Private The Right Hand and the Left

[Eloise Dinn]

The streets of Necropolis were clouded by a perpetual mist, the result of some specific combination of factors in the planet's atmosphere. The fact that it was a tomb world dotted with thousands of cemeteries enshrouded in that fog was pure spooky coincidence.

Heedless of the low visibility caused by the weather, Eloise drove like a maniac, her speeder tearing through the streets. Diogo was in the passenger seat, having agreed to let her drive for the first (and quite possibly the last) time.

"I didn't know Thelma that well," Eloise said, making casual conversation as she slid around a hairpin turn. "I commissioned her a couple times, but that was pretty much the extent of our relationship. I always thought she was a little weird. It coming out that she and her master were vampires, though—"

They jerked to a sudden stop as Eloise somehow found a parking space amid the mists.

"—I never would've guessed that." She opened the door on her side. "I haven't seen her since her trial before the Council. It was a big pain in the ass finding out where she's been hiding all this time, but this should be the place." She glanced over at Dio and smirked. "Worst case scenario, we bring her back to prison. Best case scenario… we get new fits."

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

Diogo was half-convinced he was about to meet his end. His cause of death? Eloise, driving like the maniac she was. An adorable maniac, yes, but still a maniac. If they managed to survive, she was being demoted to full-time passenger princess. The worst part was his last moments were going to be on this miserable goth-infested planet. Dark, gloomy, and shrouded in mist... Necropolis was nothing like sun-soaked Niamos.

"I didn't know Thelma that well," Eloise said, making casual conversation as she slid around a hairpin turn. "I commissioned her a couple times, but that was pretty much the extent of our relationship. I always thought she was a little weird. It coming out that she and her master were vampires, though—"

"You think everyone's weird," he commented. It was all he could get out as the rapid hairpin turn caused him to be pinned against his side of the speeder. Without knowing anything else about her, Diogo automatically empathized with Thelma. She had an affliction like him.

They jerked to a sudden stop. Diogo's half-digested lunch—a suspiciously delicious bowl of Necropolitan soup—almost rushed back up his throat.

"—I never would've guessed that." She opened the door on her side. "I haven't seen her since her trial before the Council. It was a big pain in the ass finding out where she's been hiding all this time, but this should be the place."

"What happened? Did she bite someone?" Dio asked, opening the door on his side. He wasn't asking so much because he was worried Thelma was a threat, but more because he wanted to know if she was okay. And was she actually hiding, or was that just a turn of phrase?

"Worst case scenario, we bring her back to prison. Best case scenario… we get new fits."

"Might put you in prison for your driving," he teased. "Fethin' menace to society." After padding around the speeder, Dio pulled her in for a kiss and used the distraction to try and take the keys...

Eloise Dinn​

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Eloise actually liked Necropolis quite a bit. She'd always been a bit of a goth at heart, though not enough to dress the part. At least, not on the regular. But she liked the aesthetic and the music and the overall vibe of the planet well enough that she didn't think she'd mind visiting every now and then. Especially on Halloween.

"You think everyone's weird."

"Not everyone," she protested lamely. "I don't think you're weird." Which, all things considered, was a pretty weird thing to say.

"What happened? Did she bite someone?"

Eloise snorted. "I wasn't there to see it myself, I just learned about it afterwards. But from what I remember, Braze overheard Thelma and her master talking about, I dunno, vampire stuff. And you know Braze and his big mouth. They freaked out when they realized he had been eavesdropping, and I think her master attacked Braze. Thelma didn't do anything to try and intervene, so she was hauled in as an accomplice.

"The Council wanted to help her with her vampirism, but she made it sound hopeless. Like she had just given up fighting it." She scratched her head, aware of who she was talking to and to what extent Diogo was likely to empathize with someone like Thelma. But they weren't really the same, right? "She always wore these baggy clothes and long gowns that completely covered her, but you could tell she was really thin and unhealthy looking. I had wondered if she had an eating disorder or something, so I guess she must've been starving herself." Whether to avoid detection or out of moral obligation, she wasn't sure. "What I'm getting at is, for her it isn't like an addiction. She needs to feed to live, unfortunately."

"Might put you in prison for your driving," he teased. "Fethin' menace to society."

"Heh, I like the sound of that." Eloise accepted his kiss, but held her keys out of his reach. "Say 'please' to the menace to society."

