Lost in the Echo [Open]

[Raven Talius]

Raven felt her fingers curve as the portal took her out to the darken streets, streets that felt as if they were too closed in for their own good. Her footsteps echoed as she traversed down alley and street until she stood in the alley where she had originally died before she had come back as a vampire. Why? Why did Clover turn her? Why the **** did she turn her? Her hands reached out to grasp at a large bin, as her fingers gripped at the metal. Inside, she was crumbling. Destruction, the woman left destruction. It was why Clover was better off without her, why it was better off that everyone was better without her. She ruined things through her inability to see or feel the correct emotions they needed. The woman felt fire, but at that point she felt an emotional pain that tore her in half. The fledgling finally let out a scream and she drew away from the bin, as she exhaled.

”I should have known…” She said softly to herself as she dropped to her knees. The woman should have known that she would **** it up, that in the end it would be her fault that things ended so horribly wrong. Slowly, her gaze dropped downwards as she moved backwards to sit upon her heels. Her human family had disowned her and her own twin had tried to kill her, she shouldn’t be surprised that she would ruin this as well. It felt as if her heart had been ripped out and all that was left was a hollow chest. Finally, she realized something, she was better off when she was alone and unfeeling. She was better off dead. At that realization, she heard the back door open and close. Heeled footsteps echoed against stone walls as they grew closer, before finally, the human was close enough to stop before her and Raven lifted her gaze.

Black hair, wavy hair caressed bared, shivering shoulders and Raven’s gaze slid upwards further still to spy green eyes. She could almost laugh at the irony, the irony being that someone had asked her for green eyes, but it would be another thing that she couldn’t fulfill. Another thing that she would fail at. “Are you alright?” The silly human asked and slowly the vampire rose from her kneeled position upon the ground. ”No… I’m not ok. I died here once, in this alleyway. I guess that it’s only fitting that I die here again.” It was at this point that the woman turned to run as she let out a scream. However, Raven’s hand lashed forwards to grasp at black locks and tugged the human back to her grasp. Hands moved to shoulders and she slammed the girl against brick wall, knocking the wind and scream right out of her. ”I guess, you and many others will die as well. Predictably enough.” She said softly as fangs pushed through gums to drop into her mouth.

”You better have said goodbye to your loved ones before you left home,” Was all she said before she lunged forwards to sink her fangs into the woman’s neck before she jaggedly tore them out. Fangs tore through skin, flesh and artery as blood spurted out from the gash and covered the Serial Killer in crimson. Blood dripped from her figure as her brown hues simply stared at the human and watched as the light drained from her eyes. Yes, she wasted blood, but at that point, the woman couldn’t bring herself to care. Simply because just like the light that drained from the green eyes of the innocent, she too felt the light drain from her own body only to be replaced by a dark void. One that threatened to consume her, to sink its dark talons in and never let her go. She had escaped those talons when she had turned, begun to slowly trust all over again. That all shattered the moment that Raven had begun to feel that she had failed Clover by simply continuing to talk to Doc.

The fledgling was the worst childe imaginable, the worst family member and the worst friend. She could never be what people expected her to be, even if she tried. Darkness was all she felt at that point and slowly, she released the woman whose lifeless eyes stared. Her brown hues watched the body slowly fall to the ground and she reached out then to grasp at black locks once more. Fingers of her right hand moved to slide around the hilt of her sword and she pulled it free of its scabbard so she could slice the head from the body. Why she did so? She wasn’t sure, she just knew that as the darkness enclosed around her heart, she acted more on autopilot than rationality.

If she had been thinking, she probably would have heard the other set of footsteps and heard the click as a trigger was pulled. Pain exploded through her hand and she instinctively let go of the head that she held, only to turn around to face her attacker. A man, covered in tattoos approached her and she bared her fangs at him. How many more were there? Had he heard the human’s scream or her own? “Vampire.” Was the only word that parted is lips and finally a smirk caressed her lips. This, this was what she was. A vampire, a murderer who deserved to be alone. An icy grip sank into her chest and began to spread through her entire form. A shudder shook her form as she simply angled her head to watch the hunter that she now faced. "Yes, that I am," She said softly as she watched the man aim his weapon once again.

