Wake the Shadow [Dragomir]

[Yvette Marie]

Yvette swayed and danced to her own beat as they walked, unlatching herself from Nikolae's arm, only to be swung around to the opposite side on Enzo's arm, her hand tucked against his. She smiled at his humming, moving to that sound for a moment instead of the rumble of the rave. This did not last long, as they arrived and she was spun into the crowd along with Merry, Azareth's words in still ringing in her ears about having fun. She looked around at the writhing bodies around her and took a deep breath in, trying to avoid the shouting of the weak, drug-influenced humans around her. Not for me. Just ignore their chatter and it will go away, she thought, looking awkwardly at them. She believed she stuck out terribly, not noticing the few cybergoth giving her an appreciative glance, her pale skin and hair envied and desired among the group. Mackinsey hovered near her, trying to shoo people away, particularly when one young male approached. She looked back at Enzo and Azraeth again, her eyes curious, yet amused at the chains in their hands, then thought no more of it as the youth turned her head towards his again.

He was tall, closer to Enzo's height than her own, forcing her to look up to see his face. Like many of the humans in the building, he was lean and willowy. His ribs showed where his Keep calm until the Breakdown shirt was ripped down the middle. His raven hair fell over honey-colored eyes, and white teeth shone against copper, sun-kissed skin. His head moved and he rubbed her cheek with his hand, repeatedly. Yvette could smell the drugs within his blood and she moved away from him, hoping he wouldn't follow.

The faint scent of blood seemed to follow her as she made her way towards the back. Her teeth ached fiercely, and she looked again for someone familiar to keep close to, her skin still crawling from the human's touch. Se noticed Cordelia dancing with a Lavender-haired human, and was almost hypnotic in her movements. Azraeth had padlocked the door, and seemed to be doing as she was- looking for their “Dragonkin.” Merry seemed to be moving towards Enzo and Nikolae, who seemed to be throwing themselves into the music as well, their lovely figures too graceful next to the clumsy rutting creatures beside them. She wasn't sure how they could do it, dance so beautifully against the angry beat. The cacophonous sounded harsh to Yvette's ears as it echoed, so different now that they were within the building. Mackinsey had left her side, satisfied with her dismissal of the male, and was gleefully zipping from one side of the building to the other, living vicariously through the gyrating masses.

After a moment's pause, she decided to head toward Enzo and Nikolae, and watch how more closely how they interacted with the humans. She moved through some of the crowd, swaying back and forth as the gyrating bodies pushed her this way and that. She had nearly gotten to them when the 'Breakdown' boy grabbed her arm, pulling her towards a wall. A flash of annoyance ran across her face, and the ache within her jaws intensified. The boy didn't seem to notice, his hands preoccupied with her hair, and the gleam of her cold pale skin.

She trembled from distaste, rather than any attraction, though the male didn't see it that way. Encouraged by her shiver instead, the molly- dosed raver instead pulled her further away from the lights. His head bent down and she drew in a deep breath, turning her head. Her hands slid along his ribs and she felt a moment of regret for what she was about to do. It disappeared, however, when he trailed his lips against her throat.

Yvette, enraged, shoved her arm as far as she could into his chest, going in an upward motion. She tore through the diaphram, causing the scream the boy had shrieked to sputter out. Shoving further, she looked at his face as he began to slide down, his eyes becoming panicked, then unfocused. Her fingers slid around the fluttering chambers of his heart, and digging in, she yanked down and out. Her breath released in a rapturous shudder as she pulled his still beating heart from his chest, watching the light fade completely from his eyes as blood dribbled past his paling lips. The blood washed across her in a thick spray across her dress, as well as soaking her hair and face. Smiling contentedly, she watched him drop to the floor, before she bent down, kneeling on his thighs. Using the hand she wasn't holding the heart in, the blond dug into his eye sockets and jerked his eyes from his skull. Satisfied, she kissed each eyeball, then put them in her pocket to keep the finger "present" company. The heart, however, was for her sire, a symbolism she hoped he would appreciate.

Placing it halfway in her other pocket, she held it there with a hand, then the other, as she used the dead male's torn shirt to wipe the blood from her arms and fingers, then her face as best she could. Her dress would just be ruined. Hopefully people will think it paint in their drug induced madness, the waif thought, before shrugging to herself. If not, oh well. isn't as if we're letting any of them go anyway, judging from the chains.

Giggling to herself, she began to move towards her family once more, watching the lights pulse and illuminate the dress and blood beautifully. She spun around in a circle, delightedly, the only words spilling from her lips seeming madness to the humans nearby that could hear her over the noise.
“Perhaps the dulcet screams that follow will be swallowed like a dessert before a meal.”

