night crawling

The sun began its descent downward ... sinking steadily, deeply below the horizon and staining the surrounding fields in a deep, fiery display of oranges and reds. The exhaling wind brought a gentle chill, a whisper of the cooler night that would encompass her this evening. Her first evening in this new world, which so far seemed stunningly normal. Perhaps the earthquake that had taken her here and simply taken her to the other side of the world - straight through the core of the planet and erupting out the other side with nothing to show for it but a few cuts and bruises.

Peculiar.
A crooked smile twisted her ebony lips upward as her thoughts drifted elsewhere.

Spires of stone stood stark against the decaying light of day, casting obscure, elongated shadows on the grass. Amaranth moved toward the structure with a purposeless lilt in her gait ... trapezing forward like a puppet on loose strings. There was a certain grace about the inane way in which she moved - her tall, slender frame dancing forward. She was but a glowing ghost of gold in a world of sunset reds.

As she reached the formation of peculiar stones, the sun settled into its nest ... reds dispersing into navies and purples. The moon yawned, gently blinking to life and shedding a cool white light down upon her now. Amaranth's pace slowed as she reached the monoliths, her paws reaching up and planting themselves on the cool granite. She arched her back, stretching the muscles along the sides of her spine and shoulders. Something ached, something stung ... but she ignored the peculiarities of her fragile mortal state, for as the moon blossomed, so did her mind.

Her lavender eyes sparkled, igniting with an enigmatic, mischievous glint. Paws fell toward the earth, toes stretching as her claws eased into the dirt.

And there she sat, staring at the upright stone as if it were speaking to her.

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Here is where the Vampire chose to sleep away the day. Under a fallen stone that leaned up against another, offering shelter from the light and heat of the day until the darkness would settle upon these lands once more to summon the pale ghoul to roam once more.

As the warmth of the day faded with its light, Abaddon's eyes fluttered open to greet the fading light. There he remained a little while longer, something catching his eye as he took the place of a peeping tom on something that would perhaps be more personal should she know of his presence just within view.

A pretty little thing found the strange stone structures. A golden ray amongst the dimming light that still brought warmth to a chilling night. Above, he could see the fluttering the bats as they too stirred, ready to stretch their wings into the night as the masters they were, all the while she took the time to stretch those lengthy limbs, using the stones to her advantage. The slope of her back, the feminine curves - he couldn't help but feel a little perverse in his little cozy seat.

As she cast her gaze up to the sky, now was the time for him to come crawling out of his little cove. With a feminine-like grace, the young man stood up and stretched out his own limbs with his first couple steps, arching his back downward with his neck craning up, only once as nimble as he could get did the wraith clear his throat to draw attention to himself. “What do you see?” Nothing but an ice breaker.

^^
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[narrow width=700]In nearly every situation leading up to this, it had played out that Valeska was the caster, and Amaranth the shadow. It made sense - the pale wolf was a little louder, a little more brazen, while her golden friend was long and lean and silent, flowing effortlessly over the ground like a stingray in quiet waters. There had been no respite; not when she hunted, not when she arose in the wee hours to relieve herself in the supposed privacy of the underbrush; nary a moment in her life since the pair had met did she ever truly spend alone, whether she liked it or not. Amaranth lurked eternally in darkness, watching with dark, amethyst eyes.


However, things were different now. Since the cataclysm - or whatever it was that struck them from their home - Valeska felt herself smaller, somehow; less than what she was before. The trauma of losing their close-knit little pack was too much for her to process, and what few instances she had to herself now were filled with voices and whispers and the gaze of disdainful gods. 'Failure', they hissed bitterly in her ear. She failed to protect her friends - her family - and now they were gone, lost or dead or trapped somewhere else in this cursed land. 
It was her fault. She couldn't save them.


As the little wolf had gone off a ways to forage for something to eat, trying desperately to distract herself from the pain, Amaranth herself had managed to wander off. She was no doubt in search of something strange with which to start her collection of oddities again; it was her nature to acquire things, and when Valeska returned with a mouth full of rabbit and not a golden hair to be found, she swore under her breath.