[Wearing]

[Nikolae]

Nikolae Dragomir checked the clip on his gun, emptying the chamber before sliding the thing back into its holster at his side. It was a little bulky, not exactly hidden despite the leather jacket he always wore, but then again these nights the Dragon had little use of playing possum. Even the cops were shooting to kill, paranoia had taken a whole new level of crazy these nights. He wasn’t sure how things would turn out, by the time all was said and done, but if he had any say in it he and his Dragons would at least be unscathed. Anything outside that most basic of desires, he had not yet determined. He had a feeling his growing lineage would make it, though. They stuck together. Protected their own. Even those not necessarily their own, but on the periphery and protected whether they wanted it or not. A few names and faces came to mind. Friends of the Dragons, he called them. It was more than that, though; a connection sparked that would be honored at least on the side of the Dragomir. Whether it would be reciprocated only time would tell. In a town such as this, cut throat and thieves running the joint, he didn’t bother hoping. The Dragons would hold to their own high ground, what everyone else did was ultimately on them.

The sound of a shot jarred him from his musings, and he paused in his steps. Not nearly as curious in these nights as it would have been some months prior. Although, if the Tyts were back to their old shenanigans maybe even less curious than he first suspected. Still, the Dragon was intrigued. He followed the sound of the scuffle, staying in the shadows and far from the pesky street lights that he had never favored. A voice spoke, and he frowned. He knew that girl. Knew that drawl, the edge of ‘I don’t give a damn’ and ‘**** the world’. He shook his head, weighing the pros and cons of getting involved. She had always firmly reminded he and the rest of the Dragons that she didn’t need anybody, and definitely didn’t need help. Still…

He stepped closer almost against his will. The gun was aimed right at her, and she was already bleeding. Was that a chunk of skull on the wall behind her? Nikolae grimaced and reached out with his unbelievable dexterity, snatching the gun and twisting to hear the satisfying sound of bones in a wrist breaking. He swept his other hand out and slammed the male into the wall head first. Was he dead? Alone or with others nearby to seek vengeance? Nikolae didn’t particularly care in the moment. He stepped over the body and shook his head with a sigh of exasperation at the woman.

“Ravenheart, your hair is ruined.” He tutted, reaching out to tuck her bloody hair behind her ear. It was a useless endeavor. He squinted those dragon eyes at her skull speculatively. “How on earth did that creature get the drop on you?” He tutted. She was a killer to her core; a core of kindness so closed off it might as well have been Fort Knox. Still, he knew he and his Dragons had been allowed in through whatever tiny slot existed.

[Raven Talius]

Raven stared down the barrel of the gun and knew that it was pointed directly at her chest, but there was no thought left inside of her that truly mattered. Except, for one thing. Her sire, had not wanted to return from the Shadow Realm. She had wanted to stay in the darkness, by herself. The fledgling made no move to defend herself and the point of her sword remained pointing downwards as blood dripped from the tip to the hard ground underneath her feet. It was as if the whole world had suddenly slowed right down to a point where everything barely moved. Even the soft echoing sounds of blood dripping, sounded delayed to her ears. That was until everything snapped back into normal speed and Nikolae came from the shadows to attack the human hunter. She still hadn’t moved the whole time as the other vampire disarmed and knocked the hunter unconscious. In fact, she barely registered it until the man tutted and called her by his favourite nickname for her. Ravenheart.

