory-haired man had information.

He didn't have the chance to ask before he was gone to offer drinks to the couple and he turned in his seat enough to watch, taking a sip of his drink as predatory void eyes consider the pretty blonde he'd noticed earlier. What were the chances...? Low. The chances of his soulmate being that inhumanly gorgeous man were slim but he couldn't fathom a reason why Garrus would lie and so he found himself rather openly staring, eyes seeking his wrists for a glimpse to see if there was a telltale mark there that matched his own. He wasn't a moron - if this man genuinely was his soulmate, he was someone to be reckoned with. And soulmate or not, he knew better than to interrupt business that was very clearly ongoing. Let his pretty supposed soulmate finish up with his little toy and then he'd make a move.

Plan set in mind, he drained the last of his drink and flashed Garrus a grin, pleasant facade back on his face instead of the intense predatory calculation that had been there moments before. If the question of whether or not this was a human bar or not remained, he felt confident enough in a sea of unnaturally handsome faces to agree that he most certainly wasn't and it would be wise to play his cards very carefully. He hadn't been foolish enough to come here unarmed and his comfortable posture was an utter lie to the reality of being completely ready to deal with anyone that might intend on making him a snack. "Garrus, was it? I think your friend is a bit busy, it'd be rude to interrupt. But I'll keep your suggestion in mind."

 

[roxybirdie]

"Garrus, was it? I think your friend is a bit busy, it'd be rude to interrupt. But I'll keep your suggestion in mind."

The aforementioned fae simply grinned. Sharp boy. He recognized the situation — Garrus doubted the human perceived the full truth, but he knew Demetri wasn't to be trifled with — and acted accordingly. Intelligent with enough self-preservation to wait; he wasn't a foolhardy swine. Garrus tested the waters and the human predator passed with outstanding colors. His boyish façade was impeccable, but nothing escaped the fair folk. Yes, the brunette was without a doubt his friend's destined. "Suit yourself, honey," he replied blithely. Quicksilver eyes flitted to the couple a few stools down. "Enjoy the show," he chuckled.

Crr-aaa-ck!

Garrus glimpsed at the clock on the wall. "Right on schedule," he mused. The piteous man lasted longer than the bartender anticipated. Fortunately, he delivered the drinks in his less expensive glasses; ordering glassware was notoriously tedious.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹​

Demetri brandished a handkerchief and wiped away the liquor spilled on his frontside. "This was one of my favorite blazers," he huffed. He tutted at the broken glass clutched in the dark-haired man's grip. Rivulets of blood seeped past the vampire's fingers, dripping on the polished hardwood floor. "Such a waste. I told you to relax, darling," he pointed out. Demetri pocketed his handkerchief and unbuttoned his blazer. He removed the soiled jacket, exposing his toned physique underneath; the exuberant blonde wore no shirt. "I should make you pay for my dry cleaning," he pouted.

"Stop," the man rasped.

"I been on my share of terrible dates, but you're certainly a frontrunner for the worse—"

"Enough!" Silence washed over the Graveyard. "We're not on a date. I don't owe you anything," the man growled.

A velvety chuckle rumbled inside his throat. "Maeve's ilk are always so bold," Demetri murmured.

The vampire paled at the name. "Y-you—"

"I recognize her stench, petit agneau," the blonde cut him off. He raised his arm, exposing the gold filigree-lined theater masks branded on his skin like an elaborate tattoo; the pitch black ink contrasted beautifully with his porcelain skin. The back of his knuckles brushed against the trespasser's jawline, evoking a flinch. "I gave you the opportunity to enjoy one final drink with a handsome date by your side and what do you do?" Without warning, Demetri seized the vampire's chiseled jaw in a bruising grip. He slammed the filthy vampling's face against the broken glass on the bar top. "You not only insult me to my face, you also disgrace Garrus and his lovely establishment." The crystalline-eyed man applied more pressure, ignoring the scoundrel's muffled cries. "And what's worse?"

A laugh escaped his lips. It was loud and unabashed; as if he didn't manhandle a grown man twice his size. Demetri flicked his wrist and the man flew. He slid off his stool and sauntered toward the vampling crumpled against the faraway wall. He hummed a tune reminiscent of a lullaby under his breath, unperturbed by the mysterious human (or the Graveyard's other inhabitants) witnessing his wrath.

"P-please—"

"You had the audacity to say you owe me nothing." Demetri seized the man's throat and slammed him against the wall. "When you owe me everything." He tilted his head, assessing the vampire's petrifying fear. The platinum blonde breathed in deeply, inhaling the delectable scent; something about overwhelming fear was unquestionably intoxicating. With his unique gift, he could feed — no blood required — on fear alone. However, it was like a double-edged sword; while he could potentially live without blood, he required blood to strengthen and control his gift. "I'm sure Maeve will be delighted to have her stray back," he purred.

His eyes widened. "No! P-plea—"

"Don't worry, darling." As he maintained his iron grip on the vampling's neck, his free palm grazed the man's leather jacket. Slender fingers traced circular patterns on the worn material. "I'll add a bow and everything." All the sudden, Demetri plunged his hand in the trespasser's chest and ripped out his heart. Once he released his grip on the dark-haired man's neck, the vampire collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut. Demetri pivoted and approached the bar. "Garrus, be a dear and have this gift wrapped," he announced blithely.

"Would you like the rest of him gift wrapped too?" the aforementioned fae inquired cheekily. He accepted the bloodied heart without batting an eye.

He laughed. "Don't be silly, hon. Just the head is fine." Demetri sat down and retrieved his handkerchief. "Charge the expenses to my account." Behind him, the alpha werewolf and his enforcers carried the corpse outside and cleaned the mess. A few minutes later, it looked as if nothing happened.

 

[Eridian]

The grin on the bartender's lips was proof enough that he'd been tested and had approval - it was a relief to see and he didn't let out the breath he wanted to and instead blinked politely at the endearment and followed those silver eyes down to the couple as he was offered to enjoy the show. He didn't have to wait as the glass in the newcomer's grasp splintered and spilled it's contents everywhere over the beautiful blonde, eyes flitting to bloody fingers before rising back up to watch the confrontation.

He had no doubt by now that his earlier assessment was correct. The blonde was not someone to fuck with by how calmly he handled it and how even Nate could see the dark-haired man losing his patience with the confrontation despite his earlier fear. He knew the tactic well and decided to take Garrus' advice and made himself comfortable in the certainty that attention wouldn't be on him for the next few minutes while the blonde beauty was working his charm.

