Thread: Blood and Betrothal 2.0 (Leatrix Sage X Octopus Prince)

For the wedding between a vampire and a demon heir, Malandra had to admit that it was all rather boring. There was an initial thrill in seeing her wife at the end of the aisle, wearing a well tailored suit and a stoic expression, but beyond that, the words were said, the tingling sensation of a binding promise washed over her senses, and it was done. Well it seemed done. Malandra had to admit that it felt like her skin didn't quite fit right now that she was bound to the vampire--like her power was being stretched like taffy both between her and the other woman, and towards something else, some one else. Probably her sire, Malandra reasoned, familiar enough with vampires and their hierarchies, as well as able to feel the resonant power of her new wife in that closeness to guess that she was born of an impressive line and bound to some darkness lurking spook that could take quite a hit and walk away unscathed. She liked that-- they had better odds at winning if they were both hard to kill, and Malandra already knew from experience that she wasn't one to stay down for long. The witch looked up at her now and forever partner as her veil was passed back-- and because it was appropriate and she was curious, she tipped her head up, tipped on her heels to the balls of her feet, and closed the space between their mouths. No one had said anything about a kiss, but well, it was a wedding wasn't it? And while Malandra had a feeling someone so lovely had to have a beau somewhere biting their knuckle over her marrying someone else, she wasn't about to concern herself with the feelings of ants. They had made the agreement as such that she'd be staying in one of the well organized and hidden in plain sight skyscaping apartments the vampires used as a strong hold and headquarters, and Malandra could only assume that given vampires and their love for ranks and control and possession, she'd be under this woman's watchful eye most if not all of the time. She didn't care really if her wife had other lovers about-- vampires were different, had intrinsic, instinctive needs that if not sated could become quite volatile, but she'd sooner marry a toad and call it a success for the war than not be on the list of this woman's sexual prospects. They were married for life, so she was going to get laid. She let the kiss linger, her hand rested gently upon one of the vampire's shoulders-- Ivy, her name was-- Ivy Lioncourt. It suited her, as far as Malandra was concerned, a clean cut, sharp, old fashioned name. Nothing like Malandra's own, that sounded exotic with purposeful deceit, her ancestors witches of the New World with the occasional delicious tryst with her demonic kin. It was rare for demons to breed with the witches they were bound to, but Malandra had been of a lucky bloodline, and had inherited all the benefits of an unholy union. The difference in their power was blatant in the way it hummed on the air, Ivy's a spaced out, controlled, but powerful and consistent pulse of energy that gave warning of her strength without revealing the fullness of its danger, while Malandra's resonated like a sinister, burning hot beacon. Witches could feel it off of her, if they were relatively attune, so she had a feeling as she drew back from her bride that she and every other vampire in their ceremony were probably caught by a deadly, territorial itch. Problem number one. The last thing she needed was for the union to end with her gang piled by a group of instinct crazed vampires, though... with Ivy Lioncourt as her mate, perhaps they'd be too reigned in by her own power, too loyal and well trained to act on what their instincts reasonably told them that Malandra was a high priority threat that needed to be eliminated. Just thinking of it all, of what ought to be done to make this ridiculous idea work was tantalizing for Malandra-- it'd been a long time since she'd bother to really put her mind to strategy. She hadn't had to in many years, vampires killed witches, witches killed vampires, it was the way of things, and she didn't show any attachment to her coven enough to stop that almost natural cycle of death between them. After all, it would do no good to seem weak, to show favoritism... That had been the downfall of their last coven master in a way-- the man she had called her lover, her last love, she hoped. Malandra was sure Ivy was nice. Certainly a fine lady full of intriguing loveliness...but marriage and love were not mutually exclusive. Malandra had a feeling that if the man she'd loved last could wrap his hands around her neck to try and sacrifice her to some old god after telling her he loved her, this vampire could do far worse even with their spiritual bond as a deterrent. This wasn't for her own gain in that way, as much she was already entertaining consummating their marriage later that night-- they could have sex, and power, and dominion over the Unseelie Court if they played their cards right... but not love. Malandra smiled, something sweet and suspicious at the same time as her pretty red lips curled, and she reached her hand up to gently wipe away a smear of red lipstick just on the corner of Ivy's mouth. It was funny, and fitting-- vampires with their red and black and blood sport. The splotch was gone though, Ivy's alabaster skin restored to perfection. Malandra noticed, just then, at least up close, that Ivy wasn't wearing any make up at all-- she was handsome all on her own, but had she not been required to preen before the wedding-- perhaps it was some tradition Malandra was unfamiliar of, to come so plainly to one's own wedding. After all, the suit was nice, but Malandra was already curious what her wife might look like in a dress, in many dresses in fact-- she could think of a dozen she'd sewn up in her shop that she might have her wife try on for size, if the suit gave any hint to her proper measurements. Ivy Lioncourt and Malandra De Coursav, forever and ever, 'til death do they part. Hopefully that would be a long ways off. Last edited Feb 27, 2019