Bound To Happen

faux blo0d

black witch
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per day
  2. One post per day
Writing Levels
  1. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Transgender
Genres
Magic, Scifi, Fantasy, Romance
This is a private thread between blackbl00d & soyrezo

no posting

but please follow along...
 
“Papa!” His shriek could be heard throughout the penthouse apartment, fully occupied by tired vampires waking up for the day. No doubt he’d woken a more than a few in his fear and anger. Mael collapsed onto his bed in a heap as he eyed the suitcases that had been packed for him, sitting outside of his door dauntingly. They laughed at him, full of his clothes and precious items. His blonde hair pooled about him like molten gold, and he squeezed his blue eyes shut as if to will them closed. He had a hope that when he opened his eyes they would be gone; and this all a bad dream. Truthfully, he had feared this day for quite a long time, but he didn’t really expect it to come. His fathers were kind and doting, as they had been since he had been turned fifty years ago at the age of eighteen after finding him as a mere dumpster infant. For reasons he couldn’t think of, Mael was now being thrown out onto his ass in order to live on his own.

Live on his own? Ha. He could barely spend a full week in his own room. True to form, since he had been made by both his fathers Xavier and Addison, Mael was unconditionally attached to his makers. At least once a month he would crawl into bed between them and spend his days there, lounging and sleeping soundly in the arms of either one of his dads. Every day they told him how much they loved him, unconditionally… but this didn’t seem like love to him.

His two best friends, Harriet and Lilly, skidded to a halt in the hall with wide eyes. Not because of the suitcases, of course, but because of the shriek that had sounded through the house. Since the truce between werewolves and vampires, there had been no attacks - but with Mael, you truly never knew. He had a habit of getting into trouble with the local pucks, shifters, and everything in between. His mouth would often get the better of him, whether it was vocal or… otherwise.The last time they’d heard a shriek like that, a werepanther’s girlfriend had climbed through the window and busted the two of them tangled in some sheets.

Instead, to their profound joy, they only found Mael pouting atop his lush bed. His broad shoulders were hunched, and while he was still in his sleep pants, his bare chest jumped with hidden sobs. They quieted their giggles, and instead grabbed Mael’s plethora of luggage and began hauling it downstairs to the awaiting car.

It’s not as if Xavier and Addison had left him homeless. In fact, they purchased a lovely mansion just outside of the city for him to get his bearings. Start a new branch of the hive, train and add to the numbers. Mael was to be the Lord of his own Hive - and he was absolutely dreading it.

He rose from his bed, abs rippling beneath his pale golden skin as he did so, and he grabbed a sweater from the place where it hung over the plush chair Addison used to sit in his newly made days, answering all of his questions.The soft cotton caressed his skin as he slipped the henley shirt on and slipped on a pair of leather oxfords, not bothering to change into a pair of jeans and instead, keeping on his perfectly tailored sleep pants. The girls had already taken his things out to the car, so he only grabbed the last bag of things from his bathroom and sulked down the hallway to the elevator.

Upon the last ding, Mael walked through the door to the first level of the apartment building and glared at his fathers, who stood at the door. Addison was dressed as if her were at a wake. Funny, since he had been a piece of this decision in the first place. Mael’s piercing blue eyes stared through the both of them for a moment before he approached, his full lips pursed as he prowled toward both of his parents. He eyed the car parked outside, and his face fell without his own permission. His eyes widened and rimmed with silvery tears as he looked both of his father’s in the face and dropped his bag, clasping Addison’s hands in his own.

True to knowing how the system worked, he held Addison’s hands to his chest and sniffled, letting a single, silver tear slide down his cheek.

“Please, daddy, don’t make me go…” Mael's eyes brimmed more with tears as he looked at Addison, who desperately looked to his husband and mate, still gripping his soft and lithe hands with white knuckles, reaching out to caress Mael's cheek. "I can't possibly be apart from you both." He turned to Xavier, releasing Addison to hold his hands out to Xavier.


"Papa... please..." Mael let his lips turn into a little frown, his lip quivering in an oscar winning performance. "I'll be hopeless without you."
 

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Xavier's son stood before him, a mess of trembling jaw and tear brimmed eyes with slumped shoulders and uncharacteristically frail looking. He could hardly believe how quickly the years had passed, how Mael had gone from a wee babe to a fully fledged vampire under he and his husband's careful eye. Perhaps they had spoiled the boy too much, but how often was a vampire blessed with the opportunity to raise a child as their own? Mael had been the light of their life, the apple of their eye, and wanted for absolutely nothing. Over the years he had grown into a handsome, albeit terribly defiant, young vampire. And now it was time he fledged. Xavier could still remember the first night he came into their lives, snuck in just under sunrise by Addison, swaddled in a most expensive scarf.

"Addison, what do you have?"

"Nothing Xavi. It's a...cat. Another cat."

