diesiirae

[diesiirae]

Somehow, Vulpe could tell it was a lie, but it did make him feel better. He sighed, his body following the touch of the human’s hands. His guard was still up, a terrifying emotion taking a hold of his veins, but still– he allowed himself a moment of grace for such vulnerable position. — You’re good at this. — he complimented in sing-song, warmth spreading through his back, quickly reaching his neck. Seraphiel didn’t blush often, but he wasn’t immune to it, and his reddening skin was enough proof of it.

Vulpe could even say he felt young again; just a naive angel who lived above the clouds and didn’t understand what humanity entailed. He felt clean, purified of all sin. Perhaps it was a delusion, a deliberate misconception to make himself feel better, but Vulpe didn’t fight back. He wasn’t going to punish himself further, just as Taliesin had instructed him to do. Even though the human had berated him, the Celestial felt he was surprisingly gentle, and it made him smile.

The advice only made his grin grow wide. — Who would’ve thought such a pretty flower held immense knowledge? — he found Taliesin’s thighs, patting them down with fondness. — When we are up in heaven, there’s not much we need to do to care for ourselves. On earth, however… — his voice was quiet once more, head lost in wonders. — Well… Thank you for choosing this. It is too kind. — Vulpe reached his curls, feeling them up with awe. — This feels a lot better, indeed.

"It's not that bad, I'm just being dramatic," Taliesin lied, a little. He wasn't sure why he wanted to spare Vulpe's feelings all of a sudden. Maybe it was the subtle tremble in his body, the heave of his shoulders as he spoke, his voice so soft and small. Taliesin didn't normally know what to do with other people experiencing an emotion, he would usually find an excuse to leave, or stand in a corner, laughing at it with someone else. Maybe he was going soft.

The comb tugged through Vulpe's curls, struggling at first, before finally persuading them to bend to its downward force. Taliesin worked in sections, starting with the ends. He'd spent enough time brushing his long-haired cat to know he couldn't start at the root without unnecessary breakage. Thinking about the cat he'd left behind filled him with sadness. He hoped that Soren was looking after her. His parents certainly wouldn't be.

"If you want to take care of other people, you have to take care of yourself first." Where this advice was coming from, Taliesin didn't know. He'd never taken care of anyone at all, unless the cat counted. Sure, he could take care of his own physical needs, but whenever something went wrong he'd always gone running to his brother. "You're not making me. I'm choosing to. Please don't undermine what little autonomy I have left."

Once they were untangled, Vulpe's curls were actually rather pretty, bouncier that Taliesin's own, which started to straighten as they got longer, pulled down by the force of gravity. Much longer and he'd need to start tying them back. He was hoping he'd be able to persuade someone to take him for a haircut. "There you go. Much better."

[diesiirae]

— That’s a relief. — Vulpe mumbled. He didn’t have many acquaintances inside the castle, and the loneliness started getting to him. At least, while he was with his previous owners, he had the pleasure of being constantly surrounded by people – even though they were all vampires, the younglings took a liking to Seraphiel. Krovs didn’t provide him with such a blessing: instead, he spent most of his time locked away in the Undercroft, staring at the wall, counting bricks. It was maddening. — You’re lucky, I suppose. Raphael seems to have a soft spot for you.

The question made Vuple whistle, eyes looking anywhere but at Charlie. — I don’t even know properly. — he muttered, his fingers turning white at the knuckles. — Something… Just turned sour. I needed to leave. I jumped him before I could think. — he admitted in a quiet voice, somewhat scared. He hadn’t lost control like that in a while. While he locked arms with Charlie, however, it was easy to forget such occurrence. — Yes, please. That sounds divine.

"Yeah, well, I don't think you really have to worry about losing me any time soon. Pretty sure Raphael won't do shit to me unless I make another escape attempt." His master had been (sort of) forgiving after paying to have Charlie's ass dragged back to the castle, but he didn't think it was something he would be surviving a second time. He'd seen what the councilman did to his slaves who either started to bore him or displease the ghoul in some way and Charlie was very happy to avoid that fate for as long as he could. Shaking away the mental images, a snort of laughter escaped the younger man. "Did you? And what did he do to deserve that?"