She blinked then as she slowly shifted to slide the blade back into its scabbard then as her brown hues focused upon the familiar figure of Nikolae. The head of the Dragomir line. His hand reached out to tuck bloodied locks of hair behind her ear and she remembered that most of the blood wasn’t even hers, the woman had wasted a kill. Her lips had parted to speak, but the man spoke once more. A sigh caressed her lips then as she lifted a hand to run over her own cheek, smearing the crimson colour over more pale skin. ”I… Was distracted.” She finally said as her gaze finally focused upon the man in front of her, upon the dragon that had stepped in for her when she had been far too preoccupied with dismembering a simple human. Funny how it was a dragon that seemed to have been close by when she wasn’t herself.

”I heard news that… Was disturbing to say in the very least.” Slowly, she turned to look down at the headless body that was slumped against the wall. A pool of blood had spurted from the neck region to also splatter against the brick wall. It had also gathered around the body like a crimson mirror. The head has landed in the pool next to the body when the hunter had shot at her hand. She lifted her hand then to view the bullet's trajectory which had grazed the back of her knuckles. It had more or less been a a warning shot. The fledgling turned back to the man and frowned once more as she remembered that he had tucked her bloodied hair behind her ear, which triggered a memory. The man had also once given her a pin to put into her hair, a dragon pin if she recalled and said that it was to remind her of the light. That she would always have a dragon within her life. Whether that was true or not, she wasn’t so sure.

Her tongue darted out to lick her lips and she tasted the blood of the human. ”He must have heard me or the silly human girl.” She had been falling apart, that was how he had gotten the jump on her. The woman had been shattering all over again, but this time she wasn’t lying in a hospital bed as it happened. No, she had been shattering in front of a human girl, a hunter and now a Dragon. The woman should have been more guarded, she should have waited until she was sure that she would be alone. She had to get a grip, but for some reason or another, she knew that at least for a little while, with Nikolae there, she didn’t have to, even though she knew that she should. Shattering was a sign or weakness. ”My sire did indeed come back from the Shadow Realm.” Raven said softly as her gaze returned back to Nikolae’s face, it felt as if she could tell him, his presence calming at least for a little while until he left. ”She hadn’t wanted to return to the land of the living.”

[Azraeth]

The hunger for blood was a singular bright spot, a lighthouse in what was otherwise a sea of eternal night. If all vampires were voyagers, then where humans might have seen a moon, and stars, and constellations far above, they saw only that single throbbing point. Humankind experienced a myriad of different needs and desires, but at their core, all of Azraeth's kind were the same. They were predators. He had met a few who fed only from animals and called it 'better', but at the end of the day, they still hunted. They still killed. They still felt hot blood pumping into their mouths and down their throats. Prima facie requirement. You live. You die. You become a blood sucking monster. Welcome to the club.

For every type of vampire, it seemed there were new and different ways to enjoy that one thing which unified them. Some were clean and efficient, having a thrall give them blood, before dismissing it. No muss. No fuss. Others needed the chase. They needed to feel the adrenaline course through their veins and feel a life end under the hard snap of their bite. Azraeth liked to play with his food. His most recent game involved a youth minister from one of the local congregations. He'd met the man after attending a late Wednesday church service (the irony had been Az's motivation there), and had gotten a lock on his scent. And for all intents and purposes, Parker Tate was a good guy. He hadn't abused his position of power. He hadn't done anything to deserve the games.

It wasn't about retribution or anything so noble as that. They were just two dichotomically opposed forces. Creature of darkness, and child of the light. Call it a cliché. Azraeth loved his clichés. So Thursday, he had carefully seeded the intense need inside of Parker's head to come to Az's location – specifically a night club with a less than stellar reputation. Az had watched from afar as the man looked around in confusion, trying to decide why he was there, what had pulled him to that place. The vampire had not fed from him then, but instead caressed against his consciousness with a few stray thoughts in the form of words. Your god has abandoned you, little boy. And then the mystic had left.