He watched, he listened and he absorbed - this certainly wasn't a human bar, he had no doubt of that as he listened in and nearly sighed in relief at finally finding what he was looking for but instead smothered the sound. His eyes caught on the pitch and golden ink on the man's wrist when his arm raised to brush knuckles over the other man's face soft enough to still make him flinch. He didn't outwardly react other than his attention zeroing down to his supposed soulmate, enraptured by the growing sense of violence he could feel building in the room.

He wasn't wrong as fingers clenched the man's face and slammed him down against broken glass and he wasn't sure if he was still keeping the raw want off of his expression as he watched his other half manhandle and torment his chosen victim. Yeah, he was no human man with the strength he displayed at flinging the man across the room but his gaze didn't leave the blonde as he watched him approach and pin the man yet again. He didn't flinch at the sudden gore, at pretty fingers ripping into his chest and pulling out his heart. He wasn't surprised at all as he watched him approach Garrus again after abandoning the cooling corpse and offer him the heart, which the bartender took without even a blink. This wasn't uncommon, then.

He found himself blinking slowly, finally pulling his eyes away from the blonde long enough to look at the heart in Garrus' hands as the body behind was cleaned up and wished he hadn't finished off his drink already. "If you want it to keep, you have a bar full of liquor. Bacardi would work well enough," he comments to the white-haired man, wary of speaking directly to the blonde just yet as he flashes a boyish smirk. "Though I have to wonder if you even have to worry about it rotting. You could tie it up with a pretty bow to send to whoever you were intending if you seal it in a jar though. Might not have the shock factor you were intending though."

 

[roxybirdie]

"Might not have the shock factor you were intending though."

Delicate fingers placed the bleeding — the minimum gore surrounding the carved muscle demonstrated Demetri's meticulous precision and impeccable control — heart on a plate he procured from the shelving below. It was a temporary resting spot until the snow-haired man prepped the parting gift. It wasn't his favorite responsibility — to be frank, Garrus abhorred touching and handling bleeding organs — but he had enough self-preservation to comply. At this point, the bartender was desensitized to his best customer's brand of violence. Garrus silently acknowledged Mother Gaia for his fortune; it could have been a lot bloodier than a carved heart. His friend's ire (and consequent wrath) was unpredictable; the uncultured swine should be — not that it mattered anymore — grateful he received a swift death. More often than not, Demetri prolonged the suffering. "My, my, aren't you adorable," the silver-eyed fae teased.

The human wasn't in the least fazed by the brutal murder. On the contrary, the brunette appeared captivated by his destined's violence. While his expression conveyed nothing hinting the undeniable attraction, Garrus could feel the man's overwhelming want in the air. His experience with the supernatural was as clear as night; the Graveyard was warded against bloodthirsty hunters and unknowledgeable humans. He hummed at the dark-eyed man's recommendation. "I would hate to waste a good dose of Bacardi on an unrefined scoundrel," he mused. Garrus waved his hand and summoned a wooden box from the storage room behind the bar. The dark oak gleamed an unnatural gold; a byproduct from the Celtic runes engraved on the polished surface. He opened the lid, retrieved the bloodied heart, and stored the organ inside the rectangular box. The white-haired man snapped his fingers and suddenly, a pristine white business card materialized on the bar top.

"You're an absolute gem, Garrus. I positively adore your warded boxes," Demetri announced. The platinum blonde appeared next to the Graveyard's only human like a suave specter. He leaned forward, retrieved the blank business card, and accepted the offered sharpie. "I know you aren't fond of heads. Nikolay and his men will prepare the final gift." With a flourish, Demetri wrote a short message and slid the glossy card inside the wooden box.

The aforementioned fae closed the box and waved his palm over the wooden surface. All the sudden, a single long stem black rose draped over the engraved lid; Demetri's signature. Garrus conjured a gold ribbon and bounded the rose against the box, forming an elaborate bow. "You always have a flair for the dramatics, mon Seigneur," he chuckled. He slid the wooden box toward the platinum blonde.

Demetri accepted the box. One of his wolves would deliver the message before sunrise. He flicked his wrist and summoned his soiled blazer. As he draped the damp jacket over his left arm, the cerulean-eyed vampire directed his full attention to the human occupying the stool on his left. Crystalline blue met dark charcoal. "Welcome to New Orleans, Yeux Charbonneux," he purred with an enchanting smile. All traces of his previous ire vanished, as if he didn't murder a grown man in cold blood. Not a single speckle of blood stained his fingertips. His handkerchief was nowhere to be seen.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

mon Seigneur — my Lord
Yeux Charbonneux — Smoky Eyes
Google Translate Warning

 

[Eridian]

He found himself shrugging at the implication of being adorable as he watched Garrus prepare the heart, shrugging back at him simply and choosing not to find it offensive. Compared to long-lived and undoubtedly more powerful creatures, he supposed he could see his point of view even though the idea of even being considered lesser rankled him deeply. "Fair enough," he offers back at the rebuttal of wasting good alcohol, watching hungrily at the blatant power of simply summoning a wooden box.

His attention pulled back to the blonde at his voice, watching the interaction between them curiously and found himself getting a much clearer eyeful of the well-known mark on the man's wrist that matched his own as he scrawled his short message. He found himself wondering just what the poor fool had done to earn this kind of ire and determined quickly that he would tread lightly, soulmate or not, and avoid a similar fate. He held no illusions that the mark on his wrist would save him from a similar fate is he didn't mind himself.