That first cry could have woken the dead, and the dramatics hardly ceased since. Xavier wouldn't have traded them for the world.

"Mael, my sweet boy. It is time you moved on. You are so strong and capable. You need room to grow and find your wings," Xavier smiled and rubbed his thumb over sharp cheekbones. "We're not sending you to the New World. You're less than an hour away, dove." He could see his words were falling on deaf ears and he sighed, pressing a cool kiss to the crumpled forehead and gently urged their son into the waiting town car.


"Damien!" a voice bellowed through the hotel. Idle bystanders scattered and Garrett's heavy footsteps rattled the floor as he stormed down the hall. The alpha had received word of his son's most recent antics--some rather gruesome business in a pixie bar in the southside. Only two things were to be found in pixie bars; strippers and gambling. Knowing his son he'd likely gone for both and somehow ended up in a brawl that not only destroyed the building but maimed more than one dancer and killed a rather ancient Golem who had been a bouncer for that particular establishment for years. Worst yet? He'd had to read about it in the paper.

The irate alpha didn't bother to knock on the door of his son's ensuite. Rather with one hard kick threw the door open, hanging barely by its hinges. There was some scrambling in the bed as whatever creature he'd drug home with him covered themselves quickly. Since the proverbial coming out of the supernatural, Chicago had become home to all sorts of wayward fae and supernatural beings. The city had always been a hub of activity, and once they'd dispatched the stronghold the Civalli clan had held for over a century it had meant open borders and safe haven. Much to Garrett's chagrin. But he was not in the business of politics and securing borders. He was much too feral and unceremonious a creature. He left that business up to Maddox and the local hive with whom they'd struck a tentative truce.

"Top of the evening to you, Father," Damien yawned as he sat up, stretching his broad, muscular form. The young wolf was flippant in a way only an alpha dared be, moreso than any of his half dozen siblings would ever even consider. But Damien was born to be his father's successor. He had been trained in leadership and combat more brutally and relentlessly than any of the pups. Now there was peace, however tentative, and a restless young alpha raised in military training craved nothing more than war. So he had a propensity to make his own.

Damien dodged the wadded up newspaper chucked at his head, spotting the headline of the frontpage as it landed on the floor. "Ah, yes, about that. Not my fault the house cheats. I just wanted my fair share of winnings." The red color in his father's cheeks gave him mild concern for stroke or aneurysm. Not that werewolves were particularly prone to such maladies, but it wouldn't be the first time Garrett had told Damien he'd drive him to an early grave. He stood from the bed, unabashedly naked and taking a cigarette from his pack by the bed. Damien gathered clothes as he smoked, pulling on a pair of jeans and tossing the slinky number his bedpartner had been wearing onto the sheets she was still currently hiding under.

Without shirt or shoes, he followed his father out of the doorway, a cocky smirk on his lips as he watched the alpha pinch the bridge of his nose and mutter under his breath. "Damien, wolves are meant to maintain natural order. Not create chaos wherever they go!" Garrett scolded. Damien rolled his eyes dramatically and ashed his cigarette haphazardly onto the carpet as they walked towards the conference room that served as his father and beta's office.

"Dad, we're not running wild in Yosemite or the moors of Scotland anymore. This is modern age. Wolves maintain nothing anymore. I'm not some ecological messiah!" He ignored his father's growl as he shoved past him into the conference room and went to the Keurig in the corner, happily brewing himself a cup of coffee and nodding his greetings to James. The beta chose not to return the greeting, having also seen the morning's paper and heard his alpha's tantrum.

Garrett sat down in his chair and motioned to the city map on the wall. "That may be, but we still must provide balance. There's a new hive established in Irving Park. Xavier and Addison's fledgling." It was easy to keep tabs on the vampires--after all their central Chicago territories overlapped. But Irving Park was out of their boundaries. And a young, fledgling vampire would be impulsive and greedy. "I want you to check it out. And ONLY check it out. No fights. No squabbles. No declaring war. It'd be better if they didn't even know you were there," his father said pointedly, knowing his son's preferred guns blazing style.

"I'll be but a fly on the wall," Damien grinned. He dropped his cigarette into a half empty coffee cup that was laying about and took a loud sip of his scalding hot brew. With a half hearted salute to his father and Beta, he turned heel and left the conference room. It sounded to him like his father wanted him to infiltrate the newest hive. Right? He always did love a good disguise.
 
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Mael could hardly keep the look of petulance off of his face as he was ushered to the car awaiting him, tinted all black. Lilly opened the door for him, grabbing him by his soft, cool hand, and pulling him inside. Well, this was it then. He crossed his arms - the picture of a stubborn, spoiled child being sent off to boarding school - and looked toward his parents. They stood in the threshold of the doorway, and Addison raised a hand to bit his son farewell. Mael couldn't help but let his face fall, blowing a kiss to both his fathers and trying out a sad, sad smile.

