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mermaidmafia-official · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER IV — PART II.

GOLDEN-GLEAMING, HONEY-BURNING

Nessa’s bar was haloed in bronze and copper, warm like gold gloaming and setting sun. Against Alejandro’s better judgment, he had let Elias talk him into visiting the place (even though Elias was a fucking Wolf, and for all that the bar catered to humans, it was still vampire-owned), so here the three of them were. Elias had a leather jacket wrapped around his hulking frame, a few long strands of his black hair escaping from his ponytail; he fit right in with the (primarily) mortal patrons.

Alejandro, on the other hand, was quite a bit out of place. The mortals in the bar were edgy and rough-hewn - the punk rock seafarers of the modern age - and Alejandro was, in his eternal wisdom, dressed in a pale blue cashmere coat.

“Are you two dating?” one of the humans asked Elias, his breath stung through with alcohol. He bellowed out a laugh, holding up his hands, “I mean, no problem if you are, of course. I was just curious.”

Elias’s gleaming turquoise eyes widened momentarily, then he flashed the middle-aged human a wide grin. “No, I’m afraid I’m not his type.”

Alejandro found himself tilting his head back and laughing with the mortal, feeling freer than he had in a long while. Back at home, so much of his time in the penthouse was taken up with making sure Anastasiy drank his blood - and it wasn’t as if Elias could just walk into any old underworld bar in Los Santos either, being the loner Wolf in vampire territory that he was.

“He thinks he’s too good for me, but I’m determined to convince him otherwise,” Alejandro answered, a playful lilt to his voice as he settled in against the sturdy oak bar, the dark wood shining with polish and glazed over with the smell of liquor.

“Oh, what is this now - I think I’m too good for you? No, no: you think you’re too good for me.”

Alejandro grinned at the Wolf’s vehement protests, flicking Elias’ hand in response. “Have you met Chris, by the way?” he said, smiling at the djinn sitting beside him. “He came with Mai and I to meet with Granny Zhang about the hunters today. Speaking of which: what the fuck were you thinking? The vampire who organized the race is with the Bloodmother! Who knows what could have happened to you, had you been found out?”

Elias’ brow was furrowed in bewilderment. “What’s the big deal, I thought this was a neutral thing - wait, what?!”

Alejandro shook his head, letting out a frustrated breath. “Nessa Lynch. The vampire who put on the whole race, and who owns this bar, for that matter. She’s a part of House Vavassour - the Bloodmother’s Coven!”

Elias’ eyebrows shot up. He reached for his drink and took a sip, the whiskey clinking softly with ice as prisms of molten amber looked out from behind the glass. In the embered glow of Nessa’s bar, the jagged scars gashing across Elias’ face seemed to melt away into his honey-burnt skin, and Alejandro’s chest ached with something that felt all too much like-

-well. Nevermind that.

LIKE BLOOD FOR ROSES. {au}

Like blood for roses; like roses for saints.

{A loose Ayzfan expanded universe premise. Deviating slightly from our usual ~thing~ but still hehehe :D}

—

Underworlders have flocked to Los Santos like a murder of crows, embedding themselves deep within the flashing neon veins and smog-choked lungs of the city.

But still-

-the Wolves are a problem.

—

The vampire lords that have run of the downtown high-rises and sprawling freeways know all about the recent attacks, of course. Special Packs have decimated dozens of smaller Covens, picking them off one by one when the moon is high and the night is dark. The Wolves appear out of nowhere and melt back into the shadows as soon as the job is done, leaving nothing behind but ash and dust; the memory of terror.

Things are different in Los Santos, though. The local Wolf pack has nothing on the numbers of the vampires, not to mention their assorted underworld allies. Even with Hunters thrown into the mix, the Wolves wouldn’t stand half a chance of emerging at all.

So, understandably, Los Santos has become overrun.

—

Lord Niklas and Lady Mai run a tight ship. Yet even they are struggling to manage the influx of newcomers, and all the problems that they bring: irresponsible sires, illegally-enthralled mortals (kept ‘beneath the roses’, to echo one of their particularly ruthless allies), and, inevitably, questions to their own authority.

There are no gods here, nor are there saints. In Los Santos, ley lines are drawn in blood, and Niklas König did not become the reigning lord over both his House and the city without a bit of his own ruthlessness. He will stop at nothing to keep his position as the king of the underworld. Still-

-the Wolves are coming.

#like blood for roses #btr

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mermaidmafia-official · 3 years

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CHAPTER IV — PART I.

LIKE GLASS FOR FLAME

NESSA has organised an underworld street race three towns over in Bay Haven, and the attendance should be in the hundreds despite the snowy weather (Vampires don’t feel the cold anyway). The bay is completely frozen over- and Nessa apparently feels that the track needs something slightly more unforgivable than tight turns on slippery asphalt, so a portion of the motorbike race goes straight across the ice. Mortals are apparently allowed to participate, so the crowd might be witnessing some legitimately lethal racing this time round.

The race track was a twist of sharp turns and slippery asphalt that swerved in and out of the nighttime traffic, with a long, straight stretch of track skidded directly over the frozen bay. It looked - quite frankly - suicidal. Still: the chilled air was rumbling with the sound of revving engines, strung taut with the roar of adrenaline and anticipation.

Alejandro sighed, leaning back in his seat. Headlights cut blinding beams of white into the night, ricocheting off the surface of the bay as if it were a silvered mirror of glass and snow sheened across the ice-dark waters. It was cold, and although the frigid temperatures did nothing to vampires, Alejandro was nonetheless dressed in a warm cashmere coat of bright summer sky, his long blond hair tied back in a low ponytail. There were mortals in attendance.

Mai had portaled them into Bay Haven just as the sun shivered below the horizon, drowning the city in shudders of shadow. Zhang had been waiting for them, a gown of midnight-twirled satin draped over her bony frame. The miniature glasses she wore looked to be made out of antique burial coins, with the busts of long-dead sovereigns and the sigils of their crumbled empires etched into the soft silver. Underneath the wide brim of the hat perched atop her head, Zhang’s glassy ruby eye glared out at Alejandro like the crimson-flamed iris of some ancient, wrathful god, scorched over in blood and vengeance.

Now, though, they were simply waiting for the race to start. Alejandro cast a glance around their assembled group - Zhang and Mai were sitting together, murmuring to each other in some long-dead Liangii dialect. The woollen capelet resting across Mai’s shoulders shimmered darkly in the midnight gloom, sweet and berry-red like Alejandro’s favorite vintage wine.

Chris’ earth-brown eyes were calm and steady as he surveyed the race track, and Alejandro leaned in to whisper: “How do you suppose Zhang can see from behind those coin glasses of hers? I mean, they’re literally blocking half her vision, and she only even has one eye to begin with.”

Chris snorted, amusement flickering over his features. “Don’t ask me,” the djinn answered, shrugging carelessly. The two of them watched as Zhang looked up, then cast a disapproving look in Rafael’s direction - evidently, she recognized the vampire-sorcerer who controlled Chris as the mouthy troublemaker at Gen’s induction ball.

