witchkore

[witchkore]

They move through the crowd with a fluid gracefulness, weight balancing on the balls of their feet, ready to dance out of anyone's grasp should they become handsy. They are their own protector tonight, with precautions in place to prevent any from underestimating her. That boldness, and knowing that they possess knowledge that is still desired by many, is what gives Kore the bright idea of walking up to the vampire that had once casually accosted them at a club, with a story from a time that Kore had believed was gone.

"Tressa Shaw, co-owner and proprietor of Embrace, a quaint little funeral parlor formerly known as Shaw and Sons." They reel off the details with a sly grin, a callback to their last meeting. "You know, I have to commend you on the irony of being a vampire who works with the actual dead, not just the living dead." They tip an imaginary hat to her. "So how's it feel to be part of the in-crowd now?" / @tressashaw

[witchkore]

Kore stands tall, highball glass in hand as they survey the occupants of the room freely. When they meet anyone's eye, Kore takes an extra second to match their gaze before moving on coolly. Plenty are doing the same with them, and they face the challenges head on. A few have tried to pique their interest, and Kore wonders what they are thinking when they see the sparkling jewels on several of the vampires scattered throughout the crowd. Jewels that they had a hand in creating.

It's comical almost, to see all of Port Leiry out in their finest and trying to make a good impression on the visitors to the city. They know that Nadia is here to represent their coven, has caught a glimpse of Viktoria, which means Lana likely is somewhere among the throng of people.

Their lips thin briefly until a voice is cutting through their distracted thoughts, and they turn their head to look upon Caitlin Siltshore. Like everyone else, Kore takes their measure of the younger witch, and there is a humming energy that seems to vibrate just off her skin. There is a difference to her, one that Kore can't quite put their finger on, but Cait is nonetheless a good ally to have in this moment, particularly when there are so many new faces about.

"Could do a bit of quid pro quo," Kore adds amiably with a glint of mischief in their eye. "Knowledge for knowledge." They know what they have to offer, and are curious what Caitlin has under her own domain now.

who: open [0/4]

where: the conclave gala

Caitlin Siltshore glides through the gala with that barely leashed storm - energy she calls composure, eyes flashing like struck flint at every unfamiliar sigil and whispered alliance. Having Atlas Jay on her arm is both flex and a headache — he looks like a dream, but the man can’t order a rideshare to save his soul (see: Uber fiasco.) Whatever. Tonight she can forgive logistical sins; the room hums with fresh variables, and Cait is starving for substance.

Atlas Jay slips away toward the bar— leaving Cait to survey the ballroom’s constellation of coven colors. A quick pulse of witch-light from her fingertips tags another Garnett member across the floor: Signal if anything goes wrong. Fucking hate not having our phones on us. She breathes out, lets her shoulders drop. The night stretches ahead, wide-mouthed and glittering with possibility.

Surya Bhansali is holding court nearby—eternal night, vampiric supremacy, blah blah logistics—and Cait won’t waste perfectly good oxygen debating a plan that ignores basic circadian biology. Coven Mariposa’s leader, Lucho Miralles, flits past in an ambrosial blur; intriguing, but then, there—Fia Palmgren of Wyrmwood, rune-script glowing along the cuffs of their clothes.

Cait turns to the stranger beside her, angling her body like a blade poised to strike conversation.

"I’m dying to find out how Wyrmwood grafts kinetic runes without blowing half their pieces apart. Want to crash the conversation with me? Two brains are harder to brush off than one.”

The Garnett creed thrums in her chest: knowledge shared is knowledge multiplied.

[witchkore]

THE CONCLAVE

Kore arrives alone and they keep their eyes focused forward, so as not to be distracted by something as inconsequential as feelings. They consider themself (probably mistakenly) a bit like the guest of honor and plan to take advantage of all that the night entails. Acutely aware that eyes are watching them, Kore keeps their head high and dials up the charm to stave off their anxiety.

[witchkore]

Gunshots sound different in real life than they do in movies, Kore realizes. Adrenaline blazes through their veins, blood roaring in their ears as they fight for their life.

Bang. Bang bang.

Their body jerks from the impact as two bullets hit their mark, one grazing her left arm and the other embedding deeply into their right thigh. The momentum pulls on their arm just as they strike, and the blade misses the hunter's heart and digs into the meat of her shoulder instead. Kore maintains their grip on the weapon and bodily throws their body behind a counter as another flurry of gunshots sprays out into the workshop.

