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Indigo Pelacour

"Ladies and gents, the show's just begun!"

0 · 639 views · located in The Manor

a character in “Mon Coeur”, as played by Miss Echo

Description

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[center][img]http://orig06.deviantart.net/440b/f/2016/171/e/e/ipb_by_pieluver233-da708zc.png[/img][/center][left][img]http://t14.deviantart.net/KqWJxXR-a6-ks-EWaWmQp_urIdU=/fit-in/150x150/filters:no_upscale():origin()/pre08/3b3c/th/pre/f/2016/170/c/7/indigoleft_by_pieluver233-da6wjp3.png[/img][/left][right][img]http://t08.deviantart.net/7Ip7eg4_htuKiixCt54FNGkk0QA=/fit-in/150x150/filters:no_upscale():origin()/pre14/a8cb/th/pre/f/2016/170/9/d/indigoright_by_pieluver233-da6wjp7.png[/img][/right][center][font=didot][color=#4B0082]【"AWW GEEZE, HERE'S A QUOTE"】
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【WHERE TF ARE YOU?】
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【#4B0082】
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[justify][font=helvetica][color=#151B54]Do your best! :D I believe in you!.[/color][/font][/justify]




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"A willful soul is the fruit of life."




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Role
Human Two

Age
19

Gender
Female

Nicknames
Indie, The Great and Marvelous Indigo, the Pelacour Witch, Twin Devil, Owl


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”I don’t have forever, you know. Actually, I do. Little joke there.”



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【Theatrical】 【Stubborn】 【Vindictive】 【Shrewd】

At first glance, Indigo seems like a perfect plaything for the head of the house- bold, airheaded, and a tad...grating at times. Her ego seems to be nearly as large as the mansion itself, with her constantly thinking up new, rather lengthy nicknames for herself, or showing off by doing the most mundane things decently. She acts overly-familiar with most of her fellow pets- to the point of clinging to the ones that quite clearly hate her, and happily chattering in their ears until they manage to pry her off and book it.

The Second Human appears to stuck in a near-constant state of unadulterated glee. One could easily believe that she’s grown acceptant of the situation, or has just lived with Sabine long enough to have lost a few cards of the deck. This is only reinforced by the fact that Indigo has become somewhat unfazed by things such as mortal injury over the years- to the point where, in the case of a torn limb or split belly, she will often make jokes and laugh while keeping herself from falling apart completely. In the face of Sabine’s rage, she will even spur the demon on somewhat, grinning and lazing about during his fits.
Indigo gets torn apart a lot.

There is a sort of feral nature that continues to cling to Indigo, as well. In spite of the lavish surroundings and pampering that the copperhead has come upon, she remains much like an unwilling beast dragged from its lair. One would be hard pressed to find her sitting still, or without some snide, half-hidden comment on her tongue. She hardly bothers herself with subtle barbs and insults, and doesn’t seem bothered by them as well. Hers is a more blunt approach, with fairly obvious mockeries and sarcasm being her weapons of choice. Indigo has a habit of stealing bits and baubles from several other pets, or playing petty pranks when she has the time to do so.

With all things said, in spite of her general ditzy and eccentric behavior, Indie is, at the end of the day, a woman reaching the five hundred year mark of her life, and shows signs of stronger intelligence than she lets on. When left to her own devices, Indigo will often hole herself up in the library with various scientific and political novels of the era, a pocketbook at hand as she meticulously takes notes on the progress that each year brings. She slips away from the manor and into the town in times where Sabine’s focus is turned away, and, quite notably, focuses more of her irksome habits on the pets wrapped securely around the demon’s finger than others. Of course, if this is brought to attention, Indigo will immediately brush the accusation off, telling the person they’re imagining things before returning to her usual spiels.

In addition to this, while Indigo is sickeningly amiable and talkative for the most part, there are times where her friendliness becomes more...genuine. Around some of the less attached pets, she can become fairly tolerable- speaking less erratically, and more like a regular- if not somewhat lighthearted and sarcastic- person instead of Sabine 2.0.. She’ll offer to teach some of the younger residents skills that they would have otherwise had to turn to their captor for, provide advice and support, and spend time with them if allowed. It’s not uncommon for her to invite a few other pets to go drinking with her, or even on a walk around the grounds. It’s during these times that Indigo is more open to real conversation, instead of bouncing around the topic to amuse herself.

At the root of it, the woman despises her situation. She resents Sabine, and dislikes the pets at his side under the belief that they’ve let themselves forget that there’s more in the world than being a demon’s toy. Indigo is sick of being kept under Sabine’s thumb, and desires nothing more than freedom or death itself- but, at the same time, is well aware of the factors keeping her trapped there with him. It’s a combination of optimism and pure determination that’s driving her to seek a way out, and the years of watching Sabine’s decline into madness that keeps her on the plan.

However, there is a problem- while Indigo is attempting to exploit Sabine’s absent minded nature and favoritism, hoping to make the demon forget her, her pride provides a considerable hurdle towards her goal. By keeping her nose clean, playing along with Sabine when necessary, and generally keeping to the walls, Indigo is convinced that she would be able to place herself into the very back of the other’s mind- but, at the same time, the Second wants to keep her identity instead of becoming yet another faceless belonging, and finds it difficult to swallow her dignity at times. For every time she allows herself to be cradled and fed by Sabine, Indigo escapes the manor to enjoy the company of the townspeople. For every time she slips from the notice of her sire, she manages to swiftly gather the attention of her fellow pets. It’s an uneven, lopsided balance Indigo is attempting to find, and a balance that often causes her to provide rather mixed signals.


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"Of course I'm great. I'm me. What else do you expect?"


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Appearance

In spite of the fact that, by the time of her preservation, Indigo had already crossed the bridge into proper womanhood, she lacks several of the traits that one would expect a lady of her age to exhibit. Standing at about 5’4”, Indie has little in the ways of curves- possessing more of a slim, petite figure than the classic hourglass. Her features are sweet, earnest, skin paled through a combination of genetics and life with little exposure to sunlight. While such traits in themselves would typically hint at a more delicate nature, they are- for the most part- easily overlooked in the face of her others. Indigo is the proud owner of fluffy, deep red locks, hacked into a sloppy bob that barely reaches her chin. Her eyes are a rusty color, and often dance with a fierce, chaotic light- the eyes of a wild animal. On top of all that, the Second has a tendency to wear a grin that can be described as “crooked”- or, less gently, “shit eating”. Altogether, Indigo often appears as if she knows something that others do not, or is up to something that will most likely result in someone having a very, very bad day. There are occasions when she will take on a more serious, matured look- although such occasions are very, very few in number.

While she does have a smaller form than others, Indigo isn’t completely scrawny or frail. There is a decent amount of muscle throughout her body, albeit mostly centered around her legs and arms- built up through a life of preparing batter, tussling with boys in her younger years, and general necessity for survival. Her hands lack the callous that would naturally come with most of her activities through Sabine’s blood, although Indie isn’t entirely too pleased about this. Most of her scars have also faded through the odd healing power of the demon, although her mouth tends to be reddened by frequent rubbing.


Attire

Oddly enough, while the woman herself almost never acts with proper femininity, her wardrobe is stocked well with the gowns fit for this period. Granted, many of them are fairly casual in nature- consisting of flowing, comfortable fabrics instead of anything particularly luxurious- but are still well-tailored and made with rich materials. Indigo cycles between several different color schemes over sticking to one in particular, and will change “themes” to her whims. Given the fact that Indigo rarely goes to Sabine for favors, it’s fairly obvious that she “borrows” from her other pets and “forgets” to return them, although, when confronted, she will deny that they ever belonged to someone else...albeit with very transparent lies. Indigo doesn’t wear much jewelry, and doesn’t bother herself with learning how to apply makeup, which implies that she wears most of her clothes for comfort’s sake than not.

There is a constant among her fashions, however- her trilby. Instead of wearing whatever bonnet or hair decoration that might look best matching with her outfits, she will always wear the same battered old trilby, cocked at a near-impossible angle on her head. When questioned on how she manages to keep it from falling off, Indigo will cheekily reply that it’s magic before wandering off to somewhere else in the manor, hat still perched perfectly where it is. Indigo has a habit of sticking a colored feather in it as decoration, but there’s always, without fail, a copper penny gleaming from the ribbon.

On the occasion that goes out to town, Indigo will opt out of the common fineries for the era- instead choosing to bind her chest and dress in the sloppy wear of a lowly peasant boy. The hat stays, of course.

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"If you don't got something to live for, then you ain't anything special."



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Likes

【Her Hat】 ▬▬▬ Indigo’s trademark trilby is, by far, her most prized belonging. Having saved up to purchase it herself, and without the assistance or interference of Sabine, she treasures it as if it were gold.

【Children】 ▬▬▬ In some distant time, Indigo had desired a little family of her own. The maternal instinct has never really faded, and when confronted with a young child, she will often stop to play and interact with them.

【Autumn】 ▬▬▬ Indigo has always loved the fall, and the vibrancy that comes with it. Her attachment is, admittedly, partly based around sentimental reasons- although that does not change her love of the season in the slightest.

【Drinks】 ▬▬▬ Not limited to just fine wines and liquors, Indigo boldly declares herself a connoisseur of general drink rather than cuisine. Coffees, teas, juices- if it exists in liquid form, Indigo has most likely sought to try a glass of it.


Hobbies

【Penny Sucking】 ▬▬▬ An odd habit, Ms. Pelacour has a tendency to keep a copper penny at hand to- put simply- suck on. It’s rare to see her without a coin set comfortably between her lips, and even rarer to find her without one at all- Indigo keeps the penny in her hat exclusively for this purpose.

【Jogging】 ▬▬▬ Indigo is a restless soul by nature- something only made worse by being cooped up in the area for too long. As such, she will often be found dashing about the manor grounds like the devil himself is at her heels- or obsessively pacing the halls when the actual demon is wandering her route.

【Baking】 ▬▬▬ A skill that Indigo learned in her youth, she has never truly lost the knack or enjoyment of baking. She greatly enjoys making pastries to either sell or eat herself, and will often be found pounding away at a mound of dough when upset or angry.

【Reading/Writing】 ▬▬▬ While she had never had much interest in literature before she was “turned”, Indigo picked up the skill and hobby in honor of her late father. She has a preference for newspapers and scientific journals relating to the current era, but it’s not unheard of for her to look into historical documents or the occasional fiction here and there. She’s also seen frequently scribbling in a pocketbook or on a scrap of paper, although Indie keeps these well hidden once finished.


Dislikes

【Sabine】 ▬▬▬ Somewhat to be expected, but Indigo still very much sees the demon as the root of her current problems. She resents him for stealing her life away from her, and hiding her from reality for so long.

【Reliance】 ▬▬▬ While the period Indie was born in held a strong view of women being a purely dependent and humble gender, the lack of funds, male children, and a motherly figure in the Pelacour family often meant that the firstborn rolled up her sleeves to work alongside her father in both domestic and business affairs. This independence only grew during the later years of being a pet, when there were only three roaming Sabine’s household- and only one began to develop a distaste for the demon. Indigo prefers to handle problems herself, and will only (begrudgingly) allow someone else to help if absolutely necessary.

【Mushrooms】 ▬▬▬ They taste...odd. And they grow from dead things. That is enough of a reason to find them disgusting- or so goes Indigo’s logic.


Fears

【Submission】 ▬▬▬ While she does her best to deny it, Indigo is completely and utterly terrified that, one day, she will end up resigning herself to her fate- becoming little more than Sabine’s lapdog for the rest of eternity.

【Forgetting】 ▬▬▬ Having been with Sabine for long enough to see his steady mental decline, Indigo has also been witness to the demon’s slow loss of memory. She’s paranoid that, one day, her own recollection of the past will fade as well, and she will no longer be able to remember the family that she had loved so dearly. Indie has kept many diaries over the years, with each one carefully hidden away no matter how many times they move.

【Muteness】 ▬▬▬ A combination of primal fear, the belief that her voice is one of her most powerful tools, and the familiarity that comes with her own words, Indigo is terrified of the idea of being rendered mute in one way or another. Upon being taken in as a pet, Indigo has had several nightmares of her lips being sewn together.


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“Real nice place we’re in. Real nice. Sort of makes you forget it’s still a cage, huh?”



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The Before

The Pelacours were never a notable family of any kind. They did not have the earnings necessary to gain the attention of more respectable folk, but they had enough not to warrant any sympathy. They were gentle, god-fearing folk who kept their noses clean, and stuck to the walls. The only things that were particularly interesting about them was their bakery, and, less prominently, an inherent fascination with the pursuit of knowledge. Apart from a few struggles here and there, the family lived a peaceful existence, and they would have never wished it any other way. However, things began to change when the heir of the business married the daughter of a military lineage, and brought children into the world.

They were twins, glued at the hip since birth. Indigo was the eldest by a few minutes- something she would lord over her brother throughout their lives- and, while fraternal, the two were practically one and the same. Same copper hair, same lanky build, and, while different colors, same untamed light in their eyes. Combined with their deep-running streaks of mischief, the two were, understandably, a bit of a handful for their parents. The neighbors were even less forgiving, suspecting that the Prince of Darkness himself had laid with Mrs. Pelacour and left her fat with child. “Twin Devils”, they were called, and, to Indigo, with all of her unfeminine behavior, was dubbed a witch. The siblings hardly minded this, however, their natures only being fed by each other’s company.

They were just about to hit the big 13, the unlucky number of ye old wives’ tales, when the family’s number rose by one- only to fall back not too long after. A baby, a little girl, had been born, but at the cost of their mother’s life. While understandably torn by the loss, both siblings and their father did not resent little Caroline. The pain eventually faded with time, but the twins were soon struck harder with reality than they had before. With added responsibility. Without their mother’s guidance and help, they found themselves working continuously around home, at the bakery, and spending less time raising hell around the neighborhood. The twins’ thoughts turned from fantasies of becoming actors or explorers or rulers, became grounded, and, while still close, began to go their separate ways in life.

For the most part, Indigo found herself seated with increasingly domestic tasks. Take care of the little one, clean up the messes around the house, tend the garden. Help with the baking, when needed. Although she continued to hold that same spark from her childhood, Indigo had begun to outgrow her old ways. Her personality wasn’t the only thing that changed, either- androgynous features melting away into something more pleasant. Fair. She wore dresses instead of borrowing from her brother’s closet, and grew her hair out from its previous boyish cut. These changes led to the occasional suitor dropping by- one in particular being Lucas, a young man who the twins would tussle with over territory as children.

Amused by this, Indigo agreed to let Lucas court her, and soon found herself falling for her old rival. The feeling was mutual, and, as young, lovesick couples are prone to do, the pair began to plan out their future together. Marriage, children, growing old together. Lucas would inherit his father’s land when he died, and they could move in together into the old house...they could easily sustain themselves on selling crops and raising livestock....they’d have a little boy and a girl, or maybe more...Much to their delight, both families were supportive of their union, and a date was set. Even Percival, who had been in schooling (it had taken some time, but the twins’ father had managed to scrape up enough money to pay to educate his son) came back home, so as to not miss the wedding.

The Twin Devils had finally been tamed, but Indigo was happy.

At least, for a while.

A month before the wedding, a visitor came to town. Thin and long-fingered, it swept through the streets, knocking on the doors of the rich and poor alike. It embraced all with peeling arms, and, greedy, took many in the night. It was sickness, and, in spite of all the prayers that it would pass them by, greeted a member of the Pelacour family.

Percival.

It didn’t take long. Priests were gathered, doctors brought in to perform their strange and rudimentary acts, but there was nothing that could be done. After weeks of fighting against the illness, the middle child, the boy who once dreamed of fame and fortune with his sister, passed away.

