Dark Heart Dawning

[Mya Shadow]

"Early morning. Same for me, too," she said. "But I was gone when you arrived." She wondered how the girls at the club had fared - if they had gotten out or not. Zaine had known that she had known something, she was certain of that, but she didn't think he understood what precisely she knew, just that she did know. "That stupid dog hit me in the head," she said, referring to Cerberus. The mark he'd made, the bruise he'd left when he'd hit her, was already gone. Of course. Mya had extra-special care instructions on her label, but that didn't mean exceptions wouldn't be made.

"Take a lot more than that?" she parroted. "Stupid cat," she said, pressing against the bars now, wrapping her long fingers around them so that he could see her more fully. Her brilliant cyan and emerald eyes were lidded, clouded by a long fan of black lashes and makeup still applied, because Mya was valued for her beauty. She smiled again, and it was a knowing and dangerous smile.

"When they come, you won't be so daring," she informed him, words but a harsh whisper.

As if on cue, she closed her eyes sharply, a pained expression crossing her face. She could feel that sense of dread swelling up in her belly, and she released the bars as though something in the cell had dragged her off, throwing her weight backwards and scurrying to the far corner of the cell. She was still in what she'd worn at the club, which was very little, and all she had in the cell was a rough blanket, which she now wrapped around herself, trying to hide. She managed to wedge herself to a point beneath the tiny and fractured wooden bench so that no light could reach her, and she hid under the lumpy, uncomfortable cloth, breath so still it may as well have been not at all.

Just a half-second after that, the door swung open, and the scent of madness and fear slid down the hall like an impending darkness, distorted child's laughter. There was no presence, and then a form took shape, mostly of shadow, at the top of the doorway. He walked down the step slowly, deliberately, and passed each cell with leisure, as though he enjoyed simply walking the corridors and oozing that terrifying sensation from his very aura. Raphael did indeed enjoy that, of course, but he was specifically interested in the location of one item in particular, and it had been expressed to him that she had been seen last in the dungeons.

He passed through slowly, eyes sweeping the cells and other various nooks and crannies, though he didn't seem to find whatever it was he wanted in particular. He paused by Mya's cage, rapping on the bars and laughing his low and throaty laugh to himself - just a sort of "Heh" noise, but it was enough to send a chill up her spine and cause her to nearly faint in horror. He was gone after that, the door swinging shut with a bang.

Mya stayed where she was.

[Darren Liten]

Oh, daring had nothing to do with it.  He was damn certain that he wouldn't give a shit about the time once someone actually focused their attention on him, and it would be a sheer will to survive that gave him any ability to fight.  He wasn't a peacock, and was therefore required to be more 'daring' than her.  It was a law of nature.

Speaking of 'nature', he had utterly no ability in the first few seconds that Raphael's power swept through to even move, and then when he did it was to leap towards the portion of his cell furthest from the vampire.  There, he nearly shifted, just out of an instinct to protect himself better while he was unarmed as a human.  He held that off, but couldn't prevent the growl or a partial shift.  In the dark, human eyes would have never noticed it, and the vampire seemed to utterly ignore him, so all was well.  It was stupid when he had the brain capacity to think through the fear and dread that had washed over the whole area, since he'd run the risk of drawing attention to himself, but christ.  That kind of power drew a primal sort of reaction, that deep, horrible fear of something lurking in the dark waiting to eat you.  Even for a predator like a leopard, that power warned of a bigger predator.

That, and he was in a cage.  It wasn't helping.

It took a few minutes even after the door slammed for the fear to slowly creep out after the vampire, lingering effects crawling over his skin like insects and making him feel sick inside.  That he could see being enough to get him.  He was in deep shit, here.

"Fuck this noise, I'm done," he hissed, running a hand through his hair, then feeling disgusted in himself when he realized that he HAD slipped in shifting.  He reversed it, sitting against the cool wall and shivering a little.  He wanted OFF this ride.

[Raphael Aristos]

It had been an hour or so since he'd last been down there. He knew the peacock was for Taran, but it struck him as idiotic that the guard should be given a pet. Raphael hadn't really been privy to the full story, either, or he might have understood, but as it stood at the moment it seemed more like favouritism on Verity's part. He wouldn't openly complain, but he was discontent all the same. He didn't even really desire the Phasi, to be honest. He'd never been partial to birds, especially blonde ones. Still, her eyes were utterly exquisite to look at, and he did so freely, watching her try to hide herself beneath the tiny bench in the cell.

