Night's Omen

In lieu of the celebration, and the fact that Raphael was closely associated with holidays that brought reminiscence of the dead abound, he had graced the Masquerade with his presence. Along his side, Narkisa, swathed in red satin and a feathered mask, stood silent and watchful, reluctant to leave his presence even for but a moment.

At his other side was the girl formerly known as Delia, who, like Narkisa, through both fear and torment, had learned to accept her new guise of what Raphael had set for her, the parameters in which she needed to exist. He had yet to change her name, as she had not yet made herself a permanent fixture for him, but it was only a matter of time before he decided one way or another. She was clothed in a dress mirroring the brunette Narkisa's, but it was of a rich gold colour with a matching mask.

It was Raphael who finally shook the girls loose, eager to see how they reacted in the crowd. Narkisa he knew would be only as she had been for so long, his loyal wolf, his sweet, fierce Narkisa. Delia, he wasn't so sure about.

Di really couldn't have said why he was there, except that Thane had shown up and Di was technically 'back up' for his brother.  That didn't mean he didn't opt to wander around and see who was there and what they were doing.  He was just glad that Maeve had declined the offer to attend.  He knew that she didn't want to get anymore involved with this world than she had to be, and that was why he didn't prefer to show up to these things, but he wasn't about to let Thane go play with a bunch of vamps alone.  Even now, he'd asked his brother where to find him if they lost track of each other.

He was about to lose track of a lot of things.

The fog floating around obscured and confused some things, including scent, but there were certain smells, certain things that were impossible to miss.  Like a young woman, a wolf.  He had no idea who she was, considering he didn't think he'd ever seen her before and she wasn't sporting the red hair characteristic of the Westing family, but if she was new to the area, he was interested in meeting her, at least.  Or, he thought so right up until he approached her, opened his mouth to speak, and caught her eyes through that mask of hers.  Wolf eyes.  That didn't happen for no reason, and even his brother's eyes weren't anywhere near that canine.  Thane had spent a lot of time in wolf form between Amaya and his recovery, and if his didn't look this bad after that amount of time, it worried Di about this girl instantly.

"Hello, I'm sorry, I couldn't help noticing your eyes.  They're...lovely," he told her, smiling, but he was really hoping she'd shed some light on the situation.  "I'm Diarmid, what's your name?"

No last names.  His first name was uncommon enough.

Narkisa breathed in the musky scent of the wolf who stopped to speak to her, and was constantly amazed by how many complemented her liquid amber eyes as beautiful. Even Raphael had, so it must have been true, but she knew well what caused it. Once they had been brown, but that was something she didn't remember well. In fact, the entire thought was silly - they were beautiful because Raphael said so, and they were this way because he wanted them to be. That was all she needed.

She lowered her mask and smiled, and the sight of Narkisa was a beautiful thing to behold, taken man or not. She smelled strange, not quite like the normal feminine scent of a wolf, but almost like... cinnamon. It was something about her, something strange. One would never guess she was approaching her 223rd year if they did not know any better, but the scent of fire was still ever-present enough to confuse. It was faint enough that it could have been a perfume, but a wolf's nose would know better - a trained one, anyways.

"Why, thank you," she said. Her voice was low and soft, distinctly female, with an accent that seemed hard to place and very faint. "I'm Narkisa. Are you... local?" she asked, not sure how to determine his area. "From what I understand, there is a wolf pack here, though I've never met them." Not that she would've wanted to. Narkisa didn't need the company of wolves to feel complete. She was complete, she had been completed many, many years prior.

Di wouldn't ever have denied that her eyes were beautiful, which was why he'd made the comment, but they worried him more than anything because of what they meant.  One of his brother's ex-girlfriend's cousins had animal eyes, but that was the only situation where he'd heard of it and it hadn't been for a rotten reason.  He hadn't actually seen that kid, but he could imagine.  Anyone else, though?  Not good.