[Azraeth]

His angular features were being gripped, and then he felt lips against his own. Someone else might have mistaken it for a romantic affection, but Az knew it for what it was. Enzo, his brother, seemed to be as straight as an arrow, and he was just saying hello to someone whose blood was like his own. Whose heart was the same dark pit. He bit into his 'younger' sibling's lower lip with just enough force that if his fangs had been out, they would have shredded the skin. And then Enzo was pulling away, leaving Az to his own devices. And the truth of the matter was that Enzo had easily worked his way close to Azraeth. A little common respect, and a brotherly bond could go a long way, after all. The Mystic was open to that same level of affection with any of the Dragomir. With anyone who wanted to be part of his life. More often than not, people held silly little things against him. Ceased talking to him. Broke contact. Little known fact. One of the reasons Az and Nikolae were so close was that they were always there. In the background. Part of each other's lives. They didn't need to see one another every day. They didn't need to profess their love. They simply were there. Irrevocable. Unchanging. If Az called out to Nikolae, he would call. And that was what vampiric bonds should have been made out of.

He felt something similar developing with Enzo, that same fraternity born out of dependability. Time would tell whether or not Az's instincts on the subject were true. Whether or not Enzo would pass through the veil into the world of those who were Azraeth's idols. Nikolae. Mr. Scratch. Though the latter had been gone for years, it would only take his return to reveal the depth of devotion there. Prudence, though they rarely talked these days. Azariel. His brother by birth. Once, Az had wished Perry to be in that exclusive little circle as well, but the man had all but disappeared. And so the Mystic had that tiny group of people he would do anything for, and family above all else. Maybe one day that inner circle would be larger. Many of the newly turned Dragomir showed promise. It's good to see the blood flowing again.

When he was done locking down the building and ensuring that all avenues of escape were essentially blocked off, only then did he let himself get into the moment. He walked with the sedate nature of a wolf amongst sheep. He knew the food would be there no matter how long he played with it, and so he felt no urgency to rush into a kill. Instead, he pulled off his orange sweater with its deep v-neck so he could fold it over, dropping a denim button down on top of it, along with the long sleeved shirt he wore underneath that. Layers were a good way of hiding the fact that he had a low core body temperature. His shoes came off next, and then his jeans. He stood there in his socks and his YOU SHALL NOT PASS boxer briefs with their cartoon image of Gandalf over the groin and the words scrawled across the back. Gray and white. He padded his way towards one of the walls where there was a big round table covered with paints in neon colors. The bowls were all of different styles, and in various stages of cleanliness, so probably thrown together at the last minute so people could load up on color if they wanted. The fluid all glowed in the dark and he reached for a broad brush so he could begin to drag the fibers over his skin, his arms and torso soon glowing with shades of pink and green, blue and yellow. He hummed the entire time, not quite with the music. His legs were painted next. Stripes all over. He looked like the Cheshire cat had dropped some acid.

And that was when he decided to get into the fun. He could hear the dry wheeze of a death rattle even above the music. Someone was dying, and the realization sent a thrill right up his spine in the form of a barely contained tremble. There were so many people there, and the music just seemed to get louder and louder, until it felt basically all-consuming. He would get back with the family soon. It was a bonding activity after all. They were supposed to get close to each other. Touch. Dance. Make the entire place scream with so much force that it shook the walls and drowned out the music. But first there were some warm bodies he wanted to get closer to. The action was spread all throughout. People on stairs. People on concrete. People stomping and the heavy base of the music adding an electric heartbeat to the party. He threw himself at a group of three young women who seemed to have all dyed their hair for the special occasion. Blue. Green. Yellow. Vibrant, but not quite glowing in the way Az did. But it was enough for him to call it fate. His arms slid around one of them for a moment, dragging her closer. He felt warmth and softness crush against him, and he watched the doubletake as she realized he was mostly naked.

Then they were dancing. Because that hesitation turned into motivation, and the outlandishness of the whole thing was just part of the fun. Who cared if Az looked crazy? Everyone there was gripped by their own unique brand of madness. They were all writing bodies and ecstasy waiting to happen. So there he was, his arms and legs moving with all of the grace of a turtle on its back. But nobody cared. They were at a rave. He could get away with flailing around like a mad person. And there were three bodies tucked close. He could feel their mingling body heat. He thought about them. About how they must have been friends. About how, only a few hours ago, they were probably planning to get drunk and dance, and get laid. Maybe one or more of them thought he would be their ticket to that last goal. They were completely unaware as he brought the one right in front of him, the one with yellow hair, drew her close and kissed her. He yanked her head to one side and buried his fangs in her throat. He drank, but for the most part, the fluid spurted over his chest, painting him even more. The thick red juice poured over his skin, stained his underwear and his socks. Red. Everything was becoming red. And the dying girl's friends continued to dance on either side of him, unaware that the trio had become a duo. Unaware that the wolf was hungry and tearing his way through the sheep.