He was already watching the rather handsome blonde by the time cerulean found obsidian and he was not at all fooled by the disarming, enchanting smile aimed at him though he couldn't deny that it made his heart speed slightly. "Merci, Yeux Saphir," he purrs back with a slow smirk as he tilts his head slightly to the side, openly and curiously considering this man. "I admit I didn't expect to watch a murder not from my own hands tonight. Not an unpleasant surprise though. Some people really don't understand the value of shutting up."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Yeux Saphir - Sapphire Eyes

 

[roxybirdie]

"Merci, Yeux Saphir,"

A delightful laugh escaped his lips. "The French language is positively gorgeous, isn't it?" He cocked his head to the side, appraising the handsome brunette. Despite the obsidian-eyed man's unassuming ensemble and mortal frailness, Demetri recognized the predator lurking beneath. Should he target the man, the attractive mortal would undoubtedly retaliate without remorse. The platinum blonde would bet his entire fortune the brunette was armed. "Oui, the petits agneaux never learn," he chuckled. A mischievous gleam was evident in his sapphire gaze. "Then again, it wouldn't be fun if there isn't a little chaos." Demetri snapped his fingers and suddenly, one of the wolves — one of Nikolay's enforcers — loomed behind him. He conversed with the werewolf in rapid Russian, handing the enforcer the wooden box. The hulking man accepted the box and inclined his head, acknowledging the order. Once the dark-haired man vanished, the blonde directed his attention to the winsome stranger. "I would love to see your brand of chaos," he purred. Demetri draped his soiled jacket over the bar top and raised his left arm. He lightly trailed his fingertips down the mortal's bicep, the touch featherlight and playful.

Thump, thump, thump—

His gums absolutely burned. At this proximity, the mortal's tantalizing heartbeat and appetizing scent was unquestionably maddening. The cerulean-eyed vampire hummed noncommittally, as if his primal instincts didn't urge him to sink his teeth in the gorgeous stranger's jugular. He lowered his gaze, mapping the contours of the brunette's shoulders. "I have a feeling you'd put on quite the show—" Demetri paused, zeroing in on the mortal's exposed forearms. Without warning, he seized the dark-eyed man's wrist and raised it closer to his face. His thumb brushed over the familiar gold filigree strokes surrounding the pitch black theater masks. He grew silent, scrutinizing the elaborate soul-mark. His expression was blank, a stark contrast to his previous ebullient charm.

All the sudden, he snorted. A few seconds later, chuckles rumbled inside his throat. Eventually, Demetri threw his head back and laughed. It was loud and unrestrained, far more boisterous than his recent cackles. A tinge of undeniable madness darkened the euphoric sound. The platinum blonde loosened his iron grip and retracted his palm. "It's been a long time since I've been genuinely surprised, Yeux Charbonneux," he mused. He claimed a seat on his soulmate's — his blood positively sang at the thought — right. "Garrus, hon, be a dear and fetch me an Ambroisie Rouge Sang," he announced. His eyes not once wavered from the captivating mortal.

A few minutes later, the aforementioned fae placed a cocktail glass filled with shimmering dark crimson liquid in front of him. Demetri picked up the blood-infused drink — a secret fae recipe for vampires — and sipped the delectable concoction. Immediately, the intense burning sensation in his throat ceased. The blonde unmistakably adored fae magic.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Ambroisie Rouge Sang — Blood Red Ambrosia
Google Translate Warning

 

[Eridian]

He found himself inclining his head in agreement at French being a beautiful language on the ears, meeting his gaze without hesitation as he's appraised and he knew quite well that this gorgeous man could see underneath his skin to the predator that lie underneath the polite facade and humanity that had only ever served to hold him back from what he wanted. He was patient as he listened, watched, absorbed the way Demetri commanded those around him, caught faint snippets of what little Russian he could understand, and took the faint moment to assess exactly where he'd go from here in regards to his soulmate. He offered a slow smirk at the comment on his own brand of chaos, finding it immensely amusing that they seemed to be on similiar lines of thought regarding the other.

"Ah, spoilers though. I have very few tricks up my sleeves and I need everyone since I'm swimming in a sea of much bigger, longer lived fish than myself. Bold, not stupid. Maybe I'll show you if you make it worth the risk," he murmurs back pleasantly, dark eyes crinkling slightly to show his honest amusement as he rides the line between cheeky and risque considering how he'd seen this man brutally murder minutes before. The fingers trailing over his arm had him wanting to lean in closer but he knew better than to look eager - he wasn't some ditsy, enraptured mortal man that could so easily entranced into baring his throat and it wouldn't at all do to give even a hint of that impression.

That said, he was rather enjoying the man's company, enjoyed having that cerulean gaze looking him over, mapping the dips and curves below his chin and he was steadily becoming more and more assured of the likelihood that he was a vampire when he spoke again, beginning to tell him that he thought Nate would put on a good show before he cut himself off. Coal followed the gaze, curious as to what had stopped him so thoroughly in his tracks, and he froze at his bare wrist. Ah. So he hadn't noticed before this exact moment. It didn't surprise him in the slightest when his wrist was grasped and raised to the other man's face, allowing his soulmate to manhandle him just a bit for the purpose of seeing their shared soulmark.

He'd have done the same if he thought his soulmate was human, admittedly, so he couldn't hold it against him as he knew what he was doing. Studying, examining, looking for the faintest error or mistake in the mark that would signify it as a fraud. He could only wonder how many years the blonde had to burn the image of his own mark into memory and could undoubtedly tell if anyone was stupid enough to try to fake it. After all, Nate had been able to tell the two times he'd had someone try to fake being his own soulmate. He wasn't worried about passing or failing this inspection even with his soulmate's expression being completely unreadable, he knew that it was genuine from first glance at the vampire's wrist.

Snort turned to chuckle turned to demented laughter and it was only good manners beaten into him that kept him from gawking at the batshit insane cackle that left his soulmate. He should have expected his soulmate to be just as off his rocker as he was but it was only now occuring to him and he found himself slowly and genuinely grinning back at him as his wrist was released, not bothering to rub at the spot where his fingers had been moments before.

"I've been told that I am full of surprises," he chimes pleasantly, watching his soulmate order from Garrus and he uses the time to openly look the man sitting at his side up and down curiously. "Nate is my name, I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. I appreciate you deciding on a drink from Garrus instead of attempting to find one from me. Despite my humanity, I'm not a fan of being percieved as anyone's dinner."

 

[roxybirdie]

"Bold, not stupid. Maybe I'll show you if you make it worth the risk,"

Demetri simply grinned and raised the martini glass to his lips. Undoubtedly bold. While the Graveyard catered to humans, the establishment was primarily a supernatural hotspot. Mortals who willingly brave the enchanted pub are either unmistakably courageous or recklessly foolish. The gorgeous man — your soulmate, his mind hissed with delight — may be daring, but he was far from idiotic. He recognized his mortality and consequent disadvantage. The handsome brunette may be human, but the crystalline-eyed vampire didn't make a habit to underestimate mortals. Yeux Charbonneux was a human predator; a dangerous beast who didn't require fangs or claws to rip his targets to shreds. Demetri waited a long time for his destined — he dreamed of the moment his soul would be complete — but he wasn't delusively blind to the threat his soul-marked posed. If push came to shove, his soulmate wouldn't hesitate to end him.