  He reached out slowly, deliberately, fanning his power out in such a way that she could feel it coming on. She tried to hide even more at first, and then she began to whimper. He could detect speech in her whining, the words 'please' and 'stop' appearing frequently, but those were two things Raphael didn't ever really respond to. He just pushed harder, causing her to cry. He didn't know what she was seeing, and he didn't care. It wasn't until the cat in the other cell made a distressed noise than did he turn around and direct his attention elsewhere.

By the scent of him, Raphael could figure several details - he smelled Bacchae, for one, the faintest scent of old wine and blood betraying the ancient vampire's followers. He could smell cat, naturally, and he could smell the chemical clinging to his clothing that they'd used to drug him. "Still here? Not bought and paid for yet, it seems. I don't even recall seeing your name on a held list... I guess that means you're a free agent?"

  Raphael had reeled his power back in for the most part, but it was there, pressing just at the edges of Darren's personal space. It was like a bear trap that was set directly around him, ready to snap shut at any second. Raphael seemed to only need a reason.

[Darren Liten]

In the hour since Raphael had last walked through the dungeons (had he gone out to terrorize others, or was he manning the desk at Midnight?), Darren had checked out every last corner of his cell in search of a weak point. Naturally, anything that could have been useful had been taken from him, and he even tried shifting to see if he might be able to make something budge, use claws or teeth to his advantage, or even see something that he couldn't.  By the time he'd realized that there was nothing he could do, he was feeling pretty desperate.  Maybe if he was here and starved for a few weeks, he could get out through the bars, but Andrew had been working to build him up, not make him thinner.  He had very little hope that he would be forgotten long enough for all of that to work.

Yeah, he was lucky that he'd been left to examine the cell that was currently his whole world for that long, and then there was that slow creeping dread again.  It made it clear that Raphael was on his way in again, and this time, Darren didn't sit there and stare like a moron.  As soon as he felt it, he was in the furthest corner of the cell, eyes closed and hoping that Raphael wouldn't look over (he felt bad for Mya, but she wasn't anyone he knew or cared about, nor was she particularly nice, so he wasn't risking his neck for her).  Of course, even keeping his trap shut and staying in his corner as far from the vampire that was radiating fear all over the place, Darren was getting plenty of overflow from Mya's cell.  Raphael was pouring it over her, reaching and pushing more for all of her crying and whimpering, and it was spreading out from her in toxic waves that were sweeping Darren himself up while they were at it.

His heart was pounding furiously and a cold sweat had started even before Raphael had focused on him at all, and he was trembling both with the fear that Raphael was putting out and the effort not to give in to a shift.  He knew it was irrational to think that shifting would help him at all, but that didn't stop the instinct from sticking with him.  If his eyes weren't already feline-green like Persephone's, they certainly would have been now, and it was the smaller things he was currently slipping on.  Just a little length on his teeth and nails, a little slipping with his senses (which was making it worse; Mya REEKED of terror), and a choked sound that was something between human and cat that also managed to draw Raphael's attention.

FUCK.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, he was so fucked.

Raphael drew his power back in, and really, that was all that saved Darren right about then.  It was all that allowed him human reasoning and the ability to form words, but he could feel it where it laid in wait, closing in and ready to swallow him up.  He sat up suddenly with the attention that was on him, one knee on the floor while the other leg was drawn up under him.  It wasn't like he could do anything, but something felt wrong about cowering there with his back against the wall.  If he had to be cornered, he wanted to at least be upright and with his foot on the ground. 

"You can't keep me here, I'm freeblood.  Persephone, Verity, I have to see them," he told this freaky vampire in a wavering voice, and he probably should have just kept his mouth shut and hoped that Raphael got bored; one of the other vampires had to be less horrible, but did he really want to let them cycle through and torment him until he could find one that wasn't scary as hell to make the request to?  Persephone had said to ask for Verity, so he was.  He didn't really know who she was, but if Persephone thought he needed her, then he was all about it, especially right then.