As the car smoothly started forward, the blonde vampire huffed and leaned back into his seat, digging in his go bag to find the dossier's that his father had given him. From there, he handed one to each of the girls. The new Queens of the Hive. As nice as it was to be running his own, Mael was the least excited about having to turn anyone. He had been forced to turn Lilly and Harriet, but only because his father insisted on him having loyal friends and confidants, if not lovers. To their dismay, he held no physical attraction to them despite all of the mid morning spooning. Instead, he would give the girls subjects to worship them - and in turn, him. He was, after all, the Creator. His say would be the last, and final, despite who amongst them had changed whom.

"Pick only those worthy of serving the Hive. No riff raff, criminals, you know the type." He waved a hand as the girls greedily began flipping through the pages. "If you desperately need a bad boy, pick a junkie. At least their addictions go away after they've been turned." Mael rolled down the window of the car, digging into the pocket of his sweater to pull out a metal cigarette case and gently pluck one from the middle. He lit it, exhaling the smoke and watching it cloud the city before him.

In the past few years, vampire numbers remained relatively stagnant, and his father's hive wanted to expand, or at least start. So, they began doing the unthinkable as far as vampires were concerned. Xavier began to take interviews. Only the willing, able bodied, and most loyal were allowed to enter their ranks. And before they knew it, being one of the vampires that entered the ranks of the Chicago hive became a fashion statement - a leap in status. Which meant the three fledgling vampires had to be... excruciatingly picky. That was part of the reason he'd picked Harriet and Lilly to turn. They were rich, well-known, and frankly some of the most shallow women he had ever had the pleasure of meeting. He loved them for it.

As the city began to disperse, Mael rested an arm on the armrest and leaned toward the window, watching as the city turned to trees and nicely paved roads. Funny, there were even stars here. Moments later, the black car pulled up to a stop in front of a large, lavish looking mansion. All of the lights were lit, welcoming and invited. He barely had to wait a second until the door opened wide, and a smartly dressed - human - butler greeted him with a tilt of his lips.

"Master Mael, we've been expecting you. Ladies." The other door opened, and apparently Mael was receiving a staff along with his promotion to Hive Leader. With a grunt of approval, Mael let himself out of the car and noticed the trunk was already open. Wonderful. He smiled and nodded at the butlers, turning to look at the girls who were already greedily eyeing the mansion.

"Well. First a tour. And if I'm not mistaken our interview's start in two hours. The night is young, girls, let's start making some vampires." He smiled, his canines flashing mischievously as the three of them looped arms and hurried into the massive house, giggling all the way.
 
As it would turn out, the new hive was all anyone in the both the supernatural and human worlds were talking about. Damien had finished dressing and made his way down the street to one of his favorite haunts--a particularly divey establishment that catered to just about anyone with a rap sheet and a bad attitude. He strolled in and immediately his face lit up at the sight of a particularly graceful, languid figure behind the bar.

"Hello Kitten," he growled. The bartender emitted a high pitched squeak and threw herself half across the bar to press a kiss to his cheek. Damien grinned to reveal a row of perfectly white teeth and took a seat, taking the drink that had been poured with unnatural speed.

"I was wondering where you were," Mae noted. "A bit of a late start for you, isn't it?" She continued to pour drinks and take money, stuffing the extra cash slid her way into various parts of clothing--if one could call it that.

"Mmm, yes, but rumor has it Xavier and Addison's prodigy has fledged at last. Dad was in all sorts of an uproar about it this morning," he explained, sipping on his whiskey and taking a cigarette out of the pocket in his leather jacket.

"And you're sure it had nothing to do with your little scuffle down in Southside last night," Mae teased, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him. Damien rolled his eyes at her. So much a sister, she was, despite being a werepanther. Regardless, she was considered a full Macevicius pack member. She and Damien were nearly the same age, though Mae a couple years older--a fact she loved to remind him of whenever it came to a disagreement. Damein found it infuriating because, really, in the grand scheme of lifetimes that stretched centuries what on earth difference did a year or two make? For god's sake his parents were nearly four centuries apart in age.

"Whatever," Damien scoffed, "Not my fault the fucking pixies can't take a joke." He swallowed the rest of his whiskey in a single gulp and held his glass out for it to be repoured. The ice had barely begun to melt. "Either way, that's not what he was on about. He wants me to 'check it out', whatever that implies." Damien snorted and ashed his cigarette.

"Oh my," Mae giggled, leaning against the bar and stretching her feline spine that was exposed nearly in its entirety. "Well that does sound like fun. Rumor also has it that they're staging a sort of...interview tonight. Looking for new recruits, trying to add to their numbers already. It's a who's who of guests, you know. All the rich human assholes who are using mommy and daddy's money to buy them immortality. Those types." Mae and Damien both had a certain distaste for human company. Petty, desperate creatures they all seemed to be. The rich, spoiled ones were the absolute worst.