While all of the family grieved, Indigo was hit especially hard. While they were not as similar as they were in their youth, the two had still been as thick as thieves. They wrote to one another regularly, and Indigo had even asked Percival to be the godfather of her first child. The two shared a bond. After the funeral, the remaining twin- sick of the redundant, near-identical words of sympathy from strangers- escaped into town to drown her sorrows. It was when Indigo was stumbling through town, drunk on ale and grief, that Sabine found her. With the demon’s gentle words and listening ear, as well as her own hazy judgement, Indigo babbled out everything. Her rage at how unfair the world had been. Her fear of the illness that was still prowling through town. Her sorrows, her lamentations..;everything. From there, the dam had been broken- Indie rambled on and on about all her problems and insecurities and worries to this kind stranger, words slurring into a scrambled mess with each passing minute.

In later years, Indigo would put a good part of the blame on Sabine for her new state, as well as herself. If she had just stayed at the church, or drank a little less, or even kept her damn mouth shut, then maybe Sabine would have never found her. Never became interested, or felt that he was “saving” her. No matter her regrets, however, it happened nonetheless. She was led away by the demon with the offer of “speaking more over drinks”- an offer which Indigo was happy to accept. She was far too intoxicated to notice Sabine slitting his thumb and slipping his cursed blood into her cup, and, by the time its effects had begun to kick in, she had long been unconscious.



The After

When Indigo first awoke and realized who, exactly, had found her, she did not immediately react with hostility or hate. In fact, she was afraid. Her religious upbringing had beat into her the concept of hell and the devil, and Indigo jumped to the conclusion that she must have died. Must have staggered off a cliff and snapped her neck, then wound up in hell. In a panic, she tried repeatedly to remember what sin she had committed before her “death” that had landed her in the demon’s’ clutches. She prayed to her god for an answer, for forgiveness, to save her immortal soul- but no reply came.

It was during this period of fear and self-loathing that she was at the meekest she would ever be around Sabine and her fellow pet, the First. While she would attempt to escape, off herself, and, when those options failed, hide in the nooks and crannies of the house, she put up little rebellion otherwise. The redhead would dutifully attend meals and feedings, let Sabine pamper her, and remained still during cuddles and fussing- aside from a bit of flinching, that is. After a few years, Indigo even asked her company to teach her how to read and write, and, from then on, would sit about quietly with her nose in a book.

Many years passed like this before Indigo truly snapped out of it- so many, in fact, that Sabine had already found the Third. On the celebration of her 80th birthday, after the festivity and the presents had been taken care of, she passed by a mirror and caught sight of her reflection. Instead of a withered old woman staring back at her, it was still...her. As young and fresh-faced as she had been that fateful day, when she was just a bride-to-be facing another tragedy. It was then that the reality of the situation truly hit her. Indigo should have been dead, or at the very least dying. Her father, Caroline- even Lucas, her sweetheart. They were all probably dead by now, too. With a sort of dreamlike calmness, Indigo found herself realizing that her father had lost two children in one day, and then began to wonder how long it took for all of them to stop looking for her. To get over it. To forget.

Indigo realized that this was still reality, and that no god would save her. She was on her own, and the demon filth was the one responsible for it. With a steadily rising anger, she discovered a knife, and, recalling Sabine’s attachment to hair, hacked her own into the same short length she had had as a child. Later, when discovered, she would merely state that she had been wanting a new look, but that was a blatant lie. It was her first act of rebellion.

She began to revert to her old ways. She began to speak more and more, with increasing boldness. Indigo continued to rebel against Sabine, and began to steal from both the demon and pets alike. She lied openly behind grins and sarcasm, and retaliated whenever possible. Petty gestures and pranks became her bread and butter, and, steadily, Indigo began to fight tooth and nail for some degree of independence. Several such measures (which Indigo is quite proud of) include forcing the household to move by stoking suspicion in townsfolk, selling breads and pastries to pay for herself, and several other things. Interestingly enough, Indigo also delved even deeper into her readings, and would occasionally hole herself into the library for days at a time.

Some time after Four and Five were brought into the household, Indigo’s methods changed yet again. While she didn’t lose her rebellious streak, she appeared to settle somewhat. Indigo still carries many of her less favorable traits, but she has gone back to allowing Sabine to do some things without fighting. Some things, but not all. She even picked up writing, although besides a few pages of meaningless gibber-jabber and horribly written stories about the Queen of England, she hasn’t shared much. However, Indigo’s main goal hasn’t changed. It goes under many names, many phrases, but it is always her primary objective.

Escape.



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"My dear, blind friend."

【 ♥ 】x ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌
【☺ 】x▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌
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"Saying this with all o' the heart I have, but Nick. Is a massive prick. Guy's watched several pets get plucked right outta their lives, been 'round as long- longer, really- as I have, and he's still hopelessly in love with Beez! Either I got hit upside the head with a brick the other day, or that doesn't really, eh, add up? Sure, he's a good guy. Kept me from losin' most of my marbles back when I was a teensy lil' thing, but. There ain't anything wrong with just wanting to punch him off the roof sometimes, right?"

Although Indigo does her best to keep a fair distance between herself and the other pets, Nicholas is somewhat of an exception. In the first seventy years of her "rebirth", a staunchly religious, rather terrified Indie had only the company of a particularly clingy demon, and a human-turned-immortal like herself. With little other option, she immediately sought companionship from the one person that didn't crawl out of hell. Of course, in recent times, Indigo has grown far more independent (and far more resentful of Sabine and his followers), but some of her attachment to Nick remains. While it may be a futile effort, she continues to make attempts to convince the First that the resident demon is nothing close to a "savior", and of the grimness of their situation. However, as time passes, so does Indigo's optimism of making any lasting effect.




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"I don't claim to be a hero."

【 ♥ 】x ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌
【☺ 】x▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌
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"Eh, me? Hell, I'm awesome! Great and marvelous Indie here, yeah? Sure, I'm getting a little up there in years, but I still haven't lost any of my spunk. Achievement of the bloody century, if I do see myself. Plus, have you seen me juggle? And bake? Can't see nothing not to be proud of in this one."

Through the years that Indigo has been alive, she has gotten to know herself very well- too well, in her opinion. She's developed a deep-seated hatred of herself, blaming herself partly for her capture, and believing herself to be weak and childish. She despises who she has become, and is acutely aware of her...less than stable mentality. However, she does her best not to wallow in self-pity through this, clinging to her hope of escape with desperate determination.




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"Boot licker."

【 ♥ 】x ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌
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"Aw, Nat? Hell, she's a real good friend o' mine. Us reds gotta stick together, amiright? Gotten to know 'er real well over the years, and let me just say. We're tight, see? Way fingers are when you wrap 'em round each other, like this- look. Tight, yeah?"

If there's anyone that Indigo hates more than herself and Sabine within the house, it would have to be Natalia. Throughout the years that they have resided at the manor, the other woman has proved time and time again that she's little more than what Indigo would so tastefully call a "boot-licking bitch". She goes far beyond the simple adoration of the demon that others have, and instead does her best to taunt and jeer at the other pets. Attempting to kick them to the ground, for no other reason than the fact that Sabine is interested in them. While less affected than the harassment than others, and hardly attached to her fellow pets, Indigo harbors a certain resentment towards Natalia for what she sees as pointless cruelty.
Not that she would let that on, of course. To Natalia, Indigo is friendly to an obnoxious extent.




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"You need to see the bigger picture."

【 ♥ 】x ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ ▌
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"Shorty! Been keeping an eye on the kid for a while now, and I gotta say- never expected the guy to go on this long with the whole 'I'm such a victim waaah pity me and the stick up my ass' deal. Kinda impressive, if you ask me. Kind of reminds me of me back when I was still hangin' round in Nick's shadow. Look, I won't deny that the kid has potential. Hell, once he wises up, I'll pro'lly pull him aside for a bit of a talk. But for now, 'm just gonna have to wait an' see."

Indigo has a fair deal of intrigue in Lonan- or, more specifically, the blackbird's general attitude. Although he makes a defined effort to keep himself an ambiguous player in the mansion, she keeps tabs on him when possible, seeing the potential of an ally in Lonan. However, her views of the ex-messenger aren't entirely positive. Indigo sees him as a defeatist, brooding, taking little initiative, and unwittingly playing right into Sabine's palms. This leads to a bit of a contradiction in her actions, as she will simultaneously make an effort to coax him from his shell and give the occasional snide commentary.




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"A bitter, cold woman. But I can trust that well enough."

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"Ah, Immy girl! Let me tell you right now- the gal is a total bitch. Not the type of bitch that a certain-noblelady-who-shan't-be-named is, but, y'know. The kind of bitch you really wanna stab in the gut, and then take a trip to the bar with. In either order, I'm not picky, but- you get what I mean, yeah?"

In Imogen, Indigo sees a kindred spirit of sorts. While unaware of the specifics of the younger pet's past, the hatred of their captor, the situation he put them in, and the determination to escape are all things Indigo understands quite well. As such, she views Imogen as the most likely candidate to bring into her plans- although this does mean that she gives the other any special treatment when it comes to her heckling.




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"Despite lying at Sabine's heels, he's pleasant enough."

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"Dami, Dami, Dami. Gayest fella this side o' England- and this is after knowing Beez, mind you. Can hold liquor like a champ, though, and he doesn't go strutting around acting like he's better than ya. He struts around like he's hot shit. Big difference, big difference. Kinda grating with his whole fawning over Beez...and, the whole, you know. Teaching the fella to stick his hand down my bloody trousers like he's trying to find gold down 'ere. Can't he make 'em keep that crap to 'imself? But, eh, reasonable enough when he's not getting that along."

While Indigo tends to dislike those more trusting of the demon on principle, Damien has earned a level of respect in her nonetheless. He carries a certain spunk in him that the elder enjoys, and, despite having encountered her when intoxicated, he merely listened instead of using her words against her. As such, she is not openly antagonistic as she is with Three, or competely indifferent, like with Seven. Indigo hopes that the man can be persuaded to see Sabine for what he truly is, but as of now, she is willing to let him be well enough...although, admittedly, she is a tad annoyed about his mannerisms being passed onto their host.
At least she finds Dami's flamboyance really, really funny to watch.




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"Too predictable, and too stubborn."

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"Eh, Mad? I don't know the gal too much, but what I do know is that she's head over heels for ol' Beez. Kinda surprised me, since she wasn't bleeding her brains out when he found her or anything like that, but I guess it's like some kinda 'storybook come true' sorta deal for her. But who can say but the gal herself? 'Side from that...lady is way too snoopy, for my tastes. Doesn't ask much, but when she does, damn does she ask. Not a good game to play 'round here, if you ask me. Would'a been playing it longer ago if it wasn't."

Indigo has hardly any interest in the Seventh, and tends to leave her well enough alone when possible. To her, there is nothing that Madison can offer- while her observational skills are noteworthy, the combination of her attachment to Sabine, and refusal to see the creature for what he truly is, means that getting anything out of the girl is unlikely. The fact that Madison is also such a withdrawn girl means that Indigo doesn't go out of her way to pester her, either, like she does with Natalia. As such, Indigo simply doesn't bother with seeking her out on most days, letting the other pet be. There is, however, another factor in her lack of desire to speak with Madison. While she denies it, Indigo sees in Madison a reflection of what she could be; completely submissive to Sabine, with all of the fire snuffed out.
It bothers her somewhat.




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"Interesting fellow."

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"I'll be honest here- when Blondie first came into the picture, I thought he was gonna just end up like all of the other bootlickers Beez keeps around. Kind of just, well, sat around and wrote and looked mopey. Imagine my surprise when he didn't go belly-up, and actually started going pissy on people! 'Course, I wanted to see what was happening in that head of his, and I think things are going nicely on that front- if I do say so myself."

Aedan had already earned Indigo's interest during his first signs of resistance toward his captor- especially seeing as the circumstances of both his and Nick's "rescue" were so similar. Her curiosity only grew upon watching his outbursts from afar, and, deciding that the youngest pet could be of some use, she approached. Indigo enjoys the other's company for reasons other than this, of course- the man is rather clever, after all, and an obedient student in their baking lessons together- but her main priority of bringing him around to her side of seeing things remains.



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"There's a lot of stuff on demons out there, and apparently not all of it is right, if ol' Beez isn't lying to me. Beez. Beelzebub, the demon of gluttony. Don't regret giving him that nick, though; a perfect match, seeing how he's such a hoggish cunt."

Indigo despises Sabine with every fiber of her being. While she understands that the demon has saved several of the pets from a life worse than this, years of living with him have led her to believe that he's little more than a self-serving being at heart- driven by greed first and foremost, and using noble pretenses to justify his own actions after. In truth, a majority of Indigo's hatred lies in the fact that Sabine so easily ripped her future away from her; he stole her from her family, rendered her sterile, has kept her captive for centuries, and yet, he continues to see nothing wrong with what he has done. In her eyes, Indigo sees little reason to like or appreciate Sabine...although, in spite of herself, hints of Stockholm Syndrome have settled in the back of her mind.


So begins...

Indigo Pelacour's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury Character Portrait: Aedan Huntington
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【"A new day, a new way to say hello!"】
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【Various Locations】
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【#E31230】
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The silence descended over the house like a spring shower, suddenly muting the usually boisterous demon and sending his companions skittering into their corners to occupy themselves without fear of intrusion. In the year since they took over this abandoned sprawl of land all the humans had settled back down, claiming their territory and making themselves at home in the old husk of a building. In the last few months it had grown a bit homier, a little more lived in, and anyone who so chose could disappear into the woodwork of the tangled hive of halls in the languid structure.

Sabine brooded like this frequently these days. It was undoubtedly better than the alternative, but the fits of catatonia tended to deeply affect the mood of the house. At times like this, the demon could sit, staring vacantly into the middle distance as if reliving memories, almost entirely unaware of his surroundings. These slow states were good for a good hair-brushing session, some reading, or a long cuddle, if one as willing to tolerate the iron grip of the demon for a few hours until an opportunity for escape made itself momentarily available or Sabine woke back up.

So the humans had nearly a week to do as they pleased, as long as they didn’t draw too close to the blank-eyed creature slumped over in an armchair in the library. The book he’d been trying to read before the mood hit him lay face down on the floor below him, still open to the last page he’d read before it slid from his suddenly nonexistent grip.

In the early evening on that warm, lazy spring day, however, the lanky figure started, suddenly sitting straight again. He blinked twice, looking around as if he couldn’t figure out how he’d ended up in this place. Slowly, like a man on stilts, he rose and wandered down the halls to his rooms, located at the heart of the winged manor. Thin fingers tugged through his mussed golden curls as he tried to remember which century he currently existed in. Where were they, exactly? The memories dribbled like sludge through his mind, out of reach for a few desperate moments.

While he did not need to sleep, the humans did, and as the hour grew later, he sensed sleep settle over the manor, along with that strange urge to hold his breath to remain perfectly quiet. He could not sleep, though, as much as he would like to. He couldn’t. Not anymore. At one point, sleep had been one more human delight to explore, but recently it was only a slog into his own fractured psyche something he had no particular desire to face. The nightmares plagued his dreams more often than not, and it was much easier to hide from these problems than to wake up again and again with the chill of fear wrapped around his throat. If one of the humans wanted him to lie with them until they fell asleep, he would be more than happy lie still and hold them close for a few hours, but he did not sleep. He mostly occupied himself with wondering what his sweet pets dreamt about.