[Raphael Aristos]

 The problem was that Persephone had never imagined Darren would be in a cell. She would have warned him the weight of Verity's name if he didn't ask for her in a specific way, so just throwing it out there was liable to invoke the mega rage from the people who loved her. Raphael fell into that group, and it showed on his face in a smoldering ire as Darren brought her name up.

"How dare you speak my Mistress' name," he growled. He pushed out with his power so hard that in the next cell, Mya began screaming as she envisioned growing old and terribly fat. He ignored her for the moment as he stepped closer to the bars. That bear trap that had been hinged precariously around Darren snapped shut, plunging him into a horrible reality where everyone he loved had been ripped apart, their intestines strung out like decorations for a party. And that wasn't the worst part of it.

"You have no right to speak her name; you sully her honor just by thinking of her!" he yelled.

And suddenly, the power dropped off like a flash. Raphael's jaw was at an awkward angle and then he toppled over, blood spraying out of his mouth and nose.

[Persephone]

Well, Persephone had been having a lovely time of this evening. So far she'd been helping with the crew to cast a terrifying drag net of carnage over the city. But it was time to go home, and that was made clear when Kronos called and told her that someone had shown up at Midnight that he felt she'd be interested in. Another cat, he said. And he told her she "might want to come home."

Well, fuck. She turned her own Corvette around so fast she almost smashed it, but she was quick with her hands and feet, and managed to straighten it back out. By the time she got to Midnight, she was running up the steps and through the door. She nearly knocked Ember over as she headed to the dungeon area, and the captain of the Raven guard grabbed her by the arm and spun her around.

"Persephone, what's wrong?" she exclaimed.

"Ember!" she practically shouted. "A cat - a leopard shifter, has he been brought in?"

The Raven's brow furrowed for a moment as she thought. "Yes, he's in a cell. The Bacchae got him a few hours ago. Why, is he yours?" she asked, her head tilted. Persephone was one of the only people that Ember actually considered a friend, which was funny given how cruel everyone in Midnight was. But it wasn't like she could befriend any of the people who worked under her, so people who were on her level of power were the only option she had.

"He's something," she said, frowning. She cocked her head to the side, lime green eyes wild. "Who's down there with him?"

Ember's face formed one of shock. "Oh, God. Raphael is. He was looking for me, and I was going there, but then Verity called me up here because she said that she was reassigning Taran, and - "

But Persephone had already turned and was running. She was in her human form, but she was running at full speed, and in such a frenzy that she shifted without really considering it. Of course, she was so much more cat than human that it wasn't as though it would have taken much thought to begin with. She crashed through the doors and raced down the stairs, just in time to see, with her feline eyes, Raphael attempting to drive Darren insane. She could feel the fear rolling off of him in waves, but fortunately, Rajz had skilled her in the art of shielding, and in her feline form, shit just didn't work right on her.

She shifted back into her human form as she came within a few feet of him. She still had such momentum that when she swung her powerful arm around, she connected with his face so hard that she knocked him ass over end. She actually hurt her hand a little when she hit him, but it felt good, too. She'd been wanting to do that for a long time, and now she had a reason.

"HE ASKED TO SEE VERITY, YOU FUCKING TAKE HIM TO SEE HER," she roared. She followed with a swift kick to the chest, cracking his sternum with her steel-toed boot. Persephone was the only female who could make them look both sexy and fashionable, it seemed, and she sure as fuck knew how to use them. But the kick wasn't enough - she'd grabbed him by his shirt and slammed him into the bars of an empty cell - she actually slammed him a few times, for good measure. Then, suddenly, she dropped him on his ass.

[Verity Celestino]

"I think, my dear, you've made your point," Verity said. God, where the fuck had she even come from? She stood in the doorway, her arms folded neatly beneath her breasts. Her brows were raised in - amusement? Her full lips formed a smile, and it was hard to deny that she did not look anything less than radiant. She seemed to remain there for an extra moment, for emphasis, and then began to descend into the room, no sound but the clicking of her heels.

"Raphael, Ember is upstairs. Please go attend to her," she said. Her voice was soft and sweet, like a warm spring breeze. Of course, there were warm spring breezes everywhere. Auschwitz, for example. She did not lift a finger to help the vampire up, watching with those ethereal silver eyes as he stood immediately. He seemed to forget he'd just had the shit kicked out of him.