That was something Charlie might have done when he first came to the castle, but six years in Krovs had taught him that he really needed to pick his battles. And fighting every master, no matter how tempting, probably wasn't the smartest move at the end of the day. He offered Vulpe a small smile and hooked his arm through the Celestial's, starting to lead him toward the stairs that led up and out of the Undercroft. "What do you want to do first? A bit of fresh air and then the bar maybe?"

[diesiirae]

Although his memories of the heavens were shaded in sepia hues, it wasn’t as if an angel could forget their creator. It loomed over him, constantly — to be a Celestial meant you were closer to God; but not alike him in the way humans were. It was akin to a consuming devotion, nothing which permitted self-importance to prevail. Since Vulpe had disobeyed higher orders, the thin thread that held him together trembled: all punishment felt fair, in a way. How could he defy his creator? How could he resent a god? And so– and so, Vulpe remained in between. No longer a pristine angel, never fully human.

His hands were quite shaky, the breath lodged in his lungs becoming sparse. He felt a bit on edge — to exposed, as he was, back completely turned to Taliesin. It’s not like the human had a reason to hurt him. But, then again, most creatures never possessed one, either. Vulpe still had those scars. His voice was tiny when he spoke up. — Is it really that bad? — he almost felt guilty. What kind of angel was he, really? He could barely keep his hair under control. How was he to protect anyone?

He chuckled at the mention of pain. The tugging of dark strands was bothersome, but Vulpe’s scalp had seen worse. Although he’d never admit it, the sensation was pleasant. He wasn’t entirely sure anyone had ever groomed him with such kindness. The words Taliesin professed made Vulpe swallow dry. He’d never cried before but, suddenly, he wanted to. Had he ever taken care of himself? He ravaged through the millennia of memories, and couldn’t find any evidence of it.

The truth was that divinity could be so pathetic once earth-bound. — I suppose I’ve never learnt that, either. — his voice was still quieter than usual, his eyes closing as he sighed. — I’m a Celestial of Charity. — he explained, although it meant “I am supposed to serve all but myself”. — You’re right, though. There’s no point in adding to my own suffering. And… I apologize. For making you take care of me like this.

"Quite." Unfortunately, the old idiom had never stopped anyone expecting perfection out of Taliesin and, as a result, especially as far as appearances went, he expected it in himself. He frowned at Vulpe, his eyebrows knitted together in concern. He supposed he didn't really understand how angels were made, where they came from. Quite possibly there had been no parents, no schooling, to explain these things to Vulpe.

He steered Vulpe in the direction of the sofa and sat down beside him, turning the angel to face with his back to Taliesin so he could get a look at the knotted curls. Terrible, just terrible. It was a wonder that no one had decided to shave Vulpe's head bald to deal with the mess. "The state of this," he tsked, sliding his comb out of his pocket, briefly uncertain of where to start. "This is probably going to hurt, but it will feel much better when I'm finished."

Taliesin set to work combing, not bothering to be particularly gentle about it. He'd learnt to comb his own hair as a toddler, with how rough his mother had been with him, how unsympathetic to any tears. "You have to take care of yourself. It doesn't have to be for them, in fact it probably shouldn't be. It should be for you. Just because Krovs is set on punishing doesn't mean you have to punish yourself."

[diesiirae]

— No one is perfect. — he replied with simplicity, something worn out spreading through his face. He wasn’t always like this: turning himself smaller became an instinct after the war. It was not only his posture that worsened, but the state of his body overall. He found Taliesin’s stare after he commanded Vulpe to do so. — Oh, are you interested in what I have to say? That is a first! — he whistled, tousling his own hair as a reflex.

— That became my specialty, come on. — his whine wasn’t an honest one. It was an avoidance tactic, in a way. Being near someone else out him on edge. Vulpe sighed. — It’s not really on purpose. — he explained, baby blue eyes looking lost for a second or two. — Uh… I’m not… I don’t have one? To be fair, I don’t look in the mirror much, if at all. — he knew Taliesin would judge his answer, but there wasn’t much more the celestial could say. — The basics are so extensive…

"You're supposed to be perfect beings, aren't you? You'd think that extended to holding yourself well. And you'd be surprised what good posture can do for you." Taliesin had always had preternaturally good posture, even before he went to boarding school, the same as his mother. If he lounged or slumped, it was entirely for effect. It was one of the first things people had commented on about him, even before the glow-up he went through at the tail-end of puberty. His brother, meanwhile, was seeing a chiropractor about some scoliosis. Soren had never had much confidence.