White-hot pain licks up their leg and Kore grits their teeth to stifle the pained sounds that stick in their chest. Already they can tell that putting any sort of weight on it would be impossible, and the adrenaline that had sustained them was beginning to ebb away, replaced with an exhaustion that seeps deeply into each muscle. The knife clatters to the floor as long fingers press against the gaping hole in their leg, doing their best to stem the flow of blood.

Several thoughts race through their mind in these precious few seconds. Who would find them? What would they think? What would Lana do? Is this karma finally catching up to them? It's interesting what the mind does when death feels so certain, and even more interesting how it copes when that is no longer the case.

There is a faint popping sound and Kore feels the veil on their magic lift. They almost sob in relief at the feeling of their powers welling up inside them once more. Kore wonders what twisted mess they would see if they pulled out the hunter's liver, but it seems she also has an instinct of self-preservation because she plucks the piece of paper with Kore's notes on it, and swiftly leaves the premises.

With a grunt, Kore reaches up to grasp the edge of the workbench, fingers slippery with blood and they try to pull themself into an upright position. It lasts for half a second before their muscles fail and they go crashing down to the ground once more. "Fuck," they spit out. Instead, they work to drag their body towards the front of the store, where their phone rested on one of the counters.

"Hey Siri," they call out breathlessly, sluggish as they lean against the doorway, waiting for the beep in reply. By now, they can feel unconsciousness pulling them in, and they are not going to die here. "Call Lana Lomidze."

END.

She notices, just a hair too late, what the plan is from the witch, and the gun rises from where it's point perches, a singular black eye staring at Kore's center of mass, centering it's leaden gaze on the point between Matsui's brow, ready to stare a hole straight through their brain.

The fire has other ideas.

Heron's instincts get the best of her, and her arm flinches to defend herself, sending the bullet up into the ceiling instead with a deafening crack that fills the space between them. Wet, chemist's flames soak the sleeve and lapel of her jacket, sending her sidelong into a wall to smother it as quickly as she can, but she's still burning when the corner of her eye catches Kore charging. Arm still pittering with fire, she turns the gun back towards Kore and opens fire in that desperate eyeblink, one two three.

She knows one hits, because she can smell see the red spray, but where it was and how many of those three bullets found their home, she isn't immediately aware, because as they swing around eachother and reverse positions, a knife's point misses her gut and swings ungainly and upwards, digging its edge into the meet of the inside of her bicep, keening right through her coat and blouse like it was a hot knife in a stick of butter.

Kore sends the knife at her again, and the hunter catches it in the shoulder this time before she rolls backwards, putting a bit of shelving between the two of them before swapping the gun to her other capable, but less dominant hand. She opens fire again, but Kore's either behind the counter or retreated further, offering only brave words instead. "Dangers of the profession," She says, holstering the unloaded weapon, hand going towards her arm to put pressure on the deep wound.

She's about to pull her own knife out, preferring the short-range hunt anyways, but the tiny stone she's placed on the countertop pops with magic, shattering into tiny pieces and sending harmless glowing shrapnel around the shop. Heron snatches up the bit of scrawled paper instead; The ward is done, which means she's officially at a disadvantage. "Appreciate the cooperation," Heron says, backing towards a bright read EXIT sign. The fire alarm blares when she hits the emergency release to open the back door. "See you again soon, witch."

[witchkore]

Kore wastes no time in wrapping the blade again, as though she thinks Birdie might change her mind. An artifact like this could come in handy, or at the very least, could prove to be an interesting project. "I'll consider it." She'll do no such thing, but if it helps Birdie sleep better at night, then Kore can lie to her. "You come across something else interesting, you know where to find me."

She eyes the ear cuff that she had fashioned for Birdie, and she grimaces slightly at its condition. The vampire would probably be better off just picking out something new, but Kore has always liked a decent challenge. "I'll see what I can do. Might need to melt it down and start from scratch, but I'll apply the same charm. Since that knife is one of a kind, I'll throw it in as part of the same deal, nothing extra necessary unless you feel like giving me a tip."

The idea that this thing could have killed her... that it could have killed Lara makes Birdie's stomach drop into a chasm. It explains a few things; why it's not healing. Why it's still hurting her. Why Skinner'd never really recovered from getting it planted in his head. It's another piece of guilty debris in a tempest full of mistakes that she feels like she's invited into the air here.

Kore's confirmation's quick, efficient, and stone-cold. She can't exactly say she doesn't appreciate the lack of mystery; it's nice for something to be at least vaguely straightforward. Still, that leaves there where it came from and how Skinner got ahold of it. Matsui's question interrupts her wandering tangent of thought, though, and she turns to them with a ponderous expression.

