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• 

  Legion July 22, 2024 at 9:22pm

  Legion considered that. Sometimes epilepsy occurred only in childhood. It was possible she could have grown out of it completely given the chance. However, he would have been surprised if she had been killed just for the seizures. Certainly there was much more at play here. If they had thought her possessed or just a danger, they could have locked her up, which was what most people did to their sick and troubled children and other family members.

  “Poor thing.” Legion mumbled, a quiet sympathy for the soul who could not rest and who certainly didn’t get what she deserved. Of course, Bonnie also deserved better than what she got. It seemed like every female of the Blackwood household was a victim of its master. Except, maybe, Margaret. And that was assuming Margaret had indeed made it scott free. It was possible they simply didn’t know where she had gone and heard not a word from her.

  Legion had opened his mouth as if to answer Emily’s question, but Legacy’s flustered response only made him close his mouth and smirk, giving a dismissive shrug. He seemed to have no issue telling the little ghost what she wanted to know. She was dead, anyway, and though she still had the mind of a child, Legion seemed to have at least enough tact to answer her questions without feeling embarrassed by them. But then, he was a demon, or something like it. Sex was a part of his life in a way it wasn’t to most other people, whether he wanted it to be or not. He felt little shame in regards to it. For the most part, anyway.

  But Legacy was changing the subject anyway, and Legion moved to rest his hand upon the spirit’s head gently, in a familial sort of gesture. Quiet for a moment, and just as thoughtful. “Frankly, I don’t think Alistair would have ever loved her again.” As cruel as it was to say, it was very likely the truth. “Once someone has decided they’ve been wronged in a relationship, that feeling never goes away. The relationship sours, even if it’s one sided. There’s nothing Bonnie could have done aside from… well, from his perspective anyway, provided him more children. Even that may not have been enough, if the heir wasn’t male.” Even living throughout all of human history, Legion could not bring himself to understand their obsession with males. Almost everyone he was fond of or saw as a powerful being was or took the form of a female.

  His eyebrow raised at Legacy as she further mentioned Duncan, giving a bit of a nod. Great grandfather, or grandfather. “Or father,” Legion added, “depending on how old Agatha really is.” He couldn’t help but smirk in a somewhat wicked way as Legacy said something about evil demons. He simply shrugged. “Who said I wasn’t evil?” Though all things considered it seemed as if Legion didn’t have an evil bone in his body. Then again, as a demon, or demon adjacent, that couldn’t possibly be true… right? Well, then, it was hard to say.

  He didn’t say anything to Legacy’s quiet discoveries though, and instead followed the two of them down the hall as Emily mentioned her barn and horses. Once again, spiderwebs, of which he was not particularly fond…

  “I could try to free her.” He mumbled to Legacy. He was sure it might have been more difficult, though, considering she died as a demon. He wasn’t sure if that would work, or how easy it would be for either of them to do so. Legacy being a cat, of course it was possible for her to contact a cat ghost. Probably with ease, too.

  When they reached the barn, despite how innocent it appeared to be, Legion could sense the horror that had taken place here. Even if he could not put his feeling on the tragedy or the exact occurrences, it was obvious something had happened there. Something sad and unfortunate, and of course something involving Emily.

  As Legacy collapsed, Legion was quick to move to catch her so she wouldn’t completely fall on the ground. And he watched Emily with the same caution after he realized she was also evidently affected. He tried to make sure Legacy was solidly standing before he moved to Emily’s side, but the girl seemed more important to take care of. The witch could take care of herself, he was sure.