"Of course, Mistress," he said. He nodded to her, and then literally hauled ass out of the dungeons.

She turned to Persephone, who looked shell-shocked. "And can you show me what is so utterly important that you made a mess of one of my favourite trainers?" she asked brightly. There was a danger ebbing in the room at that moment, pressing down on the walls. It was Verity, and she was actually allowing herself to be a little... annoyed. She hoped it was a good reason coming from Persephone's mouth, but when the girl just gestured to the cage, Verity understood.

"Ah, and who have we here? Come closer, darling, so I can see you. Don't be afraid," she cooed. "I won't bite."

Famous last fucking words, right?

[Darren Liten]

Darren had a second of warning, maybe a few seconds while Raphael's power rose up like a tsunami wave that was going to smash into the shore and everyone stupid enough to be stuck there, and though it may not have actually been visible, the terror that power held was nearly tangible.  It threw Darren's pulse into overdrive, threw the cat that had been lingering ridiculously close to the surface into a fit, and he had NOWHERE.  TO.  GO.  He hissed at the impending wave, the attempt at aggression while cornered and trapped not much different from a predator turned prey facing down a hunter with a gun, and it had exactly the same result; the attack fell, and Darren was in no way able to do a damn thing to protect himself.

So much for asking for Verity.

The hiss exploded into a scream that quickly turned from human to feline as the terror and his own dangerous heartrate threw him from one form into the next (Darren, by his own fault, was too much cat to resist switching forms under duress), but both cat and human would have suffered the same.  He saw people dying, people that he'd always thought were powerful and invincible, the people that could never have fallen, all dead, all dying, all in agony.  Connor's lifeless eyes staring at him from a pool of blood and Chase's tears streaming down her face, his mother's lithe grace unable to save her from the onslaught and his father cut down in a gory mess trying to save her, Ash overwhelmed, Anthony and Chloe, Danielle, PersephoneDaveandrew.  Everyone he'd ever loved or respected, torn apart and screaming, all in front of his face.  He could smell the gore, feel the heat of it spattered on his face to the chorus of screams and choking.

Then, suddenly, it all stopped.

He lay trembling in the corner on the cold stone floor, panting and unsure that he could even draw enough breath to survive yet in danger of hyperventilating, and like a fog was lifting, the sounds of screaming and violence returned.  These seemed somehow distant, though they were just on the other side of the bars, but the rest was in such vivid technicolor brightness that the rest of the world seemed dim in comparison, and hearing Persephone's voice over the sounds of violence had to be impossible.  He'd seen her guts strewn across the floor as her bright green eyes went dark, he'd lost her, it was impossible that she was there.

Or was it?

He couldn't tell, couldn't figure out if this was real or if it was just another level of the place that was about to turn sour when a silvery, musical voice drifted through the violence.  He shivered again at the sound, the soft feel of it brushing against his raw mind in a way that felt both soothing and painful at the same time.  He'd have been content to be utterly ignored at this point, but there was no denying that Raphael's complete removal from the room was an instant improvement.  Still, he didn't move as that voice like little twinkling bells spoke again, this time with an entirely different aura of danger rising up from the darkness around them.  If it were at all possible, he pressed further back against the wall, the damp of the stone seeping into his fur and making him colder, but he couldn't get far enough away from that feeling, couldn't get far enough away from all of it.  

He wasn't following the conversation, might not have even been able to right then (if he'd had words available to him and been asked, he might not have been able to offer his own name immediately), not after having the force of Raphael's rage directed at him.  He'd had no way of understanding Raphael's psychotic love for Verity, had no way to know that just saying her name would throw the trainer into the kind of rage that could unravel someone, and the images that had been tearing through his mind would have been bad enough if not for the illogical, inescapable madness of utter terror.  He'd have been more fine with Verity and dead-but-not-dead Persephone talking amongst themselves, but Persephone didn't respond in any way that he heard, and why should she?  The dead couldn't talk, could they?  Of course they couldn't.

