CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪
(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)
(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!x reader)
𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ minors skiddaddle pls
Chapter 009: Nina
There’s a new girl at Hellfire and Eddie is seemingly wrapped around her finger. Meanwhile, Max makes a shocking new discovery…
* = somewhat smut
** = smut
↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*
word count: 3.8k words
disclaimers & warnings — ⚠️ this is a verrrryy emotionally intense chapter. pls read at your discretion ; generational curses, physical altercations, profanities, throwing objects, heated arguments, implications of suspected grooming, shy girl being delulu, lmk if anything else
“Shouldn't have to listen to the shit you say.”
♡
"C’mon... COME ON!" Dustin roars in frustration. "What starts with a T and ends with a C?"
Slow Monday afternoons call for Wordle with the Party.
With little else to do in Hawkins on your day off, you find yourself situated at DRAGON’S BREATH with Steve, Dustin, and Jonathan’s younger brother Will.
Figuring out the last Wordle is a daunting task. Thankfully Argyle has been periodically swinging by, his emotional support nachos being the only thing keeping you from ripping out your hair.
"Tunic," Will suggests.
"Tonic," Steve contributes. "Like tonic water."
"Topic?" you pitch in. “Like Hot Topic.”
This is taking all of your last brain cells combined.
"Topic was one of them, Shy Girl,” Dustin sighs irritably. “I said that already.”
You raise your arms, surrendering. It seems you’ve poked the beast.
It’s been hard for you to focus anyway. The hot and heavy night you spent with Eddie a couple nights ago is taking up all the space of your dirty little mind.
You think of Eddie. His moans. The O-shape his mouth made as he chased his own pleasure on you. How full your pussy felt with just his three fingers pulsing in and out, and how full your mouth felt with Eddie's cock ramming the back of your throat with no mercy. The taste of him. How shocked he looked when you swallowed. How rough he was with you, but oh so thoughtful at the same time.
Truly an experience from another dimension. And you’re already fantasizing about the next time.
But you still want to keep it on the down low. Considering Eddie might still be seeing his Lady Friend, and you're still getting shagged by his roommate whenever he’s not home, you can't exactly get mad at him for texting someone who isn't you.
“Pssst,” you nudge Steve while the others brainstorm. “I think Eddie is talking to Nina again.”
Confusion sets in on Steve's face. He raises his eyebrows. “What?”
“Yeah,” you smirk, trying to pretend that it doesn’t hurt. “Saw a message exchange between them a couple days ago.”
“Who’s Nina?”
“Isn’t that the Lady Friend’s name?”
“No…” Steve shakes his head. “Lady Friend’s name was Heather.”
It really has you wondering now... who is Nina?
"Yeah, the kukris are cool huh?" you hear Eddie's soothing voice come into earshot.
Odd. He stopped coming in on Mondays, you thought.
"That's the cool thing about owning a business,” you hear Eddie explain. “You get to choose where the money goes, when it goes, how it goes — at least most of the time."
Where have you heard that before?
Then Eddie comes into view, with a girl walking very closely behind him.
She’s stunning, standing to be about five-foot-two with a youthful face, petite body, and straight, long jet-black hair. Both conventionally, and legitimately beautiful, the girl looks to be at least 20 years old, dressed in cream-colored Chuck Taylor's, tattered booty shorts, and a playful white off-the-shoulder blouse. Scattered fine-line tattoos ornament her body. Her makeup has been flawlessly painted on, her lash extensions a hybrid between voluminous and wispy. And because you’re from Southern California, you can spot lip injections from a mile away.
A new dancer.
"This is where you clock in," Eddie explains to her. "I'll be sure to get you your punch in code by the end of the week. Over at the lounge we have Will, Shy Girl, Steve, and Dustin. Hey guys!”
Now you know why it sounds familiar. You received a very identical run down when you first started.
You're too shocked to wave so you feign a smile at your new colleague. Also, Eddie is too quick for you to react.
"We call the hookah lounge Dragon's Breath," Eddie continues. "And main-stage-slash-tip-rail is called Vecna's Lair."
They walk over to VECNA'S LAIR and you crane your neck to watch.
You observe Eddie give the girl a very familiar run down of Hellfire, using his arms to talk and eyes to listen.