  “Someone tried to drown her.” He repeated, frowning deeper. He seemed distracted. “Not her father. Her brother?” Just a guess. But he seemed like enough of a killer. “But she wouldn’t die.” He shrugged slightly, wrapping his arms around the little ghost girl, letting himself glance momentarily at Legacy. “Demons can, technically. Some of them. She’s half demon though. And not all of them can die by drowning. For some it takes a specific tool.” Another pause, before he added, softer, “So the dagger then, possibly… you wouldn’t die, so he stabbed you to death and left you here?” It seemed incredibly unfair, but not unlikely.
• 

  Legion July 22, 2024 at 4:44pm

  Legion did not respond to Emily’s comment about the graveyard, but he did give her a slow nod, letting her remain close to him. He seemed to be considering everything she was saying. Her father was dead but not buried here. It made sense. There was no telling how long ago this had happened, but certainly a century ago or more. And Alistair was just a man, even if he was a witch. While witches could live for a long time, they didn’t always. Not that he deserved to. It was comfort, but little comfort, that the bloodline continued, that the children who were not Emily lived on.

  Even as Legacy ran into him full force, he seemed rock solid when he had caught her. He gave an understanding nod again as she talked about the house holding memories. He had suspected as much. Abandoned places often did, and this house was rife with emotion, with wandering souls. Emily’s, of course, but also likely Bonnie’s, even if she didn’t make her presence known or show herself to people.

  Evidently, Legion seemed perfectly comfortable standing back in silence and allowing the girl and the witch to have their conversation. He had little to say in regards to being able to see spirits, or Emily’s solidity which was unusual for specters. But when he noticed Emily staying close by, he made sure to put his arm around her in a way that was comforting and brotherly. He seemed like he would have been a good father, or sibling. Well, he was technically a sibling, but that was neither here nor there.

  Emily’s story did make him frown, though, and he shoved a hand into his jacket pocket, the one that had not wrapped around her. “So you were sick.” Epileptic, by the sounds of it. “But because you got the physical traits of a demon, they thought there was something wrong with you.” It made sense. Even without the influence of a demon lover, it was not uncommon to believe that children were possessed by the devil or influenced by a demon when it came to health problems. Epilepsy, of course, was a big one, but also schizophrenia, and other mental disorders that caused people to act ‘different’.

  Legacy’s comment simply made Legion nod. She wasn’t wrong. Men seemed to always be the problem when it came to the past. What was more, they seemed to always blame women, and twisted their stories to suit their agenda and their world view. “Unfortunately.” Legion seemed to sigh in a forlorn sort of way. “Not that that’s changed much. Men will hold to their traditions because it means they are in charge and can get what they want.” And who didn’t want that?”

  The mention of sex also made Legion nod, but Emily’s question made him blink, and smirk, evidently amused by Legacy’s floundering. He considered the question and Legacy’s response, glancing between the two of them before looking down at the spirit, tilting his head a little.

  “Sex brings people pleasure, and sometimes power. It also makes children.” Easy enough. But he didn’t seem nearly as sensitive to the question as Legacy was, which was to be expected. Most people would have been put off by it from such a young girl. “Unfortunately, it can be abused in many ways, and it’s considered… bad, and hurtful, to have sex with one person when you are with another. That’s what your father did.” And that was why she existed. To some that may have seemed like a burden, but life was precious. It wasn’t all bad. According to Legacy, Bonnie loved the twins as if they were her own, and the affection was evidently mutual.

  His gaze slipped once again back to Legacy, shrugging. “Some demons were just created. Some can be born of other demons, or of relations between demon and other creature. And some people can be turned into demons, too. Like vampires, or zombies. It all depends on the power the demon has, and what kind of demon it is. Some were created with the intention of producing many offspring and flooding the world with versions of themselves. Others have only the goal to seduce, or to eat, or to strike fear and suffering into others.”

  But demons had minds of their own, of course, and had their own goals in life. The ones that primarily resided in Hell worked for devils, mostly, or waited to be summoned and fulfill requests in exchange for something, usually food or a life.