"Gods forgive Valeska, did not mean swear," she amended dutifully.


Moving at a steady clip, it didn't take too long for her to follow the scent of lavender to a most unsettling arrangement of stone spires, and found her friend sitting square at the bottom with that peculiar look on her face. Something jogged the back of her memory - the she-wolf had been somewhere like this before, back in the other world - but the thought quickly dissipated as she spied the intrusive form of someone else slinking toward Amaranth, a viper in the grass.


A slightly shorter, stubbier viper followed him on hot little paws.


He rose to greet the golden goddess, her sacred shaman, and barely managed to slur out a greeting when Valeska rose up behind him, rabbit clenched tightly between her jaws with baleful eyes of glowing cinder.


"Watching you, ghost-snake," she hissed, an apparition of disheveled fury.[/narrow]
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She continued to stare until the whites of her eyes burned, the edges of the monoliths blurring in and out of her focus. Encapsulated; entranced. She could only stare at the way the moonlight trickled over the edges of the cool granite, bathing the ethereal structures in an other-worldly light. It reminded her of a distant memory ... such abnormal, unusual structures that could not have been placed here by the hands of wolves. Perhaps they were tombstones. Perhaps there were bodies buried beneath the cenotaphs; ghosts that ached to be spoken to. As the wind drifted across the plains, it coiled gently in the twines of her golden fur. It whispered in her ears.

And she listened. There was a story here. She simply could not believe otherwise.

"What do you see?" A voice came from the heaves of shadow that haunted the rocky spires. It came accompanied by the stale scent of blood; a tangy, metallic tinge on the otherwise soft air. Finally, the ghastly woman blinked, pain stinging through her eyes for a moment as she re-adjusted to the light. Golden ears pressed forward, slender muzzle turning to peer over her shoulder. Enigma riddled through the tumultuous depths of her lavender visages, but a smile curled upon her dark lips as she beheld the stranger. The ghost. The Bloodied. He was but a whisper of a spirit, accented with dark marks of the night around his eyes ... those gems that were an eerie mixture of azure and crimson. She'd never seen anything like him.

Perhaps it was his corpse that had been buried here ...
... only now to rise with the eternal power of the moon.
To rise with the bats and the other coiling creatures of the evening.

"I see whomever needs to be seen," she purred through smiling lips, "but I also see you, Alastor." The nickname rolled off her lips, referring both to his alabaster color and a call to the word's meaning: the avenger, the persecutor. Her body turned to face him, head tilting slightly to the side as she apprehended him with her gaze. "Is this your home?" There was a soft allure to her words; a mystical quality to her siren-like vocals. Her body prepared to move forward, but she was halted as the familiar smell of snow and pine touched her nose.

She'd forgotten she'd wandered off.

"Watching you, ghost-snake," Valeska snickered, appearing from the shadow as if on cue. Amaranth's eyes, however, did not shift from the vampire. "Ghost-snake. Alastor," she began, digesting the nicknames that both of the women gave him without a second thought. "Or perhaps he has a real name?" Her head slowly tilted in the other direction. Inquiring and eternally curious.

Part of her didn't want to know his real name.
Perhaps she would call him Alastor forever.

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There he stood, waiting for a response. With intrigue tickling his senses, he had no reason to hurry them along or feel impatient. After all, where did he have to go in a hurry? There was no monarch for him to answer to or a kingdom to rule. Abaddon was purely that, a ghoul wandering with his own purpose in this new life of his.

She calls him Alastor. He wasn't certain if such a name was more fitting for him or the name he gave himself after shedding his previous life and making anew; unknowingly following in his father's footsteps with such actions. “No.” He cooes with a grin. A ghoul has no home, not this one... and he was doubtful anything permanent would keep him shackled to their boundaries.

Another comes rising out from the shadows behind him, and though for a brief moment he was displeased with being snuck up on - threatened with no reason other than having a pleasant chat with someone else, he let that scowl melt away into a sly smirk, eyes and head shifting just enough to offer a glance at her from over his shoulder. “Why watch when you can partake?” With a tilt of his head, 'Alastor' gestured for her to join in next to him or find her spot next to the golden female.