Alejandro caught bits and pieces of Mai’s conversation with the one-eyed vampire, though it was hard to hear much over the wind thrashing in from the bay. The ancient dialect they were using was rougher and harsher than the modern form of Liangii that Alejandro was most familiar with, the soft vowel sounds transformed into something more guttural, more nasal.

Mai doesn’t want Rafael to know what they’re saying, Alejandro realized. Chris understands Mandarin, and if Rafael ordered it, Chris would have to translate every single word coming out of their mouths.

“I think the race’s starting,” Alejandro said, casting clear blue eyes over the track. “It all seems so messy, no?”

At the front of the cluster of motorbikes, Nessa Lynch - dark-haired and bright-eyed and grinning, fangs flashing in the floodlights - was beckoning for the tattooed henchmen (was that what they were? Henchmen? Alejandro wasn’t sure, at this point) to let someone through.

The icy wind howled toward them, and with it came the scent of-

Alejandro’s blood ran cold. Is that a Wolf?!

*****

“What the hell!”

Yinmei Zhang had shot straight into the air, her long skirts frothing like an ocean of satin and shadow, the trailing fabric of her gown agitated by the screaming winds. “You have got to be fucking kidding me! Did she just let a Wolf into the race?!”

“I think she declared it a...neutral zone?” Alejandro put in helpfully, after he’d gotten past his own shock. At the starting line, the rumbling hum of the bikes had crescendoed into an all-encompassing roar, and the snow-tinged scent of the Wolf had been drowned out by the bitter-sharp tang of motor oil and exhaust - like a stinging smother of smoke curling over Alejandro’s tongue and choking into his nostrils.

“That girl has no brain,” Zhang fumed, sitting back down. “I blame it on her age. These days, newly-Turned vampires don’t have the chance to get the brutally-slaughtering-every-person-in-sight phase of their systems. Instead they do things like host motorbike races and fraternize with Wolves, apparently.”

Alejandro would have smiled at the image - the dainty Yinmei Zhang with her porcelain complexion and fine, doll-like features grousing about ‘the youngsters’ like an ornery old lady - if it had not been for what she actually said.

“Has Nessa not been with you and the Bloodmother for very long, then?” Mai asked gently, a soft laugh coloring her voice.

Zhang waved a hand, dismissive. “It’s been a century or two. Really, I don’t understand how you and your husband can put up with all of this. Especially with people like him around,” she said, punctuating her words with a piercing glare in Rafael’s direction, her scarlet eye glowering accusingly at the other vampire.

Alejandro stifled a giggle, and Chris was openly smirking. Alejandro was just about to say something to smooth over Rafael’s bruised ego when another flash of Wolf caught his attention.

What in the stars… Alejandro’s gaze jumped to the starting line, and he barely had the chance to register the sea-glass glint of Elias’ startled eyes before the swarm of motorbikes screeched away in a shriek of burning rubber, leaving behind nothing but wisps of flame-stung exhaust and skids of ice shattering over the asphalt like glass.

LIKE BLOOD FOR ROSES. {au}

Like blood for roses; like roses for saints.

{A loose Ayzfan expanded universe premise. Deviating slightly from our usual ~thing~ but still hehehe :D}

—

Underworlders have flocked to Los Santos like a murder of crows, embedding themselves deep within the flashing neon veins and smog-choked lungs of the city.

But still-

-the Wolves are a problem.

—

So, understandably, Los Santos has become overrun.

—

-the Wolves are coming.

#like blood for roses #btr

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mermaidmafia-official · 3 years

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CHAPTER III.

LIKE TEARS FOR GLASS

The human, as it turned out, was just as attached to Angelika.

“Where is Mistress?” Anastasiy asked endlessly, his voice a thin, reedy tremor of need and agony. “I...I need her. I need Mistress. When can I go back?”

And every time, Alejandro forced himself to keep his gentle expression fixed firmly on his face, the muscles of his mouth and cheeks locked rigidly into place - as if he were a perpetually-smiling statue carved out of unyielding stone.

“You can go back when you’re better,” Alejandro would murmur. “The Bloodmother had you come with me so we could try to cure you,” he would lie. “Your blood was hurting Angelika. I promise we'll do our best to make it go away.”

It was hard, so hard, to hear him beg. “But I...I need...I need Mistress...who will feed her?” Anastasiy would say, pleading and miserable as his dark curls tumbled into his face, fingers shaking as he clutched at the blankets. “She does not like blood from the others. She likes it from me!”

There was a fragile shine to his eyes, like trembles of glass, and Alejandro was much too soft-hearted to tell him the truth. Anastasiy’s tears weathered at him like he was a rock in a stream, until Alejandro could feel his own resolve crumbling, his stone-carved smiles and soothing reassurances dissolving to silt and washing away with the relentless current of Anastasiy’s desperation. Nothing Alejandro said seemed to make him feel any better, and he was sure that Gen could hear the mortal crying, too.

“Do you think I should start giving him my blood to drink?” Alejandro asked Mai when she came by to check up on Anastasiy.

Mai nodded slowly, shutting the door behind her. “Try for a cup every day, for now,” she told him. “Without the second part of the enthrallment ritual, your blood should only make him a bit woozy.”

“I can do that,” Alejandro replied. “Thank you for taking a look. Do you have any idea what’s wrong with him?”

Mai pursed her lips, a small frown working its way between her meticulously plucked eyebrows. “It’s rare,” she said, finally, “but some humans react badly to imbibing vampire blood, and it can have some...unwanted side effects. I’m not sure how much I can do without a more detailed examination, and some information from Angelika herself.”

Alejandro winced slightly. “Let’s wait on that if we can,” he responded. “I don’t know how well he’d react to something more intrusive.”

After Mai left, Alejandro went to find Gen. He quickly explained what Mai told him, then asked: “Do you think you could help me with this? Is there anything you know that could make this easier on him?”

Gen bit her lip, a thoughtful expression alighting over her features. “There is some power in taking it straight from the vein,” she mused out loud. “And there’s...a general vitality ritual that witches use. It's usually blood to blood - living blood - but I might be able to make some alterations.”

Alejandro beamed at her, smiling gratefully as they made their way to the kitchen. “I'll do whatever you think best - you know more about this than I do.”

A small, uneasy smile twisted over his fledgling’s face. “Barely. I'm a kitchen witch. You're five hundred years old,” she said, her voice scratchy. “I’d say we’re both a little out of our depth.”

Gen went to go brew some tea for the human, while Alejandro busied himself with the blood he had in the fridge. The kitchen was done up in earthy green wallpaper, the cabinets a blushing mahogany; in the soft warm glow puddling downward from Alejandro’s favorite set of art deco light fixtures, his fledgling’s bright hair was haloed in a shimmer of scarlet and starfire.

Gen waited for Alejandro to drink his fill, and when he was done, he smiled gently at her, encouraging. “I’m ready when you are,” he said. Gen gave him a hesitant nod, and Alejandro reached for his dagger.

Alejandro sliced into the vein of his left wrist, the silvered blade flashing under the light and sending steel-plated moonbeams spinning into the air with the motion. Blood began spilling out from the cut, and Alejandro could do nothing but hold the wound open and watch as Gen gripped his arm and began murmuring what he assumed were the appropriate ritual phrases.