  “It makes sense, about Agatha. What doesn’t make sense is wanting a weapon to slay demons if she herself is one, unless she has some sort of vendetta against a specific one.” He blinked, glancing back at Emily once more with his hidden gaze. “You said when you died, you remember water and pain and hay. Do you have a barn or a farm on property, or nearby? A pond or river, maybe?” Though that could have been a bathtub. Water could be found anywhere. Sometimes ghosts could travel around if they were lucky, though he had a feeling that Emily was not one of them, and was forced to reside in or around the mansion.
• 

  Alexander July 21, 2024 at 7:51pm

    A fox-heart? For a moment, Alexander had to process the insult. It was an insult, right? She threw a fit, admitting she wasn't going with him. Alexander stopped almost instantaneously, but it wasn't her reply that pulled his attention. His body turned partly to look back at the bar, or more so past it.

    Voices, far off in the distance, met his ears. Could she hear them as well? There were several different people talking, and they were probably not human. Their conversations were jumbled, but every so often a keyword stuck out: "Amulet. Treasure. Strange Lady. Bar." Alexander's eyes shifted back and forth as he listened from afar. If they were inhuman as he suspected, Alexander couldn't fend them all off. Maybe he could, but it wasn't on his agenda for the night.

    It was at that point that he heard her speak again, breaking his concentration on the distant voices that no human could detect from their location. It seemed like she had finally realized that he might be right. "We are going anywhere but here.."

    With that, Alexander turned back around, his pace quickening to a brisk walk. He assumed she'd catch up.
• 

  Legion July 20, 2024 at 11:26pm

  There was no rush. Legion seemed like a patient person. Only when the girl took his hand did he turn to make his way back down the darkened hallway, toward the room that now glowed with the soft flame and heat of the lit fireplace. It produced a strange amount of heat, but it wasn’t so hot that it was stifling. Emily likely hadn’t felt that kind of heat in a very long time.

  Like the fire, Legion’s hand was warm too. Well, his skin, in general. Like a heater from within keeping him warm even in the coldest spaces. It might have been alarming or comforting, depending on the person who touched him.

  “I see.” He said to her statement about the other visitor. He frowned to himself in thought. “The same place where you buried your cat? When did he come here?” What could have been so important as to grave rob? Actually, even thinking about it, that didn’t sound too out of the ordinary. Graverobbing was quite common not even a couple centuries ago. Depending on when Emily had died and when the visitor had come, that could have put him right in the middle of the craze. Of course, it was most common to rob graves for their bodies or for expensive items to be sold for high prices. That didn’t explain someone coming to the grave with the intention of taking a specific item.

  “Your father, is he still alive? Do you know?” He didn’t necessarily think Alistair himself could have done it. In fact, that was almost out of the question. Surely Emily would have recognized her own father. But it could have been someone working for him, stealing evidence. Or maybe something else. Actually, Legion decided without ever speaking aloud, likely something else. A powerful item, or a dangerous one. That made the most sense.

  As he turned to go up the stairs, Legion could feel the weighty presence of the spirit hidden in one of the rooms pressing down upon the house. That was the problem with houses. They were living, breathing things, sometimes even sentient, whether people believed that or not. They held memories, joy and horror and sorrow, absorbed those feelings like sponges. It explained why some houses had oppressing or eerie auras, and some felt light and welcoming. Legion understood that more than anyone, considering how he fled places he had lived too long in.

  Though he was taking Emily with him up the stairs, he was careful to leave her outside of the room he felt the blackness in. He waited a moment, sure he had found the witch once more. But it only took that hesitating moment for the suppressing nature to vanish, as quickly and suddenly as it had come, leaving Legacy gasping for air. He felt no ill will from the house, more of a desperation for its history to be known, although he could have been wrong about that.

  And as Legacy fled the room, she would run right into the demon, who put his arms around her to keep from dashing into something else. For a second he stood there like that, before he let go and held her at arm’s length, concern tracing over his face, even seen despite the glasses.