"Ah- If it covers shit, it can be..." She says. There's a part of her that wants to protest, because there's something about that knife that sours her empty stomach. "But I think you should just find a way to melt it down and get rid of it... but if it square us, whatever, just... I don't know, be careful with it I guess." It's obvious, but, well, she does owe Kore a debt.

That reminds her. "Oh ah... " She fishes around, pulls the golden earclasp out. "I uh... I don't really know if I need this now but uh, you think it can be fixed?" It's warped from when it'd been bashed and torn from her ear, this tiny thing in her palm. "I don't know. Don't care so much about hiding right now but it could be useful sometime, I don't know."

[witchkore]

⚡️ Why do you want to be remembered?

"Because this world has done everything in its power to silence people who look like me, who love like me, who act like me, and what better way to repay them than to make sure that whatever mark I leave on the world is one they can never erase?"

[witchkore]

Their head turns as another voice joins them, and with all three sisters standing before them, the resemblance is clear. Their lips twitch slightly, getting this forbidden glimpse of Lana's life. It's a bit like getting to peek behind the curtain of mystique that surrounds the vampire. The very idea of 'sisters' brings her back down to the world where Kore can reach her. Like she's less untouchable.

It becomes only more apparent when they begin to bicker, like any other sisters that Kore has known. They don't mind waiting, watching the exchange with rapt attention like she could glean all manner of information from these handful of moments alone. They had known Lana was the eldest, but there is something different about watching her in this particular element. What sort of little sister didn't inspire a volatile reaction? Had anyone else dared to speak to the vampire as Çaska was doing now, Lana would have removed their head and/or their heart without a second though. Kore has seen it happen.

They find the briefest lull in the conversation and slide in with precision. "Thank you for inviting me into your home, as well as a few other guests. I'm sure they're all as appreciative as I am." They don't touch Lana again, acutely aware of the way both sisters' eyes linger on her curiously. "I've actually... not heard that much about you."

@viktorialomidze

"That would be me." Viktoria steps into the room, having heard familiar voices from a few doors down. She'd given Sadie free reign of her bedroom while she excused herself to greet her sisters and prepare tea. At the sight before her, her eyes narrow slightly at the joined hands and the touching -- that was a development.

She closes the space up to Çaska, resting a gentle hand on the small of her back to hopefully help stave off another explosive fight between the oldest and the youngest of the two of them. Always caught in the middle, always mediating. Not that she minds it much.

"Çaska's guests are fine, Svetlana." Her head tilts and rolls to gaze intently at Kore. "What I'd like to know is why you've been hiding this delicacy from us." Sharp blue eyes cut up to her older sister, "You grew a heart and didn't tell us? For shame." Her usual neutral, even tone takes on a teasing lilt.

Back to Kore. "I'm Viktoria. Pleasure."

@firstlomidze

[witchkore]

⚡️what's it like to be infatuated with something that's older than modern history?

"Exhilarating as fuck, what else do you want me to say? When I think about everything she's seen, the people she's met, the regimes she's outlived? And knowing that somehow I measure up to all of that?" They grin, even though they don't mean to. "I could listen to her for the rest of my life and still never get enough. I only wish I'd met her twenty years ago."

[witchkore]

Of course she is going to try something stupid. She wasn't going to die here in silence. Kore has no illusions that once she's handed the notes over to this 'Helen', that she won't receive a bullet to her head for her troubles. The witch moves over to the metal cabinet that holds all manner of chemicals and solutions that she uses in her daily work. To someone unfamiliar, it would look like a mess, but for Kore, it's organized chaos and she knows exactly what she's looking for.

Her hands reach for an aerosol can and a lighter, hesitating only for half a second before she spins and aims, sending a flame roaring in the hunter's direction. She keeps her finger pressed down and uses it as cover to dart towards her workbench. The knife that Birdie brought to her was still wrapped in rags and Kore drops her improvised weapons so she can grab it.

Run from a knife, charge a gun. It was a lesson she doesn't remember learning but the instincts fire all the same. She lunges at the woman, hoping that between the flames and the abrupt change in direction, Kore could stick that blade between her ribs. But she's not a fighter and she never has been, and her strike misses center mass, just managing to slice up her arm. At least that's something. "If I don't kill you, someone else will," she spits out, reaching back to deal another blow.

"Not yet." she says in reply. And it's true. The Conclave is coming, and that's the point of no return. This has to be erased before they get here, before it has a chance to spread outside of this miserable pit of a city.