“I go by many names, Alastor will do just fine if that is what you see. Are we assigning names or will you introduce yourselves? I doubt I can come up with something as fitting as the ones you both go by.”

^^
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[narrow width=700]Perhaps one reason the two women seemed so drawn to each other was the stark difference in personality - one ethereal, flighty, mysterious; just as the other was grounded, pragmatic, rigid. It was said that opposites attract, and it was true that since their first meeting, they now looped continually in and over one another like Yin and Yang, light and shadow. Balance was necessary in all things, and in the ways that Valeska threatened to drive them both into the earth with her unyielding vision of how life ought to be, Amaranth was there to gently lift the burden of her narrow scope and thus open her eyes to a more vibrant world, one full of wonder and beauty and chaos.

Then in other ways Amaranth would float too far, drifting into the dark spaces between atoms and sifting through nebulas as one might pan for gold and its nuggets of truth; so too Valeska would come in with a hare betwixt her jaws, candidly pointing out that she had been staring at that rock for three hours and no one (particularly anyone with golden fur) had bothered to help her fetch dinner today.

Indeed, it was important that they were there to right each other whenever one came too far off course.

'... but I also see you, Alastor,' came the faint, drifting voice of her friend. Valeska tilted her head curiously, eyes darting back to the intruding stranger, puzzling together how they might have met before - then again, Amara had a habit of naming things herself anyway, and admittedly they had a tendency to stick.
Kishi came to mind, and she shuddered.

The white ghost-snake motioned in a generally inviting way for her to join them, and although the great fur bristling about her nape had settled, she still felt an eerie prickling sensation down her spine - something was off about this wolf, and in a way that she hadn't encountered before. He seemed... hollow, somehow. His eyes held no warmth, though they laughed at her defensiveness. Casting a wary glance, she snorted once - quickly, disdainfully - as she passed him to sit by her golden shaman-woman, and sat up straight so as to look as intimidating and surly as possible, which was very little.

"Am Valeska," she said thickly, her voice low and richly laced with her foreign tongue. Making no motion to introduce her friend Amaranth by name, remembering the last dreadful time a stranger had asked for it, she took a breath and continued. "Is this Purgatory? Waiting room for Hell? Did not think would be so... ordinary. Or did bonk my head so hard, can't remember?"[/narrow]
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Valeska encroached upon the delicate meeting of the spirits with all of the fire and rage of a parent scolding their child for sneaking out at night. It was evident in the sternly lit fire in her golden eyes that she grew impatient with her forgetful friend, an aging dinner clenched in her jaws (and crimson looking pretty staining the edges of her silver muzzle). The gore of the rabbit mingled in the air with the curious scent of the other, the tangy essence of blood so distinct in the air that saliva began to pool at the base of her mouth. She could taste him. Her stomach coiled with a bitter hunger - and it was a hunger that was not purely physical.

The ghost replied that he did not live here - just a wandering spirit caught in the soft gaze of the moonlight. Her vision casually shifted to the outcropped boulders, wondering if more ghosts would lift themselves from the soil as they began to speak ... but the earth was still. For now.

The wraith continued - "I go by many names, Alastor will do just fine if that is what you see. Are we assigning names or will you introduce yourselves?" Amaranth paused as Valeska marched over to her, strutting past the ghost with all the brazen fearlessness that a purveyor of the gods should carry. The stockier woman planted herself beside her lankier, aurelian counterpart and introduced herself curtly, her smaller chest puffed with protective pride. Amaranth's form was set in stark opposition, soft and inviting with a warm sultry undertone burning within her deep purple gaze. A gaze that had not yet relinquished the ghost as the hunger burned the back of her throat. Her skin felt ignited, wiry golden hairs prickling with inquisition along the base of her neck and back. Slender tail waved slowly behind her as those delicate golden ears pressed forward.

Valeska was certainly a spoil-sport. And formalities were tiresome.