  “Are you alright?” He asked with his usual calm tone, though it didn’t drip with apathy like it usually did. He even sounded concerned. “I suppose the house doesn’t want us snooping. But the house–” He said, and glared at one of the hallway walls, as if he were talking directly to it, “– is just going to have to deal with that for the moment.” And then he took some steps back, letting Emily be revealed. “Anyway. We have a guest. Or rather, I suppose we are guests in her home. Emily, this is Legacy, the cat you sensed. Legacy, Emily. Oh, and I found this…” With that statement, he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, or rather into the strange void it seemed to lead to, to produce the found diary, and handed it off to Legacy.
• 

  Legion July 20, 2024 at 12:48pm

  Legion didn’t say anything at first. He sensed no ill will from the form, only a child wronged and a life taken before its time. Still, Legion always operated under at least a hint of caution. Although he was not particularly affected or afraid of creatures like this, others would be. Anway, he always thought it was better not to get others involved if he didn’t have to.

  His head tilted slightly as he listened to the girl talk and ramble. When she noticed him noticing her, Legion smiled in that subdued, polite way he always seemed to. Once again he let his hands clasp behind his back, a completely non-threatening pose. He was going to say something like ‘Of course I can see you,’ but that seemed a little too mean and dismissive, so instead he gave only a nod. It was easy to listen to other people talk, and talk she did. Not that he minded. It reminded him of Legacy in a way, full of energy and excitement and putting puzzle pieces together.

  Anyway, he knew a thing or two about loneliness, and he had no doubt that Emily was lonely. All the time spent with no one to pay her attention, no one to talk to, everyone looking right through her.

  “Emily.” Legion repeated curiously, tilting his head again. “I see. You may call me Legion,” he added, because it would have been impolite not to. At the mention of his eyes, he only smiled softly. Perhaps they were similar, woven from the same kind of thing, but they were very different in their own ways. Legion was only a demon in name. He might have resembled one – it was why he used the title – but he was far more than that, and barely seemed like one at all.

  “I suppose.”  He said, vaguely, and reached up to tap at the black glasses he wore. “We may be similar. I don’t have a father, though. My mother would never make me hide such things. Though, she is blind, and has been since I’ve known her, so I doubt she would ever even know what they look like.”

  He took her words to heart of course, though, and tucked the thoughts away for later. It didn’t surprise him. Alistair didn’t seem like the world’s greatest father. “I hide them because it makes it easier for mortals to look upon me. They can be fragile. No sense in giving them a start if I don’t have to.” Mostly he wore them because, although the glasses drew stares, especially when worn in unnecessary places like the dark or inside a building, the stares were nothing compared to the whispers, gasps of shock, and scurrying away he was often met with when he didn’t wear them. It was more irritating for him than anything, but he felt no need for the grief if he didn’t have to endure it.

  “There were some interesting things. It was mostly about your father, though, not your mother.” Secrets were told, that was true, but not regarding her location. “I am here to help a witch. Or, a cat, as you call her.” With that, he allowed his hands to once again rest at his side, and held one out to the spirit.

  “Come. We shall find her now. Maybe we can locate your body.” Finding out how Emily died felt… pertinent. It was sad to be an unresting soul. Legion had encountered many, and while some could be dangerous and vengeful, for the most part they were lonely and sad.

  If the girl took the chance to take his hand, she would find himself turning… solid. Well, more solid. She had the glow to her still, the soft ghostly one, and the far away, ghostly voice, but her form would be solid. She would be able to touch things. And, more importantly, Legacy would be able to see her. Others could, too, if they were here. It was probably a good thing they weren’t.
• 

  Legion July 20, 2024 at 3:33am

  There was a little chuckle from the man when she instinctively pulled the book away. He couldn’t say he was surprised, or even that he minded her reaction too much. Maybe demons being burned was just a myth after all. Maybe he was just something more. He had only given the witch a nod as he disappeared down the corridor. Not dismissive, exactly. But he felt he had nothing to fear.