Friday had been a bar. Saturday had been a gay bar. Sunday had been an adult video store. Right in the middle of evening service. Monday it was a crack house in the slums. Tuesday he called the man to the scene of a crime right as the cops were showing up. Poor Parker was detained for a couple of days after that, but it didn't stop Az from calling out to the man. The vampire watched from across the street when Parker beat his head against the bars with the need to try and get out. By the time Friday rolled around, Parker had been let out, because they couldn't find anything to tie him to the crime. The entire time, through all of those days, Azraeth would speak to him, into his mind. He would reach into his thoughts. Night after night after night. He went silent though, when Parker was freed, because that was part of the game too. And so it was Saturday.

Parker stood across from Az in a dark alley, and serpentine eyes peered into that pure soul with the gaze of a demon. It looked like Parker hadn't slept in a week. He probably hadn't. Where once there had been clean lines, a smooth jaw, and intense eyes, there were sloppy clothes, greasy hair, patchy facial hair and a delirious look. It was the first time Az had let himself be seen outright. Oh, Parker might have caught glimpses of him before, but this was the night when he got to see his tormentor. "Your god has abandoned you." And then he fed from the man. He didn't kill. He drank only as much as he needed and left the man slumped there against a wall. Parker might remember a face. Might remember slight details,but it would all be a hazy blur.

Az wondered just how desperate the man might become. And that too was part of their game.

He was carefully tidying up droplets of blood that clung to his lips, walking away from the scene of the crime when, by chance, he heard the quiet exchange of two familiar voices. The first was one he could have picked out of anywhere. The man who had turned him. Nikolae. The other was newer, but he would have recognized it all the same. Raven. Who was having trouble with her family. Who had more complexity in her left pinky than many of the vampires Azraeth had met, had in their whole bodies. The woman reminded him of a better version of Az's own twin brother. In truth, he already saw her in those terms, like a sister. Because she had flint and steel in place of bones, and in her chest there wasn't a heart, but an inferno.

He caught the tail end of their conversation, and to save himself from being an eavesdropper, he slid closer to the pair with those even footsteps, hands pushed into the leather of a jacket. "You know, coming back is optional, so clearly she wanted to return enough to leave the Shadow Realm." Az understood that greyscale purgatory well. Every time he went back, he felt it pull at him. Beg him to stay. It called out to him like a mother to a child. Returning took willpower, and strength, and desire. It wasn't some card to be played in a game of domestic squabbles. "You're injured." He realized as his eyes adjusted and he glanced to Raven.

[Nikolae]

Nikolae tilted his head curiously at the morose woman in front of him. While she was rarely the beaming happy creature that his Enzo was, she was generally smirking with a devious inner light that promised should ones back be turned she wouldn’t hesitate to steal from them or simply give a playful stab into an organ. He liked that about her, personally. She was unapologetic, in your face, take it or leave it, and firmly settled into the person that she was. He would never ask her to change, if only because it was a rare treat to meet someone so sure of themselves. It was a strength he wasn’t sure she even recognized she had, but one he hoped to encourage for the rest of the very long eternity they were both staring down the barrel of.

“Distracted in these streets.” He replied quietly, his slitted eyes taking in the scene with more keenness. There was a beheaded mortal lying on the ground a few feet away. Ravenheart’s usual means of disposal, he deduced by the relatively clean swipe of the blade through the pesky brainstem. Perhaps this was how she had delivered those eyes to his sweet Yvette. He had yet to think of the right way to thank Raven for looking after the girl the way she did. Without even asking it of her, she had proven she could be trusted to guard those of his brood who needed it most. Already he had, from time to time, looked to her to do just that. He wasn’t sure if she had realized that yet or not either. He hoped she didn’t mind. “Well. If one of these things gets the drop on you again, tome to Raeth’s immediately. He has fancy towels to clean up with.” He winked to her with a half-grin, well aware his eldest had approached.

Nik passed a hand over Raeth’s back when the male in question finally did step closer. He nodded to the mans words, though he didn’t recall ever feeling that same pull himself. He had heard Doc speak of it, though. An odd thing. A fight to stay in the land of the living rather than roam the land of the dead. Nik had never felt such. To him, the Realm was just another place. Perhaps his Shadowed blood dulled the effects? He did not know. Never thought much on it, really.