"Amara." The word slipped from her mouth, dripping as slow and sweet as honey. Valeska began to ask the stranger of purgatory; this strange land where they all seemed to be trapped. "We are all but a collection of lost souls, it seems," she continued, gaze finally breaking from Alastor as her muzzle turned to softly press into Valeska's familiar warmth. She inhaled deeply the scent of frosted pine ... a stark contrast to the alluring taste of copper that litter the air. As she pulled away, her body lifted and pivoted back toward the monolith she'd been staring at prior to the intrusion. It was worn, cracked, beaten.

Her mind wandered, falling back on Valeska's comment about this mundane purgatory. "These are the first unordinary things I've seen here," she mused lowly, once again reaching a golden paw to touch the base of the rock. As she did so, she side-glanced toward Alastor, a subtle innuendo resonating in her gaze ... for not only were the rocks unordinary ... but so too was this handsome ghoul she'd found here.

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The two women spoke as if they had come from a world far beyond this one, even more so beyond that of which he himself could remember. They reminded him of ethereal beings and even found himself questioning whether they were truly there or not. The golden one spoke moreso in riddle-like sentences while the pale one was more straightforward in her questions - even then, he had no answers for either of them.

“There are stranger things to see.” Strange horse-like things in a cold desert where the sand cuts your paws, everlasting mist in certain regions, black sand beaches, odd formations like he has never seen, stranger than these stones - were the first ones to come to his mind that he had come across in these lands. Things these women would discover all on their own. He wouldn't rob them of such delightful discoveries by spoiling them now.

Of course, he caught that little glance of hers, tossing a cheeky little glance to the pale one, Valeska before stepping forward as Amara pressed her paw against the cold stones. He wouldn't ignore Valeska however, instead, as he sauntered over around the stone in question, circling around it he spoke in a whispy tone of his own. “Perhaps.” Casually he leaned against the stone, curling his lithe body around it while casting a cold warmth of a stare at both of the ladies in his company. “Seems we make of this place as we believe it to be. A second life, purgatory, hell, heaven, everything in between.”

What did he believe this place to be was still uncertain to "Alastor", the jury was still out on his decision.

^^
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"There are stranger things to see." Paws slid down the rock, talons dragging along the granite with an abstract squeal; flint against stone ... strong enough to spark a fire. Amythest eyes twinkled, locking with the hot-and-cold gaze of the ghostly spirit ... Alastor. The tempter, the ghost; he stunk of blood and yet that perfume waded temptingly in the air around her and it did not disgust her, no. It merely intrigued her further. Her body was a coiled spring, ready to explode, her heart thumping suddenly in her chest with an invisible, warm excitement that resonated. It tickled her veins. Or perhaps it was more like poison - for what was it they said about curiosity?

"I should like to see them," she mused gently, voice a soft exhale against the breeze. Her frame turned again toward the vampire who sulked against the cool, moonlit edge of the strange rocks (ageless, handsome); those eyes glittered. Was it a suggestion that they go together? Or perhaps a generalized statement? The intent in her voice was unclear, but the curiosity was clearly painted deep within the confines of those normally elusive eyes.

And then the spectre went on, absently mumbling about purgatory, second life, and the like. Something, everything in-between. It was nothing new to the eerie woman, for her life had always felt this way - a solemn in-between. An illusion of reality, projected by a disturbed brain that had no real ability to interpret real from phantasm. "Imagination... the weapon against reality," she droned on senselessly, head tilting as her gaze drifted away to focus on ... well, nothing, really. She preferred it this way, this vague reality that was not limited by possibilities. Endless endings; choose your own adventure.

There were no limitations in purgatory.

Amaranth turned to Valeska then; the keeper of her reality. The woman who kept her within this strange orbit that she floated. "Purgatory or not, this is our reality now, yes?" And then she cast a side-glance toward the ermine man, lips half coiling in a smile. "Ghosts and all." And then her head tilted in the opposite direction, an eerie metronome. "Perhaps Alastor can explore with us?" Gaze shifted between the two. Please, mom, can we keep him?

