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RP:Daermon & Brennia Series

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A collection of stories involving Brennia and Daermon.

Monsters Come Out To Say "Merry Meet"

Summary: This is Brennia and Daermon's third time meeting, the first time was cordial and friendly while the second time was met with an offer from the Avian to the vampire to make him her pet where he would be taken care of. I mean, a place to sleep, eat, drink like all good little pets.


Whine Cellar
Traversing your way around and around in the winding staircase might leave you a little apprehensive to step onto the glass floor at the bottom, as it looks void of solidity and gives you the feeling of flying over the clouds that drift through Hollow. This wine cellar is fully stocked with any wine you could imagine from Chardonnay to Viognier and Cabernet Sauvignon to Zinfandel all bottles neatly tucked into diamond shaped nooks which are carved into these marble walls. It is a beauty to behold, but if you wandered down here on the false promise that there are mountains of gold below by reason of the illumination, then you are sadly mistaken. The room is only clad in a thin layer of gold. Find what you please and if it's harder drink you seek I would recommend the cabinet with the alchemical snake above it holding extra stilled scotch with light citrus, brine and smoky sweetness on the tongue. Maybe try the cabinet with the dragon depicted above it containing specially distilled whisky offering a rich burst of flavor, with a palate of soft honey and deliciously nutty toffee (strong stuff here, I do not recommend to those faint of heart.) Possible vampire? Try the bureau with the image of a bat offering many liquors with rare types of bloods mixed in them, I would recommend steering clear of the brandy in this one though. Pay no mind to the Osmium shackles attached to a desolate corner of the cellar, you don't want to try them out, do you?  Venturing deeper through the maze of wine racks you will come across deep purple drapes with a golden willow tree and air symbol sewn into the fabric for it's an enchantress's corner to dabble in her apothecary. Here you will find a myriad of any and every ingredient known to all Hollowites, rarity no issue, but the glamorous sight of all the decadent potion bottles against the golden cellar may entice one to give any a try to just see what might happen…. I dare you.



Brennia got back into Hollow a few days ago after a failed attempt at making the long travel back to her home to find answers on how to stop or control this dark power which seems to be slowly taking her over. For now it's subdued with plenty of wine and herbs, as usual; she's quite relaxed. Sitting in her wine cellar and a bottle half empty and a few empties strewn about the glass floor. Her gaze seemed empty as she stares at a family portrait of her family, stunning mother equaling her own beauty, two handsome men, and herself while all adorning the same tattoo pattern peaking around heir royal strappings. Her eyes locked on their image and this smaller, single portrait next to it. Framing a man who looked to be of no relation to the Smyth family, his own unique tattoo insignia peeking from under the collar of his royal garb and he wore the same crown as her father in the latter portrait. She sat in her own sorrow with her hair unkempt and satin night gown... Seems she's been down there all day so far.


Daermon had received his key and...invitation of a sort. He'd made his way to the cloud palace a few days after, thinking to look in on his keeper. Up and up and up, until finally he entered the large place, whistling softly, truly it was a sight to behold. Looking about and finding it empty, he moves on, from room to room, even checking the bedroom, which he found his key worked there too. Finally, he walked down the wine cellar steps, finding Brennia unkempt, unclean and fairly mucked up. "Well now...this seems ill befitting you." he says, his booted feet stepping out onto the clear floor, duster dragging along behind him.


Brennia didn't startle. She knew it was safer for everyone if she just always expected company. An awful thought came over her 'A pet.... Which one?...' Once her elongated pointed ears pick up on the vampire she smirked for a flash, how she loved her toothy pets. "Befitting... Yeah. She'd say the same." A slender pointer finger aims at the older woman in the portrait that her eyes have yet to shift from. "She would have to turn it into some impossible riddle." She hiccups "... Every time." She might not make sense being as buzzed as she is, but she didn't care. "The bat cabinet." She points out the Glass doored cabinet  with the bat insignia on the top which holds his favorite brandy within it. Still her gaze unwavering from the pictures. "I take care of my 'pets'... So a place to sleep, eat, drink in all its decadence." Her silly voice was flat, void of its usual flirtatious warmth.


Daermon moved closer to where she was, kneeling down beside her. "No, thank you mistress, but I'm quite fine. Come on, let's get you up to your room Brennia. No need to sit here and stare at a painting. No one here to judge you. Only me and I don't judge, or make riddles." he gently said, hoping she'd let him take her to her room. She needed a bath, to sleep, likely to eat and something other than wine.


Brennia ran her fingers through her hair a little in attempts to smooth it down to no avail. "They are all dead because of me... Not to mention that one poor human..." Her guilt ran deep and as she starts to remember more and more of what happened the tattoo that covers the majority of her, starts to slither as if some entity separate from her dewy caramel skin. She scowls softly before her hand finds the herbs and she takes a lengthy drag from the long necked obsidian pipe. "My chef will come for us when dinner is done."


Daermon noticed the tattoo and it's movement but didn't comment. They all had dark sides and secrets, he was honest when he said he didn't judge. "Brennia, look at me bird." he says, gently touching her shoulders. He had been a pet a short time, but he still considered her a friend at the least, even if they barely knew each other. If she looked, she'd find those glacial eyes calming, understanding. "We all have innocents on our soul birdy, but that doesn't mean we have to sit down in the dark and wallow. You need a bath, maybe some sleep, some food. Let me help a little." he offers again, reaching a cool hand out to her.


Brennia finally lets her gaze meet the vampires and for a moment she felt okay even off there was a darkness inking her striking blue optics. All she did was nod, take his hand and if he allowed helped herself stand to her natural six foot two inch height. For a moment she would stand there holding his hand until she felt the ink start to slither from her skin into his as of feeding off him and she gently lets go of him in hopes he had not noticed the burning sensation it brings. There was someone clearing their throat and her head snaps to see Zachael at the last step and offer something in a foreign accent (French sounding) accompanied by a bow. She nods while grabbing a bottle of fresh wine and heading toward the winding stairs, "Hungry?" Her quested was directed toward him though she kept her gaze averted, feeling like a monster anymore.


Daermon had noticed, hut he'd left his hand until she removed hers. One day he'd actually ask her about it. But not today. She was too far gone today. "Always." he admitted, looking after her with slightly glowing glacial hues as he turned, then moved to follow her.


Brennia's Miniature Castle
After finding your way through the topiary garden it would only be fitting to come upon a building which looks like a section taken right out of a castle in the same style as all of Schezerade, in all it's decadence; marble forming the entirety of the large home accented with gold and platinum in which you'll have to cross over a short glass bridge to reach. The front door is welcoming for all shapes and sizes that are the citizens of Hollow and spans a great distance in it's solid French Door of a design. Opening it up one might be perplexed at the ability for the home to hold such music coming from the main room there, provided the owner of the home is present. Once immersed, the eyes might be stolen by the gaping cathedral ceilings above spotted by gold and platinum in which encircles mini glowing stones to mimic the night sky, but beauty is not what the ceiling is for as it carries one's voice in the ear most pleasing fashion. The walls of the room have shelves carved into the marble upon nearly every wall of this vast oval-shaped room, but the shelves were carved only into small squares, each holding scrolls to nearly any song someone might wish to hear and it should be clear now that a bard lives here; explains the marvelous white-wood, gold-accented, concert grand piano in the middle of this large room. Nearing further into the tiny castle one's nostrils might pick up on the scent of mouth watering food being cooked wafting from the kitchen which is north of the main room and it also holds a small, but elegant dining area as well. A comfortable little nook is off the kitchen for her chef, Zachaël, to reside in for his cooking is to die for and a must to have him as a live-in cook. Beyond that nook there is a winding staircase which travels below and is illuminated as if gold is to be kept down there. If you wish to stay and listen to the bard or wait for her to emerge there are luxurious sofas strew about with the softest throw blankets and plushy cushions, but be careful; an unsettling feeling may overcome you as your eyes spot a locked door to the west with an outreaching design in onyx stone overlay which seems to be inking over into the pristine luxury you’ve found yourself in. It's as if the room beyond holds a darkness that's attempting to leak out into this little slice of heaven… Better just leave that door alone.


Brennia wasn't sure what he meant and she was no mind reader so she just flatly asked, "For blood or for food?" As they emerged into the kitchen she sat at a random spot of her grand table, every place was set so it left the vampire to choose wherever he wished to sit. Once she got comfortable, removing the wine glass to place the whole bottle there instead and her dinner place before her. Ratatouille, seems simple enough, but Zachael her is a well cultured chef and it was made with a kick and special care. "Looks marvelous." She attempted to sound grateful, but it just came across sarcastic and dry.


Daermon sat across from her, concern evident on his face. This was so different than the bird he'd met. "Both." he admitted. He thanked the chef as he laid food before him. He kept his eyes on Brennia as he began to eat. "You have a lovely home. Nice to see that it's finally finished." he sad, idly making conversation. They didn't really know anything about each other. As the chef exited and it was just them again, he would attempt to meet her eyes. "What's the tattoo that wriggles and moves?" he asks.


Brennia had no problem meeting his gaze, "Thank you. Reminds me of home. I spent enough time trying to run from it." She rearranged her own silverware for a moment to the proper etiquette fashion and her posture was perfectly rigid like she was sitting with royalty... Well, she is. "I know you didn't ask, but they were my family... In the picture." For now the tattoo is subsided, "It's the Smyth De Vere family tattoo arteficem  design. Our own artist for our own mark. I just happen to have one that travels over nearly every inch of my body..." She cut herself a proper bite size and allowed an awkward silence, "Mine was tampered with. The ink was made by some sort of alchemist or apothecary."


Daermon nodded as he ate, watching her. "I had surmised they were your family. You can see it in the looks." He watched her as he cut another piece free and placed it in his mouth. "So what does yours do now that it's been tampered with?" he asks, seeing it as a good time to ask about things as they were being more open than usual.


Brennia drank down some more wine after another few bites as the darker corners of her mind where trying to get her to stop sharing so damn much. 'Just shut up..' she thought to herself before she explained, "From what the late Count and I uncovered in my family records the arteficem got his ink from some alchemist or apothecary who crafted the ink… The only ingredient we found what was Enchanted Elder Maple, but there must have been more." She hopes he wont ask of the 'late Count' but she knows it's unavoidable.


Daermon seemed to be very intrigued by her story as he'd stopped eating to listen, sipping at his own wine as his glacial hues took her in. "Who is this count?" he asks after a stretched silence. He wasn't sure if it was someone he'd know or not.


Brennia let her eye contact break for this so she may tentatively watch her tattoo on her arm, she suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore while she calmly explained, "He took over as leader of Island Vere, where I come from, after I ran away and my family were murdered. He was a true friend and in my absence he was the one helping me find answers on how to control this power. Until…" She relaxed back into the chair and a soft smirk attempted to pull at a corner of her mouth while he crossed on leg over the other. Once her gaze finally met the vampire again he'd easily be able to tell she lost the battle as her deep blue optics were now pitch black. Once she spoke again he would hear her as if she was speaking directly into his ear in a soft silky whisper, "Until I had to kill him…" All the while every bit of her movements were calm, calculated and fluid, she's never one for dramatics even as this darker side of her emerges.


Daermon was not surprised to see this side of her. The one hinted at, the one she kept control over most of the time. "I see we have more in common than I thought," he said, sitting back in his chair and steepling his fingers before him. "Both of us with a hidden darker side beneath the attractive masks we wear. So, since we're being so open and honest Brennia, tell me, did this man deserve to die?"


Brennia sighed as if guilty, but one could easily tell it was farce, "I guess not, but he was making me weak… All struck by cupid and far too great in the sack… I eventually got bored of it and had him killed… Okay, maybe I could have been a little more tactful about it, but making me kill him while in my right mind needed to happen… You see, guilt and anger keep this," She lifts a hand to inspect the swirling tattoo pattern dancing freely and her gaze strikes through the man again while she continued, "Alive…" It would seem this side of her is in fact still Brennia, but just the darker side of her as if all the bad concentrated in one.


Daermon's gaze narrowed. He didn't care about the man she killed, or anyone she might for that matter. He was a killer himself some of the time. "And why would you wish to keep it alive?" he asks, curious as to what it may or may not do for her. He reached forward, picking up his glass of wine, swirling it then taking a sip. Not as good as blood or whisky, but not bad for wine.


Brennia was softly humming in his turn to talk and ask questions and when her massive wings shift to a more accessible position he could notice the wings don't just look like they are Onyx shaded, they appear to be carved out of onyx stone. She plucks a large feather sharp as an arrow head and toys with it a little causing a small puncture in her fingertip. A small bead of her own blood slips its way down the feather weapon and in the blink of an eye she whips the sharp object toward the vampire, not aimed to maim, but to show off a little. It would go soaring past his head possibly slicing through a lock of hair in the process. "Why not?" She answers his question with a question and a wink.


Daermon's nostrils flared at the scent of her blood, his pupils dilating a bit. As she whipped the feather at him, he didn't move or flinch, able to follow and track the movement, seeing it wouldn't hit more than his hair as the few pieces fell from him to the floor. He shrugged. "As I said, I don't know really what they do. I assume they're the reason your wings are like that, which that alone would be reason enough to do it. So tell me Brennia...how many others do you kill for such power? Is that the end of all your...pets?" he asks, eyes unconsciously following the blood. Too long since he'd fed...far to long when dealing with someone like Brennia.


Brennia tilts her head to one side, "Don't worry, I won't be hurting my pets unless they want me to…" She thinks of the recent time she had with one, how fun it was like a little game of cat and mouse. She stood herself up and sauntered her way around the table to him, leaning herself to halfway sit on the table after pushing his plate aside uncaring of where the contents landed. "I thought you were… Hungry…" Her pricked fingertip traced its way over his lips softly. "One last demonstration." Her hand held out to him seemingly, but he would see the tattoo pattern start to siphon it's way from her skin to his, wrapping around his neck and then materializing there as a collar attached to a black chain leash and she gives it a playful tug before it dissipates like smoke; not without leaving a stinging sensation wherever it touched like a burn.


Daermon had watched her saunter over...how could he not? Her body begged for his sight, called to his hands and mouth and as she brought the pricked finger to his lips, he stiffened, letting out a soft moan as he licked her blood away, the collar causing a soft gasp, then meeting her eyes. "And what is that demonstration to show me?" he asks, glacial hues burning with hunger, lust and a bit of his rebellious nature.


Brennia meant for the collar to be the demonstration, but if the showing off wasn't enough for him she could always go a little further with the magic. She hums softly, calming and hypnotic in nature as its just a distraction as her fingertip now caressed over his hand and the tattoo spills out onto his skin once more giving him his own unique design until he would feel his hand go numb and the digits now alien to him start tapping along to her singing, she is sure a man of his power could make it stop once he caught attention of what was happening. "This… Is why I want to keep it alive." Her finger snaps and the tattoo vanishes like smoke and appears back upon her skin. "Come now pet," She offers and a sing song manner, one of lesser mind would heed every vowel with the powers enhancing her bard magic. "It's time for a treat…" She made her way into her room to await him, and he could either flee this craziness or drive right in.


Daermon thought for the briefest second after she left, after her other demonstration then moved to his feet and followed. Everything was dangerous and most interactions with people had one form of craziness or another, so why not? he thought to himself. He followed the birdsong into her chambers once more taking that leap of faith that things would work out. After all, he had the impression that if she'd wanted to kill him, she would have tried already, when he first found her down in the wine cellar at such a low point.


What Pretty Wings You Have

Brennia's Miniature Castle
After finding your way through the topiary garden it would only be fitting to come upon a building which looks like a section taken right out of a castle in the same style as all of Schezerade, in all it's decadence; marble forming the entirety of the large home accented with gold and platinum in which you'll have to cross over a short glass bridge to reach. The front door is welcoming for all shapes and sizes that are the citizens of Hollow and spans a great distance in it's solid French Door of a design. Opening it up one might be perplexed at the ability for the home to hold such music coming from the main room there, provided the owner of the home is present. Once immersed, the eyes might be stolen by the gaping cathedral ceilings above spotted by gold and platinum in which encircles mini glowing stones to mimic the night sky, but beauty is not what the ceiling is for as it carries one's voice in the ear most pleasing fashion. The walls of the room have shelves carved into the marble upon nearly every wall of this vast oval-shaped room, but the shelves were carved only into small squares, each holding scrolls to nearly any song someone might wish to hear and it should be clear now that a bard lives here; explains the marvelous white-wood, gold-accented, concert grand piano in the middle of this large room. Nearing further into the tiny castle one's nostrils might pick up on the scent of mouth watering food being cooked wafting from the kitchen which is north of the main room and it also holds a small, but elegant dining area as well. A comfortable little nook is off the kitchen for her chef, Zachaël, to reside in for his cooking is to die for and a must to have him as a live-in cook. Beyond that nook there is a winding staircase which travels below and is illuminated as if gold is to be kept down there. If you wish to stay and listen to the bard or wait for her to emerge there are luxurious sofas strew about with the softest throw blankets and plushy cushions, but be careful; an unsettling feeling may overcome you as your eyes spot a locked door to the west with an outreaching design in onyx stone overlay which seems to be inking over into the pristine luxury you’ve found yourself in. It's as if the room beyond holds a darkness that's attempting to leak out into this little slice of heaven… Better just leave that door alone.



Daermon :: It had been some days since the vampire had last seen the bird. Their last meeting had ended relatively well for both of them. He was concerned about the state he'd found her in though and soon enough returned to her home in the sky to check on her. 

Brennia was struggling to keep the darkness inside of her from surfacing as it's been a while since she let the darker side of her to play. She was just playing at her piano in attempts to play out a calming melody, but trying to use her bard magic on herself was always a waste of time. Her vices were still at the ready in case a visitor came to and it seems she would actually need it today as her attention was taken by Daermon, "Well, hello handsome." She attempted to make herself stop playing, but her hands continued to play anyway as the tattoo started to gently sway atop her skin in continuing the calming tune, attempting to use the bards magics on the vampire.

Daermon could feel the slight subtle intrusions, the gentle pull of the bards magic and thru a shear force of will, well, that and having had to learn to fight of psychic assaults in his time as a slave to the mind flayers, managed to shake it off. "Hello gorgeous. Trying to ply my mind already? It doesn't take magic you know. Stripping naked would more than suffice." he teases, though his eyes are watching her carefully. 

Brennia's hands play some unsavory combination of notes before standing herself up, she was without shoes, but still six foot two and she sauntered her mostly clothed way over to him. "Or better, yet." Her tri-voice taunts the vampire right before a hand reached out to caress the side of his face while the ink slithered out and played it's own unique pattern onto the vampires skin. He might catch his reflection in the castle windows and in seeing her beautiful features without any markings but her scars will dumbfound most, but also seem lacking in a sense. The tattoos that imprint itself onto the vampires skin would attempt to start to move his extremities on their own. His own mind connection with her would offer him to see the pull of her powers enhanced by the ink and her attempt a resistance. A thought leaks through the cracks to his mind 'I swear I'm not doing this…' but its too late. The ink would be working in attempts to making the vampire remove Brennia's cloths himself, but that wouldn't be too hard as he already wants to do that.

Daermon :: One moment she is lightly caressing his face, the next he is removing her shirt, her under garments exposed as he stops, confusion playing along his face. "What is..." another lost moment, in the next he's atop her, claws out and shredding what covered her from the waist down. His body quaking as he fights the alien intrusion. If only Barnabus had been with him this day. "What's happening?" he asks thru gritted teeth, glacial eyes looking down into Brennia's. 

Brennia's ink snaps back on her own body and covers all of her parts, "Just a small part of what I can do." Her multitude of voices singing their way into his mind just as her feet force the vampire off of her. "Come now my pet." She calls over her shoulder as she was quick on her feet once more as if in the blink of an eye. Her wings were curved out slightly reminding one of a bird in an attacking mode as she saunters her way out to the Topiary Garden so that her home doesn’t get busted up as this was about to get messy. Assuming her pet would follow she would be waiting outside with an onyx stone feather sent soaring beside the vampires head.


Topiary Garden
Just like the covered walkway that leads to this garden and the other garden beyond that walkway, this topiary garden appears to be tended to with the utmost care. Shrubs and trees are carefully clipped so they’re shaped into various animals --winged creatures, mostly-- and even a few people of varying race. Children can be seen playing hide-and-seek among the massive plant sculptures, filling the tranquil garden with childish laughter.


Daermon :: Though it took more will than he would have liked to admit, soon enough the vampire had shaken off the rest of the bards slippery magic. He'd never mentioned it to her before, but he despised bardic magic, or any kind that had the ability to get in and mess with your head. He'd had enough people do that in his long life. He'd gotten a vague impression of what she had in mind as she'd left him. He rose to his feet, removing his duster and shirt, his own torso scarred with far more than she might have suspected in the dark when they were coupling. As an onyx stone feather soared past his head, he smirked, tying his hair back in a ponytail. 


Brennia chuckles softly at the vampire and in a moment she was nearly pressed against him, "So many scars…." All the scars reminded her of Alariek, "I like them…" Her black sharpened fingernail trails over some softly before digging it in slightly possibly causing some blood to draw before a wicked smile spread across her lips showing now pointed teeth. "It's a shame I only use my bard magic to convey emotions and feelings when I can easily subdue and take advantage…. Don’t you agree?" She was circling the vampire all the while allowing her now soft wings to caress the man, "No weapon?" Her wings harden to onyx on more and scratch slightly on the vampires back and she pulls another feather to hold against his side, "How unfortunate." Her singsong taunt whispers in his ear.


Daermon kept still as she circled him, letting her cut him, the wounds dripping blood for a moment, then sealing closed again. "They are distinguishing." he says. His shoulder blades were the worse, a mass of crisscrossing whip marks. "Each one earned to forge me into a weapon. I don't scar anymore." he says with a soft laugh. "And no, I don't agree. I don't like people attempting to control my mind. And no, no weapon...I am one." he replies, turning away in a spin, putting some distance between himself and her. "Are we really about to do this?" he asks, cracking his neck to the side as those eyes continued to watch her, keeping a few feet between them now.


Brennia mocks a surprised look, "Why didn't I think of that…" A couple more feather weapons fly toward the vampire as she muses out, "That is up to you my pet." She is sure he would doge the projectiles as he dashes into the maze of topiary statues to offer an enticing chase. She pulls her wings close to her curves as it is a bit more concealed and stealth-like, but she is sure she will be found out soon enough and he would feel how exhilarating this game was becoming to her through their connection.


Daermon snatches the feathers out of the air rather than dodge and would have returned them to their mistress, but she was surprisingly fast and darting into the topiary maze. He didn't want to hurt her...much. Perhaps a little for invading his mind, though he was unsure if that had been entirely her. Soon enough he was following her scent like a wolf, moving slower than he could, but only because he was being cautious. He didn't know if she would actually harm him much in her slightly unhinged state. "Come out Birdy, let's have a little chat..." he would have been lying if he had said he wasn't feeling the excitement of the hunt, his glacial eyes having gone black, his mouth full of fangs now as his true vampiric face was revealed. 


Brennia's giggle would come from behind him, but the voice right in his ear, she's a bard she can throw her voice, "How look at my pretty pet now." She was liking this side of him more and more as she popped out in front of him with some of her tattoos missing in which turned into a chain leash which is attached to a tattoo made choker around his neck and she offers a hard yank, "Lets chat then." The yank might have brought his face close to hers and her tongue snakes out to lick his cheek and chuckle lowly waiting for him to strike back.


Daermon :: She'd wrapped her magic around his throat, the yank forward bringing his face to hers as she licked him, which only made his thoughts turn more to that bestial side. He returned the favor by catching her throat with a clawed him, black eyes drilling into hers as he mimicked her lick. "What are we chatting about pretty birdy?" his voice held more of that slight cajun accent, though they seemed to echo slightly as well. She didn't smell of fear...which confused the predatory side of him. He was obviously excited, both able to feel the other thru their bond. 


Brennia was squirming in his grasp, but not in attempts to break free as his actions were showing off those pointed teeth with a wide grin she was obviously having much fun. Her own blackened gaze piercing to his soul as if a reflection and her hair was sort of floating on it's own and reaching out to caress the vampire's face in attempts to relax him for a short moment while her tattoo leash dissipated to his hand to start to work on his fingers and force him to release his grip on her.


Daermon was perhaps physically stronger than her. An elder vampire, hundreds of years old and supernaturally strong, fast. But as her leash evaporated, he released her throat, letting her stumble back a bit as he released the tension holding her there. "Is this what you wanted? To see the monster under the mask?" he asks, watching her. Thru their bond, she would feel the hunger he felt...and not just for her blood. 


Brennia liked he anger she felt and it was only feeding the Ink and she advances herself toward him again to press her form against his while she wasn't afraid of this monster at all, "It's glorious." She goes in as if she was going to kiss him, but quickly changes coarse for his shoulder to sink her pointed teeth into. And he could have possibly jerked away, but she wanted to taste the monster and she found it strange he hasn't tried to strike her back, yet.


Daermon had a tight control over the predatory side of his nature, though when she sank her teeth into him, he couldn't resist, couldn't stop himself as his hands grabbed her, his fangs piercing her throat as he clamped own, her hot blood spilling into his mouth, warming his flesh and blood instantly, which might feel odd to the woman who had the cool, then hot blood in her mouth. 


Brennia pushed the primal vampire off of her with an odd amount of force and a hard slap might land on the man's face, but there was a mocking blood smirk on her face while she was slowly backing up still waiting for a fight. A soft chuckle escapes her when she spreads the blood down her neck and her own wound trickling down her body. Something odd starts to happen as the ink seems to gather the blood back up to her wound and clot it for her. "Tasty beastly pet…." Her wings puff out again as if in an attack stance.


Daermon growled low in his throat, a sound a mortal man could not accomplish. The slap had hurt his pride more than actually hurt. He watched her stance change and moved into a fighting stance himself. It seemed this was what she wanted. Daermon closed the distanced between them in the blink of an eye, sweeping low with a heel, seeking to knock her feet out from under her. 


Brennia simply thrust her wings with a hop and she was lofted to the air and a shove hits his chest, nearly his face, from her foot and with that she flew up into the air twirling through marvelous loups. More feather daggers were soaring down at the vampire with glorious speed and she didn't care where they landed as if she could do harm to such a powerful creature. Even if she managed to she was safe to assume the better side of herself would heal him, beards can heal, too. She wonders if this vampire had the gift of flight as she only heard lore of it.


Daermon had taken the kick, rolling backwards a full spin till his feet were back under him. It was an interesting fight, both being in the others head in fits and bursts. As she spun the feather daggers at him, he danced. There was really no other word for it, spinning this way and that. graceful as any dancer as he plucked the ones he couldn't dodge from the air, sending them spinning back. His eyes followed her closely, doing calculations on the fly of where, when, how much force was needed, enough to make a wizard jealous as he timed it and leapt up into the air at her. A shift of focus though as her thought of flight hit him, the thought back one of profound...sadness? A deep sadness and grief, a longing for the sky...perhaps later she would ask what that had meant. For now, a fist was rapidly coming her way. 


Brennia was attempting to doge the fist, but he clips a stone wing, maybe hurt him more than her; hurt her nonetheless. A soft grunt and she lands on her feet like a cat and returns in kind to him, fist coming rapidly a few times as if in rhythm half heartedly trying to get one to land wherever, face, chest, gut, whatever. She shifts her footing to jab at a side and possibly land one there, grunting all the while and to someone just listening it might sound like she was getting some sort of pleasure from it.


Daermon :: Funnily enough as he struck her, it had hurt him, but as they both landed and she returned in kind, the first few punches missing, but he couldn't avoid them all, taking a few. It would feel like punching a brick wall, which might come as a shock to her, as she'd felt his flesh beneath her own and it hadn't felt that hard before. Hard from muscle, but now it seemed inhumanly so. But then she might notice that he no longer blinked, no longer breathed...and that was is. Along with the mask, he'd stopped all the little motions that living people do and take for granted. When he wasn't moving, he was completely still. He dodged, caught, deflected and took her hits, her being so close that he returned plenty of his own, some to connect likely, some not to. He didn't spare her anymore than she him, blows aimed for face, chest, stomach. The only thing that he did do, was temper how hard he hit. It would still be hard, but not as hard as it could be. He had a fang filled smile on his face, seeming to be enjoying the whole affair. 


Brennia backed up a bit as her knuckles started to hurt and some of her own blood was trickling from her blood stained lips and she takes a few deep breaths while wiping the blood with the back of her hand. "Us monsters… Need to come out to play sometimes…" She had no inkling this being was so akin to her own struggles, they didn't have the same background as to how they got to be how they were. She was groomed to be a ruler with sparring classes in martial arts:flight:battle, foreign languages to learn, proper etiquette to memorize and boring politics to keep up with all for the throne which was forced upon her. It seemed her darker side wanted more than a fight now, "Let's see how these monsters play indoors now." With that she saunters her way into the castle and to her room fully expecting this primal being to take the offer and show her some dominance now.


Hours Later


Bren's Den
Oh, you have a key? Congratulations! You will find that although this room is the opposite of the warmth you just left, it isn't lacking in the same opulence. Her room is conjoined by it's own luxurious powder room and it is dark with it's thin layer of onyx stone accented with gold covering the marble. The entire atmosphere offers a warm invite to seduce the senses. Upon stepping in closer; don't trip over the large white wolf rug with an unsettling nearly human glare (but what a beast he must have been.)  Are you friendly enough to await the Avain in her large downy bed colored in the deepest red blankets and view blocking canopy ? If not, there are sofas by the wet bar which holds an odd number of bloods from different races, Avian wine, black-fire wine, and specially stilled whisky. Through the circular stained glass door, which depicts a rather gruesome scene,  you might find yourself in a certain island paradise on this vast balcony; warm bottomless sand, a few palm trees and a second wet bar which now holds extra stilled scotch, strawberry wine, Avian champagne and orange juice. If you lounge on one of the hammocks out there, relax and have a drink, you will find it does really feel like an island with the sun so bright and the seemingly endless view of blue.



Daermon was toweling off. It had been a fun few hours after the fight. The time had been amazing, messy, bloody and fantastic. They'd moved to clean up after. both reverting back to normal...their monsters tucked away for now. "You've still never told me exactly what that other piece of you is." he says, turning his muscular form towards her. 


Brennia grabs herself wine and him some brandy from the mini bar in her room as she wraps herself in one of the clean sheets to sit herself on the sofa seeing as the bed was a bloody mess now. She takes a deep breath and feels a little better actually even though she's bruised up a bit, she knows she will have a few days of peace now after that. "Well, it's still me, but I'm just watching the events unfold and unable to do anything about it. The ink which makes up my tattoo was made with some sort of dark magic and it only started bothering me recently since my Awakening. Every Smyth goes through an awakening, but seeing as my family was murdered I had no one to turn to in order to help me through this." If he asks more questions she will answer and with that she hands him a glass of very rich tasting brandy.


Daermon sips at the brandy, wrapping the towel about his waist as he sits down beside her. "I see." he had his share of bruises, though they would fade quickly. "I would like to help...anything I can do." he says, letting a hand lazily stroke down the feathers of her wing. "What is the awakening?" he asks, curious. 


Brennia crosses one leg over the other as she replies, "It's a point in my families' blood line where at a certain age our power doubles… Some cases triples… It's actually a violent time and a choice between lightness and darkness. My brother went through it even though he is younger than me, but it happens as different ages for each of us. My family kept this secret from the record books and the only thing I found out was how crooked the arteficiem tattoo was that did my ink-work. He was given tampered ink in which gives life to the ink and the only ingredient… Quillon and I could find out was enchanted maple." She could barely say his name.

Daermon didn't know all the names, but he listened intently and perhaps unlike some, genuinely seemed to care and want to help. "You have any assistance I can give. Even if it's something like what we just did." he said, his smile causing a split lip to begin to trickle blood again. "I envy you a bit..." he says softly, the bead of blood forming unknown on his lip, his fingers still playing thru her feathers. 


Brennia offered a quick smirk, "That might not be a bad idea seeing as there really wasn't much I could do to actually harm you." With that she quirks a brow at the blood on his lip as she reached over to dab gently with the sheet, "Envy? How's that?" She then starts to remember the feeling of guilt and sadness when she took flight and is assuming that’s what he will reveal to her, so she declines asking that question for now anyway.


Daermon looks down as she does, the split having closed over again. "Thank you. And yes, you could. I'm strong, but not invincible. I burn through a lot of power like that." he says, smiling again as he takes a drink. "I had wings once." he says, thinking back all the years. "Sometimes, for different reasons, vampires have been known to grow wings."


Brennia sips on her wine before asking, "Once? What happened?" She remembers the guilt he felt and a familiar flutter in her stomach as she knows it's what makes her power only stronger, "And when I am like that don't give me the satisfaction of that guilt. It's what this power feeds off of… It's why it made me kill Quillon." She averted her stunning blues away this time, feeling shame and still guilt, but that wasn't controllable by her.


Daermon set a gentle hand on her leg, but didn't comment. "I will be sure not to allow you guilt during those times then." he promises. "I had wings very similar to yours...Feathers, not the bat like ones revenants get. I had them for a long time, knew the taste of the sky..." he thinks for a moment, deciding to tell her the whole truth. "Do you know of the former archmage, Rheven?" 

Brennia was interested in his tale, "I bet they were marvelous…" She shifted herself a little more towards him now and bringing her gaze to meet his, "I do not know him… Tell me about him." She drinks down some more wine while bringing one of her now soft wings towards him in which reflect hues of deep blues and forest greens, something someone could get lost in upon offering that favorite scent of his to him.


Daermon moved a bit closer to her as well, nuzzling against her wing as he spoke. "He was...not a good man. A vampire. Around the same age as me. He was a powerful mage, the Archmage of hollow...and I got on his bad side by sleeping with his daughter...and wife...at the same time." he admitted with a weak smile. "Needless to say, that rather...ruffled him." 


Brennia scoffs softly, "All you did was sleep with his wife and daughter? How trivial… I actually don't understand relationships in that sense. Our attractions are malice towards the ones we love, so why do some beings get so upset when the other isn't monogamous… Honestly, I get a little bored with just one person after a while… I tried it." A soft shrug, "Didn't work out, but most of anyone I've been with on a serious level has perished in some way." She felt she was offering a bit too much there so she asks, "So, what did this guy do to you? Is he still around?"

Daermon listened and agreed with most of her points. "I don't understand it either. But step mother and daughter seemed happy. Regardless, we fought many times, each time one of us escaping the other. He was stronger in magic, I physically. During one particularly brutal fight...he managed to set my wings ablaze with hellfire...they didn't grow back..." he said softly, sadly shaking his head. 


Brennia fell silent for a long moment, she actually knew her wings would be lost to her by the Avian community if they found she's lain with vampires, and a lycan or two, and possibly even the fact of the feline as well, but dragon not so much, possibly applauded for that one. "But is he still around?" There was something a bit darker in her tone of asking, as if she could do anything about it anyway… Or could she? She runs her fingers gently through his hair, "If you wish I could take you on a flight one day, but if that seems a little feminine for you than I understand … Although, I've seen my ink materialize before me like a figure and move things around, maybe one day when I learn how to control this I can form some temporary wings for you to take a joy ride with…"


Daermon smiled, nuzzling her wing again, then kissing her cheek. "No...not too feminine. I would like that." he says. He shrugs, meeting her eyes. "I don't know what happened to him. One day, he vanished. I would have preferred to kill him...but good riddance." he says, standing and reaching down a hand to her. "Up for another round?" he asks, eyes twinkling with mischief. It seemed he wanted to lose himself in her for a time, forget about his loss.


Monsters Comparing Scars

Summary:Daermon and Brennia open up a little.

Bren's Den
Oh, you have a key? Congratulations! You will find that although this room is the opposite of the warmth you just left, it isn't lacking in the same opulence. Her room is conjoined by it's own luxurious powder room and it is dark with it's thin layer of onyx stone accented with gold covering the marble. The entire atmosphere offers a warm invite to seduce the senses. Upon stepping in closer; don't trip over the large white wolf rug with an unsettling nearly human glare (but what a beast he must have been.)  Are you friendly enough to await the Avain in her large downy bed colored in the deepest red blankets and view blocking canopy ? If not, there are sofas by the wet bar which holds an odd number of bloods from different races, Avian wine, black-fire wine, and specially stilled whisky. Through the circular stained glass door, which depicts a rather gruesome scene,  you might find yourself in a certain island paradise on this vast balcony; warm bottomless sand, a few palm trees and a second wet bar which now holds extra stilled scotch, strawberry wine, Avian champagne and orange juice. If you lounge on one of the hammocks out there, relax and have a drink, you will find it does really feel like an island with the sun so bright and the seemingly endless view of blue.


Brennia manages to uncurl her limbs from around Daermon so she may take a dip in her large tub and check out her new wounds from another rough night of letting their inner monsters out to play. Once she was done bathing herself she pulls her damp hair up into a pony tale, which she doesn’t do often and in doing so somehow makes her look even more like a bird. She would pass the still sleeping vampire to venture out to her balcony which seemed an anomaly in itself seeing as the floor seems a never ending reserve of warm sands. The palm trees offer shade between them for the large hammock there and the wet bar containing some more tropical mixtures of drinks. She pours herself some avian Champagne mixed with orange juice and saunters her towel covered bikini clad self to the shaded hammock.


Daermon woke not long after. It was a true sign of his trust that she could get out of bed without waking him. Assassins, even former ones, never sleep heavily. He stretched, moving to stand. He followed her course, using the tub to clean up, then moved out to the balcony, following her. The sun felt warm on his cool flesh as he spied her in the hammock. "A hell of a home you've constructed." he compliments. 


Brennia smirks while positioning herself comfortingly in a sitting position on the hammock drink in hand, "I aim to accommodate my pets accurately…" She tilts her head just slightly in remembering the vampires back home and how they didn't dare revel in the sun light like this man, "So, sunlight doesn't disagree with you?" She rights her head on her shoulders once more and sips from her flute glass of mimosa. "And I'll assume you slept well…" Her lower lip tucks between her perfect white teeth.


Daermon shivered, growing slightly aroused just from the sight of her biting her lip. Something about it just made him hot. He moves to her, standing beside the tree, taking the moment to let his glacial hues wander over the woman. "Not for a long time. As we age, sometimes we grow an immunity to such things. And a spell woven into my a long time ago helps to allow me to enjoy the sun." he turned his face up, eyes closed. "I did sleep well..." he admitted with a soft smile. "How about you?"


Brennia stands to slip her towel off while she walked over to a blanket in the sand and sticks her flute glass in the sand so she may fold the towel and use it as a pillow. The blanket was big enough for the two of them, but there were other lounge chairs if he chose. She lays herself out enjoying the warm sun on her skin as her wings tuck closely to her curves, "You are ever-so getting more interesting…. I slept better than most nights…" She wiggles a bit as she was trying to shift the sands under her to allow some way for her plump arse. "How long ago did you get turned?"


Daermon took the hint and laid down beside her, using her as a pillow though as he stretched in the warm sand and sun. She did have a magnificent ass. "That's a good thing, no? Helps to keep things fresh." He took a moment, thinking, then answered. "I was turned over three hundred years ago." 


Brennia hummed softly before teasing, "You're very attractive for being three hundred." Her nimble fingers gently run through the vampire's hair, " So, how did it happen?" She always wondered what it would be like to be turned, but alas Avian's are immune to vampirism and lycanthropy. She always liked to ask the vampire 'help' she had back home and he may feel a subtle tinge of guilt from her as she never told him that back home, her island had a dirty secret.


Daermon felt the guilt thru their bond, but once again there was that push like a caress seeking to soothe her. She might notice the flush of pleasure he felt as she ran her fingers thru his hair. "Thank you. And how I was turned is a long story, though I'll tell it if you wish to hear it. It is twined with my training as an assassin." he admits.


Brennia chuckles softly, but there was something in it that sounded more like she was impressed than laughing at the vampire, "Assassin? Please… Do tell, Daermon." Her pronunciation of his name does that thing where him name sounds foreign and exotic; nearly perverse.


Daermon continued. "I prefer nightblade, but yes as an assassin. My story begins some 300 years ago, many miles from these lands. I don't remember much as a small boy, but I assume I was happy. I lived with my parents in a modest estate, my father being some minor baron or count, I don't remember which. But it was a standard childhood. At about the age of seven is the first time I remember the man who would eventually take me from my home, though I suspect he had been coming longer than that. He was a tall, pale elf, even taller than I am now and stick thin, though his sized belayed a strength that was almost unfathomable."


Brennia listened intently and she found another similarity, "My father was a count…" She would add quietly, she wasn't entirely sure if she had shared with him yet. She wasn't sure if he was done with that story, but she left a pause for him to continue.


Daermon smiled, shaking his head. "Another thing we have in common." he says, "Anyway, the elf came to visit and after that time, every year after around the same time. He would speak to my mother and father, then I would be instructed to come to the room. They called him a doctor, though I now know better. He would inspect me, like a piece of livestock, checking how I was growing. When he would leave my studies would change, along with my physical activities. After the age of ten, the studies and activities both become more challenging. I was to learn politics of the region, proper manners for balls and courts. Swordplay became my new activity along with the grueling runs and hand to hand combat I had been trained in before."


Brennia groans, "I hated martial arts training… It's like they wanted us to be weapons." She spent many years trying to undo all of the rigorous training her parents put her through, but it's like all of it became second nature and a small part of her now doesn't want to give up on those ways as it's the only thing she feels keeps their memory alive anymore. She still was unsure if this was where the vampire's story ended, but she wished he'd continue.