He supposed, thinking about, it was the way his parents had never once been proud of him. If he wanted reassurance, he had been forced to make his own. "Look at me when you're speaking to me. Don't look at your shoes. They're definitely not interested in what you have to say. I might be." Sometimes Taliesin had found himself speaking to his shoes in front of his mother and she had always berated him for it.

"Yes. You can't expect to seduce anyone hunched in a corner avoiding eye contact." Taliesin's attention turned to Vulpe's hair. "We need to talk about personal grooming. When was the last time you used a comb? Do you know how to use one?" As limited as Taliesin's ability to control his appearance had become, Taliesin was militant about his hair, his teeth, and, ideally, if anyone would have let him have any moisturiser, his skin. "We'll tackle flirting once we've tackled the basics."

[diesiirae]

Even though Taliesin didn't voice out his thoughts at first, Vulpe could sense it in the air. Lost cause. There wasn't much hope for him in a place like Krovs; it was a heavy blow, even for a punishment. His previous owners didn't care for that, of course. They wouldn't think of him for long, if they ever did. The money and the influence meant so, so much more. It was the worst case scenario for someone like Vulpe, but wallowing in it wouldn't do much.

He sighed, chuckling afterwards. — Well, yes. I never had to be good at seducing anyone, so I am not confident in it. — he shrugged. Vulpe didn't care particularly: sex oftentimes repulsed him, and most of the masters he'd faced in the castle didn't help his case. He didn't want to be desired by them, even though it meant safety. — No, they haven't. — he answered, finding the whole ordeal funnier than it was supposed to be.

He jumped back slightly at the touch, but otherwise let Taliesin manipulate his stance without complaint. — Are angels supposed to have good posture? — Vulpe half-joked, raising an eyebrow at the human. — Never heard of that before, but I believe you. — he straightened his back, feeling some relief in his bones at that. — Is this part of Seduction 101?

Taliesin tipped his head quizzically. How someone got to be many thousands of years old, especially having spent so long here, among people, without having the faintest understanding of flirtation was beyond him. Surely he should have picked something up just by osmosis at this point. It wouldn't be the first time Taliesin had advised, but it might have been the most challenging case. He paused for a moment, thinking.

"Confidence," Taliesin said, finally. "It's about confidence. You can tell just by looking at you that you're not, and the only people that are going to find that sexy are people with some... Specific interests. Especially if you're not a virgin." Taliesin supposed he understood a virginity kink. It wasn't for him, but all that shaking and nervousness had certainly pleased the man that took his.

"Has anyone ever told you that your posture is terrible for an angel?" Taliesin stood, crossed the distance between himself and Vulpe and started physically manipulating his stance until he stood the way he wanted. "That's going to put terrible pressure on your shoulders and a curve in your spine. And don't pull that angel nonsense on me, you've got the same spine that I have, more or less. It's very finicky."

[diesiirae]

Vulpe hadn't been at Krovs for long, but a distinction had already been made: he couldn't be all pleasant inside the castle, or he was bound to suffer. It was a game, to become undesirable in the eyes of those he wished to avoid, whilst remaining on the good graces of those who posed no threat to his well-being. It was exhausting, and ended badly, at times. Now was such an example of that: his face was wounded, blood still spilling from his mouth from time to time. He'd recover faster, if it wasn't for the goddamn collar around his neck. He paced in his cell like a trapped animal, frustration still rising to his throat.

His first reaction to hearing someone approaching was to go far back, hitting his back to the wall. Even though celestials weren't supposed to growl, Vulpe made a noise that could only be described as such. It subsided once he realized the man outside was merely another slave, a sigh escaping him instead. — I'd prefer if you stayed. — he replied, too quick. He didn't want to be alone. — I feel like I might lose it if I remain by myself for too long. — he explained, coughing up a bit of blood before sitting down.