She approaches the door, once Kore moves away, idly scans them as she writes. It feels different with witches. With a werewolf, it's a hunt, even with a Vampire; they die unlike a human, stoning over, crumbling to dust. Witches aren't monsters; she recognizes that. She does see them as tools, and useful ones, but they still tip the balance away from human safety enough that the untrustworthy ones are better off dead. Heron's never cared for the Brotherhood's stringent theological mandates nor has she ever thought much of the Fellowships's fundamentalism, even as one of it's founders. Kore could be an weapon, if Heron had the time for babysitting. But she doesn't.

"If it helps. But don't try anything stupid," she says, adjusting her stance, because having to say that belies that something stupid is about to be attempted.

[witchkore]

They look about their store, eyes moving casually to each protective measure they've installed since someone had tried to intrude here. They hate that it shook them so much, made them feel small and useless after they had been the one to change the world. Hunters have walked through their doors before, seeking out the same glamour charms and protective jewelry that the humans and witches do. They make a point not to ask them what they intend to do with her work. A little plausible deniability worked wonders.

They take an extra second to lock away anything corrosive or reactive before their next client turns up. Just in case. Much of their merchandise is fragile and between the attack and the hurricane, they don't have much tolerance for yet another shake-up.

When Nico enters, they have their materials prepared, presuming he wants the same spell as always. They raise a hand in greeting before getting straight to the point, signing slowly as they speak. "Let me see what damage you've done to it this time." Their work is sturdy, but everything about Nico screams that he's never met an impulse he's tried to stop.

There's a mutually beneficial angle to this relationship, a modicum of safety in exchange for a mostly harmless spell, but Kore's back is stiffer than usual as they regard him, like they're waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nothing. "The usual then?" // @poiscns

[witchkore]

She's not surprised by the confirmation, though it would have been smart for the vampire to get the hell out of town. It would've been smarter for Kore too, but her hubris has always been a bit of a blind spot. "Yes, actually, I changed the world." Her eyes sparkle with a hidden challenge, daring Heron to say she's wrong.

That is the only reason she does as the hunter bids, moving over to pick up a notebook and flip to the first blank page. If she dies right now, at least she dies knowing that it was her magic and her knowledge that shifted the balance. What better legacy than that? She finds a pen amidst all of her papers in the next second and begins to scratch down instructions, though she does leave out a few crucial details. Can't make it all easy for them.

All the while, her mind flits from option to option. Her phone is in the front room, meaning calling for help is impossible. She doubts that a commotion would cause anyone to come looking. The gun is still trained right at her, and whatever binding magic she brought in with her is still holding. Well, she hasn't needed magic to live her life for the last twenty years, and she doesn't need it now.

"You mind if I take a look at my materials? I want to make sure I'm giving you the right notes so you don't accidentally blow yourselves to kingdom come."

"My mother's name was Helen." She says with a smile. "So you're correct."

She keeps the gun trained on Kore, studying their face, the way they move. Witches are wily sorts - mostly human, save the powers they command through blood or practice. That makes them, perhaps, the most unpredictable game. Useful as allies, lethal or worse-than-lethal as enemies. There's no mistake in her mind; once she has what she needs, this witch will not be left as a loose end.

Vampires get wood. Wolves silver. Witches succumb plenty easily to good old fashioned lead.

The pistol stays on Kore as Heron rounds the counter, approaches the workshop. "Quite." She addresses the question about Lucia. "I'd planned to be a little more graceful and take my time about this but I wasn't exactly sure what she was planning for that little Ocean's Eleven bit you all pulled, but tipping the scales, the way you have? Letting vampires walk in the sun? Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Kore is just one stop on a long list of targets, Arcades and Masquerades be damned. Michael is on the ropes, Alejo is dead, and the Fellowship is run aground, held up by novices and half-hearts, and the Brotherhood, the Brotherhood of all people, is surging in pull.

She motions with the gun as she goes to step through. "Get writing, get away from the door."

[witchkore]

a brief calm before the storm (feat. @firstlomidze) set right before this

She was around the city when the news hit, flashed on every TV she could encounter on display and buildings. The news warning of a hurricane coming to hit the city, the force still unknown... the hurricane alone was a surprise, not one they had expected and Lana wonder how much of it was nature and how much was something supernatural, but she didn't have the time to ponder too much, not if the warnings were anything to believe. Arriving to their shop was easy and she was unsurprised by what she found. Kore seemed to be more focused on their stuff than anything outside. Safe for her, she guessed. She rushed to their side, hands resting on their hips from behind, unbothered by the possibility to scare them. "You're coming with me."