Lifeblood to lifeblood. The words drifted into the quiet penthouse like wafts of smoke, wisps of soot prickling with something heavier, something more dangerous: wind and ash and gravity, and the first sting of flame.

When the cup was full, Alejandro waited until the cut healed over before standing up. “I’ll go try to get him to drink this right now,” he said to Gen, offering her a faint smile. “Hopefully, there shouldn’t be any problems.”

Hopefully.

****

“No!” Anastasiy cried out, pushing away from the table. “I want Mistress!”

Alejandro grit his teeth, the smile still plastered over his face. He was not an impatient person by nature - far from it - but this was the tenth time in two days that Anastasiy had refused to drink his blood, and his nerves were starting to fray.

“You won’t get better without it,” Alejandro said as soothingly as he could. “And you can go back to Mistress when you’re better, remember?”

His gut churned as Anastasiy finally seemed to consider listening to him, the taste of blood and bile burning at the back of his throat and mingling with the rot-sweet smell of Anastasiy’s blood. Alejandro knew how enthrallment worked, of course, but it still crushed his un-beating heart to see this human so wholly devoted to the vampire who had enslaved his mind.

When Alejandro finally coaxed Anastasiy into drinking his blood, he made sure that the human drank it all before leaving him to rest.

His relief was short-lived, however. As soon as he set foot outside the guest room he’d given to Anastasiy, the sound of Gen’s panicked voice was floating across the corridor.

“But I'm a witch...and I always get upset when you leave, so you stay, and what if I'm making you stay-”

Fuck. All of Anastasiy’s previous outbursts had been while Gen was in the kitchen or living room, but Alejandro had forgotten that he’d left her with Elias in the upstairs loft. With her vampiric hearing, there was no question as to if she’d overheard Anastasiy’s anguished cries.

“That doesn’t change a damn thing, child,” the Wolf replied. “You haven’t enthralled me. You can’t. You can only enthrall mortals. Look, do I need to get Alejandro in here to explain how it works? I’m not a vampire, so I don’t know the specifics, but Alejandro’s sire taught him. He’d never do it himself, but he can explain.”

Alejandro poked his head up into the loft, concern etched all over his face as he found Gen and Elias amidst the piles of time-worn books and yellowing photographs crowded around the space like an unruly swarm of paper skyscrapers. Gen was sinking into the embroidered cushions of one of Alejandro’s antique sofas, small and pale against the curving walnut frame and plush green velvet. The rich fabric was the color of soft moss and blooming spring grass, and in that moment, Gen was a porcelain doll trembling precariously between solid ground and the shatter of freefall.

“Alejandro's not a witch; maybe it's different,” she whispered, her pupils blown wide as a tremor shivered its way across her hands, and Alejandro hurried over to comfort her.

“Gen,” Alejandro said gently, stroking her hair as her shoulders shuddered against him. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”

“There’s a whole process,” Elias agreed, his rumbling voice low and reassuring, calm as still water. “It's not as simple as just drinking from the source.”

“Listen to Elias,” Alejandro murmured, “there’s an entire ritual that goes along with it. And the human would have to drink the vampire’s blood, not the other way around. Even if Elias were mortal, you still wouldn’t have done anything to him.”

Gen was gasping at nothing, her chest heaving with pent-up sobs, but Alejandro’s words seemed to calm her down “Can you get Mai to check him?” she bit out a minute later, still sounding on the verge of tears. “Just to - just to make sure?”

“Of course I can,” Alejandro reassured her. “Elias, what’s your schedule look like?”

The Wolf shrugged. “You know me. As long as it’s not a full moon.”

A smile ghosted across Alejandro’s face. “Alright,” he said, reaching for his phone. “I’ll see what Mai says.”

Thank god for WhatsApp, Alejandro thought as he tapped out a message, and almost instantly received a reply. I don’t know where the hell I would be without it.

this entire crossover has been like-

LIKE BLOOD FOR ROSES. {au}

Like blood for roses; like roses for saints.

{A loose Ayzfan expanded universe premise. Deviating slightly from our usual ~thing~ but still hehehe :D}

—

Underworlders have flocked to Los Santos like a murder of crows, embedding themselves deep within the flashing neon veins and smog-choked lungs of the city.

But still-

-the Wolves are a problem.

—

So, understandably, Los Santos has become overrun.

—

-the Wolves are coming.

#btr #like blood for roses #i had to make up some magic lore/alter a lil from the og i hope u dont mind!! <3

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mermaidmafia-official · 3 years

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CHAPTER II.

LIKE ROSES FOR TEARS

Alejandro was escorting Genevieve in the direction of the refreshments table some time later when he ran into the one-eyed Granny Zhang again.

“...and Ysa thinks Angelika’s having such trouble with feeding because of the ballerina - Dorcas put him beneath the roses for Angelika’s birthday a few years ago, didn’t she? - but Angelika’s quite attached to him, I’m afraid.”

Zhang’s companion was a slip of a girl with hair like gossamer and spider-silk, a thick metal collar around her throat. Gen cast a furtive glance in the blonde vampire’s direction, and Alejandro leaned in closer to whisper in her ear.

“I think that’s Cyborée Doillac,” he breathed. “She’s one of those who - well. Her head is detached from her body, but since it happened after she was Turned, she’s still with us.”

Gen seemed surprised - and horrified. “Does that sort of thing happen often?” she murmured in reply, and Alejandro shook his head, a faint smile dipping across his lips.

“No,” he answered, “not at all. Most people who are strong enough to kill a vampire don’t usually forget to burn the remains.”

A handful of rose petals drifted down from the garland draped across the wall above them, as softly as the drip, drip, drip of tears marbled crimson with blood. A few of them glided through the air to land on Gen’s gown, and Alejandro watched his fledgling pick one up off the midnight-shining silk and turn it over in her fingers as Cyborée answered Granny Zhang.

“He was ill the last time I visited, and Angelika was simply beside herself. Do you think that his blood is making her sick, too?”

Zhang shrugged languidly, her loose, dark hair rippling in a gleaming sea of ink and shadow with the movement. “I don’t think there’s any doubt about it,” she said. “Ysa won’t wrestle him away from her outright, but I think we should just kill him and be done with it. If his blood has truly taken so badly to Dorcas’ potion, we can’t even give his corpse to Amare. It will be far less messy for everyone involved if we don’t drag this out.”

Gen’s ocean-blue eyes were wide and afraid in the cutting glow of the chandeliers hanging overhead. Alejandro’s chest tightened, and he clutched at her pale hands, squeezing them reassuringly. “I’ll take care of it,” he whispered, as loudly as he dared. “Go find Anton?” And he tilted his head toward where the warlock was perched atop a plush velvet armchair, tapping at his phone.

Gen nodded jerkily, and Alejandro ascertained that she made it unaccosted across the short distance before he turned back to the vampires of House Vavassour. Their backs were to him, elegant lines of velvet and satin, with the long strands of pearls trailing behind Zhang’s gown coming together in arcing slivers of ricocheting moonlight.

Alejandro drew in a breath. Luckily, Zhang and Cyborée were still on the subject of the mortal ballerina; hopefully, they would believe him when he said that he could take care of their problem for them.