Damien licked a few drops of smokey liqour from his lips and gave Mae a devilish grin. "Oh now there's an idea. What better way to see what they're on about than act like one of those rich little fucks, huh?"

"You do get to have all the fun," Mae pouted, sticking out her full lower lip. Damien stood, took the entirety of his fresh drink in a single go, and patted Mae's cheek with his enormous hand in a fashion he knew she hated. He let out a cackle at her high pitched growl and jumped back before her teeth could latch into his flesh, a habit she never had quite broken since they were children.

"You're with me in spirit, Kitten," he called out over his shoulder as he took his leave. It was a short jaunt back to the hotel that had, in the short time he'd been gone, turned into a hub of activity as the pack stirred and awoke for the evening. Damien slipped in through one of the back entrances, taking the service stairs to his room. He quickly showered and set out what was likely the most pretentious outfit he could string together. A quick shave eliminated his customary five o'clock shadow and some pomade slicked his thick and characteristically unruly hair back out of his face. When he looked in the mirror he could damn near believe it himself that he was some greasy vampire hopeful. Except...he paused to smell his skin. Well that wasn't going to work.

After literally decades of sneaking out and being places no werewolf had a right to be, Damien had amassed an arsenal of tricks. After digging through his bathroom cupboards, he found the small jar of cream he'd been looking for. He bought it off a low level crone some time ago, and it had always seemed to do the trick at least for a few hours. He rubbed it on his hands and neck before taking another smell of himself. Ah, much better. A bit of pheremone magic and some mild glamour always did the trick.

Damien took the elevator to the parking garage, bypassing his parked motorbike and instead heading towards the black Maserati. It was far too ostentatious to belong to Garrett. No, this was Maddox's car--a definite sign he had at one point lived amongst vampires, however many decades ago it may have been. A throat cleared behind him and he glanced over his shoulder to see Mycal working on one of the pack's many vehicles. There was a distinct disapproving look in the older wolf's eyes but Damien ignored him, instead sliding into the posh, black leather interior and pressing the ignition button. The car purred to life and with a few wild screeches and tire marks Damien left the parking garage, heading to the interstate that would take him north towards the new hive.
 
The house, at least, was beautiful. All of the floors were pristine and white, marbled with gold. Columns supported the upper levels, and the vaulted ceilings were fitted with automatic windows that opened to reveal the perfect, starry night sky. There were enough accommodations to house at least twenty vampires, plus an entire blueprint of a connecting house if they should ever need one. His fathers had taken the time to at least decorate his own master suite - situated on the third floor of the sprawling manor, set at the end of a long hallway.

Color wise, it was simple enough. White, gold and silver completed the room, a black soft rug beneath his bed covered most of the marbled floor. On both the east and west sides of his own personal wing were floor to ceiling windows, with light sensitive curtains that would open and close at the perfect times. His bed was plus and placed against the bare wall, and just where his windows stopped, a door to his master bath. Complete with both a clawfoot tub and an alcove shower. Despite his previous attitude toward moving out, Mael was... very much pleased with his parents decorating choices. Though, he was certain Xavier had done most of the work.

Currently, Mael was placed strategically between the two tall backed, black upholstered and gold leaf chairs that Lilly and Harriet now occupied. His chair was quite a bit larger, and so he made himself comfortable by sprawling out in it. One arm was propped on the armrest, supporting his chiseled chin as he gazed in utter boredom at the squirming human sitting across the table from three vampires. Harriet and Lilly were ruthless - as they should have been. So far, out of the hundreds of applicants all too rich and full of daddy issues, they had picked ten. Ten of them, who weren't so boring or reckless after a life of being so, so mundane.

Mael had even been forced to kick a few of them out, for they made the hair raise on the back of his head. It was a bit ludicrous how many rich psychopaths there were this day and age. Truthfully, he'd thought it had died out some time ago. But, proven wrong, Mael made himself comfortable and... so bored as the line seemed to never end.

He did laugh to himself, though, when he'd first entered their grand foyer to find it set up like a king's throne room. A dais, set with three chairs a top steps with a grand, plush red carpet. A curtain separating the sitting room so there could be no eavesdropping. And, ugh. The amount of dressing up he actually had to do was absurd. An actual black suit coat, a button down shirt, real slacks? He'd forgone the tie entirely and left the top buttons of his shirt undressed, leaving his hair to cascade down his shoulders in all of its golden glory.

He audibly groaned as a man tried to bribe them with his family's fortune. Harriet and Lilly turned their eyes away from the handsome heir to some ungodly fortune as Mael turned his vibrant blue eyes upon the man.