Through the fog, the outline of a building could be seen. Just one shop on a strip mall full of other businesses, Thelma's Tailoring was a quaint little place... with a noticeably broken window. "Damn," Eloise murmured as she moved closer, her green eyes picking out bullet holes in the building's facade. "Did this place get shot up recently?"

There was a pretty high chance that Thelma wasn't here anymore, if that were the case. But just to be sure, Eloise crept forward and gently pushed the door open with one hand...

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

"Not everyone," she protested lamely. "I don't think you're weird."

"Okay, weirdo," Dio teased, but then shifted to a serious tone. "I don't actually think you're weird either, for the record."

"I wasn't there to see it myself, I just learned about it afterwards. But from what I remember, Braze overheard Thelma and her master talking about, I dunno, vampire stuff. And you know Braze and his big mouth. They freaked out when they realized he had been eavesdropping, and I think her master attacked Braze. Thelma didn't do anything to try and intervene, so she was hauled in as an accomplice."

"Fethin' Braze," Dio swore under his breath. Now more than ever, he really wanted to beat the snot out of that kid. "What happened to her master?"

"The Council wanted to help her with her vampirism, but she made it sound hopeless. Like she had just given up fighting it."

"What I'm getting at is, for her it isn't like an addiction. She needs to feed to live, unfortunately."

Dio's chest ached. Thelma feeling hopeless, even after help was offered, struck a tender nerve. They were alike, but for her, feeding was survival, not a moral choice. In comparison, the Anzati boy had it... easy? Shame curdled in his stomach, the last few years of wallowing in self-pity were now making him feel juvenile and pathetic.

"But the Council said they could help her?" Anger flared briefly, but he wasn't sure who it was directed at. "Why the hell didn't she try?"

"Heh, I like the sound of that." Eloise accepted his kiss, but held her keys out of his reach. "Say 'please' to the menace to society."

It wasn't the best kiss 'cause Dio was smiling too much. Plus, he kept reaching for the keys, struggling to snatch them from El's grasp as their mouths were pressed together. Eventually, he gave up, pulling away and holding his hand out. "Fine. May I have the keys, please, Ms. Menace?"

After that was settled, it was time for these two bad banthas to get dripped up. Except, the little storefront was decorated with bullet holes and a smashed window.

"Did this place get shot up recently?"

"Shit," he muttered, creeping behind Eloise. She was moving at a frustrating snail's pace. To hell with this. Thelma might not be here, but if she was—she needed saving. Dio sprung up, found his lightsaber suddenly in his hand, and assertively burst through the door at the same time Eloise pushed it open...

Eloise Dinn

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Eloise smiled a little and pushed her hair back from her face, a nervous but earnest gesture. "Thanks babe."

"What happened to her master?"

“He’s in Azrael.” Azrael Asylum was where they sent violent Force User criminals, including Eloise's mother. “Don’t get me wrong, he deserved it. Attacking a Padawan, even if it's Braze, is no joke. I guess I just feel bad for Thelma.”

"But the Council said they could help her?"

“I don’t think the Council had anything concrete in mind, or if they did it was probably shit she'd already tried before." She shrugged. "I dunno. You'll have to ask her.”

Outside the speeder, she grinned and tossed him the keys. Her smile soon faded when she saw the state of the building. Usually it was Eloise who charged in lightsaber blazing while Diogo preferred a more measured approach. But for once the roles were reversed, with Dio rushing through the battered door ahead of her.

The interior of the shop was a mess, littered with dust and debris from the shootout. Mannequins lay dismembered on the floor, tattered rags clinging to their cracked limbs. Other racks and displays had been shredded by gunfire which tore through the walls.

Eloise removed her lightsaber hilt from her belt, ready to fight. But there was no enemy waiting for them, and though the damage to the shop was extensive, it was also not as fresh as it initially appeared. There were brooms and mops and signs of larger pieces of debris having been moved, the beginnings of an attempt at cleanup. Whatever had happened here, they had missed out on the action.

To the right, a splintered wooden counter marked the spot where the register had once been. Behind it was a backroom that seemed more tidied up than the rest of the building. Eloise made her way over there, stepping around piles of broken furniture, until she spotted a familiar figure.