N O T E S

<3 Requiem Player.

Nikolae will also be posting soon. I just had a lot of inspiration! So give her a day or so to get a post sorted if you're waiting on her reply. <3

[Nikolae]

The trip to the club was blessedly quick, even with the group walking together. What must they look like, he wondered, as they passed by humans on their way? A group of college grads, maybe. Some coworkers with eerie beauty and a menacing nature about them. He smirked to himself. As they entered the dark club with its pounding pulse of music, he immediately removed his glasses to let his freak flag fly – the eyes of the Dragon on full display tonight. He took off his jacket, too, because he hated to get the thing ruined with the atrocities no doubt about to be committed. His two boys were off locking the place down, and he nodded after them. Beautiful Yvette, a pale ghost herself joined by the spirit that always followed her, was rocking to a tune perhaps more in her head than the one playing. He smiled fondly after her. And then Merry approached, and he tilted his head back with a laugh, before bowing gracefully. The new Dragon friend Doc would be so proud of his manners.

“It would be my pleasure, Madame Merry.” He drawled. Enzo and Raeth weren’t near enough to hear the nickname, but if they were he would have winked.

He swept the girl into his arms, and settled into an easy dance. There would be no pelvic thrusts, though if the song came on he wouldn’t be held accountable for his actions. The girl was one of Perry’s triplets, after all. He spun her out on impulse and then back into his arms with a chuckle. The sound of a wheezed last breath caught his ear and he tilted his head curiously to pinpoint it. Yvette was saying something. Mm. If the smell of blood was any indication, she had made her point quite well. He smirked with pride.

“Shall we find someone to toy with, Merry Mae?” He murmured, dragon eyes dancing around the room like a starved man in a buffet aisle. So many choices, how would he pick just one? Perhaps better to let her decide, in that case. “I haven’t had this sort of fun in at least two nights.” He added with a quiet snicker.

[Merry (DELETED 7994)]

It was with an inexplicable sense of relief that Merry stepped into Nikolae's open arms, grateful as he drew close to dance. There should be fear when it came to the man, she knew that others felt it in his presence at times, a dark and dangerous edge to those teeth that flashed in a smile. A predator. Yet for her he had become an idea of comfort, she had little left to rely on and the Dragon's had welcomed her back into their den without question. Her hips swayed easily in time with the music, letting Nikolae lead the level of movement. As she was spun out into the room she let loose a bright laugh, feeling briefly optimistic, eyes falling on the scene around her. Bodies lost in dance, the vampires slinking amongst them, silently and deadly reaching out to claim prey. They were a herd, pathetic and stupid, ready to be culled.

The dark thought shocked her, it made her almost lost her natural grace, to stumble half a step as Nikolae tugged her back into him. "Mmm? For us?" She queried, the sound of death was oppressive, it was stifling and she couldn't escape it. She wanted it, too, wanted to taste it, to feel a heart stop. Never had she embraced the curse, never had she desired so to inflict it upon someone but tonight she would. "Da, dear Niko, we take them. They are gifts for us." Her face nuzzled into his throat, a whispered kiss against it, an offering to the leader of the Dragons. "Won't you guide me? It has been so long, and I want..." Her breath shuddered, her eyes turning on the humans once more, spotting the bright colours of Raeth's paint beneath the flash of lights, making him a beacon. "I want to make them go to the darkness like I had to. Help me?" Her hand slipped down to take his, fingertips intertwining, drawing his hand up to her lips.

A moment passed before she started moving, pulling him with her towards where Azraeth danced and dined, to where a throng of humans rocked to the beat. A male with dark eyes and a chiselled jaw caught her attention, he seemed to be without companion but not without chance. Perhaps it was because he reminded her in ways of Perry, his pale frame only clothed from the waist down, tall and slender in a way that might have been gangly were he not clearly a fan of working the muscles that rippled beneath alabaster skin. She wanted him, she wanted to destroy him and love him with her teeth in his throat. "Him... Can we have him?" She damn near purred, drawing Nikolae's arm about her waist, stepping back into his chest. "We can love him to death."

[Cordelia]

Cordelia swayed and bounced, not to the beat of the music, but to the pounding of the hearts around her. Oooooh, the sound was delicious, making her wish she could drool. It was a sound she could tangibly feel, the thrum of the music almost an extra layer to the beating hearts. She licked her lips, and reached out for a stranger.

The kiss she shoved to the woman's lips was rough and heady, one hand tangling into her technicolor hair, the other gripping her waist. She clung back, even after Cordelia broke the kiss and buried her face against the strange woman's bare shoulder. Fangs dropped, and she buried ivory daggers into sweat-sheened skin, gulping down the intoxicating lifeblood.

The woman's only reaction was a deep moan.