"I'm sure human women love it when you go on and on about yourself and all of your wealth, but you've told us nothing interesting about yourself." He snorted, humoring himself. "As good for a fuck as I'm sure you are, there are at least fifty men and women behind you that would... quite literally die to be in your position." He narrowed his eyes, letting them glow under the stars, chandeliers and moonlight.

"Now. Be a good boy and get the fuck out." He waved his alabaster hand in a sweeping motion; and when the man didn't immediately move, the butlers (deceptively strong) grabbed hold of the conceited blood bag and pulled him out through a side door, no doubt tossing him out into the dirt. Harriet and Lilly both laughed softly, and Mael kicked his legs out even further, crossing them at the ankles as he drew his long legs up the curl himself up in the large chair, a whiskey appearing in his outstretched hand as another butler appeared from seemingly nowhere.

"Lils. Harri. I think I've lost hope in humanity." He barely kept a straight face as the girls burst in to peals of laughter. He shushed them, snorting into his drink and taking a large gulp before he lit himself a cigarette, watching the girls follow suite with their own leather cases of cancer. "Alright, alright. Let's continue...

Next!"
 
It was hardly the social event of the season. Damien supposed he expected this to be a bit more lively and, well, vampiric. You know, dark rooms, strong drinks, whatever drugs you could think of on silver platters coming around to keep the human guests complacent. This was more like a job interview. How dreadfully boring. Damien waited in the foyer with the other hopefuls, nobody saying a world. The butler refused to acknowledge them, and every joke he tried cracking seemed to fall on deaf ears. By the time the melodic voice beckoned the next candidate and it was Damien's turn, he was more than ready.

Damien pushed through the heavy doors, shaking his head at how awful this whole thing was. Terrible vampires, really. He lit a cigarette as he walked into the grand room and looked around. Again, no staff, no party, not even a cocktail. "Jesus tits. Whose cock do I gotta suck to get a drink around here?" he asked of no one in particular, but finally looked up to make eye contact with the hive master and his two queens. Really, the hive master was far more interesting. The queens were of no consequence to Damien, and truth be told to no one really. If they died they were replaceable. There seemed nothing particularly special about them save for the fact they were beautiful and likely ruthless.

He looked around the room that had been furnished to the teeth with expensive décor. Nothing left to chance from the marble floors to the gold leafed moulding along the ceiling. From the corner of his eye, Damien noticed the three flipping through their leather bound portfolios with immaculate fingers that had likely never felt the touch of cool earth or dewy grass. "Oh, you won't find me in there, darlings," he smirked, ashing his cigarette carelessly. "I heard this was the event of the century. After all, not every day we get a new hive and a chance at immortality. I do hope you take walk-ins." Damien flashed a dazzling smile with a row of perfectly straight, gleaming white teeth. Even under his best disguise, his smile was still that of a hungry predator, always on the hunt.

"My name is Jay Gatsby. Graduated Summa Cum Laude from University of Chicago in Robotics and Engineering. Family is from Hartford, Connecticut and yes love--we're old money," Damien paused to suck in a deep drag from his cigarette. He held it for a moment before slowly exhaling through his nostrils, studying the cigarette in his hand. He doubted any of these three had ever read a book in their life, let alone early 20th century American classics. Vampires seemed to think themselves above the toils of humanity and, thus, human literature. Not that Damien was particularly sympathetic to the species. However, under Mycal's tutelage had somehow found a fondness for reading that most of his species--and indeed, vampires alike--lacked.

"But that's not what you really want to know, is it?" he asked through a plume of smoke, his characteristic smirk hanging from the corner of his plush mouth. His blue eyes were practically on fire, the thrill of the chase, the hunt, coursing through his blood. "So I suppose I'll let you ask the questions. Let's see if I can pass your arbitrary oral quiz for immortality," he chuckled throatily, raising his cigarette to his lips for another drag.
 
A raised eyebrow was all the stranger received from Mael as he walked in with a very, very brave remark about having a drink. Mael quickly eyed one of the butlers in the corner, who quickly disappeared without a sound. He didn't recognize this face - and Mael had personally been through the portfolios of all of the applicants multiple times. His question was answered as the sleek looking man looked condescendingly toward his Queens and ashed his cigarette carelessly onto the marble floor. Such an audacious man. Mael perked up ever so slightly, resting his chin on his fist with a purposefully bored look.

He bared his teeth, in what Mael assumed was a smile and took a breath, lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips and taking a sip only to nearly choke on it as the man introduced himself. As the Jay Gatsby. He covered it up with a clearing of his throat, knowing Harriet and Lilly wouldn't catch on. As humans they had been shallow, and as vampires they were about as deep as a shower. He let it slide, knowing anonymity was something very precious to those who had enough money and enough of a record. He did his best to keep a straight face. Obviously, this man thought they were complete idiots. Mael, however, had been raised by the most famous classic violinist in the world, and a book-loving, fire-sitting father. Truth be told, The Great Gatsby had been read to him countless times before he even knew how to properly spell. It was a love of his, and though no applicants knew, Mael had a massive library just below their feet. A parting gift from Xavier.