Having lost track of how long it had been since he'd actually ventured down into the undercroft, Bradley decided to have a look to see if anyone down there needed or wanted anything, while also trying to avoid anyone unsavoury. For example, he knew that with the new slaves that had been brought in that Gareth's fledgling, Hunter, was bound to be on the prowl. He'd actively avoided him, but he knew others, including his roommate Finn, weren't so lucky.

Bradley made his way through the common rooms and towards the dormitory, keeping his eyes peeled for anyone that appeared at all distressed, or even just bored. Once he'd spotted someone, he offered them a smile, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "You alright? Tell me to fuck off if you want to be left alone."

@krovscastlestarters

[diesiirae]

Celestials weren't made to have sharp teeth but, when Vulpe smiled, his canines shined. — I suppose that makes two of us. — it wasn't a threat, for Seraphiel wasn't stupid. It was one statement that matched is languid body language. He looked up at the ceiling, restraining a sigh by biting down on his lip. — We don't really grow out of rage once we get used to it, do we? — his questioning was reticent, not demanding an answer. — I don't blame you for it. — Vulpe wasn't really about to die defending humans and their traditions, although researching them was always an infinite source of entertainment. It was his turn to raise an eyebrow, looking at Stigr like he had just said something funny. — Weren't you a silly human once? Or were you always immune to anything that requires belief?

He registered the hungry stare, even though it was brief. Seraphiel had learned vampire cues quickly after becoming a spoil of war, and his past owners were kind (kinder), but not sanctified. He was used to being fed from, which was why he refrained from covering his neck as his instincts commanded. — It's not really good to starve yourself off for too long. — he provided, avoiding to make a stronger point.

— Or perhaps you and I have different conceptions on honest compliments. — he conceded, shaking his head slightly afterwards. — Either way, mine is not a position that needs much wooing. — a scoff wasn't becoming but Seraphiel couldn't help it, at times. — The council does look like a handful. Very... rambunctious, to say the least. Is it that easy to become a councilman, nowadays? — he turned his attention to the shelves back again, almost as if he hadn't insulted the directing board of Krovs (and of everything else in the world). — Fair enough. I do the same, except I make myself undesirable in the eyes of the most troublesome masters. Works wonders.

Stigr rose one shoulder in a half shrug at the question. "For the most part, yes, it is enough. I'm afraid, however, that I've never been one to always enjoy peace for too long." When he'd been younger, the vampire had found little ways to cause a fraction more chaos in life, but he'd calmed down since. Besides, he had to be smart these days about how he caused problems around places like Krovs when he felt the need to, what with being a councilman. There was some expectation of restraint and dignity that came with the title, though god knew some of his colleagues had neither of those things.

He quirked an eyebrow at Vulpe, but the way that the vampire shook his head made it clear nothing was going to change his mind in regard to horoscopes and the way some people placed too much value on them. "I fail to see any real logic in it, personally. Though perhaps that is because I don't see it as anything other than a silly idea humans came up with." Stigr's gaze very briefly fell to the slave's neck when it was exposed, hunger sparking through the older man for just a second before he suppressed it. He'd have to handle that later with either blood wine or a slave, in the privacy of his own suite.

"I somehow doubt that I'm the first one to say it honestly, but I will have to take your word for it." Though it certainly wouldn't be surprising. Many masters saw no reason to genuinely compliment the slaves, knowing that they'd get what they wanted from them regardless of how they were treated. "I do, yes." One corner of Stigr's mouth raised in a faint smile. "Which is why I prefer to deal with the slaves who are less likely to cause me problems at the end of the day."

[diesiirae]

Seraphiel sighed, patting Charlie on the back. He understood his frustrations, as they mostly mirrored his own. The celestial would try to escape, eventually, but only after he drafted a decent plan. And that could take up to years. It was bad to fumble runaway trysts — the consequences weren't pretty, if you didn't have someone to fall back on. — Atta boy. — he muttered, somehow despondent. — That's for the best. I wouldn't want to lose you too soon. — at least, the dragon's company was a comfort. — I guess creating havoc while we still have to be here is still the second best option, though. — Vulpe tried to sound upbeat, not wanting to think much about the time they would remain inside Krovs. — Last man that rented me out got his face bitten off.