Daermon smiled, sensing the confusion thru their bond. "It's a long story, I like to pause in case you have questions or comments. I didn't know that you were so rigorously trained. The intense instruction went on for four years. The elf 'doctor' still came and things still shuffled with his leaving. But on that visit in my fourteenth year, something was different. My parents were angry all the time leading up to his arrival. My mother cried frequently and my father could do little to console her. I, of course, had no idea what was wrong. Then the doctor came. He inspected me and spoke to me for the first time. I was to go with him, he said. I would be leaving my home and moving into the estate ran by his wife and himself. There would be others there my age, he told me and it would be a marvelous time." Daermon looked down then, eyes squeezed shut for a moment. "My mother...she burst into tears and fled the room, my father became angry, began to scream at the man."


Brennia scoffed softly, she wasn't sure about his feelings for his parents were, but she mused, "Parents are nightmares…" For once she found a difference, "Crying from your mother… I would have been lucky to ever really see my mother that emotional…" She would add wherever his story paused, "Hm, how did that go over?" She questions at the part where his father began screaming at the man.


Daermon, speaking to the sky. "It didn't change things. It was hard for them. I found out years later that my parents had owed a debt to the elf, he had helped them with a dispute in the lands years before I was born. The school was definitely a place of education. Myself and the other boys and girls learned pain. We learned how to inflict it and how to have it inflicted upon ourselves. We were trained to be killers, seducers, liars...all while the good doctor and his wife watched our progress. He was gone frequently, off hunting new requests and recruits. I learned later that when one wanted our services, but couldn't pay, the elf would claim one of their children. Usually the oldest, but they ranged from all ages, and they never came to the house before they were ten."


Brennia let her eyes gently close as she listened to him continue his story, so interesting to her. "Hm? Seducer you say? Well done… But I think I was the one who succeeded to seduce you." There was a smirk on her lips, eyes still shut as she tried to make a light joke, it was always a darker energy whenever people talked of their past, including her own. Maybe one day he'd ask and she'd tell.


Daermon smirked with her, "That you did. I wasn't working though, merely being taken by your company. I trained and bled and learned. You've seen the scars on my back, lash marks." he shivered at the thought, the sound of a whip flashing thru his mind. "The whip was used to beat our mistakes into our flesh, under the thought we wouldn't repeat them. Many did not survive the training or the beatings. The main building was where we labored and trained, under the watchful eyes of Lady Morganza, an elf like her husband, tall and pale, with the most purple eyes I've ever seen. She would come thru in her fine dresses, form fitted, pale flesh exposed and would enamor herself to us. She was a mother to the girls and a flirt to the boys. Sometimes boys would go to her chambers and never return, same as the ones who tried to flee. The building was massive and housed all the trained assassins between missions. They were made to be our heroes, their names and deeds drilled into our young minds to give us goals to strive for, beings to emulate."


Brennia's brow quirked, but eyes still closed, "Did you ever get a chance to journey to Lady Morganza's chambers?" Her fingernail traced very lightly over his collar bone to his shoulder and down his bicep as he may feel a rush of excitement from her, the thought of him being seduced by this woman he described genuinely started to sort of turn her on and she was honestly curious if he ever got that chance with the woman. Maybe it wouldn't be a welcomed memory for him, but they are monsters after all and their making is what only makes such a fact stronger.


Daermon gave a soft smile and laugh, "Patience birdy, it's all in the story. But yes." he says with a wry laugh. "I was better trained than most, but I still caught my fair share of the whip. It went on like that for years. Friends were hard to make in that place, they wanted nothing between us and them. If the other assassins were heroes, the lord and lady of the hall were as gods. After they had decided you were trained as good as you were getting with your classmates, you were given as an apprentice to another assassin, set under their watchful eye for the rest of your training and to start going on jobs. Many did not survive that portion of their training either..."


Brennia gently got herself up to sip the rest of her drink down and make another, listening all the while, connecting their gaze from across the balcony to prove she was still paying attention, "Would you like a drink." She asks while she is up making sure to speak between a pause in his story. Once he may or may not place an order, she would fetch it and come back to have a seat next to him while letting down her now dry silky hair.


Daermon indeed took a drink, something mixed with whisky as he'd been hankering that more than brandy recently. He moved so she could settle back in, but not before slapping her on the ass, then running a hand thru her hair and feathers. Daermon smiled sadly, shaking his head. "They were some of the best and worst times of my life. I was given to a female assassin named Celeste. She taught me many things...much more than simply how to be an assassin." he assumed she'd figure out what he meant, the inflection he placed on the proper words. "As I said, I was fortunate. She could be harsh, but kind too...I was a young man though, dealing with puberty and all that entails..." he shook his head again, a soft laugh bubbling up. "Some of the others had it so much worse..."


Brennia smirked again a little playfully at his insinuation, "I'll make sure to thank Molest… I mean Celeste, sorry, I knew a girl back home who I used to tease with the name Celeste because it sounded like molest." She chuckled softly, "Sorry, I was a rotten child." She sips her drink before setting it in the sand again, "Apologies… Do continue."


Daermon gave a soft laugh. "You'd be hard pressed, she's been dead a long time. And she certainly got her fair share of molesting.Some of the others...had it much worse. We heard stories you see, about what some of the other assassins but their apprentices thru...especially the attractive girls and some of the men." he shuddered then, a look of distaste on his face. "All the things I've seen and done in my life, and that is one of the things that will make me cringe the most. I felt and still feel bad for those boys and girls...especially the ones who lived..." clearly some dark things went on with some of the master assassins. "But moving on and glossing over most of my training with Celeste. The jobs she took me on were your standard fair. Kill this person. Infiltrate this party, seduce this lady or lord to lure them away. We had an impressive success rate among the master and apprentice teams. I began to be noticed."


Brennia tried to imagine him looking younger than he already does and how cute he must have been thinking 'Well of course she got her fair share…' during such a deviant thought tucked that lower lip between her teeth, but snapped herself out of it quickly so she didn't miss any of his story, "Began to be noticed? Earned metals and such?"


Daermon had caught the lip bite, "Not exactly...Lady Morganza took an interest in me. I began what would become the first of many nights I would spend in her company. She was a skilled assassin as well, but her interest was a more...carnal nature. That was where I learned of the addiction to being fed upon..." he admitted. "You see, the lord and lady were vampires and had run the organization of assassins for more time than I have been a vampire now."


Brennia nodded just once, "I assumed that much… So, did the lord gentleman get jealous of you and the lady?" She knew people of such powerful positions never really stay monogamous, there were always a few vampire men with a mixed skin tones like her's of whom she was told to stay away from, she didn't have to be a genius to figure out her father, the count, always kept a different type of chamber maids. She knew her mother never liked it though for the lack of emotions she had toward her father.


Daermon smirked, nodding. "Yes. He didn't like his lady's dalliances, especially among the rank and file. She enjoyed petty games, played against her husband. I found out later that he had taken her in the same way he had taken me. He raised her to be an assassin and his lover. I became a pawn in her game...I was a fool. I thought it was love, and the addiction from her feeding from me did not help that..." he admitted, the story bringing back all those memories of the boy he had been, so foolish and arrogant, immortal as only the young feel they are.


Brennia frowns just slightly and is genuinely a little upset for him, "Yeah… It's a dire feeling… Your groomed to thinking you have a great duty and the power when really you are just some usable object." She sighed softly and reached a hand for her drink accidentally knocking it over and watching the liquid soak into the warm sand, "Ah…"


Daermon got up, taking her glass with him and kissing her forehead an oddly sweet, intimate gesture as he moved to clean the glass, then mix her a new drink. "Yes...I played a great trick on myself, believing I was more...I read too much into it. I'm sure you don't want all the details, but she used my addiction to make herself indispensable to me. I loved her, I killed for her and when she changed me, I thought I was going to take her husband's place. I killed him, it was no where near a fair fight. She struck the final blow, but I was the one who brought him to that point, both the highest, and then lowest in my life." He fingered the scar above his heart. "This is where she stabbed me, very nearly the heart...she missed, which I can only assume was on purpose, as skilled as she was."


Brennia stood to move herself where he was and the warmth of her body pressed to his most likely cold one and her hand caressed over the scar he pointed out, "Well that's just so unfortunate my Daermon," She was getting better not to call him 'my pet' and her warm lips place a gentle kiss on the scar as she was an oddity in herself where she thought scars were beautiful.


Daermon shivered against her warmth, then a bit more, noticeably as she kissed the scar. He found scars beautiful as well, another way they were alike, each scar a lesson. "My Brennia..." he whispers back, pressing his hand into her hair fondly, she was the only woman almost as tall as himself. His story was nearly complete now. "She took me to the dungeon and claimed I was dead, that I'd died attempting a coup against the lord. Most believed her, after all, that's what they were taught to do. Celeste as I learned...did not. She began to look, to ask, trying to find out what had really happened."


Brennia felt her stomach flutter a bit at the way he said her name and she knew he probably felt how that made her feel, but remained cool on the outside while she leans herself against the stained glass window, "Did she ever find out?" She asked while tucking some hair behind her pointed ear.


Daermon felt it, but didn't want to embarrass her by commenting. It was a flutter he felt when she spoke his name, or the way she looked at him. "She did. It took her over a year. In that time I was kept in the dungeon, half starved, not training really on what I'd become. I don't know if Morganza regretted her actions or not, but every few weeks she'd visit and feed me a little, not enough to escape, but enough to keep me going. One evening Celeste came for me. She killed the guards and rescued me, half carrying me to freedom. She went back then, barricaded the mansion doors and set fire. She'd taken the time to set it all in motion. We escaped into the night with the mansion blazing behind us, enemies of those that might live thru the fire or who had been out on jobs." he says, watching her. A long story, but at least it was interesting. 


Brennia fell a little silent after the end of his story, it was quite epic in its glory and when she looked on him again she did so in admiration, not like he was some hero, but more in recognition of his valiance and strength. After another pause of just looking at him something came over her, nearly like a concern and she asks out loud, "Do you ever get the feeling that… Someone from your past is hunting you?" Her gaze had averted even before the question, but he may be receiving a feeling like the question rang more true for herself than for him.


Daermon gave a nod but she looked away too fast to see it. "I used to. But that's a different story." he admits, moving to her this time, pressing himself against her. "Do you?" he asks, forcing her to meet his eyes.


Brennia connected their gaze and there was worry in her eyes, but not fear which may be a strange mix, "I was hunted before… If he remembers I am sure he will come, but this is different. I did actually kill the count of Island Vere and anyone has every right to come after me for it…" She took a slow deep breath before that familiar tinge of guilt came from her again, she was talking of Quillon.


Daermon, his arms slipping around her as he does the calming caress thru their bond. "No...they don't. They don't have the right to come after you for mistakes of the past. And if they come after you...I will stand beside you." he promised quietly, pledging himself to her protection. "Only if you wish it though." he adds just as softly. 


Brennia grew a little wary, "Is it the past if it happened right before I flew back here… Not even that long ago… Maybe a few weeks…" Her voice was growing quieter and quieter in her shame as she remembers the blood from Quillon neck painting her face with beautiful drops of crimson. Her hands cupped the sides of his face, "Of course I wish it… It was actually my intention of having so many pets, it thought I could get protection from them… But you are more than that."


Daermon gently moved his hand to cup her cheek, staring evenly into her eyes. "One day I will ask you why and perhaps you will give me an answer. But I am a killer, a murderer and assassin. I don't judge you for what you have done, will do, or would do again. You are more than a pet to me too..." he admits softly. "My Brennia." he says, and unless she stopped him, he would press his lips gently, but firmly against her own. 



It's Nice Not To... Be Alone

Bren's Den
Oh, you have a key? Congratulations! You will find that although this room is the opposite of the warmth you just left, it isn't lacking in the same opulence. Her room is conjoined by it's own luxurious powder room and it is dark with it's thin layer of onyx stone accented with gold covering the marble. The entire atmosphere offers a warm invite to seduce the senses. Upon stepping in closer; don't trip over the large white wolf rug with an unsettling nearly human glare (but what a beast he must have been.)  Are you friendly enough to await the Avain in her large downy bed colored in the deepest red blankets and view blocking canopy ? If not, there are sofas by the wet bar which holds an odd number of bloods from different races, Avian wine, black-fire wine, and specially stilled whisky. Through the circular stained glass door, which depicts a rather gruesome scene,  you might find yourself in a certain island paradise on this vast balcony; warm bottomless sand, a few palm trees and a second wet bar which now holds extra stilled scotch, strawberry wine, Avian champagne and orange juice. If you lounge on one of the hammocks out there, relax and have a drink, you will find it does really feel like an island with the sun so bright and the seemingly endless view of blue.



Brennia slipped from bed which may or may not contain a vampire whom she may or may not have woken up by getting out of bed, but she did try to gently do so as no to wake him. She shifts through some compartments, quietly, to find her herbs and long necked obsidian pipe. Once in hand she tip toed her way out to the lounge chairs in her balcony/beach so she may relax herself further. She didn't really need it as of late as she found if she let her inner monster out to play with Daermon that it was easier to control day by day, but who doesn't like a little smoke here or there to relax even further.


Daermon :: It didn't take long, but the vampire soon joined her. No matter how well he slept, you couldn't stop being a light sleeper after years of training. He padded out to her, silent, taking the pipe from her hand as he moved past and taking a long, slow draw on it. 


Brennia got startled a bit causing her to nearly jump out her silk night gown which brings a giggle, just lightly, and rarely at that. For a flash her smile genuine in which pokes dimples into her cheeks and brilliantly show of her perfect pearly whites. She clears her throat while standing herself up, "You actually startled me a bit." She mixed herself a lighter drink made of coconut rum and cranberry's juice while her oceanic blues takes in the view of the sun set .


Daemon :: Puffed on the pipe before moving behind her, wrapping her in his arms as he offered it back, nuzzling against her wing. "You have my apologies then." he offers sincerely, squeezing her before moving beside her, mixing himself a drink as well. 


Brennia smirked in his grasp and gently laid her head back in return of his embrace while setting the pipe down on the counter top. She took his glass and mixed him the drink so he didn’t have to, more in like a caring 'I want to take care of you type of way' rather than 'im controlling' kind of way. She takes a long drag from her pipe and lets the dense smoke billow out through her plump lips, "I can't remember the last time you left my Daermon…" A soft chuckle before sipping her tropical drink, "I don't think I've even kept track of time."


Daermon offered a slight smile, moving so that he could look at her, sip his drink and lean his behind against the rail of the balcony. "Are you saying I'm clingy? I could go, if you like..." he smiles, swirling his drink and looking down, then meeting her eyes again, the icy hues full of mischief. 


Brennia offered a playful glare, "Don't you dare," She joked, "But I want you to stay as long as you please because you are always welcome." He would feel through their connection she felt secure and confident in her reply while she moved to lean over the railing and look down upon Xalious. She left the silence in the air for a moment, "What I mean is, there is no where else you would rather be?"


Daermon took a moment to admire her very nice backside, then palmed it, turning to the balcony before moving his hand away, looking out over the view. "I feel welcome. It's nice not to...be alone." he admits. Sure there were a few other women, but house Dragana was empty. It'd been just him again for the last few months and as much as he didn't want to admit it, he didn't like being alone. "No." he says to her question, his answer ringing with honesty thru their bond. It was simple and to the point, but true...there was no where else he'd rather be. 


Brennia smirked again still looking down to the lands of Hollow, she had such a beautiful view of the lands. When he simply answered her question with a no it made her insides flutter though she kept her even expression on the outside. "Same here…" She thought to say something, but didn't want to sound corny so she changes the subject, "I don't think I ever asked you if you kept a job in Hollow now-a-days. We know a bit of what we have done and been through not who we are now…" She slinked herself against him trailing a fingernail down his torso, "So what is it you do… Other than me." She softly smirked through a short chuckle.


Daermon followed her gaze, looking over the lands, then turning to face Brennia as she traced her finger down his form. "I don't do much assassin work anymore. Not really necessary when you don't need the money. I do take the odd contract to kill bandits and pesky creatures though, something to hand out bits of random violence..." he says with a wicked grin, his monster peeking out thru his eyes.


Brennia giggled again at his comment on violence, "I used to try hard to stay out of violence, but I think I can't keep away from it…" When his monster peeped her she grinned a bit wickedly and he might feel a rush of arousal which isn't a usual reaction to someone's darker side, but then again it's Brennia we are talking about here. "I never caused chaos, I never stopped it either… I just loved to watch while things burned…" Her own darkness swirled for a moment in her eyes as if ink being dropped into water.


Daermon set a hand on her hip, drawing her closer. "Mmm, maybe if you ask me really nicely...on your knees, I'll take you along on my next contract to hunt down some bandits." he promises, enjoying letting his monster stare back at hers. It was funny how alike they could be, speaking of violence, bloodshed, the arousal they both felt at the thought. 


Brennia slipped her bottom lip between those perfect teeth and then grinned as she sort of pounced him and sent them both free falling down to the land of Hollow and her wings span open right at the right moment for the winds to push them back up into the air so she may circle her castle a few time and with surprising strength able to hold onto the vampire who is taller than her. After a moment of flight she would land gracefully back on the sands of the balcony. "Please can you?" She chuckled softly, "How's that for asking?"


Daermon gave an exuberant yell as she carried him, enjoying the flight then laughing as they landed again. "Not as sexy as how I pictured it, but yes, it'll do nicely." he says with another soft laugh, smiling with genuine warmth for the woman.



Whatever Happens, Happens.

Brennia's Miniature Castle
After finding your way through the topiary garden it would only be fitting to come upon a building which looks like a section taken right out of a castle in the same style as all of Schezerade, in all it's decadence; marble forming the entirety of the large home accented with gold and platinum in which you'll have to cross over a short glass bridge to reach. The front door is welcoming for all shapes and sizes that are the citizens of Hollow and spans a great distance in it's solid French Door of a design. Opening it up one might be perplexed at the ability for the home to hold such music coming from the main room there, provided the owner of the home is present. Once immersed, the eyes might be stolen by the gaping cathedral ceilings above spotted by gold and platinum in which encircles mini glowing stones to mimic the night sky, but beauty is not what the ceiling is for as it carries one's voice in the ear most pleasing fashion. The walls of the room have shelves carved into the marble upon nearly every wall of this vast oval-shaped room, but the shelves were carved only into small squares, each holding scrolls to nearly any song someone might wish to hear and it should be clear now that a bard lives here; explains the marvelous white-wood, gold-accented, concert grand piano in the middle of this large room. Nearing further into the tiny castle one's nostrils might pick up on the scent of mouth watering food being cooked wafting from the kitchen which is north of the main room and it also holds a small, but elegant dining area as well. A comfortable little nook is off the kitchen for her chef, Zachaël, to reside in for his cooking is to die for and a must to have him as a live-in cook. Beyond that nook there is a winding staircase which travels below and is illuminated as if gold is to be kept down there. If you wish to stay and listen to the bard or wait for her to emerge there are luxurious sofas strew about with the softest throw blankets and plushy cushions, but be careful; an unsettling feeling may overcome you as your eyes spot a locked door to the west with an outreaching design in onyx stone overlay which seems to be inking over into the pristine luxury you’ve found yourself in. It's as if the room beyond holds a darkness that's attempting to leak out into this little slice of heaven… Better just leave that door alone.


Brennia ways playing a more serene tune with choice of weapon, the concert grand piano, bigger the better right? Anyway her fingertips gently work out the beautiful melody of her making. She didn't chime in with lyrics as she was solely trying to work out kinks in harnessing the power she has with the piano for that alone could work like ten Zoloft on the soul if used correctly. Brennia a true creature of perfection with her posture and concentration on the black and white keys while she marble walls of the castle impressively keep the sound and magic within it's walls as to not disturb anyone with it. Again, one would hear it and be taken away by it, feeling very much a peace with everything, feeling whole again, possibly feeling their heart flutter to life once more. She got plenty of practice in the hanging corpse attempting to make those soulless vampires feel love once more.


Daermon stopped outside the small castle, hearing the piano and knowing instantly who it was who was at the keys. He slowly walked in, timing his boot clicks to the melody then in a surprising tone, raised his voice to harmonize with the sound as he walked towards the avian woman, his long duster nearly dragging the floor. He leaned beside her, not adding any words, but the rich baritone of his voice to the melody, then after a few minutes, went quiet and let her resume her silent playing. It was a beautiful melody, though something in it struck a chord of sadness within him.


Brennia felt his soul the moment he entered, but didn't show it, only continued to play with a soft smirk at his abilities to harmonize with her playing. She would scoot over one the pianist bench if he chose to sit with her while she gently ended the song being able to feel his sadness, not just by their imprint; only while she played though. Once her hands stopped playing she offered a soft smile and he would be able to tell through her clear eyes she didn't use Artia's potion yet… I mean no need until she actually as to leave and especially so around him as he's able to battle her monster out with her own. "Merry Meet my someone," she was able to speak common now.


Daermon dipped his head in greeting, sitting next to her, though backwards on the bench. "Well met. A beautiful song, if a little sad to my ears, though it does me well to see you." he'd just seen her earlier, yet he clearly meant it. He was genuinely pleased to be with her again. A soft smile graced his stubbled face. "So, how are we feeling today?" he asks, looking her over.


Brennia glanced down at her arm where the tattoo pattern was twitching though she didn't seem worried about it and her eyes would meet his now, but they seemed off as well. They looked as if drops of ink were falling into the ocean and clouding them over with darkness, it would clear up, then happen again as if on some weird timer. "I am not entirely sure. I feel fine, but this new herb must have really messed with me last night. I am in control as my normal self, but it's like the ink doesn't know what to do." Brennia really didn't seem that bothered by the visual effects she was putting off, "If it does harm, I'll be seeking Artia to maybe change it, but possibly it will stop in due time." She was such a carefree spirit and he may feel that. "Is there a reason this song made you sad, Daermon?" A tilt of her head was given, "It's supposed to fill someone with the feeling of love… Maybe I did it wrong." Her eyes analyze the keys once more.


Daermon shakes his head slowly, gently laying his palm against her cheek and turning her face to look at him. "I don't think the problem lies with you. I think it is mine. It's because love and sadness walk hand in hand in my heart. At over 300 years old, I've loved many. I can still remember their smells, their faces. Friends and lovers, all of them. Celeste was the first woman I shared my life with and I stayed with her until the day she died. She'd never let me turn her you see. She used to lament how old she must look to my young eyes, but I still saw the woman who rescued me from Morganza's dungeon. I always saw her as that. And that is just one love over a life as long as mine." he lowered his hand with a sad smile. "I'm damaged goods Brennia and carry the baggage of the past with me. But I still love." he says, having never given up on the emotion. "Even with the pain, love is still...amazing and confusing and silly, but worth it."


Brennia rested her head on his shoulder after he dropped his hands from her face and he would feel no pang of jealousy from her as he was mentioning how he's loved others. Although she felt that guilt again for killing someone she loved and she now understood how he felt, how sadness and love go hand in hand allowing her to suppress the guilt feeling and only offer a feeling of understanding. "I wouldn't say damaged… Possibly weathered, but I like my baggage vintage." She chuckled just softly before she tries to add maybe to make him feel better, "Well… Avians live as long as Dragons if that's any consolation." She lifts her head now with a wink.


Daermon gave a soft chuckle and stole a kiss. "Perhaps it does. Though I daresay who knows what will happen when you tire of me." he teases, standing and moving to hang his duster on a coat rack. He was wearing a light blue sleeveless tunic under it, something half open, showing glimpses of pale, hard flesh. "But I will enjoy whatever time we have."


Brennia laughs a little harder this time when he stood up to walk away, "I tire of you? What if you tire of me?" A brow quirks to him at this conundrum she offered to him , "I'm not thinking that far ahead. Never do. 'Whatever happens, happens' I always say." She obviously wasn't one to hold grudges and was probably more hard on herself than others in the end. She stands from the piano trailing a caress over the top as if saying goodbye to a lover before a glass of wine was offered to her from Zachael.


Daermon turned, still not used to how short his hair was as he instinctively went to brush some back then ended up moving his hand thru it instead. "I see no reason I'd tire of you darlin'." he says, giving a confident smile, moving over to her. "None for me?" he asks the chef, not really caring. He had not interest in her staff fetching things for him.


Brennia linked an arm over Zachael's shoulders and offered that usual heart melting smile to the man, it didn't take much to make the chef blush as a question came from Brennia in that flawless language. He shook his head and offered a bow of respect to the vampire before traversing to the wine cellar to get the vampire his favorite brandy. "He's so easy." a giggle escapes her, but a hand gently went to her mouth before clearing her throat. "Did you get your haircut like this on purpose?" She wonders and hopes he didn't cut it because of their first fight when Inky had thrown a dagger at him.


Daermon shook his head, watching the other man vanish to the whine cellar. "What did you say to him?" he asks curiously before turning his eyes back to Brennia. "And not...exactly. You know about Barnabus, how our symbiotic relationship is what allows him to live in this world unharmed and I get access to his abilities? On of which is the ability to travel thru the plane of shadow where he is from. It intersects our world everywhere that shadows exist. I use it to get around a bit faster as time moves differently there than here. I was a bit more...exhausted than I'd like to admit and had traveled several times already that day. The last time, the portal closed quickly, taking a ragged chunk of my hair with it. So I decided to trim it down, and maybe keep it like this for a time. You don't like?" he asks with a half smile.


Brennia shrugged, "I just asked very nicely if he would mind fetching my Daermon's favorite drink." He has returned with a tray which holds, the brandy bottle, a small bucket of ice with tongs to grab said ice and a chilled glass. Brennia takes the tray and sets it on a coffee table so Daermon and her may have a seat and have a drink, "That's got to be quite an exciting ability…" She took a long sip of her drink before her inking eyes take in the vampire with shorter hair and a soft smile pulls at her plump lips before offering a supple kiss to his own lips. "You can pull anything off, but yes… I do like." She winks before slightly shifting her leg to cross over the other, having naughty thought now that he may feel.


Daermon arched an eyebrow at the naughty thought. "Such a bad birdy." he teases, pouring himself a glass of brandy. Whisky, brandy, whatever. Daermon drank most things, though it was more for pleasure than any actual intoxication. It took a lot to burn thru that vampire metabolism. "And it's useful. I'll take you thru one day if you like." he offers. It would only be a short trip, as the shadow plane was very cold to mortals. He didn't comment on pulling things off, though it made him return the naughty thought.


Brennia perks up a bit, "That sounds like loads of fun." A wink there and then she giggles 'accidentally' spilling her wine on herself. "Well, if you'd look at that. I'm soaked… And it's dirty birdy." That lower lip tucks between perfect teeth once more as she stands. "Looks like I've got to change…" She saunters her way to the doorway which leads to her bedroom, "Are you coming my Daermon." She glanced over her shoulder through wings at him, he knew what she meant… With her last few sentences full of double entendre.


Daermon rose to his feet, setting his drink down on the bench. "Oh absolutely." he says, not needing any more encouragement than that to follow the woman. "Let me help you out of those wet clothes. We'll have to see if we can get you cleaned up..." his eyes sparkle with mischief as he follows the woman, watching her saunter away.


Monsters Saving Each Other

Summary: A fight gone wrong, or right.

Brennia's Miniature Castle
After finding your way through the topiary garden it would only be fitting to come upon a building which looks like a section taken right out of a castle in the same style as all of Schezerade, in all it's decadence; marble forming the entirety of the large home accented with gold and platinum in which you'll have to cross over a short glass bridge to reach. The front door is welcoming for all shapes and sizes that are the citizens of Hollow and spans a great distance in it's solid French Door of a design. Opening it up one might be perplexed at the ability for the home to hold such music coming from the main room there, provided the owner of the home is present. Once immersed, the eyes might be stolen by the gaping cathedral ceilings above spotted by gold and platinum in which encircles mini glowing stones to mimic the night sky, but beauty is not what the ceiling is for as it carries one's voice in the ear most pleasing fashion. The walls of the room have shelves carved into the marble upon nearly every wall of this vast oval-shaped room, but the shelves were carved only into small squares, each holding scrolls to nearly any song someone might wish to hear and it should be clear now that a bard lives here; explains the marvelous white-wood, gold-accented, concert grand piano in the middle of this large room. Nearing further into the tiny castle one's nostrils might pick up on the scent of mouth watering food being cooked wafting from the kitchen which is north of the main room and it also holds a small, but elegant dining area as well. A comfortable little nook is off the kitchen for her chef, Zachaël, to reside in for his cooking is to die for and a must to have him as a live-in cook. Beyond that nook there is a winding staircase which travels below and is illuminated as if gold is to be kept down there. If you wish to stay and listen to the bard or wait for her to emerge there are luxurious sofas strew about with the softest throw blankets and plushy cushions, but be careful; an unsettling feeling may overcome you as your eyes spot a locked door to the west with an outreaching design in onyx stone overlay which seems to be inking over into the pristine luxury you’ve found yourself in. It's as if the room beyond holds a darkness that's attempting to leak out into this little slice of heaven… Better just leave that door alone.



Daermon had left the castle early that morning, not waiting for Bren to wake. He went out to hunt a quick contract indulging in a bit of blood lust to wet his whistle. He was collecting the minimal pay for the two men he'd brought back, mostly alive, when he felt Brennia a bit thru the bond.   


Brennia woke up with a hunger she couldn't explain she wanted to fight and she couldn't explain why and Daermon wasn't there when she woke this time; it was different but she wasn't worried about that. She didn’t really feel like using the herbs that the Apothecary, Artia, had conjured up for her so she could keep Inky under control, but she didn't feel like using it since she can only talk in her native tongue whenever it effects her. She tied up her long black hair and adorned herself in the usual tight leather leggings and blue blouse before making her way to her music room, pacing the marble floor with anxiousness before toying with the keys. She couldn't help but to play something dark a alluring; haunting.


Daermon could almost...feel the siren call singing his blood to battle. He knew, knew that she was spoiling for a fight. He dipped a nod to the man who paid him, walking past the bound men who swore and cussed at him as he snickered. With a flare of his power, the shadows bent, distorted and stretched to him, swallowing him up and whisking him to Brennia's castle. He stepped out amid her playing, the mask of humanity he wore slipping away, eyes black, all his teeth fangs as he spoke. "Hello little darkness." 


Brennia stopped playing at once as soon as she felt his soul enter her castle. Of course that ink swirling into itself, but seeing as it's been a few days it can be expected that he is greeted by Inky. The tri-vocals ring out as if over his shoulder, "Hello, Pet." The word was exaggerated, made to taunt him when he knows he is much more to the Avian. Her iris' were enlarged and clouding with the blackest of black and her silky tendrils attempting to come undone from her pony tail. Quickly an Onyx Feather-Dagger was soaring past the vampire again. She was a beautifully dangerous weapon. The song itself continued to resonate under the cathedral ceiling as if amplifying their dark sides and offer a background for dastardly things to be done.


Daermon didn't waste any time in slipping out of his duster and shirt, cracking his neck side to side as he stepped past her and Inky. "Come along then. It's time for another lesson." he taunted back, exposing his back to her. His deep voice rang with an echo, his own dark passenger along with him today for the ride. 


Topiary Garden
Just like the covered walkway that leads to this garden and the other garden beyond that walkway, this topiary garden appears to be tended to with the utmost care. Shrubs and trees are carefully clipped so they’re shaped into various animals --winged creatures, mostly-- and even a few people of varying race. Children can be seen playing hide-and-seek among the massive plant sculptures, filling the tranquil garden with childish laughter.



Brennia skipped past him back out to the garden they go again and possibly her Onyx Stone wings brush past the man leaving some light scars to start. She lets some the ink escape her to traverse to the nearest topiary bush and it would seemingly come alive with darkened leaves; putting on a show to leap at the vampire from it's root and once the vampire might jerk away the ink slithered to the next piece of topiary sculpture to offer another possible scare. Every time it left the topiary, though, it would sort of saw down the little tree and make it fall, if the vampire might get caught under it, it's no big deal seeing as it's just a little tree, right? "What is it today?" Her taunting, yet sing-songy voice would attempt to seduce his senses.


Daermon's monster blocked most of her words power, though he did get a tad irritable with the falling trees. "Ruining the garden you know. I thought you were supposed to be doing that to me." he says, stopping in the same small clearing they'd used last time. "Today's lesson is the exquisite pleasure that can come from pain." he hisses, sending a dagger of his own streaking towards her, one made of shadow stuff, something he'd yet to show and share with her, his ability to manipulate it into solid mass. 


Brennia couldn't doge the dagger in enough time and it sinks into her arm, spilling out her blood at an amount her ink cannot keep up with when something remarkable happens and the ink voids from her completely taking on a form which is shaped like the Avian and it is mad… It takes the dagger which was in Brennia's arm and sends it back before a confused looking Brennia stumbles back holding her bicep and cursing. Inky now rushes to her side attempting to stop the bleeding, but there wasn't much time left in this form so Inky slithers its way back to the vampire in attempts to continue the fight sending a punch at him, every time leaving a burning imprint wherever it touched.


Daermon was as shocked as Brennia as Inky manifested. The shadow dagger dissipated as she hurled it back, his to control. As the ink turned and flew at him, he blocked the first punch, hissing in pain as it burned him. He managed to get some distance, coating himself in shadow, perhaps hinting at how he was so good at stealth, at hiding, then struck back. Blows connected on both fronts, ink and shadow clad vampire hurting each other, but not doing nearly the damage a simple dagger had. Daermon fell into a dance, his movements graceful, one flowing to the next as he struck and was struck. 


Brennia, holding her arm walked into Inky right before some of his hit's connected causing her to lose this fight more and more. Her hands pluck some more feather daggers from her wings in attempts to jab the vampire like he got her. Brennia didn't mean for this to continue like this, she just felt out of control and wanted Inky to stop attacking Daermon for a moment, but there they were, raw monsters coming out to play. Brennia's grunting indicated she was feeling weaker from continuing to lose blood from her left bicep.


Daermon takes a stab to the shoulder, giving a slice across her stomach, his shadows melting away, all burned where the blows had struck. Even shadow clad he hadn't been able to stop the stinging blows. His eyes shift from Inky to Brennia, really paying attention for the first time since the fight started. He could hear her heart, laboring as she lost blood. "Stop." he says to the thing, concern for her gripping him as blood flowed from around the dagger in his shoulder. 


Brennia and Inky were one again and they both stopped, her ink becoming just that and she stumbled back, not realizing how much energy her powers stole from her. A smirk played on her lips, she still had fun, but things started to blur out of focus and a bit of confusion hit, "Daermon?" She mumbled before she fell to her knees before him whilst holding her wound and she felt a little panicked right as a light headed feeling came over her. She slumped on the grass unconscious… I guess it had to happen at some point where they go too far.


Daermon forgot all about his own wounds as he scooped her into his arms, his blood leaking down onto her as he carried her inside, laying her on her bed. She'd have to forgive him for the mess later as he tried to wake her. "Brennia, I need you to wake up darlin'," he says as she drifts in and out of consciousness. "I can heal you, but you have to agree. Bren!" there was an edge of real panic there.


Brennia was being carried and her ink was doing something uncharacteristically as it was shifting from the vampire's skin back to her own and gathering at her wound as if it were trying to heal her itself by stealing some of the man's strength. Since the tattoo is a part of her, he might feel that panic coming from Inky as well. Brennia's hand slowly raised to caress down the man's face as she barely whispers, "Of course… I trust you…" And with that she slips back out of consciousness.


Daermon was concerned. She'd lost a lot of blood. He sliced open his wrist, dribbling it in her wounds, watching them begin to knit and heal faster with Inky's help. He himself then turned, dribbling a bit in her mouth to heal any internal damage. She began to gag a bit on the blood, though he held her, keeping her mouth closed to keep it in until she swallowed. Her breathing began to even out, heart rate rising as he could feel the bond they had from the first time he'd fed harden into something stronger, more permanent. 


Brennia did choke a little on the blood but with his help it got it's way down her and her eyes shot open, inky completely dormant now as that was quite exhausting. Brennia was quiet for a moment and it might be hard to tell if she were upset or happy, but ultimately she sits up and hugs him tightly. "I apologize if this was something you didn't want to do, but I am thankful you saved me…" She was genuine in her thanking and in her apology as well.


Daermon hugged her back and she might feel the shift in their bond as well. His emotions flew thru the bond to her, guilt at having hurt her so, fear at thinking he might lose her. Mostly there was that fluttery feeling neither had voiced. The one of caring. The one so close to the L word. "I don't mind in the least...I'm sorry I hurt you..." he says softly, holding her.  He would have made the deeper bond had she asked, or if she'd been hurt some other way, but he felt guilty for having almost forced it upon her by hurting her. Such is the dangers when monsters play. 


Brennia sat up in his apology and she tucked some loosened tendrils behind her elongated pointy pierced ears. "Um..." She felt that bond strengthen like their souls are now imprinted upon each other and she felt a deeper understanding of his feelings and how she felt in reply. Her deep blue eyes connect to his glacial ones as she placed a hand on his chest trying to reject his guilty feeling. "Don't be sorry... I actually..." She couldn't explain the feeling she got when they battled out their darkness, it was a mixture of relieve and exhilaration as if she's scratching an inch that's been bothering her. The only thing she can think to say, "I enjoy those times... Daermon, I enjoy you." For a small moment her fingertips caress of his wounds and to help speed his healing process her throat hummed a chant quietly, but in that moment he would feel her pure power and the great possibility it held to either harm or help and he may truly understand the ability to help heal the soul. Once she was done in the small but sweet moment her gaze would lock to his again and offer him a sultry kiss. "You did exactly what was expected in a tough situation..." She attempted to reason with him logically though he may feel how she was reciprocating that fluttery caring feeling.


Daermon slowly pulled her against him, kissing her again. He flexed his newly healed shoulder, meeting her eyes. "I...enjoy you too." he says, perhaps rather lamely, but they weren't quite there yet. They both held back, that slight hesitation from the way they felt. Though they both certainly knew it now, even if they didn't say it. The bond was sometimes a burden, but times like this, were it helped two understand each other, that was when it was really something special. "Will you...sing for me again?" he asks, not for power, or healing, but just because he enjoyed the sound of her voice. It soothed him. The guilt he'd felt began to ease as he looked into her eyes.


Brennia smiles, genuine and charming. "Anything for you my someone." She reclined back onto her bed and gently padded the empty space next to her. He was about to hear something that more than likely no other soul has heard before. Her true voice without bards magic to enhance it which laces it with all its good feeling goodness. Once he had made himself comfortable next to her she would sing a gentle and serene melody which feels as if it's a lullaby and her natural voice was very beautiful in itself, just lacking that mind numbing oomph. She would sing for him until his hearts content.


A Little Help From My Friends

Summary: Brennia is having a tough time battling some very real entity which threatens her loved ones.

Whine Celliar
Traversing your way around and around in the winding staircase might leave you a little apprehensive to step onto the glass floor at the bottom, as it looks void of solidity and gives you the feeling of flying over the clouds that drift through Hollow. This wine cellar is fully stocked with any wine you could imagine from Chardonnay to Viognier and Cabernet Sauvignon to Zinfandel all bottles neatly tucked into diamond shaped nooks which are carved into these marble walls. It is a beauty to behold, but if you wandered down here on the false promise that there are mountains of gold below by reason of the illumination, then you are sadly mistaken. The room is only clad in a thin layer of gold. Find what you please and if it's harder drink you seek I would recommend the cabinet with the alchemical snake above it holding extra stilled scotch with light citrus, brine and smokey sweetness on the tongue. Maybe try the cabinet with the dragon depicted above it containing specially distilled whisky offering a rich burst of flavor, with a palate of soft honey and deliciously nutty toffee (strong stuff here, I do not recommend to those faint of heart.) Possible vampire? Try the bureau with the image of a bat offering many liquors with rare types of bloods mixed in them, I would recommend steering clear of the brandy in this one though. Pay no mind to the Osmium shackles attached to a desolate corner of the cellar, you don't want to try them out, do you? Venturing deeper through the maze of wine racks you will come across deep purple drapes with a golden willow tree and air symbol sewn into the fabric for it's an enchantress's corner to dabble in her apothecary. Here you will find a myriad of any and every ingredient known to all Hollowites, rarity no issue, but the glamorous sight of all the decadent potion bottles against the golden cellar may entice one to give any a try to just see what might happen…. I dare you.



A large crow like apparition flies overhead until swooping down to drop a shiny object to the woman then dissipate as if smoke, but now before offering a loud obnoxious caw. Upon further inspection of the shiny object it seems to be a musical note shaped key and one might sense the magic in it. If picked up it would hum softly and depending on the direction one stood it would grow louder. Attached to this key was a note, 'Please help…' Arita had received the note, and knew exactly where it came from. Pulling a pendulum fromin between her breast she whispered a spell. Tracking the owner of the item, it took a lot of work for it. But she was able to track down Brennia, once she slipped into the home and down to the wine cellar. She tucked it back where she got it, "Bre! Where are you?"


Brennia was sitting on the glass floor which peaks through clouds down to the lands of Hollow while she was starring at two portraits. One of which is obviously members of her family all adorned in Royal garb, Stunning mother, Handsome dusky skinned father and quite the looker for a brother. The other portrait depicts another striking looking lad, one not related to her, Brown eyes, blonde hair and adorning the same crown as the Count in the latter picture. Her hand reached out to stroke the painting of the man until she heard Artia. She stands to her 6'2" barefoot height and pads her way across the transparent floor to the Enchantress, "I've something for you." She takes her hand and leads her through a maze of wine shelves and mead casks until they come to the Deep Purple curtain depicting the golden willow tree and air symbol, "Open it…"


Artia saw Brennia, standing in all her beauty. Artia had to catch her breath, she almost forgot how beautiful she was, her memory of Brennia did not do her justice. Large cyan eyes look to the painting, the family Irenic killed. She sighed, knowing Irenic more so Edlin was a horrible person who wanted nothing but power in any way. Moving up to Brennia, running a hand along her back as she lead them through the shelves of wine. Once reached the curtain, she noticed the air symbol and eyes went wide. "Bre.." She says gently as hands move up to open the curtain.