Mael let Jay drone on about how arbitrary and droll they were, and his lips twitched as he waved a hand in amusement. As if out of thin air, his butlers reappeared. One pressing a chair toward the table at which Harriet and Lilly sat, the other holding out a crystal glass of whiskey.

"Well, Old Sport," Mael cocked an eyebrow at that, not moving from his languid position on the plush chair before him, blue eyes glittering in the soft lighting as it made his hair shine like 24 karat gold. "We would like to know a little about you - not your money." He glanced around him to prove a point. They had no need for his, or anyone's money. Jay Gatsby may thing he was from old money, but Mael was from ancient money.

"Why do you want to be immortal, Mr. Gatsby?" He barely held in his snicker, and his lips twitched in utter amusement. "Aside from the fact that you get to live forever. What's in it for you, for us, for the well being of my hive?" Both Lilly and Harri looked at him through the corner of their matching chestnut colored eyes. Not once during the interviews had Mael deigned it necessary to speak. Both of them cast weary glances between their Hive Master and the stranger, doing their best to remain passive and unshakable even though Mael had found... something interesting enough about this newcomer to conduct his own interview.
 
Oh shit. The ruse was up. Damien's hair stood on end briefly as he prepared to come up with a new lie on the fly, but the hive master seemed to enjoy the game, and instead invited him for more conversation. Damien took the glass of whiskey handed to him and sipped at it appreciatively. Of course, the vampires wouldn't drink the cheap shit. Aged, single malt, likely more expensive than what was served in the dirty dive bars Damien frequented. He smirked playfully and met the dazzling blue eyes of the vampire.

"Why not have all the time in the world to enjoy life's more debaucherous splendors?" he asked. "And not just good whiskey." Damien winked at the vampires in front of him. He took another generous drink of his whiskey and sucked the stray drops from his full bottom lip. "Look, I'm not going to stand here and spin some...altruistic lie about how I want to observe humanity and further science and technology." Damien snorted and waved his hand around the grandeur of the room. "No, why not enjoy this? Enjoy what can really be garnered from life on this miserable fucking planet?"

Damien finished his drink and set the crystal glass down on the ornate, rococo credenza. He lit another cigarette in a smooth motion and drew the air over his teeth sharply. "As for you guys?" Damien exhaled tendrils of smoke and held out his arms. "I can give you guys a taste of the darkest underbelly of this city without you having to worry about getting dirt on those pretty little oxfords of yours." He started walking, not realizing he was pacing slowly but it was in his nature--a caged animal was wont to pace. "Also, I'm sexy. I imagine there's some level of attractiveness required to be a vampire. Afterall, I've never seen an ugly one."

He finally decided to sit, flopping unceremoniously in the chair that had been added to the table, sprawling out his languid, athletic form and ashing into the crystal ash tray in the center. "Look--you've interviewed probably a hundred rich brats tonight and I would bet my left nut they're all exactly the same. They're spoiled, they're entitled, but they all play by the same rules. They're cookie cutter. You cant even remember their names let alone their faces because they're all interchangeable, disposable, and replaceable. You want to build a hive? A strong hive? One that can withstand wars and territory disputes, one that can drive its roots so deep into this city that the mere thought of it falling makes civilization crumble?"

"You need someone with backbone--someone who can fight their own battles without needing daddy's money to instill fear into the hearts of their enemies. Someone," he paused to ash for dramatic effect, "like me." Damien flashed his dazzling smile again, his piercing blue eyes meeting Mael's and holding his gaze with the unwavering force of a born alpha.
 
Well, Mr. Gatsby did have a point, did he? The rich were spineless creatures and while they had definitely recruited more than a few influential blue bloods, they'd also managed to snag a few scrappy lower class people that would offer them a chance to... speak to the masses, if you will. However, Mael had yet to interview someone who was so full of his capabilities of being a strong defender. Something told Mael that this man was hiding a hell of a lot more than he let on. But, he didn't pry. Especially when Harriet and Lilly both began to scoff and grumble about how rude he was.

How refreshing. Someone who could actually offend the two most offensive vampires in his hive.

Mael smiled, ignoring the flourish and antics that only came from trying a bit to hard, and met Jay's eyes head on, unblinking just as he was. Surely another hive leader would have taken this as a challenge, but Mael saw things a little differently. He could be useful. Mael said nothing though, knowing Harriet would explode, judging by the look in her eyes and the way her shoulders had begun to shake.

The hive master let his smile widen, tapping his fingers on the edge of his gilded throne. Here it comes... Three, two, one...