Because for all that he had to play nice with the Bloodmother and her Coven, something about enthralling mortals had always tangled Alejandro’s gut into twisting knots of acid-clawed bile and copper-burnt nausea. He couldn’t do much for this nameless human, but goddammit - he was going to try.

*****

“You want me to come over now, of all times?” Elias’ voice was an exasperated huff over the phone. Midnight had been moonlit and silver-gleaming, but now that the sun was rising, the horizon was bleeding through with the glint of old gold and steely indigo.

“I’m sorry,” Alejandro said, “I know it’s a last minute notice. But I don’t want to leave Gen alone.” A beat of silence passed between them, “it’s an emergency.”

Elias hummed, a soft rumble of thunder growling over leaden skies. “Fine, but you better have lots of food and some wolfsbane handy for when I get there, or I'll seriously consider eating your leg.”

Alejandro breathed out a laugh, relieved. He knew that full moon nights were very taxing, even for Wolves as old as Elias; if Rafael hadn’t been in town, he wouldn’t have considered calling the Wolf in the first place. “Thank you for agreeing to this,” he answered, fiddling with his rose-dagger ring. “I’ll order you something - what do you want?”

“I don't care, Alejandro. Just make it food, make it warm, and make there be a lot of it.”

Alejandro laughed again. “Can do,” he said. “I’ll wait for you in the parking garage.”

Once Alejandro had left Gen with Elias, Alejandro made his way back to the ballroom. Now that the party was over, the crystalline chandeliers had been shut off, and Mai had done him the favor of drawing the curtains shut and taking down the rose garlands strewn across the walls with a handy little spell.

The queen of Los Santos’ underworld was waiting for Alejandro in the foyer. In the trickling light of the razor-edged dawn, Mai’s eyes were pitch-dark; the space between the stars. Her irises were drowned in deep rivers of shadow as she reached for her power and twisted them across the abyss of space and time to land - quite suddenly - in the gardens of Bilitis House.

Alejandro breathed in the crisp air, fresh and dark with earth and rain: a welcome change from the smog-hazed mornings of the city. “Well. We’re here now, I guess,” he mused, searching their surroundings for the other vampires.

“They must still be fetching the mortal,” Mai answered, following Alejandro’s gaze. “How did you get them to agree to this in the first place?”

Alejandro glanced up at the stately country villa. Although it looked to be in fairly good condition, there were still a few telltale tendrils of lush foliage tangling up into the back wall, as if the surrounding forest were clinging stubbornly at the edges of the structure, refusing to let the house slip from its wood-snarled clutches just yet.

He cleared his throat, turning back to Mai. “I overheard Zhang and one of the others at the ball,” he said, lifting a shoulder up in a nonchalant half-shrug. “I told them that I could...save them the trouble. Of killing him. And that you could try to see what was wrong with him, in case it was something that could spread to other vampires.” He gave Mai a sheepish smile, “You don’t have to actually do that, by the way. I was just trying to make my argument more convincing.”

Mai laughed, the sound soft like the murmur of dew-fingered morning glories. “I don’t mind,” she told him. “Do you imagine th-”

Mai’s words were cut off by a distressed wail, shrill like a wounded animal screaming for its mother. “You can’t take him from me!”

Ugh. Alejandro rubbed his temples. “Zhang did say that Angelika was attached to this mortal,” he sighed, giving Mai a wry look. “It might be a while. Sorry for making you come all this way with me.”

Long minutes passed. The other vampire shrieked into the rising sun, the sound stabbing viciously at Alejandro’s eardrums and gouging all the stars out of the sky: “He’s mine, he’s mine! You can’t take him from me!”

First blood-hungry Popelina, now much-too-loud Angelika. Were all the vampires under the Bloodmother’s care this fucking insufferable?

Finally, the door leading to the gardens slipped open. The screaming had stopped, though Yinmei Zhang’s face was twisted into a grimace as she approached, her grip tight like a vise around the human’s upper arm. Alejandro held back a wince as the older vampire’s dagger-sharp nails pierced into his papery skin: a boning knife to crushed blackberries, with bloodied rivulets weeping out of the wounds in gushes of liquid ruby.

Alejandro wrinkled his nose. Human blood normally smelled rich and sweet, but this human’s blood was sickly-sour, the rot-stench of overripe fruit. Yuck.

“Zhang, are you sure it would be a good idea to separate them so soon? This was all rather sudden for Angelika, the poor thing. She’ll be out of sorts for weeks.” The Bloodmother’s velvet-lined voice floated softly into the air behind Zhang, and Alejandro could make out the outline of her figure at the threshold of the door, silhouetted by a shallow pool of honeyed dawn-light and summer sunglow.

I’m out here with an umbrella and this moldy trench coat that looks like it came straight out of a cliche mystery movie, but Vavassour and Zhang aren’t having any problems with daytime, Alejandro realized with a jolt. They must be blood-weavers, then, just like I thought. We’ve all heard that blood-weavers are more resistant to the sun.

“If you tell Chatham and Weep-not to clean up his corpse, all they’re going to do is try to pester me into doing it, the horrid little things,” Zhang shot back. “It’s much easier this way. Angelika will get over it.”

The human in question was beautiful, even with bruises blossoming over his skin like blooming hyacinths and mottled plums. His sapphire-bright eyes were dulled with fear, and a dark tousle of curls spilled in front of his face as he stared intently at the ground. Zhang pushed him in Alejandro’s direction, and Alejandro’s gaze flitted down to the bite marks ribboned across the pale flesh of his throat. The rapid thumpthumpthumpthumpthump of his heartbeat was tinged with sharp prickles of panic and agitation, and it echoed loudly in Alejandro’s ears as he stepped forward.

“Hi,” he whispered, trying for a reassuring smile. “The Bloodmother agreed to let you come live with me, and I think my friend here might know a way to make your sickness go away. Does that sound alright?”

The mortal glanced up, startled and afraid. He swallowed nervously, “Who are you? Why are you...why are you taking me away from Mistress?”

Alejandro resisted the urge to flinch away, unnerved by the look of pure devotion in the human’s eyes. Was that what he had been like, every time he defended Adrian to Elias? The time that Elias gave him his blood and saved his life after Adrian lost his temper, and Alejandro insisted on going back to his sire anyway?

“My name’s Alejandro,” he replied, the bitter tang of crimson-copper and anguish ghosting over his tongue in a half-remembered memory. “I live in California.”

“Why...why should I go to California?” the human whispered. “Is...is very hot there.”

“We’ll take care of everything you need,” Alejandro promised.

The last thing he saw before Mai portaled them back to his penthouse were the mortal’s brilliant blue eyes, glazed over in a glassy sheen of tears.

LIKE BLOOD FOR ROSES. {au}

Like blood for roses; like roses for saints.

{A loose Ayzfan expanded universe premise. Deviating slightly from our usual ~thing~ but still hehehe :D}

—

Underworlders have flocked to Los Santos like a murder of crows, embedding themselves deep within the flashing neon veins and smog-choked lungs of the city.

But still-

-the Wolves are a problem.

—

So, understandably, Los Santos has become overrun.

—

-the Wolves are coming.