Brennia was smiling genuinely in which show off her perfect pearly whites and poke dimples in her cheeks as her eyes take in the large corner of the wine cellar. It offers an Apothecary heaven with herbs dangling from the ceiling seemingly growing there and shelves upon shelves of many potion bottles which are currently empty so she may fill them. Brennia opens a large chest and it offers a well organized bunch of ingredients, any rare ones she may think of she would find there. She opens a cabinet and there was an enchanted apron hanging in there in which changes color to the enchantress' wishes and the cabinet contains even more ingredients in which are more common, but in abundance. "I want you to feel at home here. Zachael in my kitchen is more than capable of making any food you wish as he studied under Chef Courier… There's a balcony off my room upstairs which is a reminder of the island I came from, it's like a beach, but without water… If you ever need to get away and take a break you are always welcome here… But I need your help with something…" She glanced back at the portrait of Quillon almost sullen seeming now.


Artia was in awe at the beauty even more as she smiled, the dimples just pure cuteness overload. Once the corner was revealed, she placed her hand above her heart. "Bre...this..this." She was not expecting such a place, moving inside running her hands along the herbs that hung. The avian thought of everything, the vials were prettier then the onces she used but then again artia bought the cheaper ones due to she doesnt really get paid for what she does. Moving beside her once more admiring what laid inside the cabinet, picking up the apron as it changed to a crimson. "No way!" She then thought of blue, and it turned the exactly blue. "Bre..this..I can't accept this. I haven't done anything deserving for this." The witch turned around, placing the apron back in the cabinet. Then moved to wrap her arms around the avianess, "I could seriously kiss you," she paused, "Did you say Courier?"


Brennia let her rare smile stay a while longer while watching Artia enjoy herself. "You didn't have to do anything. You’ve been through enough don't you think?" She returns the hug and her black onyx wings accompany her arms as if wrapping the human in a feathery cocoon. "This isn't charity or pity, it's a gift to a friend and you're going to accept it. Schezerade is a small town and people either don't know they can access it in the meadows or are too afraid of heights to come up here. The entire town looks like this and I want you to have a place where you can stow away if you need a break. That key lets you access my room and no one can get in." Artia might notice the ink atop Brennia's skin start to swirl and sway as if it's a separate entity from the Avian's body, "Yes… Courier, the famous chef. Zachael had a hard time watching her turn to madness and he wanted to escape the Island too… I didn't know what happened to Edlin's family." The tattoo starts to separate from Brennia and imprint itself onto Artia's skin shaping into a unique pattern fit for her looking like tree branches, giving the human an even more otherworldly look. Brennia realized maybe a little too late as the tattoo might start to sting the skin and she backed away, when she did the ink snapped back to their rightful place…. "Please help me…"


Artia sighed, "Yes, I have been...Irenic..he isn't dead Brennia like Sebias said. He was left for dead and was..someone saved him and it wasn't me. I didn't search for him, I should've. Sorry, I shouldnt be bringing this all to you." She looked up into Brennia face, raising a hand tp bring her face down to her own. Placing a kiss to her forehead then a peck to her lips, "Thank you Brennia, this means a lot." As soon as she brought up her room and how private it was the ink of the tattoos began to swirl and move like it was alive...and then from her body. She almost said Eldin last name was Courier but let it go for now as seemed some more pressing important matters were at hand. Blinking at the ink as it moved to her skin, "Bre...this isn't normal is it?" Her arms wrapped tightly around brennia's waist, "What is going on dear?"


Brennia offered a sympathetic expression while Artia was venting until that dark corner of her mind twists her lips into a wicked smirk. Brennia's sultry alto voice snakes out like a lullaby, but another version of her voice whispers in the Human's ear while the third voice chuckles menacingly into the human's other ear, "Death is far too sweet for that bastard anyway, my love." Their close proximity causes the ink to inch out toward the human again to access her powers once more, Brennia gently backs away again so Artia doesn't get harmed and an expression of apology on her face, "That wasn't me, I didn't mean to say that… Forgive me?" She shook her head and smoothed down her black hair which was floating for a moment in the air as if she were under water. "I need something, a potion, a drug, something to keep this under control. Alcohol, herbs, and sex isn't doing it anymore… It's getting stronger…" A darkness encompasses her stunning blue eyes, "I mean I'm getting stronger." Her hand reaches for some avian wine and she downs an impressive amount and the antics stop… She's suppressed for now.


Daermon once more found his way to the floating castle, albeit he got lost a few times along the way. Using his key he entered, looking for Brennia. He'd been coming by pretty often to check on the avian, especially after their last time. His boots clicked on the floor as he walked, catching the scent of Artia as well and following it to the wine cellar, his duster dragging along the floor as he entered without warning. He could feel the magic in the air as he stopped at the top of the wine cellar steps, glacial eyes moving from one woman to the other. "I seem to be party crashing." he says, his eyes catching Brennia downing the wine.


Artia heard the voice, and the chuckle, she wanted to smack her for that comment. But it hit her that Brennia had something pretty major going on with her, and that could been why she hadn't been around lately. With a sigh, "Bre I have and will always forgive you. You have a special place in my heart for always trying to be there for me when you could. " With a step to Brennia, she poked her chest playfully after Brennia had took her drink. "When did this start happening? And I don't think drinking will help, what if you drink so much that it takes over and causes some major damage. I need you to tell me everything about these tattoos, and let's get you help. Yeah?" Looking up to where Daermon stood, crossing her arms as she took in his sight, a rather nice sight. But Daermon knew he was stunning, "Daermon, and no not crashing any parties. She just showed me the gift of a work station for a get away work place."


Brennia downs some more wine at the sight the Daermon as her ink want's to come out to play even more so now and one might be able to match up their bruises and scrapes to puzzle together that they recently got into a fight. "Greetings Dearmon… And not at all, I was just showing Artia the Apothecary Corner I made for her… And I was asking her a favor to whip me up something strong to keep this thing under control." Her stunning blues would connect to his and a thought might transfer, 'I don't want to me another monster you have to deal with.' She sits on one of the stools in the apothecary corner and starts to explain, "I went back home for a while after I learned of Edlin's death…" Her glance to the man's portrait, "That's Quillon, and he helped me find some answers as to what I got inked with. It's not normal and the only ingredient we could find was some enchanted maple? But that's not even half of it as everyone in the Smyth family goes through something called the awakening and it's a violent time where a choice between lightness and darkness needs to be made in order to access our true strengths. This ink only started to materialize after my awakening started…" Brennia offers the wine to Daermon and if he declines she motions to the cabinet with the bat depicted above it which holds special brandy for him.


Daermon moved down the steps, and indeed, he had bruises to match the avians. Though whether it had been a real fight or something again to foreplay was hard to say. Monsters always played rough after all. He took the offered wine, listening to her speak to Artia, having hear this part before as he downed a bit himself, his own thought slipping thru the bond they shared, a reply to hers. 'You are a monster I would gladly deal with again and again.' he promises, caring too much for the woman to not be there for her. His icy blues turn to Artia. "Do you think you could help her with such a thing?" he asks, running his fingers thru Brennia's black feathers.


Artia looked between the two, uh huh, this was interesting. She would drill Daermon about the details later, Brennia didn't need to talk about it. Right now Artia wanted to make sure she was safe and comfortable, even if it meant she had to move in for a bit. She would do such a thing for Brennia, she loved the avian and adored her. Just as much as she adored Daermon, watching him run his finger along her feathers, "You two..I approve of this. But i will definitely try to help Brennia as much as I can. I guess I will be staying the night here, to make sure she is okay." Looking to Daermon, giving him a playful smile, "No ideas Daermon. "


Brennia was oblivious to how much Daermon actually cared about her, but every time she imagines being emotionally intimate with someone again she remembers killing Quillon and she would be a fool to believe her ink would let her get that close to her again. Though Brennia offered a smirk to Dearmon and his kindness, he would feel a pang of guilt coming from her in which made the ink swirl just subtly enough to go unnoticed. Her large onyx shaded wings twitch slightly with pleasure under the vampire's touch and an elongated pointy ear picks up Artia's mention of approval, "Approve of what?" Her stunning blues glance at Daermon with a look of slight confusion, she didn't realize they gave off a certain vibe. When Artia mentions she will be staying the night she couldn't help but to smirk, "Well I have at least one idea…"


Daermon dipped his head slightly to Artia, taking another long pull from the wine, then offering it back to Brennia. He would explain anything she asked. That's just who he was. Though her remark of approval caught him off guard as well. He didn't know what she was referring to, as he'd never needed anyone's approval to do anything. "Ideas? I don't know what you mean. I am a proper gentleman miss." he says, dropping his fingers from Brennia's wings. "And my, a slumber party, how nice for the both of you." he teases gently, offering that roguish smile he often wore.


Artia crossed her arms, rolling her eyes playfull at the duo. Brennia was an amazing lady, Daermon an amazing man, they could be good for the other. Artia just might have to play a possible match maker for these two, "Approve of you two, I can tell something is going on, especially the marking matching each other. It is very evident." Moving up behind Brennia, she swatted her behind, jumping back away from her winking to Daermon, "I am sure you do, but you always have ideas that beautiful mind never stops. But only if you promise to sing to me later, then I will stay. I have one stop to make later, as I promised a friend to help investigate some stuff in Cenril shores." Artia burst into a fit of giggles, "You two are so visible to me, but I guess its because I know you both so well. As for a gentleman, when you want to be other times its hard to..never mind."


Brennia offered an impish smirk to Artia, "Of course I'll sing to you, but unless you want to be totally lost under a trance when I lose control then I suggest we figure out something to suppress the ink… I don't exactly want to get rid of it seeing as it's the only thing that ties me to my family anymore." There was an unbearable amount of sadness transferring to Daermon at the mention of her family, but the way her expression didn't change might show him how strong she might actually be.. They must have really ingrained that countess training in her. She doesn't really advertise she has 'pets' and the thought to say 'He's my pet…' Crosses her mind, but she refrains. "What do you think might help?"


Daermon took his cue from Brennia and didn't explain further on the complexities of their relationship, what there was of it. "Well, I could fight with your monster again to calm it if you like, but you are right, that's not a permanent solution, mostly because I'm not around all the time." he says, moving to the cabinet she had set up for him and taking out a bottle of brandy, popping the cork and downing some. He leans against one of the walls, watching both women as they speak. As he feels Brennia's sadness, his face never changes either, though it pains him and he reaches along the bond, giving the equivalent of a hug and a caress. "Has anyone considered a counter spell written into a new tattoo? Like a lock?" he suggests, having read about magic like that when he was learning enchanting.


Artia stuck her tongue out to Brennia, "No we won't get rid of it, but this awakening thing...need to ride it out. The ink is connected to this awakening, so we need to help stir you towards the lighter side of it. So, first of all we need to keep you relaxed. Seems your thoughts trigger the ink, yes? When you stress or are not happy does the ink move? If so then we need some lavender, and vanilla. The scents naturally relax a person, I can make an esstenial oil and you dab it on your skin. It will work like a perfume, and get into your blood which will work as like an anti-anxiety cure in a way. When all does the ink come to life?" She looked around the apothecary for a writing utensil and something to write on she she doesn't forget anything Brennia mentions, not that she would but the Apothecary has been busy as of late. using her bond with daermon winking in his way, 'You naughty vampire.' "We could try a added tattoo, there is a person named Vasha who does echanted tattoos, maybe she be able to help you while I find a way to stop them from hurting you or anything else."


Nothing Changes, But Something Is Different

Brennia quirks a brow at Daermon as he never ceases to surprise her. Here she thought she was just leashing some horn ball bitey pet, but there's more to this vampire than she thought at first. She felt her sadness shrink away due to his efforts, "That's actually a very good idea, but do you think it would allow me to tap into the power at will that way?" She still wanted to give him wings to take for a joy ride. Brennia answers all of Artia's questions, "It feeds off of my guilt and the darkness I've already inched toward." She points to a scribing desk between the cabinet and apothecary chest; which holds lavender colored paper, golden quill, and ink. "In a few days the ink will become too strong for me to suppress it with just calming thoughts, drink, or herbs… Sometimes it materializes itself into a familiar." She pulls open a drawer from the cabinet and it was grid shaped inside in which holds vials of any scented oils she needed.


Daermon felt the flush of surprise thru their bond and it made him smile. He returned Artia's wink and went on with his thought. "Well, like most locks, it could have a key. It's not a form of magic used often from what I've read, but it could very well help in this regard. A skilled person to write the spell or design it, a skilled tattooist to apply it, making it a lock and key combination with perhaps a time limitor written in, so it could only stay unlocked so long without you unlocking it again. In case the ink takes over..." he was in thought as he leaned, one hand bringing the bottle back to his lips. Brennia allowed her eyes to study Daermon as if for the first time and the more he talked the more attracted she was becoming and he might also sense arousal, "That's well thought out…" She drinks some more of her wine down, this time to maybe fog some of the thoughts he was making her have now. She made her way over to him very closely so they may have a hushed conversation while Artia bustles away in the apothecary corner, "She thinks we are… More than what we are." A soft chuckle escapes her plump lips before bringing her bottle to her lips again. She looked over her shoulder between those onyx masses when she noticed Artia pulled the curtain shut, but she knew what she was really doing.


Daermon didn't move from his leaning position as the woman approached and for the briefest of moments, he felt her thoughts, then they were gone, though his own were hard to deny. The look on her face brought arousal to him, the way she was looking at him to be exact and as he went to speak, his voice caught ever so slightly. Odd that, being he'd had her, seen her naked, fought her and all the other things they'd done, that this was the thing that hitched him slightly. "Thank you. I have been thinking on it since my last visit." his eys follow hers to the now curtained off area. "And yes, she does. But then she doesn't know of what she speaks." he returns just as quietly.


Brennia notices her drink his nearly gone and she walks toward the entrance and further from the corner that Artia is at, "Imagine her trying to set us up…" This prompted another soft chuckle, "Humans are adorable sometimes." She wanted to sound casual of what she speaks, but he might feel this topic makes her a little nervous. Reaching for a full wine bottle she finds a spare corkscrew and opens it herself with ease and starts to poor it in a stemless goblet now. "You've been thinking about me?" Her head tilted slightly, but she goes to correct herself, "I mean, you’ve been thinking about what I do?" Seems she was getting a bit thrown through a loop now.


Daermon followed Brennia, allowing for a touch more privacy as he moved further away from Artia. "She can be silly, but her intentions are good." he admits with a fond smile, though soon enough his glacial hues where watching Brennia again. "I have. You're magic I mean." he corrects, his own thoughts swirling slightly as she was throwing him a bit as well. It was always so much harder when you danced around a subject instead of speaking clearly.


Brennia never had to deal with dancing around a subject before as her dating life was done for her back in her day and she was taken for a slave when she came to Hollow in the first place. "I am sorry to admit, but you don't seem like the type to worry about such things. Seeing as you haven't known me very long…" She sips on her wine before continuing when those striking blue eyes find his, "So, with saying that, why have you been thinking about it, or me at all?" She was oddly cool tempered, but he might feel she was still a little worried for his own safety.


Daermon gave a quiet sigh, setting his bottle of brandy down as he met her eyes. "Because we are so very alike. Because over the last few months that we have been friends and...pets to each other I have found that I care for you. For your well being." it was so painfully obvious that he was trying to hold back. He worried that admitting that he had feelings for her would run her off, or ask him to leave.


Brennia nodded and listened to him intently, "I see what you mean…" She sips her wine a bit more, "I do care for you as well…" Her gaze falters a little and she looks through the glass floor to the clouds passing under them while her glass is set next to his. Images of their passionate nights cloud her thoughts, "I agree we are alike. Anything else?" She didn't understand why she felt the need to ask him that, but there was this metaphorical wall she sensed, if he wanted it to remain then it would remain.


Daermon thought about it for a few heartbeats...or what would have been if his heart still beat. "There aren't exactly words." he says, doing something rather, impulsive and throwing caution to the wind. He scooped her into a tight embrace, lips falling against hers, kissing her tight as he opened the bond, showing her that he was afraid for her, that he cared about her, that he'd missed her while she was gone. Even if he was nothing but a pet to her, he cared. Even unreciprocated he still cared. And would even if she asked him to leave after showing her. It wasn't love, but it was something that perhaps one day could be.


Brennia wasn't exactly expecting such a reaction, but she allowed it to open her eyes to what she had brushed off as a suave gentlemen was actually someone who cares about her and not because she gives affection and pampers him, but because of their shared struggle. When their embrace and kiss ends she reaches her hand for her drink to settle her nerves. "I see…" She said quietly before there was a long awkward pause and he might feel guilt in her heart as all she can think of was when she was forced to kill someone who offered the same feelings to her… Her gaze finally brings itself to his face, "You aren't afraid of what's happening to me?" Her gaze stayed steady to study his face and once he answered this for her then she would offer her reply to his feelings for her, but he might already feel how this new information was making her heart beat a little faster.


Daermon watched her as much as she did him, glacial hues locked her hers. "No. I'm not. I live with a monster inside me every day, and though they don't the same thing, if I don't feed mine, it can consume me, make me do things I wouldn't normally do. I might not be an avian, a woman or deal with your awakening, but I am intimately familiar with dealing with the monster inside. Look close enough in my eyes and you will find it staring back. I don't profess to be good or bad thanks to what I am, I have made my choices and live with them, but no, I am not scared of what is happening to you and I think that perhaps I am uniquely suited to help guide you thru it. What form that takes, is up to you." he says, smiling, offering her a way out, a rabbit hole to flee down if it had all become to real to her.


Brennia listened while tucking some of her silky black hair behind pointed ear and shrinking any distance there was between them so she may plant a sweet smooch on his cheek, since she was 6'2" it wasn't a stretch. She traced a sharp black fingernail over the clothes on his chest, "I would like you help with that… As I have been feeling the same way as you." When she looked into his eyes this time she caught what he meant and for an instance she was able to feel the monster inside her without it taking over and there they were, a couple of monsters playing with fire, a dangerous game. Her face was close to his while she asked, "What do you need to feed your monster?"


Daermon looked down, not far, but down into her eyes. it was so odd having someone nearly as tall as himself so close, something he'd thought of every time they'd been together. Not that her height in anyway dissuaded him. "Then my help you shall have." he whispers now, seeing as she was so close, it didn't seem to make sense to speak any louder. And hand tipped with black claws gently caressed her face down to her throat. "Blood and the occaisional bouts of violence. What about your own? Or are we still learning what it likes to eat?"


Brennia felt his hands on her throat and her might feel a rush from it seeing as he already knows what she likes and she whispers back, "I think I can help you with that… And I think my monster just hungers for power and guilt attracts it… Chaos." Their lips we so close until she gently pulls herself back to sip from her goblet, "May I ask you some candid questions before we continue?" She saunters her way up to the main room so they may sit for their chat.


Daermon follows the woman back upstairs, having thought for the barest of moments she had intended to kiss him. He poured himself some brandy in a glass, then replaced the bottle, finally following her up. "Of course. You can ask me anything you like." he offers.

Brennia's Miniature Castle
After finding your way through the topiary garden it would only be fitting to come upon a building which looks like a section taken right out of a castle in the same style as all of Schezerade, in all it's decadence; marble forming the entirety of the large home accented with gold and platinum in which you'll have to cross over a short glass bridge to reach. The front door is welcoming for all shapes and sizes that are the citizens of Hollow and spans a great distance in it's solid French Door of a design. Opening it up one might be perplexed at the ability for the home to hold such music coming from the main room there, provided the owner of the home is present. Once immersed, the eyes might be stolen by the gaping cathedral ceilings above spotted by gold and platinum in which encircles mini glowing stones to mimic the night sky, but beauty is not what the ceiling is for as it carries one's voice in the ear most pleasing fashion. The walls of the room have shelves carved into the marble upon nearly every wall of this vast oval-shaped room, but the shelves were carved only into small squares, each holding scrolls to nearly any song someone might wish to hear and it should be clear now that a bard lives here; explains the marvelous white-wood, gold-accented, concert grand piano in the middle of this large room. Nearing further into the tiny castle one's nostrils might pick up on the scent of mouth watering food being cooked wafting from the kitchen which is north of the main room and it also holds a small, but elegant dining area as well. A comfortable little nook is off the kitchen for her chef, Zachaël, to reside in for his cooking is to die for and a must to have him as a live-in cook. Beyond that nook there is a winding staircase which travels below and is illuminated as if gold is to be kept down there. If you wish to stay and listen to the bard or wait for her to emerge there are luxurious sofas strew about with the softest throw blankets and plushy cushions, but be careful; an unsettling feeling may overcome you as your eyes spot a locked door to the west with an outreaching design in onyx stone overlay which seems to be inking over into the pristine luxury you’ve found yourself in. It's as if the room beyond holds a darkness that's attempting to leak out into this little slice of heaven… Better just leave that door alone.



Brennia gets herself comfortable on one of her many opulent sofas and once he gets himself situated she allows the question to emerge, "I assume you keep more than just one partner in the bed… Do I assume correctly?" Her leg crosses over the other and her expression was as casual as her feeling inside, he might not understand where she was going with such a question, but she had her reasons. "As you might assume I have more than just one 'pet' currently."


Daermon sits, gets comfortable, even removing his duster and setting it aside, then turns his eyes back to her, listening to her question. "I do, yes." he freely admits. "And you are correct, I do assume you have more than one pet, as I have heard you make mention of them." He didn't judge anyone for the things they filled their time with and enjoyed, they were very alike in their choices after all, though for different reasons. Brennia seemed to smirk a little, "So, how about nothing has to change. We have feelings for each other… I won't really be considering you a pet anymore though…" She thought for another long pause, "Do we need to call this anything?" Her eyes squint either in scrutiny or thought, one can't be sure.


Daermon returned the smirk, though his was more of a genuine smile. "I think that works just fine for both of us. And you can consider me however you like...just remember that you don't have to have your guard up with me if you don't want it. You can be vulnerable. It's ok to need a shoulder or a hug." he says, reaching up to lightly cup her cheek.


Brennia smiles back for a moment, "I'll get to it whenever whatever this is last longer than a small while…" She remembered Quillon in that moment and he would feel that tinge of guilt again, but she interrupts that feeling with gratitude, "Thank you, Daermon." She caresses her fingertips down his arm which was cupping her cheek.


Daermon shook his head, leaning forward to kiss her softly, barely a kiss at all really. "You don't need to thank me Brennia. Not for this." he admits, once again trying to soothe her guilt with the caress thru their bond.


Brennia felt better through their bond and stands up, "You might want to put that back on maybe," She points to the duster he just took off, "I feel like reminding you what flight feels like." A brow quirks down at him, "How about you?" She stretched her massive wings out a bit seeing as she built her castle to allow that to be done in doors and they twitched with pleasure at the nice long stretch, even though the room was large in the castle her wingspan made it feel small.


Daermon wouldn't feel the cold as he stood, shaking his head wanly to her. "No, it'll be less weight for you to carry. I don't need it. But I thank you for the concern. And I'd love a flight...it's been so long..." he says, that soft feeling of sadness tinting his mind, the one that bespoke the missing of a blue kissed sky, the wind thru his hair rufflilng his feathers as he flew.


Brennia sauntered her way out of the castle and whenever he caught up with her she would slip her arm around his waist until they made their wait out and to an open spot in the topiary garden and she would demand, "Okay, stand here…" She found it was easier lifting anyone taller than her if she got a head start and once she paced herself far enough behind him she would say, "Lift your arms out a little, parallel with the ground." As long as he does as she said she would start running to him and thrusting her wings with impressive might until she was right behind him and sort of 'tackle-lifts' him off the ground and up into the darkening skies. The cold of the air would kiss their skin, but her body heat wrapped tight behind him would keep him warm enough if it mattered. The view of Hollow so small and the skies never-ending was always so freeing, she thought to herself at the sight of the endless skies 'This always reminds me of how freeing it was when I escaped my wedding.'


Daermon follows, then does as he's instructed. He stands the way she asks, waiting for her then is jolted into the air. He immediately smiles, unable to contain the soft laugh that bubbles up. He catches the thought, thinking he should show her how to wall her thoughts. For now though, he responds thru their bond. 'I know the feeling entirely.' She needn't worry about him, his undead flesh was always the temperature of his surroundings, unless he fed, then he warmed. The temperature had little sway to what was mostly a dead body, no matter how far he'd come since being turned originally. Barely a vampire at all anymore.



"But... Why?"

Summary: Brennia and Daermon finish a sparing session and something unexpected happens after... These crazy fools go ahead and say those three words, this is how that happened… A bit unorthodox if you ask me!


Brennia's Miniature Castle
After finding your way through the topiary garden it would only be fitting to come upon a building which looks like a section taken right out of a castle in the same style as all of Schezerade, in all it's decadence; marble forming the entirety of the large home accented with gold and platinum in which you'll have to cross over a short glass bridge to reach. The front door is welcoming for all shapes and sizes that are the citizens of Hollow and spans a great distance in it's solid French Door of a design. Opening it up one might be perplexed at the ability for the home to hold such music coming from the main room there, provided the owner of the home is present. Once immersed, the eyes might be stolen by the gaping cathedral ceilings above spotted by gold and platinum in which encircles mini glowing stones to mimic the night sky, but beauty is not what the ceiling is for as it carries one's voice in the ear most pleasing fashion. The walls of the room have shelves carved into the marble upon nearly every wall of this vast oval-shaped room, but the shelves were carved only into small squares, each holding scrolls to nearly any song someone might wish to hear and it should be clear now that a bard lives here; explains the marvelous white-wood, gold-accented, concert grand piano in the middle of this large room. Nearing further into the tiny castle one's nostrils might pick up on the scent of mouth watering food being cooked wafting from the kitchen which is north of the main room and it also holds a small, but elegant dining area as well. A comfortable little nook is off the kitchen for her chef, Zachaël, to reside in for his cooking is to die for and a must to have him as a live-in cook. Beyond that nook there is a winding staircase which travels below and is illuminated as if gold is to be kept down there. If you wish to stay and listen to the bard or wait for her to emerge there are luxurious sofas strew about with the softest throw blankets and plushy cushions, but be careful; an unsettling feeling may overcome you as your eyes spot a locked door to the west with an outreaching design in onyx stone overlay which seems to be inking over into the pristine luxury you’ve found yourself in. It's as if the room beyond holds a darkness that's attempting to leak out into this little slice of heaven… Better just leave that door alone.



Brennia froze in his arms for a moment after his last comment, her stomach doing that flip and her heart fluttering, she was lost for words, until she remembered. He probably calls lots of women love, dear, hun, ect. So she doesn't react to it on the outside, she relaxes once more and doesn't say anything about it unless he wanted to elaborate on it, but that was his choice. She just figured that he didn't really mean it and she reaches an arm back to run a hand through his hair once more in a caring gesture.


Daermon : The cool voice of Barnabus slithered thru his mind. Just tell her you fool. At least then it shall all be out in the open and if she leaves, you'll know that it wouldn't have worked out anyway. Perhaps the shadow being was right. Perhaps...and Daer had always been a man who did and begged forgiveness later if necessary. "Bren...I...I love you." he said softly, perhaps to soft for her to hear, all at once, in a rush. He held a breath he didn't need as he waited to see if she had heard, hoping she hadn't...hoping she had.


Brennia was always so cautious with things like this and once he validated what she felt, but she swallowed down saying it back for the time being. She gently pulled herself away to cover herself in one of the throw blankets on the couch and offering to share the same one with him if he wished to. "Daermon… My Daermon." She couldn't masquerade the smile, but she keeps it cool with a soft one. "Do you really mean that?" Her deep blue's would try to find his gaze in her question, her heart going back to fluttering in her chest. She was certain he had already felt her will to say it back, but her mind was stopping her until it got some answers first.


Daermon wasn't overly discouraged from her pulling away, and he did move under the blanket with her, though barely. He was hot enough from her blood that he didn't want it. He meets her eyes, glacial on oceanic, dipping a slow nod. "I do." he says softly, a gentle hand stroking her face. "I truly do."


Brennia gently pressed her cheek to the caress he offered. She still held down the will to say it back, heart still pounding in his responses. "But… Why?" She wasn't asking because she feels she's unworthy of someone's love and she wasn't asking to lessen this feeling he has of her. She wanted to know that what he's feeling is going deeper than infatuation. She has said 'I love you' to people before to later realize that she didn't because she had to stop herself one day and ask herself why, when she couldn't come up with something about the person other than how said person made her feel, she realized she didn't love them, just loved what they did for her… She didn't want to have someone tell her that to later realize the same thing she did in the past.


Daermon thought about it for a few moments. "I'm old, over three hundred years. I've known love many times, not always reciprocating and rarely lasting for one reason or another. We started as lovers, moved to friends and then something between the two. I think about you all throughout my day, whether I'm with you or not, the bond constantly tugging me in your direction. Lust is all well and good, but if the person isn't fun to be around, there's nothing else there. I enjoy conversing with you, spending time with you." he smiles wistfully. "I practically live here to be closer to you..." he admits softly.


Brennia was quiet for a moment after his profession, a soft smile on her lips and a bit of a twinkle in those eyes of hers. During this time the tattoo ink was swirling on her skin and the blue of her eyes kept shifting from black to blue. 'Ruin it.. C'mon… Tell him to leave.' She started, "And for all of those reasons…" She paused because the spectacle kept happening, 'Don't even finish that sentence, you are so weak giving into him!' She was quietly fighting through to continue, "And more reasons I am sure…" She pauses once more, 'You are weak, weak, weak, WEAK!' She let that smile beam fully this time and he may finally hear her ever so cooly respond in her mind 'I'm stronger than you, you bitch.' She finally finishes her sentence, "I love you too, My Daermon." She leans in for a gentle lingering kiss.


Daermon kissed her back, his mind joined with hers in the bond silence inky for the moment, stronger together than either alone. She might hear the cool tones of Barnabus, voice filled with a smile say, Finally. The vampire kissed the avian deeply and trully that fluttery feeling had only grown rather than leave after they'd admitted their true feelings. 'My birdy, my Brennia.' he whispered thru the bond.


Brennia shifted her legs to rest over Daermon's lap after she gently ended their lingering kiss so she may relax back onto the sofa. She felt a warm inside and her stomach still all fluttery while she couldn't wipe the grin off of her face; seems she was able to win against Inky today. She remembers the images he sent her of Daney and the worry he was feeling, she decides she wants to help him find her. "Now… I would love to hear the story of Miss Daney if you are in the mood for sharing." Zachael enters the room, completely unaware they were… the way they are, and his hand covers his eyes after his abrupt stop. He says something in their native tongue and Brennia giggles softly at the bashful man, replying to whatever he said. The man bows and leaves only to shorty return with a tray of wine, cigarettes, brandy and whisky; averting his gaze all the while. "Food will be ready soon."


Daermon thanked the blushing man, never being one to worry about such things himself. He shifted, getting comfortable with her legs as he relaxed, taking a cigarette, lighting it with a thought and word, then offering it to her. If she took it, he'd light another. He noticed the cigarette holder still behind her ear with a soft smile. "Ah yes, Daney. That's a complicated story. Sometime about a hundred and fifty years ago, lands away from these, I was selling my sword during a civil war. The side Daney was on...they stood no chance. I fought with them, separated from the unit I was with, the last one to live. Night had fallen and as I walked along the dead and dying, I came across Daneyfey Orthallious. She was beautiful, even as she laid bloody and dying. I knelt beside her and offered her immortality. I couldn't save the others in my unit, but surely I could save one."


Brennia gently accepted the lit cigarette with a lingering touch before placing it in her holder and having a drag from it. "Thank you." She was now trying to imagine him in a uniform, she could only smirk at what an attractive sight that must have been. When his story hit a pause she motioned to the drinks, "Whisky or Brandy today, my love?" She felt her stomach do that flip when she said that she liked it. She leaned up to pour herself some wine in a stemless goblet and for him whatever he wanted, if he wanted anything at all. On a side note; "Do you have a favorite meal? I've been meaning to ask… You know, besides me?" She glanced to him and flashes a playful smirk. Aside from that, she waited for him to continue.


Daermon gave a soft smile, taking a drag from his cigarette. "You are welcome." he smiled at the thought she had thru the bond. He showed her thru the bond the memory of the black and gold trimmed uniform he wore that day. "Whisky will be fine love," his stomach fluttered at the new, deeper meaning for the word. "As for a meal, a nice steak and potato always suits me. Aside from you...and spots to the south on the female form." he teases. "She accepted my offer, not ready to die yet. I fed from her, taking all but her life, then fed her my blood in return. It's a magical ritual, much like others, the intent as important as the actual actions. She convulsed and died. I held her head in my lap, waiting for her to rise again. Minutes turned to hours and she did not stir. I was saddened, having promised her a life, but she must have been too far gone I thought. I placed her broken sword in her hands and left."


Brennia handed him his drink and relaxed herself again wine in hand and cigarette in the other as she smirked to the image he offered her, "Very handsome just as I thought." She giggled softly at his mention of lower regions of the female form, that rare sound came so easy around him and he would notice now how different she's become around him since their first meeting in The Hanging Corpse. She couldn’t bring herself to drink the wine she had in her hand as she found herself clinging to every word of this story. When he said she wouldn't wake she genuinely looked sad while letting out an, "Aw… Oh no." He would feel through their bond how his story was soaking up her attention entirely. "What happened?" She urged him to continue.


Daermon winked as she called him handsome, and though he seemed much the same around her since their first meeting, his every mannerism was slightly different, finding excuses to brush against her, to touch her. "Night fell, and I was already long gone. There was none left to collect my money from, so I packed up and moved on. She woke that night, cold, alone...hungry. Looters were looking thru the dead men's pockets and she fell on them, killing two men as she fed in her blind hunger. She remembered me, then cursed my name, thinking I'd abandoned her. She swore vengeance on me for turning her and leaving her to kill with no guidance. She felt a tug, an empty hole that was where our bond should have been. She followed the emptiness. She chased me for over a century, always behind, or close. I wish I could say I'd known her to be there, but I didn't. Even then I had many bonds, and ours not fully formed, I thought her dead. She told me that she had watched me sometimes when I was with other women, wanting to kill me...and other more...dirty things, but had thought herself weak and stayed away, waiting to try to kill me when I was alone. I seldom was, and usually moved on by the time she'd found me again. Almost a year ago, she tracked me to hollow and confronted me near Vailkrin."


Brennia had pulled her legs off of him and was now sitting on her feet in anticipation, still very close to him and she sips her drink slowly and quietly. A surprised look when he mentions her killing, but a smirk to follow, liking this woman already. "Very crafty..." She mentions to the woman's ability to follow someone and going unnoticed. Brennia wouldn't be able to get away with doing that as her wings always give her away. Her brow quirks at his last part, "Oh?" She takes a hit of the cigarette holder, "What did she do?" She was unable to tear her eyes away from him, she loved these stories of his.


Daermon took a drink of his whiskey, his cigarette in the corner of his mouth. "She set a trap in the forest for me. One I barely avoided. We fought, she had me at a disadvantage, but as her elder, I was stronger, faster. I was surprised, I was genuinely remorseful. It put her off and she fled when I disarmed her. We met again shortly after, I returned her sword. Artia had befriended her and become torn between us. As Daney and I faced off to fight, Artia stepped into one of Daney's attacks and was injured. I took Artia, turning my cold eyes to my fledgling and with the voice as her master, commanded her to stop. She was already distraught at having hurt Artia. I told her that I would find her and we would finish it one way or another after I'd seen to Artia. I helped heal her with my blood, left her in Xzaviors care and went to the Hanging Corpse to the room my fledgling occupied."


Brenia seemingly wiggled in place at the mention of her pet, "Hah. Good old Xzavior, fun snakey." She had given him the same type of choker that she had tried to offer Daermon, and looking back on it now she was glad the vampire refused it at the time. "And I am so glad Artia is okay after that." A suggestive snicker followed with the image of what they had done in Artia's spring back at her ranch not that long ago. Again she found herself pulled back into the vampires story. "And then?"


Daermon was glad he had then too...how different things would be had he simply taken that collar. But he was never one for chokers unless he was the one doing it. He grew slightly excited at her images of her and Artia. "Oh what fun..." he replies licking his lips before continuing. "I went to the room from Artia's. She hadn't expected me so quickly, wearing only panties and a thin shirt. I forced her compulsion with my mastery over her, forced her to listen to what had really happened. That I hadn't abandoned her, that I'd waited for hours and hours, only leaving when I'd thought her dead. Then I released her from my hold, telling her we could fight until only one remained. She attacked me, soon we were tussling, fighting, then...something else. Smashing furniture, furious in our lovemaking and when I sank my fangs into her, that hole she'd felt since she'd awoken, the lack of her master filled and our bond was complete. She gave herself to me in every way and begged my forgiveness, the bond showing her the complete truth of my words."


Brennia also felt excited, but when he was mentioning his own exchange with his fledgling. "What a way to reconnect..." She takes in a long sip from her wine. "Where have you been searching for her? Are there places you aren't able to reach that I might be able to because of my wings?" After this story of her she was determined to find her more than ever, "Maybe me, you, and Artia should get together and do a search party for her…. How long as she been missing now?" She was a little surprised he didn't ask anything of her mention of Xzavior, but she just shrugged it away. She wasn't for hiding anything from him and if he had any questions for her, just like him, she would answer.


Daermon hadn't asked about Xzavior...honestly because her other pets didn't matter to him. He didn't care much for the naga himself, from the few interactions he'd had with him he found him to be wishy washy at best. "I don't know that searching for her anymore will help. I can't feel her with the bond...which should only be possible if she's gone from this world. Perhaps she went for a travel, or she's just keeping herself - to herself. I'm not sure. But I do miss her." he did seem a bit sad, but he didn't think looking for her would help. "But yes, that's our story. It was an interesting way to connect."


Brennia attempts doing something through their bond for the first time and ease his worry and sadness of missing her with a caress physically and telepathically. "Well, if she wants to, she will be welcome here when she resurfaces ." Their bond allowed him to feel she was sincere and genuine in her offer. She obviously was not a jealous lover. She relaxed next to him, placing her head on his shoulder, "Would you like to get dressed and have dinner with me?" She imagined him in a nice suit, maybe a tux, or just a simple nice shirt and slacks which made her smirk a bit at how devilishly handsome he would be. "Maybe we can have an actual date to celebrate?" She was mentioning the fact the finally said those three words.


Daermon snuggled her close, slipping his arms around her as he felt the caress, both mental and physical and returned it in kind. "I would love to. I think I have something suitable in my clothes." he admits. "And thank you...for offering her a place to stay. She means a lot to me, even if we've technically only known each other a short time. She's a piece of me, Daermon in sexy female form." And anyone who knew him, knew he loved himself. He'd seen Brennia in beautiful gowns, so he didn't have to imagine it, but he looked forward to seeing her again. 



A Show and A Movie

Brennia's Miniature Castle
After finding your way through the topiary garden it would only be fitting to come upon a building which looks like a section taken right out of a castle in the same style as all of Schezerade, in all it's decadence; marble forming the entirety of the large home accented with gold and platinum in which you'll have to cross over a short glass bridge to reach. The front door is welcoming for all shapes and sizes that are the citizens of Hollow and spans a great distance in it's solid French Door of a design. Opening it up one might be perplexed at the ability for the home to hold such music coming from the main room there, provided the owner of the home is present. Once immersed, the eyes might be stolen by the gaping cathedral ceilings above spotted by gold and platinum in which encircles mini glowing stones to mimic the night sky, but beauty is not what the ceiling is for as it carries one's voice in the ear most pleasing fashion. The walls of the room have shelves carved into the marble upon nearly every wall of this vast oval-shaped room, but the shelves were carved only into small squares, each holding scrolls to nearly any song someone might wish to hear and it should be clear now that a bard lives here; explains the marvelous white-wood, gold-accented, concert grand piano in the middle of this large room. Nearing further into the tiny castle one's nostrils might pick up on the scent of mouth watering food being cooked wafting from the kitchen which is north of the main room and it also holds a small, but elegant dining area as well. A comfortable little nook is off the kitchen for her chef, Zachaël, to reside in for his cooking is to die for and a must to have him as a live-in cook. Beyond that nook there is a winding staircase which travels below and is illuminated as if gold is to be kept down there. If you wish to stay and listen to the bard or wait for her to emerge there are luxurious sofas strew about with the softest throw blankets and plushy cushions, but be careful; an unsettling feeling may overcome you as your eyes spot a locked door to the west with an outreaching design in onyx stone overlay which seems to be inking over into the pristine luxury you’ve found yourself in. It's as if the room beyond holds a darkness that's attempting to leak out into this little slice of heaven… Better just leave that door alone.



Brennia was attracted to the aspect that he loves himself and she places a smooch on his cheek, "Right then. I'm meet you in the dining area." She gets herself up and makes her way to her room then to the large walk in closet she keeps and weather they ended up in the same room he would see her emerge later from the bathroom, seems she has a doorway connecting the two rooms. Her hair was half up and half down with soft cascading curls swirled in the tendrils and the dark sapphire gown she was seemingly poured into expertly complimenting her skin tone. She checks her natural looking make-up in the full length mirror before checking out the backside with the swoop back for her wings and to show off the back tattoos there. She bends out on long legged knee to see the effect of the slit which nearly reaches her hip and it does so perfectly show of just the right amount of skin. She traversed back to the kitchen to await her vampire.