Silhouetted by the orange glow of a fireplace, Thelma sat in a chair, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her head rested on her arm on top of a table, apparently asleep. Even in the dim firelight, Eloise saw that her face was still full of sharp angles and gaunt hollows. Even her hair looked limp and unhealthy, thin auburn strands trailing down her back. Eloise wasn’t sure whether she should be sad that the girl looked so frail, or be glad that it meant she hadn't victimized anyone lately.

Eloise took a cautious step forward, a piece of debris crackling noisily beneath her foot. Thelma’s eyes opened, her pupils glowing from within with a strange violet light. "Who's there?" she whispered, raising her head.

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

“I don’t think the Council had anything concrete in mind, or if they did it was probably shit she'd already tried before."

"Maybe," he said curtly, not ready to accept the reality.

...

Diogo burst through the door and was met with an anti-climactic silence. He looked around. The place was practically like a war zone, riddled with bullet holes, trashed with broken furniture, and littered with torn up merchandize. Not all was as it initially seemed, though, as initial stages of clean-up were visible. As Dio traipsed around the shop, he heard a loud crackling from Eloise's direction, then an unfamiliar voice.

"Who's there?"

Diogo's attention snapped to the source. That had to be their vampiress. "We're friends!" he exclaimed, approaching the back room.

Thelma was so... small. Through the dim firelight, he could see how frail and unkempt she was. A disturbing image of neglect, it almost hurt to look at her. Dio's first instinct was to comfort the seamstress. Without thinking, he haphazardly rushed over, glass and debris crunching under his combat boots. He gently knelt beside the chair, scrutinizing Thelma's little face—all sharp, severe, and sleepy—and then gazed into her strange violet eyes. "I'm Dio. You know Eloise, I think." He gestured to El, waiting for a hint of recognition before he resumed. "Are you alright?"

Eloise Dinn

 

[Eloise Dinn]

"We're friends!"

Eloise shot Dio a look like a deer in headlights, before hastily adding, "Hey, Thelma. It's Eloise Dinn. Do you remember me?"

"I remember—" Thelma started to reply, only for Diogo to suddenly fill her field of vision as he came stomping over, crushing glass and other debris underfoot. When he knelt down beside her, she leaned back slightly, uncertain as to why he was getting so close to her.

"Are you alright?"

"I am... fine," she answered, glancing at Eloise. "It's nice to see you. Sorry about the mess."

Eloise kept her distance, silently hoping Dio would realize he was coming on a little too strong and take a step back. "What happened here?" she asked.

"A shootout."

"I can see that. But why would anyone shoot up a tailor?"

"It's a long story," Thelma murmured. She rose to her feet, removing the blanket from her shoulders. Bony white hands carefully folded it. "But the ones responsible have been taken care of, and the shop is technically open for business again. I just... haven't been keeping the best sleep schedule." She laid the blanket on the counter. As Eloise had described, her dark blue dress covered as much skin as possible. "Can I get you anything? Some water, perhaps?"

Given the state of the place, it was probably all that she had available. "Uh, sure," Eloise answered. "I'll take some water." As Thelma went over to the sink in the back, she shot Dio a wincing look. Doing business with her right now almost felt mean, but at the same time she could use the money to help rebuild the shop... "We were actually hoping to commission you, if you're open."

"Oh?" Thelma's head popped up, clearly interested. If there was one thing Eloise knew about Thelma, it was that the little vamp loved to make clothes. "What did you have in mind?"

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

Thelma was fine and not in danger. Dio blinked. But she looked so meek and sickly, like she needed help... what gives? His instinct to comfort her didn't disappear, but thinned as the sense of urgency bled away.

Dio backed off, letting Eloise and Thelma converse. Apparently there had been a shootout and the ones responsible had been 'taken care of,' whatever that meant. That begged the questions, who were they after and why? Was Thelma the target, or did she have some shady clientele?

When the vampiress went over to the sink, Eloise winced at Dio. He shrugged in return, then meandered towards one of the dismembered mannequins, stopping to brush his hand across the soft silk of a tattered rag.

"Oh?" Thelma's head popped up, clearly interested. If there was one thing Eloise knew about Thelma, it was that the little vamp loved to make clothes. "What did you have in mind?"

The little seamstress perked up, which elicited a smile from Diogo. Eloise was the fashionista of the relationship, so he left space for her to answer Thelma's question, merely chiming in with a, "I hear Darhtagian fashion is pretty cool."