The demon busied himself with cleaning up, gazing into the mirror that hung above the washstand in his room as he filled the basin from a porcelain jug. While they had a few rooms already furnished with running water, largely in and in the rooms surrounding the kitchen on the first floor, it was simply too difficult to try and run lines throughout the whole of the old house. As it was, the piping that led to one of the many wells on the vast grounds was painfully obvious against the significantly less modern façade of their home. The large roll top bath he’d put in was very nice, as was the cistern that flushed the toilet, they weren’t much more than luxuries for humans that no longer needed to eat or drink and therefore rarely perspired, and only truly needed a bath when the managed to get themselves somehow incredibly dirty. The would only produce waste when they bothered to eat, which was more for some than others, so the running water was mostly used to washing clothes and filling buckets to wash the floor and filling jugs for the washstands on the upper floors.

Nonetheless, there was something pleasurable about running the damp cloth along the slim lines of his form. How human he looked, in so many aspects! It was amazing to think that he’d made this body with his own two hands. While there had been unforeseen difficulties, especially when it came to his innards, he could hardly fix those things now—the pets would surely starve to death if he left. He had no clue how long it’d take to rewire everything, it had taken ages to get the outside of the body to work properly to begin with it. The only things he’d managed to build somewhat properly were the skeletal and muscular systems. His cardiovascular system was fairly accurate, but some of the humans had seemed surprised that his heart was near his core, instead of higher in his chest. He still didn’t understand why their hearts weren’t central, but he didn’t push the issue. It wasn’t important anyway, and neither was his lack of a digestive system. It wasn’t like he ate that much anyway, and he didn’t mind being ill for the sake of the pets when he did eat.

The demon studied himself for a few long moments in his mirror, a deep sigh escaping his lung. What sad blue eyes stared back at him. Wasn’t he acting the fool? How could he be so morose when there was so much here for him? This was his home, his family. Wasn’t this what he wanted? He had a safe place to live, he had company, what more could he ask for? Persisting in this gloomy manner simply would not do. It’d be akin to giving up. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t let that happen. Time meandered on with or without him, and the humans followed it, despite their relative immortality. They didn’t deserve to be ignored in such a way. He shouldn’t burden them with such things. It was time to lift his chin up and carry on as usual. He had what he’d always wanted, he should be happy! The demon smiled at himself. This was a common ritual. Every time he fell back into that dark place, he had to remind himself that this was the life that he’d chosen. There were no other options. He’d made this. If he wasn’t proud of it, who would be? And these humans were his responsibility anyway. It would be cruel to neglect them.

After combing out his hair, he dressed again in soft greys and blues, draped a coat over his shoulders, and wandered outside. The moon hung, fat and overripe, at the apex of the sky. Moonlight spattered over the path, turning the flora and statuary into silver-haloed silhouettes. If there was another soul in his path, he either did not notice them, or they were too skilled at hiding for him to spot them. The night air was slightly chilly, a reminder of the freshly passed winter. A faint shiver crept up Sabine’s back as he observed the flower buds trying vainly to bloom. The last snow was long behind them, but spring struggled to manifest itself, only fitfully warming the air.

Sabine sighed. Even after all these centuries, he still couldn’t control these foreign human emotions. Even with memories of home far behind him, he remembered how much easier it had been to live in a body that had been made specifically for him, a form where his soul did fit, where it didn’t leak out haphazardly, leading to these fits of rage and moroseness he so despised. His dislike of these issues, however, seemed only to make them worse. Things had been so terrible lately, he couldn’t go even a month without breaking down at least once. Why? It wasn’t fair. He just wanted to live, take care of the humans and enjoy the earth. Why were things falling apart like this?

This peace, in the wake of such strong emotion, however, was much welcomed. It was one good thing about this world, about this body. No matter how sad or angry he became, everything always came back to this odd, still feeling in the pit of his being. Calm. It was a good feeling.

The fact that he was struggling with these stupid emotions that so easily and frequently bested him was not something he could share with any of the humans. Not even those closest to him. Theirs was supposed to be a carefree existence. He couldn’t burden them with his troubles, it wouldn’t be right. Even if this anger seemed to be doing the job for him. And the forgetfulness. Coming back to himself to see them broken and cowering was one thing, but to see their face fall when he forgot something important was even worse. And it had been happening so frequently lately. He should start keeping a list of important things nearby just in case. The fear of losing whatever continuum of memory he still clung to was a complex bundle of thoughts he’d been doing his very best to avoid thus far. If he didn’t think about it, it wasn’t a problem, right?

Right.

Sometimes, though, in the dead of night like this, he wondered if he should just let them all go. It wouldn’t be fair, though. They would die slow, agonizing deaths by starvation. How could he willingly play party to that? He still didn’t know exactly how they would die, other than suppositions based on how they began to act once they grew hungry, but he was fairly sure it’d be highly unpleasant. And he wasn’t about to experiment on a human to find out for sure. He wasn’t that kind of person.

They had enough troubles on their own anyway, didn’t they.

He just needed to remind himself to keep his chin up, to stay happy. Everything would turn out just fine, as long as he stayed content with the way things were. Life would continue on as it always had. As the sun began to stain the horizon with early morning color over the trees, Sabine sat down on a stone bench, facing an angelic fountain he’d acquired long ago and never really had the heart to get rid of. Now the stone had been worn down so much that the poor cherub was barely distinguishable. It was a trinket of a time since passed, a gift from someone long forgotten and longer dead.

It was funny. Sabine’s memory was incredibly vast, but as the years passed it worsened not because he lost the memories, but because it was too difficult to find them. It didn’t help that every fit of emptiness or anger caused little blips of nothingness on the fabric of his consciousness, and everything seemed to be fraying, connections lost and chaos reigning in his memory recall. He sighed, his shoulders rising and falling resignedly. He gazed up at the lightening sky for a few moments, one of millions of sunrises he’d seen. They were always so precious, though. He never tired of them. A new day. His eyes slid shut, head tilted back in an almost rapturous pose as peace settled over him. Life would continue for his little household as it always did. Everything would be fine.

Everything would be just fine.

As the sky blushed shyly, the sun finally poking its head over the trees, Sabine rose. Things had been altogether too quiet. He needed everyone to be together for a while. That usually cheered him up. It was an easy way to make sure everyone was doing alright anyway. A nice breakfast would do the trick. Everyone would come together to make food, those who desired to eat could eat, and those who did not could sit for a while. They would be a happy household for an hour or two. It would be fun!

They were all probably starting to get hungry anyway. He’d gotten into the habit of waiting for them to come to him if they needed to eat because, while some of them came willingly, trying to feed the others before the bite of hunger stirred them was like trying to drag a cat out of the attic. So it was easier to let them come to him, but he knew that some of the humans didn’t like to approach him when he was in catatonia. So hopefully those who required food would alert him during breakfast, and they could feed without issue.

Most of them did a good job about staying on top of their hunger. Perhaps they were ashamed by the violent measures they would inadvertently enact if they waited too long. He didn’t mind having his throat chewed out or his wrists scratched up on occasion—it was its own form of affection—but it seemed to bother several of them. It didn’t hurt him overmuch, but that didn’t seem to change the popular opinion.

It was a human thing.

A light, early morning breeze tugged at his long blond curls as he trotted back towards the manor, and the chill made him pull his jacket closer. It was time to gather the troops. Those who’d noticed that he’d vacated his spot from the night before would not be surprised to see him bouncing around, but those who hadn’t would certainly be caught off guard by his sudden mood change. Especially since he had the bad habit of bursting into places when he was excited about something.

It was a bit of a pain to find everyone. He’d let them choose their own rooms, so they were scattered all over. He didn’t linger long after finding any one pet, just long enough to tell them to go down to the kitchens and help prepare for breakfast. Any argument was met with a cheerful promise that if they didn’t come down, he’d carry them down himself and tie them to a chair. Some of the humans were still in their rooms—some still asleep—and others had already risen and were wandering about. Most of the time, meals were not spent together, since there was no real need to eat, but the best way to handle Sabine’s occasional whimsy was to sit at the table for a while until he floated off again, his attentions so easily diverted once he’d gotten what he wanted. It was also a good time to ask Sabine for new items, whether pets, clothing, or other trinkets, because he was usually in a fair mood when everyone was gathered together.

Once he’d finally assembled everyone, however, he made the realization that two members of the household were missing. The Blackbird he was unsurprised about, the golden-eyed boy was endlessly playing games, trying to keep a step out of reach. His Fox, however, came as a surprise, she usually attended when he called to her. But, as it was, he had two arms, he could carry them both down if he had to.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury Character Portrait: Aedan Huntington
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【"Damn it, when will you learn 'personal space'?"】
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【Kitchen】
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It was still fairly early in the morning, before the sun could properly flood into the halls and light the cool passages of the manor house. Sabine was on a mission. A mission to find Aedan and beseech him to go downstairs. First stop, Aedan's room. He'd already encountered some of the others, in less than stellar moods, by this point, so he wasn't sure exactly how his little snow leopard would respond to the request, but there was nothing to do but to do it. And after all, whether he liked it or not, Aedan would go down to the kitchen. Sabine's track record so far was too impeccable for a single fussy human to stop him in his tracks.

So quietly, Sabine pushed into Aedan's room. It was still dark, and he could hear the soft, steady sounds of Aedan breathing. Oh, he was asleep. How cute. Aedan's tousled blond locks were sprawled over his face and some of the silky strands covered his closed eyes. Number 8's lips were slightly open and far more innocent and inviting than they were in his waking hours. Those lush lips were often frowning, stuck in a firm line or opened to growl at him in his anger. Yes, a snow leopard with fire in its eyes on the waking but now looked more a kitten than a ferocious cat. Sabine paused for a moment to appreciate the human's slumber. He tried to stay quiet as he crept nearer, bending down a little so he could whisper his little kitten's name to rouse him as he gently pushed the wayward strands away from the planes of his face.

The young knight himself was having a rare, pleasant dream. Usually his nights were plagued with nightmares. He often replayed the death of Ronan and then his own brutal assault and near death experience. But tonight, tonight the darkness had enfolded him in the world of the book sprawled open beside him. He had fallen asleep while reading which seemed to allow his brain to finally depart from the harsh reality and sooth him. His mind was far away from the mischevious demon, depicting of falling cherry blossoms over a pond with large koi dancing beneath the surface. Aedan extended his hand to let his fingers idly slip into the water and-

Aedan felt a presence too near. Something was telling him to wake, but he didn't rouse at first, too lost in the sweetness of his dreams and the aroma of the blossoms. Then he felt a subtle warmth moving closer and closer to his head until the lilting breath touched his ears as it whispered his name. The hairs on his skin immediately stood on end and his eyes snapped open. His nightmares and pain immediately screamed at him to defend himself, to prevent the agony he knew would be coming. He gasped and his hand, now curled into a fist, instinctively jolted upward to hit the head that was besides his to get some distance from him. Once he completed his punch with a satisfying 'smack', he scrambled backwards and fell right off the bed. He didn't have time to feel sorry or think about the pain in his rump. He grabbed his sword and sprang to his feet panting and eyes wild.

At the strike, Sabine reeled back a few steps, looking rather surprised, his hand gently touching the place Aedan had made contact. It stung vaguely for a moment before the bruise healed into nothingness again, as if it'd never happened. And now Aedan was standing again, holding his sword, his voice a low growl. Sabine just smiled, pleased that the human was awake now.

That's when Aedan realized the dark phantom was just Sabine.

Oh. Sabine. That is right; he lived with the strange demon. He wasn't at his lord's abode and he wasn't being attacked. He was fine. Safe. For the most part. Wait, wasn't Sabine catatonic in the library? He had been tiptoeing around him to get the books he wanted to read. It looked like Sabine was feeling better today at least. These mood swings Sabine had were quite unnerving and he didn't know what to do with the demon. Even though he had been happy Sabine wasn't all over him, he knew something had been wrong. Aedan exhaled a pent up breath he hadn't realized he was holding.


"What the hell are you doing? You scared me half to death!" he growled and slammed the sword back into its sheath.

"I'm sorry for scaring you, darling," Sabine said cheerfully, his hand moving from the place where a bruise had been for all of ten seconds to run through his hair instead. "I wanted to invite you down for breakfast with everyone. I thought it might be fun if I gathered everyone up to eat together." His voice was undeniably cheerful in the darkened room, as if it alone could illuminate the surroundings.

"Damn it, Sabine! Wake me up like a normal person next time! Just call my name and knock on the door. What if I had a dagger in my hand? I would have gutted you! Personal space! You'd think you'd learn by now, considering how many times I have already kicked and punched you." He shook his head and took a moment to calm himself. "Well I am up. Go on now," he said and tried to shoo him away. He was honestly a bit surprised when the demon all but skipped out of the room. Aedan arched an eye at the man before he shook his head. He sighed softly and ran a hand through his hair. "I was having such a nice dream..." he grumbled then before he locked the door though he didn't think that would stop Sabine from entering it.

He quickly went about his business getting ready. He donned his light clothing, a pale blue shirt and pants this time, and his black leather armor and adjusted his belt and his sword. He caressed the hilt gently, remember once more the life he couldn't return to. He wondered how his family was doing. Had they suffered terribly because of his blasphemy? Had they been kicked off the lord's lands and forced to scavenge or go back to the factories? His grip tightened on the hilt and forced his mind elsewhere.

Breakfast. Sabine had mentioned breakfast. Sabine had called for breakfast once before but he hadn't gone downstairs to join anyone. It had been a month after his life had changed and Sabine had given him the reprieve he needed. He hadn't been ready to be around all the other pets. What exactly did this breakfast consist of? Did they all just... sit there and wait to drink Sabine's blood? Did they all just drink? Did they actually sit down and have a normal human breakfast? He grew a bit queasy at the scene that developed in his mind; of all of them just hanging on the demon. It made him want to curl up under the covers again but he doubted that Sabine would let him stay up here again and he really didn't want to deal with a clingy demon dragging him downstairs.

Speaking of blood, Aedan felt the pang in his abdomen. He touched his stomach lightly and swallowed hard. The hunger had been bothering him for the past couple of days and today the sharpness of it made him ache. He had tried not drinking blood before and found that if he went too long without drinking, the hunger became maddening to the point he couldn't think of anything else. The agony that lurked was something he didn't want to experience. It had felt like someone had been sawing at his innards and he had become snappy to people around him. Not to mention he had been humiliated when he remembered the desperation he had fallen into at Sabine's feet, begging and shaking like an addict for his next fix.

That episode had occurred not long from when he had first arrived and it came with the realization that he was dependent on the demon and his blood. It didn't help with his mental state when he remembered the ecstatic euphoria that came over him when he drank the blood; the momentary monster he became in his need to consume that warm liquid. Even now he hated how his mouth watered at the very thought of it. And he knew he had to ask Sabine for blood today. He didn't want to be desperate again.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury Character Portrait: Aedan Huntington
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#, as written by mjolnir
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【"Fuck you... Fuck this place... Fuck life."】
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【The Manor, Hallways】
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【#7e4393】
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7 days, 13 hours and 43 minutes… No… 6 days. How many days had it been? Imogen had a difficult enough time keeping the days of the week straight any given week. But what little sense of passing time she had flew out the window the second Sabine went catatonic. She would have bet money on that fact that some of the demon’s precious pets were in a tizzy without their over glorified demon available for whatever purposes they needed.

For Imogen that meant a week of whatever freedom she could muster. That was a rarity in that household. It wasn’t even 24 hours into Sabine’s minor coma that she attempted to escape… runaway. It’s not like any of the others were going to stop her or anything. They wanted her there as much as she wanted to be there. One of their few mutual standings in her eyes. But unfortunately for her she made it what? 5 miles? Before she felt the tug. Was it because she’s been tethered to Sabine for so many years? The blood was like a deep rooted magnetism with its claws hook deep inside her. With ever step she took away the strong the force tugging her back was.

