Deepwood Weald Blood Cult

75F°, currently there is a light mist and set during the night. Located in Great Bear Wilderness, deepwood weald | ooc notes: if anyone wants to join the cult, please refrain from joining this thread, we can always have them meet Abaddon and they can join the next meeting! There will be no posting order | tagging: @Death, @Rosina, @Tuvaq, @Anastasia, @Nemsis

One by one there were a few other freaks who decided to join his little congregation. A freakshow really of all kinds of odd individuals who had their own kinks they want to show and share, something he was interested in seeing in such a natural, animalistic way. What kind of kinks did they have? Were they all like him and had a fixation on blood, a need for it to survive? It would be nice to have someone else like him - maybe if they were a female he might even be willing to start a little vampire family and spread their own little sick disease. 

Ugh. Nevermind, even that seemed too family like. Too tied down. 

Finding his way to the dark woods with which he had told each of the possible members of the cult to find him tonight, a night of a new moon where darkness truly reigned supreme. Would everyone be able to take some time away from their own packs to meet with their fellow oddities, or would he be here, sitting alone with a thumb up his ass?

Death was somewhere around here too, the boy was getting bigger by the day, even Abaddon could see that the boy might be day be bigger than him... perhaps if he was still placid, he could be useful as some kind of body guard or whatever. He wasn't sure what the boy thought of him now that he saw what kind of monstrosity he was, feeding on some poor female - but she wasn't dead, he was sure of that. Perhaps that alone was enough to make him different than the beasts of the haunted woods from which he came from.

Would he join tonight? Or would the boy simply be completely disgusted to the point that he would remain away for the entirety of the meeting?

It had taken them days to leave Ravensblood forest. 
And yet here she was, miles away from the canyon. It was one night, but she was here. Now let's hope there weren't any faces that recognized her. 
The wood was just as creepy as the last time she had been here, the mist clinging to everything, the dizzying trees. 
She had almost considered inviting Donovan, as she was sure he would appreciate the Debauchery she would be participating in. But she needed this for herself. She needed something that for once, wasn't tied to him, or the pack, or leadership. Let him carry the mantle. 
As she entered the clearing it was though a heavy cloak slipped from her shoulders and a wide, genuine smile allowed itself to grace her muzzle. 
She spotted Abbaddon and approached him, the bravado and Dominance gone from her. Here she was relaxed. At home amongst her own kind. And her thirst would soon be slaked.  
In her jaws she carried a juvenile coyote, too in shock to struggle or make much noise, it's eyes wide and fixed ahead, sides heaving, mouth open in a wordless scream. She deposited the creature at Abbadon's paws with a nod. 
"Thank you for having me. I brought you a gift. Do what you want with it- the blood is fresh, the flesh is young. Depending on your persuasion." 

Euuugghhh. Did they really have to do this? The boy wasn't disturbed by all of the shit Abaddon was planning, but he was awfully annoyed he invited others - especially the woman that had so clearly disrespected him. He wore a scowl this whole evening, shooting daggers at whoever dared enter the circle. Abaddon wouldn't abandon him for these freaks, right? He was so much more sophisticated than them - even though in reality he was but a bad-tempered brat with the size to back it all up.

If he had to go by how big his paws were getting, Death was sure he would tower above a crowd easily in a few moons. His puppy face was growing into its manliness, though the scowl did nothing for his handsomeness. Anyone willing to mention it would be met with insults.

And so the not-quite-teen moped against a tree, separating himself from the others but sticking close enough to overhear. He nearly gagged at the woman's words. If Abaddon ever decided to stick a dick in that bitch, surely all hope would be lost. You don't stick your dick in crazy after all.

Had Tuvaq ever felt guilt before? He was pretty sure that, if he hadn't in the past, he was feeling it now. The boy hadn't seen Abaddon in a while, but he had sworn to be here if he called, and... he was looking forward to it. Abaddon had been a two-time fling, Tuvaq had decided, after he met Acheron. The freckled boy had been his downfall, and he would do his best not to disappoint the other boy tonight. 