It was clear Charlie's feelings about the council were conflicting. Maybe not about the organization as a whole, but in regards to his current master, if the celestial could place any bets. He wasn't sure what was worse: to be owned and provided with a fleeting sense of comfort and safety, or to remain in his own current position, as a fill-in-the-gaps slave that could be chosen by any person with enough money to spend. Vulpe hummed in agreement at the thought expressed by his friend: he couldn't see many in such a bad light, but some days proved harder when it came to mercy to the sinners. — Some of them mask themselves well enough. You could almost believe they were people, I'd say. — and it wasn't a kind thing to say, but it was the truth.

— So cozy. — he reaffirmed, scoffing. — I'd only hate that place more if it hellfire in it. — it was now his honest remark about the Undercroft, a small shiver running up his spine. The darkness of it made it all worse for Vulpe, reminding him of long years he had forgotten. — Then, please, take me away. — he complied, following Charlie without missing a beat.

"Right now? Mostly because I've probably pissed 'em off enough already with escaping earlier. I should probably save any real attempts to destroy the castle until they forget about that." Charlie wasn't really sure how the masters would respond to someone setting fire around Krovs, though they probably wouldn't worry all that much. The witches they'd hired could easily put flames out and it wasn't as if stone burned. Unfortunately. Still, it was tempting to try it at least once -- some excitement since Charlie was pretty sure he was never going to be able to escape from Krovs again.

Charlie's feelings toward Raphael were...complicated, to say the least. He frequently said that he hated the man -- right to his face, too, on several occasions -- but he couldn't seem to stay away from the ghoul for too long. Then there was the jealous streak he seemed to harbor toward almost anyone that the councilman paid attention to for too long, something he knew amused the hell out of Raphael. "Yeah." Charlie made a face as he thought about the council, shaking his head. "They're all dicks, honestly, I don't think I've met one decent councilman here. Considering they're here, though, I guess that's not all that surprising." The dragon had a low opinion of anyone who voluntarily spent their time at the castle, even the staff who claimed to be sympathetic toward the slaves. Couldn't feel that much sympathy if they came to Krovs.

He started to laugh, shaking his head. "Cozy? Sure, that's what we'll call it." Charlie teased, smiling before he nodded. "Yeah, of course I could. Raphael's never complained about me taking someone out of the Undercroft before." The dragon shrugged and then gestured for Vulpe to follow him.

[diesiirae]

He kept on playing as the aswang made himself comfortable. Vulpe tried to make himself small, when he had the willpower to restrain his tongue: this was one of such occasions. Gareth, at least, didn't try to make it harder than it needed to be, as he seemed barely interested in the celestial's existence. — Precisely. — he answered back, humming in pleasure as he realized the instrument was finely tuned. — Such as...? — it was a question made out aloofness, his thoughts much more concerned with the sequence of notes he was currently playing. — There's not much to do around here. Everything bleeds out the same after a while. — at least, for Seraphiel, that's how he saw the castle. Boring. He smiled at the compliment, bowing his head slightly in the direction of the other creature. — I'm a bit rusty, but thank you.

"What, learn the piano?" Gareth asked, dropping down onto one of the couches in the room, reaching out to pointlessly pluck at one of the harps sat there. The aswang personally thought this kind of shit was pointless in a sex slave castle -- who wanted to just sit around and play some kind of instrument when all that temptation was around -- but to each their own. "Nope, never had any interest. I've got better things to do with my time." Gareth eyed the Celestial in silence for just a second. "You're not bad."

[diesiirae]

— You don't really need to get physical to fight. — Vulpe replied, knowing there wasn't much of a point to make to Taeliesin. The war had ended, and the spoils were enough proof that daring to defy those who were stronger was not a smart move. Who could blame slaves for acting their part and hoping for the best? Sometimes, even Vulpe succumbed to such tactics. Resisting was hard, and it required constant effort and a high tolerance for pain.

The celestial chuckled, agreeing with a move of his head. It was the way that had worked for plenty of others. — If you make yourself the favorite of any of them, even better. — he pointed out, reminding himself of Charlie. The question presented Seraphiel with some whiplash. It wasn't as if he hadn't done it before: he managed to get in some vampires' good graces in different scenarios, mostly with an exchange of blood. Of course, it wasn't enough. — I have tried it before Krovs. — he supplied, biting down on his lip. — However, when it comes to the whole sex castle aspect, it's a bit out of my depth. I don't really know how to... seduce someone.