Eloise Dinn​

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Eloise also had lingering questions about what the hell was going on with Thelma. But the vampiress looked so pitiful, she felt sorry for her almost to the point of not wanting to bother. Almost. She was still Eloise Dinn, the bluntest weapon in the Jedi Order’s arsenal. As Thelma handed her a glass of water, she cut straight to the point. “You look like a fething skeleton.”

Thelma hesitated, taken aback by her bluntness. “I eat food every day. It’s enough to keep me alive, but…”

“I get that,” Eloise said, recalling that she had mentioned something along those lines at her trial. She could eat regular food, but it wasn’t all that nutritious for her, barely staving off starvation. “I just thought you’d have figured out a better solution for your, uh… hunger by now.” In fact, Thelma had made it sound like she was going to give in to her urges. That was the whole reason why the Council imprisoned her—not just because she was a vampire, but because she implied she was going to start feeding on people. Yet her present state indicated she was still starving herself.

“There is no better solution.” Thelma sighed. “I don’t do this because I like being weak and malnourished. I do it because the alternative is worse. Not just because people will lose their memories—something they can never get back, unlike blood or energy—but because I absorb the memories I consume. They become a part of me.” Her expression grew incredibly sad, her voice soft and afraid. “My mother went mad because of it. She couldn't differentiate between her own memories and the ones she consumed. I don’t want to end up like her.” Turning away, she hid her face from them, trying to recover her composure. “Now… You said you wanted a commission?”

It was clear Thelma didn’t want to talk about it anymore, and Eloise wasn’t cruel enough to push the issue. “Yeah,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I want something that will help make my hair being two different colors look less weird. A headdress, I guess. Nothing too crazy. Here, I have some pictures…”

While she took out her datapad to show Thelma her ideas, the front door of the shop opened and a cloaked figure stepped inside...

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

Eloise was blunt per usual. Diogo was silently grateful; she often said the things he wanted to but had the decency to keep to himself. The realities of Thelma's condition were horrifying, and hearing her soft, fearful voice was painful. She was a woman resigned, with a quiet, terrible strength about her. Her hands could deftly work the finest silks—he could see that even in the tattered rags—yet the fabric of her mind was a tangled weave. She wore it the best she could. Dio bit back the urge to offer comfort, though the restless sensation it produced made him want to claw off his own skin.

While the two ladies discussed business, Diogo tried to reassemble a dismembered mannequin. An activity to sink his teeth into. To fix something. To feel useful. But the pieces were misshapen, bent, and broken. They didn't fit like they used to. In truth, he felt even more juvenile now, like a toddler playing with the communal toys at the doctor's office while the grown ups talked. After a brief struggle, he steadied the mannequin up on its base.

When the front door opened, a cloaked figure stepped inside. Dio violently swung around, sending the mannequin crashing to the floor behind him.

Eloise Dinn

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Eloise could see Dio attempting to reconstruct the mannequin out of the corner of her eye. His silence spoke louder than words. She had never realized just how similar his and Thelma's stories were. Both had a parent who had gone crazy because of their hunger. Having to deal with her parents' cannibalism had been bad enough. Eloise was glad she didn't live in constant fear that she would become like them. Dio and Thelma weren't so lucky...

Her gaze flicked toward the door as it slid open, then toward Dio as he knocked the mannequin over with a loud crash. He was jumpy. She couldn't really blame him, given the circumstances.

The visitor was quick to pull down his hood, revealing his face. He was an older man with short silver hair, wearing gray robes. "Hello there." Approaching the back, he smiled politely. "I'm looking for Miss Thelma Goth."

Thelma didn't seem to recognize him. "I'll be with you in one moment," she said, while Eloise sent pictures to her datapad.

"Ah, apologies," the man said. "I didn't mean to... interrupt." He trailed off briefly as his gaze swept across the room, landing and lingering on the startled Diogo. His expression betrayed no surprise, though he gave the green-haired Anzat a much more meaningful smile before he turned back to Thelma, who had finished her task. "My name is Anton Crowley. I am the Eastern Master of Cerements. I was hoping to speak to you in private."

Eloise didn't sense anything off about the stranger. He was a little spooky looking, but not any more than the average Necropolitan, and his speech was elegant and refined. Nor did she have a clue what an Eastern Master of Cerements was, but it sounded important. But there was one thing that struck her as rather strange. "Why did he look at you like that?" she whispered to Dio, stepping closer to him.