She laughs at Eddie's charm, as anyone would. They talk for a bit more before he walks, what looks like to you, a predatory circle around her — a lion and a gazelle — and then spins her. Then Eddie does something that just about snaps your heart in half.
“MWAH!” he exclaims. “You are gonna do great. I just know it.”
The verbal kiss. The spin. The drowning her in compliments. Everything he did with you.
If Eddie’s gonna do his job, could he at least make every interaction with his employees unique? It all makes you feel betrayed. As if you were just another number in the factory.
"Traitor." you hiss sharply under your breath.
You abruptly stand up to start towards Eddie, hands balled into fists at the blatant disrespect displayed in front of you. You feel sick to your stomach, skin seemingly dragon-green with envy.
"That’s seven letters not five!" Dustin calls after you.
Eddie sees you in his periphery and waves. For the sake of keeping the peace, the smile you exude is fake to him, but friendly to the girl next to him.
"Hey, Hargrove!" Eddie smiles. "We've got a new person on board."
"I see that!" you exclaim. "Hi, I'm Shy Girl."
"I'm Nina," she introduces herself with a bright smile. "It's nice to meet you."
You two shake hands. Nina is just darling. Her eyes are so kind and bright, full of wonder. Her energy is warm. For a second there she was making you nervous.
“Y-you gonna be starting with us soon?” you investigate.
“Yeah, I start on Friday!”
“First dancing gig?”
Eddie shoots you a look, almost as if what you said was disrespectful. It wasn’t your intention. You were just wondering, after all. Nina looks really, really young.
“Uh, no actually,” Nina smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve been dancing since I was 18. So two-ish years now.”
Your soul hurts.
Eighteen is just a baby. Twenty is a fresh adult. Nina is only a year older than the kiddos and can't even be near POTIONS without redirection from Henry.
Now you’re disgusted with Eddie. Why would he ever get so close to someone so young? You thought teenagers at Hellfire made him queasy. Nina is 20 now, but still. What would she have in common with a 28 year old? What about her was so appealing to Eddie?
“Oh! That’s cool… I think?”
Eddie’s harsh lines deepen across his face.
“Nina, why won’t you put your bag down by the cubbies, sweetheart?” Eddie suggests. “Then I’ll have Argyle make you something to eat. My treat.”
“Okay!” Nina chimes. "I was eyeing the chicken wings."
"Done deal. Wings or flats?"
"Flats!" Nina says as she skips away. "Please."
Eddie's admiring eyes trail after her as Nina acqauints herself with Hellfire.
So many questions arise in your head. Is Nina who Eddie’s been texting all this time? Did she come in and audition like you did? Did he ask her out on an 'orientation' lunch/dinner that he apparently does with all of his dancers? It wouldn't surprise you. None of this behavior is new.
This jealousy feels icky. And most of all, it hurts.
"Ugh!" Eddie clutches his chest. He turns to you. "I love her already."
You remain stiff as a board as Eddie slowly leans into you. A part of you is aching to lean in as well, but you can’t give him the satisfaction.
Eddie hovers his hand over the small of your back because he knows Steve is watching. His eyes are out on a prowl per usual the way they burn into you.
"Looking beautiful as always," Eddie compliments you. "How are you? I haven't stopped thinking about you since Saturday."
He looks over your shoulder at the Wordle group.
"What was the last word?"
“Don’t know,” you huff. “You seem to have gotten it.”
“What?” Eddie questions cluelessly.
“With Nina,” you cross your arms. "And all your words that you've been wooing her with."
“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Eddie scowls. His hand drops back to his side. “You're mad because I... hired a stripper? Cause that’s kinda what I do.”
“I'm not mad that you hired a stripper, you literally own a strip club,” you shrug. “It’s just that…I didn’t know you use the same script with every new hire.”
"I'm sorry? Script?”
"You used almost the exact same words with me, Eddie," you explain. "Like you do with everybody I'm guessing.”
Disbelief sets in on Eddie's face, accompanied by an ounce of fear. Eddie is scared of something.
"Well, I don't know what you expected me to do when you first started," Eddie shrugs. "I'm not gonna come off strong and hit on you like some creep. Of course I'm gonna give you the same treatment I give everybody."
Eddie's got a solid rationale, but it didn't take away from the fact that you simply felt ordinary. When you compare the interactions side by side, nothing about Shy Girl stuck out from Nina.