He sat down somewhere, looking towards the human with a little smile. — It is really not a question of purity as you ought to be thinking right now. — it was somehow easy to predict Taeliesin's logical pathways. — I simply do not know how to entice another. I've tried before. The only times it worked were the times I was lucky enough to find a vampire that had a type.

"I'm not a fighter," Taliesin laughed. "I mean look at me. I'm far too pretty for that." His fingernails were manicured, for God's sake. Taliesin had never held a serious weapon in his life, even if he had done fencing and played cricket. He'd never even been in a fistfight. The kind of sparring matches he got into were exclusively verbal, maybe with a slap or a thrown drink for dramatic effect.

He hummed, thoughtfully. "No, I suppose I'll have to fuck my way out of this one." His gaze flickered to the guards, the door beyond, longingly. He was used to coming and going as he pleased, doing precisely what he wanted without even money being an issue. "Seems like it's the only way out. Have you not considered it?"

Angels. Weren't they supposed to be all virtuous and virginal? Taliesin could hardly think Vulpe was, with how long he'd been here. He must have been thoroughly defiled already. "You ought to pick a target and work your way into their affections. It seems like it would spare you most of the suffering."

[diesiirae]

Although it wasn’t a logical sequitur, the occasion made him face a thought not very frequent: mortality, or the lack thereof. There was really no escape for Vulpe — bound as he was, there was no return to Heaven. And, although weak, he was nowhere near death. There was very little he could do but scratch away at the feeling of restriction. Sometimes, he wondered if he could just free his wings, if he tried hard enough.

Taliesin’s voice dragged him back to reality. — I can understand that position, although… Humans are clever enough. It is not interesting for you to fight, but you definitely could. — then again, Vulpe was partial to the potential of humans. Blame his celestial nature and tender heart: he wanted to see those creatures succeeding. It was just a pity the easiest way to do so was pledging allegiance to the vampires.

The apology was unexpected, and Vulpe just offered another smile. — There is no need to. — he assured, a slight movement of the hand indicating he took no harm to the words exchanged. — I don’t think we ever get used to it. — it wasn’t a very comforting affirmation, but it was a truth Vulpe could offer. — I’ve been in this position for so long, and I am just as frustrated as you are. — Vulpe should probably be the one to give an apology, since he could barely extend some grace to another. — And row we shall!

Taliesin shared a look of sympathy with Vulpe. At least the collar thing he could empathise with, however strange and obscure the rest of Vulpe's existence seemed to him. The collar rode up sometimes, making the mark from where Roland had bitten him itch. It wasn't the first time Taliesin had worn one, but he'd always had the ability to take it off before, if it became too restrictive.

"Humans are just passengers these days. It's not like we've posed any real threat since the first war." That Taliesin had learned about in school. In most places, they taught humans to keep their heads down and avoid the supernaturals, especially vampires, but when you were being groomed for elite roles, they were less instructive about that. How did any human become powerful, except by making deals with the more powerful.

"I'm sorry. I suppose I'm a little testy. I'm not used to being so restricted." Vulpe was perfectly nice, even if Taliesin thought him esoteric and difficult. "We're in the same boat. We might as well row together."

[diesiirae]

— Ah. I've never been there, I'm afraid. I wish to, someday. — it was perhaps foolish to hope for anything, but celestials weren't ones to lose their naivete so easily. The advice from the Enforcer was honest, and Vulpe was thankful. However, he couldn't help but smile, shaking his head. — I haven't been happy in a very long time, I'm afraid. Those are my shackles, and I bear them well enough. — was his reply, steps slowing down to a halt. Vulpe felt his lips tighten, but followed Yuta down the many hallways of the castle.

He only felt lighter once they reached the kennels. Dogs seemed to have an instant liking to Seraphiel, approaching him with curious sniffs. The celestial was quick to sit down to pet them, rubbing their ears fondly. — Not much of an animal person? — he asked, turning to face Yuta for a brief moment. — I've trained dogs for my previous owners. I just... enjoy their company, I suppose. It's the only thing on Earth close to God's love.