Still, the lady with the musical voice and dangerous dark turned her attention on him, and he didn't really understand her promise right then, but he knew subconsciously what she wanted.  She'd beckoned him closer, and whereas before he'd been desperate to be as far from Raphael and then her, he was terrified now to risk not doing as she'd asked.  It was with a sense of urgency that he'd never displayed before (even to escape his mother's notice for something he'd done as a kitten, or under Andrew's training) that he shot forward, belly close to the ground.  He was afraid to get too close, but more afraid to make her ask again that he come closer, so he was nearly at the bars when he stopped to essentially just cower there and shake.  He flicked his bright green eyes up at her for a moment, more to see if the dark and danger surrounded her the way that Raphael's dread did, and when he found that it somehow didn't, he still flicked his eyes away.  If this was Verity and just saying her name got him that kind of a response, he didn't know what looking at her was going to cost him.  He'd turned his gaze to the other person there, to Persephone, and it didn't make sense.  She was alive and whole, then dead and torn apart, then alive and whole again, like images flickering on a bad TV.

[Verity Celestino]

Verity reached out and unlocked the door of the cell Darren was in, motioning for him to come out. "Come on," she coaxed, as one might talk to a cat who was viewing snow for the first time. "Come on, it's okay," she encouraged. Her voice was soft and high, and she used that Triste ability to calm him down.

"Hm, that took all of sixty seconds for Raphael to do," she observed, crouching down to cradle the jaguar's head in her hands as she stroked his fine fur. She looked back up at Persephone, her silver eyes gleaming. "I wonder how Narkisa puts up with his tantrums every day." She spoke so casually, so idly, that it was disturbing.

Persephone couldn't help but snort a little. She regarded Verity with high respect, obviously, but as she worked directly for she, Niall, and Midnight Europe, she'd seen a little too much to cross herself and worship at their feet. Which was fine. If they'd wanted Persephone to be a lap dog, they'd have gotten someone else.

"She tunes him out by now, I bet," she said. She glanced back up as Kronos' dark form suddenly shadowed the doorway, blocking the light of the stairwell behind him. It made him appear a ghastly, ghoulish silhouette outlined in white for a split second, and then he emerged forward.

"Mm, something," Verity observed of Persephone's statement. Narkisa must have been so exposed to his power that it didn't traumatize her like it did others, that much was obvious by the lifetime she'd spent at Raphael's side versus the quick minute Darren had been plunged into his ire.

"Ah, Kronos," Verity cheered, standing slowly. "Are you checking on us?" she teased. "Do be a love and tell Niall I'll be occupied otherwise for a few moments, won't you?" she requested, her voice still as high and sweet as ever. She turned back to Darren.

"Let me see you, pet," she said, and while it sounded like a request, those were often commands disguised as allowing someone the idea of their own free will. She absently put a hand on Persephone's shoulder as she waited. She and Persephone were identical in height, but Verity was wearing heels for the moment, so she was slightly taller. Still, she waited patiently, her hand a casual thing, as one friend might do in a moment of laziness.

[Darren Liten]

Darren could feel like a moron later, when he'd recovered somewhat, and he would.  Raphael had traumatized the hell out of him, exposed him to a level of fear that made Purezza seem like nothing, shaken his grip on reality and now there was Verity, who for all of her sweet voice was still obviously dangerous.  Add in Persephone, who he thought he'd just seen die, and he didn't know what the fuck to do, but he knew he couldn't take another go right then.  Where normally, he'd have tried to just keep his mouth shut and hope that Persephone had his back enough to get him the hell out of dodge, he wasn't sure if she was even actually there, considering she looked healthy and safe.

As Verity unlocked the door, he flinched back a few millimeters, not actually moving so much as leaning away from the door (imagine that, considering how glad he'd have been just a little while ago to have the door opened), but she beckoned him out with that pleasant tone of hers.  He had no way of knowing that his pulse was calming and his terror easing because she was playing at his auras, and part of that was because he never noticed when Ash did it, either.  It was subtle, and who was he to pick it apart, anyway?  If it helped, it was probably a good idea, at least for now.