Another thing he never could have denied was that SHE was beautiful, and it almost made him glad that Maeve wasn't around, or he'd never hear the end of this just because he 'happened' to choose a gorgeous woman to talk to, amongst all these people.  So he was a little shallow sometimes.  It didn't mean he'd have wanted to take her, or anyone else, over Maeve.  Especially with the smells she was putting off.  For as beautiful as she was, she had some interesting scents to her, including a nice cinnamon-y smell that almost managed to help the natural, musky scent of wolf off-put another, less friendly smell.  He almost would have said fire, or maybe smoke, but that didn't quite make sense, did it?  He tried to hide the curiosity in his eyes and instead covered it with the movement of removing his own simple mask.  He hadn't gone for anything complicated, rather preferring not to play dress-up for a vampire prom night.

"Actually, yes, I am.  My brother runs the local wolf-pack," he told her, taking in that subtle little accent and the pleasant sound of her voice with interest.  She definitely wasn't local.  "Are you new to the area?  Where are you from?"

"Ah, I see. Is your brother here as well, or are you the only one feeling diplomatic enough to attend?" she asked, and the question was honest, not patronizing, easily told by her tone. She studied him a bit more, familiarizing herself with him. It could be confused with a natural lupine curiosity, but Narkisa well knew how to size up an opponent. Raphael would not take kindly if she were merely standing there thinking lustful thoughts, which was the furthest thing from her mind. She had little eyes for other men.

Strange that they were thinking something of the same thing at the same time.

"New, somewhat. I'm actually from a place in Europe that you've probably never heard of that doesn't exist anymore, anyways," she said with a small laugh. She sometimes forgot how old she really was. She didn't feel old, not really. Raphael's bloodbond was enough to keep her feeling like a pup for as long as she was tied to him, and that was fine with her.

"Is the local pack large?" she asked curiously. She knew, somewhere in the back of her head, what 'pack' was, what her pack had been. She didn't really remember that she had been contending for the spot of Lupa, nor did she care. She had a much more satisfactory position now, anyways.

"He's around," he responded vaguely, shrugging as though it didn't much matter, which it didn't as far as he was concerned.  "He's definitely the diplomat, though.  I'm just here for comic relief."  Naturally, he was kidding.  He was there to ensure that Thane wasn't alone for long with vampires, despite Bruja's presence.  He'd just promised that he wasn't going to follow his brother around like a shadow all night, so this was his break.

He'd have actually been pleased to know that she was sizing him up, considering he always made it a point to come off as being as harmless as possible when he met new people, especially shifters.  He made jokes, seemed very casual, and admitted that he wasn't the big boss in town.  He liked surprising people.  Of course, he hadn't summed Narkisa up correctly either, so they'd both be in for a shock.  She seemed to play the same sort of game he did, just from a different angle.  It was sad on his part that any of his habits were similar to hers, given her mental state.

"Doesn't exist anymore?" he asked, looking at her curiously and tilting his head ever so slightly, though he continued on to answer her question.  "It's growing, slowly but surely."  He didn't need to explain that there had recently been a merge.

"Comic relief? That's a pity, the jester always gets screwed in the end," she said. On that note, someone in an evil jester costume bounded by, and began inexplicably attacking one of the bells on their collar. She suppressed a laugh and raised an eyebrow, before looking back at Diarmid. "My own pack was small. Maybe fifteen or twenty, but that was when I was much younger." What she described as small would now be a medium where this was concerned, however Narkisa really was blithely unaware of how numbers and times had changed.

She'd opened her mouth to say something else when Delia's hand planted on her shoulder, and slid away quickly. "Raphael wanted me to find you and..." she said, and trailed off into a stammer as she recognized Diarmid almost instantly.

She didn't have her mask on, for whatever reason, and felt somewhat exposed at the moment. Her hair was a stunning shade of red, brighter than it had been when she was just a 'normal high school student' thanks to expensive, exotic shampoos that she was to use. It was long, gathered in an elegant half-up, half-down hairstyle, and curled tightly. She wore makeup, too, and looked years older than her age. Even her eyes had that amber ring around them. Raphael's pets seemed to get that pretty fast.

Narkisa turned her head sharply to snap at Delia, literally, for touching her, but the girl remembered herself quickly enough and had removed her hand. She'd have to have been blind to miss that look of recognition in her eyes, though, and turned back to the male wolf. She would wait, for now. Wait and see. If he tried to attack her, though, Narkisa would rip off one of his arms.