"Why are we even having this conversation right now?" Eddie asks you. "We're not even together."
“I’m not trying to pick a fight, believe me,” you cross your arms. “I’m just disappointed is all. You made me really think you were falling for me.”
“Oh so all it takes is me walking with a girl to have all of my words not ring true anymore?”
Your tongue and stomach are in knots. All you can do is stand there and blubber like a baby. You’re making no sense, you’re aware. But why does it hurt you so bad?
Eddie paces back and forth. "I don't even know why I feel the need to explain myself, Hargrove,” he continues. “I’m not the one fucking the other’s best friend."
It's a reasonable standpoint. Still. You felt disgusting.
“Yeah but..." you argue softly. "How can you feel so comfortable touching…kissing…interacting with someone like that after being so intimate with me?”
Your boss can only release a chuckle, a baffled one at that. He shakes his head rapidly.
“Just because we hooked up over the weekend, you think you have a say in who I associate with or what goes on around here?" Eddie spews. “What, are you trying to take over Hellfire or something?”
Your lip quivers. “I never said that! Where did that even come from? Why are you so fucking defensive right now?”
Eddie’s nose flares angrily as he tries to keep himself collected. Suddenly, Nina calls out for his attention and he softens up again.
“Eddie!” the new girl cheers. “Argyle gave me some of his flats and it's so good! I think I’m gonna shoot for Creeping Death next!”
“Hey, nice!” Eddie smiles. “You like spicy, huh?”
“Mhm!”
It would be a lot easier to hate her if she did something to you. But Nina didn't do anything.
Eddie turns back around to face you, kicking at the ground before he thinks of something to say.
“Let’s not do this right now,” Eddie resigns, placing his hands over his hips. “You uh…clocking in?”
“No, I’m going home actually,” you respond. “It’s my day off.”
Eddie makes a face. You project it back onto him. For a moment, you two are staring at each other, appalled at one another's behavior. Being infatuated with the literal mirror version of yourself is hell.
“Hey Eddie!” Will calls. “Do you know a five-lettered word that starts with T and ends with C?”
Eddie’s eyes don’t leave you.
“Sure do,” he answers. “TOXIC.”
There’s a pause.
“BADA-BOOM!” Dustin hollers. “That’s the one.”
Eddie doesn't bother to chase you after your mini altercation. Just then, another pair of heels that don't belong to you click across the hard club floor. Chrissy comes into sight, holding a tray of slushees and her car keys in her hands.
“Hey guys!” Chrissy sings. “I got us some slushees from 7-Eleven. They're Cherry flavored...”
“I’ll pass,” you huff. “You can give one to Nina.”
“Ooh we have someone new?!” she chirps. “Where?”
Chrissy notices your shift in attitude when you walk away and Eddie’s stand-offish posture.
“What the fuck did you say to her?” you hear her snap at Eddie as you walk away.
“Nothing,”
“Bullshit. You look guilty as fuck.”
You stomp your way back over to your section and ask Steve to hand you your purse. It's obvious by the look on his face that Steve caught onto what you were feeling. He doesn't question it. He hands you your things.
"I'm not feeling too well, guys," you announce. "I'm going home."
You collect your trash and organize it neatly for Argyle when he comes back over with some waffle fries. Showing your appreciation for him, you thank him and give him a soft pat on the shoulder.
"Argyle, you should've seen the new girl," Dustin fawns. "She's so pretty."
"Yeah?" Argyle quirks up. "What's her name?"
"Nina."
"Was she hot?" he turns to the guys. "Byers, what do you think? Was she a 10 or what?"
Will, who never seems to pay the Hellfire girls any mind, eyes glued to his sketchbook instead of their sultry outfits, squirms around in his seat. He shrugs. "I-I don't know."
"Steve?"
"She was pretty cute."
Your blood boils. Not her stealing Steve's heart too!
"Nina…” Argyle repeats. "How exotic. She sounds like a small feisty Latina woman."
“Bet Shy Girl can vouch,” Dustin comments. “Right, Shy Girl?”
Intrigued, the line cook turns to you.
"Well, Shy Girl? Is she giving chunti, chingona, or what?”
Steve encourages Argyle to stop as you walk away, hair covering the sides of your face on the way out.
“What?” Argyle sounds bewildered. “What’d I say?”
"Was I made from a broken home?"