#i kinda hijacked angelika in this one aldsfjsald;faf #sorry sorry sorry #btr #like blood for roses

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mermaidmafia-official · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER I.

LIKE BLOOD FOR ROSES

For the first time in their long acquaintance, Mai and her husband were not fashionably late.

Mai Mei and Niklas König had an impression to make, after all, and Alejandro and Gen were simply tangled up in the middle of it. Alejandro’s gaze flitted about the ballroom as the two of them arrived, right on time - the blackout curtains he’d outfitted for the windows were thrown open to the night, the horizon gleaming with the sharp shine of glass and steel from the city below; slivers of refracted, ricocheting radiance that drowned out all the stars. Only the moon was still visible, a winking, glistening snowdrop in the sky: a snub to the Wolves. He remembered Zhang’s soft voice and the searing crimson gleam of her ruby eye, the shiver and tremor of the murmuring breeze as her words floated into the air like the first trembling notes of a wintry, rose-dusted Tchaikovsky ballet: we shall hold it on a full moon, yes?

Inside, however, was a different story. Mai and Niklas had an impression to make, yes, but they had an impression to make on House Vavassour specifically. Fortunately for them, Alejandro was a splendid party planner, calligraphic invitations and raven messengers aside. There were garlands of fresh roses festooned across the walls and shedding their petals to float down to the floors, crystalline chandeliers dripping brightness from above, tinkling flutes of bloodwine and tiered fountains of unmixed blood flowing freely at the damask-clad refreshments tables.

“Alejandro, you’ve done a wonderful job,” Mai said as she swept through the room in a twirl of satin and shadow, a smile glowing across her face when she caught sight of Gen. Mai’s porcelain complexion was even paler than usual, somehow: she was a crescent moon in a gown of pristine snowfall, as blinding and bright as the strands of silver-shine clustered around the delicate curve of her throat and cascading down her sternum. Still - Mai was not a vampire, but an undead sorceress, a soul brought back from the realm of the dead and shoved into a corpse. Like the moon itself, she would give off no light if she were not haloed in the brilliance of her husband beside her.

Niklas, for his part, was also pale like bone. His frostbitten eyes were glittering shards of princess-cut diamonds: a hard, shimmering gash of light that had no room for softness or mercy. Together, they were the cutting luminescence of gemstones shattering over ice, and they would have been too much for Alejandro’s sensitive eyes if not for the midnight gloom puddling into Mai’s gaze and the darkness of her lips, bloodied with blossoming roses.

“Good evening, Mai. Lord König,” Alejandro replied, returning Mai’s smile in thanks and inclining his head toward Niklas. Beside him, Gen mirrored his actions, and Alejandro let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. He’d worried about Genevieve, who was still so new to all of this, but it seemed like the endless etiquette lessons and genealogy lectures had paid off.

In truth, Alejandro hadn’t wanted one of these stupid things for Gen. Induction, shmduction. What was it, 1533? And besides: hundreds of years later, and Alejandro still had to suppress a shudder when remembered his own induction into Adrian’s House, the icy hand that would slip up to grasp lightly at the nape of his neck - ownership disguised as affection. He knew that things would be different for Gen, but a ballroom full of vampires and other underworlders had never been the healthiest environment for a fledgling, no matter when or how they’d been Turned.

Nevertheless, they would need the Bloodmother and Zhang if they wanted to face down the Hunters and Stefanos’ Wolves (and Niklas, though that was Mai’s little secret) at the same time. And Yinmei Zhang - the insufferable Granny Zhang, as was the saying in some underworld circles - had been the one to propose the alliance on behalf of House Vavassour in the first place, citing her ancient ties to House Mei back in Liang. After all of that, it would have been horrendously impolite to refuse their new allies the honor of joining them in celebrating their newest member.

“All these fucking politics,” Alejandro groused under his breath as he handed Genevieve a glass of water. “How has Mai been doing this for two thousand years?”

Gen gave him a curious look, and Alejandro shook his head slightly, laughing. “Nevermind that. Let me check your braid?”

Gen turned her head obligingly, her skirts swishing in time with her movements like the ebb and flow of the tides. His (for all intents and purposes, anyway) fledgling was spun silk shot through with night sky, sheened in a faint shimmer of moonglow. Her gown was blue like mist and sea-shine, and she had dainty strands of stars woven into her flame-kissed hair to complement the earrings from Mai - earrings that matched the rose-dagger ring on Alejandro’s finger, done up in ruby and gold instead of sapphire and silver.

A commotion near the foyer drew Alejandro’s attention away from Gen’s intricate braid crown. “Ah,” he said, holding his arm out for Gen. “The guests of honor. Let’s go say hi.”

Gen gave him an anxious glance, but took his arm anyway. Alejandro drew in a breath, and plastered a smile onto his face. Well. Here goes nothing.

*****

The Bloodmother and her entourage arrived in a twist of space and shadow, portaling in from their residence in the north. Alejandro’s eyes flickered over all the assembled vampires, jewels glittering at their throats and smiles slashing frenetically across their faces, bright and delirious like a blood-drunk daydream. Laughter and chatter twinkled crimson as rose petals floated like embers into the air.

The penthouse ballroom was positively gushing with color - berry-sweet reds, sun-scorched golds, velvet-rich violets - yet the Bloodmother and her closest confidant were spun in monochrome. Alejandro greeted them with a beaming smile, welcoming them inside as the other vampires made way for the pair: Ysabelle Vavassour in a sharply tailored jacket and robes that billowed with shadow, and Yinmei Zhang in a gown like night-blooming moonflowers, sheer lace gilded in star-shine and trailing strands of freshwater pearls. The only spot of color between the two of them was the piercing scarlet of Zhang’s left “eye”, a glassy ruby orb staring out from the empty socket.

Ysabelle and Yinmei glided, arm-in-arm, across the rose petals strewn over the floor of the ballroom to where Alejandro was waiting with Gen, Mai and Niklas just behind him. From Alejandro’s vantage point, the floors almost looked like they were speckled with blood.

“Lady Vavassour. Lady Zhang. You are both absolutely stunning tonight,” Alejandro said to them as they approached, and the Bloodmother cracked a smile.

“Why, thank you,” she replied pleasantly. Yinmei Zhang only gave him an unimpressed look, though she inclined her head in Mai and Niklas’ direction as the Bloodmother exchanged greetings with them.

The two of them smelled of a rare blood magic - blood-weaving, according to Mai - and Ysabelle more so than her companion. Alejandro’s nose twitched with the scent of ash and roses, fresh blood and cindered earth. It must be what they use to control humans, he realized. To keep them ‘beneath the roses’.

Once the Bloodmother’s hawk-eyed gaze was back on them, Alejandro moved forward an inch, stepping ever-so-slightly in front of Gen to put himself between her and the other vampires. “This is Genevieve,” he introduced, the beaming smile still fixed into his face. “Ah, and Genevieve, this is Lady Ysabelle and Lady Yinmei Zhang of House Vavassour.”

The Bloodmother’s loose hair fell over her shoulders in a waterfall of ink as she directed steel-sharp eyes toward Gen, who was murmuring all the appropriate niceties. The older vampire seemed pleased by what she said, because she was smiling: tight-lipped, not showing fang.