Daemon had waited for her to move off to the bathroom, then had flared his power and stepped away into the shadows, whisking himself back to house Dragana. He didn't think his suit was at the floating castle after all. Besides, he wanted her to see him for the first time dressed up nicely when they met for dinner, not in the room. He stripped down, found his suit among Daney's mess, still pristine in it's fold, then put it on. It was black of course, trimmed in a dark blue. He put on a button up shirt, leaving the top few undone, then a blood red vest and finally the coat that matched the suit pants. He look quite the elegant gentleman. He eyed the ties he owned, bow and other...then opted to go sans tie. He clipped on a pair of dark ruby cuff-links and traveled back to the castle, taking a moment to compose his short hair, then entered the dining room. 


Brennia and Zacheal were having a conversation in their native tongue of Island Vere, such a romantic sounding language being exchanged between them. Brennia places an understanding hand on the man's shoulder. Once her gaze takes in how good Daermon looks it was as if her heart stopped and beat faster at the same time, this explainable feeling filled her and she beamed a soft cool smile, but under the layer of cover up her cheeks were indeed turning a shade or two of red. "Hello handsome." Her sultry voice gently reached out to him and she saunters her way over to the vampire linking her arm under his, "Unfortunately our dinner got ruined, so I asked Zachael to just whip up a couple steaks and some herb roasted red potatoes, any other requests, my Daermon?" Her gaze drifts between all the details of this man as if she were trying to imprint the image in her own mind for keeps, "And I thought while he does this we might be able to catch a show at the amphitheater?" Her deep blues finally connect back into his glacial blues, that thump in her chest cavity.  


Daermon :: Had the elder vampire been asked what the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen was, in that moment he'd have answered Brennia. She looked stunning in her dress and indeed if his heart had beat, it'd be beating fast and hard. She might feel the spike of love and lust that filled the bond. He felt very lucky just then, to see this side of her, something few, if any, saw. "Hello beautiful. And while that is a shame, the replacement sounds wonderful. As for requests, perhaps just a nice wine pairing? Something you like." he says with a smile all for her as he linked his arm with hers. "A show sounds lovely." he says, meeting her eyes, his scruffy face spread ear to ear with a beaming grin. 


Brennia couldn't help but to let her smile widen at his own, by the gods was he so devilishly good looking. This brilliant smile poking dimples in her cheeks and a twinkle in those deep blues. "Then we are off." They would traverse through the gardens and statues in her little nook of Schezerade stopping only for a moment at the beautiful fountain of wishes looking up at the statue, unable to stow that smile he made her smile away. Her free hand grazed the marble of the fountain, "quite a fair night..." She all the sudden felt like a shy school girl trying to talk with her crush for the first time in quite some years. Once the made it past all the elaborate shops Schezerade holds they came upon a grand amphitheater where a play was about to start (probably something Shakespearean) she would allow her date to lead them wherever he wished to sit.


Daermon let her lead him along for a time. He found it adorable that just dressing up had flustered her so. It was one of the things they hadn't spoken of much, his court training. He could wine and dine with the best of them and cut a handsome figure in his suit. Though she certainly outshines him, more than holding up her end of things. The fountain was beautiful as they lingered for a moment. "Indeed it is. Even better with you on my arm." he offered. He picked somewhere in the back, where they were less likely to be noticed. He knew how many avians felt about vampires and didn't want any trouble this night. He was passably human, as long as no one touched him. 


Grand Ampitheatre
The first thing one will notice upon visiting the massive amphitheatre is the amount of detail carved into the stone used to construct it, down to the pillars that hold up the highest seats. The images show various plays that have been performed or may be performed here in the future, along with various musicians and poets, even decorated warriors and elected officials that have come and gone. Stair rails leading to the rows and rows of seats are gilded in gold and the circular stage below is illuminated by a series of small gold lanterns floating overhead and a few more fastened into the stone floor. The stage appears to be set, and elaborately costumed men and women begin moving toward it from behind the painted backdrop made specifically for the play. The audience gathered goes quiet. It looks like the show is about to start.



Brennia isn't involved with the community of Schezerade, and he would quickly find out that there were not many that occupied the city anymore, but she wouldn't have cared where he picked. She would sit directly next to him, sideways glancing him here and there; her wings cover her like some fancy cape. She didn't even know why she felt this way all of the sudden, she knows how courting goes, she's been put through the ringer; every suitor met with a fake smile and boredom in her eyes. Seems this vampire lights a fire in her heart with little effort and when he does give said effort it turns her into some bumbling idiot. She would find some excuse to touch his hands with her own warm ones in attempts to hold hands with him. She kept quiet through the performance allowing her attention to be on the stage.


Daermon :: It was funny in a way, how awkward two people who'd slept together, basically lived together, could be when they were one their first official date. Daer held her hand easily, not minding in the least and found plenty of reasons to brush against her, or touch her here or there. She'd already completely won him, so he was slightly curious as to why she was so nervous. He could practically feel it thru the bond. He turned, ever so slightly nuzzling her ear as he whispered to her. "My dear Brennia, why are you so nervous? Does seeing me dressed so make things...hard? Or perhaps a little… Moist?" he teases, nibbling her ear lobe as the hand not holding hers strokes along the slit in her dress..


Brennia felt herself jump just slightly at his voice in her ear as the second act at had her hooked and his advances were welcomed as she leaned against him now; her hot skin nearly begging for his cooler one, "Your quite the charmer." She whispers back turning her head to him now, her lips so close to his while she continues, "You do make it hard to watch the show, the way you look." Lights flash in the crowd from the stage for intermission, she didn't move from her spot and she tucks some hair behind a pointy ear causing her dangling drop gem earrings to dangle against her neck.


Daermon only nodded, his own lips slightly pressed to hers for a brief kiss before he replied. "I apologize for making it difficult to watch the show. Though I'd be lying if I said that it was easy to keep my eyes off you in that gown..." he says, tracing her bare flesh with a claw tip as he watched her eyes. As intermission happened, they stayed put, likely garnering a few stares, but none approached. "How do you think our date is going so far?" he asks, his deep voice loosing none of it's charm with it's whisper. His words were only for her after all. 


Brennia practically radiated heat and for a long moment she was quiet as she took a slow, shallow, breath. "No apologies needed Daermon." She suddenly didn’t feel in control of things as much as she used to and for a flash of a second that scared her, until she realized who she was fortunate enough to be with tonight. While seemingly looking through his glacial eyes to his soul she felt as if the rest of the world fell away and it was just them, alone. She wasn't scared anymore and she knew that for the first time in such a long time that it was okay to be delicate and venerable with someone. "Our date is going exceedingly well…" She breaks her gaze to glance up at the stars now peeking through the darkness of night, "I would say dinner is probably ready. Would you like to leave during intermission, or wait until the end?" Her gaze travels back into Daermon's own.


Daermon ponders the question, having felt a few of the thoughts. He was perhaps as used to controlling the situation as much as she was, though with her, he didn't really try. The words and actions came easily because he wanted to do and say them. His stomach fluttered at her words about their date. "We can leave whenever you like my Brennia, as this night is yours and yours alone." he offers back, giving her hand a squeeze as he too takes a moment to look up into the stars.


Brennia shifted her hair from one side of her neck to the other, exposing how soft the skin was there, from all the heart pumping she was sure he was able to practically taste her blood. She stands to stretch just slightly before reaching a hand down to the vampire with that playful smirk, "Shall we?" She was making a slight joke at reversing their rolls as if he were the woman, but once he would stand her arm would link under his while her head tilts a bit up to look at him as she was sure not to wear heels on this night, she liked their little bit of height difference. As they made their way through the small crowd they surely earned a few sideways glances, they did look quite the dangerous couple, very good looking, but yeah; dangerous s a good fit. She had a pleasant thought of how perfectly they do fit, but then a flash of a second at the thought of loosing what they had… Mentally waving that thought away as they come to the Fountain of Wishes, lifting a single gold coin from between her bosom and flicking it into the waters, for once keeping her thought to herself and a soft smile at her date.


Daermon took her hand, arm linking with hers and offered pleasant smiles that didn't show his fangs to those that cast glances their way. His thoughts mirrored hers. She was taller than most of the women he'd ever been with, but he didn't mind, he'd lain with giantesses after all. He didn't follow along her thought of losing what they had, simply because such a thought hadn't entered his mind. He was...happy. Very happy with her, with how things were going...As she stopped by the fountain and flicked her coin in, he followed suit, making his own private wish, but giving her a warm smile as he stopped her, pulling her into his arms for a quick kiss.


Brennia watched his coin flip into the air before plopping into the waters just as she was taken into his arms, placing her hands onto his chest she softly smiles up to him and was kissed. "Just what I wished for." She merely jests, but caressed the side of the man's face, one fingertip lingering over the scar there, "Okay, maybe not, but… Close." Her chuckle was short and soft before she saunters her way behind him, linking her hands together after wrapping her arms around the man's chest/waist area; she stole him and flown up with him into the cool night sky. Fancy gown and well done hair be damned; she loves flying just as much as he used to probably. Many flips, twirls, loops, and dives before she comes to the front of her castle with him, landing with much grace.


Daermon gave a soft grin, winking a glacial eye to her. "Me too. Or close..." he teased as she moved around him. He suspected what she intended to do before she did, then laughed as she locked arms around him and scooped him into the air. He smiled, loving flight as she knew, missing his own wings, but who knew, perhaps one day he'd have them again. Until then, being carried by a woman he loved was a nice second. As they landed before the castle, he laughed again, grinning broadly to her as he took her into his arms for another deep kiss. "Keep that kind of thing up and I'll have to reward you..." he teases wickedly, icy gaze full of mischief as he straightened his outfit.


Brennia's Miniature Castle
After finding your way through the topiary garden it would only be fitting to come upon a building which looks like a section taken right out of a castle in the same style as all of Schezerade, in all it's decadence; marble forming the entirety of the large home accented with gold and platinum in which you'll have to cross over a short glass bridge to reach. The front door is welcoming for all shapes and sizes that are the citizens of Hollow and spans a great distance in it's solid French Door of a design. Opening it up one might be perplexed at the ability for the home to hold such music coming from the main room there, provided the owner of the home is present. Once immersed, the eyes might be stolen by the gaping cathedral ceilings above spotted by gold and platinum in which encircles mini glowing stones to mimic the night sky, but beauty is not what the ceiling is for as it carries one's voice in the ear most pleasing fashion. The walls of the room have shelves carved into the marble upon nearly every wall of this vast oval-shaped room, but the shelves were carved only into small squares, each holding scrolls to nearly any song someone might wish to hear and it should be clear now that a bard lives here; explains the marvelous white-wood, gold-accented, concert grand piano in the middle of this large room. Nearing further into the tiny castle one's nostrils might pick up on the scent of mouth watering food being cooked wafting from the kitchen which is north of the main room and it also holds a small, but elegant dining area as well. A comfortable little nook is off the kitchen for her chef, Zachaël, to reside in for his cooking is to die for and a must to have him as a live-in cook. Beyond that nook there is a winding staircase which travels below and is illuminated as if gold is to be kept down there. If you wish to stay and listen to the bard or wait for her to emerge there are luxurious sofas strew about with the softest throw blankets and plushy cushions, but be careful; an unsettling feeling may overcome you as your eyes spot a locked door to the west with an outreaching design in onyx stone overlay which seems to be inking over into the pristine luxury you’ve found yourself in. It's as if the room beyond holds a darkness that's attempting to leak out into this little slice of heaven… Better just leave that door alone.



Brennia was smoothing down her tossed around hair with a beaming smile she teases back, "Oh, I just cannot wait!" She gave a wink back before smoothing her dress down and opens the door to the castle, oddly the castle initially wouldn't smell of freshly cooked food until they passed through the archway to the kitchen, seems it's enchanted somehow. She took her seat at the grand table, again every seat was placed with a setting so the vampire may choose to sit where he wishes. Once Brennia was seated she was served a medium well done stake with a side of herb and roasted veggies; whenever Daermon chose a seat, he would also be served whatever style of cooked stake and the Veggies (including the red potatoes.)


Daermon of course sat across from Brennia, better for conversation should they decide to have any as they ate. He'd never noticed the way the smells didn't travel until just then. It was actually a rather genius enchantment. He unbuttoned the jacket as he sat down, showing more of the blood red vest now. It made one wonder perhaps why a man such as himself might have a suit that fine. Though, there were still many things about his long life his companion knew nothing about. He was served a medium rare steak, the veggies and potatoes looking excellent as he thanked Zachael, then Brennia for always serving such delectable food. His eyes glinted with hidden meaning though.


Brennia aught the meaning, as she never had to make any of the food, causing her to smirk back at him. She drinks down some of her wine, marlot with oaky undertones, before she takes a bite of her food; Zachael earning a brilliant smile from her with a glance. Even though it was not customary she said something in their native language whilst gesturing to an empty seat causing Zachael to blush, but decline politely. She offered from him to join them, but he didn’t want to intrude, nonetheless; Brennia's gaze takes in the sight before her with Daermon in such a dapper suit, "So, I'll assume you had this fine tailored suit just… Laying around?" Again a smirk and a quirk of a brow while she consumes more of her food and wine.


Daermon had actually been commenting on her being his food more often then not, and she was delectable, but regardless, he offered her a smile as he sipped at the same wine she was having. He had told her to pick. "More or less. I don't wear much past the normal leathers and cottons these days. The suit is from a different time, a different life. As a vampire, I have lived many life's, some mundane, some fantastic, but all myself, the good and the bad." he idly comments as he cuts himself a small bite of steak and eats it. It really was delicious.


Brennia maintained a gentle smile for him, slowly sipping her wine now, "Where is this suit from then?" There was that twinkle in her eye, the one she always got when listening to his stories, short or long. She fiddled with the necklace she had put on, her own fingertips caressing at her neck. She relaxes back in the elegant dining chair and crosses one leg over the other, the split in her skirt showing more leg from it. She tucks hair behind her pointed ear again - flying creature problems.


Daermon watched her closely, enjoying the small movements, the way it pulled here or there, tightening her dress. "This was a suit I primarily wore while I held court from the frozen throne in the frozen mansion of the Xalious mountains." he admits softly. It wasn't widely known anymore, but several hundred years ago he'd ruled there for a time before he'd moved on to something else.


Brennia picks away at some of her food, chewing idly while the small tale come and goes, "Short and sweet." She placed her empty wine glass down, not going for more at the moment, "What happened to take you away from the throne?" She was glad he wasn't a ruler type anymore, she wondered how they would even have come to meet if he were. It that moment she did imagine him with a crown, but it caused the imprinted image of Quillon's bloodied face and platinum crown askew to flash in her minds eye. She shamefully blinks just once and slow so she may avert her gaze and attempt to push the thoughts and feelings from her.


Daermon felt the unease thru the bond and without even thinking, reach out that subtle mental caress to help ease her. "As many of the events in my life, it was a woman that called me away. I fell for one, and she served the dark god Coreliant. I left my frozen throne to serve as his right hand. It is a time I actually regret, serving a god of evil for no more gain than the affection of a fickle woman. You would hardly recognize me as that man." he said softly, images of death, and not just killing, but enjoying the killing. Not just men, women and children too and glorying in it. He shuddered ever so slightly, thinking of the man he'd been then. One obsessed with power and pain.


Brennia uncrossed her legs and sat upright in her chair, leaning elbows on the table top while she was listening to his story, unknowingly her tattoo ink found a block to his mental caress, Brennia never even realized her blue eyes flashed black for a moment. After Daermon's images the killing and theft of her father's grown from Quillion's head replaying like some sick reel in her mind. She felt her heart stab with shame and guilt, but on the outside she stayed as calm and cool as she could… Until… Her forehead rests on her palm and she lifts the cloth napkin to dab at her eyes so her eye makeup doesn't make a beautiful mess on her cheeks. "I'm… Sorry. I don't know what came over me." She barely whispered before a soft sniffle. Seems Inky won this round, succeeding in ruining their perfect evening.


Daermon gently placed his hand on hers, having finished his meal some time ago. He made her look at him, even teary eyed. "It's quite alright my love. I told you, you need not be strong all the time. It is partially my own fault, letting my mind flood with those images unfettered." he could imagine exactly what happened as he was getting intimately familiar with Inky and her tricks. Though it might have backfired, as it only made Daermon want to hold her, comfort her.


Brennia blinks a couple times, causing tears to race down her cheeks, her voice was weak and void of it's usual enchantments, "It was thinking how good you would look with a crown, but it only brought me back to how I-… How I murdered Quillon." She lets out a shaken sigh while trying to dab the tears herself once more. "The fault lies with me… Possibly all of it…" Her mention goes to her deceased family, how she ran like a coward from Edlin… She may not be making sense, by now, but of course any questions he had she would answer, "If only I had stayed…" She sniffles gently once more, seems she's been holding it back a while now as this type of wound doesn't completely head and callous over as much as she pretends it has.


Daermon gently, but firmly pulled her into his arms. He merely holds her for a few moments, then speaks softly and kindly. "No Brennia. It's not your fault. You take the blame for something we know is inside you, a malicious thing that did that. You could blame yourself, but the unfortunate truth is, it will not bring him...or them back. Though there is one thing you could do." he says, forcing her chin up so he could stare into her wet eyes. "We can lock it up so that only you have a key, so that only you can let it out and so that it can't hurt anyone on it's own again." he says. Of course he had questions, but how could he ask her? She was upset enough.


Brennia indeed, does feel a little better in his arms she was able fight her Inky with his strength, love and support. She did look up into his eyes, her deep blues still housing some tears, another little sniffle as a nod was given in agreement. She felt so tired, the Inky had to drain her strength quite a bit in order to block the vampire's counter caress before because of their bond and how strong it is. "Can we… Just, go lay down? I'm sorry I ruined this perfect evening…" She lets her hands caress the sides of his face in her apology, again tracing one fingertip gently over the scar. "It was a perfect evening, My Daermon."


Daermon gently leaned forward and kissed her, his words once more only for her. "It's still a perfect evening." he says kindly, for truly it was how he felt. He took her good and her bad and all her demons. He rose, scooping her into his arms, mindful of her wings and gently carried her up the stairs to their room.



Brennia, Meet Shiva

Summary: Brennia meets a new friend during a friendly spar with Daermon.

Brennia's Miniature Castle
After finding your way through the topiary garden it would only be fitting to come upon a building which looks like a section taken right out of a castle in the same style as all of Schezerade, in all it's decadence; marble forming the entirety of the large home accented with gold and platinum in which you'll have to cross over a short glass bridge to reach. The front door is welcoming for all shapes and sizes that are the citizens of Hollow and spans a great distance in it's solid French Door of a design. Opening it up one might be perplexed at the ability for the home to hold such music coming from the main room there, provided the owner of the home is present. Once immersed, the eyes might be stolen by the gaping cathedral ceilings above spotted by gold and platinum in which encircles mini glowing stones to mimic the night sky, but beauty is not what the ceiling is for as it carries one's voice in the ear most pleasing fashion. The walls of the room have shelves carved into the marble upon nearly every wall of this vast oval-shaped room, but the shelves were carved only into small squares, each holding scrolls to nearly any song someone might wish to hear and it should be clear now that a bard lives here; explains the marvelous white-wood, gold-accented, concert grand piano in the middle of this large room. Nearing further into the tiny castle one's nostrils might pick up on the scent of mouth watering food being cooked wafting from the kitchen which is north of the main room and it also holds a small, but elegant dining area as well. A comfortable little nook is off the kitchen for her chef, Zachaël, to reside in for his cooking is to die for and a must to have him as a live-in cook. Beyond that nook there is a winding staircase which travels below and is illuminated as if gold is to be kept down there. If you wish to stay and listen to the bard or wait for her to emerge there are luxurious sofas strew about with the softest throw blankets and plushy cushions, but be careful; an unsettling feeling may overcome you as your eyes spot a locked door to the west with an outreaching design in onyx stone overlay which seems to be inking over into the pristine luxury you’ve found yourself in. It's as if the room beyond holds a darkness that's attempting to leak out into this little slice of heaven… Better just leave that door alone.


Daermon had been spending almost all his free time with Brennia, or at her castle. He'd slipped out of her bed sometime early that morning, leaving her sleeping as he'd padded barefoot out to her garden, loose fitting pants on, scabbarded long sword in his hand. He drew the blade, working his way thru the sword forms taught in his youth. They were all ingrained in his muscle memory now, but habits die hard and he still liked to practice every now and then. He moved the heavy blade as though it weighed nothing. There was a beauty in the sword forms and a serenity he struggled to find elsewhere in life. It was his version of meditation, his mind a void, able to examine things clearly and right now as he danced thru his movements, he thought of Brennia and their new found romance.


Brennia didn't wake in his early rise, but after a moment of the vampire being gone she was being sent into a nightmare. A quickened breath and a cold sweat coming from the sleeping Avian while her dreams her taking her under into a much darker tone, there was out of tune piano playing and the vampire woman who used to look after her, holding her hand over Brennia's mouth. Something was off in the dream as the woman had no face, it was a bit creepy and Brennia felt a panic as she watched a pair of hair cutting shears dig into the woman's neck, but blood didn’t come out of the corpse, just some black gooey looking stuff oozing from her. The liquid trails to Brennia as if it were magnetized to the Avian and once it touches her skin it spreads out to the beautifully intricate pattern she knows today. Instantly her dream pulls her back to the Count's room where she killed Quillon and it replays the act for her over and over, changing face to all of her lovers. Brennia stays asleep through all of this while her ink was shifting over her body and the massive onyx wings hardening to stone then back again.


Daermon's meditative state shattered under the weight of Brennia's mind in the bond. Perhaps unconsciously she was reaching out for him. He stumbled in his sword form, stopping and closing his eyes, concentrating his mind to direct that soothing caress to the female. Her nightmare would waver and unless she pursued it, it would pop like a bubble, the calm comfort of another monster snuggling her mind. 'Shhhhh love...' he whispered softly.


Brennia's mind was easily calmed by the vampire and she got up wiped her face of tears and slipped off her clothes to make her way to the hot spring next to her home to relax further. She could feel he was still close, but he must have gotten up early for a reason, 'Apologies for the distraction, My Daermon…' She was still a bit hazy when she woke up, but did he call her 'love'? If so what does he mean… Wait, he probably calls all the pretty ones, love. She dips herself into the hot spring and starts to relax, things were to great between them, she hears a familiar voice in the back of her mind, 'I wanna test it, ruin it.' Brennia mentally shoves it out and mentally reprimands inky for thinking such a thing.


'No worries darlin.' he replies back. 'I'm out in the garden if you feel like joining me.' he offers, picking his sword back up and going back into the dance. He hadn't heard the other soft voice. Though he likely would have laughed at Inky. It would be hard to ruin it, as Daermon had come to the realization that he cared quite a bit for the avian.


Brennia thought about it for a long moment, but forced herself to get up from the hot spring, she does need to stop being so afraid that her darker side will manifest once more and putting her training to use might be helpful. She made her way back to her room to adorn the simple blue shirt and leather leggings back on and made to the wine cellar while wrapping her hair up into one single tie. She finds her weapon of choice down there, a couple of Sai Daggers from the weapons case she kept hidden in the cellar. The daggers were impressive, sharp, golden and platinum and on the way out she gives them a little twirl from her skilled hands… She's still got it. Once she reached the Garden she watched only for a moment as she was sure he was already aware she was standing there from their imprint, but she was quick to jump in front of the vampire's blade, stopping it with impressive strength by crossing the daggers in front of her, over her head, accented with a smirk.


Daermon gives an appreciative whistle, at he block and her attire. "You look beautiful as always." he complimented. The blade was retracted from her crossed sais. Avians had a great strength to them, and she might be close in physicality to the vampire. He moves the large blade fluidly and easily, spinning around to strike again, this time horizontally at her rib level. "Normally I wouldn't practice with sharpened blades with someone I've never seen fight with them. For safety's sake. But I could heal any damage I hurt...short of death. So I suppose we'll be alright."


Brennia twirls her daggers before she blocks the side he swung at and shoves it away with a 'shiiing' sound coming from it. She wraps her wings over her and they look as if some expensive cloak. Brennia's jaw was clenched and her hair pulled back reveals more of her bird-like features, but her unwavering large iris's deepest of the bluest ocean had to be the most unnerving; one might wish that black Inky gaze over this one since she looks ready for a good spar. Her arms outstretch left then right and then jab below with impressive speed, but her aim was purposefully off. Landing the left and rights near his ear, so close he might hear them whoosh by leaving a whipping sound in the air. She would give him a moment to take in this warrior side of her, as it was different than Inky's wild approach, but Inky hasn't exactly had the rigorous training as Brennia has.


Daermon nods, not finding this side of her to be off putting at all. He'd grown up around warrior women and tended to lean towards that kind in his romantic pursuits. Always nice when one could defend themselves from enemies. He held up a hand, turning his back to her and moving to the scabbard propped on a bench. "Since we are sparring, and you have me at a bit of a disadvantage in close. And I don't want to fight as hard as I might need to with the longsword, again, accidents can happen, so if you don't mind, I'll change it up." he sheathed the sword, then drew two daggers from their sheaths on the scabbard. They were about a foot long, including the hilt and he flipped one of them into and underhanded grip, one blade up, one down. "Better and more manageable for a friendly spar." The longsword was more deadly than she knew and he did not want to risk her life. That thought, that deep...something might flicker past the walls he had in the bond to her.


Brennia waited silently, just watching just waiting, it was just plain creepy. Her mind wasn't closed off from him, but he would hear something going on in her mind as if it was some sort of focusing ritual, in her native tongue of course. She replied in kind to flipping one of the daggers in the blink of an eye to the back of her forearm, reaching just past her elbow. Brennia bowed deeply to her opponent crossing one fist over her chest as a sight of respect before righting herself, so poised, so deadly, but a soft smirk tugged just for a flash of a second from the feeling he sent her. She advanced, and fast quickly moving the but of the dagger to his ribs from a slightly crouched position; she rights herself with a spin-away and outstretched the other arm, bringing the tip of her dagger to nearly touch the vampires nose.


Daermon was keeping his mind to his mind as much as he can. And while she was chanting in her mind, there was a pleasant void, like floating in the ocean in his. His fighting style had been taught to be calm, the stillness before great violence. He returned the bow, then snapped back into a defensive posture. She moved fast, though his eyes followed and as she aimed the butt of the dagger to his ribs, he took the hit, concentrating on the blade coming towards his nose. Grunting from the blow to the ribs, he jerked his head back, avoiding the cutting blade. As she went to spin away, he used the forward moment from the head jerk to do a front flip, leading with the heel of his foot.


Brennia was brought to a knee and her arms crossed to block the blow of this foot, again, shoving him away just as she does a reverse somersault to put some distance between them so she may get to her feet again. Feet shoulder width apart and knees bent she gives a twirl of her daggers once more before advancing on him again, left, right, jab with the retracted dagger, even if she were to connect she would soften the blow so it just felt more like a poke. Brennia's soft grunts sounded harsh and tough, but still sounded very hot, I mean poor girl can't help it. Her footwork was calculated and delicate as she was barely making any noise besides her grunting.


Daermon rolled back from the blocked strike, springing back to his feet at nearly the same time as her, then charging to meet her. He was barefoot, though it was hard to believe he'd make noise even if he was wearing them. He was utterly silent. The still of the grave. Metal screeched and rang as he parried her blows, hands working in quick concert, then it was his turn, stepping forward and thrusting and slashing, low, high, left, right, left and ending with a kick aimed for a leg, hoping to take her from her feet. He registered how slightly...sexual her noises were, but in the void he didn't have time to be distracted by such things. One of his former teachers had insisted on training nude to help him learn to block such a thing. She had been a beautiful and buxom woman too.


Brennia twirls between jabs to block them or dodge them, they were quite an even match it would seem, but when he went to tip her assuming he had to crouch down to do so she would simply hop up, place a barefoot on the vampires chest and propel herself off the man; doing a flip in the air while her massive wings assist. Gently, she floats back down to the soft ground with a smirk shrinking any distance within a half of a second, bringing his favorite scent so close to him and her soft body pressed to him. In doing so, might distract him enough to not notice her foot planted behind his heal, while the palm of her hand opens to the bottom of his jaw in hopes so end him flat on his ass.


Daermon found her movements to be beautiful. He admired them from outside the void. As she kicked back off of him, floating down then rushing, he tried to move back away, but he'd made a mistake, having lost a bit of his concentration at her nearness, allowing her to catch him with her heel and palm, sending him tumbling down. As he falls, he throws the dagger in his right hand, pommel first towards her chest, not as hard as he could, but enough to rob her of breath if it caught.


Brennia was at his left side and she attempted to block the weapon with her left, but it caught hold of the sia dagger and sent it twirling from her, but her expression did not change, it did not soften as she mounts the vampire, crouching over him and placing her knees on his biceps to trap him while the safe dagger end gently pressed to his neck. Her smirk was cocky and arrogant, seems she hasn't even broken a sweat. Her wings arc out as if a bird cornering it's prey, nearly something animistic about her while her seductive silky tone speaks, "Any last words?" She was quite the dangerous birdy.


"That perhaps taking it easy on you was a mistake as it's clearly given you a big head." he says teasingly. If she thought for a moment that her weight was enough to hold him down, she'd be mistaken. Even like this he had options, though it wasn't unpleasant being mounted by the avian woman. It was that time, the large black wolf made her presence more known. Brennia had enough time to perhaps gasp, as she was rammed by a wolf about the size of a bear, standing over Daermon, ears back, hackles raised and growling, fixing Brennia with ice blue eyes nearly identical to Daermon's.


Brennia's soft chuckle was cut short by the beast of a wolf as she was knocked onto her back this time, she was about to get off Daermon anyway and when Brennia brings herself to her elbows she takes in the magnificent creature. The large human-like eyes, the massive stature, it reminded her so much of 'Alareik…' She knew it wasn't him and sadness panged in her heart for the lost love. Brennia got herself into a crouched position and arched her wings to make herself seem larger, her eyes locked on the animal, it wasn't the first time she's had to battle a wolf, or lycan for that matter. She would attempt to do the same thing she had to with Alareik's wolf form after he passed. She bowed her head to the animal, trying to relate to the primal creature, unknown that his mind was connected with the wolf's. Her arm outstretched and palm up , trying to win it over.


Daermon :: The large wolf looked suspiciously at her hand, though Daermon set a comforting one on her flank. 'She is a friend. We were...wrestling.' he says to the wolf-ling, who stopped growling and turned her eyes to meet his. 'Silly people with your shiny fangs. Should of let her have you then.' He smiled and she moved off him towards Brennia, no longer threatening, but curious as she sniffed her. 'She smells like you,' to which Daermon laughed heartily as he rose to his feet. He told Brennia what she said. "She wants to know if we are mates." he teases.


Brennia quirks a brow with a gentle smile for the wolf-ling, "So you've bonded with this wolf too?" Her tone was more interested than jealous sounding. Brennia now turned her palm down, which is a request to pet the wolf while her deep blues take in the creature with admiration while she lowered herself to her knees at the level of the wolf and tucked her wings tight beside her curves. Brennia speaks to the wolf, "We are mates," A smile and a glance with that familiar deep feeling was thrown his way before turning her attention back to the animal. "What is your name?" Her tone now was soft and alluring, still attempting to win the beast over, she knows how important that is.


Daermon :: "I have." the vampire says, explaining the circumstances of finding her injured in the woods and using his blood to heal her. The odd effect causing her to grow to the huge form and to bond with the vampire. The large wolf, taller then Brennia with her on her knees leans forward into her hand. "She approves of us as mates." he says, rolling his eyes as if he needed the wolf's permission. "And she had no name, I named her Shiva." he says, moving to stand beside the large wolf as she sat.


Brennia's hand was gentle on the wolf went from the top of the animal's head to the back of her ears then down her breast, "You are quite magnificent, Shiva." He might feel how in love she was with the creature already, as it reminded her so much of someone she loved. Brennia stands and mentally sends him a message, 'I think I'm going to have to get rid of the white wolf rug in my room, wouldn't want her to get the wrong idea of me.' She starts to saunter back into her castle, "Come now, Shiva. Lets get Zachael accustomed to your appetite as I am sure you will be spending most of your time here." She glances over her shoulder, between wings to Daermon, "No?"


Daermon dipped his head. "I'll clean up then and join you momentarily. Would you like me to put your sai's away?" he asks, stowing his gear and putting it on him as the large black wolf had begun to follow the woman. She was as expressive as she could be, having given a woof of agreement when Brennia suggested speaking to Zachael. Thru their bond, Daermon told Brennia, 'I'll take care of that as well.' speaking of the fur.


Brennia was easily able to pet the beastly wolf at her side and she forgot how much she missed Alareik trotting next to her, "Yes please, my Daermon." She brought the wolf with to wake up Zachael and it startled him, so much so he was cursing in their native language. Brennia introduces Shiva to him saying, "She will be staying with us indefinitely, just like Daermon…" Unknowingly making their hint of him living with her a bit more permanent. 'Thank you, be careful with Alareik.' She had turned her twice murdered ex into a rug… How morbid. Brennia took the large raw stake from Zachael and crouched down to offer the platter to the wolf, not before bowing her head to her as we know odd habits die hard. She was waiting for something, maybe all wolves to it, but she was waiting for the wolf to press the top of her head to her own bowed head as it was a sign of trust.


Daermon :: Shiva looked at her, head cocked, that way animals do when they are trying to understand something. Then she licked the woman's face instead of touching her head. As it wasn't something she knew, it wasn't something she'd do on her own. The way she'd shown affection so far to Daermon had been like a dog, licks and rubbing herself along the man. She bent down and ate the steak happily. Daermon did as she asked, taking her weapons to the hidden spot in the cellar, having seen it the first time he'd been down there. Then slipping up to removed the rug, carefully taking it to a different room and stowing it for her. He doubted Shiva would mind, but Brennia had asked, so he would handle it, before he finally joined the pair.


Brennia took the licking instead with a soft giggle, that rare sound she made before clearing her throat a bit and pressing herself to the vampire once he joined them, "That was oddly relaxing, us sparring without Inky getting involved, that is." She let her hair down now and it dangled about her waist, straight, heavy and silky. "Are you hungry as well?" She brought her lips to whisper to him, lips nearly caressing his ear. She traced a long pointed fingernail down the man's neck softly ending where his shirt starts.


Daermon shivered under her touch, pressing himself back to her. "Indeed it was. Perhaps we should make a habit of it. I find it very...thought clearing. Same with firing a bow." he says, nuzzling against her. "Always...for you." he says, tracing his lips over her flesh as he spoke. Shiva had finished her steak, turning her too human eyes to stare at them. Daermon laughed softly, then explained to Brennia. "She says we smell like wolves do before they mate. And she says she will give us some room to do so, exploring your home with your leave." Such a polite wolf-ling.


Feeling So Complete

Summary: Brennia thinks up a love song for her Daermon, something she's never done before.

Song Credit: Jess Glynne - "My Love (Acoustic)"

Brennia's Miniature Castle
After finding your way through the Topiary Garden it would only be fitting to come upon a building which looks like a section taken right out of any castle in the same style as all of Schezerade, in all it's decadence; marble forming the entirety of the large home accented with gold and platinum in which you'll have to cross over a glass bridge in order to reach it. The front door is welcoming for all shapes and sizes that are the citizens of Hollow and spans a great distance in it's solid French Door of a design. Opening it up one might be perplexed at the ability for the home to hold such music coming from the main room there, provided the owner of the home is present. Once immersed, the eyes might be stolen by the gaping cathedral ceilings above, spotted by gold and platinum in which encircle mini glowing stones to mimic the night sky, but beauty is not what the ceiling is for; it carries one's voice in the ear most pleasing fashion. The walls of the room have shelves carved into the marble upon nearly every wall of this vast oval-shaped room, but the walls are shelves, carved into small squares. Each square hold scrolls to nearly any song someone might wish to hear and it should be clear now that a bard lives here; explains the marvelous white-wood, gold-accented, concert grand piano in the middle of this large room. 
Nearing further into the tiny castle one's nostrils might pick up on the scent of mouth watering food being cooked wafting from the kitchen which is north of the main room and it also holds a small, but elegant dining area. In the corner of this kitchen there is a winding staircase which travels below and is illuminated as if gold is to be kept down there. If you wish to stay and listen to the bard or wait for her to emerge there are luxurious sofas strewn about with the softest throw blankets and plushy cushions, but be careful; an unsettling feeling may overcome you as your eyes spot a locked door, which houses a staircase to take you up, with an outreaching design in onyx stone overlay which seemingly inking over into the pristine luxury you’ve found yourself in. It's as if the area beyond holds a darkness that's attempting to leak out into this little slice of heaven… Better just leave that door alone.


Brennia has been feeling drastically better as of late and all thanks to her Daermon all the while pushing the darkness into the corners of her mind for now. In the small times her partner left her alone to the confines of their castle which only seems to be expanding. After the morning had passed and he bid her a heartfelt farewell she had begun writing out something she's been realizing more and more in their time together. This something was hard to put into words for a song, but for now it would have to do and once the lyrics were poured out she gently worked on the piano for a gentle, serene and happy tune to follow as this wasn't going to be just a generic love song, but their love song. She didn't want to pair the lyrics with the melody of the piano, yet: So she just sits at the piano with that perfect posture, eyes closed and fingertips gingerly pressing into the keys all the while trying to not tie bard magic to it for once.

"There's nothing more that I would have that I could need
Cause having this means that I've got it all
When I was taking turns and you were wrong for me
You chose to understand and let it go"

Daermon had gone out to handle a bit of business for the clan. He'd bid Brennia a wonderfully sappy and heartfelt farewell, saying it should only take a few hours. Aarika had all but vanished lately, so he'd taken more of the leadership, but he didn't intend to do it for long. If he'd wanted to run a mercenary company, he'd have started his own. When he returned, he was trailed by Shiva, Barn conspicuously absent beside the large wolf. Daermon stopped, looking Brennia over as she hovered over the keys. Silent steps took him to her side, Shiva snuffling at her. "What are you doing, my love?" he asks softly.

"And oh
You've turned this black heart and made it into gold
So I wanna let you know that"

Brennia practically felt his return as her wings fold in close to her (once again) curvaceous form. She stopped the playing softly to smile up at him, "Welcome back, my love. How did everything go?" She looked into the eyes of the large wolfy snuffling her with the same grin poking dimples into her cheeks, "Hello, Shiva.. Always a pleasure to have you about. I think Zachael might have a nice juicy treat for you in the kitchen." She reaches out a hand to gently message the spot behind the wolf's ear and she assumed Barnabus would be about as well, but didn't care at the moment. She scoots over to the side of the bench to allow Daermon to sit with her. "And I believe I have whipped up a pleasant treat for you." Her eyes twinkle with hope as her stomach is doing flips from nervousness even thought her exterior doesn't hint at it one bit.

"My love and my touch, up above is made with the warmth of my,
My love and my touch, up above is made with the warmth of my love
Love"

Daermon gives a nod to the wolf who began dancing at the word treat, and she padded off happily as Daermon took the offered seat, letting his gaze linger on her curvaceous form for a moment. "It went well enough. I told them to stop pestering me, I am not the leader and no, I don't know where Aarika went. We'll see if they listen." he says with a shrug. "And a treat? I do so love your treats." he says, eyes twinkling with mischief. "But first," he says, leaning in to steal a long, slow kiss from her plump lips. "That's better," he says, breaking it a moment later to meet her eyes. "Please continue." he says, hooked on her...every word.

"Control is such an open-ended word for me
Something that I used to think I owned
I'm standing here with none, I'm feeling so complete
You helped me understand to let it go"

Brennia watched Shiva pad off to the kitchen so happily which caused a soft giggle from Brennia. When Daermon told her of his day her eyes admired him as they do while a hand reached up to smooth his hair back and play in it for just a moment. The kiss was greatly welcomed with a soft pleasured hum only to shape those plump lips into a smirk when he left them. "I agree… That -is- better." She paused for a moment revealing the sheet music she didn't actually need, "I've been working on a song since you left this morning… Something I have been thinking about since my most recent return." Her deep oceanic blues look into his glacial ones, "Something I have been feeling about you, about us." A flutter of nervousness again as she sits up straight once more closing her eyes again, one wing curling behind him lovingly before the gentle and short intro of the song rang out and up into the cathedral ceilings of their home. Once the lyrics start, he could read along the sheet music before them on how the song talks of having everything she could ever need. When times are tough they show each other understanding, patience, love and affection. How he's taken her darkest times and turned them into the light. Where she let herself be venerable with him and that it was okay to need someone to pick you up when you are down. What this all means to her and that she wanted to let him know with more than just words and more than just song, but through their connected he could feel it, too. The song wasn't long as she kept it simple and sweet and it came to a gentle end while tears threatened the rim of her closed eyelids.

"And ohhh
You've turned this black heart made it into gold
So I wanna let you know that"

Daermon returned the smile of the woman, then looked to the sheet of music as she spoke. The notes were of course lost on him, having no musical talent in his body, one of the few things he couldn't do. As she sat up, began to play, he forgot about the sheet entirely. He gave her all his attention, and when she was done, he leaned down and kissed her again, holding her face in his hand lovingly, brushing the few tears that did fall. "Thank you." he says quietly, his own voice unsteady, heavy with emotion and the bond simply filled to the brim with the love and adoration he felt towards the woman.

