Somewhat Clear

Wordcount: 640
Notes: written for the bhaal's games at MAF lounge; featuring sgriosair (chelle), valentine (ulysses), manelys (tinycreature), yaris (sabu/iruka), nymea (nubbins)

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Sgriosair, Valentine and Manelys of District 10

Callaern had always been attracted to what the Household affectionately called “the problem children”: unwilling vessels delivered by too-enthusiastic families, difficult spawns that went through bouts of regret and fear when faced with the reality of their condition, hesitant Heads that didn’t feel responsible enough to start their own little families.

Sgriosair, Valentine and Manelys weren’t part of his Household, but it didn’t matter: Callaern felt like they were his children, a little, nonetheless. He wished to touch Sgrio’s soul, their mistrust towards him, their devotion towards a deity whose absolute triumph was death; he wished to soothe Valentine’s fears, their desperation for survival; he wished he could’ve broken through Manelys impassible mask, find her heart.

He didn’t know, as they got ready for the parade, if they were going to come together, or to fight each other. Like many things in life, Callaern only knew he had to step forward, and hope for the best.

###

Yaris of District 1

“Oof, my head is spinning,” Yaris laughed as he leaned into Callaern’s side with a pained smile.

“Oh dear,” Callaern cooed. “Did I take too much?”

He brushed the short strands of silky-soft hair away from Yaris’s sweaty forehead and checked his temperature with the back of his hand. He did not feel feverish—he didn’t expect him to, after a couple of quick feedings like that, but maybe he was a little more sensitive to blood loss than most.

“No, no, I think I’m going to be fine. Just—a little dizzy.”

“You got me worried there for a moment,” Callaern purred, squeezing him. Truth to be told, he wasn’t overly concerned—Yaris’s heartbeat seemed fine, he smelled okay. He was probably just a little alarmed about feeling faint.

Still, Callaern’s sire always taught him the importance of being grateful to those who were generous; bonding-time with the ones that gave their blood willingly was important and healthy.

He liked Yaris, beside. Fussing a little over him was no hardship.

“I'll be fine,” Yaris said, reassuring. His eyes went a little distant, deep in thought. “Hopefully, everyone will.”

Callaern smiled. What a pity for them, to have met in the games. The idealistic type always made for good spawn. And good Household heads in good time.

###

Nymea of District 12

The second Callaern laid on the gorgeous Drow girl from District Twelve he had a feeling of deja-vu.

“Oh, darling,” he murmured, pitching his voice high but keeping his volume low. He didn’t want to project too much concern, in case she was the type of headstrong girl that didn’t appreciate people in her business. She looked young, but strong and capable. And yet. “How come a big and strong girl like you smells so hungry? None of your district-mates are willing to help? ”

She glared up at him, her red eyes zeroing-in on his, scanning the rest of his frame with a calculating, mistrusting look—a hint of fear at the very bottom of it. She knew what he was; she didn’t trust it. Just like the last solitary spawn he had come across, she had no reason to consider a vampire sire an ally. “That doesn’t sound like any of your business, does it?”

Callaern laughed, light and bright. “How right you are! Except—I hate watching a pretty spawn like you go unfed. Maybe we could join efforts,” he whispered, conspiratorial, sitting down next to her. “I get a snack for you, and you—well, we can agree on something later.”

She smirked. Her fangs were small and graceful, fitting her doll-like face. “Drawing your alliances early, huh?”

“Maybe,” he conceded, acknowledging her wit. He crossed his legs. “Do we have a deal?”

“Maybe,” she echoed, drawing herself on her feet, and offering a hand for him to get up. She licked her lips. “I am feeling terribly peckish.”

Callaern smiled back, and took her hand.