The blond approached the small group, hazel eyes flickering over the occupants of the field. Abaddon was unmistakeable, and he'd seen the woman before, but he did not recognize the child. Perhaps they both belonged to the bi-eyed man. 

His nose wrinkled at the offering the woman provided. Still living. "We torturing things, now?" he asked boldly as he approached, tipping his head to the side as he looked up at the white wolf. It wasn't he who had half-killed the coyote. "Didn't think that was what we were gonna be doing tonight." Disapproval, maybe.

Short, but wanted to get this up!

Too dark for your fancy? The little white wolf questioned, bright blues dancing over the pale yearling. And she realized then, as she looked around, they were all young, the men particularly being of around a yearling or even so younger. A hungry stare landed on Death and then her attention fluttered after a moment to the white wolf with dark rimmed eyes. She had fancied him and his blood hungry interest which mimicked her own. She might want to bathe in his own blood but had not, if only due to the fact that it was nice having others understanding of your desires.

It was a very small gathering, but small was fine. Small was good. Too many meant there were many mouths who would tell all about their little meetings and they would become... well, too hectic. Too chaotic. For now, the few that gathered were good enough. Individuals who all shared the same or at least similar kinks. Tuvaq had already proven himself, but the new pale woman was someone he didn't know too much about. One thing was for sure, he didn't like how she eyeballed Death for a moment. The boy was his, not hers. He'd have to keep an eye on her to make sure she didn't overstep that boundary.

We weren't supposed to, but I'll take it. He shrugged callously, unbothered by the sight brought to their meeting and well, it would be a shame to let it go to waste. It was going to die now regardless of what they did now. Did you want to take it out of its misery Tuvaq? Raising a brow to the dirty coated Youngman, Abaddon was curious to see what would come of it.

No, what I wanted was to just set up a meeting between freaks. Likeminds to find a place and individuals to feel comfortable around, it's only three of us for now, my brother over there is just my ward. With a tilt of his head, he motioned over to the sulking boy. Perhaps some introductions? I go by Abaddon, I am a vampire, I crave and need wolf blood to keep a level head. I like to think of it as a curse my father burned into me, and most likely all of his little spawns. This time he rose a brow to Death, curious to think what his kink would be later. What would make him a freak like the rest of Vengeance's brood? He was certain there was something.

It was just not obvious yet.

WARNING: slight mention of sex

Tuvaq, ever the observer, was scrutinizing of the wolves that approached. The white woman that came after him was unsettling, and he didn't like the way she looked at that kid. Whatever those intentions were, they couldn't have been good ones. 

His eyes flicked back to the coyote and he stepped forward, leaning in and sinking his teeth deep into its throat with no hesitation. It was far better to let the thing simply die than to prolong its torment. Still, the flash of blood on his tongue brought him little to no satisfaction - he didn't enjoy killing, and so he stepped back, nose wrinkled as he licked the remaining blood from it. 

"I'm Tuvaq," he announced, tail giving a decisive flick. "I am very fortunate to not need wolf blood to survive." He mentioned nothing of the sex - he believed it to be unnecessary.

Then why are you here? If your not one of us 'like minded freaks'? It dawned on her, as she spoke the words, why she was here? She had listened to Abaddon's little speech and introduction. Had watched as Tuvaq put the little coy out of his misery. It seemed the only one that might have been anything like her was the man which had set up this little gathering. But even he, and his little brother, were off limits. It made this whole situation rather, sad. 

I am Rosina. She spoke, taking a few steps, angling her side to them, circling slowly. Just your little white witch. Her voice, as airy and light as ever, her smile, dazzling. Faking an air of politeness, proper and sweet nature was kinda her thing. She stops, bright blue eyes sweeping over them. And I crave children. To which her eyes locked upon Death. Unknowingly to him, she had nearly taken a kin of his for herself not long ago. 

Would they shun her, push her out? Likely. Would she care? Not at all.