A girls day with Max would surely take your mind off of the Nina situation. She always knew how to make you feel better. Lucky for you, she is home today, evident by her skateboard that is situated neatly in the garage.
You hear some commotion coming from your shared bedroom and go in to greet her.
"Hey girl hey!" you call out to your sister. "It's my day off so I was wondering if you wanted to go t-"
You pause in your tracks, horrified.
"Hmm," Max ponders aloud. "Last time I recall, stilettos and G-strings aren't really part of nursing home etiquette."
Propped open on Max’s bed is one of your unpacked suitcases, the one that you hid all your lingerie, heels, and the Hellfire shirt Eddie gave you when you first started in. Typically you lock it but you left it open this morning. Out of all days Max had to look through your room, it had to be today.
Max has a tennis racket in her hand, the handle acting as a hook the way it swept up a thong of yours so effortlessly. You feel your knees buckle.
"What are you doing looking through my stuff, you little shit?" you bark.
"Looking for my sports bras," Max replies nonchalantly. "Still can't find 'em."
She dangles the thong in the air like it's something she caught at the lake.
"Found some other goodies though."
"You couldn't have just waited to ask me?"
"I would've had to wait a day or two since you work nights," Max snaps. "Now I know why. And do I even need to ask where?"
Just what you needed. This is JUST what you needed.
You feel exposed. Violated. Disrespected. In every aspect and every situation. There was no safe place to turn. It makes you angry.
Fine. If people are going to disrespect you, you'll be disrespectful too.
"When is it EVER okay to snoop?" you hiss. "Have you any respect for others and their belongings? How would you feel if I started picking apart at your shit?"
"I wouldn’t care because I don't have anything to hide."
"That's not the fucking point, Maxine."
"Oh, not the government name!" Max exclaims, sassily putting a hand over her chest.
That really tips you over the edge.
"I should've known," Max proceeds, shaking her head. She chucks the racket back onto her bed. “You haven't renewed your CPR cert since you graduated high school. And you need that to even work as a caregiver. Didn't catch that loophole when you were LYING, did you?"
"I was lying to protect you."
"You still lied, Sis," Maxine argues. "You're missing the point..."
Oh, now she wants to mimmick you.
You're blind-sided. Tunnel-visioned. You are feeling all five stages of grief all at once. It’s all too much to bear. You feel the bomb ticking...
As much as you love your sister, it sure was a bitch to raise her. You spent most of the time explaining to Max what social cues are, what is acceptable and what is not. It often made you short-fused because what was common sense to you took ages for Max to understand. Like how you shouldn't look through other people's things.
Max learns best when she puts herself in others' shoes. You've learned that the hard way, over the years.
“How would you feel if I was looking through your drawers and shit?” you walk over to Max’s corner of the room, prying open her drawers and tossing whatever is in there out. “And just tossing your shit out onto the floor?"
“What the fuck?!” Max exclaims. "What are you doing?!"
“Or what if I just went to your side of the mirror and…” you knock her perfume bottles off from the dresser mirror in numbers and watch them fall onto the floor. "Knocked all your shit down because I was looking for my own things?"
"I get it now, stop."
“Or," you brainstorm. "What if I just started unpacking your vinyls and shit and just not care about the packaging?”
Max stops you right there. "ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?! I said STOP."
“How would YOU FEEL?” you yell. “HOW WOULD YOU FEEL IF I DID THAT TO YOU?! IF I PULLED A 'YOU' ON YOU? NOT GREAT, HUH?”
How would everybody feel if you acted the way they did? Would they be mortified? Would they be disgusted?
Would Dad not hit anybody?
Would Mom have chosen to stay?
Would your first love never want to see you again?
Would Eddie be angry at your behavior?
Would Max think you're the worst sibling ever?
You would hope so for all the above.
Your heart couldn’t take any more pain.
"SHUT," Max screeches. "THE FUCK UP!"
She tosses an acrylic storage box at you. It hits you and you yelp in pain. When she realizes what she has done, Max punches the pillow on her bed. Physically aching for the last word, you take it upon yourself to chuck your empty Hydroflask at her. Thankfully, it misses and the ear-piercing CLINK sound is enough to startle her. Max shrinks herself down in fear, trying to process what you just did.
You regret it immediately. You didn't want to hit her. You mainly did it for intimidation.
It puts you to shame. You are toxic.