There was no way in Hell Diarmid didn't recognize Delia instantaneously, and any smart comment he might have had in response to the 'jester' remark or her mention of her pack completely died in his throat.  If he could have put out a mental summon for his brother in that instant, he would have.  As it was, he knew Thane wasn't going to be showing up right then. 

"Delia?" he asked, though he knew it was her, if only for the way she'd looked at him.  The changes in her scared the Hell out of him.  "Jesus Christ, your family's been worried sick.  Are you okay?"

Sure, he sounded merely concerned and shocked, but he was quickly establishing the fact in his mind that if it got ugly, Delia probably wouldn't be on his side, and Narkisa was going to try to tear his head off.  He could bet on that.  "What am I saying, of course you're not.  God, look at your eyes."  Yep, never a good thing to see that, and she hadn't been gone nearly long enough for that to have been a very gradual thing.  She must have been living in wolf form anymore. 

"What? My eyes? What's wrong with my eyes?" she asked, her voice suddenly high pitched. She looked from Diarmid to Narkisa, obviously unaware of what he was talking about.

"There's nothing wrong with your eyes, Delia," Narkisa assured her, voice lower and more smooth than Delia had ever heard before from her. It was meant to calm her down, obviously, though Narkisa didn't know how well it worked. She knew Raphael could sense her mild distress and there would be no doubt of his appearance in only a moment. She had to diffuse this situation. "They look exactly as they should."

"My family?" she said again, as though she didn't understand the question. "I'm fine. I've been living in my new home, but... I'm fine. Why do you look so freaked out?" There was her normal vocabulary, at least. She really was a bit mixed up, here - thank God Raphael hadn't taken to calling her something else, or it would've been all over for Diarmid.

No sooner had she spoke than Raphael did indeed appear, sliding an arm carefully around Narkisa's waist. He could feel her unease, and he did not like it. This was not the time, nor the place, for a scene, and while it looked like Delia was trying, it also looked like it would be an attempt made in vain.

"Delia lives with us now," he said simply to Diarmid. "Is that all, or would you like to upset my wolves some more?" His tone was challenging, as though he dared him to start a fight.

"What are they doing to you?" he demanded, obviously upset by seeing her this way, and he shot a dark look at Narkisa when she assured Delia that her eyes were the way they should be.  "Bullshit!  You were kidnapped, your family is trying like Hell to find you, and if your eyes are looking like that, you are NOT fine!"

He just stared at her for a second, and then, just in time, happened to notice Raphael.  So THIS was the bastard vampire who'd done this.  "We've been looking for you.  We want our wolf back.  She's one of ours, and I don't give a shit what psycho you paid to bring her to you, she still has a pack and a family that want her back," he told Raphael in a voice that was quickly becoming a low growl.  Thane needed to get his ass over there, before Di had to deal with two wolves and a vampire on his own. 

It wasn't like he was just going to lay down for a belly rub, though.  This bastard had stole one of the Westings, and though the pack merge was recent, Di knew how it felt to lose one of your family to Midnight, and he'd been surprisingly lucky that they got his brother back.  He wasn't about to just give up on someone else's daughter and sister.

A low growl emitted from the depths of Narkisa's throat that was unsettling, to say the least, and even caused Delia to step back. She'd never heard her so aggressive before - even when she was being a, well, a bitch, Narkisa had never done that. She moved to shake Raphael off of her, and was about to just attack Diarmid right there in the middle of everything. There was the problem with being feral-on-a-string. Rational thought went out the window at the slightest hint of a threat.

Raphael kept his grip on Narkisa as she tried to pull away, and turned his head, whispering into her ear, "Patience is a virtue, my dear." She stopped what she was doing immediatly, and neither smiled nor made any outward faces at Diarmid. It was Raphael who released her, stepping forward and directly into the wolf's personal space.

"Would you like to see precisely why making demands of me is a bad idea, wolf?" he asked, his voice low and angry. Raphael was normally quite level headed, but in a social situation where someone made to ruin all his fun, he was swift with his punishments. Screw the rules, the wolf had, in front of Delia and Narkisa, started this little confrontation, and he wasn't about to just accept the slight and move on.