She fought for as long as she could, and even then she made it another mile before she cracked. Imogen’s body caved in and collapsed to her knees. A cage for a cage. Her life was a joke. She didn’t know what she hated more the literal cage where people paid money to gawk at her deformity or physical cage that Sabine has trapped her in for eternity. It was cruel. Freedom was right there before her. She could taste its sweet nectar but with every outstretched hand and attempted clutch it was like trying to catch clouds.

On her trek back Imogen contemplated other options. She could drain some of Sabine’s blood if she could distract the other pets. But how long would that last her? How far could she make it? Scratch that. Her mind kept rolling over every idea… Every possibility. But it was pointless. She’s thought of everything before. Her only freedom would be death and well, being immortal sort of put a damper on that scenario.

After returning back to the manor Imogen made her way up to the dark abysmal pit that was her room and barricaded herself inside. Her sanctuary for lack of a better word. The only place that was darker than her heart was this room. If something wasn’t black it was navy blue or a dark purple… So everything was basically black.

She went straight for the little wooden desk that sat before the large windows draped in black tulle. Imogen tore through the drawers until she found an old stack of parchment with scribblings upon it. A list… At least 10 pages long. All with numerous forms of self-mutilation that in a normal person would all result in the same thing… Death. Who knew how long Sabine would be like this. But Imogen hoped more than anything that he’d wake to find himself less a pet.

With nothing better to do with her time she trailed her finger down the list until she found her next available option. Recovering her quill from its inkwell, she scratched a line through it. She then stood up. She stepped from her chair to the top of her desk. She pushed open the windows, leaning her head out to glance down at the ground far below. She was tempted… Oh was she tempted. But angrily she turned around and slammed the windows shut before plopping her rump down on her desk. She already knew the outcome. Her body would be a hot mangled mess and then she’d have to drag her ass towards Sabine who very well might pull her into unwanted contact if she tried to feed from him so she could heal. Yeah no.

Over the remaining period of days Imogen exhausted her list even trying somethings more than once. Drowning herself in the bathtub? Well honestly, it was much like lying in a bathtub absent water… Boring, useless and got her nowhere. Laudanum? Left her vomiting for the better half of a day... And so the list went on and on.

By this point Imogen was lying on the floor in the center of her room. Most of her wounds had began to scab over looking uglier than they were. But there were still hints of foul play plaguing her body. She rested her cheek upon a bent arm while she used a knife to chip at the dried blood that turned her dark ebony stained wood floors into the aftermath of a massacre. Her legs kicked back and forth in the air as she switched between picking at the blood, to carving into the wood and even playing that game many stupid young boys play where they quickly stab the blade between their fingers and see how long they can go before hitting a finger. With each slip up the blade piercing her skin withdrew a wince from her lips. No the wounds were nothing dire but still her fingers were plagued with little ticks. Turns out she was just adding to the blood upon the floor.

Footsteps could be heard approaching down the hall. Imogen cursed under her breath. No doubt who it could be because in all honesty he was the only one daft enough to come and initiate contact with her while she was barricaded in her room. Sure she could have gotten up and locked the door far before he even attempted to unlatch the door, but that took more effort than she was willing to emit. So she simply shifted so that she was laying on her back and began tossing the knife up into the air, allowing it to fall only to catch it before it impale her face.

She repeated and repeated again until the blade penetrated the palm of her left hand as she was distracted by the jiggling of the doorknob. Imogen quickly yanked the knife from her palm and hurled it towards the door just as it opened. The blade whizzed through the air and slammed into the doorframe missing Sabine’s nose by less than an inch.

“Damn.” Imogen grumbled. She half hoped it would gouge out his eye or take the tip of his nose in passing. But sadly no such luck. Glancing down she was brought back to reality with the blood and scratches that covered her digits. SHe quickly hid her hands behind her back before the almighty demon had a heart attack at her very minor wounds.

He made his way right into her room without asking for permission, nothing new. “Kitten~” Sabine said, leaning against the doorframe, “I was wondering if—”

“No.” Plain and to the point. She didn’t care what he had to say. She wanted no part in any of it.

Sabine paused, momentarily surprised by the interruption before continuing brightly. “Are you sure? I’m sure the others would be disappointed if they didn’t see you.”

Imogen busted out in almost full hearted laughing to only break it off abruptly to stare in dead in the eyes. “Even someone as stupid as you couldn’t believe that.”

He fixed her with a steady, challenging stare, though his voice never lost the cheerful edge. “And if I don’t see you down there when I go to check, I might just have to come up here and carry you down myself, princess. Wouldn’t that be fun!” He offered a brilliant smile and then bounced off without waiting for a response.

After Sabine left she quickly got up and made sure to slam her door… Then again… And again a third time for good measure. No she didn’t want to fucking go to breakfast with any of them. None. Period. But on the other hand he would just be back to take her by force. A locked door would only stop him for so long.

“Do I wanna go? Of course not.”

“But he’ll just be back for you if you don’t go.”

“Yeah I know.”

“And he’ll actually make you go…”

“I know.”

“… By force.”

“Yeah yeah I know.”

Imogen angrily kicked her door, yelled before rubbing her temples. “Oh my god… I’m going crazy. It starts with talking to myself… Next thing I know I’ll be going suicidal because ‘the voices’ tell me to.” She went to walk to her wardrobe and froze mid step. “Oh wait…” She laughed weakly at her own instability as she closed the distance towards her wardrobe.

She opened the door of the oak furnishing and let her hands diligently finger through the clothing. “Black, black or… Pink?” She yanked the piece of disgusting colored clothing and hastily chucked it out the window. “Fucking… people.”

Imogen stripped out of the clothes she has worn for the entire week without even a thought to changing. She decided if she was actually going to be seen she’d dress proper… Well proper enough. No matter how much threatening Sabine did he wouldn’t catch her in a dress. Instead she grabbed one of her many black suits and a purple blouse. It took no time to get dressed into the outfit when a corset and bustle weren’t necessary.

But the clothes weren’t the important part. Imogen knelt down before a lower drawer, slowly pulling it open to reveal her ascots with their matching gloves beside them. A weird hobby but something small that brought a little joy. She pulled out the black lace set then moved before the mirror so she could perfectly tie the ascot, and pin it down with a pearl pin. Before putting on her gloves she slips on her Mary Janes, lacing them up slower than what was properly necessary.

Deeming herself ready enough, Imogen exited her room and headed down the hall. She took her steps very slow, making no need to hurry to breakfast as she slips her gloves on slowly and carefully passed the cuts upon her hands.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aedan Huntington Character Portrait: Indigo Pelacour Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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【"Back to the daily grind."】
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【Roof → Kitchen】
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【#4B0082】
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Indigo had long grown used to these periods of silence by now. The limbo of not knowing when Sabine would come out of his sprawl, of the uneasy, unspoken truce between the pets with no demon breathing down their necks. Those who had been there longer than others, the veterans, could more easily predict when the lapses would end. Indigo was one of these few, and had grown to enjoy these rare patches greatly. Even now, she let the quiet soak into her bones with little hesitation.

When Beez had first begun to fall into these spells, Indigo had been far, far more cautious, suspecting some sort of trick. A way to try and find out what his darling collections said about him behind his back, or perhaps an attempt to lull them into a false sense of security. Of course, this paranoia eventually faded, and she now put it to much better use. Surprisingly, the Second was among the several who became far more subdued in the face of Sabine’s catatonia. She became a far different person than the burbling fountain of energy that usually roamed the halls- using as little words as necessary, and, instead of seeking out the others, made herself especially scarce. In the few times when the Owl did show herself, it was typically within the walls of the library, or outside, tending to her small assortment of livestock. In both occasions, she would scurry back to wherever she had been hiding herself not long after, with little fanfare.

But Indigo never left the mansion during these times. The thought of doing so hardly crossed her mind these days.

Today, as the sun stretched flushed fingers across the sky, Two found herself on the rooftops- or, rather, hanging from them. She was currently in a bit of an awkward position; grip tight around the gutters, and feet hooked around the branch of a tree. This left most of her body dangling uncomfortably in midair, but Indigo remained in that pose for another few minutes before moving. Slowly, she stiffened to her full length, and began to inch her legs back into the leaves. Then her lower body. When only her fingertips remained, Indigo released her grasp, and swung back into the safety of her tree.

At least, not until she had slammed face-first into the bark with a loud smack, and a flurry of rather creative curses as she attempted to upright herself, one hand planted firmly on her hat.

It took several more minutes of shuffling and shimmying before Indigo made much progress, and a few more before she reached the entrance of her own room. Luckily, she had remembered to leave the window open this time, and instead of careening to the ground and ending up with a few broken legs for her efforts, she crawled safely inside. Little victories, Indigo thought. Little victories. On a whim, she struck a quick pose to congratulate herself on her acrobatic skill, before turning to pull the curtains shut.

Her room was a particularly...odd one, put in the kindest way possible. It was a mis-match of color and style, brought upon by her stubborn insistence of refusing any and all of Sabine’s help. Thick red and green curtains, motheaten and covered in a thin line of dust that didn’t quite seem to leave, covered the windows- transforming the room into a gloomy sepulcher. A large cupboard stood in the corner, filled to the brim with whatever wines Indigo had managed to hoard over the years, and, opposite to that, was a desk made of some kind of pale wood that the Owl couldn’t quite identify, and didn’t care to anytime soon. There were a few chairs of all shapes and sizes, a wardrobe painted in a delightful cream color, a large, king sized bed Indigo had somehow managed to smuggle in, complete with a canopy crudely stitched together from dresses and shirts…

Combined with the soft, sunset orange wallpaper, and the dark wood of the floor, some would consider the setup to be garish.

Indigo thought it was charming.

Nevertheless, she hadn’t come here to chew the scenery. Stretching her arms out high above her head, she strolled over to her closet, and began to paw through her collection of outfits. If her room could be considered unorthodox, her outfits were completely heretical- ranging from different years. Different periods. Different everything. Once again, Indigo didn’t spend too much time browsing, immediately reaching out to grab a soft blue thing that seemed more suitable for bedclothes than anything. Peeling the trousers and shirt from her body (for as unfortunate as it was, climbing the mansion walls tended to be a bit more uncomfortable in a dress than she would have hoped for), Indigo dressed herself in the gown, then folded up her old outfit and tucked it in neatly in the corner. She could wash it later, she supposed.


Typically, Indigo wouldn’t have returned to her room at all today. She had long discovered the lack of perspiration from hers and the other pets, and, as she didn’t particularly exert herself during Sabine’s little off periods, she could go several days before changing. However, like other, older pets, Indigo had a rough guess of when their “gracious” host would come out of his slump.

Today, she felt, was the day.

Combing her fingers through her mop of hair (she would have to cut it again, she decided. It was getting a bit too long for her liking), Indigo tossed her trilby back onto her head, and, resetting it to its customary cocked angle, went to leave the room. If today really was the day, there was no point sulking around in her room and waiting for the inevitable. Or hiding, for that matter. Once, during her rebellious days, Indigo had stuffed herself into the chimney in a desperate attempt to avoid Sabine’s grasp.

Of course, the demon found her soon enough, and had dragged her out in the same way one would extract a particularly angry cat. Indigo sometimes wondered if one of the demon’s powers was super-senses- with the sheer amount of strength Sabine had, she wouldn’t doubt it. Indigo paused in her little train of thought upon reaching the stairs. With a large grin, she hopped onto the handrail, and slid the rest of the way down, hat somehow glued to her head in spite of her speed. She remembered to keep a good grip on the rail this time, and landed without further trouble. In the past, she had been a bit too careless with her descent, and had ended up breaking her neck on landing. Hadn’t done much to affect her in the long run, but it had still been a rather unpleasant experience. Idly, Indigo rubbed the spot where her spine had bent like a twig, then entered the kitchen.

Out of all the rooms in the manor, the kitchen was the one she spent the third most time in- the others being her bedroom, and the library, respectively. Somewhat expected of a woman, she supposed, but Indigo didn’t care about that. She didn’t care about a lot of things, these days. Cracking her knuckles, she took out the flour from one of the shelves, and a few other basic ingredients. She would have to step out to collect a few eggs from her chickens, but that wouldn’t be too large of a problem.

Indigo had just tucked the flour into the oven when a bit of movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Instinctively placing one hand over her hat and pinning it there, she turned to face the intruder- and broke out in her large, crooked grin upon seeing who it was.
“Blondie!” She crowed. “Great timing, kid. G-reat. Timing, let me tell you.” Giving the oven a hearty smack, Indigo took a few steps forward, hand tentatively lowering from its spot on her head. “You mind getting a few eggs for me? Got the milk here, but you, ah, can’t really keep eggs fresh real easy.” She paused, then added, “Plus, I’m guessin’ the reason you’re not off in the corner today is cause Beez joined the livin’ again, and I really don’t want him to go chasing me down if I go get them myself. Really inconvenient for me, and for breakfast. And you probably care more about the breakfast more, amiright?” Indigo topped off her little rambling with her best imitation of a hyena, and gave the freshly placed coin in her mouth a loud smack.


Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Aedan Huntington Character Portrait: Indigo Pelacour Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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【”Breakfast need not be so early in the morning.”】
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【Bedroom → Kitchen】
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【#2C5D3F】
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The house had fallen into an almost eerie silence during the past week. The usually vivacious Sabine had slipped into his morose state, which Nicholas had seen him done many times before. Though used to the demons mood swings, when they would start still remained unpredictable to the First. He was unsure of what had brought on the sudden somberness and hoped that it had not been in any way caused by himself.

While having his poor friend in a catatonic state was certainly more favourable to an enraged one, it still made him sad to see Sabine in such a mood. Of course he did his best to hide this fact, carrying himself through the halls as he normally would and greeting the other pets should they cross paths, acting as though everything was just fine. He knew there was little he could do for Sabine at this time other than check in on him from time to time. A cuddle session would be good for the poor demon, but alas, his absolute favourite person in the house had kept quiet guard over her precious Sabine. Coupled with the fact that Nicholas’s dog Aggy hated Sabine, it didn’t seem like the best idea to draw too close to him.

Nicholas had spent the week reading, taking care of his pets, and generally being by himself. It was a nice time to relax before the chaos in the house decided to pick up again. As such, he was quite content to stay up a bit later than usual to savor the stillness of the night. It was the perfect time to sit outside and stare at the stars. They hung in the vast sky above him, on display for all to see. He couldn’t help but wonder how many of these stars he’d looked up at before. How many were there for him yet to see? Nicholas doubted he’d ever find the answer, as the stars had always seemed infinite to him.

He had no idea what time it was when he finally got into his bed. It didn’t matter to him, as he wasn’t expecting to rise for at least another seven hours. Hundreds of years ago he woke daily before the sun rose. Now, without the need to tend to his land, he’d grown accustomed to waking up later. Aggy curled up next to him, occupying the other side of the bed. He ran his fingers through her dark fur, small tufts coming lose in his fingers. With winter now over she would start to shed piles of fur in preparation for the summer. Lovely. After petting her for a few more minutes, Nicholas blew out the candle on the nightstand next to his bed. The light quickly extinguished.

