I will send EVERYONE who reblogs AND likes this a request to hunt with the Winchesters from Dean’s POV (if you want it in someone else’s let me know, I’ll do whoever)
everyone.
assassins-blood-templars-beliefs started following you
assassins-blood-templars-beliefs:
Haytham allowed her to speak her words as he circled, never changing his gait or his speed with which he used the opportunity to examine every part of her thoroughly. As she finished, he carried on with his movements, using the opportunity to consider the words that she spoke to him until he eventually emitted a low, dark chuckle in response. “Well then, Darck, you are very much mistaken if you believe I would tell you where I would strike. If you are a monster hunter, you would know better than that,” he muttered quietly, moving around her.
This time as he came full circle, he stopped directly in front of her. “You’re right. I could walk away. Why should I be so interested in someone who already knows everything about me, hm?” The corner of his lips quirked upwards into a devious smirk. “I care little for what you believe would scare me. Although I appreciate the sentiment that you are a monster hunter, and thus you have certainly found a monster in this case.”
Maybe Darck was too confident in her abilities, or maybe she was getting reckless. She wasn’t even taking a defensive stance, not worried one bit. I anything, it seemed she was waiting for him to attack. Maybe lacking a heart beat had made her have less self preservation. “I’m just taking a wild guess, a stab in the dark if you will… That was a bad pun, even for me.”
Slowly, the brunette tilted her head from left to right, her body beginning to lean with it. Almost shifted, yet not moving from where she stood. Feet planted firmly to the ground. “Haytham. You are no monster. Not by my standards. You are still considered a man. A rather… Driven man… But no monster. And that is coming from a monster.”
Your muse walks in on my muse undressing and catches the various scars along their body. What is your muses reaction? What do they do?
(( that’s a lot of fucking scars dude. Even more for some other muses out there. You wanna traumatize someones muse? ))
Sit down and help himself he did. He poured the wine into the glass, and sat down. A chair, a glass of wine, and a view of the landscape outside. He supposed that he had most of the comforts of home now.
It’d been quite some time since he’d had idle conversation with anyone. He had many questions to ask Darck, but at the same time he knew that Darck probably had many questions for him as well. There was only so much one could find out by walking about the Castle, even with permission to do so.
His own curiosity got the better of him, so he had to ask. “I’d much desire to hear more about what it is that you do when you aren’t visiting the castle. I don’t believe I’ve ever discussed this topic with you.”
The brunette never usually was one to pry. After all, she was a creeper. She found the answers to her own questions in silence. Most people did not like answering some personal questions.
She continued to fiddle around her kitchen, pulling out a jar of Elderberry jam, and white bread. Her head turned, glancing back towards the Count .That’s right. She never did tell about about Hells Pit… And for good reason. She had vaguely said some things, but never detail.
So, when she finished putting her elderberry sandwich together, she took a seat on the other side of the table. “I work, of course.” Darck responded, taking a bite out of her snack. She was silent until she swallowed, and spoke up again. “I do paper work, keep an eye on the men I lead, and make sure they are safe. I am the leader of an organization known as Hells Pit. I’m sure I’ve said little on the subject with you.”
He hadn’t intended to offend her, but he couldn’t help being a bit wary. “Forgive me, my dear. It isn’t often that I receive such gifts. The last gift I received was the new set of clothes you’d given me…” he pointed to himself to show that he was in fact wearing them. “… before that I believe the last gift I had received was from Adrian on the father’s day before he became rebellious.” He stopped himself there, realizing he was rambling a bit at that point.
After that of course, he’d become used to receiving offerings, tributes, or deals, but never gifts. He did as she said, and opened the bottle. “Have you any glasses? Perhaps now is an excellent time to sit and have idle chatter, since I’ve no duties to attend to.” He was actually sort of relieved to hear himself say that. He actually had time to talk about things that didn’t involve warfare, upkeep of the castle, Belmonts, or any other troublesome thing.
“Well then… Gifts better become more common around you.” Slowly, the brunette relaxed, letting her arms return to her sides. As she wasn’t wearing her trench coat right now, they just hang there, lazily. So used to going into the pockets of her jacket. But without those, they had to slip into those black pants of hers.
Right, the glasses. She pondered for a moment, trying to thing if she had any wine glasses. “Hm… I believe I have just a few. I don’t usually use wine glasses, nor even drink wine. But a conversation is always welcome.” With that, she turned and walked to the kitchen, going through a couple shelves. Trying to find what she was looking for. And after a couple of clinks, she managed to remove a shining wine glass, and set it at the kitchen table that was next to the window, showing the wild woods and mountains in the night. Fully expecting the Count to sit down and help himself. While she herself began to try and find herself something to snack on.
Mother? What? She most certainly was not his mother! Really, he should be the one watching after her! He much desired to correct her, but at the moment he wasn’t exactly in the position to start that conversation, and it would have to be a discussion they would have at another time.
Instead, he accepted the bottle, which did indeed look familiar to him. He almost wondered if it was something he had gifted to her before…
“I’ve two favorite drinks, my dear. One of them is wine, the other is the blood type of AB-. Since the latter is rather rare, I can only assume that— Wait a moment.” he inspected the bottle for a few moments.
“This isn’t the bottle of AB- that I gave to you as a gift, is it?”
Darck looked almost hurt from that comment, and put both hands on her hips. Staring him down intensely behind her sunglasses. “I’m offended. I already finished that gift. I however still have the bottle, safely tucked onto a shelf in my private collections. Of which no one gets inside.”
She stepped forward, lifting one hand and prodding the Count’s chest. “It is wine, I assure you. Aged perfectly. Now sit down and enjoy it. I personally feel like grabbing my self something with Elderberry on it.”
He knew that she mean well with that statement, but the irony of what she said was not lost on him. In fact, for a moment when she’d said he was the same man, he’d almost thought she meant that she’d prefer calling him Mathias, until she elaborated and said that to her he was still the Count. It almost caught him off guard for a moment.
“I suppose you’re right. Even without my castle, or the Crimson Stone, I am still the Dark Lord of the Night. Walter could never take my place, even with those things in his possession!” He’d begun to grin again, for she’d just restored a bit of his bruised ego.
Well that did the trick. However.. .Darck couldn’t let him get TOO full of himself. Not yet at least. “Exactly, Count. You’re still the same king of the night. The same man I will have no problem slapping around if he doesn’t listen. Like a proper mother that I am.” She teased.
But after she spoke, one hand reached into a shadow on the wall, and pulled out a familiar looking bottle. “I believe this is your favorite drink. I figured I should make you more comfortable, so why not get you this.”