Oh, thank the stars. This is good.

Then, Rafael - one of Adrian’s men with the biggest mouth on the entire planet and a highly questionable sense of loyalty - nudged his way over and opened his mouth to speak, and Alejandro thought: Nevermind, this is bad. Bad, bad, bad. Bad!

“She looks like that one of yours who killed all those mortals, doesn’t she?” Rafael said loudly. The one you can’t control, he did not say, but the implication was heavy in the air.

Alejandro gritted his teeth. That fucking bastard-

“What did you say?” Yinmei Zhang interjected harshly, and Alejandro felt Gen stiffen beside him as tension cut through the crowd, thick and choking and coiling around them like Adrian’s hand crushing at his throat. When he attempted to send a reassuring smile her way, he saw that she’d frozen in place, her face as white as the fluttering silk sleeves of Zhang’s gown.

The Bloodmother was still smiling, but her lip had curled upward, wicked-sharp fangs flashing dangerously under the crystal-edged light of the chandeliers. “Don’t mind him, darling. I’m sure he meant no offense to our dear Poppy, and as frail and aged as you are, you’re hardly suited to fits of ill-temper - your bones could turn to dust at any moment.” And for all that her voice was as mild and pleasant as a spring afternoon, Alejandro could hear the shiver of steel behind her soft words.

Alejandro watched, relieved, as Zhang rolled her remaining eye up to the ceiling, exasperation and fondness playing across her features. “I’m barely older than you at all, Ysa,” she muttered under her breath.

Alejandro stepped another inch forward, refusing to let his apprehension show on his face. “I’m sure Rafael here meant no offense either,” he said to the Bloodmother. “He must have been very impressed with Popelina’s prowess in battle.”

He paused delicately. “The mortals were from a historical society or somesuch, no? They must have been quite irritating to...confront. I can’t imagine what they would have wanted from you.”

Yinmei Zhang was rolling her single eye again. “You tell them, Ysa. Who was the chairwoman - Paula? Pauline? She looked like she’d swallowed rotten milk when we told her we were married.”

A nervous ripple of laughter rolled through the gathered crowd, and just like that, the tension was bleeding away, swept out in a current of merrymaking as the vampires returned to the festivities. Alejandro let himself relax again, shooting Gen another reassuring smile. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a pair of Niklas’ men approaching Rafael, most likely to escort him out of the ballroom.

Whatever. Alejandro didn’t care. The important thing was that nobody had gotten killed in his house, god fucking dammit, so he was calling it a win.

When he next looked up, the Bloodmother was reaching for some of the bloodwine herself, the liquid shining from behind the glass in prisms of vermillion. Yinmei Zhang, however, was staring straight at him...and Gen.

“Are you her sire?” Zhang asked curtly, jerking her chin in Gen’s direction.

Alejandro shifted, uncertain of why Zhang, well, cared. “I am not her sire in the most literal sense,” he answered slowly, “but the vampire who Turned her has been indisposed, and he failed to fulfill the standard responsibilities of a sire.” He smiled brightly, “So, I am officially Genevieve’s sire now.”

Zhang nodded once, abruptly. A whisper of a memory floated through Alejandro’s mind; hadn’t Mai mentioned Zhang’s sire before, and his infamous collection of human eyes?

That sounds absolutely ghastly, Alejandro thought. How much magic did he put into just maintaining that sort of thing?

“Do you want more water?” Alejandro whispered to Gen, once Zhang’s attention had drifted. “We can leave them soon, since there are still others I’ve yet to introduce you to.”

Gen’s sea glass eyes flashed from the Bloodmother and Zhang to Mai and Niklas, then back to Alejandro, rabbit-quick. “Please.”

Alejandro smiled gently. “Of course,” he answered, and prepared to come up with an excuse to go.

It was going to be a long night.

LIKE BLOOD FOR ROSES. {au}

Like blood for roses; like roses for saints.

{A loose Ayzfan expanded universe premise. Deviating slightly from our usual ~thing~ but still hehehe :D}

—

Underworlders have flocked to Los Santos like a murder of crows, embedding themselves deep within the flashing neon veins and smog-choked lungs of the city.

But still-

-the Wolves are a problem.

—

So, understandably, Los Santos has become overrun.

—

-the Wolves are coming.

#btr #like blood for roses

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mermaidmafia-official · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER 0 — PROLOGUE.

ROSE-PETALED, RAVEN-WINGED

Alejandro was loath to use the ballroom in the glass-edged, steel-shining penthouse - vampires and floor-to-ceiling windows did not mix, in his experience - but he supposed he could make an exception for Genevieve.

“The least Zhang could have done was pay for all this shit. She was the one who insisted we hold a party for Gen anyway,” Alejandro muttered under his breath as he contemplated the invitations, twirling a strand of his long blond hair around his finger. In centuries past, an invitation to the celebration of a newly-turned fledgling was a curlicued, flourishingly elaborate thing, handwritten in swoops of ink (or blood, or flakes of gold, or whatever else the host thought would make an appropriately ostentatious impression) and delivered by a bespelled raven, only to dissolve into a fall of rose petals as soon as the invitee had read the message. Ravens were rare in Los Santos, though, and Alejandro didn’t have a functional printer.

Oh, what the hell. Saving the trees and all, he thought, and arranged for a single invitation to be sent to Bilitis House - delivered by post, because surely even the Bloodmother and Granny Zhang would understand that magicking a fucking raven was impractical in this day and age - then picked up his phone.

Invitation, shmivitation. WhatsApp was just as good as any overly dramatic messenger spell, and there would be no shredded flower petals to clean up besides.

*****

“What do you think?” Alejandro asked Gen when she stepped out from behind the screen, grateful for the excuse to continue leaving Andronikos on read (no, he wasn’t paying for his new jacket, no matter how much he loved sucking Anton’s dick. It wasn’t his fault that Hunters decided to crash the one meeting Mai wanted the warlock at).

The younger vampire ran a finger along the intricate crystalline beadwork lining the sleeves like clusters of twilight-glistening dewdrops. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, and Alejandro smiled, pleased.

“It has pockets, too,” Alejandro said, and Gen let out a soft, startled laugh. “Mai insisted.”

Gen glanced up. “What are you going to wear?” she asked him.

Alejandro hummed, thoughtful. “I don’t know, yet. But, here - I have the earrings.”

Alejandro reached for the box Mai had left with them, prying it open to reveal a set of earrings nestled snugly into the plush black velvet. The jeweled studs bloomed into a pair of delicate sapphire roses, clear and cold like spring snowmelt, and the thorned stems were twined around shards of silver wrought into daggers.

“This is Mai’s sigil?” Gen said, her voice hushed.

Alejandro nodded. “House Mei’s, to be specific. We had them ordered for you earlier this month, in colors we thought you’d like. Do they match this dress?”

Gen held the earrings up to her ears. In the reflection staring back at them from the mirror, the silvered daggers were twinkling points of star-gleam, glinting brilliance suffusing into the blue and midnight of her rustling silk skirts.

Alejandro beamed. “They’re perfect, no?”

Gen nodded, eyeing the complete ensemble as her coppery red hair caught the pale, trickling light of Mai’s guest room in a burst of scarlet-flamed radiance, bright and burning like blossoming roses.