Nicholas had chosen a room on the second floor of the north wing. His room, a corner room on the left side of the hallway, had three windows. All were nearly floor to ceiling in height. Two were on the back wall of the house while the other was on the north wall. All were covered by heavy, dark green curtains. The walls were painted beige, as Nicholas was not a huge fan of wallpaper. The floors were worn and slightly less dark than the dark wooden floors in the dining room. In the center of the room was a large, green rug. The rug did not add much to the overall aesthetics of the room. In fact, some might say it completely threw it off. Considering that the queen sized bed was in the corner, the rug in the middle of the room did not make much sense. Or perhaps it was the bed placement that made no sense. Whatever the case, Nicholas’s bed was located in the corner of the room and tucked between the two windows on their respective walls. The bed had a green quilt on top of it and a single pillow. The night stand sat beside it, just large enough to provide an adequate space to place a candle and book and just small enough to not be in front of the window. Against the opposite wall, the south wall, was a wardrobe and a desk. Like the rest of the wood furniture in his room, they were made of dark mahogany. Between the two windows on the outer wall was a beige chair Nick used for reading. The center of the room remained void of anything but the green rug and occasionally a sleeping Aggy.

The First was used to dreaming odd things. It had occurred a lot during his childhood but eventually the dreams became less vivid and fantastical. However, after Sabine had changed him the dreams he had were again inconceivable to anyone but himself. Tonight was one of the rare nights that he could not recall his dream.

Time slipped away entirely for him until he was awoken by Aggy barking and growling. He rose himself on his elbows and looked to his right, seeing his faithful canine standing with her attention turned to the door. In turn, he too set his gaze towards the door. It opened and a very joyous Sabine waltzed in. Aggy continued barking at him, though the demon took this as a ‘hello’ rather than a threat. Nicholas himself wasn’t exactly overjoyed to see Sabine. He was glad that his friend was out of his slump, but a little bit more sleep would have been nice. Oh well, it’d be useless to go back to bed at this point.

Once Sabine had delivered the news of breakfast and departed, Nicholas rose and stretched. Aggy laid back down on the bed as he pulled the sheets and covers back over the mattress. The First then left the room for a few minutes, walking down the hall to the nearest washroom in order to wash his face. He found that this helped to wake him up in the morning. Upon returning he dressed himself in his usual attire— minus his jacket. It would only get in the way or dirty when he helped to prepare breakfast.

Nicholas left his room with Aggy right behind him. He descended the steps to the first floor, messy black hair flopping a bit as he did so. He proceeded to walk to the kitchen, where he could hear Indie talking to someone. No doubt she was the ring leader in the efforts to make the breakfast. He didn’t object to this at all and would do all he could to help. He wasn’t sure what she had in mind and unfortunately cookies were not typically considered breakfast food.

He entered the kitchen to find Aedan and Indigo already there. “Good morning,” he said to them as he entered. Nick glanced behind him to see that Aggy had departed from him, opting to find a place with less people for the time being. “What are the orders for today, captain?” he asked with a small grin as he looked down at Indigo and saluted her.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury Character Portrait: Aedan Huntington
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【"Home is where the heart is~"】
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【From the forest all the way home】
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【#15155E】
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Dawn in the forests was lovely, birdsong filling the cool crisp air. Little feet pattered back and forth in the silence, the small creatures gathering their food like every other day. It was a soft breeze that brought the first change, and the animals with sharp noses took notice. Something was coming. It wasn’t long before footsteps made the earth thrum with each vibration, and a bright blur of motion made the birds go silent, only to pick up once the movement was past and they were safe once more. Harsh panting filled the air, and to the most sensitive ears, it was matched by a pounding human heart.

Damien Moore lifted his head up to the sky, peering past the early budding leaves to check where the sun was in the sky. He’d been out in town for the past few days, visiting his lovers for a few nights and revelling in the illusion of freedom for a bit. This morning, between teasing comments and stealing snatches of food and being ushered out of the house before anyone saw him and wondered why he’d spent the night, his intuition had started to make him uneasy. Go home it whispered as he’d brushed off his garments. You’ve had your fun, now return to the manor

He’d left even before the sunrise and had been making a steady pace since then, trekking back through the woodlands, letting the branches catch on him, lending to his story of a walk in the woods. None of the others would believe him, he already knew. But the demon would, and if he returned to an active Sabine, then the more realistic the better. His white shirt, though loose, was made of a material so fine it was almost translucent, and now it clung to his body desperately, as did the pants curving around his legs. The pale grey coat was slung over his right arm for now, as he wasn’t particularly cold, and as Dami walked, he shifted it to his left and stretched as well as he could without losing speed.

His body was aching and it wasn’t pleased with the action he demanded from it. Dami mused that he could feel the individual bruises slowly fading away, but they’d remain there for some time until he could drink. Whether by a “family breakfast” or by stealing from Sabine’s still form, he’d be in top shape by noon. In top shape and bored…he wasn’t about to risk leaving once again. And the manor, despite its secrets, was home…

Wiping his hair from face, Dami continued onward, moving faster than before. The trees thinned soon, and beyond them rose the manor, stately in the morning light. The blond crossed quickly, bursting through the doors, and as they slammed shut, he tilted his head back and forth much like the small creatures he’d startled not long ago. He could hear footsteps, voices… Quietly, using the side stairwells, he got to his room without being seen.

He shut the door before stripping off, letting the clothing fall to the floor in crumpled heaps. They had served well, but for now their job was done. His skin, once bared, told a story of lust and pleasure written by hands and lips. As he drew a damp cloth over the marks, he smiled, remembering the moments. His time in town was never quiet, never lonely – he often felt his best there, most alive when playing his game. And truth be told, Dami was a champion of lust. He’d had years to hone his skills and rarely nowadays seduced consciously, thinking of each step. His cues were often nonverbal, layered under innuendo and tone, combined with shy, smouldering eyes. It was a system that had always worked, and the men who still welcomed him into their beds were a testament to his success.

The blue walls of his room enclosed him in familiarity as Dami went to sit on the large bed, and drew his comb from under the unused pillows to neaten up his hair. Navy curtains fluttered in a slight breeze, sunlight spilling in between them and brightening the surprisingly dark room. Damien had decorated in deep blues for fabrics and rich browns for furniture, the only lighter colour being silver, which was only present in accents. His room was meant to be somewhere where he could curl up and hide, not a place to entertain guests. He had another room for that, somewhere on the first floor, a place as bright and cheery as his typical attitude. It didn’t get much use, and most of Dami’s time in it was spent dusting and airing out. Even he disliked it, being honest to himself. There was a reason this was his bedroom and not the sunshiney room downstairs.

Plus everything of his was stored here, like the comb under the pillows, or the new clothing he pulled from the wardrobe. Neat form fitting black slacks, and a blue shirt very similar in form to the white one he’d worn before except for the high collar hiding one particularly noticeable love bite. He carelessly dropped the old clothes into the hamper behind his door, then fussed with his hair in the mirror, drew a smile onto his face, and wandered casually downstairs.

He caught Nick just as he was heading into the kitchen, but held back to watch – what, he hadn’t seen any of them for a few days! – and then fussed with his own appearance, hair and collar especially, hovering outside the room for a long few moments. He then checked his saunter – a lazy sway back and forth should do it – and sashayed into the room, where all the others, save for Four, Natalia, and Sabine, were present.

“Good Morning!” he sang, looking around with bright eyes. “Hello Madison, Imogen, ooo, is that French toast Indie? Good choice!” He danced over to take a closer look at the cooking in progress, then got up close and personal with Aedan, saying his good morning lowly, complete with bedroom eyes. He greeted Nicholas just as fondly but less invasively, and was just going to settle down when Sabine entered, with the last two pets being carried in his arms. The blond immediately fussed with his collar again, and was completely ready when their resident demon turned, saw him, and exclaimed, "Oh! My Hart, there you are!"

Dami beamed, chirping “Good Morning, Sabine” before throwing himself into the demon’s arms for a hug. He relished the warmth, then wiggled free, going to settle at the table. The smell of cinnamon filled the air as their breakfast cooked, and as he saw a large bowl of cream being whipped, he smiled wickedly, already getting the inklings of an idea into his pretty head.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury Character Portrait: Aedan Huntington
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【"There's nothing better than being together!"】
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【Kitchen & Dining Room】
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【#E31230】
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Sabine strolled into the kitchen with a spring in his step, pleased to see the bustle that had already sprung up. Despite his first instinct to engage with everyone, the way Lonan kept struggling sporadically like a slowly suffocating fish was enough to remind him that he still had passengers to let down. Sabine's grip tightened on the boy as he lowered Nattia so she could daintily dismount from his arm. She swept off immediately through the door to the dining room, but the demon waited a moment before following her, shifting Lonan in his hands. He held the boy under the arms firmly so he couldn't make a wriggling escape, feet dangling down, and looked him dead in the eye. "If you try to escape again, I'll catch you and tie you down so you can't get away, my little birdie," he said cheerfully, though a cool expression iced over his eyes for a second. Just as quickly as it came, however, his countenance shifted again, and he grinned and wrinkled his nose a bit at his blackbird.

Through the archway, into the dining room they went. The adjoining room was spacious, the fair wall occupied by a yawning bay window looking over a smaller garden, tree-studded hills visible in the middle-distance. The sun slanted through the windows haphazardly, illuminating dark oak floors and paneling that was slowly fading from the near constant assault from the sun. The long table set in the center of the room atop a slightly threadbare red and gold runner carpet. The table looked much newer than the rest of the room, from the perpetually dusty maroon wallpaper and molding to the precariously hanging golden chandelier hung above (it was dubious whether the thing could hold candles anymore, but it looked pretty, so Sabine hadn't bothered to take it down yet.) Four chairs sat on one side of the table, and five on the other, and none at the head--or foot--of the table. Sabine liked to sit in the middle on the right side (where there were five chairs so he could be properly in the middle.)

Nattia was already seated beside his usual spot, and he shot her a fond smile as he forcibly sat Four down in the chair across from his. "
If he tries to make a break for it, give me a shout, would you, Red?" he said, glancing at her again before moving back towards the kitchen.

If he was correct, everyone was here now except..."
Oh! My Hart, there you are!" He said as he spotted the blond. The other smiled brilliantly at him and threw himself into a hug. As Sabine momentarily rested his cheek against the top of Damien's head, holding him tightly, he noted that the male smelled like the outdoors. Grass? Maybe that's why he hadn't been able to find him, he hadn't checked the gardens this morning yet, so perhaps the Deer had been outside on a morning walk and managed to reenter at a lucky time. He did not protest as the other pulled away, though he missed the warmth of the embrace already, and then continued on to investigate the making of breakfast.

Which meant persistently getting in the way of those who were cooking, as that was his only talent in the kitchen. He just wanted to be amidst the bustle and activity of his humans. And also make an attempt to put his hands on anyone who got too close. But, as he tended to when Nick was near and also doing things that didn't include paying attention to him, he primarily followed the dark haired male around, watching him work with mixed interest and curiosity on his face.

He did make himself useful in carrying things back and forth as the humans started to finish up on preparing the breakfast. Though he was not one for eating, he would still do it, especially if it was something made by one of the pets. He didn't understand food very well, but anything one of his humans made had to be good, right? Anyways, just having everyone together was enough to make him grin all over himself as breakfast preparations finished and everyone started to settle down at the table.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury Character Portrait: Aedan Huntington
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#, as written by slcam
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【"I am here, deal with it."】
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【Sitting at the table, to the right of Sabine's spot】
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【#881309】
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They approached to Four’s quarters, and Natalia’s face grew stormier with each step. All her giddiness from just moments earlier dissolved into a brooding anger, directed mostly at Four. She never liked sharing Sabine’s attention, and this was no exception. That despised door lurked in a dim corridor, as far as possible from all others. It was suiting, really, for a fusty, reclusive bumpkin like Four. Natalia, still perched in the demon’s arm, gave a huff of annoyance as he tried to doorknob only to find the door unmoving. “How utterly unpleasant,” Natalia murmured to herself.

Sabine seemed to take little notice of her comment and set himself against the door, straining only the slightest bit against whatever dead weight denied him entry. His hold on Natalia remained as gentle as ever, and she could not help the small ray of pleasure that pierced her disgruntlement. Finally, with one final effort, there came the sound of something very large indeed toppling headlong to the floor. Despite expecting it, Natalia still jumped from the enormous clatter, her heart beating wildly. “God’s wounds!” she swore under her breath, bringing a hand to her heart to calm herself. Her venomous gaze immediately settled on Four, communicating her displeasure at the situation better than any insults would. In any case, with Sabine present, she could not be outright with insulting the lout of a boy, no matter if he did deserve it.

Though Four looked rather startled and barely half awake, rather like a young child, his expression soon turned to one of disgust that mirrored Nattia’s own glare. Sabine set her on the now overturned dresser, and Natalia arranged herself comfortably so she could sit up straight and continue her glare at Four. She hoped to communicate that she did not wish the boy to make more commotion than he already had. Still, she knew there was little chance that the thick-witted clod would stop acting like a spoiled child.

Sabine fairly tackled the boy to the bed, and, despite the stirrings of jealousy in her, she found herself interested to see how things would turn out. Four struggled and Nattia snorted derisively, amused by his helplessness. Sabine asked about how much sleep the boy had gotten, and only got a rebuff in response. Nattia scoffed once more at Four’s useless resistance. It truly was bothersome, even when directed at Sabine. When he levered a venomous gaze at her, supposedly for sitting on his dresser, she merely made herself more comfortable, refusing to drop her gaze, as if to say, “I am here, deal with it.” A smirk played on her features in response to his loathing.

Sabine ignored Four’s harsh gaze and tone and responded playfully, even ruffling the boy’s hair. The effect was rather comical, and it was clear how much Four disliked it. He looked like a cat being petted the wrong way. Natalia’s spiteful sneer only grew, even as the boy grabbed and moved Sabine’s arm. Or rather, Sabine allowed him to move it. Four commanded the demon to get out, kicking him off the bed, but Sabine dragged him along by his ankle. Nattia rolled her eyes in annoyance at the antics as Sabine merely dragged him up until he was hanging upside down in Sabine’s vice-like grip. What a comical sight! Still, Nattia thought that the embarrassment quite suited the boy. Maybe now he would give up and desist with the foolish resistance.

Nattia started when Four suddenly lurched, bringing his foot up to connect with Sabine’s face. The demon’s blood began to dribble from a nose that took on a crimson hue. Nattia let out a gasp of alarm and outrage at the ridiculous display. Sabine lightly took it as Four being hungry, but Nattia’s rage did not cool and hate for the boy gleamed in her eyes. When Sabine reminded him that they were keeping the others waiting for breakfast, the guarded look on Four’s face gave Nattia a twisted pleasure. He clearly did not like that idea, but it served him right.

“Yes, little soot bird,” she spat out the words like a curse, pausing to smirk before she continued. “We are late for breakfast. I am sure you would not want to miss that,” she purred, mocking him lightly.

Sabine slung him over his shoulder and came back to the dresser to retrieve her. Nattia started out trying to convince Sabine to let her walk with a, “No, no, my dear. I think I would be more comfortable-”

She was cut off as he picked her up anyway, hardly seeming to notice her protests. She was soon nestled back on Sabine’s arm. Though she attempted a couple glares at Lonan over Sabine’s shoulder, he firmly ignored her. This irked her to no end, her irritation plain on her face. The boy was so insufferable, and Nattia hardly knew why Sabine even kept him around. Even worse, he continued to struggle at random intervals. Sabine was too strong for these to have much effect, so Natalia was sure the boy was doing it just to be a nuisance.

Unfortunately, despite her attempts to ignore these childish irritations, by the time they reached the kitchen she was silently fuming. It would not be a good morning for any who got in her way. Still, luckily for Lonan, she wanted to get away from his idiocy as soon as possible. She had no patience for banter, for now.