"My love and my touch, up above is made with the warmth of my,
My love and my touch, up above is made with the warmth of my love"

Brennia felt his emotion fill her through their bond and simply teared up a little more before her voice betrays said emotions, sounding confident and sure she mentions, "I am glad you like it… I wrote it for you… It's all for you." Her hand gently caress the sides of his face over the scruff beard on his jaw while her dark blue eyes connect into his glacial ones, "I do truly love you Daermon… My Dearmon." A soft smile tugs at the corners of her mouth until those adorable dimples poked into her cheeks. One of her hands move up into his hair gently smoothing the short messy tresses, "When I am with you I feel everything is alright and everything is so easy." Her voice got a little quieter, "I have loved and been loved, but I've never felt this way before." She wasn't expecting him to return the said words, she just wanted him to hear it.

"Stay close to me, love
Stay close to me, yeah, love
Stay close to me, love"

Daermon leaned into her touches, small movements like a cat when being stroked by their favorite person. "I don't just like it. I love it. As I love you." he says, his hands gently taking one of hers, icy blue meeting the dark. "I truly love you back. I didn't expect it...not with how we started." he admits, a soft smile on his face. "You understand everything about me so easily, accepting it all. I've been in love before, had others who loved me, but it was different. Is different." he says, squeezing her hand. "Butterflies are too small for the way you make me feel. Bats maybe, or birds." he teases lightly, gently cupping her face as he moved towards her, knowing her tears were more happy than sad. His lips were very near her own as he whispered. "My love, my birdy, my Brennia." the distance closes as he presses his lips to hers. 

"My love and my touch, up above is made with the warmth of my,
My love and my touch, up above is made with the warmth of my love"

Brennia felt that flutter of excitement again when he returned her every thought. Their unorthodox way of meeting and coming together and how she certainly didn't plan for this. Coupled with their unorthodox relationship and way of expressing their love for one another, but she would have it any other way. Her thoughts on this would of course be available through their permanent bond and she felt so free, open and complete now. When he gave her a kiss she returned it as her hands move to the back of his head to deepen their kiss and slow it down. She would break the kiss momentarily and press her forehead to his with a meaningful gentleness and close her eyes. This moment needed no words, no more gestures, no more moves: just them holding one another in this tender and raw moment. She goes back to kissing him again with those plump lips lingering on his and emanating pure passion mixed with love and lust.


Daermon had felt the flutter since the first few notes on the piano. But then, she had that effect on him. Yes, they were unorthodox, even by his own standards of relationships, yet, they worked. They worked better than perhaps any other relationship he'd ever had. He couldn't remember a single actual fight between them, or a real disagreement. Not because they didn't care as some people said about people who didn't fight, but because they tended to fall on the same side of things. As she rested her forehead against his, he sighed softly, content, but then she was kissing him, the entire tone different now and he responded in kind, lust, passion and fire in the heated kiss he gave. 


Soul Fractured

Summary: Brennia had took a little time away without warning or a note. When she finally returns home, Daermon is not far behind.

Brennia's Miniature Castle
After finding your way through the Topiary Garden it would only be fitting to come upon a building which looks like a section taken right out of any castle in the same style as all of Schezerade, in all it's decadence; marble forming the entirety of the large home accented with gold and platinum in which you'll have to cross over a glass bridge in order to reach it. The front door is welcoming for all shapes and sizes that are the citizens of Hollow and spans a great distance in it's solid French Door of a design. Opening it up one might be perplexed at the ability for the home to hold such music coming from the main room there, provided the owner of the home is present. Once immersed, the eyes might be stolen by the gaping cathedral ceilings above, spotted by gold and platinum in which encircle mini glowing stones to mimic the night sky, but beauty is not what the ceiling is for; it carries one's voice in the ear most pleasing fashion. The walls of the room have shelves carved into the marble upon nearly every wall of this vast oval-shaped room, but the walls are shelves, carved into small squares. Each square hold scrolls to nearly any song someone might wish to hear and it should be clear now that a bard lives here; explains the marvelous white-wood, gold-accented, concert grand piano in the middle of this large room.
Nearing further into the tiny castle one's nostrils might pick up on the scent of mouth watering food being cooked wafting from the kitchen which is north of the main room and it also holds a small, but elegant dining area. In the corner of this kitchen there is a winding staircase which travels below and is illuminated as if gold is to be kept down there. If you wish to stay and listen to the bard or wait for her to emerge there are luxurious sofas strewn about with the softest throw blankets and plushy cushions, but be careful; an unsettling feeling may overcome you as your eyes spot a locked door, which houses a staircase to take you up, with an outreaching design in onyx stone overlay which seemingly inking over into the pristine luxury you’ve found yourself in. It's as if the area beyond holds a darkness that's attempting to leak out into this little slice of heaven… Better just leave that door alone.



Brennia was making her own way in her mind to come to terms with the new information she's received thanks to the stranger, Joshua, and his dealings with rare books. Seems the specific volume which was believed to have been stolen turned up and was sold decades ago to the merchant. In fear of lashing out physically or with words she kept herself hidden until her bare feet land her on the glass bridge which leads to her castle, book in hand. This was a rather large leather bound book and adorns the same tattoo pattern as the Smyths... Funny thing that tattoo which has been plaguing Brennia all this time, it's faded, so much so it's almost nonexistent on her warm toned skin. She looks tired and weak, almost hollow. Whether she has been she hasn't been taking care of herself, but nonetheless she pulls the French doors open with a force to be reckoned with. Such sadness comes over her even though there is still the fire of anger burning deep inside her. Zachael appears to her with worry, they exchange words in their native tongue, he nods and disappears to the cellar. She attempts to calm herself a little while closing her eyes and taking a deep breath of her home into her, but fails and tosses the book a little too hard... okay it's more like a throw... very vicious throw across the large main room of her castle awaiting Zachael's return.


Daermon had been worried, wracked with worry in fact as it seemed most of those he cared for had vanished, Bren included. He'd spent many nights at the castle, hoping for word, or her return. Finally he'd joined with the steel collective, finding a bit of companionship, if not anything more with the men and women there and had left the castle. His things, the ones he'd moved from House Dragana remained, signaling his return at some point, but he slept most nights wherever the band slept. He'd tried to reach out thru the bond to Brennia with no luck, her walls thick and solid. He'd tried to find her, equally with failure. Giving up, he'd sank into the work with the band until one day, suddenly, there she was in his mind again. The bond was easily traced, her location one he knew well as he flared his power, startling those of the band in the tavern where they'd been drinking and stepped thru the shadow plane to the castle in the sky, emerging from the shadows, booted feet loud on the stone floor as he stepped from the shadows behind her. More than ten feet separated them, though he studied her, sure she'd know he was there soon enough. He himself looked much the same, though there was a tightness to his features that had not been there before.


Brennia was conflicted between many emotions and one was mostly frustration, frustrated because she can't ask the one person she is angry with the most 'why?' Frustration from the years she spent under the same roof as this person she has come to barely recognize. Zachael comes back shortly after Daermon appears to see Brennia turn to face him, nearly tattooless. She can't explain the loss she feels about that as well, or the relief and she can see Zachael is scared to even breath, so she motions him over with the thing he retrieved for her. Her presence and voice is lacking of its usual airs and seductions as she thanks Zachael while motioning for him to set the portrait down. Brennias deep blues take in Daermon, through their bond he could feel her excitement to see him, but it's quickly taken over with guilt and then to fear to make a move.... he seems angry and she waits.


Daermon watched her cautiously, her darkness having taught him that lesson, though, he notices the lack of ink, quickly looking to Zachael. None there either. Perhaps another person. He sniffed, reaching out with his senses. As far as he could tell, it was just the three of them. His eyes flick to the painting, that glacial blue seemed a bit colder now though as he met her gaze, her flinching gaze? That was new. "So you've returned." he says softly, voice nearly dead, though there was a pain in the bond. He felt her as surely as she'd feel him. Elation at seeing her, confusion at the lack of contact, of anything...loneliness, a glimpse of how he'd spent every night alone since her leaving and a tinge, no matter how silly, of anger. He'd thought he was more than just a pet, that he would have garnered at least a note, something. All that is transmitted thru the bond.


Brennia felt his loneliness and it made her feel pitiful as she looked away, gulping hard and tears lining her eyelids. She took a shaken deep breath while making her way to the portrait of her family and she barely rasped out, "I didn't even realize how long I've been gone... M-my Daermon..." She didn't even feel worthy of calling him her love at the moment and she can't even look at him. Her eyes rest on the stoic visage of her father and he would surely feel her rage, but remarkably he wouldn't see it, only her jawline tighten. Her fingertips gently caress the picture of her family crown atop Count Des'Monde's head, suddenly her brittle nails and fingertips easily puncture the canvas and the back of the framing. She clasps the face of her father and rips it from the perfect picture to much surprise of Zachael, he gasps and retreats back into he kitchen. She tries to take a deep breath and hold it there to hold back what she's been dealing with while away, but again... failure. Her hand covering her mouth as the other drops the handsome face that used to be her father and tears were quick to fall. Her free hand wraps around her shrinking waist, feeling sick to her stomach once more and appetite-less.


Daermon:: The mixture of it all pulls his heart, and pulls his feet. As she shrinks in on herself, he's there. Cool, but his large presence wrapping around her, all comforting smells and things she'd known and might have missed, from the smell of the leather he wore, to the way it creaked, though only seemingly when he wanted it to. "Shhhh...my Brennia." he says softly, the anger gone in the face of whatever this was. He didn't try to pry it from her, demand answers. He just, holds her, whispering soft nothings, calming words of reassurance and love. She'd tell him, in time, or she'd not. For now though, even his cold, dead heart couldn't bare to see her cry.


Brennia did miss all of it and her wings wrap around them as she lets herself cry again while burying her face into his shoulder, while her hands rests on his chest. She was shaking like a leaf in her sobbing and upon close inspection he would see that even her wings have lost their luster and hypnotic properties. Her voice was soft and weak, "I just... Don't understand how someone could do this to their... Children." Her fists tighten so hard in on themselves she breaks her own skin with those brittle nails from the anger and attempt of reigning her emotions in. She was a quiet crier and her voice so fragile as she was trying to explain, "Count Smyth was the real monster... And Edlin stole my opportunity to even be mad at him... I'm just... So... Angry."


Daermon held her close and tight, wrapped in her wings and her hands upon him. "Let's slow down Bren. Take a breath." he says gently, cool hand resting on her cheek to force her eyes to his. "Let me get you some food, something light, you need to eat. Something to drink as well and you can explain. I will be as near, or far as you want for it. Let me fuss over you though." he says, offering her that roguish smile that often pulled her in. "Then we can talk, just me and you. I can hold you, or merely listen. Whatever you need." he says, trying to be that comforting presence she so clearly needs. Now was not the time for jokes, but he hoped to reach past the anger and sadness to touch a hint of the Bren he'd seen when they were alone. "You've lost so much weight, you've nearly lost all the curves I like." it was a playful smile on his face as he moved his hand to hers, opening the one she'd broken the skin on. He licked the blood away, sealing the wounds with his own, shivering as even the little bit started to warm him.


Brennia glanced in the direction of the kitchen, or near the book harboring Smyth secrets, when he mentions food. The flow of her tears subsided for now and she was meek in her response, a slight nod to everything he's suggesting. When he jests about her curves she glances down on herself, bust still in the way, but she felt it... The void of the warmth on her hips thighs and arms, but she did offer a shy smirk and shrug as it is something she misses, too. Shaky hands wipe her face and her wings tuck close around her, almost hiding her hollow parts on her body while she made her way to her piano. Finding her place in the curve of the body of the instrument and caressing it because she missed her piano as well, but she feels too weak to try and play at the moment. If Daermon took this time to acquire the needed rations from the kitchen he would surely stumble across the massive leather bound Smyth book, the thing causing her so much pain and the thing which was possibly trapping her ink for now.


Daermon leaves her gently, hesitant to want to stop touching her, thinking she might vanish again. He watches her, careful to avoid the book on the floor. The time would come that he'd ask about it, but not now. He fetched her some light meat, fruit and cheeses, things not likely to upset her stomach, but have the nutrients she so desperately needed. Water for the drink, mostly because he didn't think liquor would mix well with her. He gently sat the plate on his lap, sitting beside her at the bench. Using a fork, he picked up a piece of fruit, offering it to her, seemingly intent on feeding her himself to see that she ate. "Now please, start at the beginning."


Brennia had made her way to the bench by he time he came back and when he sat with her she would gently lean on him and accept any food he offered. "I met a man I assume is a vampire by the name of Joshua.... He is an exotic book dealer and when he saw me he recognized my ink pattern to which matches a book he's had in his possession." She fiddles idly with a cracker, "Once I introduced myself it clicked that he's had the missing volume of the Smyth family auto-biography." She places a slice of meat on the cracker and a slice of cheese atop that and eats it.... after swallowing she continues, "I hadn't seen him since, but he left the book at my doors. I wanted to read it immediately, but I wanted to read it alone... So, I took some items with me to the library here in Schezerade." She gulped down some water before continuing. "I was happy to find that it was writing by my fa-... Count Des'Monde Smyth himself and Inky made it worse by connecting my mind to the pages... So, I witnessed some of the things he wrote about in the narration of his voice." A silent tear slipped out as she popped a grape in her mouth... "Cruel, really..." she sighed softly, "I witnessed things like him obtaining a dragons egg.... Ripping the wings off an Elder Sibling Fairy... Harvesting ancient tree sap... and killing a colossal squid for its ink... to make." Her voice was barely a whisper, "The ink for my tattoos... he knew what it would do, the tattoo articiem worked for him under threats to his family." She rested her head on his shoulder, "His own daughter, he knew would become this monster.... I somehow closed the book before it reached the time of choosing Edlin for my husband... I just can't take anymore realizations right now."


Daermon listened, feeding her a bit himself, but mostly just being there for her, as she leaned on him, rested her weary form against him. "Oh Brennia...my birdy. You could have...shared this with me. I would have gladly accepted a share of the pain." he says, his hands gently holding her. "So you learned your father is the source of all your troubles..." he says, something he'd long suspected, but kept to himself. Things fit that only the count could have done. "Is there anything I can now, other than be here? You've been gone a long time, but it hasn't changed how I feel towards you, how I see you." he says, offering her everything he had, if she'd but take it.


Brennia shakes her head, "I was scared when I came out of the trance and there was no Inky, unknown time had passed. I thought it went off on its own, so I laid low... Because of last time... And I've been so angry... So very angry." She shook her head again, "I didn't want you to see me like that. It got so bad that I stalked Edlin. He has no memory since his death of what he had done... I waited and came so close to killing him as he slept, but I couldn't." She was pretty sure she wasn't making sense, "I think it's trapped in the pages, but I miss it. And I shouldn't miss it." She felt like a mental patient while her arms hug around her lacking waist. Her voice still a whisper, "Just stay with me, please. I need you to just be here." Her blue eyes search his expression while tears rim her eyelids once more In hopes she didn't look and sound as pathetic as she felt.


Brennia shakes her head, "I was scared when I came out of the trance and there was no Inky, unknown time had passed. I thought it went off on its own, so I laid low... Because of last time... And I've been so angry... So very angry." She shook her head again, "I didn't want you to see me like that. It got so bad that I stalked Edlin. He has no memory since his death of what he had done... I waited and came so close to killing him as he slept, but I couldn't." She was pretty sure she wasn't making sense, "I think it's trapped in the pages, but I miss it. And I shouldn't miss it." She felt like a mental patient while her arms hug around her lacking waist. Her voice still a whisper, "Just stay with me, please. I need you to just be here." Her blue eyes search his expression while tears rim her eyelids once more In hopes she didn't look and sound as pathetic as she felt.


Daermon held her hand between his own. She was so different than the last time they'd been together. He'd always told her she could be more vulnerable around him, but this was far more than he'd ever hoped to see. It hurt him to see her like this, but he gently wiped her tears, leaning close to her. "Of course I will. As long as you need me to. I'll be right here." his eyes moved to the book. "Trapped in the pages you say? Or waiting...but regardless. I can understand why you left, why you stayed away...Just know that I'm here if you ever need me. Nothing you could tell me, or show me would move me from your side." he says gently, cupping her face with a cool hand.


Brennia followed his gaze to the book and she sighed softly, "The Countess wasn't even my mother... He had her memory wiped after my brother and I were born from her peasant sister because she wouldn't go along with this sick plan." Her tone was becoming a bit colder, "No wonder she was batty." She touched her own temple to further her point. Her gaze finds itself on her hands resting on her lap as she's trying to come back down to reality, "It's all been a lie..." Then something a bit darker came from her plump lips, "I wish I could kill him myself..." It rang true in her heart without he influence of Inky and she didn't show any regret to the spoken threat. "It's not fair he got there before me..." She realizes, though, that he would have killed her too if she stayed on island Vere that day


Daermon knew how cathartic it was to let stuff pent up out. How much it could make things better to kill one who had wronged you, only Brennia didn't have hardly any of those left. "Is there...anything I can do?" he asks, offering everything he was to her to help in whatever way he could. He cared for her, perhaps even more than that, though they'd hardly said it.


Brennia's dark wings slumped with the weight of her sadness as she was rained and trained strong, but one could only take so much. She stands while taking one of the hands of his which clasped around hers. She continued to muse things she's been thinking while leading him through the onyx stone corridor, connecting doorways opening like camera lenses before them. "All the times I've pissed and moaned over his death were useless." Her voice so cold, dark and intense," she reaches their room and he would feel the relief of being home... their home. "He was right to keep the knowledge of bard powers from me... He was right to fear me. For so long I've feared me.... Too long." She would motion for him to sit on one of the decadent sofas in their large room. Once he did she would straddle herself atop him and lay her head on his shoulder while running her hands through that short hair (which possibly grew in her time away). She missed this and for now she locks to door on her anger, on the sadness, on the seething hatred. In her minds eye she holds the ribbon of love tightly to which is tied to her vampire, tied to him. For now it's unknown how broken she's become, but this was safe, this is was kept her grounded at the moment.


Daermon rose, following at her pulled hand. It had been a long time since he'd been to their room. After the first week she'd been gone, he'd left and only popped by to check on Zachael and see if she'd returned. It felt too...empty without her. His hair hadn't grown, or more likely it had and he'd trimmed it, keeping it short because she liked it, and because he thought it looked nicer anyway. Long hair was the past. As he sat, and she straddled him, leaning against him, he slid his arms around her, right above her ass, resting on the small of her back. "You are, or could be, a dangerous creature Brennia. Some will likely fear you if they don't already. But I won't. You are mine, in every way, shape and form of the word, and I don't fear you, or your potential. I've missed you." he confides, leaning his face into her hair, breathing deeply of her scent.


Brennia sighed softly in their moment of bliss, his words making her stomach feel full of butterflies and possibly because she's kept such poor care of herself, or the lack of her tattoo, but something odd happened for the first time. Her own scent would be shared as it's something she can't control, it seems for him and for the moment the scent which is his favorite wouldn't be there, it would just be her own, a warm mixture of gardenia, vanilla and a woodsy hint; like an exotic rum. Her massive wings shift over them as if she were wearing the most expensive cloak ever made even in their lackluster state. Seems like it was forever before she felt her heart respond and her soft words to follow, "I've missed you. My only. My love." And for the briefest of moments he might be able to peer into her time spent away, all alone, confused and soul fractured.


Daermon couldn't keep the pain from his thoughts, a single tear sliding down his face to drop into her hair. "Oh Bren...I wish you had let me share that pain, helped to carry it. But I will now my love." he returns. And he found her scent, her actual, natural scent, better than anything he ever smelled because of her nature. They hold each other in the most tender, gentle of embraces, her large wings seemingly protecting them both. He moves his head, placing soft lips, cool, but soft and loving on her cheek, then her throat, pressing light kisses to anything he could reach without disturbing her.


Our Castle

Summary: More sappy love stuff between Daermon and Brennia as their healing continues.

Song Credit: "The Last Song I'm Wasting On You" - Evanescence

Brennia's Miniature Castle
After finding your way through the Topiary Garden it would only be fitting to come upon a building which looks like a section taken right out of any castle in the same style as all of Schezerade, in all it's decadence; marble forming the entirety of the large home accented with gold and platinum in which you'll have to cross over a glass bridge in order to reach it. The front door is welcoming for all shapes and sizes that are the citizens of Hollow and spans a great distance in it's solid French Door of a design. Opening it up one might be perplexed at the ability for the home to hold such music coming from the main room there, provided the owner of the home is present. Once immersed, the eyes might be stolen by the gaping cathedral ceilings above, spotted by gold and platinum in which encircle mini glowing stones to mimic the night sky, but beauty is not what the ceiling is for; it carries one's voice in the ear most pleasing fashion. The walls of the room have shelves carved into the marble upon nearly every wall of this vast oval-shaped room, but the walls are shelves, carved into small squares. Each square hold scrolls to nearly any song someone might wish to hear and it should be clear now that a bard lives here; explains the marvelous white-wood, gold-accented, concert grand piano in the middle of this large room. 
Nearing further into the tiny castle one's nostrils might pick up on the scent of mouth watering food being cooked wafting from the kitchen which is north of the main room and it also holds a small, but elegant dining area. In the corner of this kitchen there is a winding staircase which travels below and is illuminated as if gold is to be kept down there. If you wish to stay and listen to the bard or wait for her to emerge there are luxurious sofas strewn about with the softest throw blankets and plushy cushions, but be careful; an unsettling feeling may overcome you as your eyes spot a locked door, which houses a staircase to take you up, with an outreaching design in onyx stone overlay which seemingly inking over into the pristine luxury you’ve found yourself in. It's as if the area beyond holds a darkness that's attempting to leak out into this little slice of heaven… Better just leave that door alone.


"Sparkling grey,
They're my own veins.
Any more than a whisper,
Any sudden movement of my heart.
And I know, I know I'll have to watch them pass away
Just get through this day"

Brennia is starting to feel the pieces of her heart fit back together again since her return. Healing coming at a fast pace thanks to Her Only, her Daermon. Their days full of sharing everything; body, spirit, mind, and strength in training and it makes it impossible to bore of him. She was having pleasant and subtle dreams before her gentle wake surrounded in Daermon's arms, causing her to take a slow and deep inhale of his scent before the softest lifting of herself from him. She made it careful not to wake him and even places one of their plushy throw blankets over the vampire to mimic her warmth and soft wings. There has been something turning in the back of her mind amongst her joy, it's the last day she saw her family alive and this was causing a song to form in her mind and until their nap she wasn't able to fully flesh it out. She kept silent in he movements to find blank sheet music parchment and an inked quill. Lyrics coming first, pouring into the pages and she doesn't bother drawing out the notes as this song lives within and needs to come out for the closure. She places herself at the pianist bench, posture a picture of perfection as she adjusts her leather leggings and wrapped silk blouse. The notes from the piano keys float out at the same time as her voice, both soft and gentle as to not wake her man.... Unknown to her this song which rings so true to her heart at the moment may be causing a strong natural magic she doesn't mean to send out into Daermon's sleeping mind. As the song starts he might start to see the picture being painted out by her lyrical brush.

"Give up your way, you could be anything,
Give up my way, and lose myself, not today
That's too much guilt to pay"

Daermon slept on. She didn't know it, but his own heart, broken recently by loss and more loss, was healing again, finding new strength in the avian woman who'd taken so much of him of late. Their time was exactly what he needed to move on from his last few love life debacles and he loved her all the more for it. He never slept as well as when he slept with her. As she goes, he stirs, but sleeps on, the blanket reminding him of her, it even held her scent. As the piano rings out, whether it the song, the music or their bond, he began to see that which she'd held in, a dream or nightmare was unknown yet.

"Sickened in the sun
You dare tell me you love me
But you held me down and screamed you wanted me to die
Honey you know, you know I'd never hurt you that way
You're just so pretty in your pain"

Brennia felt her eyes close when the memory comes flooding back... Back home on the hidden Island of Vere known only to Avians and their vampire slaves during another time where Brennia looked a bit younger as she was 26 in this memory. Brennia's deep blues taking sight of herself in the full length mirror as she appeared to be poured into this stunning white dress, elegant, classic, and simple - stark white against her dark skin and backless to accent her dressed up wings. The white diamonds and gold glisten brilliantly in her dark wings and all of her hair to match was curled and half way pinned back. "I can barely breathe in his damned thing." The woman she called mother steps i to view who was just as stunning and fair skinned... 'How is it I look so much like you, but in not of you....' She thought to herself while there was a different muffled conversation going on. She continues, 'You never loved me like you should, did you? In fact you were borderline abusive sometimes... Is that why you drove yourself mad with riddles old woman? I do forgive you and wish you peace...' their tender moment interrupted by an obnoxiously happy man who stands taller than Brennia but nearly mirrors her features and slightly younger... her brother Des'Monde The Second. Again, muffled conversation probably of him speaking of 'how stunning you are' and a tease of 'where are you hiding the fairy godmother?' Brennia's thoughts overcast their exchange 'my brother. How my heart breaks for you as I believe you are an innocent in all of this. I'll wonder if you ever knew, but forgive you any way and wish you peace. Merry part until we merry meet again.' This part comes to a climax when she sees her father, remembering how he used to belittle her, control her, and train her to no end for his own gain apparently. Her father holding back a smile while walking her down an isle of a church. This was apparently her wedding. 'And you... You corrupt piece of insect feces. You will probably suffer in death, but I can't keep this poison inside my soul anymore... You're forgiven for I thank you in exchange of my strength. Goodbye father.' All the while in her memory she had the entire attention of the chapel while exposing Edlin for what he's done and when she said her goodbye, she started to fly until she couldn't bear it any longer...

"Give up my way, and I could be anything
I'll make my own way
Without your senseless hate... hate... hate... hate.
So run, run, run
And hate me, if it feels good.
I can't hear your screams anymore"

Daermon watched it all unfurl in his mind. He heard her thoughts, but the conversations as well, an invisible spectator. Yes, they did look alike, even though it was not really her mother. She looked amazing in the dress, stunning and beautiful. Her brother was handsome, Daermon able to appreciate that in other men. Her father makes him wish he could reach out and kill him, snap his neck, spare her any more pain, though he was aware what he saw must be a memory and nothing else. He followed, her silent shadow as he watched the wedding fall away and her flight. Edlin...he wanted to kill him too, but he'd made his decision regarding that as well, leaving past Edlin and present to Brennia. In the dream, he is able to fly after her, black wings sprouted from his back, though not the leathery kind vampires sometimes had, the feathered kind, like the avian.

"You lied to me
But I'm older now
And I'm not buying baby"

Brennia pulled herself from the memory as the song came to a close  and she let out a shaky sigh while her hands wipe away at her damn cheeks. She would sit for a long moment before making herself leave the piano and lyrics to find herself by Daermon. The Avian just stands there a moment looking down at him with a soft smile before gently removing the blanket to replace it with herself once more, not to nap again, but just be close.

"Demanding my response
Don't bother breaking the door down
I found my way out
And you'll never hurt me again."

Daermon :: Perhaps surprising the woman, his arms would slip around her easily, pulling her close. "My poor, lovely Brennia." he says softly, nuzzling against her. He spoke softly, of seeing her memory, of how he wished he could have helped then and that he was hers in whatever way she needed now.


Brennia was surprised, but for a different reason as her eyes went a little wide with embarrassment. "You mean... You -saw- that?" Let her lips turn in a soft pout. "I didn't mean to intrude your mind or dreams." She remembers how ridiculous she felt in that dress, "Ugh, and that hideous gown..... I'm so embarrassed." Her face buried itself in his chest as if she could hide from him.


Daermon gave a soft, deep laugh, his voice a pleasant rumble as he kissed her hair, burying his face in her scent. "Hush love. These things happen even without the bond. And what are you talking about? Aside from not being able to breath, you looked amazing, beautiful and breathtaking. Not that you don't always look that way, but that dress was very well made for you." he says, kissing her head again.


Brennia had lifted her head to rest her chin on one of his pectorals with that smile spreading across her supple lips and poking dimples into her cheeks. His praise causes a blush on her cheeks and that flutter they share even though she has heard plenty compliments to her, it was his attention that she craved. Instead of kissing the top of her head the second time she returned with a sultry smooch. "Yeah, you're right. I was having my breath taken away." She winks playfully at him, "I think that dress is charred and buried in the muddy sands somewhere in Cenril if you want to see me in it again." She giggles softly, that near hiccup of a sound only emitted around those closest to her.


Daermon kissed her hard, a sinful thing that could make the most provocative of maidens blush. "I think I see you in plenty my dear. Or my favorite...nothing." he teases, hands moving down her form. "I've missed this...you...so much." he says, letting a bit of true emotion show thru as he gently stroked her face.


Brennia hummed softly in their kiss and a bit of an excited squirm to follow, she leans into his cool caress and he could possibly feel how warm her cheeks still were from all the blushing. "And I have missed you... There has been something I've been meaning to ask, but we've been so busy with my issues that I hadn't the chance." She offers a playful pout again before one of her hands strokes through his short hair, "How's Daermon... Really?" She's felt how he's been dealing with something as well, but as he's said that he wanted to share in her pain, the same goes for her.


Daermon :: The woman saw thru him better than anyone else, he'd give her that. A soft sigh formed on his lips. "I am much better now. Much and truly. When you were gone...I worried you were gone for good. As with the others I once considered mine. I have not spoken of them often, save perhaps Khitti. But with her betrayal, breaking of my heart...then you and the others vanish...I felt alone. Lost. I am not a man who does well alone. I have lost many, of course over the years, but never so many all at once. I had no support, none but a few friends, none I could take to bed and my truest confidences, the precious few who see the real me. But you are back...and it doesn't matter anymore." he says, hands holding her close. It was sappier than he normally spoke, but no less true for it.


Brennia planted a palm on the couch arm behind his head and softly positioned herself to straddle over his hips so she can plant a passionate kiss on his lips full of want and lust only to follow it with a much softer kind and gentle one. "You won't be alone anymore My Daermon." Her other hand caresses over where his heart would be and she kisses his cheek like a feather. Another soft kiss near his ear and trailing further down his jawline. Her tongue gently lands on the soft part of his neck trailing downward until another smooch was planted on his collarbone all the while her hair and wings practically enveloping him in her scent.


Daermon slipped his own arms around her, her weight a comforting feel on his lap as they kissed, passionately and gently, her words bring a smile to his scarred, handsome face. "Good." he says simply, kissing her again before she began to move down his form with her lips, her scent his favorite as her wings and hair swirled him in it. He thought that perhaps he could find some measure of peace with this woman. Not to the violence in his life, but the turmoil in his heart. 


The Favored Wing
Oh, you have a key? Congratulations! You will find that although this hall way is the opposite of the warmth you just left, it isn't lacking in the same opulence. While making your way through the candle lit corridor you see numerous doors with different insignia on each of them; a dragon, a snake, a skull, a chef's hat and one left blank. Rest assured that each of the rooms are finely tailored to each of her pets' needs along with their own wash rooms. Finally reaching the large room at the end, it is conjoined by it's own luxurious powder room and the scheme is dark from the onyx stone, accented with gold. The entire atmosphere offers a warm seduction to the senses, but are you friendly enough to await the Avain in her large downy bed colored in the deepest red blankets and view blocking canopy? If not, there are sofas by the wet bar which holds an odd number of bloods from different races, Avian wine, black-fire wine, and specially crafted whisky. Through the circular stained glass door, which depicts a rather gruesome scene,  you might find yourself in a certain island paradise on this vast balcony; warm bottomless sand, a few palm trees and a second wet bar which holds expertly crafted scotch, strawberry wine, Avian champagne and orange juice. If you lounge on one of the hammocks out there, relax and have a drink, you will find it does really feel like an island with the sun so bright and the seemingly endless view of blue.



Daermon had woken early, leaving Brennia with a kiss on her forehead, then moving down to the garden, working his way thru sword forms, stripped to the waist. Unbeknownst to him, he was being spied on. Barnabus (as Daermon still thought of him as a he) was watching from a perch atop a topiary. With a flutter of black wings, the being from the shadow plane landed, transforming first into the silhouette of a woman, then another step and into a female dark elf. Pointy ears, long white hair and proportioned as only a man could design, buxom, busty, and slim waist. Likely something dredged up from the mind of the vampire. Her hands slip around him from behind, making him think Brennia had come down, until he realized there was no smell. 


Brennia usually was the first to wake up, but her vampire recently made her work hard last night so she slept in with a soft snore. She sighed happily from the kiss on her forehead before shifting slightly in heir plushy bed and falling back asleep for a moment.... Dreaming of flying in that twilight sleep until the wings go poof and she starts to fall, fall, fall down, this caused her stomach to flip before her body jolted waking herself. She chuckled softly before rising out of the bed to saunter her half naked self out to the balcony where it overlooks the gardens. She spots her man and that smile beams in admiring him, she sees the figure appear and morph while watching with full curiosity.


Daermon would have expected Brennia to be curious of the woman who was naked in her garden, with her man. But she'd always been ok with him having lovers, so she might think nothing of it. He stiffened against the figure when he realized it wasn't Brennia, the smell wrong, absent. He turned, seeing the dark elf and threw himself forward, sword swinging around. The woman pouted cutely, placing her hands on her amble hips. "Really Daer, is that any way to greet a friend?" He'd been about to say something of not knowing her, when it clicked. He straightened from his sword stance and shook his head, sticking his sword into the ground point first. "Damn it Barn, I told you this whole thing creeps me out." The woman pouted harder. "Barn...Barnabus. I don't find that name very suiting anymore. Perhaps a new name?" she says, steam rolling the vampires objections.


Brennia got a little worried and she stepped up onto the railing of her balcony ready to swoop down and protect someone until she realized they were having a chat... not nearly as entertaining. Feet balancing on the railing for a moment before she swoops on down, still half naked. Eyeing the stranger in a perverse nature and a devious smirk while her hands mimic the whole hands-on-hips deal. "Hello there." She wasn't sure on who this was as she stood off to the side and between them. She wouldn't make a move until introduction was granted and there wasn't any inkling of possessive intentions over her Daermon. She trusts that their connection is the only one they share while being open at the same time.


Daermon took an instinctual half step towards Brennia as fem Barn spoke. "Hello yourself Bre. You're looking lovely and half dressed." she said cheerfully. Daermon rolled his eyes, looking to Brennia. "I think you know Barnabus, my crow and shadow being." he says. Fem Barn pouts to him again. "I told you Daer bear, I need a new name!" she says. Daermon however looks like he wants to be sick at the name she'd called him. Brennia had stepped into an interesting situation after all. And perhaps as entertaining. 


Brennia faked a bashful expression to the compliment, "Thank you, thank you." She noticed Daermon nearly cowering beside her with that sickened expression on his face as she responded, "Actually.... No... You've told me about Barnabus, but other than that-" Her sentence was cut short at the pet name said and she felt her smile widen in sarcasm while one of her hands reaches out to caress his arm, "Dear bear, huh?" The amusement would be evident on her face, she was getting quite a kick out of this.


Daermon :: "Please don't." he asks Brennia, looking a bit queasier at the name. It was sickeningly sweet. "Oh you're no fun." fem Barn said, stamping her foot. Which made all kinds of things jiggle suggestively. "What about you Bren? Will you help me with a new name?" she asks with a smile that was equal parts seduction and amusement. Daermon cut in, speaking to Brennia again. "I did tell you that Barnabus had discovered sexuality and looking to explore it a bit." "Yes, yes" the dark elf said. "I waited far too long I think! I mean, you and Daer and his other women all make it look so fun! I thought he'd naturally want to help me, so I figured a woman would be appropriate. Instead he's just being a big prude." she says, pouting cutely again. No one had ever called Daermon a prude before. 


Brennia didn't plan on calling him that because she likes his name with 'my' before his full name. She could barely hold back the giggling when she called Daermon no fun. And she recalled the conversation, "I mean I never seen... It." For lack of a better term. When fem Barn makes a point to bring up other women in front of her, possibly in attempts to make Brennia Jealous... Which Brennia only finds darling, such things do not bother the woman as her deep blues seek out Barnabus once more turning her sultry smile on it. She saunters closer to the dark elf, "It is fun, but this business about a name... Barnabus is such a strong and sexy name... I imagine masculine." Her voice was thick and sultry like honey, maybe she could convince it to morph into a male form. "Maybe someone other than Daermon could help you?" She was inches from the dark elf now reaching a confident steady hand to tuck some of the dark elf's hair behind an ear.


Daermon merely watched and damn them both for being so sexy. "It -is- masculine. That's the problem. I've taken the form of a man for the whole time I've been with Daermon. I want to try something new. Exciting." she says, smiling as Brennia slips the hair behind her pointed ear. "I want to try both more fully before I commit to one. But Barnabus is hardly a suitable name for this form." she says, spinning a slow circle, which definitely drew Daermon's eye. "And if you're offering to help miss Bren, I might take you up in both my forms...just to see." she says with that same sultry grin, almost mimicking Brennia, who admittedly, would make a fine teacher in that art. 


Brennia indeed took in the same amusement when the fem turned before her. And felt flattered when it seemed she started to mimic her essence while she allowed a moment of silence between the three of them. She swung out a wide hip and crossed an arm under her perky bosom while one finger pushed in her plump lips during thought.... "Would you show me the male from of," her hand moved from her mouth gesturing over the fem form. "This... Please... For me?" She offered a damningly convincing pout.


Daermon :: "Since you asked so very...nicely." she says, then the form ripples, turning to shadow, then into the male version of a dark elf. The hair was still white, though short and anyone who looked close, would see that the body mimicked Daermon's, though without his scars. Barn smiled, spreading his hands at Daermon's look. "What? Yours is the only body I know boss." he says with a damn perfect facsimile to Daermon's smile. It was like looking at a dark elf version of Daermon, all smoky skin and white hair. 


Brennia glanced over her shoulder to Daermon with a wink before her hands come barely close to a caress, hovering over the skin as to only offer the tease of her warmth. "As a female you are quite attractive, but this... Is matching of Barnabus." She said the name soft and slow seducing any and all the senses this shadow may posses before tucking her bottom lip between perfect white teeth and a suggestive smirk. "I can help you if you like... But when it comes to the art of seduction and," she brought her lips close to he ear of the being as she whispered in nearly a moan, "Sex," she pulled back again, "No means no." She shrugged and it would be hard to imagine anyone has ever told Brennia no.


Daermon :: Barnabus reacted as most men would to such a thing, turning eyes from Brennia to Daermon. "Curious...though I begin to see some of why Daer is so...taken with you." he tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps, if you allow, I might seek your help in this form. As for the other though...I can think of no one else I'd rather help me." it was strange, seeing a copy of his face look back at him like that. It made Daermon a tad uneasy. "I've been with him all these years...I know what he was to offer a woman..." he says, turning his gaze back to Brennia. "Thank you though. I'll not intrude on your time any longer. Shiva will be missing me after all. I'll bring her by later." he says, bowing, then the form collapsed into the shadows and emerged the crow, taking flight with a few caws. Daermon watched, scratching his stubble. "That was weird." 


Brennia nodded once in respect to the familiar watching it's magnificent shift into a crow and fly away. Turning to face Daermon with the tilt of her head, "You seemed... Well, I felt how you looked when I interacted with the fem Barnabus." She saunters closer in order to shrink the distance between them, "I don't want to condone the pressure your companion is putting you through... But they do have a point, you have a talent there... In that area." She gently caresses his jawline with a fingertip, "Maybe you might be more comfortable if the three of us did what Barnabus wants... I'd be like a buffer." Her brow would quirk with the suggestion while she connects her gaze into his own.


Daermon :: The softest of laughs slip past his lips as he presses his face into her fingertips. "It's not so much that I don't want to...it's...it's that we've been together so long. It can't exist here without a host. Without a connection to our world. Stranded. When I found it, it was bonded to a wolf. I took it as a child and have had it ever since. I've never been fully alone while I had it, but it took years to develop things we take for granted. Being able to speak, being able to change shape. It's growing, slowly, but still, growing. I suppose my fear...is that if I, or we were to share that...what if it somehow changed our relationship? What if it didn't want to be my companion any longer? A foolish thought perhaps, but one I have. I will think on it...but I am not likely to turn her down. You are of course welcome to be a part of that." he says, his hand slipping down her half nude form. "I do agree though. It...she needs a new name for that form. I refuse to call a woman Barnabus." he teases lightly. 


Brennia giggles softly after his small rant, "I was going to suggest you possibly have a talk about your worries and maybe she would understand. Then I thought, better yet, get it in writing that you two would keep relations and work separate." She winks before she then asks another question, "You don't think there is anyway I can convince or seduce him into staying a man?" She looked slightly perplexed when another question arises, "And I know, we have an open relationship, but would you really feel comfortable your companion doing..." She smirks trailing her fingertip down his neck in a continued caress and trailing downward as she was getting more suggestive, "The things we do."


Daermon tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I'm not sure. I like to think I'm a progressive and open minded guy. So perhaps I shouldn't try to block him, her, it into what I think. Maybe I should be flattered that it wants to spend time with me. Lord knows it's watched behind my eyes enough times...We'll see how it plays out. And my love, I'm sure you could convince a fish to be a man, but I will not ask you to do either." he teases, his body moving to press against hers. "Besides, you say that like it's so torrid, the things we do." he teases gently, pressing a hand to her rear. 


A Year Passes

Off on a vacation I asked
You said no
Now I am alone
Am I still even me?
Are you still you?
After all this time
Could we forget us?