Suddenly, Max inflates again, her entire face extending to her ears redder than her fiery amber hair.
"YOU," Maxine growls. "ARE JUST LIKE BILLY!"
Silence.
You take a look around the trashed room. Never did you think you had it in you to be someone like your brother. But of course, the Wolf who is fed the most prevails.
The amount of hurt and anger you actually harbored was way more than you thought. You can’t take back the fact that you’ve exploded on everyone you love now. But at least you can hold yourself accountable.
"I didn't mean that," Max mumbles. “I’m really sorry.”
"No, Max," you sigh. "You're right. And I'm sure you've been wanting to say that for a while..."
But Max refuses. “NO! I just wanted the last word again. Like I always fucking do even when I know it’s never worth it.”
You and your sister join each other by sitting criss-crossed on the floor, pushing the debris off to the side to be handled later. Max leans her head on you and you let her, combing through her knotted hair with your trembling fingers.
"We have a lot to unlearn, don't we?" she sighs.
You nod. "Oh yeah..."
She grabs your hand.
"Are you safe at least?" Max questions. "At work? Any creeps I gotta beat up for you?"
A laugh escapes you. "Nah, someone's already got that covered. Bones snapping and all."
Max flinches.
"That's how you got all that money real fast, huh? Stripping?”
You nod to confirm. "I did it for you. Well, us."
You watch as Max takes out her phone and shuffles through her camera roll. Her most recent in the gallery are videos of her shooting free throws at the Y and playing tennis. She cancels out some apps for more storage, one of them being Messenger. The tab reveals that Billy was spamming her again.
You both shudder. Max puts her phone away.
"Because of you I have a membership," she beams. "And I have a safe place to rest my head and I have money to do what I want and I have food on the table."
She hugs you.
“I hope you know how grateful I am for you. For putting my needs before yours. For throwing yourself into something so terrifying just so I can have a better life than you did growing up.”
“I never thought for a second you were being ungrateful,” you hug her back. “And no matter what I say or do, I’m sticking by you no matter what.”
“Even when I’m being an asshole?”
“Even when you’re being an asshole.”
Max giggles. “Thanks for the reassurance.”
Suddenly your door swings open, causing you and Max to jolt in place. Thankfully, it’s just Robin and Vicky, both worried and confused about the state of your room.
"ToTo," Robin says. "We're not in Hawkins anymore."
"What tornado rummaged through here?!" Vicky exclaimed. "Guys. Are you okay?"
You and Max burst into laughter.
"Yeah, we’re good," you nod. "Just Hurricane Hargrove passing through."
As long as you have Max and your sisterhood with Robin and Vicky, you know you're going to be okay.
You refuse to mope around for the rest of the day, so in the evening you go bowling with Max and your roommates, loading yourselves up with carbs and soda. You ignore Eddie’s “can we talk?” messages, along with Billy’s routine “where the fuck are you” texts followed by rage-calls without a care in the world . Towards the end of the night, however, when the “Sad Boy Hours” hit, there’s a text from a man you simply can’t ignore.
Maybe: Henry
Hey 🧍🏻 it's Henry from work. Can I ask you something? Pls be honest.
tag list: @battymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerrr , @jxpsi i , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @justinelittlewoodsworld , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123
224 notes
·
View notes
➥ Chip on Her Shoulder
⸻Technical Information. // Face, Voice, etc.
01. Faceclaim. Touka Kirishima [ Tokyo Ghoul ]
02. Voice Claim. TBA
⸻Profile Information. // Name, Age, etc.
01. Name. Viresca Lizabeth Mandragora
02. Alias. Viri, Mandragora
03. Sex. Female
04. Gender. Female
05. Age. 21 [ Dependent ]
06. Birth Date. November 17th [ Scorpio ]
07. Blood Type. Sub-type WB-
08. Race. Witch, American ; Irish-Engllish by ethnicity.
09. Marital Status. Single [ Multiship ]
010. Orientation. Heterosexual [ Demiromantic ]
011. Residence. Belle's Hollow, Belle Valley, United States ; Formerly, the Mandragora Estate, Scarcroft, England ; Before that, London, with her parents.
⸻Physical Information. // Body, Equipment, Family, etc.
