all that is gold does not glitter
not all who wander are lost
Brennan could hardly help the way that jealously so viciously struck him, the whole time that he was aware of Serafina making advances upon the Italian king. How had he been so oblivious, she was sitting right next to him for fucks sake. All for the hopes of simply impressing her, playing dress up, all for her to hardly notice him at all. What a disaster. He knew it was wrong to attempt to get closer to her when she was taken and yet he could hardly help himself. Just like him to get karma for his sins, to have that plan backfire in his face with spectacular vengeance! A sign by the fates themselves that he was always meant to come up short to the Dark hunter. Perhaps it was the devil's cruel joke that Brennan seemed to be the butt of every time. He had no right to allow the jealousy to flourish and yet it did, causing him to interrupt that very interaction. He could care less that he had brought forth that sulking look upon her features, crossing her arms like he had stolen her favourite candy.
Stupid book she says! That book was supposed to be his last saving grace. Just what he decided to live for was certainly obscure, it seemed to be something in which he was truly lacking. "That book is meant to save me. If you weren't so focused on feeling up the king, maybe you see that this is important." He huffed childishly, the Irish accented words spilling from him unbidden, soon followed up by that horrified look of surprise at his own blunder. How he wished he could eat those very words as soon as he had said them, but it would seem his own jealousy made him petty. How Serafina was perhaps the only woman would could make his own confidence and resolve crumble.
It was the cause of that frown that stolen his once amused mask, grateful for that conversation to shift to demons. For once. That perhaps was telling of his general state of mind. In a bid to free that suffocating tie, his hand once more reached to it, toying with it as he explained how he had been killing those demons. Who knew what actually happened to them, if not they ended up where they all did when one simply ceases to exist. Yet again, the warlock seemed to share just a little too much, calling the culling of such demons similar to that of a vampire. Hello Brennan's foot... meet mouth. Although, he never uttered that final word, Serafina was content to fill in the blank... to perhaps get a little revenge for exposing her little flirtatious charade. He was really screwing this one up, the warlock all but cringing. So much for being something he wasn't. He could dress up in all the fanciful garb and it would matter one bit.
The warlock seemed to shift uneasy in his chair, shooting a pointed look at the dark-haired woman sitting beside him. A worn sigh reaching his lips, it was clear, that sign of discomfort it brought to Dorian. Brennan immediately wished he extended more couth and yet how unpracticed he was in that very art. "Aye.." He spoke softly, defeated. What was the point in salvaging that burning look of hatred that practically emanated from the vampire prince. There was something so terribly unsettling about him.... And oddly enough...uncomfortably sexy. Brennan was so confident in his own sexuality, but even he could not deny that man had allure.
The mention of that weapon, now that had all but distractedly swiped away the topic. It was the prince who seemed to have voiced his very doubt. Brennan briefly cast him a surprised glance. Where was all this animosity coming from?
Regardless, of that hesitation, Dorian still seemed intent to offer that blade. Brennan watched with an awed interest as those uncharacteristic shadows wove their magic right before his eyes. How that darkness hardly seemed fitting to kind hearted royal fae and yet... how expertly he wielded it all the same. A swirl of darkness and magic crackled about them. After but a few passing moments, the shadows melted away revealing an impressive obsidian sword. The pirate warlock wanting nothing more than to touch it, to test that balance of the blade. It was a remarkable thing. He had never seen a weapon like it, like it was crafted just for him, it looked like a sword crafted for a renowned adventurer to accompany a warrior on an epic quest. It was far better than anything he had used before. Dorian's explanation only increased his own awe of it. Shadow steel! He hardly know such a thing existed! He reached for the blade, unable to hold back any longer, pushing back his chair in order to feel it the weight of it within his hand. How badly he wished to test it. "Remarkable... I do feel this will help. I look forward to testing it, hopefully on nothing lethal..." He spoke, raising his silvery blue eyes from the sword to look Dorian in the eye. But he did say it was his to borrow... Just for how long, he hardly knew nor cared. This cutlass was fit for a pirate king and he would certainly enjoy it while it lasted. "This craftsmanship is unlike anything I have seen.. A blade born from magic... to slay magical creatures.. Fitting." He mused, flashing an up-to-no-good grin, reluctantly placing the blade before him, which probably took far more restraint than it should to put it down.