The platinum blonde may appear exuberant and whimsical — a superficial pretty face — but he didn't claw his way to the top because he was simple-minded. "Oh, I know I would make it worthwhile," he murmured. His sapphire eyes glinted impishly. "I guarantee it'll be worth the risk," he mused. Demetri downed the rest of his drink and placed the cocktail glass on the bar top. He swiped his tongue across his upper lip, wiping away the last remnants of the blood-infused concoction.

"I'm not a fan of being perceived as anyone's dinner."

"Demetri, but you may refer to me as Demi," the blonde-haired vampire introduced. His mischievous grin softened into something genuine; a rare smile initially reserved for his beloved sister. "I originally intended to make you a full course meal. Your scent is absolutely divine, but I have no doubt you would kill me if I acted on my instincts." Demetri lowered his sapphire gaze, scrutinizing the brunette's frame. A hint of amusement was evident in his crystalline eyes. "I know you're armed," he chuckled. The free-spirited blonde flourished his wrist, gesturing toward the relatively empty establishment. "No mortal has graced this pub unprotected unless they're preposterously foolish or unquestionably arrogant. I know you're anything but stupid," he elaborated.

He propped his elbow on the bar top and rested his temple against his fist, facing the gorgeous man. Nate, his mind reminded. A playful smirk graced his face. "What are you really in New Orleans for, Yeux Charbonneux?" he drawled. Demetri didn't know his soulmate's true motives. However, humans rarely brave the Graveyard unless they're after something. Was it business — what kind of business, he wasn't certain — Nate sought or pleasure?

 

[Eridian]

The pretty grin and assurance that it would most certainly be worthwhile was almost expected and he was finding it equally delightful and ever so slightly eerie to be faced with a reflection of his own soul, to be able to guess this unearthly beautiful man's reactions based solely on how Nate anticipated he himself might react. There wasn't the faintest doubt in his mind that he'd found his soulmate as he watched him finish his drink, staring into that lovely sapphire as if trying to commit the shade to memory right up until his tongue swiped across his upper lip to clean off the red stain there that he had no doubt was at least partially blood.

The nickname offered was only faintly surprising to him in comparison to the way that delightfully mischievous grin softened into something that felt so much more genuine when aimed at him - he had no doubt that very few ever had it aimed at them. He damned the way it made his pulse stutter at the sight of it and forced himself to focus on his words, bringing his marked arm back against the bar, fingers cradling his jaw as he forces himself to at least act halfway relaxed. It wasn't entirely difficult, the honesty at hearing that he originally had been intended to be his soulmate's meal was subtle reassurance that it was no longer the case.

He smiled placidly, clearly making no attempt to confirm or deny that he was both armed and would certainly kill anyone foolish enough to try to sink fangs into him. It was surely answered enough anyway. "I've had a vampire try to nibble on me once. Just once," he offers lightly. "I imagine if I wasn't myself, I would have ended up dead. Fortunately, he thought he was hunting me when I was hunting him. Quite a shocking way to be introduced to the concept of being on the bottom of the food chain when you'd previously thought yourself at the top."

The brunette smirked slowly back at how perceptive his soulmate was upon being asked what he was really doing in The Big Easy and he found himself rather comfortably leaning in slightly to the undoubtedly older man, ebony eyes glittering in amusement. "Come now, Yeux Saphir," he purrs softly, voice dropping an octave and it's very clear that Demi isn't the only one between them both that's capable of seduction. "Do you really think your soulmate could be satisfied with that awareness? That they'd tolerate soft, fleeting, vulnerable humanity when exposed to that knowledge? I'm in New Orleans to be rid of it. It doesn't suit me and I have no intention of living and dying a paltry mortal life. I came here for immortality."

 

[roxybirdie]

"Quite a shocking way to be introduced to the concept of being on the bottom of the food chain..."

He raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "Oh?" Demetri didn't offer a word of sympathy (or pity) or expressed concern. He didn't react with cruel amusement or delivered a signature quip. "Oui, quite the horrific introduction." If anything, the blonde appeared more intrigued than amused. "Mortals may be at the bottom, but as you demonstrated, they're far from helpless," he announced. A dark chuckle rumbled in his throat. "Even pitiful sheep can lash out if cornered like wounded animals," he mused. Demetri flashed his soulmate a wicked grin. "It makes crushing them a lot more worthwhile." For a split second, a predatory gleam was evident in his sapphire gaze. However, the demented glint swiftly vanished under his enchanting façade.

It was peculiar. Interacting with Nate was like gazing in a mirror and conversing with himself; it wouldn't be the first time. On the outside, the captivating man and him were like night and day — Nate was brunette, he was blonde; Nate's eyes resembled the darkest charcoal, his were like liquid sapphire. Beyond the surface, Demetri witnessed the darkness brewing under his destined's placid veneer. The way his soulmate referenced murder so casually as if they were discussing the weather; the cold intelligence beneath his winsome smile and boyish charm; it felt as if Demetri was staring directly into his soul. Despite the uncanny resemblance, Nate and him weren't flawless replicas. On the contrary, they were two sides of the same coin. Unmistakably similar, but at the core, unique. Soulmates are destined to complement each other; a perfect balance.

Until he met Nate, only sister dearest was the closest thing to balance and stability. While the handsome mortal was destined to be his equal, Demetri wouldn't place his trust in a complete stranger so carelessly; his faith (and unwavering loyalty) was earned. The connection was undeniable, but the crystalline-eyed vampire wouldn't let a soul-mark control him without his consent; not even his beloved soulmate could escape his wrath.

"Come now, Yeux Saphir,"

Demetri hummed appreciatively. He leaned in boldly, meeting the seductive purr with a coquettish grin. "I don't make a habit to assume without looking at all the facts first, Yeux Charbonneux," he murmured. The platinum blonde raised his hand and lightly trailed his fingertips up his soulmate's forearm. "I like to dot my I's and cross my T's first." It crossed his mind. If his soulmate truly complemented his soul, he would only accept the best of the best. His other-half wouldn't submit to his fragile human shell. Once Nate confirmed his fleeting assumption, a breathtaking smile graced his face. "You came to the right place, Yeux Charbonneux. The Big Easy is where the darkest misfits like to play." The seemingly angelic grin was positively devilish. "If you seek immortality, I'm certain you can find the right source. However, immortality isn't free; everything comes with a price." Sapphire met obsidian. "You best tread carefully, hon. The Master of the City has complete dominion over New Orleans. They aren't particularly fond of unauthorized turnings," he warned. His smile widened. "I doubt that'll stop you, oui?"