012. Physical Description. Viresca is 5'4" and her hair is ash brown with some tealy green highlights cut in a chin-length bob with some covering her eye to conceal a scar. Her eyes are gray-green, open, wide, and somewhat gentle despite their relative coldness. There is a scar caused by a blast of cursed magic spidering over the right half of her face, from the crux of her jaw and up to her forehead, twisted and gnarled in shape as if the mark of a painful, failed or insincere curse - magic gone awry due to incompetence. Beyond that, her fingers show a myriad of little scars all over, presumably caused by diligent work in a garden. Beyond this, she is covered head to toe in lightly-pigmented freckling and has a small, light, smudge-like birthmark behind her right ear. She'll casually wear slightly tighter clothes and knee-high leather boots perfect for traveling or adventuring - and she always looks nice. Clean, proper, and not an inch of her skin from the neck down visible in any way. She's altogether rather modest and not necessarily for propriety or dignity's sake. Rather, she gets cold easily (it comes with being a string bean), thus she prefers to wear thicker, heavier cloaks and long-sleeved tops nearly year-round. She tends to wear strictly green, black, teal, and silver/dark gray clothing with extravagant patterns and fabric types, though leather, wool, and satin seem to be staples. It's exceedingly rare for her to wear anything frilly, as she much prefers to appear sharp and sleek - she wants to look like she can walk the walk as much as she can talk the talk. She always wears a set of black gloves as well.
013. Equipment. She keeps an infinite sack full of: Alchemical ingredients, husbandry tools, a pair of singing stones with which she calls her basilisk Gehenna & owl Morrigan, her black marble catalytic wand, an obsidian palmseal, keys to the Mandragora mansion, a palm-sized, tarnished silver traveling mirror, proprietary draught blends, recipes, her blackbound grimoire, and honestly a lot of other things.
014. Occupation. Owner and Proprietor of the Flytrap, an alchemical supply store in Belle's Hollow ; She inherited the shop from her parents, but didn't start running it until after she'd graduated from Belegerande's
015. Job Performance. Well-liked ; Since she keeps the family shop so well-stocked, in terms of quantity, variety, and quality, she's developed a positive reputation and solid place among Valley denizens.
016. Parents. Lutesce Blackwood & Agrivayne Mandragora, both tragically killed in an attempt to protect her from a band of murderous poachers.
017. Siblings. None
⸻Personality Information. // Likes, Strengths, etc.
018. Likes. Fine art, piano music, learning, herbalism, reading (multi-genre, non-specific, just…reading), wandering Belle's Hollow, dragons, watching the town ghosts try to kill each other again, flying, sneaking into places she shouldn't be, Halloween, full moon nights, bloodwine, chatting with Gehenna, exploring, collecting rare materials (ethically), etc.
019. Dislikes. Poachers, spiders, vegetables, most chocolates, moral grandstanding, tomatoes, people who are unkind to knockers and service workers besides, again poachers, undead (including vampires), people who are obsessed with blood status, snow, winter time, tight spaces, pungent smells, sharing, spicy food, sleeping, etc.
020. Alignment. Chaotic Good
021. Positive Traits. Resilient. Resourceful. Persevering. Diligent. Sure-footed. Loyal. Friendly. Generally open-minded. Supportive. Thoughtful. Modest. Respectful.
021. Negative Traits. Detached. Manipulative. Mistrustful. Reckless. Something of an enabler. A little dense. Pessimistic. Lies of omission. Secretive. Some questionable ethics.
022. Goals & Desires. Her goal is to attain as much knowledge and power as possible, put it to practice, and lay waste to the poaching industry as a whole - make it unprofitable and a hundred times as risky. Eventually, she would also like to change public opinion and philosophy regarding magic as a whole in the interest of furthering advancement for nightfolk. She believes nightfolk have stagnated significantly and needs a right kick in the ass to start moving again; If that means challenging popular opinion on divisive matters as magic itself and its practice, then so be it. She also wants to see nightfolk and humans coexist properly, for the secrecy laws to be repealed, as she believes both humans and nightfolk have much to learn from each other by way of practicality and science. She also sees the DRS as a flawed and complacent system in dire need of replacing precisely because of the secrecy laws and strict regulation of magic.
She aspires to become a great woman like her mother, and her goals absolutely include becoming a Sorcier among them. She is also set on mastering the art of transformation, no matter how tedious she's learned the process actually is. Becoming a skilled tamer and herbalist are also on the list (family tradition). Eventually, she would also quite like to start a family, but isn't entirely certain if that is the right choice given that it may conflict with the bulk of her goals.