*****

“Come by afterward, if you want,” Alejandro told Elias as he showed the Wolf down to the garage on the day of Genevieve’s official induction, the bite marks stinging the inside of Elias’ wrist closing before his eyes. “Gen won’t be hungry again just yet, but she likes spending time with you.”

Elias merely grunted - like the stoic brooding manly-man Wolf that he was, of course - and Alejandro let out a soft, helpless laugh. “Don’t give me that shit. I know you don’t like these things, even when House Vavassour isn’t involved, but they should all be gone before dawn.”

“They keep enthralled humans, Alejandro. Am I supposed to have any other opinion of them?”

Alejandro sighed, trying for his best placating smile as they walked down the corridor. Outside the window, the twilight was warm and pink with the setting sun, ribboning the sky with blush and garnet as if there were blood spilling sweetly out of a vein opened over the city. At ground level, however, the air was hazy with smog: a smother of smoke like leaded sea foam, choked over with ozone and dust. Alejandro could taste the bitter tang of car exhaust on his tongue.

“I know they keep mortals, but don’t say it like that, Elias,” Alejandro answered. “It’s gauche.”

“It’s the truth,” Elias retorted, giving Alejandro a look. Alejandro had seen that same look in his eyes before, a scant few times: a raging sea of tourmaline and teal, a storm thundering across rain-swollen clouds and hyacinth-bruised skies. Roaring, fury-hot lightning jagging like the Wolf’s sawtoothed scars, rending the world in two; scorching and shining and incandescent.

Funny, Alejandro thought. I’ve only ever seen him look at Adrian like that, when he’s around me.

“It is the truth,” Alejandro conceded, holding up his hands. “But you know we have to play nice with them. The Bloodmother and Zhang alone are powerful enough to stop your brother. And that’s not even counting the rest of their Coven.”

“Then what else am I supposed to call it, if not ‘enthralled’?” Elias demanded irritably, a snarl simmering in his voice and Wolf-gold tinging his irises in serrated sunlight as he rolled his eyes.

Alejandro shrugged. “What the Bloodmother calls it,” he replied. “Beneath the roses.”

LIKE BLOOD FOR ROSES. {au}

Like blood for roses; like roses for saints.

{A loose Ayzfan expanded universe premise. Deviating slightly from our usual ~thing~ but still hehehe :D}

—

Underworlders have flocked to Los Santos like a murder of crows, embedding themselves deep within the flashing neon veins and smog-choked lungs of the city.

But still-

-the Wolves are a problem.

—

So, understandably, Los Santos has become overrun.

—

-the Wolves are coming.

#btr #like blood for roses

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mermaidmafia-official · 3 years

Text

LIKE BLOOD FOR ROSES. {au}

Like blood for roses; like roses for saints.

{A loose Ayzfan expanded universe premise. Deviating slightly from our usual ~thing~ but still hehehe :D}

—

Underworlders have flocked to Los Santos like a murder of crows, embedding themselves deep within the flashing neon veins and smog-choked lungs of the city.

But still-

-the Wolves are a problem.

—

So, understandably, Los Santos has become overrun.

—

-the Wolves are coming.

#like blood for roses #btr

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mermaidmafia-official · 3 years

Photo

BLOODMOTHER . old, very old. eyes like steel, hair like ink. selectively soft-hearted. viciously protective.

Ysabelle Vavassour in a sharply tailored jacket and robes that billowed with shadow...Alejandro’s nose twitched with the scent of ash and roses, fresh blood and cindered earth. It must be what they use to control humans, he realized. To keep them ‘beneath the roses’. @bebemoon <3 !

FLEDGLING . young, very young. eyes like sea-glass, hair like flame. soft-hearted and loyal. viciously protective.

#btr #adflksadjf;asdf more of this random crossover that has no direction at all but here we are

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mermaidmafia-official · 3 years

Text

LIKE BLOOD FOR ROSES. {au}

Like blood for roses; like roses for saints.

{A loose Ayzfan expanded universe premise. Deviating slightly from our usual ~thing~ but still hehehe :D}

—

Underworlders have flocked to Los Santos like a murder of crows, embedding themselves deep within the flashing neon veins and smog-choked lungs of the city.

But still-

-the Wolves are a problem.

—

So, understandably, Los Santos has become overrun.

—

-the Wolves are coming.

#btr #ayz's!#most of ysa dialogue is from fanfan <3 #also i just put them in the housewarming outfits #hope you dont mind!!#like blood for roses

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mermaidmafia-official · 3 years

Text

@bebemoon inferneddy playing 0k lmfaoo

when me and my friends were kids we’d play yugioh by drawing cards from our decks and putting them next to each other and the kid that drew the card with the cooler art won

#0k

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mermaidmafia-official · 3 years

Text

0K WORLD;

[PULPIT CITY.]

ALSO KNOWN AS; “Stack City”

VISUALS

Population: Over-populated

Motto: “If it stinks, don’t touch it.”

Area: Thickly populated, lower-income area of old ramshackle "stack flats". It's built around and above a wide polluted river.

Layout: Labyrinthine. Not unlike a space station, everything- school/ offices/eateries/grocery markets/retail shops/etc.- are located in a central "stack building" whose "off-shoot tunnels" lead dizzyingly around the stacks to corridors upon corridors of private, dingy, little flats which stretch on for the entirety of the city.

If one is not very used to the layout of Pulpit, it is dangerously easy to become hopelessly lost in the labyrinth of stack corridors.

[PRISM CITY.]

ALSO KNOWN AS; “The City of Light and Glass”

VISUALS

Description: The dazzling, solar-powered "City of Light". A central hub for all things 0blivion Key-related and studded with the most popular (and architecturally beautiful) Dueling Arenas.

Area: Prism City is an over-sea city. Due to the generally awful conditions of the mainland, Prism was constructed as a pristine, sun-bathed haven-city that is really only affordable to the extraordinarily credit-rich.

Attractions: 0K Dueling Arenas, Meg-lev fairy-tale carriages,

Transportation: Public transportation is primarily via autopiloted mag-lev carriages, followed by trails of holographic butterflies. Where they lose out on speed, they more than make up for in aesthetics!

Social Media: the CrystalNet connects duelers from all walks of life, and Pixigram is, of course, where you’ll go to brag about your latest Arena victory.

Climate: The climate of Utopia.

Prism City is at the forefront of eco-innovation (clean public transport, solar-powered tech, biomimicked architechture, the abolition of the meat industry, among other things).

Solar Power: Fossil fuels make the skies look yucky, so Prism City is heavily reliant on solar power. Other forms of renewables are present, but Prism City is especially keen on solar power since it matches their branding as the city of light and glass. The main power company is called PRISMA POWER INC. They generate electricity using concentrated solar power operations, with their specially patented ‘helio-crystal’ mirrors and lenses. They also have solar farms, and support the installation of solar panels (‘solar prisms’) in individual homes, with patented ‘solar skin’ technology that allows the panels to take on the appearance of glass or crystal in any color you could imagine.

It's gleamingly pristine, like a crystal- and it is unlawful to sully the city with litter or anything else. In Prism City, they don't just fine litterers- they arrest them.