“Your sire sounds like… a very confused woman. But she has Jesse to look after her.” He replied after a long moment to consider. It wasn’t really his place to judge a lineage he had nothing to do with. But Raven was his concern. Had become as such over a period of time, and he could not rightly pinpoint the moment he had decided such. She was as important as any of his Dragons. And to hear the desolation in her voice now nearly made him consider what he knew of the Fforde. How easy might it be to send the pair right back into the Realm they wanted so very much? Probably quite easy. He angled a look on Raven, and knew Raeth no doubt knew his thoughts without even trying to guess them. Ravenheart would doubtless not be happy with Nikolae’s interference, he decided. Though it pained him to accept that. It was part and parcel of the woman, though. She was the mistress of her own destiny – and again, he loved that most of all about her.

“It is not your duty to fix her. Or any of them. Do not let them drag you into that place.” He sighed with a small frown, reaching to touch her shoulder and guide her away from the scene of the crime. Or crimes, as it were. The man he’d punished had had it coming, though. “You are not like them, Ravenheart. I have never met a more self assured vampire in all my years in this hell we call home. You could draw many lost spirits to yourself and drown in their sorrows, if you allowed it.” He warned carefully. He sensed that much was true. From what little he knew of the woman’s sire, and the quick to act Jesse Fforde, the two were no doubt drawn like moths to the fire that was his sweet, vicious Ravenheart. It was the thought that their smothering might inadvertently snuff out that flame that had him considering a murder or two of his own. He passed a look to Raeth, to calm himself from such thoughts. Maybe he could hire a hit….

[Enzo Dragomir]

The steady rhythm of the place thrummed through him like a forced heartbeat. The Allurist didn’t normally have such a burden so he closed his eyes for a few moments to savour the feel of being alive… even if it was an illusion. Slowly he opened them again, the colour of a thousand storms at sea looked at the man sitting beside him, assessing and feigning interest. The youth was saying something to him, it would have been lost to a human in the din of the nightclub but Enzo had the advantage of heightened senses. An unfortunate circumstance at this moment as the man tried to appear witty, charming even, in an attempt to get laid.

Lorenzo’s lips curved slightly, just enough of a smile to give a glimmer of hope to the younger man, who really should learn to rest on the laurels of his angelic looks. Byronesque, the man had a head of golden curls haphazardly lying over forehead, touching eyes equally gold. His flesh was soft and smooth, pale like only a natural blonde can achieve, it was skin that made your fingertips drift up of their own accord to touch, to see if it was real or a beautiful illusion. The man had attempted to appear trendy, a silk tee in a rich bronze tucked into leather pants of dark blood red, almost black. There were no tattoos to mar that flesh, Enzo hated inked skin on his victims, he wanted to be the only thing that marked their flesh. “So you look like you are slumming…” teetered the man, flattery seeming to be his weapon of choice tonight. The Dragon had almost reached the end of his patience and leaned forward, his face stopping inches from the younger mans, close enough that his rumbling almost purr could be felt in … daiden’s .. or whatever his name was .. core. He had thought this one was special, like an angel in a Botticelli painting, gold and ivory, brilliant against an eternity of nights.

“Look, you could continue to try and talk **** me, or we can get out of here.” He said simply. Not waiting for a reply he stood then, his full height of 6”4 was impressive at the worst of times, but tonight it was positively exploding power and sex, his dark low slung slacks were a second skin, a soft grey shirt unbuttoned to navel and half covered in a leather outer shirt, also unbuttoned showed off the form he had hard won in life and now was blessed to keep in all of eternity… or until he met true death. He didn’t wait for an answer, he knew Daiden was a willing victim and he held his hand out. The only thing he was pondering now was whether to kill him after taking, or tossing him onto Az’s sofa as an impromptu gift. He was to the point he rather disliked leaving any food alive, it was so rare he got to hunt anymore… between his businesses, running Dragonal, the eternal hunt for the why’s and hows of their vampiric history and his social calendar… and the damned city wide panic lately, he’d subsisted off blood packs and a prayer.