023. Personality. She has the capability of being quite the spitfire, but a cold fire is more accurate. She is outwardly friendly but incredibly impersonal, tending to keep anyone from getting to know her. This is a defense mechanism she's been making use of so long, she hardly notices it anymore. It's incredibly difficult for her to properly connect to other people, often treating her interactions with other people as transactional; On the flip side, this means she sees them as purposeful and, therefore, not merely a waste of time.
Again, she is quite friendly and always willing to help, but she does not help out for free - she does expect the other end of the bargain to be upheld, which may or may not incidentally deepen a relationship depending on the circumstances. She's quite frank about it, too, but not in an insulting manner - just straightforward, unless she believes her favors will be returned naturally. She's also distrustful of others, beyond her natural defensiveness, and rarely trusts what they might say - a feature of anxiety. Kind words often fall on deaf ears, but so do cruel ones - actions, however, are quite different.
Now, with all the negatives laid out, Viresca is strong-willed, stubborn, and persistent; There is nothing she can't do without a bit of time to figure it out, though she's actually fairly quick-minded. Solving puzzles and riddles, getting creative with her magic and mixing in a bit of practical technique, as well as her combat prowess make her a formidable ally. Should she ever be beaten in a duel, she is graceful in her defeat - that is, she's not a sore loser - and should she win, she accepts victory with the same amount of grace, modest and fair.
She has a passion for learning and trying new things, her nose often buried in an old book (probably stolen from the Restricted Section) or practicing new and old spells. Likewise, the same goes for any number of things. She's quite the quick learner and she often finds enjoyment in all magical things. She is fascinated by the taboo and completely unafraid of bending and breaking the rules to satisfy her curiosity, so forbidden magic is a common thing for her to research.
She doesn't outright hate anything or anyone - indifference is the correct word for her here. She is unflinchingly tough and once she has her heart or mind set on something, she'll never back down. She meets every challenge with the seriousness it deserves. For as tough and cold as she may be, she is surprisingly gentle and even... paradoxically, warm. There is much she doesn't understand, yet she understands more than you might think at first glance. She's patient, deliberate, careful, and tender when it matters the most. Besides, she has a few tells and, if you know where to find them, they can be easily exploited. She doesn't lie, but avoids the truth.
Her impersonality does not reflect on her intelligence. She can quite read a room or pick apart another person's expressions or emotions, but she is not at all liberal with her own. She's prone to nightmares. Occasional night terrors, complete with screaming, but certainly more often sitting bolt upright in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and intense fear of going back to sleep. She feels perpetually unsafe and being haunted by the memory of your parents' murder will do that to you, but this explains a lot. She can sometimes be playful, prideful, sarcastic, and even happy, but she's bottling so much of the pain, grief, fear, and anger inside her. She is tired and has already established herself as a Strong and Capable™️ witch, it would be wrong to shatter that expectation, so she must remain strong, no matter how weak she is in actuality. A vicious cycle, for her. She would loathe for anyone to see her as the broken-hearted, terrified girl she really is.
⸻Sorcery Information. // Element, Talent, etc.
026. Element. Earth, some expertise in Necrotic - moderate control, but especially talented with an array of earth-based magic.
027. Shapeshifting. Scraggly, wiry, gray fox transformation - she has no shifter blood in her, though she has been able to shift into at least an animal ; This was never her wheelhouse, but she was determined to remedy that...
028. Utility. Summoning, curses, dispel, alchemy, binding, telekinesis, clairvoyance, conjuration, husbandry, herbalism, illusions, barriers, growth, and minor healing.
029. Specialization. Fey, Thorn, Floral, Alchemy & Herbalism - each form of specialized earth magic happens to assist in nearly every aspect of running the Flytrap ; Fey magic is extraordinarily difficult to master, especially if the user is not Fey themselves, wild and volatile ; She is particularly adept in alchemy and herbalism in accordance with family tradition.
030. Graduate School. Belegerande’s School for the Arcane, House La Fey - the first of 11 total sorcery-centered schools established in North america in the 1500s; Quite a prestigious institution despite its current reputation.