He snuck forward, still low to the ground, but his movements were a little more cautious and not quite so desperate to avoid a repeat now that his heart had calmed some.  He still regarded Persephone like he wasn't sure what to make of her, but even as he approached Verity, he tipped his head up to sniff at the air.  It smelled like Persephone, though there was so much else going on that he could have been wrong, but he didn't think he was.  It smelled like her, so it had to be her, somehow.  That meant that if Persephone was alive and it had been alive, maybe the others were, too?  It just seemed so hard to believe that it was a lie when it was so vivid, but here she was and the leopard had no doubt that this was Verity, too.  He'd gotten what he asked for, just not as quickly as he'd been hoping, or without a cost.

Fortunately, he wasn't stupid enough to wish that he could tune Raphael out, considering the kind of trauma that Raphael had rained on Narkisa to make her capable of that.  Narkisa was insane and it was amazing that she could function on a regular basis, whereas Darren was a sane, normal (ish) person suddenly thrown into Raphael's rage.  There was no comparison, and who could blame him if he hid behind the leopard in some attempt to protect himself?  The cat sure as hell didn't want to die, so it wouldn't get him killed, and if it gave him a few precious moments to try to recompose himself, it was a good deal.

Except for the fact that he was sitting in Midnight, his bright eyes closing to soak up the way the Mistress of the place stroked at his face with her soft hands.  For all the stress that his parents and cousins had put on telling him that he had to be careful about people he didn't trust knowing that he was a black leopard, he sure hadn't been messing around when he fucked that up.  Christ.  The only person who really didn't need to know about his breed and coloring missing was Niall, and he'd know pretty quickly after all this. 

His eyes turned back up to her as she made her 'request', and he wasn't stupid.  Her body language was all casual, her hand falling to rest on Persephone's shoulder as she seemed to wait patiently, but her tone and stance didn't disguise well enough the fact that he really didn't have much choice other than to obey.  Hiding behind the cat obviously wasn't an option any longer, not when refusing could only make the situation worse, so he did as she'd 'requested' and shifted back to human.

That landed him on his knees in front of her, pale and dirty from the cell floor, hair damp and matted down from sweat, and reeking of fear, the drug that the Bacchae had used to knock him out and perhaps the smell of the cult themselves beneath all the rest, but he couldn't even smell that any longer himself.  All he knew was that he was pretty miserable, even with the fear forced down to a manageable level.  It still left him skittish about looking up at them (especially Verity, since just a glance at her had him flicking his eyes around in case Raphael jumped out of a shadow somewhere), but he'd never been afraid of Persephone and he wasn't now.  Now, he was more about focusing and determining for sure if what he was seeing now was the lie, or what he'd seen before.  She was alive, it had been a lie.  He released a long, harsh breath, one of his hands rubbing over his face like that was going to help.  It didn't.

"Thank you," he murmured.  At least he was smart enough not to open his mouth more than that.  It was probably a good idea.

[Verity Celestino]

 Verity observed that Darren was still very much aware of his surroundings, and laughed a little. "He's not going to come back," she assured him. "You needn't worry about him any further." Of course not, because now Verity was here, and all of the attention in the room had damned well better be focused on her. Nobody had ever seen her bad side, and they didn't want to. Ever. Part of that was due specifically to the fact that she was a female and could rage in that special sort of way only women could - something Niall knew and liked not warning people about because he enjoyed not being the object of her ire and if he could watch it happen to someone else, he got a certain delight out of it.

She looked at Persephone, a brow arched. "Is this your cat, the one you told me about?" she asked, her voice interested.

Persephone nodded, tossing back that length of hair she'd finally grown out. She cut it so often it was almost strange to have it long, but at Verity's request, she'd let it grow out again. She could feel the woman's fingers brushing the wavy ends of it gently, and she smiled a little. "You could say that," she said with a smile in his direction. "Although, he's more like my friend than my cat."

"I see," Verity replied, breaking away from Persephone to step further into the cell to get a look at the human version of the cat. She made a thoughtful "Hm" noise, and then cleared back her long, arrow-straight and perfect brown hair, glancing back to Persephone. "Do see that he is cleaned up, yes? It would reflect poorly of me if he wandered around in that half-cocked mangy state."

Annnnnd there it was. Persephone had been waiting for her to drop the hammer, and she'd done it. She smiled, though, and gave Persephone's jaw a caress as she literally fluttered out of the cell and back towards the doors, where Kronos waited. He held his arm out to escort Verity from the cell, having gone to find Niall as she had asked, and returned to escort her as she so rightly deserved.