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

Dio watched with a frightened curiosity as Thelma and Anton disappeared into the back room to speak privately. Something was off about the spooky stranger, but Dio was struggling to put his finger on it, to get a pulse... wait, was that it? The boy's highly sophisticated Anzat senses were telling him: yes, abso-fethin'-lutely. This Eastern Master of Cerements, whatever that was, had no biorhythm.

Normally, small, quotidian things like heartbeats were just background noise to him. His brain processed it and tucked it away. Hardly relevant. But the lack of one? That was unordinary, and unordinary things were too beautiful to ignore.

"You noticed that," he whispered back. Of course she had. Without waiting for a response, Dio gently grabbed Eloise's hand and pressed it to his chest. "What do you feel?" he asked. "...Nothing, right? Anzati don't have heartbeats. That's unique to us, I'm pretty sure." Leveling his gaze at her, Dio's face lit up. "That man doesn't have a heartbeat and I think he knows I don't have one, either."

Eloise Dinn

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Eloise took Diogo's lack of a pulse in stride. How did he breathe and bleed and function without a heartbeat? Who knows, who cares. She'd seen weirder.

"So what does that mean?" she asked. "Is that guy is an Anzat too?" What were the odds...

Her immediate instinct was to rush in and save Thelma before things went horribly wrong. But then she felt ashamed of herself. Diogo was an Anzat, yet he wasn't a danger to them. Why should she assume this guy was a threat just because of his species? He could be just like Dio.

Or he could be the complete opposite. In which case, they were in serious trouble. She'd just have to find out which was the truth. Preferably before they left Thelma alone with the man.

"I can lure Thelma away from him," she suggested in a whisper. "Then you confront him about the whole Anzati thing. That way we're discreet about it, in case, y'know." He was just a nice guy trying to keep his lineage a secret. "Unless you've got a better idea?"

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

If Eloise was disgusted by him, she didn't show it. If he sparkled...

"So what does that mean?" she asked. "Is that guy an Anzat too?"

Dio nodded. "I'd bet my life on it," he answered.

His immediate reaction was exhilaration. The only other Anzat he knew was his father, now little more than a haunting memory. How many Anzati even were there in the galaxy? This rare chance for kinship was not something he intended to let slip away. But Eloise was rightfully concerned. The Anzati were natural predators, designed specifically to hunt, dominate, and consume. Dio's temperance was likely an anomaly for his species, which meant Thelma could be in danger.

"Unless you've got a better idea?"

Dio shook his head. "It's a good idea. Keep Thelma safe and I'll to talk to him." His hand instinctively brushed against his lightsaber hilt, though he didn't plan on using it. "Ready when you are."

Eloise Dinn

 

[Thelma Goth]

The room into which Thelma led Anton was small and served as a makeshift office. There was an old antique desk at the center with a modern office chair, as well as a couple of empty shelves against the far wall. As soon as Thelma closed the door behind them, the Master of Cerements spoke. “I heard about what happened to Han and Marya. I am sorry for your loss, voivode.”

Thelma blinked. Word must have traveled fast about her secret lineage. She was still coming to terms with it herself. But how did this clergyman know her? He must have some connection to the underworld, though nothing about his outward appearance indicated that he was the... type. “Mr. Crowley, what is this really about?” she asked. "Are you really who you say you are?"

“I am myself. And I want to help you.” He took a step forward, spreading his arms. “You have inherited immense power, child. The city of Lamont is under your command. But your power is only as great as those who serve you. There is one man in your service who is a danger to you. He is a sorcerer, a bocor—”

“You're talking about Byron,” she said softly. "I know what he is." I trust what I know. But I don't know what you are, Mr. Crowley. Not yet.

“Then why have you allowed him into your inner circle? Why do you listen to his counsel and let him work his sorcery in your name?” Anton's dark eyes searched her face. “You were a Jedi once. You know the dangers of those who proclaim themselves to be 'Gray Jedi', thinking they can wield both Light and Dark. A bocor claims the Force is a spectrum, every shade and hue ripe for the taking. But it is a lie, for to be all things to all people is to stand for nothing but one's self.”

“Why does it matter to you if he serves me?” she asked. “If you are what you say you are, then you and him are at odds. But you are also at odds with me, Master of Cerements. What do you stand to gain from convincing me to get rid of my bocor?"