  Legion’s gaze trailed the walls with quiet interest, fingers brushing over the abandoned paintings, carrying dust away with them and leaving behind streaks of clean. He sighed. What a shame to let art rot among the stones and vines and cobwebs, the hard work of some likely underpaid artist becoming one with the mansion, becoming nothing. It didn’t seem fair. But then, he supposed, what was?

  He had paused just before the painting that fell on its own. Well, not on its own, not exactly. Legion hummed. Of course he had felt the shadow descend upon him, but he didn’t seem like the jumpy type. Not about this, anyway. Instead, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he stopped before the little hole.

  “What have you brought me to, shadowy creature?” He spoke in a tone that was low and deep, not quite different from his typical speaking voice, and yet not exactly the same either. And he spoke with familiarity, too, seeming both unsurprised and unbothered as he reached into the hole, fingers gracing the soft leather worn with age. He brought it to himself, careful as he had been with the Bible to not render the book to dust as it was want to do.

  As his gaze trailed the pages, quick but careful, there only came a frown to play on the demon’s lips. He saw it coming a mile away as the story unfolded before him, although he had to admit he wished for it not to be. If he had learned one thing from his time spent with humanity, with mortal creatures, it was that their kindness and selflessness was practically unmatched, falling second only to their hubris and selfish behavior. That was the dichotomy, though, wasn’t it? Things were not cut and dry; things were not simple. They never were. Why would this be any exception?

  “A victim, then.” He sighed, sounding nearly sad as he shook his head. He almost added an exasperated sigh of ‘Men,’ to that, before realizing how that sounded coming from him. Of course his heart broke for Bonnie, moreso than Alistair. He also knew that a diary could only ever tell one side of a story. He decided to shelf most of those thoughts away for the time being.

  Instead, Legion’s gaze trailed around the quiet darkness, and instead of putting the book back where he found it, he tucked it away into what seemed to be an inner pocket of his jacket. And then it was gone, as if it had never been there at all. Disappeared into a different place, a safer place. For the time being.

  With his hands clasped behind his back now, Legion turned to survey the area once more, a small circle as if he was examining every corner of the hall. It was as if his eyes saw things no one else could. That would not have been a surprise, for even behind those darkened glasses he seemed to get around just fine, and even without a light he walked the halls as if they were well lit.

  And then his hands moved, unclasped from behind him, and clapped, once, in front of him. There was a whisper of words, soft, ancient, unheard by most things, incomprehensible by all. That voice was not one like the one he used to speak at all. It was a spell, perhaps. Well, not exactly. Just a language no one knew. They were revealing words, and sealing words, keeping in place whatever shadow was there in case it thought best to wander, forcing it to take a more recognizable form. He wouldn’t force it to speak, though he could do that too. Instead, he thought it best to give the spirit – demon, ghost, lost soul or otherwise – a chance to reveal itself on its own.

  “So, to whom do I owe the pleasure?” He spoke to the darkness, to the form, in the more casual voice he used to speak to all others. Best not to make assumptions. Ghosts and demons alike hated that.
• 

  Legion July 19, 2024 at 1:48am

  The mention of snakes nearly made the demon scoff. He resisted the urge, though, and instead gave Legacy a dismissive shrug. He was not afraid of snakes, venomous or constricting or otherwise. In fact, he quite liked them, found them to be charming and fascinating creatures. That must have been the demon in him, though. He knew many people who were not fans of the reptiles. He didn’t think of them as all that scary, but maybe that had to do with not being able to be killed by one.

  What he did not like, however, was bugs. Or arachnids, for that matter. That wasn’t very demonlike of him, and honestly it wasn’t very catlike of him either. Didn’t cats quite enjoy playing with small scuttling creatures? Perhaps. He had other catlike qualities, but that certainly wasn’t one of them. That was why the witch would find him avoiding the sticky, fluffy cobwebs at all costs, and frankly the other bugs around, roaches and the like. They gave him that fluttering feeling in his chest that many people associated with their fear of snakes or other animals.