"I expect you'll join us for supper, my darling?" she asked, turning her head back to Persephone. "Bring your friend." And she was gone.

[Darren Liten]

One thing that Darren deserved credit for was the fact that he knew better even without a warning that doing anything that displeased Verity was a bad, bad idea.  He could feel that aura of danger around her even when she was being friendly, and while he could definitely appreciate that she was being so nice to him when she could obviously be even worse than Raphael, he knew for sure that he didn't want to inspire any kind of change in her demeanor.

Apparently, he managed well enough, since he was able to look up at Verity without immediately glancing around for Raphael after she told him that the vampire wasn't going to come back and that he didn't have to worry about him.  Naturally, Darren was still worried about him because the guy was scary as hell and unhinged, but he didn't flick his eyes around in fear that the vampire was going to jump out of the woodwork screaming and throwing terror around, so that had to be an improvement, right?  Right.  Yeah, he was going with that.

Honestly, Darren's brain hadn't had the chance to consider any of this situation past the fact that he was utterly screwed just in that he was there, so when Verity asked if he was Persephone's 'cat', he naturally glanced her way, his thought processes sluggishly working to keep up and push aside the reoccurring images of death and gore that Raphael had thrown at him.  Her cat?  Hers?  His brows knit together just in time for her to say that he was more like her friend than her cat, which was good to know and made him feel just a little better, but the wording that Verity had used brought back what Raphael had said before everything else he'd done.  

"Still here? Not bought and paid for yet, it seems. I don't even recall seeing your name on a held list... I guess that means you're a free agent?"

The conversation went on without him (and why wouldn't it?) and Verity told Persephone to see to it that he was cleaned up because it would 'reflect poorly' on her if he wandered around like he was.  Verity went on like she hadn't said anything, but Darren's eyes shot to Persephone, trying to gauge just how bad this was and utterly failing because her face just didn't give anything away.  The Triste was escorted back out by a man who seemed both impressive and intimidating (Darren had no way of knowing who he was or that he'd been the only reason that Persephone had come rushing back to Midnight when she had, essentially saving his ass), but Verity was certain to let Seph know that she was expected to show up to supper and to bring Darren along.  Supper?  Really?

It was only after Verity and the man had disappeared that Darren's hands when up to his head, sweeping his hair completely out of his face for a moment (it wouldn't have a great effect on the overall appearance when he eventually let it go), and took in a long, deep breath.  It didn't help because all he could smell on the air was terror, blood and pain, but it was more about the internal rallying of himself than anything.  He was well and truly fucked, wasn't he?  Was he ever even going to make it out of here?  Verity seemed a hell of a lot better than Raphael, but he didn't want to belong to anyone.  Had he gotten saved from one mess only to land in another?  As much as he liked Persephone (even if her crazy act had bothered him when he found out it wasn't legit), he knew that she wasn't quite right and he sure as hell didn't want to know how that'd happened, especially not first-hand.  It was something he'd never have asked.

"So.  Made it to the airport, at least," he offered, and he might have even been a little surprised by his own ability to make it sound casual.  Inside, he was a little nauseous, and very strongly considering panic.  

[Persephone]

Persephone wrinkled her nose as she sniffed him - something that wasn't entirely uncommon for her to do. "Bacchae. Ugh, his cult is so weird," she said with disgust. They smelled like opium poppies and sandalwood. "That ancient asshole is a little too creepshow for my taste. I guess you didn't get a chance to tell them you had a freebie."

She thrust her hands into her pockets, nodding her head for him to follow her - after she waited the obligatory few moments for him to get his head straight after being exposed to Verity, anyways. Meeting her for the first time was always an interesting experience. "By the way, good first impression. I had my fingers crossed you weren't going to fly into a panic when Verity came down. If you think Fear Monger is bad, you don't ever want to see her pissed off. Even Niall doesn't want to see her pissed off," she added with a grim laugh.

Verity had her moments, and though they were few and far between, they still existed. Persephone always made it a point not to be around when they happened, because she didn't like getting caught up in whatever had piqued the Mistress' ire. Persephone sighed a little and brushed some of her hair behind her ear. This had ended up a lot better than she thought it would, at least. She was feeling a bit peckish, for one, and two, Verity was obviously interested in Darren. That was way more good than bad, even if Darren didn't feel it.