"This is why it's such a bad idea." He smiled that demonic smile as the two female wolves watched on, unseen visions of Diarmid's family being ripped apart dancing across the male wolf's eyes. The scene that seemed a dream suddenly became a reality, and Diarmid could feel the blood and hear the cries of his little girl as men broke her and beat her, while his son was continuously attacked by rabid dogs for sport, crying out to him. And it only got worse from there.

Raphael only tilted his head at this notion.

Fortunately for Diarmid, the horrors before his eyes were actually just in his head, meaning they weren't really happening, but that didn't make them seem any less real to him.  He didn't know it, but he'd gone stiff, staring at nothing as his jaw clenched  and he started breathing hard and fast.  In his head, he was absolutely terrified and channeling it into a horrible rage as he fought against an unseen force in an attempt to save his children.  His raging form wouldn't shift, which should have further clued him in that this couldn't possibly be real, but it had the dreamlike unawareness that you were actually IN a dream clinging to it, and he grew ever more desperate as the seconds in his mind ticked on.  That helplessness as he watched his children die horrible deaths was the worst part, and who could really blame him when his fury had faded entirely into desperation and finally just dead defeat. 

He'd failed them.  They were dead because he wasn't good enough, because he wasn't strong or smart enough to get to them.  It was his fault.

By the time he was released from that Hell, he just dropped.  On his knees, his eyes shut against tears that even he couldn't stop from falling, it actually took him a few moments to actually understand that he was back at the Masquerade, that his children weren't there or dying, and that the vampire had to have been the cause of it, given his words right before it happened.  Trembling, trying to pull himself together, he felt that rage building up again to take the place of that fear.  He wasn't going to attack, though.  He couldn't face that again. 

That leech would pay, though.

While Narkisa had seen this many times, Delia had never seen him exact his power upon someone else besides her. She uttered a small cry of shock as Diarmid dropped to the ground, tears springing from his eyes. She wanted to go to him, but she knew that she would end up beside him if she did. Instead, she remained stationary, at the opposite side of the vampire.

"Yes. My wolves. Anymore questions, boy?" he asked, his voice but a hiss. "Would you like to invite anyone else to test my patience? I know plenty of trainers in Midnight not as elegant as myself who would love their chance at breaking the local pack up, so I suggest you just tuck your tail back between your legs and go back to your own, before I lose my temper."

There was a thunderous sort of promise in that last bit about losing his temper that should've encouraged Diarmid to go, and quite quickly.

"No," he said, and that was it.  Whether it was to Raphael's question regarding him inviting anyone else, or defiance about running away, he didn't make clear, but he knew in his own mind that this wasn't over.  He couldn't believe that the Westings would accept that Delia was lost to them anymore than he had accepted that Thane was lost, and they all knew where that had gotten them.  Thane was back and fit to lead, so there was certainly something to be said for fighting back.  If Di had to hide his family away from even his own mind's awareness to deal with this bastard, he would.

He wasn't going to scramble away in terror, either.  He may have still be trembling and shaken by what was just done to him, but he made it a point to reclaim his feet and look the vampire directly in the eye.  He wasn't going to be the weakling who was chased off by the big scary vampire.  "We'll see who she belongs with."  He turned to Delia then, and he truly felt bad leaving her, but he wasn't stupid.  Rash, impulsive, but not entirely without a thought to himself.  He knew he couldn't bring her home alone, and not tonight.

"I'm sorry.  Hang in there," he told her in a quieter tone, though that wasn't to keep the vampire or Narkisa from hearing.  He didn't care if they heard, and really, he knew that him telling Delia that really didn't help her any, but he was honestly going to do whatever he could to help her.  He had to leave now, though.  He couldn't help her if he couldn't help himself.

Raphael only smiled, that dark laugh lost in the commotion of the crowd as the wolf slunk back to his own. The gears in his diabolical mind were already turning, deciding what to do with this slight he had been given. He looked pointedly at Delia, whose eyes only widened. She took a step back, and chose to look at the ground, which was a smart move on her part.

No, she wouldn't do. Narkisa, however... He looked back to the dark-haired lupine as she stood, silent as death, awaiting further purpose. He placed a light kiss on her cheek and slid from her side, taking Delia by the hand.

"My dear," he said, "I believe it is your bedtime." And in that, he meant actual bedtime - Delia was too young for his taste.