They've been up since before dawn, not uncommon for them when they're working on a new project. Music blares in their ears as they carefully mold the metal to the client's specifications. It's meticulous, painstaking work that demands utmost focus, and they let out an undignified squeak as they hear the sound of the door's chime simultaneously as hands pull at their hips. Immediately, Kore reaches for an awl on their workstation, but finally recognizes Lana's voice.

"Lana, what the hell?" they twist out of her grip and loosen their hold on the makeshift weapon. "What are you doing here? What time even is it?" They look out the window and pause at the darkness before glancing back at the clock on the wall. "What's going on?"

There's no remorse at the sound, and the clear surprise in the other's face. She merely stands there, stoic and unmoving as they tear from her grasp. And she barely contains herself from grabbing them again, pulling them with her and away from the store. There's always something with them that gives her pause. She rolls her eyes, because of course they haven't even noticed, and a perfectly shaped eyebrow raises as she eyes the weapon on their hold, as that'd help them at all, and the evidence of their work. "Early still." She says evenly, looking back up at them. "There's a hurricane coming and you're not staying here."

They blink twice at Lana's calm response, as though she didn't just say a freak weather phenomenon was happening. "Hurricanes don't-" Then again, it's Port Leiry, and anything seems to have a knack of happening in this city. Their mind flickers through several different explanations for it before remembering that's not the main concern.

"The shop, I can't leave it," Kore shakes their head. "Not like this." Their work is delicate, like like spun-sugar that would be obliterated by 125mph winds. They start pulling down the shutters they use to deter robbers, but the metal wouldn't do much against a storm like this. "I need to get something to board this up. There's a hardware store down the street."

The raised eyebrow seems like the only answer needed to an unfinished question, and she can see Kore's brain working to find a reason for the sudden weather change before a frown settled on her features. "Are you joking with me?" The question isn't pointed, there's no anger behind it but just a drop of frustration as she sees them move. There's nothing in this store that can't be replaced and Lana wonders what it'd do if she just forced them out of here. "A hardware store? What part of you're not staying here did you not even understand? We're going, now."

Their face is blank in its seriousness, not bothering to stop as they continue moving about the shop to figure out how to protect the most of their life's work. "And what part of I'm not leaving the store like this did you not understand? You can go if you want, I'll come meet you when I'm done, but I'm not leaving until it's done."

They don't expect Lana to care about any of this, but it's the only thing they have to show for in this world. Magic or not, they've created something out of nothing, and they won't let nature take it away without a fight. They only have one main window to cover up, and hopefully the rest would be protected by the building itself. "I'll be right back." It would be easier with the vampire's help but Kore wasn't about to ask an ancient vampire to do manual labor for her.

There's tension growing in her body that comes only from the anger at being spoken to in such a way. It's been a while since Lana had been challenged like this, and by a mortal human. She would had snapped the neck of anyone else just for making her waste time, but this? She watches them move about, securing things like the hurricane wouldn't destroy it all if it reaches them. Its only their words that make Lana snap out of her anger and she stares in surprise as they head for the door. She rushes in front of them in a second. "No." The single word is spoken as a hand falls on her hip, the other pressing the bridge of her nose. "What do you need?"

Kore jerks back as Lana appears in front of them, blocking them from the doorway and they straighten up, tilting their chin to meet her eye. "My main concern is the front window. A board, maybe two, to at least try and keep it from shattering." Kore looks around at their shop, grimacing slightly at the devastation they can already picture. They don't need their magic for that.

"I'll get my most important things in the safe." They brush their fingers along Lana's arm in thanks, before moving away to do as they said, so Lana can do so herself. The quicker they move, the sooner they can make it up to Lana for being a nuisance.

She almost scoffs at the request, she's not sure a board would be enough, doesn't even know how big this hurricane is going to be since no one seems to even know where it came from. But she just nods, mutters a simple "Alright." Her stance softening just a bit at the light brush and speeds off the store before Kore's even out of her sight. She's back with the boards in seconds, doesn't even feel bad for the dumbfounded expression left on the store attendant after the compulsion and she sets the boards on the sides. She imagines Kore has the tools to even set them up on the windows, and she sees them putting jewels in the safe from where she stands. "If I help you put these up, will you finally leave with me? Or are you just gonna wait here for the hurricane?" She stands behind them in a blink. "Come on, it'll be faster if I hold them up for you."