Brennan explained that mark, that awe upon the Italian king's features undeniable. Serafina completely comfortable to showcase her own irritation for the warlock himself for not telling her about it. How he could have preened, even at the negative attention she so doted upon him then. He would take any of it. He had never been a desperate man, but goddamn, he was desperate for a sliver of attention from her. Sebastian seemed concerned for the city, and rightfully so. Serafina's sharpened words brought that mischievous touch to his features. She cared... underneath it all. She truly did, even when she called him an asshole. A singular brow to rose. "I would be happy to address your concerns privately, milady." There was a suggestive hint to those words, leaning into the young, striking witch at his side before once again settling into his chair.
That thanks was soon uttered, that blunder of titles evident. "I am afraid I will forever be hopeless with these titles as I am with a cake fork..." It was the closest to a formal apology he was going to get, although it was amusing how Serafina was far more in tune to the difference. That dark haired witch would forever be full of surprises, he at least could concede to that. The woman fascinated him.
Their focus removed from everything else, including the distracting, glinting sword before him. That ancient book seemed to possess a dark seductive magic to it. He wondered if Dorian himself had... felt it its pull or only the warlock and witch in the room could feel it. Brennan could not help but run his fingertips along the hardcover of that book, brushing across the worn leather-bound surface with a near lovers caress. His gaze lingers upon that leather surface, almost curious of the books origins... the leather hardly seemed like normal cowhide, he didn't want to think what skin it had come from, abruptly looking away, his silvery blue eyes meeting Dorian's with a thoughtful expression.
For a moment the Tea party seemed to be going much better. A tension elevating.. the king even gleaning at the compliment the irish warlock spoke of. At least until his exposed mark seemed to glow.. a brilliant blue-white light. It would have been mesmerizing if its truth wasn't so..... unpleasant of what was to come. Not again. A groan escaped him, those uneasy glances at the table shifting to each other, quick to jump to their feet, with the exception of Sera who seemed perfectly content to take her time. Dorian was quick to declare this party over. Wanting nothing more than to usher them out. Sebastian was quick to agree.
"This is why I can't keep friends." Brennan grumbled.. and yet he could hardly blame them. Brennan moved to stand, not wishing to cause any further destruction, but he took on a hunter's gaze. Carefully examining for any signs of the creature that triggered his mark. The tension before was decidedly bearable in comparison to this. Suddenly.... A distant sound of glass shattering echoed ominously within that home. A curse hissed from his own lips. Sebastian moving to take a protective stance of his husband. Brennan knew better than to take that role for Serafina, the woman fully capable of defending herself. The woman perhaps far more powerful than Brennan could ever be. She was an absolute force.... And yet here she was.. content to play damsel. Brennan just barely shot her a look of sheer dismay. Really?
"Aye.. I refuse to let anything happen to your king.. It's the least I can do considering I make a terrible house guest.... But hopefully I make a better sentinel." His hand wrapped around the hilt of that impressive dark blade, magic seemed to sing through that rare metal and into him. He could feel it, call to his very powers. Interesting blade.. it was. He hoped it served to kill those demons. He loosened that tie once more so it was now loosely hanging around his neck. Sweet relief, his neck seeming to thank him. "Your vampire highnesss.. I suggest taking both Serafina and your king to safety.." He looked to Sebastian expectantly. It was only fair Brennan took the risk himself. The high ceiling mansion certainly had marvelous acoustics, the beast crying out its frustration. He grabbed the blade from the table with a deftness, purpose in his action before he moved through that home, down that hall toward a closed door.. That mark seemed to blaze even brighter. Brennan could hear it moving about that room.
He swung opened the door quickly, ready for that fight that was sure to come.
"Shite." He uttered with feeling as he noticed the grotesque massive scorpion looking creature leaving wreckage in the form of shattered glass in its wake. It exoskeleton seemed..... like battle armour.. it almost appearing metal. Brennan moved, falling into habit.. a warlock hunter at work. At least with the others out of harms way, he stood a chance at keeping them safe. Instantly the creature seemed to scream its grating discontent, an inhuman sound which seemed to rattle the house itself. It appeared ever aware of Brennen. Fixated, obsessed, like a bloodhound on a scent. In an instant, it lunged for the warlock, it limbs are like sharpened swords meant to impale, its tail poised before striking an instant late at the warlock. Brennan moved with surprising agility to miss it, ending up across the room before poising himself with that blade out... willing for that opportunity, a singular opening so he could strike. Just where that was, was yet to be seen.. the creature did not seem to possess a weak spot at first glance.
He hoped.... Dorain was right about this blade being able to cut anything. He was about to find out.