 

[Eridian]

He watched his soulmate carefully, only a measure of trust extended to the other man in the thought that he wouldn't instantaneously try to murder his soulmate but being completely aware that Demi would undoubtedly put him down if he gave him a good reason. He had no intention of giving him even the slightest reason to as he listened and stared back into that predatory sapphire gaze, not at all believing the facade that came back up almost instantaneously.

After all, he knew himself well enough to know that the polite veneer was just an offering to those weaker that couldn't handle the brunt of the madness that lurked under and he found himself curiously wondering if he would even bat an eye at getting to see the deepest, darkest depravity of his soulmate. He doubted it. He couldn't fathom it at any rate. Soulmates were meant to compliment the other, to be the balance to the other. He could already see it too, the way they could work well together and he'd be lying to say he didn't crave that connection now that he'd found it. He'd never really held out hope that his soulmate could really match him or keep up with him but staring at this pretty, batshit insane face had him wondering if he could dare to want.

Seduction was met in kind, as he'd hoped, and his lips curled up higher to display his satisfaction at having fingertips trailing lightly up his bare forearm, clearly welcoming the touch despite how he knew that being in this man's grasp could bode ill for his health if things went sour. He wondered if Demi would be surprised by his rather forward and honest answer and decided he was rather pleased with telling him upfront for the gorgeous smile he was rewarded with. He found himself shrugging at the question posed to him, knowing that even despite his natural comfort around this man, he had to tread carefully even without the warning.

"I have no intention on stepping on anyone's toes," he finds himself drawling softly, considering his words carefully with a pleasant and almost cheeky smirk on his lips. "But you're right in the assumption that it won't stop me. I would hope that I could get that authorization before I age too much more, but if I come to the conclusion that I won't, then I will seek out alternative methods. I will not remain human past my thirtieth birthday, I've already made that decision. I'll accept the consequences when we come to that." Blunt, honest and at least aware that there would be retribution should he have to go that route.

"I don't suppose it would be to forward for me to ask my soulmate for assistance in this matter? You are very clearly someone of power here in New Orleans. I have no doubt you have your own connections. I could make it quite worth your while and would be in your debt should you find yourself willing to help me shed my humanity."

 

[roxybirdie]

"I have no intention on stepping on anyone's toes,"

Brutally honest and to the point — just as Demetri predicted. A flicker of satisfaction washed over his crystalline gaze. His soulmate passed his first test with outstanding colors; the platinum blonde wouldn't accept anything less from his destined. Demetri trailed his fingers up his soulmate's shoulder, lightly skimming the fabric surrounding the handsome brunette's neck. While his fingertips brushed over the collar, he playfully avoided direct skin contact. "I have a feeling you would move mountains to achieve your end goal, Yeux Charbonneux," he drawled with a Cheshire grin. All the sudden, the veins surrounding his eyes raised and darkened to a pitch black. His white sclera blackened, heightening his sapphire gaze. "How you would utterly destroy those who stand against you." His crystalline eyes illuminated a brilliant (and daunting) crimson. Demetri lifted his hand and summoned his claws.

Suddenly, the atmosphere intensified. Glittering black sand sprinkled over the soul-marked. As the sand coalesced and split into various nightmarish shapes, Demetri delicately caressed his soulmate's jawline, the wickedly sharp claws barely grazing the pale flesh. A low hum, almost reminiscent of a lullaby, washed over the empty establishment. It was the same tune the light-haired vampire hummed before he carved out the filthy trespasser's heart. "The amount of blood you've spilled has woven irreversibly with your natural scent. It takes unimaginable talent to permanently alter your mortal aroma," he purred.

His lips curled back wickedly. Slowly, his canines lengthened into sharp points; the top row somewhat longer than the bottom. A nightmarish horse danced around his head, brushing over his porcelain skin like a lover's caress. Demetri retracted his claws and lowered his arm. He leaned back casually, as if he didn't summon his vampiric features. The black sand and auditory hallucination are glimpses — a mere taste — of his unique gift.

"I don't suppose it would be to forward for me to ask my soulmate for assistance in this matter?"

Demetri hummed appreciatively. "How perceptive of you," he mused. He didn't sound in the least surprised. The crimson-eyed vampire tilted his head. "I could help you," he began. Sharp eyes scrutinized Nate. "I could also kill you and rid myself from a potential threat." Not a hint of remorse was evident in his velvety tone. If his soulmate gave him a cause for retribution, Demetri wouldn't hesitate. While he waited (and searched) a long time for his other-half, the pretty-faced blonde wouldn't immediately submit to the bond and bare his neck like a submissive wolf. "But," he interjected. Without warning, his vampiric features vanished. Vibrant sapphire met pure obsidian. Once the black sand disappeared, the auditory illusion ceased. "It's been a long time since someone captured my interest." A chuckle rumbled in his throat. He removed a solid gold signet ring from his right index finger and placed it on the bar top. The ring was simple in design with an elaborate insignia — a cursive "P" enclosed within a filigree circle — engraved on the surface.

"I cordially invite you to the annual masquerade ball hosted at Persephone tomorrow night. Consider the ring your first step to immortality. All members require a ring to enter," Demetri announced. Even if the ring didn't fit Nate, it was enchanted by the fae to adjust accordingly. "Persephone is primarily a supernatural domain. I'd come armed if I were you, Yeux Charbonneux," he teased. The warning was merely a jest; Demetri was aware his soulmate wouldn't brave the unknown without a semblance of protection.

 

[Eridian]

The goal at this point was to stay on his toes and roll with whatever his other half decided to throw at him - it wasn't a question of if he was being tested, only if he would pass. He felt rather confident in himself but seeing the flicker of satisfaction on the fair-haired man only in turn satisfied himself. He knew he was worthy, it was just a matter of proving it to his soulmate. He couldn't find it in himself to be offended - he'd never met a human that could match him so it stood that he would have to be treated excessively to prove his own humanity wouldn't limit him. Limit them if they decided to go down that route one day. Nate himself couldn't abide weakness so he didn't begrudge his soulmate in the slightest for being the same.