  He didn’t make a mention of it, though, instead following in silence after the witch, clasping his hands behind his back in a chalant, but casual sort of way. Despite the blackened glasses he wore he seemed to be able to move around with quite a bit of ease, and he tilted his head slightly in thought as the pair wandered through the desolate mansion. It was almost sad, a perfectly good home gone to ruins either because of the people who lived there before or because of its history.

  “It looks like it needs to be condemned.” Legion mumbled in a tone that was a bit cold, tracing lines with his eyes around the foyer, first, and then the different pathways the two of them could walk down. It was hard to say if he could see through the empty, pitch black darkness, but what was easy to see was how Legion’s body seemed to morph into the darkness when they entered it, as if it disappeared there and became part of it. When the little spell casted a light, however, he seemed to be right there, no body parts missing. Odd. He was odd.

  Instead of taking the Bible, the way Legacy had, Legion instead walked past it toward the fireplace, reaching his hand into the cold ashes and brushing his fingers against the half burned wood. With barely a spark came fire, one that seemed not to burn him as he left his hand in it a moment. Ordinarily, he would produce something black, but this was orange and red and yellow, sparking and flickering like any normal firewood. He stood from his kneeling position and took the book Legacy offered him with a hum of thought.

  Legion could not be said to be any normal demon. He didn’t even seem to be burned by the touch of something holy. Demons and vampires – weak ones, especially – tended to suffer that fate, the same with holy water or stepping on holy ground. But he didn’t flinch at all, instead slowly, carefully and without the rough touch that would destroy such a delicate book, leafing through the pages.

  “Receipts from a vampire.” Legion said softly, and with that, he smirked slightly. “How interesting. Maybe they didn’t want to be associated with a witch… not that a vampire is much better in the eyes of humans.” He was just as perplexed as Legacy, but he added, offhandedly, “Mind altercation and a glamour. For someone who lived here, no? A prisoner, or a victim, perhaps. A servant who had some truths to spill. Or a particularly defiant child.” Mind altercation might have been useful for that, but a glamour was a little more difficult to figure out. “Or maybe someone who committed a heinous crime and didn’t want to be caught…”

  When Legacy mentioned going upstairs, Legion waved her away, and, taking the book with him, decided to find his way down one of the darkened hallways. He didn’t make a sound when he walked, and seemed to be able to see well enough in the dark to avoid kicking any lose pieces of wood or other matter that littered the old flooring.
• 

  Alexander July 17, 2024 at 7:52pm

  She rambled, and though her words meandered, Alexander could easily pick up on the unofficial allusions to her own life that snaked through her speech. Despite the similarities, he remained impassive, his features as still as stone. He had grown hardened to the past, to the wounds that couldn't be healed.

  His recent encounter with a certain retired huntress had left him puzzled, unsure of his next move. Yes, for once, Alexander was at a loss. His fingers tapped impatiently on the countertop, eyes fixed on the condensation forming on his glass, waiting for her to finish talking. She seemed to realize the length of her explanation and, with a slight hesitation, redirected her focus and continued.

  Had he passed her test? She was mistaken on several points. It wasn't curiosity that kept him there. In fact, it was his deeply ingrained sense of honor, something he had tried so hard to suppress. He wasn't a terrible person, but his hunter's instincts often surfaced, driven by the ingrained mentality from his past. This sense of duty had only deepened during his time with his first coven of vampires. Now, here he was, faced with a strange woman in a bar, dressed oddly and asking for help. His body language screamed reluctance, but Alexander couldn't simply walk away. He would at least ensure she got home safely.