Mr. Crowley’s expression twitched, for a moment looking as if he were holding back laughter. But before he could respond, the door was suddenly thrown open by Eloise. “Sorry," she blurted. "I forgot to mention—I wanted to commission something else!" A beat passed, before Eloise hastily added, "Several somethings..."

Thelma glanced from her to Anton. The Master of Cerements raised an eyebrow, more confused than annoyed by the intrusion. "Excuse me a moment," she said, walking over to the doorway. "I must attend to my client. I will be back shortly."

Anton watched as she went with Eloise back into the shop, leaving him alone in the little office room.

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

Eloise coaxed Thelma away from her private meeting. Dio scampered, excitement carrying him like a gust of wind. Muttering a half-hearted excuse about forgetting something, he slipped into the office and shut the door.

Dio found himself face to face with another Anzat. Alone. He should've been afraid, but his eyes gleamed with anticipation.

Instantly, he knew words wouldn't suffice. Anzati possessed a particularly potent form of telepathy, intimate and irresistible, which suited the moment. Auspicious or dangerous, he locked eyes with Anton and reached out to his mind. A grin cracked the boy's face.

<...Sup, dawg. Slurp any soup lately?>

Thelma Goth

 

[Eloise Dinn]

"I want a… a new dress," Eloise said, scrambling for something complicated enough to keep Thelma distracted for a while. She took out her datapad and frantically scrolled through her folders, impulsively selecting the one labeled wedding dress ideas before hastily backing out. "Not too fancy, um… Just like, a regular… uh… casual? And I want it to be… blue."

Thelma didn't comment on the vagueness of her description, busy grabbing a sketchbook from her desk. Eloise was mentally bracing herself for the price tag when Thelma suddenly asked "Are you and Mr. Crowley working together?"

"What?" Eloise blurted, completely caught off guard. She had been so focused on fulfilling her end of the plan, coming up with a spontaneous new project for Thelma to consider, that she hadn't taken into account that the seamstress wasn't stupid. She knew something was up.

"You arrived at almost the same time he did," Thelma continued, meeting Eloise's gaze. "And Diogo never entered that room, so how could he have left something there?"

That was Diogo's excuse?! Eloise groaned. "Dio just wanted to talk to him," she admitted.

Thelma cocked her head. "Why?"

"Because he… thinks he's really cool, I guess."

She wasn't expecting Thelma to buy it, but to her surprise the vamp nodded. "He's quite the local celebrity. When the Senate tried to pass a bill restricting freedom of religion in the Alliance, he represented the voodoo religion."

This was news to Eloise. Anton Crowley definitely didn't seem like such a bad guy. Freedom of religion was based, and if Thelma could believe that was their only reason for—

"Why the ruse, though? He could've just introduced himself."

Eloise swallowed. Lying wasn't one of her strong suits.

---

Mr. Crowley gazed at Diogo with a sad little smile. <I had a feeling you would seek me out,> he said, transmitting his thoughts directly. <I’m afraid I haven’t.>

His voice in Dio's mind was that of a kindly man, almost grandfatherly. He seemed to regard the younger Anzat with disarming sympathy even as he turned his question back on the boy. <What about you?>

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

<I had a feeling you would seek me out,> he said, transmitting his thoughts directly. <I’m afraid I haven’t.>

Mr. Crowley's telepathic voice was warm, amiable, and reassuring. It pulled Dio in. <Did you want me to?> It didn't matter now. Dio was already here, but he wanted to know. He was craving answers, desperate for a fix.

Afraid? That should've been a warning, but Dio ignored it. It was a joke. A turn of phrase. Something innocuous.

<What about you?>

<I've never fed before,> he answered. <You don't feed, right?> It was a leading question. There was one answer the boy wanted, and he was all too eager to accept it at face value. He'd made a calculation without thinking; hanging onto hope was worth the risk of being hung by it.

Eloise Dinn / Thelma Goth​

 

[Eloise Dinn]

<Did you want me to?>

Anton studied him, his expression serene. He had suspected that the boy might try to kill him. It wasn't uncommon for Anzati to see each other as competition for prey. Murdering a rival predator could also double as a free meal, if you were careful. But no. This young man with green hair and big eyes was looking for... kinship. His longing was palpable. He was hoping to find a mirror to his yearning, a cure for his loneliness.