As soon as they entered the kitchen, Nattia could feel the general attention shift in their direction. She straightened, levering a haughty gaze at whoever dared to look her way. She assumed that each glance was at her and glared accordingly, making it clear that this was not the time to test her. As soon as Sabine set her down, she fussily straightened her skirts, gave Lonan an acidic glare, then whirled off to the dining room without acknowledging anyone else. Nattia sat at her usual spot to the right of where Sabine usually sat and sulkily stared straight ahead.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury Character Portrait: Aedan Huntington
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#, as written by mjolnir
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【"Fuck you... Fuck this place. Fuck life."】
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【Hallways then the Kitchen】
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【#7e4393】
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Imogen had zero intentions of actually arriving to this breakfast in a timely manner. As she walked her nimble fingers kept tugging and fidgeting with the lace of her gloves. Although pretty, they were irritating the slashes and cuts that she was trying to conceal. She prayed that they scabbed up relatively quickly so she didn't have to explain to clingy-mc-kidnapper why she was inflicting self harm. She's had that lecture one too many times.

She came to a stop when she passed by one of the many insignificant little tables in the halls. There were two rather large porcelain vases on either side with very very dead flowers draped over in them littering the floor with dead petals. But Imogen couldn't careless about any of that, it was the ornate mirror that hung on the wall above the table that made her stop.

Her reflection actually brought a gasp to her lips. She looked like death. Although, Imogen wished she was actually dead to match the appearance. There were dark circles under her eyes that would put most insomniacs and alcoholics to shame. Her skin was frightfully paler than it already was, giving her the appearance of a ghostly figure instead of a somewhat living and breathing creature. She pouted her lips. There wasn't much to be done at this point, she was halfway to the kitchen. So for the sake of some sort of effort, she gave her cheeks a couple smacks to put some color into them.

Imogen hadn't even noticed until that moment that her hair looked worst than a birds nest. She couldn't help but chuckle at it. Her eyes scanned around until she saw a ribbon tied to some of the dead flower stems. She yanked it free causing the flowers to be decapitated in the jerk. Bringing the ribbon to her lips, she held it there as she started to braid her hair while walking towards the kitchen. Just before Turning down the hallways that leads towards her destination she tied off the messy braid.

As she closed the distance to the kitchen the sounds of her shoes clicking on the floor echoed down the hall. There was no turning back now. Even if she ran off and hid or whatever else, she knew she was heard. Imogen hesitated when she placed her hand on the door. Family gatherings she despised almost as much as time with Sabine... alone. So before she could talk herself out of going, she pushed open the door and entered.

She refused to waste pointless breaths on saying hello or greeting anyone in the room. Imogen didn't even spare a passing glance as she made her way towards the edge of the table, pulling out her seat. As she lowered herself, her hands flipped back the tails of her suit jacket so she did not sit on them. Then she nonchalantly kicked her left foot up onto the table, and crossed the right over it. Imogen entangled her fingers as they rested upon her abdomen. It was only then that her gaze looked up from beneath loose dark curls to fixate on the others. Her right foot began to bounce impatiently as she waited for this damned breakfast to start so it'd be closer to ending.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury Character Portrait: Aedan Huntington
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  1. Edited the post to add Aedan's reaction to Dami! <3

    by FaddedFox

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【"Keep your hands to yourself."】
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【Kitchen -> Dinning area】
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【#00688B】
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Aedan was not surprised to see Indigo already in the kitchen. And she was already fast at work cooking breakfast. Though he didn't need human food, Aedan couldn't help the instant desire for food. The aroma of something cooking in the oven was all he needed to get his mouth watering. He wondered just what she was making this morning. And as per usual, Indigo was a whirlwind all on her own. It was probably best if he left her to her work and stayed out of her way. He would help if required but actively trying to cook would only make more of a hassle. He still wasn't all that great at cooking. He had much to learn. And upon spotting him, Indigo immediately requested he gather some eggs.

"Yes, Ma'am," he answered her with a nod. He turned just in time to see Nicholas coming into the kitchen as well. He gave a wave to the man. "Good morning," Aedan greeted in return before he walked passed the man to proceed with his quest to gather the eggs.

It didn't take long for Aedan to return with the basket of eggs. And it looked like he wasn't the only one that had been relegated to messenger boy. Sabine was in the kitchen as well which meant disaster. Aedan didn't like to be around Sabine but in most other places, he could tolerate the demon as long as he didn't touch him. In the kitchen... in the kitchen Sabine was in the way. He really was. Sabine tried so hard to help but he was usually standing right behind someone which often had Aedan whirling around to snap crankily at the demon or he was just hovering over Nicholas. It looked like Sabine was doing a bit of both. Aedan sighed and did his best to calm his already frayed nerves. It was startling how the thirst made Aedan rather short tempered and cranky about the smallest things. Or maybe that was just Sabine in general. Aedan shook his head as he set the basket down and stiffened visibly when Sabine came up behind him to look at the basket. Sabine was too close and Aedan felt the subtle innocent brush. Oh and if that wasn't enough, he didn't just have Sabine too watch. Damien entered the kitchen then. He hoped the man would just say a hello and go to the table, but Aedan wasn't that lucky. Damien had to all but glomp him and purr is good morning suggestively. Aedan almost jumped clear to the ceiling like a cat running from a dog.

He felt like a prickly pear. This morning was clearly not his morning.

Though he wanted to run away at this point, Indigo wasn't finished with him. She began listing off other things that she needed for the cooking and it was up to him and Sabine to bring her the things she needed. And of course, the two of them nearly collided into each other a few times as they made their way around the kitchen. As the preparation came to an end and it was time to serve the food, Aedan picked up the plates of pancakes and some of the jam that was ready. Might as well start putting the food on the table. And of course, as he began walking, Sabine walked by him and the two of them ended bumping each other and Aedan had to play catch up with the plates he was carrying least they hit the ground and ruin the breakfast Indigo and Nicholas had created. At this point, Aedan's thirst and annoyance were really grating on his nerves.


"Damn it, Sabine! You are in the way!" he growled. "Just go sit down or something!" Aedan took a moment to take a breath and try and release some tension before he headed to the table again and started to set down the food. And wonderful Natalia and Imogen were both at the table. Imogen was a bit more tolerable than Natalia considering he didn't talk to Imogen and she didn't talk to him most of the time. Natalia though... he didn't want to deal with her and he was in no mood for her words.

With a sigh, he scanned the chairs and dropped down towards the end of the table, as far away from Sabine as he could get. That did put him a little close to Natalia and Imogen but there wasn't much he could do about that. At least... he was close to Four. He really wished he knew what his name was. He didn't like calling the mysterious male a number. It was very dehumanizing but that was the only name he had for the little dark cloud. He looked a bit ruffled this morning as well.
"Good morning," he said then to the other quiet male. He glanced very briefly at Damien who was also in the room. It was upsetting that their friendship had ended the way it did. To be polite, he did give him a nod in greeting, somewhat calmer from their earlier encounter. Aedan wasn't above still being somewhat civil to Damien but it was still very obvious that tension had been created between Sabine's Hart and leopard.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury
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【"Bon Appetit. That’s French. Like the toast. Get it?"】
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【Kitchen → Dining Hall】
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【#4B0082】
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Indigo had been busying herself with fetching a few more, less-perishable ingredients from the various cupboards when a familiar voice caught her attention (although, to be fair, every voice was familiar these days). Brightening, she placed a jar of honey upon the closest available countertop, turned on her heel, and placed a hand on her hip and leered.

“There you are! Was wondering if you’d ever show up, ya lazy prick.” Indie’s eyes flashed with light, and, without hesitance, she grabbed a bowl filled halfway with heavy cream and pushed it at Nicholas. “Here, go make yourself useful and whip this up some.” Then, to both of her little cooking crew, even as Aedan made his way out to fetch the eggs- “We’re going fancy today, boys!”

It was made increasingly clear that whatever had gripped Indigo during the past week was gone. She bounced around the kitchen, checking here, stirring there, eventually pulling out the tray from the oven- only to replace it just as quickly. Indigo would sometimes shoot an order or two to her de facto assistants, watching them for a few moments to ascertain that whatever she had asked was being carried out before returning to her own work- or, even less frequently, striding up to them to make corrections. Indigo had tutored Nicholas long enough that such mistakes were rare, but Aedan was still new to the kitchen. Still learning. However, he was making excellent progress, to which she was pleased.

Sabine, however, served to be little more than a distraction. He wandered around the room, occasionally fetching one or two ingredients for the recipe, but mostly just doing what Sabine did best.

Which translated to following around the chefs like a stray mutt, or grabbing at them at the most inopportune of times. Indigo made a noticeable effort to stay out of the demon’s grasp- keeping countertops and chairs and large bowls of mixture between them, and dancing to the other side of the kitchen whenever he came too close for comfort. While she had grown acceptant enough of Sabine’s affections throughout the years, she held little tolerance for him sticking his nose into her baking. It was a delicate art in itself, and any mistake caused would require unnecessary backtracking. Unnecessary wasting of time.

Of course, they had all of the time in the world, but that did not matter.

Eventually, even with the challenge of handling Sabine’s interference, the meal was completed- a fresh stack of french toast sticks, piled high upon the platter Indigo had placed them on. She didn’t quite allow Aedan and the others to bring them out just yet then, however. With the swiftness of someone who had performed the task many, many times, Indigo laid out the sticks on separate plates, stacking them with a neatness she had lacked when gathering them. She spun thin ribbons of honey across the dishes, covering them with a dusting of sugar after. Once that was completed, Indigo placed a dollop of whipped cream aside each stack, upon which sat a lone strawberry.

For whatever could be said about the Pelacour girl, she took great care in her work.

Once the table had been set, Indigo strode into the dining room, not at all surprised by the presence of the other pets. While she hadn’t noticed them gather while preparing breakfast, it was doubtful that Sabine would let them be so easily. Cracking her knuckles high above her head, Indigo grabbed a chair- the next-farthest one she could get, seeing as her other option had been taken- and settled in it with a plop.

“Mornin’,” she said simply, giving a short tip of the hat in the others’ general direction. Without waiting for Sabine’s blessing, Indigo grabbed one of the sticks off her plate, and, after a prompt dip from both the cream and her mug of coffee, she tossed it back into her mouth.


Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury Character Portrait: Aedan Huntington
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【"If only cookies were an acceptable breakfast."】
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【Kitchen and Dining Room】
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【#2C5D3F】
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Nick grinned as Indigo turned her attention to him, (hopefully) jokingly calling him a 'lazy prick.' He took the bowl of cream that was given to him, holding it in one arm as he went to retrieve the whisk from its spot across the kitchen. As he did so, Aedan began to leave to fetch the eggs as Indigo proudly declared that they were going to have a fancy breakfast today. "Shall I get some glasses for champagne as well?" Nick teased, half turning his body so Indie could see him grinning. Turning back around, he removed the whisk from its place and set the bowl down on the counter in front of him.

Damien entered, greeting everyone happily before coming over to Nicholas and greeting him. The dark haired man felt himself warm up a bit at the sound of Dami's purring voice. "Hello to you as well my friend," he replied without turning from the counter or lifting his head. The two hadn't seen each other in days and though the greeting could be taken sarcastically, Nicholas genuinely meant it. As he continued whipping the cream, Sabine, Lonan, and the oh so lovely Nattia entered. He didn't pay any of them much mind, choosing to focus on the task of making whipped cream instead. He continued to move the whisk around in the cream repetitively, occasionally lifting it in order to mix it up a bit more and test its thickness.

Once finished with the whipped cream, he turned to take it to Indigo and was greeted by a hovering Sabine. He hadn't heard the demon come up behind him to peer over his shoulder. Nick jerked back a bit from the shock of having Sabine so close to him. He loved Sabine dearly, but the demon was not one for respecting personal space. "Sabine, could you please move?" Nick asked him gently, as if speaking to a child. "I need to take this to Indie."

"Oh, okay." Sabine took a half step to the side, staring at the contents of the bowl. Nick sighed a bit and stepped around him, taking the bowl over to the head chef. He could hear Sabine following close behind, as if to guard him from the very threatening task of making breakfast.

He continued helping Indie by making what was needed or finishing what she started, doing his best to avoid crashing into Aedan and Sabine as they too danced around the kitchen. Sabine especially was in the way, hovering over Nicholas quite frequently and at times giving him ill timed hugs. There would be time for hugging later, when he wasn't busy trying to prepare breakfast.

At last, the task was complete. The pancakes and french toast smelled wonderful and looked delicious. Nicholas grinned as Indigo quickly set out each plate. It was tempting to take a french toast stick and eat it right then and there, but he didn't want to be impolite. The pets had no need for human food, but the urge to eat it had remained quite strong for Nick even after centuries of being with Sabine. (It briefly occurred to him that it was his hunger for Sabine's blood which caused this, but he'd found himself compelled to eat even a few days after feeding.) Of course, it would be wonderful if they could have cookies and chocolate as a meal. However, he wasn't sure he'd be willing to share so many of his cookies with the other pets. No, he'd much rather offer them one or two and hoard the rest for himself.

Nick removed his apron as Aedan and Sabine departed the room, setting it on the counter behind him. It wasn't long before there was some angry yelling on Aedan's part, as Sabine of course had gotten in the way again. The First made a quick mental note to watch himself around the newest pet, as he seemed to be exceptionally irritated today. Nick shot a quick glance at Indie as she finished up the plates.

After helping Indie to distribute plates to everyone, he took the only open seat. He sat opposite of Indigo and Damien with Maddie on his left. He'd much prefer to be sitting next to Sabine, but Damien and Nattia had already claimed those spots. Oh well, he'd just have to wait until another family meal. Besides, he already knew that he was Sabine's favourite pet. The others could think it was them, but he doubted any of them had a stronger relationship to the demon than himself. Plus, neither Nattia nor Damien had been around as long as he had.

He gave a general greeting to the group after sitting down. The First raised an eyebrow as Indie began eating without Sabine saying anything first. To him, it was rather rude to begin eating without being granted permission. However, this was Indigo and she was not one to follow the rules. He glanced down at his own plate before turning his attention to Sabine, expecting his friend to speak before eating began.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury Character Portrait: Aedan Huntington
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【"My, my… I’m certainly enjoying this cream"】
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【The Manor House Dining Room, Sitting to the Left of Sabine】
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【#15155E】
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The blond at the table pointedly looked away from Natalia, and sadly, by extension, the golden eyed Four sulking in his place. A dreamy smile played about his lips – he did so love Sabine’s hugs. He’d spent hours in the demon’s arms before, enjoying every minute of the time. It wasn’t even too sexual in nature, that was a misconception about Dami. He just really loved affectionate contact, and intimacy happened to be the easiest thing to win from strangers.

His fellow pets did not do much to alleviate his needs.

Still, the chaos he could observe from the kitchen, as well as the yelling coming from Aedan at one point, reminded him they weren’t the best partners to consider anyway but…what other choices did he have? Sighing softly, he rested an elbow on the table and placed his head on his palm. People were settling around him, but Damien had zoned out. Aedan was quite furious this morning, Dami had begun to feel awkward around Nicholas after the…incident, and Four was, well, Four. Translation: Unapproachable as all get out. At least one person was happy to see him – Nicholas had returned his greeting with enough good cheer.

Dami was, by nature, a very dainty person, and how he ate showed it. After taking French toast sticks and an extra, large dollop of whipped cream, he settled back into his place without fuss.


”I love cinnamon,” he commented, smiling at the three cooks. ”Thank you.” as if the choice of meal had everything to do with him. The blond then lifted fork and knife, carefully cutting himself a square of bread before dipping it into the whipped cream and bringing it to his mouth. He quietly observed the rest of the table as they ate, not much included in others’ conversations and not seeing much need to barge in.