The shiver that ran up his spine at the fingers crawling up his shoulder was completely involuntary as he listened to the honey-sweet purr of his match voice his thoughts on how far Nate would go to achieve his goals. He wasn't wrong in the slightest of his assessment, Nate had already in fact destroyed anyone that had stood in his path and refused to move. But something about being told as such made it hit harder and he was glad he hadn't blinked when starting at Demi as his inhumanity visibly rose to the surface.

He was beautiful. It wasn't a strong enough word and his mind stuttered to a stop as inky veins popped out around his eyes and his sclera darkened too highlight the ice of his eyes. By the time claws were summoned, he was certain his facade had crumbled and he looked utterly awestruck and captivated by his soulmate in his glory. His fingers itched to touch the pitch sand that circled him that shifted and coelesced into horrors around him though he couldn't bring his gaze away from his intended, struck silent by the display of power.

Leaning into the deadly claws brushing at his jaw probably wasn't the most sane or wise decision, but it felt right and he knew he could trust his instincts to a degree. His soulmate wouldn't kill him right this moment, not when he was still testing him and deciding his worth. And he'd be lying if he said it didn't feel nice to lean into those lethal fingers with a tiny, wicked grin and half lidded eyes as an eerie lullaby filled his ears.

His gaze found his mouth and a glimpse of those predatory fangs and he had to swallow down a groan of complaint as his soulmate pulled away. It took a moment for him to register the knowledge and subtle compliment that his countless murderers had imprinted themselves on his scent before he was focusing on his response to his question again. He ignored the contentment at the praise and instead focused on the hot and cold response he was offered with just a sprinkling of death threat added in and found himself missing the inhuman features as they vanished as suddenly as they appeared and he could only hope it wasn't too terribly obvious.

"I would hope I would be able to keep your interest. Though I can't blame you for being doubtful at finding out your soulmate is human," he finds his voice and it's mercifully steady as he blinks at the signet ring set on the bar for him. He listens to him carefully before moving to pick it up and slide it on his right hand ring finger, completely aware of the implication as he considers the gold.

"Fret not, Yeux Saphir," he murmurs, considering him from under eyelashes, utterly predatory and working through how dangerous this invitation actually is even with the warning. "I am practiced enough to defend myself. What is the dress code, if you don't mind me asking? I expect we'll both meet there."

 

[roxybirdie]

"Though I can't blame you for being doubtful at finding out your soulmate is human,"

A dark laugh escaped his lips. "Oh, honey, only the weak-minded underestimate mortals," Demetri chuckled. He flicked his wrist and summoned a pen and paper behind the bar top. With a flourish, the cerulean-eyed blonde recorded his personal number. He slid the paper toward Nate. "Humans are like filth under the bottom of my boot, but they pose a very real threat," he elaborated. He snapped his fingers and the pen returned to its original spot. "Don't hold back and we shall see if I decide to keep my interest," he mused. Demetri raised his hand and unsheathed a single claw. Without warning, he seized his soulmate's right palm and lifted the frontside closer to his face. Ignoring the potential risk of retaliation, the light-haired man carved a single rune on his other-half's flesh. He whispered in Greek under his breath and all the sudden, the rune flashed a vibrant sapphire and the fresh wound closed. Demetri released Nate's hand and rewarded the handsome man a wicked grin. "Consider it a sign of my sponsorship and a gift for a delightful evening," he drawled. In reality, the platinum blonde was staking his claim. A single glimpse of the temporary rune and the Big Easy would know who the captivating human belonged to.

From his peripheral, Demetri examined his wristwatch. Dawn was rapidly approaching. It almost pained him to cut the evening short, but with his recent discovery, the sapphire-eyed vampire needed to prepare for the following evening. Demetri would be lying if he said he wanted to leave. Nate was an intriguing mortal and his reactions — Sweet Lady Persephone of the Underworld, his awestruck face was utterly divine — were positively exquisite. Perhaps, a part of him anticipated fear. His soulmate was without a doubt vigilant. However, Nate wasn't afraid. On the contrary, he reveled in the power Demetri demonstrated. His apparent fearlessness (and borderline recklessness) prompted him to accept his other-half's proposition.

Should his soulmate continue to pass his trials, Demetri may consider acknowledging the bond and accept Nate as his equal. While the chemistry was undeniable, the connection was incomplete. Tradition dictated soul-marked consummate the soul bond. Demetri didn't bed mortals unless he desired a midnight snack and even then, it was rare his meal lasted before he lured them to his bedroom.

"Fret not, Yeux Saphir,"

"Formal black-tie. I'll admit, I'm rather intrigued what masquerade mask you'll decide," Demetri announced. He met the predatory gleam with a demented grin. "I have no doubt you'll provide a lovely surprise," he purred.

 

[Eridian]

The dark laugh that fell from his soulmate's lips was enough to pull a subtle shiver down his spine - not from fear, but from the pure pleasure of being the one responsible for it. He didn't bat an eyelash at the magic so casually displayed to him at the summoning of a pen and paper and didn't dare break eye contact as he picked up the paper and tucked it away for safekeeping, not giving him the option to easily retake the offering now that he had it. He inclined his head just slightly at the assertion that humans were filth but dangerous in their own right - he knew his own knowledge only barely scratched the surface of that truth, but he didn't doubt it in the slightest when he knew how heavily humans outnumbered non-humans.

His lips quivered in an almost-smirk at the comment about not holding back; he had no intention on showing his soulmate anything but the best parts of himself, after all. Well, what he discerned were the best parts of himself at least - ruthlessness, intelligence, cunning, and a creative flair for the dramatic. Thoughts of just best how to display his better, more predatory qualities to impress his soulmate circled his head just enough to distract him from realizing what said soulmate intended when his palm was seized in a grip he knew better than to struggle out of. Instead, he tensed like a snake coiling to strike and considered the beautiful blonde as his hand was brought to his face and a single claw dug into his flesh. He considered retaliation for a split second before he forced his tense body to relax as he realized that it was a mark that was being carved into his flesh. He didn't even flinch in pain or show any kind of discomfort, instead displaying a subtle fascination and curiosity with the marking being put there that had little rivulets of blood dripping down his fingertips before a breathed foreign word and flash of sapphire had the wound entirely healed over.