  When she spoke of his compulsion, his fingers instantly ceased their tapping on the bartop. His dark eyes snapped to hers, his expression sharp. What he had been doing was testing the surroundings, the barkeep, if anything. He hadn't used compulsion on anyone. Rising from his seat, he glanced to the employee side of the counter, noticing the absence of the bartender. She had freely divulged information not only to him but to anyone who might have been listening. "You're an idiot," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

  With the speed of a vampire, his hand closed around her wrist. He pulled her up sharply, not caring if she stumbled. If she resisted, he would let her go, but only after making his point. Without another word, he moved towards the bar's wooden doors and disappeared outside.

  --

  Regardless of how quickly she followed, be it immediately or after several minutes, Alexander was there. The darkness between the bar and its neighboring building cloaked most of his presence. He stood with his arms crossed, back against the building's siding, the occasional glint of crimson reflecting from his eyes as cars passed by.

  "You're an idiot," he reiterated, his words clear and cutting. "I haven't used compulsion magic on anyone." His brows furrowed as he continued, "You're naive. You freely gave information not only to a stranger but to the bartender and whoever he's working with."

  "I signaled a normal gesture to reorder a drink. The second finger meant I wanted to order you one too. A typical bartender would have simply duplicated my drink for you, but this one knew your preferences, thanks to your earlier eagerness to share."

  Alexander stepped out of the shadows of the alleyway, his attention shifting to the right, then the left. "We're in the United States, specifically Louisiana," he said, pausing as a patron leaving the bar caught his eye. Only after the pedestrian was out of sight did Alexander continue. "This state is known for inhuman creatures; it's both a supernatural safe haven and a war zone. Factions here fight for control, and you've just given them a reason to hunt you."

  "We don't have time," he said, turning and starting down the dirt path with a brisk pace. Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes caught the moonlight, their red tint glowing. He let out a 'tsk' of annoyance, mixed with a sigh of reluctance. "..come on.."
• 

  Alexander July 17, 2024 at 3:15pm

  Alexander noticed the change in her demeanor, shifting from brave and bold to something more subdued. The slight tremble in her hand caught his eye before her retort to his answer. She soon regained her composure, giving him a name to work with, which he did not reply to, but only listened as she continued speaking. His dark gaze swept over her more than once, absorbing each fine detail he could.

  "I know your nature."

  "And I need your help."

  These were sentences he had heard many times before, typically laden with the same implications. She knew he was a vampire. Great. So did he. So did others; Hell, half of this bar was probably filled with supernatural creatures. While most, including Alexander, still hid what they could due to the presence of hunters, this city seemed to lack them.

  "No, I'm not going to bite you," he said matter-of-factly to her request for help. How many times had he been approached by humans craving the penetration of his pearly fangs? It wasn’t just humans. Vampires had an alluring venom, one of the best and most relaxing highs a supernatural could get. It was a high he couldn’t experience anymore for obvious reasons, but he still remembered the first and only bite he received before he became what he was today.

  As she continued speaking, he realized his misinterpretation but made no attempt to correct himself. Instead, he shifted his head to the right, catching the bartender's attention. His hand, resting on the bartop, pointed to his empty glass before he raised a second finger, indicating he wanted a drink for the woman beside him as well.

  As the bartender left to fulfill the silent order, Alexander continued listening to her, letting her say everything she needed to. His dark eyes redirected themselves to her jugular as her heart rate increased with nervous tension. Why was she nervous? Alexander was an asshole, but he didn’t think he came off as that frightening. Perhaps it was something to do with her story, something she knew that he didn’t.

  He had a few ideas about her sources. While he was no longer part of the Hunter's Society for obvious reasons, he had connections with the more feral side of the society, friends, if you could call them that. Creatures like him. Souls that once were human but still wished to do good. Alexander cared less about doing good now. He wasn’t actually part of that group anymore, but he still had a few allies in their inner circle. Perhaps they had sent her here. However, Alexander had changed since his last encounter with the do-gooders. While he wasn’t evil, his interests no longer aligned with helping others, especially some strangely dressed female whose scent reeked of an animal.