#0k: world #fanfan's writing #0k: prism city #0k: pulpit #ITALICISED BITS ARE STRAIGHT FROM THE MIND OF AYZRULES

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mermaidmafia-official · 3 years

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𝘍𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘕𝘢𝘮𝘦: Maleagant Belfring 𝘕𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴: Maggy 𝘈𝘨𝘦: 18 𝘉𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺: 13 February 𝘡𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘤: Aquarius

𝘍𝘢𝘤𝘦: Princess Gollum

B͓̽I͓̽O͓̽G͓̽R͓̽A͓̽P͓̽H͓̽Y͓̽

║▌║▌║█│▌

𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴: 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴:

𝘎𝘰𝘢𝘭(𝘴): Renown ? Fortune ? Perhaps just a better standard of living. Maggy’s really itching to be a famous Duelist living in one of Prism City's glistening high rises. (That'll show Gram how much of a waste of time her "stupid, little hobby" 0K is !)

𝘍𝘭𝘢𝘸𝘴: Okay, a lil jealous. A lil emotionally distant. And awfully, awfully stubborn. Never forgives or forgets.

𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴: The Haruhi "Rich People" prejudice is strong with her, having grown up poor. Definitely resents the rich kids who have acquired amazing Decks without scrounging every last cred like she has.

𝘙𝘶𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘳(𝘴):

𝘔𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦(𝘴) 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥: 𝘔𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩:

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘦/𝘚𝘵𝘺𝘭𝘦: Mostly deconstructed grungy pieces- like something she might’ve found wadded up in a forgotten corner of the stacks. Beast-like furry coats, Maison Margiela cloven Tabi boots, horned jewellry/up-do’s, thin ripped stockings, gossamer bonnets (pierced), corselets, etc. She always carries this castle-shaped rucksack.

𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘛𝘺𝘱𝘦: INTJ-T

𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘵: Ruminative

𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘮𝘴:

𝘋𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘛𝘺𝘱𝘦: Beauty & the Beast

𝘚𝘌 (𝘪𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘺): Motheaten Fantasy; decay, rot, mummification, nightmare- # 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘖𝘣𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥:

𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘴: 𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘴: 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘴:

#0k #0k: maggy #0k: bio #fanfan's writing

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mermaidmafia-official · 3 years

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SWAY WITH ME (notes):

potential characters:

(name) bellisle ~ basically roy- right-brained dimwit with grand ideas that stress fox out, witch

(name) fox ~ basically siegfried- left-brained perfectionist (perhaps with a drug habit) but is also the goddamn brains of the outfit, witch

(name) kang ~ aerialist/head aerial choreographer, witch

(name) luciani ~ magic “assistant” (sawed in half, levitated, then disappeared at least twice a night), witch

(name) nachtnebel ~ aerialist/magic assistant, witch, bit blue just coming off a relationship with an elvis impersonator

i also thought it would be neat to have them be the animals as well- like if they need a white tiger to be in the act (fire hoops or whatever), one of the witches just.. shifts into one ? so, that might be something other characters might do exclusively as a role on stage.. ? thoughts on this ?

"The White Tower is a 3,044-room tarot-themed casino resort on the Las Vegas Strip in Paradise, Nevada, United States. The resort was built by developer Robin Dowermouth and is owned and operated by The Tower Entertainment."

White Tower Casino & Resort Hotel:

restaraunts (21): Starbucks, café, tea room, steakhouse, patisserie, Japanese cuisine, French cuisine, etc. “Amalfi” (Italian seafood).. in-room dining

amenities: [The Chariot] Salon and [The Star] Spa, [The Sun] Oasis Pool and Swim-up Bar

nightlife: [The Devil] nightclub (red), [The Lovers] "gentlemen's club", [The Hanged Man] cigar bar, [The Tower] lobby bar

entertainment: [The Magician] theatre ( home of the headlining spectacular Bellisle & Fox ), [The World] cinema, shopping..

casino: [Wheel of Fortune] slots, poker, table games (blackjack, roulette, craps, baccarat, pai gow poker, pai gow tiles)

hotel: rooms, suites, penthouse

hotel signature fragrances (sold exclusively at the hotel): L'Empereur & L'Impératrice

@vampirkaninchen & @interluxetumbra and anyone else that wants in- just let me know !

#swm #notes #just so you all can see what i've got as far as specifics so far ^^#i'm still adding but if you want anything added just let me know !

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mermaidmafia-official · 3 years

Text

0K notes;

0blivi0n Key decks are sold twenty random cards per pack for 100 credits at many shops. Given the sheer number of playing cards, it’s nearly impossible to get anything you need for your deck- which is why Pinocchio Cafes exist. They are places of “safe trading” where players can make trades for cards relevant to their decks without having to worry about receiving a phony. Fake 0blivi0n Key cards are pervasive in the market these days, but at Pinocchio Cafe’s there are vetted 0K employees (“Authorities”) on hand to scan cards for fakes. Of course, trades can be made anywhere, but it’s always a risk- one never knows

Since building a cohesive deck takes years and is extraordinarily expensive, the game is taken very seriously by those who play it. It has ceased to be a “game” once you’ve spent upwards of a thousand credits only to find one useful card for your meticulously curated deck (to say absolutely nothing of the psychopaths that attempt to collect special editions of their main deck). It’s not a pauper’s game for anyone that’s serious about it.

Players like to cosplay their deck’s main “hero” for arena matches.

Available misc. 0K gear:

Deck Companion Lantern (”DCL”) Pocket - gives physical form of one “Hero” card at a time. How to use: slip Hero card into “pocket” and manifest a chibi-version of your favourite Hero card to take with you anywhere ! (Make sure the form keeps line of sight of player/pocket-holder to maintain physical form.)

Deck Holder w/ security identification

Card Types:

Hero Cards

Spell Cards - magic/offense

Tower Cards - trap/defense

Alice in Wonderland (banned deck)

Foregoing the nails ! ._. We’ll keep it an RUA-special thing ^^

Cariselle “Cari”

East o’ the Sun and West o’ the Moon deck (main)

Lives with her grandmother in Pulpit stack-flat

Skint 9 times out of 10

Works to support her 0K habit and is shamed for it by her grandmother

“Why not spend your energy finding a nice boy to take care of you ? Instead, you’re out playing that ridiculous card game- ”

Despite not having very much in the way of funds, she’s a good player due to her connections with players in the upper echelons of the 0K world (like Lox but also other nicer players)

Lox

1001 Nights deck (main)

Orphaned heiress lives with her younger brother in Pulpit’s only “manor”

Moody in latex leggings

A major figure in the 0K world

Newly unbanned following becoming unknowingly tangled up in a phony card operation

Now infamous and having a difficult time dealing with the judgement and allegations that she was and continues to be a cheat

Curated her main deck quite easily (w/ Veruca Salt-like effort)

“Is this game supposed to be fun- ? I’m here to win, not skip rope with these assholes.”

Secretly wants to skip rope with the assholes

Soman

Sleeping Beauty: Insect Special Edition deck (main)

Eats, sleeps, breathes 0K

Has spent an embarrassing amount of time and coin on her main deck

Bit of a drifter

#0K #^^'

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