"I spent the majority of my years in East Asia, specifically Japan." Yuta tells him as they walk through the halls of the castle. The enforcer felt the others eyes on him but it didn't faze him. "Word of advice even though I haven't been here very long. If you want to survive in this castle, you need to find something that keeps you sane. Whether that's working out, or playing with the dogs in the kennels, find something that makes you happy here."

"Of course." Yuta smiled and led the other down the narrow hallways of the castle towards the kennels, pushing the door open and holds it open for the slave before letting it close behind them. "I haven't been here either so this is new, though I've heard that some of the slaves like to come down here, that seeing the puppies makes them feel calm." The enforcer shrugged as he propped himself up on one of the tables with his feet dangling off the edge.

[diesiirae]

The human didn't seem much inclined to accept either information or kindness, therefore Vulpe went back to his shell. He took in deep breaths, finding some sort of courage before he had to go back to the Undercroft. Some days were harder than others, especially when one had been taking punishment for as long as Vulpe had. He smiled back at Taeliesin, folding his own cards back to his sleeve. — No, I guess not. — he tugged back at his collar, scratching the patch of skin underneath, mirroring the actions of the human. — Ah, hellfire was better than this. — he muttered, more to himself than to Taeliesin.

— When they feed on celestial blood, they can use divine magic. It's not as useful as it was during the war, but, alas... Some of them still seek me out for these reasons. — Vulpe explained briefly, grateful that his clothes were able to cover the amount of bite marks on his upper torso. — I suppose you're a spoil of your own kind. — he replied after little consideration. — Our presence in this castle, though, can certainly be traced back to the war. A pity you should wind up here, when this was never your fight, to begin with. I guess fairness is not to be expected of this realm.

At the word angel, Taliesin scoffed. As much as the religion put him off, it wasn't just that part he found difficult to swallow. Absolute morality was another sticking point, the idea that anything or anyone could be wholly good or bad. Taliesin's family had always existed in a grey area, no matter how kind, how protective, his brother Soren was or how cold and calculating his mother. It didn't tally in his head that angels could possibly be what mythology said they were.

"Forgive me, I don't think you could be of any earthly use to me." He eyed Vulpe's collar, ran his thumb over his own. As a human, he supposed his was purely decorative, designed to signal that he was not his own person. Not anymore. "Is it?" The idea of being sold around was nauseating, more nauseating somehow than the idea of being rented. It was fascinating what cognitive dissonance Taliesin could hold in his own head.

He knew a little about the war, from what he'd been taught at school. For a moment he looked at Vulpe sympathetically, and then his mouth curled into a sneer. "In a round about way, we're all the spoils of war. You're just more directly."

[diesiirae]

The presence of vampires at the castle shouldn't be a surprise, but Vulpe was just starting to discover how daunting it was to be so completely surrounded by them. He hadn't felt this caged up since he was first captured in the war, a couple hundreds of vampires using his blood as fuel to destroy the remainders of the opposing army. He sighed at the dismissal, sitting down once more. He shuffled in between the keys, tune agitated. — And don't you desire to? — he questioned, out of pure curiosity.

Gareth wasn't really sure what in the hell had made him walk into the music room. The aswang had never really been any sort of artistically inclined, so he usually avoided this room whenever he was walking around the castle. He had to admit, though, that whoever was currently playing the piano wasn't too bad. Gareth had just stepped into the room when the man who had been sitting at the bench -- a slave, going off the collar around his throat -- stood up and inclined his head. The master quirked an eyebrow at him and then dismissively waved his hand at the question.

"You can stay there as long as you like, far as I'm concerned." Gareth replied as he stepped further into the room, sweeping a bored gaze over the numerous instruments there. "I've never touched a piano in my life."

[diesiirae]

Considering the past hundreds of years, Vulpe had become quite accustomed to following orders quickly. It was the most useful survival mechanism an enslaved Celestial could develop, and he got around it fast enough. Therefore, once the other man told him to sit down, Seraphiel did so. — Any musical preferences? — he asked, looking over to the other man. — Fair warning, my repertoire is mostly a romantic one. — perhaps it was predictable, but Vulpe did tend to enjoy slow waltzes and the like. — I'd say so, yes. If you may excuse my poor time awareness, I suppose it has barely been a month since I've arrived...