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[narrow width=700]Watching the two dance and weave around each other with their long, sinuous forms as elegantly as their subtle words, Valeska felt like she was an audience witnessing a delicate performance by two players - or perhaps a quiet battle, where the winner would never be declared and they continued on agelessly until all turned to dust. They had a peculiar connection, and it was mesmerizing to watch. A flicker of jealousy sparked within her at the impertinent glance he shot her - this stone-carved stranger, alabaster and ethereal, seemed to understand Amaranth's riddle-like way of speaking in a way that she never had, even with all of their time spent together.

It seemed he pleased her so much that the golden woman turned a pleading gaze to her stocky little tether to this reality, and Valeska was reminded once again how she was the stone about her neck that weighed her down. Was it truly for the best? Should she be a grounding force for her, or let Amara go? And she would. Up, up, and far into the ether, where her soul continually drifted - so far away that the small wolf could never follow, trusting her nose, her eyes, the ground beneath her calloused paws, and the unyielding belief that lay in her heart.

She had to admit, she could see the appeal Abaddon held for her friend. He was elegant and coiling and articulate, and watching him move reminded her more and more of a serpent. In the same vein, she wondered if he was dangerous like one as well - would he strike? The white snake moved forward, and as he approached the stone near Amaranth, Valeska felt her muscles tense in readiness. He was hiding something, she was certain; he was dangerous and-

'Perhaps Alastor can explore with us?'

Oh, gods damn it.

She wanted to collect him.

Her first thought was to remind Amaranth that she had left enough of her junk lying in piles about their old home that Valeska had trouble finding her way out the door at night for a quick pee, and stubbed her toes on more strange rocks and creature-skulls and gemstones than she could count; tripping continually on the Lego pieces of her world, she remembered the searing pain and myriad of curses she had called into many a night. Now her friend wanted to collect this thing. She didn't even have anywhere to put him yet!

“"Amara...” she began, ready to lecture her. But she saw the looks they had exchanged, and knew it was of no use. When Amaranth wanted something, there was generally no stopping her, and even worse, this one had legs to move on, and would undoubtedly follow them regardless. She sighed, and knew the decision was already made. “Fine. Yes, ghost-snake, may come if you wish. We are seeking new home anyway, could use extra paws... I suppose.”

'But still watching you, ghost-snake.'[/narrow]
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Catching the interest in the eyes as they glittered, he held the mythical purple of her irises for a moment longer than he possibly should have. Abaddon was beginning to understand their dynamic here, as his own oculars flickered back to the pale socky woman who was staring daggers at him from where she stood.

Despite how well he and the golden beauty were getting along, he would certainly not forget about Valeska either. She could pout and stare from her corner all she wanted. “I could show you.” The words said in a whisper just loud enough for the sulking woman to hear too. Indeed they could go together and he was strongly hinting at it with his slight charming smile and all.

“I believe so.” He answered as truthfully as possible this time regardless of how vague it may be. He had no true answer to this, if anyone did wake up from this place it was beyond his realm of knowledge for now. Whether this place was a dream of a nightmare he still wasn't certain, but the ghoul would make the best of it should this place be his home from here on end. It wasn't all bad after all, this new life was intriguing despite his... abnormally young body he found himself in.

The youthful glow was nice but man was it tough to get a hold of those hormones yet again.

He held his tongue as the two women shot requests at one another, the golden one seemed eager to keep him around - even if his opinion wasn't asked whether or not he wanted to remain with them after this (even if he was teasing about it earlier in this post), which was humourous more than frustrating to him. Quickly enough, an agreement between them was struck.

“Hmmm.” The pale man leaned against the stone fully at this time, almost dramatically so as his curved hugged the cold stone, letting his cheek rub against it lightly, reminiscent of what a feline would do. “Suppose I could.” His loyalty however was still flippant. Here one day, and gone the next. It all depended on how long they kept his interest for, and frankly, he was curious about them for now. “Will you tell me what I am signing my freedom away to?” His vacant eyes searching those of the more grounded woman first for an answer, certainly she had something more of substance to hold on to.