They work to move their gemstones and precious metals, along with their prized pieces, into the safe that is built into the ground, something thieves -or a hurricane- couldn't carry away. There is no way that all of their products could fit, but at least they could protect what they could. Lana is back before they're done, but they don't hesitate before dumping the rest and slamming the safe shut.

Kore fetches a hammer and some nails, gratified and surprised by Lana's help, but they don't question it in this moment. Instead, they work in tandem to get the boards secured as best as they could be in a situation like this. At the least, it might prevent broken glass from making too much of a mess.

"Okay, done. We can go." Kore grabs their phone and wallet and shoves them into the pockets of a jacket they sling over their shoulders. Everything else would have to wait.

She can't remember the last time she did something like this for anyone. Nor any kind of labor, for nothing in return. And Lana doesn't want to stop to question herself for the reasons behind them. She wants them safe, and alive, because she can use their magic to her will and she enjoys the rush it gives her when they dare challenge her, as if they didn't know the danger she poses, nothing else. She doesn't dare give any other reason for the way she reaches out to them and holds their hand as she gets them out of the shop, waiting for them to lock it up. "We're going to my place." It's far enough from the heat of it that it should be safe. She only hopes her dear sisters decide to wait the hurricane out somewhere else.

Lana's hand is cool to the touch, yet lights a fire in Kore's chest that beats off the worst of the chill. Now that they're outside, they can more fully understand the unnaturalness of the storm and why Lana seems to be so unnerved. This wasn't something that anyone could have predicted, and that means it's impossible to know where it will end.

They're not surprised when Lana offers her manor as a place to settle in for the storm, and offers no protest. "Did you drive, or are you going to continue being my knight in shining armor and sweep me off my feet?"

She can already see people rushing about with the winds picking up. And the news still seem to have no reason for this sudden storm. She doesn't think they'll find any, not one that humans could understand anyway and she only wishes to know who could be doing this. But it's something she'll have to worry about after it passes. She hums, the first glimpses of a smile reaching her lips as she looks at them, pulling them closer with a tug of her hand, her free arm circling around their waist. "I hope you don't get dizzy easily." She doesn't wait to answer before running away from the store, Kore secured in her grip. And she only stops when the manor is within her sight. "How was that?"

Kore barely has a chance to gasp before they are swung into Lana's arms and they're speeding off. It's as exhilarating as they remember, eyes shut tight but feeling the wind against their skin either way. It's over all too soon, and Kore chuckles breathlessly as they open their eyes to look at the vampire.

"That never gets old," they say with a grin before leaning up to kiss her. They're away from the public now, away from prying eyes and the anxiety over the pending storm flows away now that they've secured shelter. "Should we get inside or are you gonna scowl at the storm some more?"

Most of the tension in her body finally leaves her the moment their lips touch, and she pulls them in closer to kiss them just a little longer. She can hear the beating of their heart, still rushed and erratic after the run, now that they're away from most of the city's chaos and she wants for nothing more than to take them. She pulls back though, enough to look at them with a raised eyebrow. "I don't scowl." But she moves away as the words leave her, securing their hand in hers once more to walk them to the door. She can already hear noise inside and she can only hope her sisters didn't decide to have company.

[witchkore]

"Just a minute," they call out from their back room workshop when they hear the door open. They aren't expecting any pickups today, one of those quiet work days that they can just sink into their projects, but inevitably, there is always some sort of interruption. For the best, given it makes sure they don't let hours pass by without eating or drinking.

They take a few additional seconds to properly shut down all of their equipment and store everything in its place before walking out to the front. The wound the hunter left on them has long since healed, courtesy of Lana's blood, but there is still a wariness being alone in the store now that they've never had. Every stranger that passes over the threshold is met with more suspicion than they would like, but they've been informed that dying is unacceptable.

The witch in her shop is familiar, though it takes Kore a second to place her. There is a familiar taste to her magic, and when their eyes fall upon the letters in her hand, it all clicks into place. "Thera," they say, smile widening as their shoulders relax infinitesimally. "So you finally made your way back," they say as they move around the counter to get closer and take her in. "How's the shop? You need anything to restock?"

Closed starter for @witchkore

Location: KM Jewelry Repair

The door bell gave off a satisfying tinkle as Thera pushes through the door. She will be the first to admit it has taken her too long to visit her old pen pal. Thera hoped Kore would understand, the two had joked more times than she could count about being bad at being part of a coven, a fixed community. Both their lifestyles had made it, difficult, to say the least. 