Somewhere that was usually quiet and peaceful within the castle was the music room; it was a place Tiernan visited often despite having his own piano in his suite. What he hadn't anticipated upon arrival was seeing someone else enjoying the soothing sounds of the instrument. He smirked softly as the other got his feet, Tiernan gesturing for the stranger to sit back down.

"Please, continue. I like to listen," Tiernan responded, his Irish accent soft but noticeable. The councilman took a seat on one of the sofas closest to the piano, watching the other man. "Are you new here? I don't believe I've seen your face before."

[diesiirae]

Vulpe interpreted his silence as a negative. He looked over to Taliesin, and, although no inquiries were made, opted to offer an explanation. — I suppose the term “angel” is more commonly used. — he leaned against the window with a controlled sigh, as if the mere mention of his species made the locked down magic inside of him tremble. Vulpe was good at obeying, but the desire to free himself of Krovs’ collars was one that clawed at him constantly.

The human's story carried a lot of weight; the betrayal was felt strongly in his words. Vulpe understood why. — Your own family put you here. — it was an echo, as if Seraphiel was trying to grasp such actions. Vampires could be ruthless, but humans weren’t that far behind, it seemed. — I am very sorry to hear it. We are in the same position… However, if there is any way I can help you, consider this an offering. — even if the celestial’s actions were stiff, he was honest in a way few creatures could compare. — I have been a slave since the last war ended. — since Taeliesin had explained his past, Vulpe thought it was only fair to repay it in likeness. — I fought against the vampires, and I've been sold around a couple of times since I was first captured. Celestial blood is quite useful for them, you see...

Honestly, no. Taliesin did not have a rolodex of magical creatures to flip through, not even an internal one voiced by David Attenborough. He'd known some children that were obsessed with the categorisation of the supernatural at school, up there with space and dinosaurs. Taliesin had always had different tastes. He'd heard the word Celestial before, knew it was rare, but it held very little meaning to him. If he were to take Vulpe as an example, he now knew that they were strange, stiff creatures.

"Well, I got here because my father was embroiled in a corruption scandal, and this is how he chose to get out of it." Taliesin hadn't spoken, at all, really, about his family to another slave. Every time he thought about it, his insides felt like they were boiling. "He gives up his son and gets out of the consequences. So my story is very short, but very unpleasant."

[diesiirae]

Although Vulpe himself was a creation from God, as a youngling he had been entirely unaware of Earth's religious practices. He’d learned about those in due time, as he integrated himself in the society he was forbidden of participating in. He let a huff of laughter out, brief as it was. — So it is. — after everything he went through, however, he understood the other man’s stance perfectly. Religion was hard to stomach when one had been through hell. — Although… I do think faith and religion are not mutually exclusive. I dare say they almost never have anything to do with one another. The flow of questions that certainly had nothing to do with literature were quite surprising, but they didn’t catch Vulpe off-guard. Hardly anything ever did, anyway. Perhaps, it was a consequence of living for too long. The Celestial stared into Taliesin’s eyes from where he was standing, subtle smile carving itself out in his mouth. — I am no human, no. — he agreed, pacing towards the window to soak in the remains of sunlight. — I suppose your knowledgeable enough to be aware of the existence of Celestials? — in the castle, the presence of his own species seemed sparse. Most had probably already returned to the heavens, is what Vulpe guessed. He didn’t like to think about how many turned into something darker. — As of how I got here, it’s a very long story, and not a very nice one. I’m not quite sure you’d enjoy it.

"I've always found religion a little difficult to stomach... Especially Christianity." Taliesin himself was proudly and loudly agnostic. His parents were Hindu, at least as far as paperwork went. The only member of his family he'd ever seen doing anything that could be described as practicing was his Grandmother, the shrine to Ganesha she had up in a corner of the house that rarely saw guests. Whilst his parents didn't much care to actually practice, they were always keen to disparage the "wrong" religions, with Christianity a particular favourite. They'd had Taliesin and his brother sit out of all the services enforced on the children at boarding school. "I suppose it's just not my background."

He eyed Vulpe, wondering. Vulpe was a slave like himself, he supposed. There were no consequences he could enact if Taliesin touched a nerve. "Do pardon me for asking, but what exactly is your deal? I'm pretty confident that you're not human. What are you? How did you get here?"