Dying By Inches

Summary: Brennia sees a face from the past.

Smyth College of Bardic Arts
Interpretation 101

Upon the second story balcony within the main hall many classes are taking place and Brennia’s is no exception. Given the circumstances of Schezerade residents suffering a severe solar allergy all of the large windows have been covered over with blackened parchment which gives off a sort of ‘doom and gloom look’, but it's necessary for term to continue. Brennia, having thrown herself completely into the duties of a Dean, added onto the once small seeming castle to something accommodating to house anywhere from 50-100 students. Her own classroom is more of a lecture all with levels to each row of seats and her own large desk stationed at the bottom. Lamp lights and firefly sconces surprisingly give enough light that even though the halls are darkened there is almost a romance to the illumination.


Brennia starts her class off simply enough with her sultry alto timbre addressing the students, “merry meet everyone.” She clears her throat gently in attempts to clear up the rasp underlying her voice and anyone that knew her would understand that's an indicator of exhaustion with the bard. Pressing on with a warm (forced) smile, “did everyone make it through reading the short play last night?” Gloved hands pick up a crystal glass full of cool water and she sips some of it down while they replied positively. “Very well,” she stands up with a wooden box and the clicking of heels begin to bring her to each desk and procure them with a fist sized crystal ball. Her expression neutralizes and, again, anyone that knew her would notice the twinkle in those Liberty eyes snuffed out and her attire different - almost looking as if she's aged a little too much in the short span of a year (give or take). Wings looking a little lack luster under the bright firefly lights and her long sleeve white blouse tucked into a black form fitting waist high pencil skirt and even thick black tights under that covering her up. Yes that's a little overkill, but that's just not a risk she wants to take - being exposed to the sun that is.


Daermon had not seen Brennia since their unpleasant parting nearly a year ago. The problem was that he had really cared for the avian bard, and the way things had ended had rocked him profoundly. The last few years had been a testament of finding someone, growing close, letting his guard down, and ultimately being hurt. Brennia and his separation had been the blade that cleaved the camel in two, and thus the elder vampire had retreated from the world. Not just from his friends or family, but the world entirely. He’d shadow stepped thru the planes of night gone visiting the other worlds connected therein. It had changed him. As much as Brennia was the same but different, so too was the vampire. He seemed to cast a shadow around him now, too much time perhaps in planes not meant to house physical beings. Perhaps he’d brought more back with him than the creature already bonded. Regardless, when he finally had grown tired of the hunger, the constant hunger and loneliness, he’d returned. He’d checked on the ones he’d loved, finding that a year had passed (or so) here, but so many more had passed in the worlds he’d found. He’d seen wonders and horrors, and his eyes seemed to reflect it in their sallow glow. He looked thinner, harder, so hard and cold, like the ice his eyes were colored like. He was still tall, still short haired and scruffy, long duster tattered and worn, his outfit a simple black leather that seemed so well used it didn’t even creak. He’d come to check on the last woman he’d truly cared for, and what he’d found had shocked, surprised and delighted him. He’d known she liked to teach, but had never thought she’d do it. So it is in her class that in the uppermost row, furthest away from the students, she might catch a glimpse, a shadow of a man, watching, listening, seeming to have come and none to have noticed, save perhaps her.


Brennia moved quietly from desk to desk, save for the heels alerting her presence and some of the students didn't hide very well the admiration of her frame while being distracted by their favorite scents emanating from the Dean.. “Today you will see within our crystalline memory recorders, playback the performance of the script and-” stunning eyes looked up finally at a figure she thought she wouldn't be seeing and it was almost like she could only see that icy gaze. A pit opening up in her stomach as it felt she was falling through the air ready to plummet to the ground at any moment, but that's the thing when exes don't die - you have to one day see their face. Surprisingly cool on the outside she simply looks back in her box to continue to hand out the assignment, “and with the script so fresh in your minds I want you to compare the visual aid to your expectations in detail. Did it exceed them… Or let you down?” She already planned on saying theses things, but she felt they were apropos today and she tries to amend it so it doesn't seem she's trying to emotionally wound the man intruding on her lesson, adding, “or was it exactly what you expected.” On second thought, that may have been worse, but when she reached the back top of the room she slowly set the box down on an empty desk and closed it before she looked back to him without a word. For a moment just standing there and trying to gather herself, then turning away and walking to the exit at the top of the room where they are with a glance back at him as an indicator for him to follow. If he followed she would walk to the opposite side of the walkway and lean on the banister which overlooks the main hall. She declines to talk first and goes to cross her arms under her bust, but thinks better on that and merely rests her palms on the banister as well.


Daermon | Ah, she’d seen him. That hadn’t been his intention. He’d intended to merely glance, chance a look. Even with how it had ended, he still cared, but he couldn’t let her know that, couldn’t show that. Never let your enemies see you bleed, show how much they had hurt you. He followed her as she moved away, indicating that he should follow. He moved unnaturally now, all the little masks he’d used to feign humanity, the little movements that living, breathing mortals did, the ones he’d used to make people comfortable around him, were gone. Too long he’d spent away, alone, in the cold and dark, the cold and dark that he carried with him now. As she stood, gripping the banister, he stood, as far away as he could while still in her presence. He looked…paler, thinner, eyes sunken with dark shadows around them. He finally looked like what he was, a corpse, animated by a curse with his soul shoved in. When he spoke, his voice was harsh, like someone who’d not used it in a long time. “Brennia. You look well. I love what you’ve done with the place.” An interesting choice for someone who’d been so very close a year before, to him though, it had been so much longer. A flicker of doubt crossed his face, a worry. Did their bond still exist after all this time? Would being in such proximity make him feel her mind and thoughts again? Or the more pressing concern…did he secretly wish to?


Brennia spent too long wallowing alone in his study, the secret one, and the room they used to call their own back then. She replaced how hollow she felt with distraction after distraction, first the college, then the guild, then the Rynvale theater project on the side, play tours, open houses, the current political dangers in Schezerade and, yes, someone else, but he is just as busy as she has made herself. In turn she traded one addiction for another… As he remembers she’s a deep feeling being and she only wondered for a moment if their permanent bond was still a clear path for him. Ironically the only thing that would have made her strong enough to block herself from him and his proximity is locked away. “Thank you,” she felt like a dope saying that as his compliment almost seemed sarcastic or pandering. She continues to look calm on the outside even though her heart feels like it’s pounding through a vat of molasses within her chest and an elephant was sitting upon it while a plethora of confusing feelings flood her mind, inadequacy, concern and hurt. If he wasn’t scared enough to continue to look directly at her he would notice how dull her once shiny wings look, how pale she is from the lack of sun and a newer scar across her throat as if she was held at knife point not so long ago. “Have you come for lessons in the Bardic Arts?” It was a dumb question and again she felt like a total dope.


Daermon smiled at the question, an actual, mirthful smile. His laugh was dry sounding, pained, but not malicious. “No. I don’t have the talent for that. As you know. I set aside my instruments of beauty for instruments of death long ago.” he says, moving closer and resting on the railing with her, a few feet between them. Even that distance, she might feel the cold. The cold of the grave of death. “I’m sorry for the chill. I can’t do anything for it. It’s been…a very long time since I fed on anything.” he admits, almost seeming shy about it. The silence stretched for a few moments, as both were lost to their thoughts. “I’m impressed with how much you’ve accomplished.” he tells her, though it seemed to awkward and strained. It hurt that he wasn’t sure how to talk to her. After a moment, looking at her, “You don’t look so well. But then…neither do I.” he says, quiet as death. “How…how long has it been, for you?” he asks in that quiet voice, which demanded an answer.


Brennia looked ahead where he was standing near the door to her classroom as if he was the sun she wasn’t supposed to look directly at. It hurt her to see him in many ways and it was more of an ache of concern mixed with that heartache he put there when he deemed her unworthy. She didn’t mind the cold just as she never did and almost as if she could warm him with only her wing it nearly spread towards him, but she thought better of it and only shifted it to curve more around herself as if that was what she meant to do. “I’ve been spread a little thin… And targeted by-“ it is at this time they are interrupted by a decently cute twenty something human, about 5’5’’ with deep brown eyes and long braided hair. She was holding her crystal ball in her hand and smirking, “professor, this Crystalline Recorder that Mister Wisax,” she put emphasis on the name - low blow, “made for us won't work for me,” she fakes a pout before seeing Daermon and a coy smile replaces it. Yes, it is possible she was watching them until they left the room and yes it’s possible she was eavesdropping just now. “Evanescenz, let me take a look at it,” triumphantly the human smiles and hands the ball over to Brennia before playing with her braid and checking Daermon out, like, it was painfully obvious. She wouldn’t be the only bad seed of the college without -constantly- trying to steal Brennia’s lightning. Brennia became distracted while looking at the ball, but jealousy floods her mind and warms her skin… This is when she realized she was never meant for an open relationship. “Hi, I’m Eva, you are?” Her attempt at Brennia’s sultry alto timbre and seductive essence is a little off, but kudos for trying. If Daermon wishes to further the whole ‘never let your -enemies- see you bleed’ thing, it seems he’s presented with a choice opportunity.


Daermon was perceptive at best and viciously perceptive at worst. When her wing shifts, seeming to want to enfold him, as it so often had before, there was a brief glimmer in his eyes, the glimmer that had existed when they’d been together, but then the wing wrapped around its owner and the glimmer was gone. He did not answer as they were interrupted. And indeed, he moved away a little, still leaning on the railing, but letting the girl speak to Brennia. It was perhaps, though neither party realized it, that the entire splitting of them had been a misunderstanding. Daer had always found her worthy, but perhaps he’d taken her last words the wrong way. The flood of jealousy at the girl breaks the frost over the bond, not opening it, but cracking it, letting him feel that strong emotion. He knew as surely as she did that his words could hurt, cut, slice, yet he didn’t want to hurt her, for he hurt for his lack of her. “Not interested.” he responded to the chit, giving her that simple phrase instead of his name, those cold blue eyes on her, enough perhaps to cause a shiver of fear, as surely no normal man held such glacially cold hues. He moved from the balcony, straightening and breezing past the upstart, for surely she must be to so openly flirt with the dean’s guest? He stopped on the other side of Brennia. “I should not have intruded on your class while you have others that need your time. I would like to continue our conversation though. It would mean a lot to me.” Could she feel the protective way he felt towards her? Could she feel the bond that had grown cold, begin to warm? Her next answer would tell him all he needed to know. “Do you have somewhere private where I can wait for you?” he asks, his voice seeming more…human, as though he was learning to speak again while he spoke to her.


Brennia maybe cracked a hint of a smirk at his words while the student wasn’t looking and when went to hand the crystal ball back to Eva it slipped and fell, shattering upon the floor. Brennia didn’t jump, but the look of exhaustion came back over her visage, “just grab another one from the box. Would you tell the others to just leave their assignments on my desk if I have not returned by the end of the lesson time?” Eva was happy enough to do this and tiptoed around the shards, “Mister Wisax is going to be maaad,” Eva singsongs to Brennia with a smirk and all Brennia did was smile warmly to her, “I’ll send him your way to pay for it then.” Eva rolled her eyes and slipped into the room just as Brennia knelt down on the floor to gather the shards into one pile out of the way, but the sharp sucking of hair between clenched teeth proved she biffed and cut herself, “merde!” She hissed out before standing up once more and addressing Daermon while holding her palm closed, “the Professors offices, this way.” She starts for the large double window doors at the peak of the oval shaped area. “That’s the good thing about college students, they are old enough to be responsible for their own passions.” She doesn’t know what that’s even supposed to mean, but she just wanted to keep talking - keep changing the subject.


Daermon couldn’t help but smile too, for even Brennia’s smirk was contagious to him. He didn’t know who Mister Wisax was, but being that Bren was the dean, he assumed all would be well. As she dropped the ball, breaking it, he had moved to help clean up the shards, but had to stop as she cut herself. The smell of her blood…any blood, but hers especially, it called to him. Practically every part of him vibrated with the force of having to contain himself and not try to drink, to taste that red elixir. “Yes.” He says simply in response to her, not knowing if that was the right response or not, too busy locked in a battle with himself. He lets her lead the way, lets her get a few feet ahead of him and thru sheer willpower alone manages to not assault her for the glistening red that he craved, that he’d been so very long without. It did not take them long to get to her office. Once inside, he’d speak again, “You didn’t have to leave the class. I could have waited…or not, if you would prefer. You haven’t told me if you want me here or not.” he says, having to keep his eyes away from her while her blood pumped. He handed a handkerchief to her. “Please…try to stem the blood.” he begs, shaking with the effort. “I am a fool for coming here like this. I should have fed first, or not come at all. I-I should go.” he says, panic settling into the bond, sharp like her jealousy had been. She might hear it, feel it. For her, here, it had been roughly a year. For him…he had wandered for many years, lost in the realms and worlds between worlds. He’d not fed in at least a year or two, maybe more, and it was slowly killing him.


Brennia was so caught up in attention seeking Eva that she forgot, somehow, he is a vampire, but that never really mattered to her, no matter how much their races were at odds. She was quiet and in the hurry to take the kerchief a warm caress of her tattooed fingers brush past his hand on accident. Pressing the cloth into her hand, “sorry about this.” And to answer him about not needing to meet with him, “it’s no worry.” They know what they sign up for under the Dean of the college and in their shared panic she accidentally knocked a piece of an already broken jar to the ground. It was the base of a jar, black marble and obviously that of Vakmatharas judging by the mummified larynx near it. She took a moment to hum a Bardic spell of calming - more for her, but if it allowed him a bit of peace that would help. Once the panic subsided within her she just looks at him with those liberty blues and he didn’t need the bond to see the concern on her face, “what happened to you?” She rotated the bloodied cloth and clenched it in her hand, but was taking steps near him in order to pick up the shard of Vakmatharas’ Jar and placed it back on her desk. It sits next to other large marble pieces and looks like some have been glued together.


Daermon | Having once been the vessel to a dark god, Daermon can feel the presence, even lingering, of the vase. He is careful to stay back, to avoid it as he meets her gaze, then turns away, unable to meet it. He had felt her magic wash over him, and for a moment, thought of fighting it off, but let it help calm his fractured mind. “Losing you…broke me.” he says so very quietly, looking at anything but her in the room. His voice was a whisper. “I couldn’t…I didn’t…It was too much. You were all that I had that was real. After Khitti and Daney…after Aira and Meli, all those I had loved, each one…left me. When I lost you…it was too much. I was too weak to face another loss…so I left. I shadow stepped away from this world and didn’t look back. I saw so much out there, in the void. Worlds like ours but different. Horrors and wonders and things that dwell in the place between worlds. Time moves differently there. I gather I’ve been gone about a year or so. But I was gone for much longer. A decade perhaps? Maybe two? Long enough to wither, to be crushed by lack of blood and loneliness. I sought my death out there.” he admits, glancing to her, then away. “I passed out. Lost consciousness. Illyane, the name Barnabus took on, she used the last of our shared energy to bring us back against my wishes. She stayed with me until I woke again, and then told me she wasn’t going to let me kill myself. She won’t allow me to access the magicks of the shadow plane. I’ve looked in on those I cared for, saving you for last. I didn’t want you to see me, but I am…sloppy, out of practice. Or maybe subconsciously I wanted this. I don’t know anymore.” The quietest words yet. “I never stopped loving you.”


Brennia wished her windows of this office weren’t painted over and she could stare out them in this moment. She felt hot and cold on the inside once more while that pit opened back up in her stomach, but at this point she didn’t care if he could sense that through their bond. She turned away from him pretending to be occupied by the jar on her desk and the mystery of it she is still trying to solve because she knows nothing of gods, but from the inability for him to look at her she placed a hand over her stomach as if she could actually feel that guilt swelling up in her. “For you it was a secondhand heartbreak - like leftovers, but for me it was my first,” she wasn’t competing who had it worse or anything in his comparison, but she was just pointing out the fact that she’s just one of the many while he was just one heartbreak. She wanted so badly to sit there and relate with him how they got strength from their inner demons and how their stories will forever be similar, but not without getting close again and right now that cannot happen. His weakened state was her fault though and it’s up to her to fix it without feeling too guilty about that either. So, she closed herself off, drops the bloody kerchief and takes a deep breath before the clicking of her heels walk purposefully close in front of him. “Dearmon, I have love for you, but it isn’t the same as it was before,” that sultry timbre commands his attention and she sets those stunning eyes up at him once more. The bloodied hand raises and gives him a slap on the cheek just before she says, “get yourself together! What were you thinking, how dare you? You can’t just come here and say these things.” This would be felt with half the force she would use in their sparring sessions as a clue that she wasn’t serious in her actions or her words - it’s a taunt.


Daermon’s eyes met hers at the command, the slap rocking him, which said a lot about how weak he was, that half her strength did that to him. “I deserved that.” he says. “Yes, perhaps it was secondhand for me. Perhaps it was different. But it was no less real. We were both in new, vulnerable places. I don’t blame you. I don’t. I made the choices I made and you yours. We both have to live with those.” he says, feeling the heat of the blood on his face from the slap. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn’t have said any of this. I care about you and I should let you go…completely, not like I did a year ago.” His form screamed for him to feed, but the man held the monster back, keeping it at bay. “I should go.” he would say, attempting to step around and past her, the bond locking down hard and fast after it was barely just opening. Anyone could see that his mistakes haunted him, that he still cared for the avian. “Forgive me Birdy, if you can.” he says, stopping at the door, needing to hear her, to see if she could. He shook, broken and shuddering under the weight of the blood on his face, which he didn’t dare touch, for once he tasted, he didn’t know if he could stop. “Forgive me for hurting you. For leaving. For misunderstanding. Forgive me for coming back. For loving you still. Forgive me for hoping even for a moment, that we could somehow make it work even now.” he pleads, a drop of blood like a tear rolling from and eye to splash on his hand. It looked sick and diseased, black… dying by inches.


Brennia followed him to the door, but pushed it closed once more so it pulled from his grip. Okay so tough love wasn’t going to work, “I’m not mad at you for that. I’m mad because-“ she gently pushed his shoulder so he would turn around against the door. “Would you just look at me?” Once he did he would see how she still looked concerned, “I’m mad because you haven’t gone off and found something else. Something better. It would be easier for me to go on not caring, but,” she cannot stand seeing him like this. “You can’t be this way because you are supposed to be the strong one, dammit!” She looked at the blood of her’s on his face and how it was killing him not to want it, “don’t fade away over this. Definitely not over me,” she said in a self depreciative manner - she’s definitely not that important, “you know I already have enough blood on my hands.” Her clean hand takes hold of his collar and the bloody one leaves some more trails on his rough cheek. “Feed because I need your help.”


Daermon did as she asked because he didn’t have it in him to hurt her further. He looked at her, back to the door, but as she pushed that overflowing scent into his face he wrenched his head away again. “Why are you doing this to me?” he asks, a growl, his body shaking now, harder still with the effort. It had been easier when she’d been across the room. “I was never the strong one. I couldn’t even be strong enough to commit to one partner.” he spat. “Of course I haven’t gone off and found another. I didn’t want another. I wanted you!” he was shouting by the time he’d finished, eyes blazing with a cold, hungry, blue light. Suddenly he seemed taller, broader, more his old self. His hands closed over her wrists, pulling her hands from him. His flesh burned with the cold in that gaze, the sick strength of it. “If I die it is out of regret. Because I could have done things differently. You speak of moving on. Did you?” he asks accusingly. “What could you possibly need my help with? I can’t even help myself anymore.” his face was a mask of emotions. Anger, rage, sadness, guilt and even a hint of love. “I want you, drink you dry, hurt you, hold you and kiss you all at once. I’m not strong, I’m shattered!”


Brennia’s expression softened and at such a closeness he could probably see just under the collar of her white blouse how she must have broke open a recent wound. She’s been physically attacked often recently and it was taking a lot out of her not to be undone by his words. Her wrists caught up in his hands and she winced and flinched at his yelling, but did not pull away. “I can’t see you like this. If you really don’t want to hurt me you can’t do this to yourself because I mean it when I say I still have love for you… You don’t just stop caring for someone. Even if they broke you,” her eyes look up at him, “I need friends, I need protection like I always have. I need someone who understands the darkness… Of Vakmatharas.” Her wings behind her fold to sort of hide the blonde feather within her onyx ones meaning she has found someone. Her voice was small and now she didn’t want to look at him as she admitted, “I have.” Blood now slowly soaking her white blouse and trickling down the palm of her hand over his knuckles. “Someone or something is targeting me,” explains the new wounds from weapons and not bites.


Daermon released her, breathing heavily, stepping away from her, though that meant moving away from the door. “I’m happy for you. I hope they make you happy. I hope…” his voice broke, but he looked away and cleared his throat. “Don’t ask me to feed from you. Not if you’re taken. Not if you’ve moved on. Don’t make me taste and know and experience that, but not be able to have you.” he tells her. “And you don’t need the feelings from having me that intimate will cause. We don’t need that pain lingering if there is nothing left for us in that way.” he tells her bluntly, honestly, but not unkindly. “You want someone who understands the darkness of a god? I’ll give you a piece of free advice. Don’t get involved. They’re petty and ask more than what you ever want to give.” All the blood was making his head spin. “Do you want to be healed?” he asks, for they both knew his blood could do that much.


Brennia mumbles, “couldn’t be any worse than when I had to get over you and the bond we had. The endless months of reaching out into a cold nothing,” she stayed facing the door. “I can’t believe this…. Are you jealous?” The guy who didn’t want to commit to only her when she changed her mind about the allure of open relationships, “let’s see, ‘it was fun for a while, but I am tired of having to compete.’ Those were the last words I said to you on our vacation before we argued about our original agreement.” Now it’s ironic that it seems he’s jealous and she turned around to rest her back against her office door. Crossing her arms under her bust, “I saw the way you looked at the jar. What is it? What do you know?” His offer to heal her earns a quirked brow and a scoff, “you’re either going to have to deal with it or go.” And she was leaning against the door…. So.


Daermon | The growl that met her ears was one that a cornered animal might make. Something dangerous and low as he made space between them. “I had to get over you too you know. I did it by leaving. It was what you wanted. You didn’t want to compete. Remember? So I made sure you didn’t, not for me.” he tells her. “Yes, our original agreement was flawed…for both of us it turned out. Of course I’m jealous,” he spits back. “I didn’t understand my own feelings for you and ran from them. I thought it was what you wanted.” he says, anger creeping into his voice. Like her, he changed subjects. “I don’t know what it is. But it reeks of the dark gods. Coreliant’s objects used to feel the same.” he says, turning back to face her. “What do you want from me Bren?” he asks, spreading his hands, helpless. “I told you I was sorry. I told you I still loved you, I laid bare everything and agreed to still try to be your friend, to help. So what do you want from me?” he asks again, looking, searching for honesty. “It’s funny…I missed you so much, for so very long, years and years. I only wanted a glimpse of you today. I’d known in my heart you’d have moved on. And you’re right. That’s the reasonable thing to do.”


Brennia got quiet and soft while looking up at him being so close, “I’m sorry. That must be difficult for you.” For moment she just fixes him with a certain look, intense, but of what emotion no one knows. The room quiet and he could probably only hear the fast beating of her heart, but she goes to speak and then stops herself. “I cannot say out loud any of these things you’ve admitted to me today because it will not be fair to Wisax,” merde, she said a name. She hated herself for the slip up and finally he might feel the instant regret, but she continues. “I just want you to take care of yourself. It's killing me to see you this way and knowing I had a small part in causing it.” It was true and he would be able to tell.


Daermon nodded slowly. “It’s fine. It really is. I didn’t expect you to wait for me. I didn’t want you to. You had no reason to. I hope he makes you happy, that he gives you what you deserve, because you are more important, more special than you ever gave yourself credit for.” he says, just as softly. “I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize what you have. I am not petty or cruel.” his words were soft, yet not unkind. “I can see that you’re in pain. You don’t need this. You have so much going on, I am an unwelcome distraction. Take this as closure.” he says, offering her a smile, a ghost of the charming, handsome smile he’d worn so often around her. He was trying to give her a way out, a way past this, a way to let all of their mess go. She blocked the door, so she’d have to move or he couldn’t leave.


Brennia couldn’t take this anymore and through the ghost of their bond he could feel an immense sadness. Sadness for the misunderstanding and what could have been if they were more careful. She doesn’t say anything more and all she does is pull the door open to disappear into the hallway until she was lost in her castle. She would probably break down tonight, but eventually she’d be okay again.


Daermon watched her go, saved from tasting what would have surely broken him more than the loss the first time. He turned to her desk, careful to avoid the Jar, and pulled off his ring, taking a piece of her parchment and a quill, then scribbling a note. It was short and to the point. ‘ Note Omitted,’ He left both where she would find them, but not right away, and not out where another might find first. He left then, careful to avoid any students or teachers, her blood burning on his cheek.


Desperate Times Forever

Summary: Evanescenz wants to die and wants someone to do it for her.

Student Advisory Office
Within this section of the college, located on the second floor, the large interior windows and windowed doors look out to the walkway above the first floor of the main hall. Some students are waiting in the area and a professor or two slink into the Professor's Lounge door to the left. Counselor Dewfoot-Barrows sits perched behind her desk and warmly welcoming students just before disappearing into the long hallway behind the barrier of her desk.


Evanescenz knocks on Dean Smyth’s office door with a stack of papers in hand to find the door was left slightly ajar. She takes in the sight of a room slightly out of order and a few droplets of blood at her feet which made her think of only one person she’s met recently. That man who looked right through her and came to see Brennia earlier that day - she knew it right then that he must be a vampire. There were rumors she used to house a vampire lover, but she wasn’t certain until she saw HIM and now she’s curious… Too curious. She sets the stack of papers down before doing some light snooping and stumbles across a beautiful ring that looks a bit masculine for Brennia’s taste, but it was the note that moved her. A tear rimming her eyes while reading it and anger blushing her cheeks as we wondered what the hell was so great about Brennia that deserves such attention from men. She crumpled the note and shoved in it her own bag along with the ring before wiping her eyes in order to calm herself and move down to the dorms. For a long moment she sits on her own bed with the door locked to her room while looking at the ring. She strips out of her sun dress and sits in the chair to her desk while holding a letter opener as she slipped the ring on her middle finger - curious if it will even work for her.


Daermon had left the college in a hurry, needing the space from Brennia, from the blood. He’d found the nearest private spot with water and had scrubbed her scent, her blood from him as best he could. He had been a fool for going there hungry. She’d nearly broken him. One more push and he’d have been feeding from her. It was such an intimate thing, and not something he wanted to share because she felt guilty. He’d imbued the ring with some shadow magic, just to call to him, had left the note, and expected to likely not hear from her. He sat, reflecting on his thoughts, unsure if he could actually stomach being just her friend. Being around her would be near impossible. Perhaps once he’d fed it wouldn’t be so bad. She’d looked rough, attacked, likely what she wanted him to help with, but why would she need him? She had a partner, the one she’d mentioned. Surely Brennia’s tastes hadn’t changed so much as to pick someone weak who couldn’t help her? He was about to leave when he felt the pull of the ring. A look of surprise crossed his face, as he’d not thought she’d use it at all, let alone so fast. He followed the pull, staying hidden, back into the college until he found an unremarkable room in the dorm. It was locked, so he knocked. He didn’t like standing in the open like this. And she had the note, knew what the ring did, so he shifted thru the shadows into the room, not worrying about the door at all.


College Dormitory
Traversing your way around and around in the winding staircase until you find yourself in more carved out of marble opulence, but you find the music playing above does not travel down here. The landing of this area is occupied by many desks, sofas and furniture where all the poets and playwrights may practice in peace. Your attention can easily be taken by long corridor to the west and the amazement at all of the doors for each of them are decorated uniquely to the individual occupant. In each room is their own small washroom within a well lit room which holds a plushy bed, seems it's the life to be a student of the bard's college.


Eva’s heart beat faster at the sight of the mystery man before the hand that was adorned with his ring was holding his wrinkled up letter with a smirk. “I found this crinkled up in a hamper with this beautiful ring,” she lies, but as an actress she can be compelling. Her slip that was under her dress shows off her straight and thin frame as she stands and let’s a candle sconce start to burn up the lovely letter he wrote. “And now it’s all burned up just like that burnt up old bitch,” she hopes to play into his heartbreak by calling Brennia names and yeah… Being a one-hundred-thirty-something Brennia is old. After the note falls to ashes on her stone floor it frees up her hand to push her long chestnut hair over to one side so her porcelain neck was exposed and she cautiously steps closer to Daermon, “she’s all about Vi now. Avians belong with avians, while vampires belong with vampires.” She was holding the letter opener behind her back all the while a sharpness in her voice in attempts to rile him up. “You should see the way she looks at him and how nervous she gets. Like she’s never been more amazed,” also trying to anger him and make him jealous by being just as dramatic as he is.


Daermon wasn’t a fool…normally. He was vulnerable now though, more so than perhaps any other recent time. “Then she doesn’t want, or need my help after all, regardless of what she said.” the tone was, quiet, somber as he watched, his eyes bright in the dark room. “I would have my ring back then, as it isn’t needed here after all.” he says. “And if you are planning to stab me to hurt Brennia, I would advise against it.” he says, the former assassin more than able to tell when someone was holding a blade. “Do you hate her that much? What did she do to you to inspire such vehemence?” he asks softly.


Eva chuckles, “finders keepers - ‘not interested’,” her tone darkened in the quote of his prior rudeness. “This?” She pulled out the knife and smirked again, “it ain’t for you.” She plants her free hand on the small curve of her waist trying to look more curvaceous, “I just don’t think she has earned the type of attention she gets from people. She's fake and I know it!” She uses the letter opener to open a shallow cut on her neckline before aiming it on her wrist in a vertical fashion, “either you turn me, or I’ll die. And if you let me die - people will think you did it to get back at Brennia.” She spat the name with disrespect and started to poke the blade in her arm with a wince. This woman is crazy and serious.


Daermon’s eyes widened a hair as he looked at the girl, at the shallow cut on her neck, then as she was going to slice open her arm, in the correct and painful fashion. “Whoa, easy there…Eva was it?” he says, holding his hands open, those bright eyes on her, trying to hold her attention. He didn’t want the girl to kill herself and he certainly wasn’t about to change her. “You’re right. That was rude of me. My name is Daermon, or Daer if you prefer.” The bond, unwittingly, exploded with the panic he felt, the strong emotions of the moment shattering the layer of ice over it like a hammer, and Brennia might see everything going on thru the vampire’s eyes. His weakened form didn’t lend well to control. “Come now, I’m not strong enough to turn anyone right now. And why would you want me to sire you? Look at me child. I’m a wreck. You’re young, beautiful, have your whole life ahead of you.” he says, trying to talk her down, to keep her from slicing oven the vein pulsing in her wrist. He needed help that he knew he wouldn’t be getting. The door was locked. He needed to talk her down somehow.


Eva’s expression softens and a small stream of warm fresh and dark blood tricked down the pale of her arm, “you really think I’m beautiful?” Expertly on queue when her arms drop to her sides large crocodile tears slip down her rosy cheeks before she practically throws herself at him in an embrace. The cut arm resting near his neck since she’s so much shorter and she tilted her head up at him which only opens the wound at her neck more, “you could help me stay this way forever and I could always need you unlike her.” Desperation her her watery deep brown eyes. Damn she was a good actress. Her voice a whisper, “we could both be a wreck.”


Daermon was not prepared for this today. It was far more than he’d bargained for. As she embraced him, he was surprised, for she certainly must be able to feel the cold of his form, yet, she seemed entirely unaffected. He was treading very dangerous waters. “Of course I do.” he says, his hands on her hips, more to hold her back than to embrace. The smell of blood was rich, not as intoxicating as Brennia’s, but still strong, still blood. “Do you really want to die?” he asks, soft, as he was thinking thru his options. Parts of him wanted to feed. None wanted this girl changed though, or bound to him as she would be if he turned her. He felt trapped.


Eva is very vain and could probably give the worst avian a run for their money. “I need someone to want me. I want to be beautiful this way forever.” Her doe eyes well up with tears again, “you’re so cold… You don’t have to be alone, too.” If Daermon were stronger he might see all types of red flags with this dame, but… You gotta eat, amirite? She did well with the theatrics and dramatics in order to get what she wants, “plus… It will make her jealous and even if you say you aren’t interested you secretly want to make her jealous.” A sniffle for added effect, “it’s a win win situation.” More like lose lose.


Daermon | The fun part of being a vampire, was that most people didn’t know how becoming a vampire really worked. As an elder, Daer could make new vampires, but it required more than a bite, it required a full feeding, making the person close to death, then an ingestion of the vampire's blood. Only if the person survives the death, is strong enough, so they turn. Some outright die from the shock of the vampire’s curse. Daermon was not stupid, blind, nor a fool. An easy way out, it just wasn’t the gentlemanly way. “You’re right.” he says, taking the knife from her hand and tossing it away. “Hush now, Eva…” he says softly, arms enfolding her, then pulling her to him as his teeth pierced her flesh, the rush of pleasure already spilling thru her from it.


Eva’s eyes open wide in shock, surprise and pain. A stifled yelp/moan is muffled against his duster while he drains the life out of her, or so she thinks, and her nails dug into the leather of it. If the bond was still opened and Brennia was still able to be dreaming about this, she was surely having a nightmare and wakes with a start. Heart pounding and feeling like she was going to be sick while Eva’s smirking victoriously… Eva closes her eyes as she’s imagining live as a vampire and how much stronger she will be… Is she darkly worthy enough?


Daermon didn’t drink her dry, not even close. But he did take just enough to make her lightheaded and weak. He sealed the small wounds with the barest bit of his blood. He moved her to her bed, laying her down as he pulled his ring from her finger and leaned close, whispering in the ear of the woman. “Thank you for the snack Eva. While I am not thrilled with dear Brennia just now, I’m not much in the mood to sire a new vampire either. So forgive me for eating and running, but I’ll make sure someone brings you something with a bit of iron. You’re running a little light.” he says, grinning wickedly as he moves and picks up the letter opening. He cleaned it, then put it back in the holder on her desk. He unlocked the door and walked out until he found someone who looked like an administrator. “The young woman, Eva? She seems to be a bit ill. I was visiting a professor when she collapsed. I helped her to her room, as I didn’t know where your infirmary was, but someone should check up on her, she seemed pretty dazed. She was very skinny, maybe she’s hungry?” he suggests before seeing himself out.


Brennia saw and felt all of it so she left her room on the hunt. Anger flashing in her eyes and uncaring that she was in a nightgown which exposes her scars from the sun and the newer wound where a ninja star was thrown at her. She catches him right at the exit and while descending down the stairs, “wait!” Screw the rest of these long stairs and she leaps from them with her wings open to allow the glide down to him. Anger, hurt and jealousy not only overflowing in the rest of their bond, but written all over her face. She didn’t care that there were a couple of students up late lingering in the main hall, this was going to be a scene, “why did you come back here!?” She got right in his face, “you changed your mind on wanting to hurt me!? Is that it?” Her voice broke here or there and there were tears rimming her liberty blue eyes while her hands raise up to shove him, if she could, but she was weak lately. Pale, scarred and tired she looked almost as dead as he is.


Daermon stopped, turning to find the woman flying to him. He catches her wrists as she pushes him, and oh, he seemed much stronger after feeding on Eva. “You really want to know?” he asks, voice cold. The bond was forced open, the ice shattering, exploding as he flooded her mind with the memories of the note, the ring, Eva having both, her words, her lies about where she’d found them. Her want to destroy and hurt Brennia, and how Daer had found a way to escape her without killing the chit. “Does that seem like the actions of someone who wants to hurt you?!” he snarls. “Maybe I should have killed the girl. Left a nice corpse for you to deal with.” he says, releasing his hold on her. “Maybe I should have turned her. She sure wanted me to, sure hates you and wants to see you fall. And yet, I don’t, and didn’t, and so, I found a way out, without involving you. Or so I’d bloody thought.” he sneers eyes flashing dangerously.


Brennia stepped away once released and rubbed one of her wrists before the back of one of her hands catches a tear on her cheek. She thinks he should have just let her die, but guilt immediately follows that and then she wonders if he heard that because it’s been so long and she’s sort of forgot. After searching his face and then his items on hand with her eyes as if she could find what he showed her, “where are they?” She held out a slightly shaky hand and if his eyes wandered he could tell it was cold in here even if he wasn’t anymore. “The note and the ring, Daermon?” She hadn’t even said his name in so long that her subtle Veretian(French) accent showed in the pronunciation. A long blink in forcing herself to look up into those glacial hues, “it was stolen from me. Thank you for retrieving them, but I want them back.” Her jaw clenched as her stomach was slowly subsiding from feeling sick a moment ago.


Daermon watched her, his face almost showing no emotion, yet, with the tear, she might feel the pang inside the bond, the love, the hurt, the guilt and regret. His eyes fell on her hand, outstretched, asking for what he’d left. After a moment, he hands her the ring, then, looking around, spots a table with a quill, ink and parchment. He writes quickly, clearly though, speaking as he does. “Eva burned the original up, so you could never have it. But, here is what it said, everything, exactly as I wrote it.” he tells her, folding the note once done and handing it to her, not letting go at first. “Wait till I leave to read it…please.” he asks, softly. “And do something about Eva. Something discreet. That girl will hurt you if not.” he promises, knowing the depth of her madness from the taste of her on his tongue. He watches her a moment more, then, nods and turns to go, the note and ring with whom they had been meant for.


Don’t Wake Me Up

Summary: That’s the thing about a permanent bond… They are till death.

Dreamworld
A place where there are endless possibilities, but no reality and no chance. You can make up whatever you want here and never really have it. A place of a great and terrible beauty. You can face your darkest fears and store your deepest secrets, but should you ever really share them? … Probably not.



Daermon had returned to Vailkrin after leaving Brennia at the college. He’d gone back to the corpse of Larewen Dragana, but since it was still alive, he didn’t feel that was a good word for it. He studied her and the barrier holding back the Corruption, then, exhausted from staying awake to guard Bren, he went back to the camp he’d made. He settled on the ground, eyes drifting closed and was soon asleep. He began to dream, finding himself back in the college, in the room when he’d first decided to see Brennia. She was wearing a bit less in the dream, and he looked as he did now, not the desiccated being he’d been. In the way of dreams, he simply was there rather than making the trip as he had in reality.


Brennia drank quite a bit after that and a shaky trust between her and Raven returns. Easily falling into sleep shortly after and for the third night in a row she appears in the classroom with blurry faces of students. Yeah, probably not as covered up and there’s a clue clue that this is just a dream while she looks out the clear windows to the clear day beyond the glass. She felt lighter in these dreams and less burdened emotionally so her bright smile beams with that dimple inducing smile. Still in a waist high pencil skirt which has a short sleeve blouse tucked in, but that usual brilliant blue she likes to wear. The lesson begins as usual and blue eyes watching that corner as if waiting for him to show up. It never gets easier, her smile dwindles and a hand to her stomach as if someone just stuck a knife there. The lesson continues, but is different, “did it exceed your expectations, or let you down? Let you feel ugly? Let you feel inadequate and just plain old not good enough?” A sigh and the students just vanish from the dream and she looks a little confused.


Daermon was there, though the students weren’t suddenly. He hadn’t gleamed that this was anything other than a dream yet. He spoke; answering the questions of what he thought was dream Brennia. “No. I let you down, made you feel ugly and inadequate and simply not good enough. You asked and I panicked. My last two relationships…they were exclusive. They ended disastrously and something in my mind made me panic, scared me, made me think that if we were exclusive, we’d blow up to. In that panic, I ruined it. We fought; you told me you never wanted to see me again. I didn’t know you didn’t mean it. I took it too harshly, but then, we were both angry, weren’t we? So I left. I fled. I didn’t say goodbye to anyone. In a drunken anger I stepped sideways and left. By the time I found myself again…months had passed here. I was too terrified to return…too scared to face you.”


Brennia thought she had found a nice place for a woman of her beauty of confidence without arrogance. She strides to make everyone feel beautiful around her no matter what, but she struggled so long after him by using people, drugs, and wine. That usual saunter narrows almost all the distance between them, “I wanted you to leave because I was mad at you, not because I stopped loving you, but was only so angry because I ultimately hurt myself. I was a fool to think I was any exception to the rule and in the beginning, when I thought on how alluring we are… I made it open for you, but lied to myself in saying it was for me and I thought I was strong enough for that. This piece of you would be enough for me, but I was a fool, wasn’t I?” She was still smiling and fixing him with a look between an intense desire and a secret pain.


Daermon was now very impressed that his dream was conjuring something so honest. “No…you weren’t a fool. I was scared because I loved you, and I wanted to be with you and only you, but it took me time to figure that out. You’d always seemed so sure of the open thing, I was scared we’d ruin us by not having that buffer…but I should have agreed when you asked. I wanted it secretly, just you and just me.” his hand lifted to caress her cheek. “We lost so much time, so much of ourselves to this. It broke us both in different ways. I know that I can’t have you anymore. That chance is gone. Lost to me, like so much else. Sirelings, friends…hell, my own sanity.” he pulls away, turning away then. “The things I saw between worlds, the things I endured…they broke more than my body. I carry madness now, and struggle to keep it in. You deserve better and to be rid of me and the pain I caused. Perhaps when I wake, I will find out if Larewen knows a way to remove memories. You’re just a dream, but perhaps I can find a way to scour myself from the real Bren. So she can forget, stop hurting. She deserves it after all the pain in her life. She deserves to be free of me and happy.”