Thera glanced around the shop. It was certainly much more organized than Thera kept her storefront. She grinned as she ran her finger along a display case, surveying the beautiful things kept inside, while clenched the pile of letters in her other. Thera had always been fascinated by tinkering and magical jewelry, but what Kore did was a masterclass. Each piece displayed glowed with an artistry that most would take a lifetime to hone. Kore had written to her about some of her new creations, some of which Thera had tried to replicate with varying degrees of success. But she knew she would never reach the innovative heights Kore did. 

She glanced up as she heard a rustling coming from the back of the store as the fellow witch emerged. “Hiya Kore,” Thera held up the letters like they were an admission, “long time no read.”

[witchkore]

"It's nice to meet you, Helen," Kore says, turning around as she pulls on the gloves and she freezes when her eyes land on the daylight ring she had crafted for Lucia and then flick up to see the pistol aimed at her. In the next moment, she can feel the dampening spell fall over her and she mentally curses herself for letting her guard down. In fifteen years, no one has ever seen fit to attack Kore, but that was before she had uncovered the magic that changed the balance between the factions.

She weighs her options for a long moment, not bothering to hide it from the stranger, but finally, Kore lifts one hand and then the other before turning to walk into the back room. "I'm going to guess your name isn't Helen. You strike me as someone who would hate that name," she says casually as she opens the door to her workshop. It's messier than the front of the shop, with half-drunk coffee mugs strewn about on every flat surface. Notebooks lay open, full of scribbles that only make sense to her, and a half-made up futon in the corner.

Kore steps just to the side of the door to let the woman in. "So is Lucia dead?"

"Helen Yearling," she answers, moving in a little closer. She reaches into her pocket and fishes out a small piece of fabric, placing it onto the pad Kore's placed on the counter for the necklace. It's a thin thing, dainty, red-gemmed. Kore should recognize it; after all, they made it. Heron' for her part, has pulled something else from her pocket as well, a small bit of etched stone with a singular glyph carved into the surface; a talisman the mutes incantation and focus for a few crucial moments.

The pistol comes out of her jacket next; and her thumb strokes a companion sigil across the small stone, triggering its effects. "I'm going to need you to take me into your back room, and not try anything funny, and you're going to write down exactly how you made this, and the names of anybody who helped."

She reckons, she has about five to ten minutes to get this done.

[witchkore]

Kore hums as Birdie recounts her story, cataloguing details away in their mind as they inspect the blade. There is nothing remarkable about it, other than the flecks of dried blood that are spattered about. A knife that was capable of harming vampires and interfering with their natural healing process. She's heard of potions that might be able to achieve the same effect, but such concoctions tend to leave their mark, and yet the steel is unblemished.

Her mind jumps from thought to thought, presenting a hypothesis in one second and discarding it in the next. What could harm a vampire? What could continuously harm a vampire? The only thing she's ever heard of is...

"Werewolf venom," Kore says aloud, voice soft in wonder. It's... genius in its simplicity. Spinning in her chair, she leans over to grab a grinding wheel and a small vial. She shaves a few slivers off the tip of the blade into the glass container and drops a few milliliters of a pale blue solution into it. It takes a moment, but after swirling it around, the metal reacts and turns a brilliant gold. "Werewolf venom," she confirms, an almost triumphant grin on her face before she remembers what exactly she's working on.

Kore wraps the blade up again and sets it aside carefully, making a mental note to craft a proper sheath for it when she could. "Your friend is lucky to be alive," she tells Birdie. "I'm sorry she's hurting, but the fact that she survived is better than an actual bite. That would've killed her." She looks at the vampire for a long moment. "Is this what you're paying me with?"

Birdie sets the bundle down, like it might explode. For all she knows, it would.

Arriving in Port Leiry had been an education. Werewolves had come first, but magic? Magic frightened her. That she was out of her mind when she'd discovered it was probably a boon, but here and now, the uncertainty of it, the power of it? She wants nothing to do with it.

Her eyes pass to Kores and they meet briefly before it looks back to the tint of the blade. "I don't know where it came from, someone came in looking to settle some things and, start flailing it around."

"Got a friend of mine, really badly. Face, throat... she's a vampire, like me, but it's not healing. It's been weeks." She shakes her head, trying to think of details. "Uhm... pain, at first there was uh, she was seeing things, I think? That's kind of gone now, or hasn't happened in a while, but... like... it's not healing, it's not even really closing yet?"

She tries not to betray her fear of what it could or does mean. "I don't know where the hell this guy would have gotten something like that, as far as I know it's not from around here but... what the fuck do I know, right?"

