vengefulxvampire:
She remembered him well;
a n o t a b l e figure of her past.
A favorite if she was to be honest.
He’d found her not long after her transformation— she had been desperate for a change; she’d wanted to wash away her childish innocence and soak in everything that made her who she was today and Kaegon had given her exactly what he’d wanted. Her reputation as a manipulative, psychotic bitch had stemmed from him; he’d taken a broken, pitiful excuse of a girl and morphed her into something better.
Her stay in Toronto had become abysmal; A lack of suitable entertainment to fit her needs had become evident and boredom had begun to set in— what with the recent holiday and all, her temper had seemed to be on a shorter fuse; perhaps that would settle, but there was always that chance it wouldn’t. She was aching for a good night of fun and she was oh so eager to stretch her legs.
Kaegon’s appearance might be exactly what she’d been looking for.
While her expression remained the norm, playful and seductive, there was almost an excitement about her. And why not? It wasn’t often she’d run into a member of her past that she had enjoyed.
His name left her lips; that playful smile only seemed to widen.
Although he still chose to call her Katerina,
he had assisted in the birth of Katherine Pierce.
And as much as she detested her former name,
it sounded so delicious rolling off his tongue.
A playful chuckle escaped her; “Almost six centuries and I have to say it’s been far too long.” a mock pout formed on red lips as she spoke; brown hues alight with mischief as her gaze rested on the male.
“— oh the usual; manipulating, killing and enjoying myself overall.”
That signature smirk of hers curled onto her lips as let a small, pregnant pause settle in as she took a sip of her drink.
“And you, darling? I’m so eager to hear what you’ve been up too.”
The touch of a h e l l h o u n d.
the fingers { burn } an
unreasonable mark in the
skin; as well as the mind;
the [soul] is finally strong.
[ flynn gilroy ] What a name to hide behind; riddled with disease - dancing with Death himself; tea and biscuits with the damned. She was one of them, beautiful and tame, disgusting and pathetic; a small girl searching for change.
and the archangel appeared,
extended its h a n d to the
world; DROWNING in joy, wanting
to watch the light shine.
… l i g h t …
in the world, there
is no such thing
as LIGHT.
What is the b i g, fat lie?
Dark grey hues climbed over the crowd, picking up many scents—all familiar. Werewolf, shape-shifter, human… [ vampire ]. The hound yearned for find someone truly longing for darkness.
Katerina … [perfect].
— now Katherine Pierce.
He was proud; p r i d e f u l even.
Kaegon felt like a father - brother, actually.
“—m’ old.”
Older than most…
than all… never loved
BRAGGING
OF HIS
TRUTH
Kaegon pulled his concealed arm into view: a gleaming metal hook attached at the top, replacing the left hand that used to be there. “This—” the cost of loyalty was deep. “—and this.” A leather gloved hand pointed at his heart. The Hound felt nothing.
“Jittery.” The hook-hand disappeared in his trench coat. “Ye’… want some [f u n], eh?” He can feel it—smell it, taste it. “This city needs ‘ome excitement, mm? Why don’t we go ‘ut… n’ give them just that?
ooc. Since my muse is feeling like a jackass, I will be going to school. My muse simply wants to toy with emotions (someone who has been through a lot of emotional trauma) and — essentially b r e a k them. Any volunteers?
canisxabxinferno:
You are not more vulnerable than when your eyes are closed and your mind is far away in distant lands— Dreaming of ancient ages, or maybe future times, imagining things that could happen tomorrow as could never become reality at all. Sleep. Such a dangerous thing to do— Hypnos probably had been a dangerous God, back in the old greek century… That, if he did exist anyway. Someone like Xanthos, nothing but a simple Hound, couldn’t be sure of that.
Dying in your sleep?
He would fear it more than crave it.
Heavy footsteps warn of his presence.
Because this not-so-young-yet-still-younger pup doesn’t know what subtlety is.
[ No, he does. ]
He simply doesn’t want to be subtle when it comes to Kaegon. —Just like a cub, a young brother searching for the elder’s attention, wanting him to notice when he steps by, when he crosses his path not by coincidence… Simply wanting Kaegon to look at him. Actually look at him.
And that’s how fucked up he is.
❝ If you’re dead right now— ❞
❝ I swear I’ll haunt your ghost for all eternity. ❞
A tease, yes, but also not so much. ❝ Wake the fuck up, Geezer. ❞
Attention.
[ h a v e him s u f f e r ]
I have suffered long and hard enough.
A familiar pair of dark grey hues slowly opened, arms stretching outward as fists rubbed last-minute weariness from his eyes. Old as the hills, they say. Old as balls, he said a decade ago. Kaegon’s once peaceful smile morphed into an annoyed, expressionless smile: of a man greatly irritated by the other’s presence.
G‘ah, his audacity!
❝ Oi was asleep, ye’ son of a bitch.❞
Venom — common from a Hell Hound his age.