"How dare you!" Harriet shrieked, standing up so quickly in her seat that it flew backwards despite being relatively heavy - shattering against the walls. "You have got to be the most insulting, pompous, ungrateful -"

"Oh, come now Harriet." Despite the shrieking of the female vampire, Mael's voice carried over hers like silk and honey, and the spitfire dressed in red slowly recovered herself, clearing her throat and drinking the wine set in front of her. "Mr. Gatsby is just putting on a show, aren't you, old sport?" He chuckled throatily, standing from his seat in a fluid motion at last. With a grace only vampires possessed, Mael floated gracefully down the steps and recached into the pocket of his sleek jacket, plucking out a card. He flicked it between his middle and pointer fingers, offering a dangerous looking smile to the stranger in front of him.

"Welcome to the Hive, Mr. Gatsby. Pack your things; a car will be 'round in the morning to pick you up around noon. You do still wake up during the day, don't you?" He waved a hand, not giving him a chance to answer. "You'll get yourself settled in and acquainted with your new hive members, and sit in on tomorrow's interviews. After those are finished, there will be a little get together." He eyed the man up and down once more before turning his back.

"Dress accordingly, old sport." Mael couldn't get enough of calling this one's bluff. He ignored the girl's shocked looks as he went back up onto the dais and raised an eyebrow to see Jay still standing there.

"Well?" He questioned, sucking his fangs as he lifted his glass and saluted the man in great Gatsby fashion. "Off you go, chap. I'll see you tomorrow night." Truth be told, Jay Gatsby had about thirty seconds to high tail it out of this room before he was physically carried out, but there would be no warning. Only the strong hands of the butlers.
 

His eyes didn't even flicker at the sudden explosion from one of his concubine queens. Damien raised a thick eyebrow in her direction, lips twisting into a wry smile. Pompous? Big words coming from a vampire. Good. It meant he was getting under their skin. He wanted to see what this hive was capable of and what their intentions really were--placating them and allowing them to put forth their best show of grandeur wasn't going to tell him anything.

"Truly, Harriet. Didn't mean to offend," he drawled, winking at her as he gave a small, respectful bow. He took the small card offered by Mael, fingers deliberately brushing the cool porcelain flesh. He took a moment to take in the withering glares from both queens and the sardonic smile from the hive master. Well, this was it. He was in. Now what? He took Mael's hint and gave a half hearted salute before turning on his heel and exiting the great hall. A butler with a matching dossier stopped him, an inquisitive look on his face. Ah, yes, he wasn't in their book.

"You can find me at 59th and Ashland," he said briefly before strolling through the front door into the cool evening. He very well couldn't have their driver pick him up from the pack's den. That would raise too many alarm bells, not to mention the poor driver likely wouldn't get out of the territory alive. No, it had to be in a more neutral place--the grey area where their territories overlapped with the vampires. So it looked like he would be crashing with Mae for the night. Not that it was anything out of the ordinary for their drunk asses to stumble back to her apartment and pass out in the wee hours of the morning.

Damien stopped by the den briefly to pack a duffle bag with some clothes, mostly for show. Afterall, he had to play the part right? He made sure to grab his little jar of glamour and tuck it inconspicuously with his toiletries. He slung the bag over his shoulder and picked a garment bag out of his closet, closing his door behind him on the way out.

"Going somewhere?" His father's voice made him actually jump. Damien looked over his shoulder to see Garrett and Maddox strolling down the hall, no doubt on their way to retire for the morning.

"Uh, yeah. Going to some fancy party tomorrow with Mae. Some kind of Siren wedding," he shrugged. "All I heard was open bar." Damien grinned flawlessly at his parents.

Garrett grunted, knowing where there were booze his son was surely to follow. At this point he wouldn't be surprised if he found him in glamour as a leprechaun for St. Patrick's Day carrying a pony keg. "I see," he muttered, glancing sideways at Maddox. "Any news on the new hive?"

Damien had already started to leave but paused, setting his duffle down. "Well, word on the street is they started holding interviews tonight. Looks like they're not wasting anytime getting established. Their fledgling has two queens, from the sounds of it. So they're prepared to build ranks quickly." He could practically see the hackle's on his father's neck stand upright. It wasn't kosher for a new hive or pack to try to establish and not introduce themselves to form truce with those already in existence. Unless, of course, their intent as more sinister. To be honest, Damien doubted Mael had any sinister intent--he was simply young, stupid, and didn't understand the politics of the ruling classes in the supernatural world or simply didn't care. It was going to end up biting him, though. Possibly quite literally.

"Very well," Garrett growled, restless again and not liking what he heard. "Let me know when you find out more." He had been heading to bed with his husband, content to curl up in either wolf or human form together. But this news was agitating. He couldn't possibly rest, let alone sleep, with such a threat to his pack on his mind.

With his fathers distracted, Damien finished his exit without further delay. This time he didn't even encounter Mycal's disapproving stares. It didn't take long for him to speed through sleepy Chicago streets until he found Mae's apartment complex. With clothes in tow he climbed the four flights of stairs of the old, brick walk-up. By the time he reached her door it was already unlocking for him, Mae having heard him the second he stepped out of his car.