"Come on," she finally directed, walking toward the stairs. "You can get a shower and change and we can go to dinner, because yes, we do have to go now. It's definitely going to be the most interesting thing you've ever experienced," she remarked. She could say that with certainty, too, because she'd overheard Niall talking about Justinian. If they were coming, it was sure to be a night to remember.

[Darren Liten]

Darren usually tried to avoid being quite so blatant as Persephone was when he sniffed her over, but not today.  This time, he was just as natural about breathing her in as she was, and though he didn't find her scent quite as unpleasant as she found the smells clinging to him, she had blood and fear that he was certain wasn't hers lingering about her.  It wasn't encouraging, and it made it clear exactly what she'd been doing before she showed up, but he couldn't even find it in himself to think badly of her right then.  She'd come back, from the dead it had seemed initially, and she'd saved him from Raphael.  He could deal with the way she smelled.

He also didn't have it in him to even consider that he couldn't entirely shake the leopard.  The way they'd mutually invaded each other's space to trade sniffs had emphasized that, and it should have been something he noticed and shook off.  He didn't.  Perhaps some part of him didn't want to push the leopard entirely down, or perhaps the leopard wouldn't go (because the human was obviously doing SUCH a good idea of protecting them), but he didn't consciously try.  He followed Persephone up and out of the dungeon when she gestured for him to, and that was a relief, as was her mention of a 'good first impression', to be honest.  No, he didn't like how that situation had gone in the LEAST and he would definitely have his chance to feel like a moron later for how badly Raphael had wrecked him, but Persephone made it sound like he hadn't done half-bad.  God, he hoped that was true.

"Frankly, I don't want to see anyone here pissed off.  It sounds like a bad idea," he told her honestly, eyes just a little too wide as he took in the individuals trapped in cages that they passed.  He was lucky as all hell, he knew that, but he felt bad for them.  He even felt bad for the crazy bird-girl in the cage next to his, but most of all, he was afraid for his family.  He didn't know what the rules were on who was killed or captured, but he was scared senseless for his poor, beautiful mother who was just as rare of a 'specimen' as he was and his human father who would die trying to protect her.  He was afraid for his brave cousins and all the rest of them.  How many were already dead or captured?  He almost wanted to ask Persephone, but he didn't think he'd like her answer even if she'd tell him, which she probably wouldn't.

His family was dying, and he had to go shower and change to sit at dinner with a bunch of very scary people and Persephone.  What the fuck was even going on here?  "I don't know how many more interesting experiences I can take tonight," he muttered, but he would go do exactly what she said because he didn't really know what else to do.  He didn't know if his freedom was being granted after this crazy dinner party, if he was stuck here, or what the hell was happening; he didn't even know if he'd have a home and a life to return to if he was let go, so did it matter if he went to dinner with Persephone?

Nope.

[Persephone]

Persephone turned in the narrow hall, blocking Darren's path for a moment. She reached out and put a hand on his face, her gesture so gentle it was almost more frightening than if she were taking a swipe at him. "I know you're nervous," she told him, leaning in. "But trust me. If Verity remains interested and happy, it will only benefit you. I promise," she added. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, something slightly more innocent than what would be expected of her. It was a strange idea of Persephone being the type to try and give someone else a pep talk, but the night had not been precisely normal, had it?

She lead Darren to her quarters and ordered a slender teenage girl to fetch clothing in his size, which she detailed from the pile he'd left on the floor. She set it on the counter of the spacious bathroom, and then retired to her vanity where she studied herself. She finally opted for an elegant black cocktail dress that hung above the knee slightly, with thin straps and a low neckline that showed off her angles (since she didn't have curves). She left her hair alone, the length of it now brushing her shoulders and slightly waved from being wound in a bun previously. She was touching up her eyeliner, the black smudged paint making her bright eyes seem positively neon in the low lighting all of Midnight had to offer, when Darren finally emerged from the bathroom.

"How do you feel?" she asked him, doing up the tie he had somehow knotted as he stared at the reflection of them both in the still-lightly fogged mirror. "Can you do this or do I need to stick a wind-up key in your back?"