Just as predicted the blonde stood up and took Enzo’s hand… just as INXS’s ‘suicide blonde’ began to play. Well if that wasn’t fortune favouring the bold he didn’t know what was. He leaned down and breathed a soft sound of desire against the man’s ear, more vibrations than sound and turned to push through the crowd by sheer presence. People tended to move out of Enzo’s way, and tonight was no different. He didn’t take the front route, instead opting for the back exit. It lent to his seduction, giving the illusion he was in a hurry to be alone with his meal, it also steered clear of the lines out front waiting entry. He felt Daiden’s hand touch the small of his back and he looked over his shoulder to sear him with a dark look before continuing to the exit. Pushing out into the night, he needed no time to adjust as it was just as dark out here as it was in there, he tugged the blonde along with him, picking up his steps into a brisk walk.

It was then that he turned on the man and shoved him up against the brick wall, pushing out gently with his thoughts, catching his gaze, holding it, enslaving it… until there was nothing left in the youth but the need to serve. It was over in the blink of an eye. Lorenzo had become so adept at dominating and enthralling humans it took almost no thought anymore. He used to thrill in the challenge, the test of wills… that seemed eons ago.. now it was like wielding a butcher knife on butter.

“Who do you belong to Daiden?” he asked quietly, his lips touching the man’s throat just above the pulse of his jugular, the heat seducing the Dragon more than anything else the little angel could offer. And as the man melted against Enzo, pooled into him as if he couldn’t live if his skin wasn’t touching any part of his captor, the answer was redundant. “You…. Please…” the breath was rushed and soft, filled with need and servitude. “Take me, I’ll do whatever you want… “ Daiden began to drop to his knees in true submissive form, only to be stopped part way by a hand with so much strength it would have stunned a clear mind, under the chin. Enzo pulled him back up and locked gazes again, looking over his tinted glasses so that the lad could get a full view of the dragon slits and know he was doomed.

Cherubic gold eyes met Demon hued silver and the man let a single tear slip down his cheek as he realized he was in the hands of death and not only could not fight it… was being made to want it. Enzo loved killing angels, tearing them apart from their wings and halos inward. It tasted like win covered in virginity.

“Come.” He said simply, taking the mans hand and leading him back toward Azraeth’s condo, he felt in the mood to share with his beloved brother… and Bertram had the night off at his own place. “I have a special surprise for you darling boy.” He smiled then to himself as he wandered through the maze of alleyways “You’re going to meet the prettiest demon you’ll ever see.” The two lapsed into silence, only the staccato beat of their shoes to be heard until the sounds of a small group of people could be heard in the distance. Lorenzo stopped for a moment and looked, debating his course… so close to the Beta Towers… he didn’t wish to be distracted… and then he recognized one of the voices as his sire…

Nikolae? What was he doing out here… it wasn’t even a very seedy neighborhood…

He picked up his pace and turned the corner of the alley, to be met with the view of death, destruction… and his brother, sire and Rae Rae. Well wasn’t that a **** all.

“Look lamb, it seems my plans to give Azraeth a doggy bag have come a bit sooner than I thought.” Was the droll rumble as he slid into view of the trio… dazed human walking on sunshine behind him.

[Raven Talius]

Raven wondered, just as to how many more dragons would see her fall as she let feathers float behind her in her wake? Words were spoken, words that barely registered with the fledgling and she couldn’t help but wonder just as to how they were able to turn up at such an opportune time. Yes, she had been distracted when the hunter had appeared, but what was she going to do when the hunter finally pulled the trigger upon her? The fledgling had just stood there and watched him rise with his gun ready to kill. To kill, yes, because she was a monster, a serial killer that killed humans for her own entertainment. However, as she had stared down that barrel that threatened her with death, she realized that she had accepted her fate as it seemed to be repeated at every opportunity.