❝ If I ‘ere dead, my ‘eart would be impaled on my ‘ook.❞
O u c h - painful words left for another day.
❝ If ye’ ‘re here just ta’ force me te’ look at you, it won’t werk on me.❞
{ will it, though?
a weak, weary old soul -
longing for comfort,
but not from him }
vengefulxvampire:
Toronto—
It was no slice of h e a v e n;
— just another city in Katherine’s never ending world tour.
Heels clicked against the pavement, sounding her movements as she made her way down the street; through crowds of people unaware of what passed them by— to them? She was nothing more than a petite brunette in expensive fashion, but she could easily slaughter every last one of them before she blinked an eye.
The thought had a dark smirk spreading across her lips as she slipped her hands into the pockets of her favorite leather jacket and continued on her way to her favorite little tavern; The Dal.
Filled to the brim with supernatural, it was an i n t e r e s t i n g place.
She pushed through the door and made her way to the bar, nudging a few people out of her way as she beckoned the bartender over with a crook of her finger and a smile.
“— bourbon, straight up.”
Fingers tapped a nameless tune against the bartop as she waited, tongue sliding across her bottom lip as a hunger burned within her; she’d fed earlier, but such a craving as a vampire held was never quite satisfied; only quenched for moments at a time.
When the glass was handed to her, she was met a familiar smell; The signature scent of a hell hound was not something Katherine could forget.
As she turned away, gaze scanning the bar for that specific scent, the glass was lifted to her lips and the burn of the liquor as it slid down her throat was a comfort she had come to treasure.
Vampires did not feel temperature, but there was a momentary warmth that spread through her as the alcohol tried to take affect; of course, a single sip out not effect anyone, let alone a vampire, but the feeling was there.
Brown hues fell upon a familiar face as she slid through the crowd and that playful, signature smirk slid across her features.
“Kaegon.” — his name escaped her lips on a purr.
It had been centuries since she’d seen the hell hound; what a pleasant little surprise.
Canada, O’ Canada… what a sweet, pleasant place to b—
{ no it wasn’t. }
— filled to the brim with shit, pure shit in a can.
Eh, he was Irish through and through. Nothing to worry about, right?
Dark grey hues gently pushed by-goers out of the way, burying the hook his long coat less he warranted police offers apprehending him; on the pretense that it is a weapon that must be confiscated. Let the sad things wash away — poor little butterflies falling from the sky. Centuries old charm graced his scruffy visage: innocent people swindled with a bright-toothed smile and Irish accent; broken and d e l i c a t e humans falling for the feigned concern. This was the life he lead; of an elderly, ancient Hell Hound older than ancient Roman emperors, ordered to gather the souls of those whose deals were about to run out.
❝ [ K A E G O N ] ❞
That sultry purr, seductive coming out of the mouth of one woman he met in the distant past. He was proud to have called the woman his greatest work—after all, he had only met her when there was nothing more but an e m p t y shell; she wanted fixing, so there he was - the Black Death had washed over Europe that time, leaving people dead — lords grieving over their sons’ deaths. Women weeping over loss of children. He began seeing connections with these tragic events and what conspired in the past - allusions, rather, to what would come in the future.
”Katerina.”
{ that same ole’ irish accent }
Lips curled into their impeccable smile as he approached, noting the fact she still looked the same—expected of vampires, after all—but he changed. “‘oy long ‘as it been? Four, five, six centuries?” A flicker of delight while blue hues scanned the premises: he can already smell the humans lingering with the supernatural. After all, Hell Hounds are notoriously known to be the best trackers this universe had to offer.
”What ‘appened te’ ye?”
[ my own left hand was ripped,
long lost love stolen from me —
— simple stuff, really ]
#kaegon just wants some hugs #and affection #but the young hell hounds basically overshadow him #like all the other ones - he believes #and he gets jealous when others receive endearing compliments #because when he accomplished something great, all he got was #do it again #and no one understands him #they assume kaegon is just #an insufferable, stubborn old dog #when in fact he is just a baby on the inside #longing for compliments #embraces #love #but HAH #do hell hounds get any of this #no #but apparently a certain hell hound does #and he’s wondering /why/ was he created #only for him to be thrown out to pasture
❝ Do Hell Hounds sleep? ❞
A stupid question to ask, but the inquiring dog longed for an answer. Forever the curious, dark grey hues spanned over the small, secret enclave located in Yellowstone, the only real home he had for many decades. He watched humans come and go: with their children, infants, grandparents, relatives — smiles. Ugh; smiles. When was the last time those lips curled upward and not downward? An awful dread settled in that emptied, hardened heart, cruel smirk in ploy as he walked in the enclave and sat himself down on a couch. Yes, this little area, carved out of a mountain, accommodated modern, human consumer products.
❝ Dat ‘ill be a nice death, na? ❞
Sleep was a powerful potion; a seductive mistress willing to lure you into a false sense of security. That mistress was what lured the ancient Hound to slumber on the couch, perhaps closing his eyes for what felt like the last time since… forever.