Trouble only began once Damien was full.

He’d taken just a bit too much and now a forlorn breadstick lay on his plate beside the depleted, but still plentiful cream. Looking around the table once more, his brown eyes lit playfully as a sly smile touched his lips.

If the trouble had started when he was full, then the others should have noticed when the sixth began to use his hands.

The fingers that had so delicately held utensils nudged the last stick of toast to the center – it was a thick corner piece, perfect for what he had in mind. A quick motion, and all but a small portion at the end was resting in the freshly whipped cream. He turned it to coat thoroughly, buried it in the sweet stuff, and then brought it out, using his fingers to keep it straight. Checking if anyone was watching, Dami began.

The first moan was extremely light – so much that it could be mistaken for a sigh as Dami flicked his pink tongue against the edge of the toast, taking away a small touch of cream. The next was longer, not touching the toast, only skimming along the length where it was overloaded in white to bring some away. He waited until he made eye contact with Nicholas, then pressed his tongue to the underside of the unusually thick piece of bread, slowly dragging over the texture until he’d reached the end, where he coupled pleased noises with light little flicks.

He next waited to catch Aedan’s blues when they chanced look up, twining his tongue over the food as he lapped at the sweetness. Long strokes had deposited whipped cream in the corners of his mouth, and Dami licked his lips with another more audible moan. Only one more to go…

Four, the isolated one, didn’t look up often, but as soon as he did Dami seized the chance. In went the stick, the blond’s cheeks hollowing as he sucked to get the last of the cream out before drawing the toast stick back, teasing the surface with lips and teeth. He was clearly enjoying himself, his sounds being ones of pleasure as he lapped away the lasting remnants of the whipping cream. His eyes lidded but locked onto gold, he brought his fingers to his mouth to clean them off, one by one drawing them away with wet pops.

His performance had been blatantly obscene and he loved it. Dami brought the poor piece of French toast up for another teasing lick.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury Character Portrait: Aedan Huntington
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#, as written by Skwidge
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【”I need some air…"】
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【Second Floor Halls --> Dining Room】
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【#cca31a】
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Ugh, why did Sabine have to smell this way? He wasn’t supposed to smell nice, Lonan wasn’t supposed to like anything about him! He smelled of freshly cleaned laundry, of rose, of… Sabine. Four inhaled quietly against the lower back of the demon’s shirt as he bobbed against the sway of the man’s footfalls. Couldn’t this have waited? For about another few hundred years? Why did Sabine have to do this to him, to make him suffer further? It hadn’t been enough to invade his space, hadn’t been enough to rip him from the first and only peaceful sleep he’d had in months, wasn’t enough to drive the nail in harder about the fact that he was in his life, the fact that Lonan was dependent on him, but now he was being forced to do the one thing he dreaded and avoided at all costs- the other pets? And speaking of which… Natalia. An angry frown flashed across his face at the thought of the redhead in Sabine’s other arm. The frown did no one good save for his own feelings, though- he was still staring down at the demon’s back. Well, there was nothing that could be done now. He would just have to brace himself.

As the trio walked along, windows slowly began to come into view, and with windows came sunlight. It was hellishly bright all of a sudden, especially for a ruffled little bird just pulled out of his dark hole. He honestly didn’t know where to look whenever they passed into the streams of blinding light; it was getting to be very disorienting being held upside-down over the demon’s shoulder, and damn if it wasn’t boring to just stare at the floorboards. He didn’t want to look at Sabine anymore either. But the alternative… Four almost shuddered. Gods forbid he actually have to look at Nattia. He would rather have his eyes burned thoroughly out by the slanted rays of sunlight, or by staring directly at the sun, or by doing it himself with a lighter- than have to look at her.

He quickly busied himself with picking at little threads that stuck out from the back of Sabine’s clothes so that he wouldn’t even have to think about her. Instead he settled back into the lull of Sabine’s consistent steps and breathing. It wasn’t like the walk downstairs was going to take forever, he’d just have to deal. It sure seemed to be taking forever, though. A grumpy little pout tugged mercilessly at his lips as they descended the stairs. At least it wouldn’t be long now. He still wasn’t looking forward to it. Not at all. Even if it did mean getting even a few more inches away from Natalia.

As the trio arrived in the lively kitchen, attention shifted around them, but honestly it didn’t even seem like any of the other pets really noticed Lonan. He was grateful for that, because he was still being carried rather unceremoniously right at that moment. It made him vulnerable and uncomfortable, but they seemed to be busier glancing at Nattia or whatever little jobs they were up to than looking at him. That idea was put to the test when Lonan suddenly felt Sabine’s grip tighten dangerously around his legs as the red snake dismounted and disappeared through the opposite doorway with a flourishing of her skirts- Four could see it around Sabine’s side. It was then that he was being moved, suddenly facing Sabine, held securely under the armpits like some stiff-limbed cat getting a stern talking-to. Sheer ice blues locked onto roiling golds, neither set of orbs flinching in the slightest despite the sugar-laced poison tumbling from those pale pink demonic lips. Four remained resolutely unimpressed under the harsh gaze and words of the demon, but truly only just managed to suppress an uneasy growl at the threat. He knew that Sabine was one-hundred percent serious, and not for lack of past experiences on the topic threatened. It had been… unpleasant to say the least. Whatever would get him out of the man’s grip though- Lonan gave the slightest of grudging nods- imperceptible except to the demon whose entire focus was directly on him- and Sabine finally walked him through the doorway after Nattia into the dining hall. At least those in the kitchen had seemed to miss that little exchange between he and their captor just as they had with their entrance.

Four was suddenly thrust into a chair by Sabine’s hands, the boy wincing as his ass hit the barely-cushioned seat. He leveled a harsh gaze up at the demon, but he was too busy chatting up Three and sealing her fate as Lonan’s prison guard to notice. Irritably narrowed eyes slid over across the table to glare at her before he grumblingly began to get more comfortable in his seat. He would be there for quite some time, after all. He watched as Sabine disappeared back into the kitchen, no doubt to cause trouble as no more than a minute passed before yelling could be heard from the other room, and rolled his fingertips over the wood of the table over and over. It took him all of three seconds as his eyes were wandering during this to realize he was seated directly across from Sabine’s usual chair. His mood soured even further.

It did not take Lonan long to tune out the noises around him, eventually pushing an arm out on top of the table and resting his head on it. He didn’t even bother to take note of the other arrivals, whether by presence or by voice. Instead, he let his eyes gaze about the room grumpily. He tilted his head further into the crook of his arm with a silent breath, sight sliding upwards and sunlight literally catching his orbs. But it did not burn this time. The light came from the window to the vegetable garden... The rays were warm, and gentle, and inviting this time, not harsh and grating like they had been in the hallways. It warmed his skin, soaked straight into him, touching him to the core. It caused his whole form to still to an absolute stop, eyes fixated steadily on the glass panes where the sunlight filtered in through. It really took all Four had not to just give in, to not just knock his chair over and run. Run towards that freedom, that warmth from the sun that seemed to call his name like a siren’s soft, faraway call. To go away, eff the consequences and just never stay. His heart pounded suddenly in his chest, eyes widening and form almost tilting forward. Four’s muscles were tensing, like he really was going to run; forget Sabine, forget the consequences, just run.

Actually, now he really was considering it; he lifted his head and began to sit up a bit straighter, eyes fixated on the door that would lead to freedom, form almost shifting out of his chair when he heard his name called, startling him out of his spell despite the voice being so calm and uneasily soothing. It was almost like it demanded his attention, or… rather, how had it so easily garnered it? He had tuned out all the others… Lonan whipped his head around, towards the voice that was still not familiar to him.

Aedan.

…Certainly it had been because the voice had reminded him that he definitely wasn’t alone in this house. That there were always eyes watching. That he had to maintain his façade. Or at least that was what Four was trying to convince himself of as to why Aedan had so easily tamed his frayed nerves and had broken his spell of unearthly focus. It was because the ‘good morning’ that had been aimed at him was by that unfamiliar voice of their newest house guest. Of course it had caught his attention. A leg jumped slightly in tightly tied but still baggy and loose grey pants, and a hand shifted to his chest in the maroon colored long-sleeved shirt that hid his wrists so easily, but whose v-neck was cut a little low- when he moved his position in that sharp manner to gaze upon he who had addressed him. It was quite apparent that Four had been stolen from his bed, simply by his apparel, which spoke of sleep, but he also had disheveled hair, and as he looked back to Aedan, he ran his hands through it to push his bangs back, quirking an eyebrow. But before Lonan could even think to attempt to say something, the blonde was already looking elsewhere.

Lonan simply blinked those golden eyes of his and instead just settled back into his chair, quickly looking elsewhere as well. With a huff of air, he brought his elbows up on the table and folded his hands in front of his lips, frowning at the far wall. With the shift of where he was looking, though, Four finally noticed that the other pets were finally gathering around the table, taking their seats or settling into them. He hadn’t noticed… there must have been some time missing when he was staring at the windows. He didn’t really care.

It was also only then that he realized there was food now. Indie and the others in the kitchen must have been setting it out- just finishing, actually, as the short little red-head brought out the last plates. It was only then that the scent hit his nostrils, and he took a quiet but deep inhale. It smelled really good, whatever it was. Strange that it had taken him this long to get on top of his surroundings. He was always so careful and on alert. The hunger must be getting to him. Or something. He found he didn’t really care about this either right now.

Four’s plate was set before him, and he finally got to inspect what that smell was coming from. French toast sticks. He picked one up limply between two fingers, inspecting it. This wasn’t toast. How could this abomination possibly be called toast? Nothing about it even slightly resembled the one perfection of the earth. It was soft, and limp, and squishy. Thick. It wasn’t toast. He wanted nothing to do with it. Well… that wasn’t entirely true. It did smell really good… and he was hungry. Granted, hungry for blood, but Lonan still desperately clung to any of the small shreds of humanity that he was humored with. It still wasn’t toast, though. Let that be known.

He started into his food, secretly enjoying the taste of the rare treat he was allowing himself- food cooked by another’s hand- but outwardly he looked fairly normal- a pretty straight face if not plagued with a few hints of irritation. He had ignored the greetings from all of the other pets who had bothered with them, even going so far as to ignore Sabine for the most part. This did mean that all of the pets were here, and that he was out in the open and put on display for the others to look at, but he did his damnedest to ignore as many of them as he could. Lonan only looked up on rare occasion to survey his surroundings and make sure no one was looking his way for too long, but otherwise he took his time eating and sipping at his own hot, bitter drink, his focus resting primarily on that.

Lonan was just about done with his breakfast, or as done as he had decided himself to be, since he wasn’t actually intending to eat everything in the first place, when he leaned forward to take a deep sip of his drink. He thought he had heard something strange from across the table, so he decided to investigate now, eyes flickering upwards from the rim of his cup towards where Dami was sitting. The warm, soothing liquid was just trickling down his throat when suddenly he found himself locked into Damien’s lusty gaze. There was movement below, however, and Four’s eyes immediately darted a few centimeters down to the man’s lips to investigate. He regretted it instantly.

In popped that innocent bread victim, into the warm, undoubtedly wet, confines of Dami’s mouth. Cheeks hollowed, deadly eye contact. Lonan immediately spluttered as soon as Dami had begun the deed, leaving the poor bird doing a spit-take and suddenly stiffening straight as an arrow in his chair, coughing very roughly. His chair had scooted loudly against the dulled wooden floor, shifting about an inch as Four had recoiled. It had taken everything he had not to just drop the mug he held in his hand, instead opting to set it down harshly on the table while bringing up his other arm to cover his mouth as he coughed uncontrollably, attempting to clear his throat of inhaled tea.

Slamming an open palm against the table as he finally got his airways clear, he attempted to throw Dami a deadly glare through slightly watering eyes, but found the man unabashedly sucking off his fingers with pleasured little grunts, eyes half lidded and locked onto the blackbird’s golds once more. As if he hadn’t violated that poor piece of French toast enough, he let his tongue take one more suggestive lick at its tip. Highly uncomfortable now for more reasons than just having made a scene and drawn attention to himself, Four threw his napkin on the table and pushed back from the edge of the wood, immediately getting up from his chair and blatantly walking out on the whole ordeal, cheeks flushing and shoulders tense. Damn, that man had no decency. And having judged from the state of that poor piece of bread, Lonan hadn’t been Damien’s only target. That only caused more agitation in the boy.

He needed some air.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury
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【"Wonder what Dami would do if I started just serving him scrambled eggs for the rest of forever."】
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【Dining Room】
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【#4B0082】
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It hadn’t taken too long for Indigo to finish her own serving, despite the hefty amount she had piled upon her plate. She had, after all, gotten a bit of a head start on the others, and had purposefully eaten as swiftly as possible. While she still enjoyed the pleasure of eating after so many years (perhaps it was just her own natural gluttony, she mused), Indigo had plans for today. To some, having a schedule might seem odd when one had unlimited time at their disposal, but the Owl was an odd one herself. Besides, she wasn’t too fond of the air in the dining hall. It reminded her too much of a group of parakeets, all forced into the same cage and made to get along. Slightly claustrophobic, and noticeably uncomfortable.

Speaking of which.

“Oi, Dami.” Lifting the last french toast stick from her plate, Indigo jabbed it over in the blond’s direction, waving a bit in case she hadn’t drawn his attention initially. "Look, I’m flattered you’ve taken a liking to my cooking there, but, eh...could you stop face fucking the thing like you owe it money? Kind of weird trying to eat while someone’s moaning in my ear. Makes me feel like I’m trapped in some kind of raunchy novel or something.” In one deft movement, she dunked the stick in her mug, tossed it into her mouth, and washed it down with the remainder of her coffee.

“Anyway,” she announced, plunking the emptied cup back onto the tabletop. “I think I’ll be heading out. Ophelia’s still in pretty piss poor shape right now. Need to check and see if she might end up kicking the bucket after all. You guys don’t mind washing up, right? Right.”

Ophelia was one of the goats that Indigo had taken to keeping a few decades ago. A third generation Nubian, the thing had recently given birth, and while the kid was fine (Indigo had decided to name her Cressida), the mother hadn’t been taking the whole experience too well. A few of the more observant pets, however, might have already taken notice of the milk that had been in the kitchen by the time everyone else had arrived, but Indigo didn’t concern herself about that. After all, most of the pets couldn’t really give a damn about what the others were up to.

Most.

Smacking her hat into her preferred angle, Indigo rose from her seat, then made to leave the room.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury Character Portrait: Aedan Huntington
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【"Damn it Damien! Why did you ruin the moment? Again."】
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【Kitchen】
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【#00688B】
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Aedan sighed to himself as he got situated in his seat. He was looking forward to breakfast. The smell of the food made him hungrier though he knew what he was really hungry for but he wanted to delay that just a little bit longer. He didn't want to ask Sabine for blood right now. Maybe it was a bit of pride, but Aedan hated asking for things. Especially when he wasn't alone. He'd just have to find Sabine alone later and see if he could get some blood. For now, he would let the delicious food on the table distract him from his real needs and keep his mind off the other pets. He didn't want to get involved in any arguments or discourse. He just wanted to eat and go on his way. He hoped Sabine didn't decide that this was going to be a family day or something. He wouldn't be able to handle it if they all had to be together the whole time. It was too overwhelming for Aedan. He gave a small wry smirk at that thought. Too overwhelming to be around a group of people? How strange he had become considering he never had a solitary moment before all of this. He had always been with the men and training or in town. And now he was overwhelmed by a tiny group of people. He really had changed.