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The back and forth flirtations were far from incognito, and their gazes were hot enough to melt the very rock that desperately tried to remain cool in the moon's blue glow. Her gilded fur combated the icy nature of the other (though she saw that flickering flame that lingered behind those duel-toned lenses), flaming purple irises devouring. Amaranth, somehow, felt both abashed and unreserved all at the same time. Hungry and curious, but patient. "I could show you," the vampire replied, and she could nearly see the way his fangs flashed against the moonlight. A threatening promise that she all-too-much wanted to be a part of. The tangy scent of his metallic breath lingered in the air, entwining with her own lavender scent.

And then there was Valeska, her stocky frame rigid and her iced-over gold eyes shooting daggers at the two of them. Despite the warmth that had flooded her body, Amaranth could still feel those piercingly cold daggers that shot like petulant little laser beams from Valeska's face.

But she would have it no other way.

Amaranth gently turned her gaze back toward Valeska ... but that hunger that lingered there did not disperse. She would happily envelop Valeska in that dutiful love as well ... but at least the smaller woman would be used to Amaranth's unusual social skills by now. The northern woman reluctantly sighed, agreeing to allow Alastor (who had not yet even been asked if he wanted to come, but why wouldn't he?) to travel along with their ragtag gang of New World misfits. Alastor, in response, dramatically considered the idea, coiling himself around the rock and pressing that metallic scent of his into the granite. He was much like a serpent, ever-so calculating and equally as dangerous; his venom as sickly sweet as the words on his tongue. The golden wraith could not imagine this ermine man would spend much of his time sitting still ... it reminded her very much of herself. Constantly in purposeless motion.

At least Valeska was already used to members of her group disappearing for days at a time.

“Will you tell me what I am signing my freedom away to?” Amaranth smiled gently eerily, tilting her golden skull to the side as she digested the question. "Elysium," she responded in typically cryptic fashion, offering him the foreign word as if it were the answer to any question he may have. For Elysium would not steal his freedom, it would grant him it. It would grant him the solace of companionship in an unfamiliar purgatory - all for the price of familial loyalty. She could only hope that Valeska would expand upon the word and give Alastor an actual answer. She left time for a pause for Valeska to elaborate before adding, "don't worry, Valeska would not steal your freedom. And neither would I," unless, of course, you'd like to give it to me sometime. Amythyst eyes glimmered mischievously.

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+2 Formation Points

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[narrow width=700]Like a pot of boiling water over a hot stove, Valeska simmered. Jealousy was a strong word to use (and a sin), but she could swear she felt something close to it just now - it was torture catching the subtle glances they snuck, both equally mysterious as the other, like two sides of the same coin. Light and shadow - or did both belong to the darkness?

Shifting her gaze to Abaddon, she was fairly certain he did, anyway. He looked downright boastful, and as he purred toward Amaranth about showing her something, Valeska had half a mind to show him the back of her teeth. The little wolf held her tongue, however, as he hadn't done anything explicit or obvious to warrant her distaste; she could not rightfully deny him his curiosity in their pack, and truth be told, he might not even be a terrible creature deep down inside.

But he kept looking at Amaranth, and the pot simmered.

At the implied loss of freedom, it took all of her strength not to loudly agree how they wrapped their packmates in thorny vines, throwing them down a dark pit to ensure they never again saw the light of day for as long as they lived. Freedom was not an option. He would perish, trapped and alone.
But her soft white shoulders gave a defeated little shrug. While the notion was entertaining, he had thus far done nothing to deserve that. Valeska rallied and cleared her throat. “Elysium is not strict. Can come and go if like, but still be part of family. Just let know if going away for while and where-ish, so if ever in trouble, can come assist,” she explained, transforming almost immediately back into the exuberant, benevolent leader of a great and noble pack. “We would... be pleased to have you, if you wish it.”

Amaranth's little quip and sly glance toward their new acquaintance did not escape her notice, however, and while it rankled her, she knew she was being unreasonable and let it go. “It will be fun adventure, if nothing else. Would like to see ghost-snake have mushies. Will be first thing we do.” This time her own lips curled into a devilish grin, eyes twinkling as she imagined what visions he might experience - would the gods speak with him, or cast him out like the white demon he would surely be revealed as?

She suddenly looked quite pleased.

