#| do their due diligence. if you're going after a vampire descended from Buddhist monks that's an insult sksksksk

[stcnefruit]

— open starter.

status - open to all, but pls read my rules and mobile about (pinned post) first before interacting. don't like my starters. muse - iesha saeng-ah seol, adjunct professor of law/licensed attorney with private practice. bisexual, uses they/she/xe pronouns. vampire, six hundred and sixty-nine, appears twenty-nine. can default to appearance age/5+ for non-supernatural thread (if applicable). wanted opposites - m/f/nb, 30+. mocs (muns/muses of color) preferred. wanted connections - colleague, friend, date they've been seeing for a couple times, that one bitch who's supposedly from a line of vampire hunters but has never actually seen an honest to f*ck vampire in their life, etc, as long as it's not taboo give me all of your sh*t. plot - you were supposed to be discussing international law and cases and sh*t but it's a Sunday evening and you're at their house and now they're calling bullsh*t on the 'garlic repels vampires' folklore after cooking you something from the family heirlooms that you swear to God is not even an extant dish and plying you with wine???? really good wine at that???? or maybe you don't drink that's fine here just have more food and hey is it just you are they f*cking with you for fun or are their canines a little longer than usual. well

— there's only so long someone can talk about trade laws and governmental disputes before their soul looks like it's fixing to crawl halfway out of their body and into the open arms of God, so they're not surprised when the conversation takes a less... formal tone after the meal. vampires, though. their weaknesses, specifically. that's one for the books. they wouldn't have pegged the other as being even vaguely interested in poking around things older than law itself. there is the arch of an eyebrow, then, hovering, the slightest tell as they listen to them continue—curious, how invested this one seems to be in what to normal people is only a hypothetical. curious, how easy it is to figure out how much of it this one thinks is not. 'mean no disrespect, love, but listen to yourself,' they interrupt, wine glass in hand, half lounged over the back of the leather sofa like a cat sunning itself in the light of the open window, ceiling to floor. of course, it's pitch fucking black outside and it's Sunday night so there is no sunning to be had, but they'll never miss the opportunity for a good comparison. (the 1975 Léoville-Las Cases vintage still decanting in the glass doesn't hurt.) 'they've said this shit for years and i've heard it all. i've been all over the fucking world, toured the west coast of Africa twice, studied in France for nine years to get my degrees'—they don't linger on that part, because if the other thinks for too long and starts calculating shit they'll realize that xe'd have to be a fucking genius to head to Europe fresh out of xir teens and still wet behind the ears—'if garlic was really the undead's kryptonite i'd have a three story penthouse and a chauffeur waiting for me in hell at this point, the amount of things i've eaten. tonight included.' xe lean over a little further, soft haze of the chandelier above xem. 1950s, vintage Murano glass, Barovier & Toso mounted flush against the ceiling, light from the corners glinting off of the edge of a fang. veneers, on a cursory glance, unless you knew what you were looking for. 'you know what i think? i think someone got pissy they couldn't eat garlic and passed it off as a vampire problem, and then never had to eat another clove of garlic in their life as a result because they were too busy making money off the rumors by selling it as a magic charm or some shit like that.' or, they were a vampire and just wanted to fuck with humans for the fun of it, she thinks, but who would she be if she gave up trade secrets just to catch the hint of another smile from her guest. terribly unprofessional, according to eomma. then again, professionalism is not what gets you a custom engraved stake to the heart on chuseok. missed by three inches, albeit, but eomma is not one to measure distance, just audacity and the nicely healed scar on her chest. no respect for the ancients, these days. // @indiestarter