  Their drinks returned, his the same as before. Hers was something pink and girly by the looks of it, complete with a tiny umbrella and a strawberry. Alexander’s eyebrow rose, conveying a silent message. He had ordered for her without saying a word. The only way the bartender had been able to place such an accurate order for her drink was if he’d been listening in on their conversation. This was Alexander’s way—calculating and extremely smart even before his descent into vampirism. He was always several steps ahead. But would she pick up on what he was putting down?

  "Save the details," he spoke sharply, placing two pale fingers on the slip of paper she had been guarding. He pushed it back in her direction before reaching for his drink and taking a large swig. "Why would you think a stranger would help you? What could I possibly benefit from this?" The vampire asked, a chuckle of amusement escaping soon after.
• 

  Nascha Kaltain July 12, 2024 at 3:43pm

  

  She lifted an eyebrow in response to the snort, threads of lupine gold weaving into the blue of her eyes. A testament to how close the wolf in her had drawn to the surface. Or maybe a warning. Whilst the half spoken sentence hadn't been anything damning the fact of the matter was, Nascha loathed mentioning her family. Loathed the memories it triggered. For they were not the happy ones, those she actually wouldn't have minded reliving in her mind. But trauma was often glaringly louder than contentment. She shook her head and forced her attention back onto Legacy, her head tilting as the unquenchable curiosity that oftentimes got her into trouble was piqued by her statement. 

  Another witch with no family? How...intriguing. Were they taken from her the way Nascha's own had been? Or was something else at play here? She wasn't sure but she was going to find out. Though she'd said nothing in response. Gave no indication she'd heard the words her fellow witch had offered. Her attention didn't waver. Holding her silence for now. If there was one thing she'd learned, it was that sometimes things revealed themselves if only you listened. 

  Legacy's transformation from feline to woman hardly seemed to jolt her. She'd already expected there was more to the cat than met the eye, had already gathered she'd have to have a humanoid shape. No what lifted Nascha's eyebrow was the ease with which the change had occurred. It was nothing like her own experience with shifting. "Huh...almost painless. Bet that's handy." She murmured mostly to herself. Not that shifting was inherently painful to her...it had been, the first time she'd ever done it. She could still recall the agony of it. Over time she'd grown used to it though and now no longer felt it. 

  Focus Nascha. She chided herself, realising Legacy had begun to talk whilst she was marvelling over the differences in the ways they shifted. Refocusing her attention upon the womans words to take in her story. Her lips peeling back in a vicious snarl that would probably have been terrifying were she in her wolven shape. "I'm sorry what?" The harshness of her tone was at odds with any she'd used yet. But the woman's words galled her. Witches keeping each other as servants?! That shit actually happened? She drew in a deep breath and mentally counted to five, reigning in her desire for violence. "That's quite an ordeal you went through.." she could empathise, if not for the situation then the resulting isolation. After the tragedy she'd never felt more lost or alone, until her former Alpha had found her. But she pushed that thought ruthlessly away. There was no use dwelling in the past. 

  As the other witch rose to her full height, Nascha snorted. Pushing away from the tree and straightening to her own somewhat less impressive 5'2 stature. She was used to people towering over her, though moreso men than women. 

  Shoving her hands back into the pockets of her jacket she sauntered after Legacy, aware that the other female wished she would just go away and taking a small amount of secret delight in denying her. It was the small things that made everything worth it after all. No surprise touched her expression as she was led back towards the shop. She'd have been more surprised if their destination had been some place else. 

  Trailing her gaze over the interior she took it all in, it looked like a standard witch shop to her. Though she did quirk an eyebrow at the many locks upon the door. "Expecting trouble are we?" She flitted a look towards Legacy and chuffs at the witch's own question. "Oh I'm thrilled. But I never expected anything diabolical in here. On the contrary from the way the humans went on I expected to discover you communing with the dead." Was that statement merely sarcasm or had the wolven witch finally given her quarry a hint as to why she was there?