“Well, Alastor, it is your call... and if so, shall we go?”
[/narrow]

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+2 Formation Points

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Every now and then those same eyes that lingered on the gold woman would flicker to the palest woman and catch the simmering jealously that bubbled just beneath her placid surface. It was a light simmer, just below a boil as she sat like a delicious meal just waiting for all the flavours to combine perfectly over time. He couldn't tell if she was jealous of him stealing away the attention of Amaranth or if she was perhaps jealous of her companion being his main focus. Regardless of the answer he was amused. Abaddon could work with either reasons behind her anger.

Perhaps some day he could get a taste of that delicious meal simmering within the woman named Valeska. All in due time. Abaddon, now Alastor, was an incredibly patient man after all - knowing that all good things take time to age into perfection.

Amaranth was the first to begin to answer him, reassuring he would be still free to do as he pleased and his gaze fell back on her golden features. Holding those beautiful liquid gems in her eyes before speaking in a hushed tone just loud enough for all to hear, including the silver guardian near by. “Your reassurance is tempting, however there is always a catch with packs.” Isn't there?

And just as he said so, Valeska spoke up and almost immediately confirming his suspicions. “There it is.” Bemused he nearly chuckled as she mentioned needing to know where he was heading off to, to let her know where he was going so that if he would be in danger, they could send in reinforcements. A good excuse, but he knew better (at least he thought he did).

Nevertheless, he was intrigued. Freedom or not to come and go as he pleased, he was stuck with them as intrigue grew. The mention of 'mushies' caught his attention, the word sounding horrendous and disgusting whatever it was but now he needed to know what that was. “Yes, I am yours for the time being Valeska.” He chose his words carefully - for now long could they keep the wraith at their disposal before he vanishes like a dream into the dark night once more? Away into the twilight to be forgotten like all the rest? “Take me on this adventure you speak of.”

^^

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last from me! 8D I'm so excited

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+2 Formation Points

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Amaranth, admittedly, was so preoccupied with Alastor that she missed the sweet tingle of jealously that briefly radiated forth from Valeska's silver skin. And oh, how she would have liked to have known that Valeska could feel such a ... sinful ... emotion. For jealousy indicated desire. Jealousy indicated intent. Did it not? And yet, no, Amaranth's deep purple gazed expanded and contracted with curiosity and enigma as she bore into those dual-toned lenses of the ghostly man. Hungry for more, to understand a man that could not be understood. For Alastor was the mysterious promise of a life that was far from normal ... he was unusual, he was dangerous, and he was temptation ... wrapped into a lovely little package.

His presence promised to unleash a part of Amaranth that had previously been dormant.

And she was hungry.

Previous experience should have taught her that her hunger only got her in trouble, and yet it was such a powerful sensation that arose so rarely that she could not bear to suppress the wild nature of the sensation. The edges of her fangs seemed to tingle, but she pressed the sensation away with a patient swallow as Valeska elaborated on Elysium, still somehow welcoming to the vampire on their doorstep. There was danger in inviting him in, and yet Valeska had taken that risk with Amaranth as well. She seemed to collect shadowed creatures, to guard them under her glowing silver wings despite their odd intricacies.

Valeska promised protection, family, adventure ... and the final selling point, mushies. The divine drug. And Alastor finally responded with a gruff: "Yes, I am yours for the time being Valeska." Amaranth's gaze shifted finally off of Alastor to Valeska, peering into the depths of those heated golden irises to try to gauge her emotion now. Too bad that the jealousy had already fled. All she caught was the very end of a rather alluringly devious smile that traced the edges of her dark lips. The fur along Amaranth's nape tingled with an unusual sensation as she gazed into those golden embers for that sweet, simple, short moment. And then a smile pulled her own lips upward into an equally as devious grin. “Take me on this adventure you speak of.”

Amaranth felt no need to say anything more, her heavy purple gaze speaking volumes as she dismissed herself with a slow wave of her head. Her body turned, that golden tail flicking behind her as she began to walk north ... away from the granite tombstones that had birthed their little vampire. Toward their home, the respite where certainly Alastor and Amaranth would give Valeska every reason to regret her generosity.

---

Exit Amaranth.

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