He blinked in surprise and took his hand back when he was released, considering the marking curiously before looking up to Demetri's handsome face grinning wickedly at him. The explanation had him humming softly in agreement, seeming to realize that it wasn't something as simple as a mark of sponsorship and more of a claiming brand. If it had been anyone else than his soulmate that had dared to draw a brand into his skin, he would have been furious but he couldn't find that anger in this situation. Likely because it wasn't exactly untrue - he did belong to Demetri just as Demetri belonged to him even though they hadn't explicitly stated as such.

"Well, I suppose that it really depends on how far your knowledge stretches from New Orleans," he purrs back, finally looking up from the mark on his hand to sapphire again, brushing his thumb over the healed mark. "I already had a mask before I moved here. Perhaps you'll recognize it. Perhaps not. Regardless, I can assure you that you'll find it rather amusing."

 

[roxybirdie]

"Well, I suppose that it really depends on how far your knowledge stretches from New Orleans,"

He hummed noncommittally. Demetri neither confirmed nor denied the statement. Slim fingers plucked the soiled jacket from the bar top. The platinum blonde slipped it on, ignoring the semi-dampness clinging to the expensive fabric. He fastened a single button, leaving a tantalizing glimpse of his moonlight skin tastefully exposed. While the blazer, albeit moderately, reeked of well-aged bourbon, Demetri didn't appear in the least perturbed. He smoothed the pitch black silk, not a single hair out of place. "I can assure you, Yeux Charbonneux," the sapphire-eyed vampire began. He raised his arm and brushed the back of his knuckles against his soulmate's jawline, the touch light as a feather; a silent goodbye. A sharp smile adorned his face. "I'm well-traveled." Without another word, the blond-haired man retracted his palm, slid off his barstool, and sauntered toward the front door.

Regardless, I can assure you that you'll find it rather amusing. Demetri tilted his head back, flashing his soulmate a parting coquettish grin. "Oh, I can imagine." With a single jingle of the door bell, the crystalline-eyed vampire disappeared.

Once his Seigneur — the white-haired bartender witnessed the seductive sashay of the master vampire's hips; Demetri was absolutely shameless — vanished, Garrus approached Nate. "Would you like another round, hon?" he inquired. He snapped his fingers and banished the empty martini glass to the back room. "Or are you calling it a night?" The silvery-eyed fae flashed the obsidian-eyed mortal a saccharine grin. Despite the warmhearted veneer, it was all sharp teeth; a predator acknowledging another predator. "Congratulations, darling. Mon Seigneur is quite the catch," he chuckled.

 

[Eridian]

He watched his soulmate redress himself, silently mourning the loss of such delicious skin disappearing back under the expensive blazer, eyes flickering back up to his other half's sapphire gaze at his newest nickname, sharp gaze softening almost imperceptibly at the feather brush of knuckles against his jaw and understood the faint touch for what it was - a reluctant goodbye. His gaze followed him as he gracefully slid off the stool next to him, enjoying the view of him as he sauntered to the door and glad he did for the rewarding grin he was given in turn. He stared at the door for a few moments after the vampire had left before finally letting out a soft breath, barely a sigh, one that he'd been holding since he'd walked into the pub.

He swallowed as Garrus approached him again, flashing him a grin of his own as he tried to keep himself from appearing too smitten right off the bat. "I think I'm quite finished, I don't think liquor could compare to how addictive that's going to be," he admits shamelessly, enjoying the saccharine grin that they both knew was anything but and much more similar to acknowledgment. "I have no doubt that he is," he agrees, casting another glance at the door where the vampire had left through.

"But men like him aren't the type you can catch. A caged tiger will still turn and rip you apart if given the opportunity - it's their nature. The best you can hope for is mutual respect and admiration, hmm?" He was hardly only speaking of Demetri but he knew that the point would come across as intended - the white-haired man was sharp.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《​

Black tie wasn't difficult for him to find himself dressed for - he was used to schmoozing with the elite since he was a child and while tonight's party might not have many humans that weren't there for party favors, he highly doubted that it would change the cardinal rules of it despite the inhuman nature of the ball. So he dressed in a stylish, tailored suit that cost far too much to be anything but luxurious and debated heavily as he stood in his apartment, overtly familiar mask in his palms. Azazel had not shown a single sign of himself in the months he'd been in New Orleans; he wasn't stupid enough to go hunting while unaware of whose territory he was in and given the show he'd seen last night, it had been a wise choice on his part. It didn't mean he didn't feel that itch clawing at the back of his mind, making his crooked fingers twitch in longing to wrap themselves around the latest annoyance that blathered at him aimlessly. He'd considered more than a few times simply catching a red-eye back to Los Angeles just for the weekend to blow off some steam but work had consumed what free time he had that didn't involve him hunting nightlife in search of something other than humans.

Was this wise? Unlikely. He'd never before shown someone both the facade he put on to the public and the monster under the mask he used to separate fascets of the same person. But did he have to when it was his soulmate that he was showing it to? He considered it for ages before slipping the mask that had seen innumerable deaths on and found his way out to Persephone. He didn't take the warning given to him lightly - he was armed under the expensive clothes and made sure he had options for nearly anything he could encounter tonight - he wasn't about to end up a party favor for anyone, soulmate or otherwise.

He wasn't at all disappointed by the mansion he was brought to, enjoying the grounds as he found his way up to the party inside, not at all seeming to consider the other guests on his way up. It wouldn't do to gawk like he didn't belong here and if he was blunt, no one but Demetri strictly mattered to him tonight. While he most certainly would find plenty of connections tonight, they weren't his priority, his soulmate was. Which was why he kept an eye out while he mingled with guests casually, comfortable in any conversation thrown his way and politely introducing himself as his pseudonym instead of his given name.

 

[roxybirdie]

"The best you can hope for is mutual respect and admiration, hmm?"