Death, blood, destruction and loss of relationships. The fledgling saw herself as a poison that couldn’t afford to ever truly be happy, no matter the venture. She was destined to constantly disappoint her sire, upset her even. Jesse had been the one to convince Clover to come back to the living. Even if Raven had been able to go to the Shadow Realm herself, she doubted that she could have ever convinced her sire to come back, she just was never a good enough anchor for anyone. Nor could anyone ever truly be an anchor for her. The woman was constantly adrift, flying from one place to the next. So in all honesty, she couldn’t ever truly say that she could lay claim to anything. It was why she placed no value in money nor possessions. Anything that she had, she didn’t have any attachment to. Except for her bird, Red. He is the only exception to her rule. Everything else could be tossed, broken or lost for all she cared. Attachments to material objects only tied someone down. They couldn’t disappear if they wanted to.

Injured. The word flashed through her mind then as she remembered Azraeth making such a comment about it. She flexed her hand then and her shoulders rose and fell in a simple shrug. “It’s a small wound, it will heal soon enough,” She said softly, dismissing the possible idea that it was at all that important. Why should she bother about her wounds that will heal in a few hours? What did her wounds matter? What did anything matter? Her feathers felt as if they were all falling from her wings to slowly float down to the pavement underneath their feet. The fledgling then felt the man reach out to gently take her shoulder, to guide her away from the crimes before them. Did it really matter? She was sure that with the amount of vampires present that they could take down a small armed squad of humans.

”A self assured vampire,” Raven scoffed as she lifted a hand to lightly caress the hilt of her sword that had been tucked away safely into its scabbard. ”I had to be, I have only myself to rely upon. Everyone else just wants to either kill me or turn their backs eventually. I never have a true home.” As was true, she always saw the residences that she lived in as temporary. It was why she didn’t carry very much, nor did she expect much of anyone. Why expect when all she would be doing was setting herself up for waves of disappointment? Her gaze shifted between both men, although she hadn’t been too sure just as to when Azraeth had arrived. Another factor of her rather distracted mind perhaps? The woman lifted a hand to tuck more bloodied strands of hair behind her ear as she simply took in Azraeth’s form for a moment.

That was until she heard Enzo’s voice and she turned to view the man who was walking down the alley with a human in tow. A pretty one, which suited Enzo, but her light grip upon the hilt on her blade turned into a death grip. She was sure that she didn’t have a control upon anything right now, especially her thirst. The woman had wasted a whole human, ripped open her pretty neck and watched her bleed out. While it was a waste of blood, she could see herself simply killing the other human in tow, even though it wasn’t her own. His heart beat called to her, ’thump, thump, thump.’ Raven was sure that one day, her thirst would be the death of her. One dragon had quickly turned into three and she was struggling to regain herself. To pull it all together long enough for her to find herself alone so then she could beat her fists bloody. "Well don't you dragons have an interesting way of finding each other," She said softly, mostly to direct the attention from herself. Raven didn't want them to see. They all thought of her as cold and heartless, why change that view?

[Azraeth]

Images flashed through Az's mind as he peered over Raven's form. Inside of the vault that was his skull, he could see the falling form of a dark bird. He could see it plummeting towards the earth as feathers streamed out of its wings. So black were those feathers that they were naturally highlighted in a myriad of colors, like the facets of a garnet or the sheen of a beetle shell. Two stories came to mind at the sight. First was the obvious. Icarus, who flew too close to the sun and was swallowed by the sea, who drowned in the watery tomb of explorers and pirates. The other story that came to mind was of the Rainbow Crow of native mythologies – a bird with wings of many colors, who became burned and blackened because he dared to warn the buffalo of a hunter's approach. Who was punished by mankind for seeking to protect his brother.