The soldier put those thoughts away as he reached over to grab some of the toast in his plate and used a knife to smother each stick with some of the frosting and poured coffee in his own cup to begin the amazing breakfast in front of him. He successfully began to ignore the others as he busied himself with eating. He was surprised how tame breakfast actually was. He knew that none of them really got along so he had expected some sort of fight from the get-go so it was nice to see they could act a little civilized for the get together, his own outburst not withstanding. He hadn't yelled at the pets after all, just Sabine for nearly making him drop said breakfast.

Aedan was just reached over for some more French toast when he started to hear something out of place. Moaning? Why would anyone be moaning at the table? That didn't sound like 'I am going to be sick' moaning. The new pet lifted his gaze from his plate briefly but did a double take, his eyes suddenly glued to the scene. His eyes widened in surprised and the toast he had grabbed with his fork dropped into his plate forgotten as he watched Damien's indecent display. His mouth hung open as the other blond licked at the toast while he made his sounds of pleasure, his fingers wiping at the cream on the corners of his mouth. He couldn't believe what he was seeing or hearing. The moans were really what got him. Damien made convincing noises and he felt a bit of tightness at the sounds which immediately made him more uncomfortable with the situation. He shouldn't have looked up.

Number Four's sudden chocking brought him out of his own stupor and he tore his gaze away from Damien's lips. He was feeling sick to his stomach and uneasy. He watched as Four rushed away from the table and Indigo scolded Dami for his display, not that it would have really changed anything. Lately Damien was becoming more and more uncomfortable to be around. It really wasn't that he hated Damien but his displays of homosexuality... they were hard to watch and it made Aedan hate being in his skin. Blatant displays made him angry and upset and jealous. He hadn't been allowed to show any love outside of his room towards his lover and just a mention of his affections had ended up with torture and death and here Damien was... Damien was flaunting it like it didn't matter. That rules didn't matter. He could be as free as a bird with it and it hurt that he couldn't be that way and any touch now brought anger and hurt. It only reminded him of the internal fire that had brought him into this situation in the first place and how a caress had turned into a knife. And the worst part was that Damien's moans had managed to turn him on a little bit. He loathed his bodily reaction to it and berated himself. Nothing would come out of this but more pain.

Aedan got out of his chair and grabbed the empty plates and hurried off to the kitchen to get out of the room. He needed to be out of the room. It felt suffocating to be surrounded by everyone. He would have preferred to just go outside and get some air but maybe doing the dishes would get his mind off of his feelings and what he had seen. The soldier filled the basin with water and started to scrub the dishes far harder than he needed to to clean them. It was a miracle the plates didn't break he was holding them so hard. All the while Damien was in his head, fueling his frustration with the situation. And here he thought they could have a civilized breakfast. He should have known better. At least he wasn't thinking about Sabine and his blood. Well at least until that thought just crossed his mind. Aedan dropped his head forward and just stared into the soapy water, doing his best to keep the tears at bay. So much had changed, he didn't want to be a cry baby to. He had already cried far more than he would ever admit to anyone. He wanted to at least keep up the pride he had had as a soldier.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury Character Portrait: Aedan Huntington
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#, as written by mjolnir
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【"Fuck you... Fuck this place. Fuck life."】
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【Dining Room】
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【#7e4393】
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The whirlwind of cooking and whatever else that was going on inside the kitchen made Imogen more content in her current location. Of course she had no desire to be within a mile of this group, but here she was. It wasn't like she had a choice. A prison without bars but a prison none the less. It was either she came willingly or she'd have to tolerate the touch of that disgusting lecher.

She hardly spared a glance to any of the commotion of the joining members or anything else. Her gaze was fixated on the table cloth while she mindlessly toyed at her lace gloves. Imogen tried not to visibly wince as she plucked the fabric from her slowly healing wounds. The blood was attempting to coagulate with the fabric and each tug reopened any attempts at a scab. It was annoying and no doubt ruining her gloves. It'd be easier just to take them off, let them heal with the fresh air, but she didn't need Sabine's gaze to fall upon them. She was in no mood for a lecture and hoped he stayed preoccupied with the ass licking pets and left her alone.

When a plate was set down before her it shut off Imogen's train of thought. Her brows furrowed while her nostrils flared at the sight. She stabbed a piece of the floppy bread, lifting it as if to expect it.
"Is there any food under all this fucking sugar?" Imogen mumbled to herself while her face blatantly showed her disgust. She picked up her knife and quite the opposite of everyone else in the room she scraped whatever the fuck was on the french toast off as much as possible before placing it between her lips and taking a bite. The lingering taste of honey and whipped cream tainted the food making her frown as she ingested it. "What happened to eating French Toast like normal people... With syrup?"

Instead of attempting to eat another piece of overly sugar smothered bread, Imogen snatched up the strawberry that rested in the pile of whipped cream. Just as she placed the fresh fruit between her lips and had sunken her teeth into its juicy plump redness she heard a moan come from the opposite side of the table. Her eyes shifted to glance to her left all the way down to the other end of the table, her body frozen in its current pose. The sight was appalling and disgusting. It made Imogen become tense and drop the berry onto her plate.

Lonan's shocking outburst and coughing fight shook her mind free from the sight. She watched him leave as the lingering revelation of what she just witnessed turned the already unstable contents of her stomach into knots. Imogen shoved her plate away from her as she swung her legs off the table. She stood up, kicking her chair backwards with so much force she knocked it over.
"Well I lost my fucking appetite."

Imogen stormed her way out of the dining room, mumbling to herself
"Disgusting fucking whore... Who does that at breakfast... Oh, right. These fucking pricks." She slammed the door harder than what was necessary and walked down the hall with a mad fury. Her stomps where loud and echoed off the walls. She needed air and distance and didn't have the patience to find the fucking door outside. She bee lined for the first set of large bay windows, unlocked them and through them open. She pressed her hands on the insides of the window as she stepped up onto the ledge and hopped down the four foot drop, landing in the garden. Imogen trudged her way through until she was a good twenty or so yards from the manor. She then plopped her ass down in the grass. She yanked off her gloves and tossed them into the wind before letting herself fall backwards on the grass with a sigh.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury Character Portrait: Indigo Pelacour
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#, as written by slcam
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【"Our dear Deer, what a laughingstock."】
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【On Sabine’s right, leering like a fiend】
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【#881309】
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Dami was already at the table, but Nattia soundly ignored him. She slumped forward, her head held up in one hand, as she glared out the window. It was hardly proper table etiquette, but she was too nettled to care. Even when Sabine carried Four into the room, firmly placing the sullen boy in a chair, she barely gave Sabine a thin smile before she was returning Four’s glare, tapping a staccato beat on the table with well-manicured fingertips.

Though she rarely missed a chance to exchange venomous taunts and thinly-veiled glares with Imogen, Nattia only glanced at her as she entered. She heaved a sigh when the saturnine woman rudely heaved her feet onto the table, but was too busy pointedly ignoring Lonan to nag Imogen about it. In any case, these rare household gatherings were a good opportunity to glower at everyone equally, to make sure they all knew they were still in her bad graces. There would be time to spat with Imogen later.

At the shouting from the kitchen, Nattia finally straightened from her sulky slump. She wondered at the short ruckus, but soon dismissed it. Conflict was by no means rare in this household. Still, she was getting bored, which boded well for no one. At last, the last few pets trickled into the room as the table was set with sugary French toast. She regarded each of them coolly. Aedan entered, sitting across from her and next to Four. He greeted the morose little soot bird, but didn’t give Nattia a second glance.

A scowl deepened on her features, but her pout was interrupted when the ever-energetic Indie bounded into the room. She hardly sat down, giving a general greeting, before she stuffed one of the French toast sticks into her mouth. Natalia rolled her eyes at the girl’s blatant lack of manners, even as Nicholas joined them. He greeted the group as well, but Nattia only raised her brows and scoffed at the useless gesture, instead turning her attention to Sabine with a warm smile.

When everyone was settling into eating, she took up her utensils, cutting dainty bites out. Though her expression never betrayed it, she was very much enjoying the breakfast. At least Indigo was useful for something. Imogen mumbled, obviously disgruntled about how sugary it was, and Natalia responded with a smirk, shoveling an unladylike amount of cream on her next bite and eating it with relish. She delicately dabbed her lips with a napkin before moving her sneer back to the rest of the table.

Nattia finished one stick and was just beginning on the other when she noticed the disturbance moving around the table. She paused with the fork midway from her plate as she noted the odd, lewd moans proceeding from the other side of Sabine, out of her view. Four gave several dramatic, choking coughs and Aedan’s previous glazed stare transformed into a look that seemed almost furious. Nattia craned to look around, catching Dami’s last few licks at a now rather ravaged piece of French toast. It was no wonder everyone on that side of the table looked so green. Dami, on the other hand, seemed rather pleased with himself.

Four dashed out, seeming rather off-balance. Aedan soon followed, covering his disgust more gracefully by hastily grabbing empty dishes on his way out. Both Indie and Imogen scolded the lewd man with strongly worded rants, each following Lonan’s example and fleeing when finished. That was quite the mass exodus if she had ever seen one.

She raised any eyebrow, turning to glance at Sabine, wondering how the oblivious demon would take all this. She turned in her seat until she could level a mocking smirk at the Dami.

“How dreadfully obscene,” she said, a measure of amusement in her tone.

Nattia smoothed her fingers against her napkin, breathing deeply to force down the threat of bubbling laughter caused by the suddenness of all the dramatic reactions. The room was suddenly much less crowded, which lightened her mood. Dami did have his ways, she supposed.

“Well, at least our special Dami had his fun ruining everyone’s breakfast. Didn’t you, dear?” she said, her tone honeyed and cloying.

She leaned forward to fleer across at the man. Despite her words, she lifted her fork to her mouth, nonchalantly eating her last delicate piece of French toast. She kept eye contact, her expression as derisive as her words and laugh had been. Perhaps she could even get a rise out of Dami, if she was lucky.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury Character Portrait: Aedan Huntington
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【"I didn't know French toast could be so sexual."】
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【Dining Room, to the left of Maddie】
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【#2C5D3F】
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Nicholas was quite happy with the results of the kitchen crew's work. Of course, it wasn't hard to please him when sweet food was involved. He was content to eat with his fingers, dipping his French toast sticks into the whipped cream to coat them with a generous amount before taking a bite. He had settled for water instead of coffee, taking a sip from his glass in between sticks. Some things just never changed, even after centuries.

The First had two French toast sticks left on his plate when the breakfast took a rather unexpected turn. He had just taken a bite of one of them when he heard an soft moaning coming from Damien. Looking towards his friend, he was met with twinkling brown eyes and Dami's tongue slowly licking the underside of the helpless piece of food. Nicholas stopped mid-chew, frozen in place. The moaning continued as he continued his display of... affection towards the French toast stick before looking to Aedan and then Lonan. Had that really just happened? Despite being uncomfortable with the whole display, he couldn't help but continue to watch until the very last finger was licked clean.

The bite of French toast was still in his mouth and upon realizing it was there he quickly swallowed it. He could feel his cheeks were warm, having turned red from the situation. Thankfully, he was not the center of attention as Four had begun choking, followed by him slamming a hand on the table and leaving without a word. Nicholas looked down at his plate as Indigo admonished Dami before dismissing herself. Glancing to the other end of the table at Imogen as she left he noted that Aedan had departed as well.

He scooted his chair in towards the table so that there was barely any space between it and himself, inwardly cringing a bit with each scraping noise the legs made against the floor. As awkward as it was to admit, Damien's performance had caused his body to react in the way expected when one heard lustful moans accompanied by sexually suggestive imagery. Memories of his wife had returned and though they were brief, they certainly didn't help. Nicholas was in no position to be dismissing himself lest he have Nattia smirking at him, Sabine questioning him, and Dami having the satisfaction that the display had successfully affected him both mentally and physically.

Looking at his plate as he resumed eating, albeit slower than before, thoughts began to scramble in his brain. He was confused enough as it was about his sexuality and this didn't help. As he thought about his hidden romantic feelings towards Damien, his wife, and the things he'd been taught about homosexuality, he continued to eat. He heard Nattia speaking but didn't really process the words, not that it was likely to be beneficial to him anyways. The usually self possessed pet seemed to be in an emotionless trance, lost in thought and resembling Four more than himself.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Nicholas Sartre Character Portrait: Lonan Auraxtin Character Portrait: Sabine Cayne Character Portrait: Natalia Catherine Estbury Character Portrait: Aedan Huntington
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【"Umm, am I doing it wrong?"】
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【At the table, seated next to Aedan】
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【#FB37CD】
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By the time Madison had finished getting cleaned up for breakfast and arrived in the dining hall, most of the others had already taken their seats, save for the ones that were in the kitchen preparing the meal. Her nostrils were assailed with the scent of cinnamon, and she couldn't help but quirk a little grin. It was a lovely, soothing smell, almost enough to alleviate the tension she could feel all across the room.

She quietly took a seat next to Aedan, giving him a slight nod as she sat. She didn't bother starting a conversation, the two had only spoken briefly in times past, and she didn't want to make breakfast more awkward than it already was. When the food was brought out, the reactions differed from pet to pet. Some were concerned with the amount of sugar the meal consisted of, but it hardly mattered to her. It was sure to be a treat, and with their immortality, she had a life time to work off any weight the excess sugar might entail.

She gingerly cut into one of the sticks as the others started eating, using her fork to dunk the bread into the cream before taking her first bite. It was delicious, more so than she had expected. She savored the flavor for a long moment, chewing slowly before swallowing. She glanced at Sabine several times during the meal, just to see how he was holding up. It wasn't uncommon for him to slip into another mood so soon after coming out of his previous one, and she worried.

As she took a small drought of her coffee, she heard something unusual for the breakfast table. It sounded like, moaning? She glanced over to Dami, seeing him behaving in a way she'd never seen before. He brought the food to his mouth, smothered in cream, and licked at it tantalizingly, while keeping his eyes locked on some of the other pets. As his display continued, she looked down to her fork and knife. Was she eating her toast the wrong way? She had only assumed that using utensils was common place for the sticky sweets they enjoyed, but perhaps Dami was the most cultured out of them. She assumed his moans were more akin to the flavor as opposed to anything sexual. Perhaps he was doing this to let the chefs know how good their craft was.

Immediately, she felt as though her method of eating was the wrong way. She hefted the last chunk of her toast with her hand, dunking the piece in it's entirety into the mug of cream. Heaps of cream spewed over the edges and coated her fingers, and she brought the monstrosity from the mug, copying Dami by keeping it propped upright with her other hand. She opened her mouth wide, unsure as to whether she would be able to eat that much at once, but she stuffed as much of the cream coated bread into her mouth as she could. She helplessly gnawed off the enormous bite, her cheeks puffed out like a squirrel storing food for the winter.
"Mmmm! Mmmm!" she groaned enthusiastically through her maw full of food. She didn't want the other pets to think she wasn't enjoying her meal, that would have been rude. She managed to chew and swallow the tremendous bite, and offered Dami another glance. By this point, he was licking his fingers clean, one by one. Following suit, she licked her fingers clean from the excess cream, ignoring the napkin that lay folded neatly next to her plate.

At this point, several of the others had some sort of reaction to Dami's display, and she wondered if Dami was doing it wrong, for the reactions seemed to be mostly in disgust. As Aedan got up to leave, her face immediately flushed red. She buried her hands in her lap, ignoring the cream still lingering in the webs. She bowed her head to hide her shame. Had she just made a complete fool of herself?

Pushing away from her spot at the table, she gathered as many dishes as she could carry, and scurried away to the kitchen, keeping her head hung low, her face still a bright red from her antics in an attempt to be socially correct among the other pets.