[witchkore]

Their back slams against the wall and they let out an embarrassingly loud sound as Lana's fangs bite into their throat. It's different than the sharp cut, clean and simple. This is messy and sensual. They can feel her teeth inside her and the very thought of it makes their eyes roll into the back of their head. They try to focus back on the vampire in front of them, just barely managing to open their eyes before Lana is kissing her.

They've done this dance before, and often, and every time is just as exhilarating as the first. They don't hesitate before tilting their head back to give her access, willingly allowing her to take as much as she wants to. If she chose to drain Kore dry right there, well, there are worse ways to go out. But this is a trust exercise, and they have no problem falling into Lana's arms and believing she will catch them.

They kiss her back ravenously, greedily sucking on her lower lip to taste the remnants of their own blood on her tongue. "We have one hour and thirteen minutes before the gem is crystallized," they look up at Lana with hooded eyes as nimble fingers start to reach for the hem of the vampire's shirt. "How do you want me?"

She doesn't flinch when her blade touches her skin, not even as the verbena burns her flesh and deeper. There's nothing but determination in her face, and something very similar to admiration mixed with attraction as her eyes remained fixed on the witch in front of her. Catching the focused expression on their face and the care with which they work, as if Lana were the most fragile between them. She's seen Kore's do magic before, but never like this, never with her.

It does nothing to calm the hunger inside her, the aching need to feel them close. A hunger that grows the more her blood is drained, with a weakness clinging to her bones that Lana hadn't felt since the moment she turned, and a thirst to fierce that it burns in her throat.

She's still looking at them by the time they're finished, her attention completely and entirely on them, with a need that has nothing to do with feeding even when she aches to taste their blood. To feel the magic pulsing against her tongue the moment it touches their skin, and she can see the same want in their eyes when they turn. But it's only when the knife cuts along their skin and the scent of their blood reaches her nostrils that Lana moves.

Gets to them in the blink of an eye, pushes them all the way back until their back hits the closest wall at the same time she buries her face in their neck and sinks her teeth on their flesh. A deep moan coming from her throat at the first taste and her hands grip a little firmer at their waist. She pulls back just enough to run her tongue along the small wound, breathing in the intoxicating scent. "You're exquisite." The words murmured against their ear before Lana moves just enough to claim their lips.

[witchkore]

Kore is still musing in their thoughts what exactly it means that Lana had come to fetch them personally, helping them to board up their store and bringing them back here to wait out the storm. It has become increasingly difficult to parse through what exactly their relationship is. Kore expected nothing from Lana, figured that they were little more than interesting and useful, but they are worse things they could be. But as they cross the threshold to the Lomidze manor hand in hand, Kore briefly wonders what this would be like if it were normal.

Lana has mentioned very little about her sisters, just the occasional indication that they are trying her nerves. When a younger woman sweeps into the room, Kore tilts her head. She looks like she's barely stepped into adulthood, though the way she holds herself suggests an age that even Kore couldn't comprehend. They're not sure what to make of the way her eyes cut to Kore and how they linger on them, but the witch doesn't flinch away.

"Kore," they reply politely. They can feel the tension rolling off of Lana and they reach out to brush a long finger against her forearm. "Thank you for opening your home to me." Their mother raised them with manners. "You said you had another sister?"

@viktorialomidze @firstlomidze @caskalomidze

She stops the moment they cross the door. She had heard the voices walking closer to the manor, a mix she never even expected to hear in her own home and she can feel the tension growing in her body, her own hold on Kore's hand tightening just a bit despite her attempts not to alert the witch of her growing anger. This could be no other's doing than her little sister's. Viktoria, in all her dealings with the council, never seemed even interested enough in vampires from others clans to even entertain the idea of bringing them home.

She catches sight of Çaska soon enough, and her eyes as hard as she pins her down, releasing her hold on Kore as she takes just one step closer to her sister. "Pray tell, dear sister, what are these... unwelcomed vampires doing in our house." Frankie of all vampires too, her sister might as well had invited the sister than Lana would had hated it even more. The ridiculous and exuberant french vampire did nothing but grate on her nerves. She wondered just how deep was Le Blanc's influence with the council that this girl had not been put down already for all her indiscretions.

She could hear someone else... and by the second heartbeat reaching her ears Lana knew it was a human. Seems like Viktoria did had a guest of her own... better the poor thing than this ridiculous party Çaska brought into their home in the midst of a hurricaine.

@caskalomidze @viktorialomidze @witchkore