Both of those stories represented a fall from grace. Both represented pointless cruelty. Because only the heartless gods would let a boy die for curiosity. And only mankind, who created those gods, would scar something for daring to protect.

The images faded from his mind slowly.

Only to be replaced by Nikolae's ire. Az's sire had an unshakable composure. He was the living embodiement of those '[emotion here] face' memes. Where the same stony expression represented every single emotion in the spectrum from sadness to mania. Indeed, the man could easily smile just as evenly when he was ending someone's life as he might have when he was greeting someone new for the first time. But after five years, Azraeth was gifted at reading his moods. He knew there was an implied threat in there somewhere. Because Nikolae viewed Raven as one of his. And if you hurt something that belonged to Nikolae, he became a very dangerous creature indeed. The first dragon with his hoard. The gold sickness. The rage of ancients. Do not touch what was never yours.. Nikolae was like that. What you saw was just the tip of the iceberg, and the mammoth hunk of ice floating beneath the surface was where he truly was. Another reason Az had remained his sire's devoted childer for years. Because he was the shadow of the Dragomir. Not just their leader, but that unavoidable, unwavering part of them that they didn't always see, but was always there. There were people who described Az as a rock or anchor. But Nikolae was the foundation of their house, and he was unmoving.

Unceasing.

Reliable.

Strong.

And if the Dragomir were a cult (as they were sometimes called), then Az would worship the man who had given him immortality until he was nothing but ash and memory.

A hand slid into his jacket so he could pull out his box of band-aids. They did very little for vampires, but at the very least, they could cover a wound so that anyone casting a casual glance in their direction was not alarmed by a gaping hole in the flesh. They were neon colors, so he withdrew one that looked like vibrant Tang, and lifted a brow as if to say We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Though his faint smile said that there was no real weight to the threat behind that gaze. "I don't know about that. Eternity seems like a long time to not have a home." Of course, that topic brushed against a thought that wiggled its way towards the back of Az's mind. That the woman was self-destructive. That she fought endlessly and hunted endlessly because that was all she knew. Because that was what life had made of her. Because she had never been taught how to be part of something or how to love something. Even herself. That was the truth of people who were self-destructive. They didn't know how to love themselves. Or they didn't believe they were worth that love. Not that Az said any of that out loud, because that was too real.

"You know my place is always open to you. It's up to you to decide where you want to lay your roots though, Rave. I can't make you want to stay, but I can say that my home is yours for as long as you want it to be. Now. Tomorrow. A year from now. A hundred years from now. You know you can come and go as you please. My home is your home." No strings attached. Just like the first night he had offered her a chance to sleep somewhere other than on a couch.

They were moving then, sliding away from the alleyway and towards the street, though where they were going was a mystery. There was a shift though, in the atmosphere. He felt a presence. He saw his brother. There was Enzo, with something angelic trailing behind him. There again was the image of Icaraus, the human angel. He heard his sibling's words and he tipped his head slowly to one side so he could draw in the figure behind the imposing Allurist. Doggy bag? His smile grew as he brushed past the other man so that he could assess the human properly. Tribute. Offering from dragon to dragon. They were known for giving gifts to each other. Nobody said it out loud, but there was something sacred about it. Like rite or ritual. They did it without thinking. They gave to each other, of each other. Blindly. Possessed of my brother's possessions. "He's gorgeous." Though he looked a little too much like Az's birth body. It would have been a little bit suicidal to drain the angel dry and leave it a withered husk under his own hunger. "I hope you don't mind if I share with Rave." He said a moment later. Another step in the dance of dragons.

He lifted a hand to lazily drag the edge of a digit across the sculpted smoothness of a jawbone and then chin. He motioned towards the woman with the red and black hair then. "It seems that way. I'm beginning to think we have built in DGPS or something." He muttered in response to the woman's comment before he slid alongside Nikolae and motioned towards the wide world in front of them. "I have no clue where to go but I feel like violence is on the menu. And don't think you've escaped talking about your feelings, Wreckingball."