031. Classification. Herbaflorist - An occupational classification belying talent and specialization in the tending of alchemical ingredients where it pertains to plants ; Herbal & alchemical supply shops require Herbafloral certifications in order to run.
⸻Background Information. // Past to Present. Warning for death, familial abuse, murder, grief, cops, etc.
Her parents, Lutesce Blackwood & Agrivayne Mandragora, were sorciers and this remained true even after she was born. Together, they lived somewhere in London, distant from the city center, comfortable if somewhat lonely. Throughout her childhood, due to how busy they were in their work, the rate in which she saw her parents dwindled to a measly percentage - but when she could be with them, their time together was of utmost quality. She was their focus, the very reason they were sorciers - to make the world a better and safer place for her to live in, where all nightfolk could live without worry. She respected them for it, believed them to be the very best sorcerer and witch in existence, above the Kingmaker and Morgan Le Fay and all others. When they were gone, her grandmother would care for her, but she was neither warm nor particularly caring. Old, wizened by her own experiences, her grandmother was quite strict and oftentimes unfair, and there were times she'd use magic to punish Viresca - nothing so severe she couldn't quickly heal from. Her relationship with her grandmother was contentious and uncomfortable at the best of times, but she persevered, patiently waiting for her parents to return.
Unfortunately, the year she was supposed to finally attend Belegerande's - having finally recieved her summons - she didn't, and her parents... Their final case focused on the investigation of a particularly nasty band of blackwyrm poachers and drug traffickers intent on shoving as many beasts into cages as was magically possible, funneling drugs into the Valley, and killing, torturing, or maiming any who got in their way. Lutesce and Agrivayne had been closing in on them, their investigation coming to a close, but they'd dug too deep and poked the wrong bear. When it was afforded to them, they returned home for a weekend in the summer, and they spent time together as a complete family - no work, no cruel grandmother, no sadness.
But, in the end, the poachers had found them and took advantage of their vulnerable family life. Her parents ushered her into the cellar and locked the door, calmly commanding her to keep quiet and never to come out no matter what happened. She did, and she listened with horror as her parents fought the poachers, crawling into the darkest corner of the cellar and staring at the door with terror. The fight went on for longer than it should have, and she realized what the end result would be - there were too many voices and not enough of them belonged to her mother and father. As it went on, they came closer to the cellar door and before much longer, she watched as the wood splintered and her father fell to the floor in a broken heap, the faint glow of volatile red magic robbing him of his life. She heard her mother scream, but she was speechless, and so, too, had her body been thrown into the cellar.
The poachers laughed and laughed, mad hyenas the lot of them, taking cruel pleasure in the calculated murder of her parents. She held herself, swallowing the knots in her throat and hot tears in her eyes; She muted every desperate scream, every horrified wail, but she just couldn't help herself. Foolishly, she crawled to them, into the pale moonlight as it struck the stone and her mother's lifeless eyes, and the poachers laughed. They laughed and they laughed and they laughed - and one, the leader of the group, struck her with accursed necrotic magic. All she knew was soul-rending agony, pain becoming familiar and intimate as her body shook and convulsed on the floor, such permanently scarring her face.
In the aftermath, she wasn't quite the same girl. Not nearly as hopeful, nor optimistic, nor trusting of others. Her grandmother's lack of kindness became a comfort - she knew it, familiar and true, the one thing that hadn't changed since her parents died. Her grandmother never blamed her, however, for what happened to her parents nor to her face. Still, she was unpleasant and cold, and still plenty spry enough to hex her when she felt like it. She taught Viresca all she would need to know in terms of magic, however, never once belittling her for her late-blooming. "You're just like your father. He was a late-bloomer, too," she said, and would remain the only kind thing her grandmother would ever say to her. For three years, she studied and practiced and kept trying until her magic manifested, and in that time, she grew closer to her grandmother. It was strange, but...Viresca left home knowing that she always had a place to even call home, dysfunctional and unwelcoming as it was.
Her grandmother helped her through the process of preparing for her schooling, all the while telling her little stories about her mother and father - when they were attending school, how she hated Lutesce. Viresca thought it amusing, but would take those little stories to her grave if she could. She vowed to use her time at Belegerande's constructively, to learn as much as she possibly could so she might one day put an end to the plague of poachers and foulest nightfolk mages - to make a difference, whatever that difference may be.
She might try to live for them, too.
7 notes
·
View notes