<I'm not sure,> Anton replied, the corners of his eyes crinkling. <It can be dangerous, finding someone like me out in the wild. We're not all good or harmless.>

<I've never fed before. You don't feed, right?>

Oh, this is too precious! Anton suppressed the urge to laugh with malicious glee, instead looking him in the eyes and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear.

"No."

It sounded better when he spoke it out loud. More true and sincere. He held the boy's gaze, letting a bit of good-natured amusement show. <Did you think it was impossible at my age?>

---

It took all of two seconds for Eloise to fess up. Thelma stared at her in silence as everything came tumbling from the tall girl's lips, from Diogo being her Anzat boyfriend to their suspicions about Anton Crowley.

She wasn't sure why she was being so forthright with Thelma of all people. Maybe there was just something about the little vampiress which made her easier to talk to. Eloise hadn't been able to confide in anyone about Diogo—not Resh, not her master, nobody. It was so normal for her to just bottle everything up, she hadn't even really thought about it before. Now she was spilling her guts to a girl she barely knew, purely because Thelma was the one person who would listen and maybe understand a little of what she was going through.

By the end, Thelma was looking at her with wide eyes. "Are you not afraid to love him?"

"I... No." Eloise crossed her arms over her chest. "Diogo isn't a threat to me. Even if he went full snot vampire—which he won't—I could take him easily." Not that she relished the thought of having to kill the man she loved, even if it was a mercy kill.

Thelma's expression remained grave. “When I was a child, my family opened up our home to others of our kind. We welcomed every kind of vampire, so long as they agreed to follow our rules. But the Anzati were always excluded. Their desire to feed makes them single-minded. They will break all laws, shatter every bond, in the name of satisfying their hunger. It consumes them utterly.”

“Yeah, well, he hasn’t given in to it yet,” Eloise shot back. “And he isn’t going to. Not while I'm around.”

She was getting pissed off, but her anger wasn't directed at Thelma. The vamp wasn't judging her, she was just... concerned. As she had every right to be in the presence of someone dumb enough to date an Anzat. No, Eloise was mad at herself—because she was afraid, not to love Diogo, but because she couldn't help it. It had already happened. Whether hormones or circumstance was to blame, it was already too late. And there was no turning off her feelings for him if... when... the time came to put him down.

“Anzati are very long-lived,” Thelma said softly, pulling El from her thoughts. “As they grow older, the chances that they will succumb increase. But you are mortal, so perhaps you won’t live to see it happen.” It was an attempt at reassurance. She looked down at her sketchbook, then added, "I don't mean to pry, but... do you want to have children?"

"I dunno." Eloise hadn't given it much thought. She was only eighteen, after all. But it occurred to her rather abruptly that she probably shouldn't procreate with Diogo. It just didn't feel right, inflicting this shit on her hypothetical future kids. The thought brought an ache in her chest, like she'd just lost something she hadn't even known was a possibility. "Do you want kids?" she asked, turning the question back on Thelma.

"I don't think my body could sustain a child. I can barely keep myself alive on my current diet."

"You could always adopt," Eloise supplied awkwardly, trying to be helpful. She glanced at the closed door, behind which Diogo and Anton were being awfully quiet...

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

<I trust you,> Diogo replied quickly. <You have no reason to lie to me.> He wanted to believe that—needed to.

His fellow Anzat had to understand, to know the pain of feeling utterly alone. Loneliness incessantly clung to Dio like a hungry ghost, threatening to consume him.

But then there was Eloise. She would never fully understand, but her love pulled him from the depths and guided him to the shores of absolution. She was the first person he told his darkest secret to. Without her, lonelines might break him.

And yet, Dio's fear of harming her, of holding her back, of being anything less than what she deserved, created a gap he didn't know how to bridge. After everything she endured, she deserved unfettered happiness. If he couldn't provide that, was he willing to break himself for her? Mr. Crowley suddenly gave him hope that it didn't have to come to that.

"No."

A two letter word that meant everything. The sound pierced his ears, prickling his skin with goosebumps.

<Did you think it was impossible at my age?>

<I don't know,> Dio answered uneasily. <Just how old are you? I'm only eighteen, but it's so hard. The compulsions keep getting stronger.>

Eloise Dinn / Thelma Goth​