Brennia looked confused by his words. She is the real Bren? Why is her dream making her to be a fake person? If she thinks hard enough she can at least have him in her dreams. ‘Turn around and show me your words are true,’ she thinks, but him make her forget brought a whole flood of hurt to her through her dream. The dream morphed into a memory of him tackling Raven back when she was trying to make Brennia forget about herself… Where is that vial now. Is it still waiting for use? “Take my memories of you, what about you? Could you remove memories of me from your mind?” She found herself slipping between the space of the wall he turned to and himself, which made them close and her hand reached out to caress down the scar as she usually does until she was over where his heart doesn’t beat, “could you remove me from here? Or even further, could you remove me from your soul or have I not even imprinted there? Would that be anything you would want?” She was still smiling up at him with that stone-heart-melting smile even though a silent tear slipped from those deep blue eyes.


Daermon met those eyes as she moved between him and the wall. “You…you’re not a dream…are you?” he asks, knowing the truth, seeing it in her eyes. “This is a dream, but you’re really Bren. This is the work of the bond being open again…” he says, suddenly feeling foolish. “No…I wouldn't want to. Not truly. It’s selfish, but I want to keep you. And you’re a fool if you think you aren’t imprinted on all of my being.” he says, softening the words with a smile. They were so close. His hand touched her wing again, the feeling just like the real one. “Do you think I would have left my life after breaking up with anyone else?” he points out. “I never had before.” a twisted sort of showing how deep his care was for her. He pressed her against the wall with his form, one hand stroking a wing, the other wiping away the tear. “No more tears for me Bren. Please. I’m not worth them.” he says softly, his fingers rough, but gentle as he wiped it from her face. “Besides…I could never forget that arse.” he teases, soft, gentle, a ghost of a smile tugging his cool lips.


Brennia shakes her head, “no… It’s just a dream. It’s not real.” She doesn’t want to believe they could exist and control a dream, but she wants to remain blissfully unaware. His hand lost in one of her wings and it responds as if waiting for that all this time. “I can’t help it. It’s what you do when you mourn.” She was leaning into his caress of wiping her tear away and her hands reached up to run through his hair ending at the nape of his neck and gently trying to pull him closer to her face if he will allow it. Those deep blue eyes fearlessly staring far into his glacial ones, “if you really want to be free of me, Dearmon,” she said his name slowly and with that gilded tongue it sounded like an incantation to a spell, “then leave me in this dream, right now.” Her nose gently caressed and nudged his own with their lips nearly touching, “walk out like you did before.” It was a dare, another taunt.


Daermon | They were so close now, his hands on her, his body tight against hers. “That’s just it. I never wanted to be free of you.” he says the last space between their lips closing as they touched. His body was suddenly warm, in the strange way dreams work, and he was kissing her, his hands tangled in her wings, his lips parted as his tongue searched for hers. If it was a dream, then this was ok. He rationalized it to himself that way.


Brennia wrapped her arms around him because this is a dream, only a dream, and deepened their kissing with a hungry passion. Just like nothing has happened those wings close around them as they used to and she held onto the sides of his face when she roughly pulled her lips away from him, her voice barely a whisper, “I wanted to die, too. I’ve gotten so weak.” And it’s his fault, but this is a dream and she doesn’t want to ruin her dream. One of her thumbs caress his lower lip and knicks her thumb on a fang, by ‘accident’. A playful pout from those plump lips, “whoops.” Could she tempt dream Daermon this time? The dreams always ended right before that or like the real event, he was able to resist. She caresses the bead of blood on that dip of her neck where he never left his mark on her.


Daermon merely shakes his head, encompassed in her wings. “You’re not weak. You’ve just forgotten your strength. We’ll find it again together.” he offers, the smell of her blood intoxicating even in the dream. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to taste you in your office.” he tells her, the dream landscape changing to bring them back to the office. Her back pressed to the door. His lips pulled back exposing the razor sharp fangs, then pressing them into her. She’d feel it as they broke the skin. Pain, but oh, the pleasure was overwhelming. Her blood tasted like the sweetest alcohol, the best vintage and he drank deeply, hands clutching into her feathers, his body shaking against hers.


Brennia gasped before a whisper, “I wanted you to,” as her head tilted away so it was easier for him and she felt all of it.’You think that was my first crystal ball that’s broken on me and that I would be so careless around you?’ She felt so good and it possibly transferred in their bond as well, but that’s when she realized it was all too real. After a moment of drinking she found her hands tugging at the hairs on the crown of his hair and once she pulled him free of her neck she nearly crushed him with a rough, bloody, kiss. Then she vanished when she shot up in bed, sweaty and heart pounding uncontrollably. She quickly moved to a mirror and checked her neck for bite holes where he was just drinking from… it was just a dream right and in that moment she wonders if he’s awake too.


Daermon knew the answer before she’d even said it. He’d known and only his stubborn pride had kept him from it that first reunion. Pride and guilt. The rough, bloody kiss was everything he could have wanted and then she was gone. He woke up as well, not panting, or heart beating, as he didn’t need those things, but regardless, he woke at his camp site, and she might feel it along the bond. Love, need…him. He leaned his head back against the tree where his back rested, his fire down low, the night dark and warm and he sighed. Yeah, he had it bad. There would be no holes, for even though they could feel, they couldn’t actually physically affect the other's body, so her neck would be pristine, but she’d feel it like they were there, know the pleasure, the pain, just as he’d taste her on his tongue, feel the beating of her pulse against his tongue.


Brennia didn’t and couldn’t fall back to sleep after their dream, but the rest of the next day she worried if it were real in a way that wasn’t. Was this a gray area? Why is he trying to torture her so sweetly? The whole day she was on autopilot wondering if he had the same dream and toying with his ring dangling around her neck. It wasn’t until the next night that he would feel those walls break down once more when she let pure exhaustion (because of drinking and dancing with her friend Sidd) take place. She stood in the emptiness of where her piano used to stand, watching her past drunken self play away at the piano with pity, but a renewed understanding. She scowled at her depressed self and how skinny she was and how dull her skin and hair looked, but remained still in listening to the song while wondering if he’d show this time. For whatever reason she wore a handcrafted sapphire velvet dress with a swooping neckline that plunges in the back for her wings. He probably never seen her look so put together before.


Daermon had gotten up after the dream, renewing his need to stay busy and had kept on researching Larewen and her new condition. His mind strayed to Brennia much while he worked, even writing her name a few times as he took notes, which he always had to scribble out and start over. That night he’d fallen asleep against the tree that had become his bed again, once more being pulled into the shared dream. In the way of dreams, he was suddenly there beside her. He’d seen her dressed up a few times, and in the instinctual way dreams change, suddenly he was dressed in a three piece suit of black and blood red with a soft trim of blue. It looked as amazing on him as her dress looked on her. The sight of her at the piano hit his heart hard, for that was his fault too. He didn’t say anything, his presence simply there, beside her, both dressed as if they were at a ball.


Brennia chuckled as the end of the song faltered and the half dressed depressed Brennia broke down at the end, “I thought if I sang the song like a spell I could reach you from so far away in our bond. I made myself believe that it worked and you just opted to ignore me.” She linked her arm through his while they stood there and watched as the song replayed, but she was fixing him with a certain look as if she could see right through him. She was silent and sighed, “can we just say this isn’t real? Why is this bond so… Vivid?” She almost looked pained to ask, “is there no way to rid ourselves of this crutch?”


Daermon made her arm more comfortable on his, still watching the broken Bren play. Penance, not allowing himself to look away. “You couldn’t reach me where I was. I would have never ignored a call from you…” he says. “The bond is always vivid. I told you before you let me bond you…wanted you sure. It can’t be broken short of death. We can try blocking each other. I’ll block you out if you want it. Or…I could leave again, ridding you of me and the bond again.” his eyes finally left memory Brennia for the one with him. “Do you want to be free of me? I’ll go, if that’s what you want.” he says, voice firm. He would do it for her.


Brennia turned to him and rested her arms on his shoulders while they sort of swayed with the music to the memory, “I don’t deserve to have such a hold over you.” She messes up his smoothed down and parted hair so it’s softly wild as it usually is with just the running of her fingers through his hair. Even the wings have little pieces of jewelry adorning the feathers while her hair was curled and left mostly down save for the pins holding all of it to one side. “Do you wish you never came back? Because if this is torturing me then it must be for you?” She forced a smile, “I’m sure you could block these dreams easily with someone next to you… and given the way we met. It won’t be long.”


Daermon met her eyes as they swayed. “Of course I don’t. I came back because I wanted to. And yes, it is torture of a sort…but it’s better than what we’ve found in the real world.” he says, hands on her hips. “You don’t get to choose the level of hold you have. And I told you in person the same thing I will tell you now. I’m not interested in anyone else. Do you want me to get a new girl so you feel less guilty about yours?” he asks, not unkindly. “I don’t blame you moving on. But I don’t want anyone else. Not right now at least. No lovers, one night stands or flings. I’m not interested in that right now. I don’t know when, or if I will. I don’t tell you because I want you to feel bad, or want you to come back to me. I tell you because I want you to understand. You are important and not so easily replaced.” he explains softly, not quite meeting her eyes.


Brennia’s wings dipped down in the heaviness of their conversation. “So, if I want you to kill a guy you’d do it?” She says about him moving on without filter, “if I think about you with someone in the way we were together, I selfishly get jealous.” She sighs before resting her head on one of his shoulders, “I just want you to tell me something, anything that could make it easier to pull away from you. Make fun of my conservative outfits again?” She turns her head till her lips were close to grazing his ear when she says, “I wish we could stay here… Is this wrong?” It all just a dream, right? No one but them will know.


Daermon’s hand found her wing, stroking the suddenly drooping appendage and happy to see it seem to lift, to press against him. “You know I would kill for you. Or die trying.” he says, offering her a soft smile. “I’m sure it does. Imagine how I feel, knowing you have someone already.” he points out. Oh yes, he knew jealousy. “You give me mixed signals birdy. You say you want me to help you pull away while in the same breath saying you want to stay. It cannot be both.” His fingers found her chin, tilting her face near his, their eyes locked. “I don’t know if it’s wrong or not. Can something that feels so right be completely wrong? Only you can answer that. Tell me to go and I will. Tell me to kiss you, and I’ll do that too…” he whispers, lips very close.


Brennia found that they have stopped swaying and the music stopped as well. “I’m sorry. I hate this…” a glance to the broken Brennia, “how can someone who made me feel so low still hold a place in my heart and soul?” Her brow furrows as she whispers back, “can we have both?” How would they even act out in the real world otherwise? She knows that’s a no. Her eyes look down at his lips while her hands now held onto his forearms, “kiss me. Show me what you had to go through and how you missed me.” It’s only fair since he’s witnessed two different occasions of her pain.


Daermon | This was one of the few times he wouldn’t argue with her. He kissed her. It was rough, passionate, and in her mind, she’d see it. She’d live it during their kiss. The last image of her, screaming at him that she never wanted to see him again. Drowning in the bottle of the strong stuff that could get a vampire drunk. Pulling on the shadows against Illyane’s wishes. Glimpses of the worlds beyond. Pain, oh gods the pain. Pain of the flesh as they burned, or hurt him. Pain of the mind as the things he saw twisted and broke pieces of his sanity. Pain of the heart as he craved his bird, as he missed her, as he needed her and knew that she’d been lost too. Years in those dark, terrible places. Pain of the soul as he longed to die to end the pain. Then something he hadn’t meant to show. Something she wasn’t supposed to see spilled through. There he was in the classroom. A year for her, broken, rebuilt, decades for him, still broken, and she’d feel it without words, know it because she was living it with him in his mind. He had come back for one look and had been set on killing himself, on ending the pain, the misery. She had been his final image, the thing he wanted before he had planned on going…yet, she’d seen him, she’d spoken to him, and his resolve fled. He wanted to atone, to hold, and apologize and beg her for forgiveness. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he kissed her and she saw his life. The memories ended, having taken moments, but she’d feel it, know what he’d gone through, what he’d planned to do until she’d seen him. ‘I want to have this. To have both.’ he whispers in her thoughts, so very silent as they kissed. ‘I want you…and it’s wrong, and repulsive, but I’d take it, even here, where none but us existed.’


Brennia felt her own hot tears spill while her eyes closed in their kiss. When she realizes what he was going to do her arms and wings close around him - still kissing and her nails lightly dug into the jacket of his blazer. Her heart felt like someone was squeezing it in a vice and the longer they stayed in this dream state the harder it would be for him to ignore what she was feeling. Once it all stopped she pulled back and gave him a slap, that he would feel half way in their dream state, but once she looked around she realized they weren’t inside the castle anymore in her dream. Transferred out in the beautiful gardens within the courtyard of her castle and she gasps out, “oh no!” She can’t change the dream and her heart was beating wildly because she doesn’t want him to see this, “please, change it.” Maybe he can because he’s stronger than her in her drunken state. She turns away just as a pair of twins run past them exclaiming “daddy!” One boy, one girl with eyes like his and a mix of their skin tone, one with wings, one without both half avian half human. Brennia cannot bring herself to look at him, but there was another version of him, vampire, short hair, happy, and without the extra 20 years. The kids embrace him and he seems delighted until his expression softens for a pregnant, positively glowing, Brennia and he gives her a loving kiss. Beautiful family, obviously, but this probably explains why she wanted more. Today’s Brennia backs away telling herself to ‘wake up, wake up!’ And she disappears, but wakes up in a complete panic with a scream before curling in on herself atop her bed at the Cenril Inn.


Daermon | The way she clutched him felt so...amazing. He loved when she clung to him like that and though it was an awful moment, it was also somewhat beautiful. When she pulled away, all the time, all the things she'd felt, he didn't expect the slap, it caught him completely off guard. As she called out, he couldn't help but look around. The scene shot through him like lightning. Granted...it could never have been. He was a vampire. He was dead. He couldn't make children. But it was...it was something beautiful, something amazing. Bren looks beautiful even swollen with child and the scene took the strong man to his knees. It was too much, for both of them apparently, as Brennia stumbled back and was gone. The dream space lingered for a few scant moments after her departure, enough time for the little winged avian with his eyes to move nearer, reaching down for some flowers, unable to see the vampire before her. She knelt down before the fallen man, and as his hand reached for something he could never have, something so painfully beautiful, the dream shattered and he woke. In the depths of Vailkrin, residents heard a peculiar howl. Something not human, but not like any animal they'd ever heard. It was a sound of such profound grief and loss, it terrified them. Brennia would not see Daermon for several days or nights after that. She'd feel him along the bond, but he kept away, unable to see her after what they'd shared.


Raven Offers a Deal

Summary: Raven makes Daer Bear an offer he can refuse.. But he should think on it.

Wine Cellar Exploring your way through the vast dormitory only a few find their way into the wine cellar. This cellar is fully stocked with any wine you could imagine from Chardonnay to Viognier and Cabernet Sauvignon to Zinfandel; all bottles neatly tucked into diamond shaped nooks which are carved into these golden walls and a plethora of racks. It is a beauty to behold. The room is only clad in a thin layer of rose gold. Find what you please and if it's harder drink you seek I would recommend the cabinet with the alchemical snake above it holding extra stilled scotch with light citrus, brine and smoky sweetness on the tongue. Maybe try the cabinet with the dragon depicted above it containing specially crafted whisky offering a rich burst of flavor, with a palate of soft honey and deliciously nutty toffee (strong stuff here, I do not recommend to those faint of heart.) Possible vampire? Try the bureau with the image of a bat offering many liquors with rare types of bloods mixed in them, I would recommend steering clear of the brandy in this one though. Venturing deeper through the maze of wine racks and beer casks until you come across deep purple drapes with an emerald eyed golden snake sewn into the fabric, for it's an enchantress's corner to dabble in her apothecary. Here you will find a myriad of any and every ingredient known to all Hollowites, rarity no issue, but the glamorous sight of all the decadent potion bottles against the golden cellar may entice one to give any a try to just see what might happen…. I dare you.



Brennia | Several days go by when Raven waits for Daermon to be alone, of which she can sense though that tiny bit of tattoo she’s left behind on him. She slips the ring he gave Brennia off her and puts it on once she’s made her way down to the wine cellar, but she took a potion that makes her appear more humanoid temporarily and just For experiential sakes. She chose to look as she used to be; dark a midnight wings, hair to match, the deepest green eyes you ever did see and skin like milk, outfit accustom to royalty from Vere and the only hint he would know it’s Raven is that she left her ink on her shoulder to display his same tattoo. She does hope she’s connected with him on one of those drunken nights while she sifted through the apothecary corner of the cellar. She’s a lot thinner, almost willowy, than Brennia and taller as well, but something about her would feel powerful and ancient. She found the tiny vial of which seemed to glow in the dim of the cellar.


Daermon felt the tug, though he thought of resisting it. He was drunk, or as drunk as he could be, though it was only a matter of time before he burned it all up and was sober again. He felt the call of the ring though, and worried, he pulled his power and stepped thru the shadows, arriving in the cellar wearing only a dark pair of leather pants, his feet and torso bare. “Bren?” he asks, voice softly slurred as he took in the back of the being before him. It was clear though that it was not. “Who are you?” he asks, the concern leaving his voice as she had his ring, which meant she’d taken it from Brennia somehow. He stepped from the shadows, his hard form catching the light, all scars and hard muscle.


Brennia | Raven turns at the sound, slowly and calculating, but when her deep green eyes take in the sight of the vampire she sort of rolls her eyes, “incubus… I see you aren’t too well.” That’s good, easier to persuade him. “I’m Raven. Or as I was originally thought to be called, Inky. Brennia’s father killed me, but I had transferred my powers into infant Brennia long before then.” The small vial which was attached to some twine for a self made necklace dangles in her hands. Her own voice is a little like a sickening lullaby, “I’m going to level with you.” Unnatural movement brings herself closer to the vampire, “Brennia is going to be running for Senator of Schezerade. You know how bad they will drag her name through the mud already if she’s around a,” her judgemental eyes look him up and down, “vampire.” At least he can take pleasure in knowing that it bothered Raven whenever him and Brennia laid together. If he goes to speak she would cut him off, “I don’t have a lot of time in this form. Without her.” Her gaze drops to the vial at hand, “you don’t become attached to someone for a hundred and thirty five years without picking up on every detail of them.” She rolls her eyes again, “she’s considering throwing everything away to have you again, incubus… But that would destroy everything she’s built over this past year.” She waits only a moment before holding the vial out to him, “think about it.”


Daermon sobered quickly, his eyes narrowing coldly. His voice was frosty as well. The blood from Larewen had tainted what had been cool and calm, leaving him a bit quicker to anger, a bit more...mad, as Larewen’s madness had mixed with his own. “Oh Inky...and here I thought you used to like me. You used to get all...excited whenever I was around.” he taunts, feigning a shiver, like one might have when their lover was near. “Now you don’t like me? I’d think that you’d enjoy that Brennia was thinking of throwing it all away for me, what with how much you seem to hate her...or is it that being with me, might make her happy, and you’d rather she not have that instead?” he says, thinking to have hit the nail on the head. “ He takes the vial, looking it over. “Is this what I think?” he asks, thinking it was the vial Brennia had almost used to erase herself before. Or was he remembering that wrong? The alcohol and the madness worked against him in remembering things…


Brennia | Raven grins revealing a nightmare of pointy white teeth, “it is. If you walked around forgetting her then she can finally move on. She’s selfish and doesn’t want to lie and tell you to leave her be.” She closes her eyes a moment, “even right now she’s playing on repeat in her dreams of when you two last parted ways. She keeps wanting the change the outcome. Keeps waiting for you to make an appearance in them.” A scoff, “she’s so weak. This bitch.” She closes his hand around the vial, “we both know I could have easily slipped this to you using Brennia and persuasion. I’m extending a trust to you that you would know what’s best for Brennia as I do.” Her expression hardens and she looks as if a stern parent, “a man, named Vermillion Draft is the one behind the attacks. I don’t know how yet, but we will find out. Now, with her heads up in the clouds how is she supposed to protect herself?” Her cool touch leaves his own and she turns away, “they keep testing her. Getting me to come out and further discredit her, but because of you they got what they wanted that night.” Her eyes narrow on him, “you did too… The two of you sicken me with those sappy admissions of love and hurting.” Another roll of her eyes, “please.”


Daermon did take the vial, but he didn’t drink it, didn’t do anything with it other than fold it into his hand. “You don’t give her enough credit. She’s stronger than that. Yes...things could have gone better for us, but things can always change. Who better to help her against this man, than myself? Even if it doesn’t end with her in my arms, why wouldn’t I want to help her? Oh Raven…” he says, smirking, though keeping his eyes on her, for she was too dangerous not to. “We both know what this really is. If she has me, she won’t need you anymore. She won’t rely on you, let you out to play, draw on you. You want me gone so you can continue to run free, to exert the freedom you have. That’s all you care about. You only care about her in the sense that you need a vessel. I’ll think about it. I’ll choose my path, as always, but I’m curious to see what Brennia might think about you interfering. I could show her. I could tell her about this, let her watch it…” he says, smiling a cold smile. “I never liked you. You aren’t fun like some peoples demons. You don’t care about Bren. So really, what good are you?” he says, though he knows his words mean nothing to this creature. “Don’t call me again Raven. I’ll think about what you said, I’ll decide if you’re right...I don’t know which of us is the stronger. But you won’t find me easy prey, like those wonderful gentlemen we slaughtered. So for now, let’s call a truce while I decide what to do.” He looked almost wistful and sad for a moment. “A shame too. We could have had so much fun together, instead of being opposed.” he says before stepping back into the shadows and vanishing, vial in hand.


Brennia | Raven looked almost bored as he went on and on. A shrug when he threatened to tell on her, “that would be your call. I was there to put the pieces back together when her heart was shattered into pieces. I can do it again.” When he says he never liked her she pouts and looks doe eyed, but it’s a farce and that pretty face twists up into the darkness she is when she bares her teeth at him, “good.” The glimmer potion flickers and bounces back to the pretty Raven she used to be, “What good am I?” She was calm, like, too calm - I mean he saw or heard what she did in that dark forest. “I am where Brennia hails her power from. And being halfway to four hundred years in existence while honing my power I’d watch my cocky attitude if I were you.” When he said he’d think on it her hands went up as if being accused of something, “that’s all I ask, incubus… Think on it.” He keeps trying to get under her skin though and when he talks of them partnering up she grins again, “let’s do that then, why don’t you check on our dear Brennia right now. Make sure she’s sleeping just fine,” a wink before he disappears and just at that time her glimmer wore off as well. The ink piles up on itself upon the floor and slithers silently like a shadow until she's back to decorating that beautiful caramel skin.


Daermon did not go check on his favorite Avian. He was lots of things, but no fool. He knew where Bren would be this time of the night. And that wasn’t something he wanted to see. Knowing was one thing, seeing another. No, instead he whisked himself back to his little makeshift camp and settled in to think on Raven’s...offer. If Raven was intent on not liking him, then that would make things very difficult regardless of Bren’s choices. He didn’t fear Raven. He’d known beings similar to her in the past. He sighed softly, toying with the vial as it glittered in his firelight.


Our Paths

Summary: Brennia wakes from what she thought was a nightmare, but realizes through a bond she shares with him that it was not. Given what she’s discovered about his intention recently she hurries to make sure he’s not going to do anything rash.

Cliff
This cliff doesn't seem very treacherous compared to some that you've seen around here. There isn't anything in particular about this one despite the wholesome glow coming from the bottom. You wonder what could be down there, but you don't see any way to reach it. If you only had someone to belay you down, you might be able to make it its only about 45 feet tall. To the south there is rather rough territory, while to the west is a path leading to a small village.



Daermon | It had been days since the shared dream. The first had been so…intense. She’d finally cracked a bit, told him some truth. The second…yeah, that had been emotional, traumatic and enough to drive the vampire into the bottle. He functioned when he was around others, seemingly fine, but when he was alone, he broke open that horrid stuff that was strong enough to get him drunk and doused himself in it. He walled the bond off, though once drunk, a few things would slip through unbidden. Night had fallen and not just the permanent night of Vailkrin, for he’d wandered out. Drunk, stumbling, he went to one of his favorite spots, the cliff overlooking the valley in the mountains of Xalious. Perhaps not the smartest idea when you were stumbling drunk. He leaned heavily against the tree, drunk, bond completely open, enough that were she awake, she might see the long drop below. And perhaps she’d think he meant to do something rash.


Brennia didn’t sleep for days after that dream and kept herself thoroughly distracted day in and day out. Eventually sleep found her as when she discovered that a more real version of him wasn’t there if at all she allowed herself rest, but she was awake she still wondered throughout the days if they were really sharing those dreams if it was due to the wound he’s ripped back open so savagely. Brennia though she was dreaming of the cliff, but cliffs don’t worry her - ya know because of wings. So, that’s odd, but the start she got when she woke up and thought a moment, she realized that wasn’t herself in what she thought was a dream. She threw her hair up into a ponytail and regretted the fact that once she was flying she didn’t grab a robe. Once she spotted him she swooped down beside him, “must I slap you once more?” If he dared look at her he would see she was wearing a cropped t shirt which displays the word Cardinals over the bust and a pair of loose fitting pants, like sweat pants. She looks good even in crappy clothes and she slowly brings herself to sit near him, she tried to keep their conversation light, “someone break your heart again?”


Daermon hadn’t honestly been about to do anything, but he was heavily drunk, so the possibility of falling off had been real. He’d likely survive the plummet with some luck, but…hard to say. He looked up when she spoke of slaps, taking in her appearance, then looking back out over the cliff edge and taking a long pull from a bottle. “Nope. Jus the same avian.” he slurs. This close, her heightened senses would be able to tell he’d been staying functioning drunk for days, getting completely wrecked in the nights since their last shared dream. “Why? Did ju come heres to slap me again?” he asks.


Brennia sighs out, “that bitch.” She looks at him a long moment allowing herself to feel guilty for this state of mind he’s in. Trying to pretend that their dreams weren’t real she presses on, “if I thought you were going to kill yourself over some woman than - yeah.” She said in a self depreciating manner because maybe if she continues to say she’s not worth that he will believe it. She’s never seen him so plastered, in person, not even when they drank together because they always found something better to do. She feels awkward, like this person knows her deepest darkest secrets, but the way they found out doesn’t seem possible or she doesn’t want it to be. She wants to keep that mysterious little secret, but is he too drunk to care of reality or non reality?


Daermon let out a laugh, rocking forward with it, and for a moment, lost his balance and nearly fell, but stumbled and righted himself. “Yeah, she can be. But she can be swheet too. And shexy…sexy. B-Beautiful.” he says, stumbling over the words. “No, I’m not drunk because of her. Not directly. I saw something that perhaps could have been…something beautiful and awful in its beauty.” His words were clearer for a moment, as though just thinking of it sobered him. Seeming to realize it, he drank, pulling deep from the bottle, though it was empty before he wanted it to be. With a snarl, he hurled it against the tree where it shattered. Shards of glass flew everywhere, but none touched Brennia. A barrier of thin shadow kept them from her. The vampire however received a few small cuts that oozed blood. He didn’t even seem to notice as his face and arms bled, for with his strength, throwing a glass like that shot pieces with the force of arrows. “Haunted by a little girl with icy eyes…” he mumbles. “And my damn biology makes it near impossible to stay drunk…” he growls.


Brennia reached her hands for him, but saw he wasn't going to fall off and relaxed -mostly. She felt herself blushing from his words as she doesn’t care that he’s drunk, but it’s still nice to hear from him and turns herself from him for a second. His words became clearer and she felt her heart grip while beating harder with worry, but intense fear. It was real and that scares the crap out of her, but he’s back to drowning in the bottle and attempts to take it from him. She was too late and the bottle is thrown causing her to duck while curving her wing around herself, but he protected her like he always did. Her before him. A gulp from her as tears threatened, rimming her eyes, until she blinked them away and makes work of trying to pull the glass from his flesh. She whispers as if she were trying to not disturb the reality from dreams, “you were never supposed to see that, it was only supposed to be my own burden. I thought,” Her voice broke slightly before gently clearing her throat and continuing, “that if I ignored it, it would go away. I knew it was impossible and what it would take, you’d never do, but eventually the dream became clearer and clearer. I asked too much of you. I’m so selfish.” Yes, keep talking bad about yourself and maybe he’d think you really weren’t worthy - that’ll work Brennia.


Daermon didn’t even flinch as she began to pull the glass from him. “I’m sure I wasn’t. I wasn’t supposed to do a lot of things. I wasn’t supposed to come back. I wasn’t supposed to cause you so much pain. I wasn’t supposed to leave to begin with…” he says, watching her closely. “It’s our burden…and now we’ll never know what I would have done. I loved…no…love you. I would have tried…for you. Please Bren…stop talking so badly of yourself.” he asks, still glassy, but only a soft slur to his words. “Look…if you ask it of me, I’ll stop telling you how I feel. I’ll stop coming to see you and I’ll try to strengthen the wall of the bond on my end to stay out of your dreams…but I ask that you tell me to, to my face. Look me in the eyes and tell me you only want to be my friend and nothing more and I’ll make sure nothing else happens. I’ll find a way. For you.” he says seriously, a shard of glass glittering in his forehead and cheek. He seemed far too sober now. “You didn’t bring any booze did you?” he asks softly, a playful tilt to his voice.


Brennia places her hand on the side of his face while two sharpened black fingernails work at pulling free the glass and she made sure to be gentle. She shook her head at the question about booze and without meaning to he could find her struggle of trying to summon up the courage to lie and say these things to him. Her tone isn’t a whisper anymore, but a soothing and kind one, “Daermon… Do you remember the first time we met at The Hanging Corpse?” Her smile slowly spread across her plump lips and a dimple pokes in, “I was living there. Living off my songs and you were… Taken. Weren’t you?” She remembers taunting and teasing him, but being shot down. Awful attempt at changing the subject.


Daermon | The vampire watched her as she tried to gently remove the glass from his face. He’d let her change the subject for now, but this was an answer she would need to face at some point. He let it slide just now, as she had to answer that question for herself before she could answer him. “Yes, I remember. And yes, I was taken, but then, I was always taken back then.” he reminds with a kind smile of his own. He was curious to see where she was going with this. “You should smile more. I always loved your smile. Those plump lips...” he says, his voice not teasing anymore as his finger and claw reached up to brush her warm lips. “Good for a lot of things if I remember.” the sparkle in his eye was mischievous now.


Brennia smiles a bit wider before her bottom lip tucks between perfect pearly white teeth. “I would like for you, if you could in your current state, look into your soul and tell me… Do you think you would have ever only chosen me. Would have honestly gone through what it would have taken for us to… Conceive and then turn back again?” Her heart pounded fast because she was scared of either answer. “Please just tell me what would have really happened if I told you I had changed my mind and I wanted that forever and only companionship with a family. I understand now, people change and grow, but sometimes they don’t grow together. Did I desire too much that you didn’t want or couldn’t give?” Those deep blue eyes seek his glacial ones.


Daermon | The two sets of blues met and though in his heart he knew what he should say, what would be the right thing, the proper thing to do; no…instead he told her the truth. “I should lie and tell you no. Tell you so you could move on, move past, and finally let my hold go. But I can’t because I’m selfish and weak. Yes. I would have given up all others and my immortality to be with you. I’d have given my life in pursuit if necessary and I would have found a way back to my immortality, for each second with you isn’t enough. Days, months, years, no, none would be enough. Eternity maybe…that might be just enough time.” he says, honest, even though it was the wrong thing to do.


Brennia wanted to cry again and nearly did, again, but she held self together. He’s probably so sick of seeing her cry anyway. She fell quiet and slid her hands slowly from his face down to his chest and balled up her fists there. “I wish we could have had it all, but right now we are on different paths. You along with Larewen and me with what’s going on in Schezerade. We need to give these paths a fighting chance and just hope they cross one day,” her hands gently hold the sides of his face and she bursts through the bond with such a sense of sadness and a couple of tears that he would be surprised she wasn’t crawled up in the fetal position on the ground. “I want you to find yourself and do whatever it is that makes you happy, but you will always have a place somewhere within my heart.” She sniffles softly and smiles again, “I am happy you’ve returned and I do have love for you and care for you. I wish to be friendly,” she thinks ‘and maybe find me in our dreams sometimes.’ Her eyes still locked with his as she hopes he understands this is not goodbye, but more of a see you later.


Daermon understood. He took her hands on his chest, holding them, and then nodded. “I understand. Forgive yourself Bren. You carry the weight of guilt around you and if you let it, it will crush you. I must learn to forgive myself too.” he leaned forward, kissing her cheek, his cool lips pressing against her wet, flushed flesh, then, he released her and stepped back. If they were going to try to take different paths, he couldn’t touch her, it would be inappropriate, though she’d feel how badly he wanted to through their bond. “You have my note and ring. You know where I stand, you know I am your friend and am here if you need anything. Help…just anything Bren. Even someone to talk to. If you don’t see it now, maybe you can later.” he explains, giving her a smile, even if it was a little sad. 'I will...perhaps, from time to time.' he whispers back in the bond, so quiet.


Brennia doesn’t shy away from the kiss on the cheek and as she stands there looking at him while her stomach was doing somersaults within. She steps with him when he steps back and one last time follows that path of his scar on his cheek because she always adored all of his scars. One last time she wraps her arms around his shoulders along with her wings in a tight embrace that probably lasted longer than it should, ‘as much as it will hurt me I wish you find someone to love you like this… And she better never let you go.’ It was just how she held onto him in their dream and a part of her wished this was just some horrible nightmare, but she knew better. Before she lets him go she lifts her head from his shoulder and places a lingering soft kiss on the apple of his cheek before she took off soaring into the skies. A pristine onyx feather lazily falls before him as the stress of the situation was causing her to loose them here or there.


Daermon watched her go, for she was never more beautiful than in flight, but he had no words for her. Not just yet. As the onyx feather lazily falls, he catches it. It smelled of her, her scent, and he placed it inside his shirt. She’d been honest about one thing, wanting to see him in their dreams. He could do that. Perhaps not tonight, perhaps he’d give her a little time, but he would see her again soon. He knew it was wrong, she was spoken for, but for once, he was going to be selfish, and not care about right and wrong. He was going to spend his nights with her, as long as she allowed it. “My birdy.” he whispers, and maybe she’d know, feel, and hear it through the bond.

The Suggestion
The Offer
And Time Spent
Falling Again


Truly. Madly. Deeply.

Summary: Brennia must rescue Evanescenz again, but from someone unexpected. The end result opens up a chance to get closer to the human and definitely brings her and her vampire even closer- if that's even possible!

Restricted Wing Brennia, tired and drained meanders down the corridor a few hours later hopefully with her vampire in tow as they made their way to the end of the hallway where Eva was staying in the guest room. Opening up to find the poor girl had passed out right on the edge of the bed where the vampire left her and pipe in hand. While moving the downy bedding around to cover the girl up she asks Daermon softly, “can you help get her to the head of the bed?” Once she was set up Brennia glances to the fireplace within the room and hummed a fire spellsong until it lit brilliantly within the dim room. Drawing the shades so no sunlight comes in and then plopping down on the lounge near the balcony door, “would you keep watch and wake me if she wakes?” Her smile was tired, but kind as she was nearly nodding off to sleep already.


Daemon followed as he would always follow her, moving towards the room where Eva was staying. “You know, one of the best parts of being your bodyguard is that I get to follow behind you.” he says, eyes on a particular place, letting her know where he was looking through the bond. “You should remember that in the future and keep your wings from blocking me.” he teases, opening the door for Bren and letting her into the room. They found Eva, and Daermon moved to help her into the bed better as Brennia suggested. She barely stirred as he touched her. He turned back to Brennia smiling, “Of course.” he says, not calling her a pet name, lest their guest was more awake than she appeared. He moved into the only other seat, the one beside Eva and the bed and sat down, watching over the women in the dark room as the fire threw shadows about. Peaceful in a way, though he made sure to stay awake, alternating his gaze from the sleeping Brennia to the sleeping Eva. The girl had taken a moment to clean up before her herb he noticed.


Brennia slept well and pleasant dreams of which Daermon could probably guess as she emitted that soft raspy giggle before a mumble of, “stoooop. Daermon!” Like she did when he was trying to pull her sheet free that day. A satisfied smirk on plump lips of which was changed into a frown when Eva woke up screaming. Brennia, wrapped up tightly in a silk robe with a long gown underneath moved quickly next to the students side, “Evanescenz… Shhh, calm down… You are safe.” Big brown eyes threaten tears when she looked from Brennia to Daermon while shrinking away from Brennia and her comforting hands. The shaken young lady's knees curl up to her chest so she may wrap her thin arms around them to comfort herself, “thank the gods.” A spike of subtle anger felt from Brennia, her kind don’t believe in the gods and no… It’s thank Brennia…. But the feeling quickly goes away, “Eva, would you like something to eat or drink?” She shakes her head no to the question and corrects Brennia with a cold tone, “it’s Evanescenz.” Serving up a figurative slap in the face, but this doesn’t change Brennia demeanor or warm smile, “would you like to talk, Evanescenz?” The young adult human just fixes Brennia with a dead stare before eventually looking at Daermon with a, “no.” Brennia gets the hint and let silence fill the room while talking to Daermon in their special way, ‘I am going to leave. Ready her a nice hot bath with some candles and get her something to eat… Maybe she would talk to you a little more easily seeing as she’s obviously infatuated.’ With a nod she addresses the distressed Eva, “take your time with this… You have been through a lot.” Brennia tried again to reach out and pat Eva’s hand gently, but she flinched away from the avian as if she secretly blames Brennia for what happened.


Daermon did not like that he had become the little chits ambassador. He didn’t care for her personality at all. She was pretty enough to have caught his eye if he was still that man, but her personality was so...black, that would have ended it for him. ‘I will try.’ he tells Bren, watching her leave and turning his eyes back to Eva. “I see you have not heeded the words I left you with. Though you were civil, so I don’t have to collect any debts.” he tells her flatly, sitting in the chair beside the bed and watching her. “I asked her why...why she cared enough to save you when all you seem to do is cause trouble and hate her. She said it was because you were talented, because you have a greatness inside you, yet, you let the black of your emotions control you. The thing I don’t understand is...why do you care? Why does it matter to you what Brennia does, or who she does it with? Does it somehow affect the schooling you are receiving, or is it just because you’re used to be the prettiest center of attention around?” he asks, being blunt, honest as he sat and spoke.


Brennia | Eva seemed to just sit there and stare off into space as if she heard none of what the vampire was saying to her. She wiped her face free of tears once more and any emotion along with it before large brown eyes stare through Daermon. How different he seemed from the first time she saw him she knew he was a vampire - it was something he seemed to carry with pride, but now… Now he’s hidden and could easily pass for a human. A cold, but soft voice comes from her in her crude observations, “you think that if you play along and let her dress you up, hide what you are that she will ever want you? She’s an avian and you are a vampire.” They are really getting off subject here, but he was making it too easy to do so. Daermon has pretty much got her figured out, but she won’t admit it - not even to herself. “Instead you could have all the pretty things you want and one that would do anything you wished, have it the other way. I would never be ashamed or hide you if I was yours.” Interesting offer and choice of words - unbeknownst to her. She still kept her knees pulled up close to her chest and getting the idea that if she plays up the victim card it mind earn her some sympathy… Opportune moment when the fire lets out a single loud crack in the silence and this caused her convincing dramatics to play in as she crumpled to her side atop the bed; sobbing, whimpering, trembling. “No… no… Not again…. Please!” She was burying her head atop her knees with her hands protecting her skull as she tapped into that wild fear and terror she endured these past two weeks. “I promise… I don’t know anymore!”


Daermon let out a quiet sigh. Being kind was not working. And might not with this one. Not until she admitted things to herself. He didn’t react to her dramatics. In fact, as she laid there, whimpering, playing it up, but having some real terror, he stopped all the little actions that made him appear human. “You think I play along for her? I pretend for all of you. For the sake of your fragile minds, that you don’t die of fright from seeing the embodiment of death among you.” he whispers. He rose to his feet in an unnatural way, gliding to the bed. Suddenly he was simply there with her, his mouth full of razor sharp fangs like a shark almost, his eyes glowing softly, his voice seeming to echo from far away. “Tell me girl, am I so desirable now?” he asks, radiating with a cold chill, the chill of the grave. His hand touched her, and though he was fed, he was no longer warm as he stroked a hand down her cheek, claw tips lightly pressing. “I am a vampire little mortal. And you’ve felt my fangs before.” he whispers, moving close, almost intimately. “I almost killed you that night. As I could now. No one is here, no one would know. And you’d simply be dead. I could get away with it and end your pain, and the thorn you are in Brennia’s side all at once.” his hand slowly tightened around her lithe throat as his eyes found hers. “Should I? Do you desire a release like that?” he asks in a deep rumble. Since kindness had not worked, he went the opposite. Why not feed on her terror? Perhaps if he showed her he was a monster, he could get her to spill what had happened easier than being a man.