All the sudden, melodious laughter reverberated throughout the empty establishment. Ding. The dark-haired mortal passed his last trial for the night. His Seigneur deserved nothing but the very best. Truthfully, had the dark-haired mortal fail, Garrus wouldn't hesitate to eliminate the blight tarnishing his prized bar. Fae, underneath their enchanting beauty and otherworldly charm, are bloodthirsty and vain creatures. Fortunately, the obsidian-eyed man exceeded his expectations. "Well said, prédateur mortel," the white-haired fae announced. Quicksilver eyes regarded his Seigneur's soulmate. Suddenly, a mischievous — a touch razor sharp — grin adorned his face. "Or should I say époux immortel? It has a nice ring to it, oui?" he declared.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★​

"A mortal," a feminine voice sniffed, as if it were something vile beneath her heel.

A smooth chuckle rumbled in his throat. "Play nice, sister dearest. He won't stay mortal for long," Demetri reminded. The light-haired vampire and his sister stood on top a grand stair case overlooking the ornate foyer leading to the grand ballroom. Crystalline eyes surveyed the bustling crowd. Unfortunately, not a hint of his soulmate's mouthwatering scent was evident in the chattering horde. Demetri wore an exquisite three-piece tuxedo, the dark burgundy fabric coordinating with his sister's deep wine masquerade ballgown. While his harlequin mask was black and white, his sister's Venetian veneer featured a splash of color.

"A mortal," she sneered. Daphne paused. "Better than a mongrel," she conceded.

"Careful, sister. Our animal to call are wolves."

"They're your animal to call, brother dearest. Mine are a more sophisticated breed," she pointed out.

Demetri laughed. "Ah, yes. Your beloved kittens," he teased.

She rolled her eyes. Her werejaguars, while small in number, are unquestionably loyal and exceptionally fierce. "I can't believe you met your soulmate in a bar." Her nose wrinkled at the unrefined thought.

He tutted at his sister's haughtiness. "Garrus's establishment is exquisite, sister dearest," Demetri countered. His gaze remained fixated on the crowded foyer. Despite her frosty disposition, Demetri knew — deep down — his sister was delighted he met his other-half. On the other hand, until his soulmate earned his sister's approval — and overall respect — she wouldn't acknowledge the dark-haired mortal beyond pleasantries. Daphne was extremely protective and he unsurprisingly shared the fierce sentiment. Once his sister — one day — met her other-half, the platinum blonde would move mountains to ensure his beloved sister gained the very best.

The Nevrakis twins wouldn't accept anything less.

All the sudden, a tantalizing scent invaded his nostrils. He cocked his head to the side, eyes razor sharp.

She noticed the sudden change in demeanor. "Go, mingle. I know you're dying to be the center of attention," Daphne announced. While she rarely strayed from her brother's side, the icy vampire preferred a silent approach to her brother's destined other-half.

A huff of amusement escaped his lips. "Don't get lost in the shadows, gatáki," he chuckled. Without another word, Demetri descended the grand stair case and sauntered toward the grand ballroom. Persephone was a vision of wealth and power; a foundation of glamor and prestige belying the haunting darkness lurking beneath. It was his greatest investment and the sapphire-eyed vampire spared no expense. Whispers reverberated throughout the ballroom, a combination of fear and awe charging the atmosphere. I can't believe he's here— Demetri weaved through the partygoers, focused on his soulmate's enticing scent. What's Azazel doing in New Orleans? He snatched two flutes of champagne from a passerby server and maneuvered toward the back of the ballroom, closer to the large French doors leading to the garden. Do you think Master— The blonde stopped in front a man donning a positively nightmarish mask. —granted permission to kill? Ignoring the incessant whispers, Demetri offered a flute to the west coast legend. "You look absolutely ravishing, Azazel," he purred, as if he were greeting an old friend.

He flourished his wrist, gesturing toward the grand ballroom. "Welcome to Persephone. It seems you're the talk of the night," Demetri chuckled. He raised his flute and swished the glass, but he didn't take a sip. "Not surprising, oui. A dangerous serial killer from the west coast attending the biggest social event of the year is a delightful twist," he mused.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

prédateur mortel — mortal predator
époux immortel — immortal consort
gatáki — kitten
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[Eridian]

He found himself wondering if he would be approached first by his soulmate or by someone else, but given the whispers that reached his ears questioning him being there, he felt confident that no one would dare. It was with no small satisfaction that he listened to hushed gossip as he kept himself comfortable and relaxed near the elegant French doors leading out to the meticulously managed gardens - he knew he was infamous and held weight back home, but hearing how far his name stretched stroked his ego. Given his history of not having strictly human targets, he hoped that it would discourage anyone from thinking they could step against him without consequence given his own mortality. But even if his track record didn't dissuade, he had alternate methods of reassuring the guests tonight that he was most certainly not on the menu.

His hands were rather purposefully bare, golden signet ring, and carved brand on display though he didn't care to make them obvious. He didn't need his soulmate to keep him safe in the lion's den - he was a monster in his own right despite the mortality still clinging to him and he refused to present himself as anything but exactly that. But it wasn't the only ring that had appeared on his fingers for the night - twin serpents decorated his left ring and forefinger in polished silver and iron that held more secrets than just the blatant weapons they could be to multiple persons at this party. But those were his own secrets to show if anyone dared to get handsy tonight - he hoped his soulmate would forgive him for making an example of anyone foolish enough to think he'd allow just anyone's hands to fall upon him.

Speaking of his other half, he registered someone approaching him - their purpose very clearly aimed towards him - and didn't hesitate at all to reach out with his left, unmarked hand to accept the flute, considering the harlequin mask he was faced with for the split second before he spoke. He recognized that sultry voice purring at him so openly and a slow smirk curled the corner of his lips as he didn't pull his obsidian gaze from the man even as he gestured with a flourish at the extravagance and decadence they were in the midst of.

"It seems so," he demures lowly, likewise not yet taking a sip from the flute in his hands as he didn't trust it's contents in the slightest. "I didn't expect to be quite as infamous on the other side of the country but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't extremely flattering to hear so many whispering gossips about my attendance." He tilted his head to the side, openly considering his soulmate for a moment before shifting the flute from his left to his right hand, subtly but purposefully putting both the signet ring and brand on display casually as he swirled the clear, bubbling liquid around thoughtfully.

"I recently discovered my soulmate and he was gracious enough to invite me," he elaborates with a cat-that-ate-the-canary smirk, coal eyes glittering behind the devilish mask in unbridled amusement and delight. "I thought it would be rather rude to go hunting here without permission so I've kept to myself as of late. I'm after something here in New Orleans and pissing off the locals is quite antithetical to achieving that. But you already know all this, Yeux Saphir."