"Sorry about the sudden intrusion," he grinned, dropping his things and removing his jacket, shirt and boots until he was far more comfortable. From inside his coat pocket he flourished the little embossed card. "I'm in. They're picking me up tomorrow." Mae squealed and the two spent the next few hours replaying the night's events until finally the morning sun was rising and they agreed it was time for bed. Damien fell asleep on the couch for a few hours until his alarm woke him that it was time to get ready. He showered, shaved the thick five o clock shadow that had already sprouted to cover his face, masked his scent and dressed in the solid black Armani suit he'd brought with a black Versace shirt and black, silk tie. It had been one of Maddox and Ashley's doings, of course. Every now and again the two of them managed to wrangle him down--almost by force--and update his wardrobe. They found the entire thing quite thrilling, while Damien ended up feeling like a blow dried poodle. At least it had finally come in handy.

At exactly noon, Damien lifted his duffle bag by the handles and jogged down the stairs, checking his watch as his feet hit the pavement outside. A couple seconds past the minute, the quiet purr of a town car sounded and a black car with blackened windows pulled up to a stop at the curb. Ah, that must be for him.
 
Mael let the stranger leave in peace, and motioned for the butlers to begin closing up the interviews. They would ask the remaining twenty or so applicants to return on the morrow. Unfortunately for him, that had been the very last interview of the evening - so Mael prepared himself for a berating by the Queens, who immediately stood and whipped around on him as soon as the mansion doors had been shut and locked.

"Have you lost your mind?! We know nothing about him!"

"What the hell has gotten in to you, Mael?!"

The twin screeches were enough to send him into a frenzy, but he took a deep breath and turned toward them, keeping an eerie calm about himself as he walked up the steps to the two livid women standing in front of him. He put his arms behind his back, holding each of their gazes for an uncomfortable amount of time, until they shrunk back from him. It was an old Master technique - one he had seen his father use more than once when Addison had grown a little too big for his breeches. Intimidation was something he had to learn at a very young age, especially around all of the vampires who wanted nothing more than to have him for a snack. Granted, he'd had no power back then, but practice in the mirror had given him plenty of time to perfect the slight squint in his azure eyes, the graceful pull downward of his full lips, and the slight furrow of his perfectly shaped eyebrows.

It worked with precise efficiency, shutting the two vampire queens up almost immediately as he took measured steps toward them. Once he was within reach, Mael reached for them and delighted in their almost invisible flinches. He wasn't cruel, but he had slapped them once or twice just to remind them that he was, indeed, in charge of them. Best friends they may be, but he hadn't turned them for them to be his superiors. Occasionally they just needed a reminder.

"My darlings," He purred, letting his voice be too soft and too caring. He pet their hair, keeping an eye on both of them to make sure they didn't lift their eyes. "Remember your places," He pressed gentle kisses to their cheeks, stepping away. "I may have given you some control, but I will not have you question me when I make my executive decisions. This is my hive, after all." He didn't have to ask if he'd made himself clear - the stench of fear was all over them.

Mael turned from the women, rolling his eyes when he knew he couldn't see. "Maybe the two of you should go out and feed. You seem rather irritable." His dismissal was noted. Get out, or get pommeled. "I'll see you both when the sun sets." He hadn't stopped walking, and Mael opened the door that lead to the staircase toward his room, and his voice echoed through the halls as the door slowly swung shut. "Don't come back until you've managed those attitudes!"

Mael retired for the night, knowing his drivers and butlers would be plenty able to handle the picking up and situating of his new hive members. Daylight was a good time for them to get settled in and mingle. A lovely spread of lunch things had been laid out (a last meal of sorts), there were drinks, and their rooms were all neatly labeled and posted on a wall. There were, of course, multiple wings; but for now all of his new hive members would be situated together in hopes that there would be some camaraderie developed while they settled in.

Plus, it meant that Mael was sleeping when all of the sleek, black cars pulled up in front of the beautiful estate and the butlers opened the doors. All on time, all perfectly in sync, the doors opened and his new hive members stepped out in to their last taste of the sun. After this, they would have to get used to living a perfectly nocturnal lifestyle. Not a terrible adjustment for the rich riff raff, but an essential one.

His head butler cleared his throat as all stood in front of the marble steps that lead them to the ornately decorated doors before them. "While your rooms are being prepared for each of you, there is food and drink in the foyer. You are also free to explore the estate and the grounds. Master Mael has only asked that you refrain from leaving the premises or entering his private wing. You will all be given new mobile devices once you have settled in, and we ask that you hand in your current cell phones as you enter." He opened an arm, and the doors swung open to the massive mansion as if on their own.

"Welcome to the Irving Hive, enjoy yourselves."