Brennia | Eva’s heart beat with true terror at the sight of him, but she held her composure and lied, “yes. Yes you are.” She pretends to love the monsters that lie under the skin like Brennia does, but it’s all a ruse because Eva is wondering how Brennia could ever love a face so hideous after it was so handsome just a second ago. Pretend, fake it till you make it, but now he is offering to kill her which doesn’t sound terrible after the few weeks she had. She started crying again, but these hot tears were read and with a more clear head… What is wrong with her, she was just tortured for two weeks and then she’s back to something that seemed so trivial a week ago when she was about to die. “No…” She sobbed miserably just as Brennia opened the door with a tray of light foods from the kitchen and water in one hand. Seeing Daermon in this form usually does it for her, but he was so close to Eva it looked like they were kissing until she realized what he was really doing when she could nearly hear Eva’s heart pounding away in fear. “Da-er-mon!” She let the door slam behind her after letting the tray in her hand clink heavily on the coffee table and the water pitcher follows. There was anger filling their bond and unless her clued her in she would continue to fill it with such emotions. Quickly she got to his side and forcefully pulled his forearms back from the girl, “what is wrong with you?! He has just been through hell… This is not what she needs right now.” Anger flashing in her eyes and just a hint of that black ink taking over her deep blue hues and it was Eva who reached out to Brennia to cling to her and put her between herself and Daermon… What… Silence and Brennia slowly wrapped Eva in an embrace while smoothing her warm hands up and down the trembling and sobbing girls back. The darkness in Brennia subsides and when she slowly blinks and looks back to Daermon; gaze trailing his form up and down, but even though he would feel that familiar excitement through their bond, true and strong her words lied for her, “I think you should leave this room.”


Daermon couldn’t have been more pleased with Brennia’s timing. He let his gaze turn to her, not once stopping the choking hand until she came over and forcefully put herself between the pair. ‘And like that you are her hero finally. I thought perhaps getting her infatuation out would help. Perhaps not the best way, but effective.’ he says along the bond as Eva clings to Bren, shaking in fear. “I merely sought to give her the release she claimed to want. But you’re right. I’ll go.” he says as his form lingered in that monstrous one, his true form, letting Brennia drink the sight in. He hadn’t looked like this since returning. ‘Hopefully my ruse worked and she will open up to you now.’ he says as he moves from the room, closing the door behind him and slipping his mask back on, returning to his human guise as he leans on the wall outside the door. ‘Leave the bond open. I want to hear what she has to say. And I’m sorry for the lack of heads up...and for exciting you without being able to help.’ the last part was cheeky and she’d feel the smile that went with it.


Brennia caught on with the explanation and calmed down within their bond, but visibly still looked rather irked with him for Eva’s sake - even adding an angry sounding, “too far…” at the end before he left. She pretended to listen for his dwindling footsteps before her timbre softened for Eva, “shh, it’s okay. I am sorry for that.” Eva was sniffling and wiping her face before a meek question of, “anything good left in the kitchens?” Trying to peer over Brennia’s shoulder to the food, but she gets easily distracted by the feathers in the avian’s wings and the wonderful scent she always emits. As Brennia gently pulls herself away and gathers the blankets around Eva, the human looked up at her for a long time in the silence… Watching her get food for her, “Professor Smyth… Why are you being so kind?” She almost looked cross up at the avian, “some would call you week for giving me so many chances.” Brennia softly smiled at her while sitting on the side of the bed next to Eva as she thought, ‘it is not about chances, it is about the fact you are no threat.’ Instead Brennia offers kindly, “weak? Some might think that, but in my opinion it would be weak to have given up on you the first time.” Eva snacked hungrily at the food offered as if she was recovering from some fast and through a mouthful of food she asks, “so… It’s true. You think I am great or something.” Brennia quirked a brow, “something like that. I think my words were… Once you realize your own potential and drop things that are not important you will go on to do great things because of this natural talent you have.” Eva had stopped eating and started to actually feel really horrible about the things she has tried to trick Brennia or her love interests into doing only to try to get Brennia to feel as jealous or envious as she does. Deep down Eva looks up to Brennia, but she is still too new and insecure to admit such things… She stares down at the food as she let out a pathetic little, “thanks…” Hopefully that thanks covers rescuing her twice and for the kind words, but Eva is not really good with gratitude as she has always been spoiled. “Evanescenz, tomorrow… Would you please see one of the therapists so you can talk with them about what has happened and start the healing process.” Hopeful blue eyes study Eva’s face as it looked like the young human was debating something in her mind, “I don’t want anyone to know about it…” She seemed angry about it and Brennia assumed that was a no when her expression fell, “I underst-” the avian's words were cut off, “can you just do it? Here? After I feel a little better?” If Brennia wasn’t good at hiding her emotions from her face she would look shocked, but Brennia just half smiles and nods, “of course. There’s a washroom through there,” she points to a door within the room, “a nice hot bath in candlelight.” A motion to the coffee table with the tray, “more food over there and clothes in there,” she points out the beautiful amour on the opposite side of the bed. “Get some rest and we will talk tomorrow, yeah?” Eva nods once and waits for Brennia to leave to continue eating.


Daermon listened in easily along the bond. It was exactly what he had hoped. Perhaps it would be the start the girl would need to finally respect and move past her petty jealousies of Brennia. He moved away from the door so Eva wouldn’t see him lurking outside, yet still waited for Brennia. When she joined with him, he would give her a soft smile. “You’re so nurturing to the little tart. Almost motherly even.” he says, grinning. “As if she hadn’t just moments before been trying to again convince me to bed and turn her.” he amends as they begin the slow walk towards their rooms. His smile left as he thought. “I want you to be exceptionally careful when you are alone with her.” he warns, as both lover and bodyguard. “I feel her rescue was almost...too easy. And for all we know, she agreed to go along just for a chance to stab you in the chest for Vermillion.” he explains. “Just please, be careful. I only just got you back and couldn’t bear losing you like that…” he says softly as he opened the door to their rooms and held it open for her. Mostly because he was a gentleman, partially because he wanted to look at her rear on the way by. “You need anything?” he asks, turning those glacial hues to hers.


Brennia walked arm in arm with her vampire until he mentioned how motherly she was on the tough little human… Still unaware of what Raven showed him she is ignorant to the fact he said he would be willing to have that life with Brennia, but as Raven predicted she is too afraid to ask such a thing of the vampire because having to do that naturally between them would take a lot; possibly too much from the vampire. Her arm slowly dropped from his and she softly agreed, “yeah.” Once in their room, she walks over to the mini bar and pours herself some cabernet wine, “would you like something? I need a drink after all of that.” Her smile returned as she was trying to steer away from the subject of children, but only if he initiated that conversation she wouldn’t protest. After getting him a drink if he took her up on her offer she would take a seat on one of the sofas in their room, “yeah… I was thinking the same thing, but I am pretty sure he is unaware. He could barely keep his mistress contained… He is becoming sloppy and tactless and I think it is because of Orra’s possession.” If he took a seat next to her like he always does she would let her gaze linger on him a long moment to just appreciate him, “you were great…. We make a good team.” She thought back to his monstrous form though, “does it get exhausting? Hiding that side?”


Daermon felt the distance as the arm slipped past. He wasn’t sure he was ready to get into that particular conversation, as they had barely been back together any time, but he wanted to throw something out there, something to make her more at ease with the thought of maybe asking him one day. “I had children once.” he says softly, knowing that might be a surprise to her. “Before I was a vampire of course. They and my wife, were taken. I obviously don’t talk about it much. But I like the idea of having some again maybe. Though I realize it would be a challenge now.” he admits, giving her a lot to think about. “It’s been a long night already, and trying. I too could use a drink, thank you.” he says. “If you want to...you are welcome to ask about that part of my life. When we are alone, private like this, but not tonight. It’s been a hard enough day.” he admits. He moved the conversation to Vermillion with her. “Perhaps he is. Regardless, be careful. For me if not yourself.” he says, a smile playing over his handsome face as he loosened his tie and undid the buttons on his suit jacket, pulling it off and setting it aside before sitting beside her on the couch. “You were equally great.” he replies, much like her, simply appreciating letting his eyes move over her as he sipped his whisky. “And we always did make a good team. I can remember many successful collaborations…” he says, letting the bond momentarily fill with a few saucy and choice memories. Them, them plus more and them again. As she asks her question, he ponders how to answer. “Not as much anymore. When I was a young vampire, yes. You see, the living, they have a million little things they do that you get used to because when you are living, you have always done them.” he says, setting aside his glass and leaning forward. His hands touched the places he spoke of. “Your chest rises and falls with breath. You move smoothly, all at one speed. You shift feet, sigh, blink.” he says touching her cheek. “All the little things that help show you are alive. I don’t need to do any of them. And I move jerky and fast if I use my natural speed. I look like what I am. Unnatural. So over the years, you learn to make yourself do these things, because they make people more comfortable around you. It can be exhausting, but I am used to it by now.” he admits, sitting back.


Brennia stretched her legs to rest over his while they lounged on the couch. "I thought I had a dream about that… I am sorry for your loss, Daermon." A sadness rests between them while her free hand reaches for his and she drinks deeply from her strong wine. His next words about trying to have a family again sort of surprises her and she bashfully stares into her wine glass while wild thoughts fill her mind; she had not seen him in her dreams lately. Was he watching them without letting her know? Is their bond that strong now that he can sense that which had been on her mind? She had no idea he felt this way and she was certain that after he saw her dream that first time it scared him off; that’s why she didn’t see him for a while after. Thinking on how gorgeous those twins were in her dream caused a slight blush a sly smile before she mumbled a reply of, "I like the idea as well." Then she remembered his greying hair in her dream, she had looked into it. It would not be easy for them to have that dream, especially so on him and she frowned slightly, "a great challenge it would be… But at a possibly grave cost." Dark blues meet light blues with a longing sadness deep within them, "I could never ask you to put yourself through that." That would be something he would have to initiate on his own, he knows she wants it, and she wants it with him, but asking that she felt would be too much; too risky - above all, far too selfish and demanding. In attempts to lighten the conversation after an awkward pause she gently clears her throat, "besides, I think we would be skipping a step to be discussing that." A playful smirk slowly turns into a smile, "I would love to hear about the family you had one day…" It was genuine and she even adds, "maybe we can bring flowers to their resting place." Her thumb softly caressed over his hand where she held it, but soon he was showing her how he fakes life for other's comfort, "Daermon… My vampire. You know that you don't have to do that around me. I don’t think anything like that could make me love you any less… If you would like." They have dropped so many walls around each other and opened up too deeply to pretend to be anything other than themselves around the other.


Daermon held her hand as she offered it. “Bren…I know what you want.” he says softly, smiling to her to try to set her more at ease, for he could feel her pulse beating hard, hear her heart. “And I would give it to you. But you are right; we would be missing a step. So know when I say this and commit it to your memory. I love you. Truly. Deeply. I waited years to be yours again. And perhaps it is selfish, but I want it to be just you and I right now, especially while we have such a hectic life. Now that being said, I want what you want. I want marriage. I want a life with you, and yes, even children. I know the risks, I know how hard it will be, and challenging to claim life for myself again, but I would try, for you…no…for us.” he says, squeezing her hand. “I know it seems like we have had enough time, but we have hardly had any. Let’s get you elected, then decide the course we plan. I know that I plan to chart it with you, as long as you’ll have Me.” he assures with another smile. “One day I will take you there, to where they lay.” he says, loving her more for the kind words. “And I know I can be myself. But you wear a mask so long and it becomes your face more than a mask. This is how I look when I am alone even.” he tells her, pressing her hand to his face. “But, if you like that other form…if it gets your blood pounding…” he teases, stroking his thumb over her plump lips. “Then I can wear it for you more often.”


Brennia locked eyes with him when he spoke after she downed the rest on her wine in her glass, but his words hit home with her. Her skin felt aflame and her cheeks were definitely red now while her heart felt as if it were about to break right out of her chest. Sitting up so she may set her empty glass down with a big dimple poking smile on her face and tears were threatening, but happy ones this time and she took a deep, calming breath to try to keep them from falling. She raises a hand up in the silence before fanning her face with it, "I'm sorry." Her elbows rest upon her knees as she let the happy tears fall when her face buried into her palms, "I don't know what just came over me." She sniffles lightly while dabbing her cheeks with the back of her hand because this moment was so sappy and she is entirely overjoyed by it. With him saying everything she has always wanted to hear from him and more she could hardly believe it anymore, "I guess… In my year without you I never thought we could have this again and after a while I just expected to never see you again… Here we are and this is everything I have wanted and it is hard sometimes to not think this is some dream." She chuckled shortly and softly at herself feeling like a fool for crying about something so silly as she was catching more of her happy tears with the back of her hand.


Daermon reached over and with that merciless strength, he pulled her over and around and into him, her face finding a home in his chest as he held her, his hand stroking through her feathers, the other through her hair. “Do not apologize. Please. You can be yourself entirely around me, whether that’s happy tears, sad tears, and screaming fits of rage. I know it was a rough year…or twenty, but we did find our way back to each other. I am not going anywhere again. I am yours and I am back and I am here to make sure you don’t catch a stray knife and leave either.” he whispers, fingers brushing hair behind her ear. “I can’t promise things will be easy, or we won’t fight, but I can promise I will always try to be the man you deserve. And you deserve so much, even if you don’t think so.” Many would find his words sappy, but they didn’t bother him. He knew Brennia did not feel or see herself as much, and his goal was to build her back up. “I love you,” he says softly, nuzzling against her, gripping her feathers a tad tighter.


Brennia couldn't stop smiling down at him as he pulled her to sit over him, her legs against his sides and her arms slip around his shoulders to pull herself into him as well. They held on for dear life, it seems, but this was everything she wanted - especially from him. Her face rested comfortably in the space where his neck meets his shoulder which smothered him in his most favorite scent because of her wings and her hair curving down around him. More kind words and promises brings her to pull back a little and meet his gaze once more, "I love you, too, Daermon Nae'Baer." Her hands gently rested on the sides of his face when she laid one supple kiss on his lips, the smell and taste of wine mixes with his whiskey. Her eyes open back up and she looks far into his own again, it is an intense and quiet moment and with this loving focus she concentrated on subtle, soothing bardic note. She was allowing him to feel his heart beat in tandem of her own to show him how he effects her and if he allowed it would fill him, he might feel his cheeks warm as her's were and how she felt hot all over and the feelings of wings behind him. The feeling intensifies when he runs his hands through those feathers as he would be able to feel exactly how sensitive it was there because even that slight possessive movement caused a gasp to come from Brennia and her eyes to roll just for a moment, but it didn't shake her concentration. After a moment of allowing him to feel how he makes her feel physically she stopped the spell and giggled that rare raspy giggle, "I am sorry, I know you hate magic like that, but I just needed you to feel what I do when you do this to me." She offers a bashful and apologetic smile down to her vampire.


Daermon was smiling with her. To be frank, her like this was perhaps his favorite way. It allowed them to be close, her wings weren’t being smashed and they both got to simply feel the other. As she let out the bardic note, he did not react as he might have in the past. She wasn’t going to hurt him in any way, and he knew it. He trusted her. It was strange, feeling as she did, making him feel alive in the way she was, but not unpleasant. When she was done, and apologizing, he shook his head. “No, it’s alright. You make me feel much the same way. Close like this…you make me feel all kinds of ways.” he teases, knowing she’d get it. “Besides, now I know exactly how you feel when I do this.” he says, and buries both hands into her feathers roughly, pulling her close with them and kissing her deeply. It was the moments like this that made all the rest melt away.


I Never Thought There'd Be You

Summary: Brennia and Daermon finally get a moment to just relax and discuss what is happening between them.

Lyrics from the song linked above.

Smyth Campaign Office


Daermon and Brennia had been going nonstop for quite a while now. Both had taken their new rules enthusiastically, but it was still wearying and that was coming from an undead. Things were going well though. He missed his freedom a bit, for he had always been the sort to come and go as he pleased, to spend nights under the stars and sky, but it was well worth the sacrifice, she was worth it. It was late, or early depending on your view, and Bren was sitting at her favorite desk, still working. Daermon though was ready for a break, to be done for the night, and it was time to exert that promise he’d wrangled from her. He pushed himself to his feet, moving from the chair he’d been occupying for the last few hours to move around behind her. His hands found her form past her wings, his face nuzzling the soft feathers. “Time to call it quits for tonight.” he says, in a tone she would be well used to by now, the one that brooked no argument...though she often fought a little at least. They were the last ones there, as always, so he held no fear of so public a display of his affection for her.


Brennia’s wings react as they usually do and lean into the vampire’s touch, but when liberty blue eyes look up at him they are red and tired, “I’m nearly don-” She slowly blinks a couple times as she could of swore she just saw text scroll over his face when she looked at him and realized he was right, as always. She needs a break. When she stands she links her arm in his during his escort back into the castle, “I, uh… Asked Zachael to set something up for us.” Whenever she mentions the chef Daermon would know that means food and she understands Daermon doesn’t really need it, but she requested something a little special. Once they reached the restricted wing she suggests, “let’s take a moment to relax on the balcony.” Once he obliged and brought them to the door he would open it to find a two person table and chairs set in the sands of the balcony, candles, an enchanted harp in the corner and dinner for two ready to enjoy under the stars. She slips the professional specially made blazer from her shoulders and set it on the back of her own seat before taking it, “I just wanted you to know I appreciate you and the fact you are taking up your time with being min-...” Slip of the tongue there, because actually they haven’t the time to really discuss what was happening between them exactly. “Myyy bodyguard,” she finishes lamely.

The words have been drained from this pencil
Sweet words that I want to give you
And I can't sleep
I need to tell you
Goodnight

Daermon linked his arm with hers, walking beside her in the deserted halls, the clicking of her heels and his booted feet seeming loud in the silence. She had been true to her word, stopping when he’d requested as much and for it, he had given her until he felt the exhaustion heavy upon her each time. Hell, by now, he might know her body better than she did. “That sounds lovely.” he agrees, following her lead out to the balcony that had been so often a constant in their time together at the castle turned college. He pulls her seat out for her, ever the gentleman, and helps tuck it back in as she sits. He takes a moment to undo the buttons on his coat and slips it off as she had, hanging it on the back of his chair and loosening his tie, then rolling his sleeves up. He stayed professional in public, but with the two of them, he often got more comfortable. He sits, finding her hues with his own, both blue, but in different ways. “Just your bodyguard?” he asks, tenting his fingers to rest his face on. The damned man never even had the decency to look tired. “You’re very welcome Bren. I know you appreciate me. I can tell.” he says, touching his head, then his heart, silently indicating their bond.


Their Room

This space of the castle is most private and not many get to see it anymore. This section of marble is covered in a thin layer of black onyx stone accented in gold and platinum, but no spare in opulence. Their own double king size bed centered against a wall sitting up a on a platform with a few steps, build out of dark oak and dressed in burgundy bedding and canopy curtains. This room has it’s own fireplace between it and the large washroom and thick curtains to block out the sun from all of the windows including the stained glass balcony door. A couple of elegantly plush love seats, a coffee table, and a wet bar adorn the opposite end of the room.



Brennia smiles at him, truly, not that fake one she uses in the public (but that one is always convincing enough, Only he could tell though.) She blushes a little bit and starts to nibble at her food as silence grows comfortably between them. “I… Well…” he could probably feel or even see how she got a little nervous, “Daermon.” She had stopped eating and was fixing him with a look of uncertainty, “I’m finding it harder every day to not fall back into that comfortable love we shared. We have seen each other’s struggles with how we handled our end…” She took a moment to sip her wine, “so… I don’t know? Are you just my bodyguard?” Figuratively tossing the ball in his court, then she added a bit quieter, “I’m just scared for either of us to go through that again.”

When we're together, I feel perfect
When I'm pulled away from you, I fall apart
All you say is sacred to me
Your eyes are so blue
I can't look away
As we lay in the stillness
You whisper to me

Daermon had began to eat as well, happily savoring the rich food that was always present in the college. He didn’t see any strawberries though, and would be ordering some when the meal was done. When she spoke, he stopped eating, giving her his full attention as he used a napkin to wipe his mouth. “I know what you mean. It is...very difficult being so close yet there still being that bit of a gap between us.” Glacial hues met hers again. “No Brennia...I am not just your bodyguard. Not unless that is what you want me to be. We aren’t the people that broke up a year ago, not even close. I can’t promise anything, for I cannot tell the future, but I am yours if you want me. Only yours. I’m sure we will disagree and fight, but I will never hurt you like I did before. That I can swear.” he says solemnly, like an oath, his eyes intense, yet, full of that love she was so used to seeing there.

Promise you'll stay with me
Oh you don't have to ask me
You know you're all that I live for
You know I'd die just to hold you
Stay with you
Somehow I'll show you
That you are my night sky
I've always been right behind you
Now I'll always be right beside you

Brennia put her glass down and didn’t dare look away when he swore his oath, “I don’t want you to be just my bodyguard and I do want you. I will only be yours as well.” She said it just as serious he did and didn’t look away, through their bond he would know she’s true. “I just… It’s not fair to you that we would not be able to publically be together just because of our races.” Suddenly losing her appetite she let her fork rest upon her napkin.


Daermon set his down as well, watching her closely. “And that is what you are trying to change. I won’t be much of a help to your campaign in that sense, but it shows you are true to your word. That you mean what you say and even practice it. Love doesn’t know the bonds of race, or kind. I am alright with being your secret as long as necessary to the public, as long as I’m yours when we’re alone like this.” he says, placing his hand on hers, cool as he hadn’t fed from any warm blood, but not uncomfortably cold. “Besides, I’m immortal and you live a looooong time. Change must come to the avian race. And when it does, we can be together in public as well as private.” he squeezed her hand gently.

So many nights I cried myself to sleep
Now that you love me, I love myself
I never thought I would say this
I never thought there'd be
You

Brennia smiled easily again, “so… You are mine?” Why does she even feel nervous after all they’ve been through. She knows they will never be new and exciting again, but in a sense this was new - something different. They aren’t the same and they both know what they want now, “I was a coward before, too afraid to get hurt when I asked for an open relationship. I do want to be only yours now and…” She hesitates, but guises it with sipping her wine, “and that means you would want to only be mine then?” Her deep blues became hopeful, but in the deepest part of her mind she is afraid that same scene might play out where she was so vulnerable to him and he shut her down.


Daermon returned the smile. “Yes Bren. I want to be yours and only yours. Don’t think that I won’t see the occasional woman and wonder what she looks like naked, or be flirty, but yours. I want to come home with you and be with you and sleep and fight and all sorts of things with you. And maybe I want to even pick up other women with you.” he says, clearly teasing, trying to lessen the pain he felt lurking in the back of the bond. “Unless that is something that comes out of your mouth, I am yours and yours alone.” he assures her, giving her the power and control, letting her know that he was different. It wouldn’t stop the thoughts, but no longer would he act on them either. “I know where my heart lies, as it has for so very long.” he tells her, standing and moving to her side. “All you have to do is say yes.” he tells her, reaching down to cup her face, bending, his lips so very close as he waited for an answer that would seal their future.


Brennia does chuckle softly at his playful suggestion. Looking up at him with happy tears rimming her eyelids, “yes, Daermon. And I am yours, only yours to be, sleep, fight and all sorts of things with.” Feeling final and complete (once more) she kisses him as he’s so close to her now and her hands found their way into the short hairs on the nape of his neck. She's never been good at walling off her emotions to him and if she were completely honest she wouldn't ever want to be, so he would feel how happy his words just made her with an overwhelming feeling of joy. She slowly stands while kissing him so she could wrap her arms and wings around him into a tight embrace. His cool skin was always a reprieve to her warm and even though it seems futile she felt if she wrapped those velvety wings around him too that it would warm him. Her head rested on his shoulder while they were still holding each other for a lingering moment, “we are really trying this again? You’re okay with just one? Just me will be enough?” Her questions were not doubt, but she just wanted to make sure this is all he wants.


Daermon doesn’t cry, being far too manly, but it is a near thing. As she draws him close, kissing him, he returns it, holding her even as she stands and wraps arms and wings around him. She felt like an inferno compared to his cool flesh and for a moment, he simply basks in her taste and touch and smell. He holds her as the kiss breaks and she rests her head on his shoulder. “Yes, we are. And yes, I am. You were always enough. I was simply too afraid to admit it.” he tells her, letting his hands move down, caressing her form as he holds it to his own, for it felt right and needed and like everything was where it should be.


Brennia let out a happy and content sigh finding no more words or questions at this sweet moment. The bond spills open with an excited euphoria and happiness, but the feeling becomes shaken as her form leaned more into him. She was exhausted and probably needed sleep as she’s barely able to continue standing there with him. Catching herself she stops and rights herself, “I’m tired, let’s sleep.” Leading the way towards the balcony doors hopefully with him next to her, she would probably easily pass out next to him after asking for him to actually sleep next to her this time. She knows when he stays up to watch over her. Once they fell into a comfortable slumber he would be lead into their shared dreams, which had been somehow blocked off since he was hired into her service, but once he settled into their dream world he would understand why. A dream was played out, they know the one, but unseen and observing was Raven; looking like she had when she was alive. Dark hair, pale milky skin and black wings as she fixed deep green eyes on Brennia’s pathetic dream until she looks up at Dearmon, “Oh, hello incubus… Have a seat.”


Daermon was as happily content as Brennia, though as she seemed to swoon a bit, he was there to hold her. “Of course.” was his reply as he moved with her to the bed which they both desperately needed. The vampire let the bond stay open, both feeling whole, complete and riding the joy of their decision. As sleep claimed them, and a dream soon enough, he found himself facing Raven. He sat, no harm in being polite. “Hello inkblot. I figure if you get to give me a nickname, I shall bestow one to you as well.” He thought the reason they chafed so very hard against each other was because Raven was used to beings fearing her, even Brennia, but Daermon wasn’t afraid. He’d already died several times. He didn’t fear her, or death. He feared regrets. For what else did an immortal have but a long list of regrets that grew longer and longer with the passing years. He was determined not to have Brennia be another one. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” he asks.


Brennia | Raven grimaces with a subtlest of eye rolls at the vampire, “how charming.” Her natural alto timbe sounded bored and tolerant, but she looked upon what Brennia was dreaming about, “not entirely sure if you’ve clued in, but I haven’t been allowing your dreams to bleed together since you came back into the picture… Although, tonight is different, isn’t it?” The woman may lay dormant to Brennia now, but it doesn’t mean she can’t hear anything because she is printed on nearly every inch of the woman. A sigh of boredom while looking at how happy Brennia seemed with a swollen tummy and a couple of brats running about. Dream Daermon comes on the scene and they’ve caught up to where he left the dream last time. He was beaming a smile and the ones that look like him nearly tackle him in hugs and such. When the little icy gazed girl handed Dearmon some flowers from the garden of which he decorated Brennia’s hair in a few before telling them of his latest wild adventure. It’s sickeningly cute, really, but Raven doesn’t look impressed and after a quiet moment of observing, “you should know… She still wants this.” A willowy hand motions to the heartstring pulling scene before them. Deep green eyes set back on the vampire sitting with her, “that seems like a chore.” She says with a determination in her tone and a narrowing of her eyes.


Daermon watched the now familiar scene play out. “I would assume she does, yes.” he agrees as he commits it all to memory. “Interesting that I acquired some grey in my hair apparently when I transitioned to human. Looks good on me.” he says, running a hand through his hair before turning his glacial hues back to Raven. “You don’t like it, then go get your own life. You call me an incubus, a leech, but you are little better. A shadow of a memory in some cursed ink that won't let go. So forgive me if I don’t find your opinion holding much weight. You want me gone, then convince Brennia. If you can pull me, you can pull her as easily. Tell me Raven,” he sneers, smirking. “What right do you have to any claims? You need Brennia. Without her, you’re what...a bottles worth of ink? You ever think that maybe if she was happy, you’d find some happiness too? That maybe your misery is due to the misery inside her? I know a thing or two about symbiotic relationships. Only mine works, supports, cares for me. I can’t even tell if you have any driving force but being a thorn in your vessel's side.”


Brennia | Raven’s glare intensified when he used the word ‘vessel’ #triggered, “so that’s what she is? A vessel? Something pretty to look at? You know… I recall hearing her father use that word toward Brennia’s mother before I bestowed by gift to to Brennia. Without me she’d be nothing. She would have been murdered a long time ago.” The kids are sitting on Daermon’s lap by now trading their stories and talking about how their flying lessons are going. Daermon, sitting next to Brennia, could barely keep his eyes or hands off her and giving her tummy a kiss. Raven sighs frustratingly, “I do need her to be happy. I am making sure this here isn’t going to scare you off because of decision the two of you made tonight… This is it, there is no going back and I am showing you what she will want one day, but will be too afraid to ask.”


Daermon allowed the shock of her words to register on his face. “Not to me. And perhaps not to you either. You’ve always been impossible for me to figure out.” he says, turning his eyes back to the heartwarming scene. “This doesn’t scare me.” he says softly as his madness takes and begins to distort the vision, somehow snatching it from Raven. “It never did. I’ve been married before.” A flash and the scene has changed. A younger Daermon, clearly still human and a shapely and fit woman with brown hair, though her face was a blurred mask. “I’ve had children before.” so soft, so quiet as the vision changes to show two boys, almost the age of the ones from Raven’s vision. “I don’t fear this life...I fear that which can take it away.” and the scene erupted into a haze of red, daggers piercing children, a woman screaming while a man was beaten, cut, nearly killed, forced to watch as all was taken from him. The world shook with the power of his growing madness, of a scream of rage and frustration, of agony so long buried that at times, he could forget it was there, but even three centuries can’t erase something so awful. “No Raven, it will not scare me off. If I can find a way to give it to her...I would.” he vowed, meeting her eyes.


Brennia | Raven looked on at the scene of madness and at this she smirks, “you think Brennia would ever be so weak she couldn’t save herself and the others. If that were her you know she’s trained better than that. One thing she cannot handle again is heartbreak. It would kill her and I know what must be done in that event. If it needs to come to that due to your actions… You better watch your back,” blackness inks over the dream now allowing Raven to disappear, but one has to wonder what that means - exactly. What ever happened to that vial he gave back to Brennia, does she know? Is there some sort of pact she doesn’t know about? Brennia stirs restlessly in her sleep and came to sit on the end of her bed in thought looking distant mentally.


Daermon let Raven go without another word. The funny thing about training. He and his wife had been trained assassins. All the training in the world can’t protect you every time. Not when you had something to lose, something that can be taken, makes you hesitate. He merely lets her go and wakes with Brennia, wondering now if she had seen the same thing Raven had. Or how much she might have. For a moment, pain weighed heavily upon the vampire, for in that other life, so long ago, he thought he had left the pain behind. Evidently not. His madness was drudging up the old and the forgotten, it was making him remember and it was not fun. Slowly, his hand found hers, giving her the chance to shrug away or stay.


Brennia doesn’t say a word and when his hand found her own in the dark she looked down at it until deep blue eyes trail up his muscular arm all the way up to his icy eyes which seemed to illuminate in the dim of their room. A comfortable silence rests between them once more and it is a moment of understanding, but it was still so uncanny how similar their stories were. With love Brennia was afraid to get hurt by someone so mad with power that they kill her family and with family Daermon was afraid to lose it all over again, it seems they are just a couple of cowards in love. Her eyes staying focused on his for she has no need to appreciate his form in her bed because she appreciates his soul and how deeply they’ve connected to one another. A stare in the silence because they don’t need words, they just need each other… Or at least she needs him. Brennia’s hand did move away from his but only to lean on her hands for support in order to scoot herself back into her place; her place next to him. Her hand caressed on his bicep while the other gently ran through his short hair and she laid a soft kiss on the apple of his cheek near his temple as if that would make all of his bad dreams and memories go away. She had so many questions, when did it happen? Where did it happen? Do they have graves we can visit? But the silence at the moment was too golden to break with dragging all of that out, maybe one day he would open up about that naturally. For now she is just there for him and her wings curve adoringly around to comfort him as well as she whispers, “Daermon, I love you.” She attempts to catch his gaze while their faces so close, if he’d turn to look at her their lips would nearly be touching.


Daermon doesn’t speak either. Instead the silence was comfortable and deep, so different from how it had been moments before. His gaze held that soft illumination, a sign of his emotions, or hunger, or both, as he usually kept himself better hidden, even around her, all the little normal things a mortal did. Yes, they were so alike at times it was frightening, and perhaps that was one more reason they had both worked so hard at being apart in the past. Yet as she pulls herself back to him, neither needing to look over the other’s form, though they had stripped before bed, they were stripped to the soul as well. Tonight, no, he wouldn’t speak of it. Not tonight, not to ruin this night with pain, a night where they had found each other again. But a different night, perhaps with a gentle question and a shoulder to lean on, he would tell her the story he had told not a single other soul his entire life. It would be theirs after that, his and hers, and she would share his pain with him. But not this night. As she turns her face towards him, his dips to hers, so close, the heat of her flesh and the cool of his own. “I love you too Brennia.” he says, the name almost strange, as he rarely used the whole thing, but said in a way that practically vibrated with the well of emotions he had for her.


Brennia wanted to make him feel better and the cold touch of his forehead to her’s was replaced by their lips meeting together in passion nearly crushing each other in it as if they have been waiting to kiss that way since the day he came back. Yeah, they probably have been doing some things with each other since she asked him to be a bodyguard, but this was something else as if no one could make her feel this way. She pressed her more pliable curvaceous frame against his smooth and rugged one after shifting all of her hair off to one side, the opposite side he was on. Doing so she caressed over the new scar she asked him to leave on her, the one that marks her as his and her little bird on him marks him as her’s, or she hopes so. Her hungry kisses trails from his lips to his cheek, down his jawline and travels down to his neck before she sits atop him facing his way. Legs on either side of his and her arms and wings close them in from the room around them as if they are in a secret world all their own. She gently guides his face to rest at the soft part of her neck and he would practically hear or feel how fast he was making her heart beat, but she knew what she was doing and how long it has been since he has fed.


Daermon always felt better in the warm embrace of the avian, of his avian. Wrapped in her scent and the feel of her. She was already making him forget his nightmare, his memory, his past. His fingers traced her face as his other hand traced her form. “We need to make sure you start eating a bit more. I’d hate to have you lose your figure…” he teases, smiling to her, the bond flowing with the tease yet filled with the love, the care behind it. She wouldn’t like losing those curves either. The kiss was sudden and hungry then she was straddling him and he had to admit, it was perhaps his most favorite view ever, her astride his form. He knew what she wanted without any more words and as she guided him to that spot, the sound of her heart was the beat of a drum, the smell of her, the taste as his tongue moved along her flesh, along that same spot that would over time grow to be a permanent scar, a spot that claimed her, even if they are the only ones who know it. His lips peeled back, fangs bared as he slowly pressed them into her flesh, her blood so hot and tasty spilling into his mouth, warming him as he drank and savored this connection, his hands moving, one up her thigh, the other up into a wing.


Favored Wing


Daermon woke slowly, as he often did when he was content. In the wilds, waking fast could save your life, but when you were safe, it was ok to be more relaxed. He stretches, his hands touching something soft and he looked up, finding a black wing. The night came rushing pleasantly back and he had to smile softly to himself, stroking fingers through the black feathers, softly, trying not to wake the other in the bed.


Brennia hummed softly as she started to wake and then stretch across the bed until her foot grazed his and it was warm for once. The recollection of the night started to come back to her as well and then she turned her head to see the handsome vampire with her which caused that usual flutter to be felt through their bond. She was still clueless as to what Raven said or showed Daermon, but last night meant a lot to her either way. Attempts to smooth her bed messed hair down and pull the sheet around herself so it clings to those dangerous curves snuggly, but she couldn’t help the subtle smirk as she rolled atop one of her onyx wings to face him with a whisper, “morning.” Wearing nothing but the sheets and his ring on a necklace she fiddles with the object again and sits up so she didn’t assault her familiar lover with morning breath. Deep blue eyes look down at the ring glistening in the dim of their room she asks, “when I asked you to take the ring back if it meant only protection you refused… is it because this means more? Like, love?” Dumb question, we know, but we are going somewhere with this - stay tuned! Her gaze trails from the ring to the man at her side and even though they’ve had each other in so many ways before she still took a long moment to appreciate his scars falling and rising with the valleys and hills of every muscle upon his skin. She knows every inch of the man and maybe he knows her in the same way as well. Eventually deep blues found glacial blues while she awaits his answer with that flirty smirk spread out on plump lips.


Daermon took the opportunity to watch her form as she stretched and woke. He loved the messy bed hair look on her, the way the sheets clung to her form. He hadn’t bothered to cover himself, as he was always comfortable being nude. Stretched on his side as he was, it presented plenty for her to look over as well. “Good morning.” he says, finding it cute that she was concerned with morning breath, but sitting up offered other interesting things to view as well, so he didn’t complain. As she spoke, he slowly started to move, pulling himself lazily upon the bed until his face was pressed into her thigh, his hand lazily caressing her form. “Yes Bren, exactly like love. I worry that I say it so much you are going to tire of hearing it.” he teased softly, tugging the corner of the sheet down to have an unobstructed view. “Why do you ask?” he says softly, turning his eyes back to hers. “Easy with that flirty smile. Gives a man all kinds of ideas…” he threatens fondly, his palm caressing her cheek, thumb moving over those plump lips.


Brennia does smile widely at the validation and there is that flutter again. She let out a rare light and raspy giggle at his teasing while trying to keep her sheet up, “Daermon!” The tease returned with the darkening of her cheeks, especially so when his hand and thumb was caressing her face as if she were the most precious thing in the world to him. “How is it you still do this? You still turn me into some blushing and blubbering school girl after all this time!” She purses her lips together to kiss his thumb before she slipped the large ring on her ring finger, but it is far too big. She tries the middle finger and then thumb, but it was still too big and with a frown she says, “guess it’ll just stay on the necklace.” She says defeatedly before a soft sigh, but shortly after she places a soft kiss on her vampire's forehead as if he means the world to her. Her free hand gently runs through his short hair while a moment of quiet rests between them and their eyes meet. “Excuse me,” she gently pulls herself from him taking the sheet with her and for a moment she paces the floor at the foot of their bed, “before - when we were together, I never explained how important wings are in avian culture because; one you aren’t an avian and two we weren’t only with each other.” Her wings shift and seem to flutter nervously as if preening for him, but also she was a little nervous. The sheet trails behind her long legs and hugs lazily to those dangerous curves now, “as I’ve mentioned to you recently, wings are intimate and dangerous at the same time - avians of my island called them their crown. If you pluck one from someone it’s intent to court or intent to harm given the contributors. If you feel someone’s wings it is very intimate and sensual because they are sensitive, but if you yank one - without permission,” a wink given there, “it hurts really bad…” her own tattooed caramel and tattooed hands find their way into her alluring onyx and velvety wings until she finds one of the larger and pristine feathers to pull it free. “It will probably seem odd and sort of stupid to you,” she lets out a soft and short self-depreciating chuckle. “But this is the only thing that means almost as much as this ring meant to you.” She holds out the feather by the quill and the fist holding up her sheet adjusts over her heart as she sort of bowed before her vampire, “I offer this, a piece of my crown, to you as you hold my heart. Do you accept?” Her head stays bowed to him until he would take the feather.


Daermon grins like the wicked charmer he is at her exclamation. He loved when she giggle squealed his name like that. “What can I say? I’m just talented I suppose.” he says as she slowly moves away, trying the ring on different fingers. He holds his hand out to her before she was time to slip it back on the necklace. “Let me see it.” if she gave it to him, he’d fold his hands around it, the shadows in the room flickering and drawing towards the vampire as his hands darkened, clearing working magic, but not just magic, as his arms were bulging, muscles taut, as though he was exerting great pressure and force onto the ring. He was done as quickly as he’d started, handing back the same ring, though it was subtly different. It was a tad more feminine now, and much smaller. “It won’t be an exact fit, as I am not that skilled, but it should fit one of your fingers.” he remarks before she moves to pace. He rolls onto his back, head hanging off the bed upside down as she paces past. He tries to catch the trailing sheet, for he much preferred her without it. He was being half hearted about it though, as he kept missing. When she starts to speak, he rolls over and sits up on the end, listening intently to her words. “Nothing that is important to you is stupid to me.” he says softly, reaching out to take the offered feather. His free hand couldn’t resist scrubbing through her hair, her head being bowed and all. He caressed the feather along his rough cheek, inhaling the scent. “Can you make it so it always smells of you?” he asks, which some might find queer, but scents were a strong trigger for him. “If not, I might need a new one when it doesn’t smell of you anymore.” he says softly, running his fingers along the soft edge. The challenge would be finding a secure way to carry the precious gift. If she was still bowing and before him, his hands would reach down and caress her wings, burying fingers into the softness as one might someone's hair. It was intimate, and possessive.


Brennia let out another giggle at his request, “of course, but until this election thing is over you can just have the real thing whenever you want seeing as you’ve been employed as my bodyguard.” She wonders if it is torture for him as it is her that when they are in public they are so close yet so far all the time. Spanning the wings out for him, he would see those subtle hues of navy blue and forest green within the onyx color of them, how naturally hypnotic they are. She kneels before him now as his different caress through her wings made it hard to not tremble. Once she did she tried the ring on that ring finger again, but that was a stretch and it didn’t fit - still. She tried the middle finger, close enough and she took the necklace off to keep it that way. Deep blue eyes look up at him with a soft smile on her lips when she stood before him once more so she was looking down at him again and it was her turn to caress his cheek with the warmth of her hand, “mine.” She leaned down to plant a passionate and loving kiss on Dearmon, her vampire’s, lips and that usual hunger woven within their bond.


Daermon smiled with her. “I figured, but I didn’t know if you wanted to be plucking feathers for me that potentially often. I’m curious to see how long it will hold your fragrance.” He caught the slight tremble as he caressed her in that very overt way. “Did you like the way that felt?” he whispers, knowing the answer. He watched her try the ring on, finding it would fit her middle. This time as she stood, his foot moved onto a piece of the sheet, trapping it as she rose and revealing her form. “Yours.” he agrees as she kisses him, hard and fast, the hunger filling them both and the bond. ‘MINE.’ he returns as one hand found her rear, the other buried against her wing.