Serafina was hardly oblivious to the petty resentment that filled the baritone voice of her pirate. He seemed to detest any man who held her interest for more than just a passing moment. His vocal outburst near immediately capturing the gaze of everyone at the table. Her lips pressed together in a small frown of discontent as her stormy irises intently eyed the man beside her. The young witch was hardly the type to be embarrassed over her actions, her thoughts instead focused upon just how she wished to handle Brennan's clear irritations. How much did she want to draw things out? To give him hope when she already had given herself to another man. He had dated her before, surely he remembered her promiscuous nature? Though she had never outright cheated on Brennan, Serafina had certainly been known to walk that line. Loyalty had never been her strongest suit. "I haven't forgotten how important your book is, Brennan. I was just having fun with him. Do you know the last time I had a man blush at me?" She inquired, her eyebrow-raising as her arms crossed under her chest, the simple action only accentuating the swell of her breasts. As it was, however, she had little qualms with opening stating her intentions, or lack thereof, with the fae King. Serafina was nothing if not forward. Still, she fell to silence, her antics momentarily ceased as the conversation at the table instead turned to the talks of demons - to the satisfaction of surely every man surrounding her.
She listened in silence as the crowned King of Italy inquired after the visibility of those demons and how they might be vanquished back to the realm from which they originated. The very manners in which Brennan had worked out to bring about their death were so strikingly akin to those of the undead. Brennan, having clearly not thought ahead, paused in mid-sentence, just before drawing those similarities for the table to see. As it was, Serafina was more than content to fill in the blank space, though it hardly seemed to terribly perturb either the fae Monarch nor his vampiric husband beyond a soft sigh and pointed look. The young witch was equally as aware of the weight of Brennan's gaze upon her and yet, it was that soft, defeated tone to his baritone voice that caused her eyebrows to furrow ever so slightly. How...unlike him to be so upset at his own coarseness. He must particularly like Dorian - it was a friendship that she, admittedly, hadn't anticipated. The witch fell back to the comfort of her quietness as Dorian suggested he might have something else of use, the girl almost shifting her own behavior, imperceptibly, to accommodate for the apparent importance of the bond between her uncouth pirate and that overly refined Monarch. The weight of her stormy irises instead fluttered towards that display of power as those shadows began to swirl around Dorian's fingertips, shifting and contorting until an obvious shape became clear amongst the darkness.
Shadow steel, he had called it, and yet, like all things magical, even Serafina had to admit she was fascinated with it. How she desired to touch it and yet, it was not her blade to hold. Her own mind was already aswirl with inquiries on its usefulness and its limitations. Perhaps later, she might make things up to Brennan enough to get her hands, temporarily, upon the pirate cutlass. She wanted as Dorian passed the blade onto Brennan, the roguish man rose from his chair if only to test the very balance of it within his palm. How delighted her pirate looked! Like a boy at Christmas time with a new toy. It was enough to prompt a roll of her eyes but, for now, Serafina was willing to keep those observations to herself as Brennan placed the sword upon the table in front of him. It was only the utterance of a marking upon her pirate's skin that broke the witch's temporary vow of silence. A scowl crossed her fair features as she reached out for his arm, the girl rather vocal in her displeasure that he had kept this from her as much as he had those demons in the first place! Brennan's sudden insistence that he'd address her concerns privately however, caused her gaze to turn upwards from her inspection of the brand upon his arm. Her own eyebrow rose, mirroring Brennan's mischievousness with a hint of clear skepticism. "Is that so?" She inquired, her words kept purposefully noncommittal, neither denying nor taking advantage of that clearly intended offer. Serafina had little doubt where such privacy would go. After all, she had already deftly danced around those old feelings once. God, she was awful at saying no.
She was, thankfully, saved from further dancing around that innuendo by the very presence of that tome that had prompted their tea party in the first place. The very hum of that magic was all but palpable to the young witch, the book near mesmerizing the power that all but called to the witch. It was the very same sort of magic she'd felt at that demon portal - the seductive, delectable promise of all she could achieve if she embraced that very darkness that it represented. The grey colored of her own irises hardly left the hardcover as it was handed towards Brennan, the warlock running his own fingers gingerly down the spine. Her fingers reached out for the book, the novel clearly falling under her realm and yet, the last thing she anticipated as she waited to be handed the tome was the sudden bright white-blue glow of that mark upon Brennan's skin. The very luminosity of it drew her gaze though she was all too quick to remember just what that hue meant. Serafina wasted no time in plucking the novel out of Brennan's hands as the Warlock jumped to his feet, reaching for that blade of darkness. He was hardly the only one, however, who was so quick to leap upwards. Serafina glanced upwards with a vague glimpse of intrigue as Dorian strove to abruptly, albeit politely, shove them from the confines of his home. A soft exhale left her breath at Brennan's muttered words, and truly, she felt....pity for her pirate. He so clearly strove to make those connections with others - ones Serafina herself avoided. It upset her to see him so...bothered by this.
Even so, it was the sound of shattering glass that drew her gaze further into the household. The noise was enough to prompt movement from the young witch as she positioned herself further away from the sound, content, for now, to play that role of the damsel that she would surely be cast into. That glimpse of dismay that Brennan gave her, however, was met with a blank glance of innocence. She watched as the Warlock reached for that darkened blade, the man declaring that the King and herself should be taken to safety before disappearing down the hallway and closer towards the source of that sound. The creature's scream seemed to reverberate within the home, now that the shattered glass had ruined the perfect acoustics of a once closed-off room. It was the sudden sound of splintering wood that caused the witch to wince, and tentatively she glanced down the hallway only to observe some sort of...tail...thing sticking out of the wall? A soft sigh left her lips as she glanced back towards the pair of Italian royals. "I guess I should go help him....he'll kill it by himself at the expense of your entire household." She declared with a small shrug of her shoulders, the tail already dislodging from the hole it'd made into the wall, clearly preparing for another strike.
The storminess of her gaze turned back towards her, her head tilted to the side ever so inquisitively, her ebony locks shifting in the process. "Would you like to help? If not for him, then if only because you seem...capable." She inquired, holding out a singular hand with a raised brow. It was almost abrupt, the shape of a ghastly hand the moment it touched her own, her own affinity giving that ghost a tangible form. That wicked laughter filled the room as the Italian man was given visible life in that room. He glanced over his shoulder, that very look within his eye almost unsettling to Serafina and yet, whatever words he offered his brother was all but lost upon the girl - Italian had never been her forte, not that she could even recognize the foreign language for what it was. "Tsk tsk, over there. The beast needs slaying." The girl insisted, pointing vaguely down the hallway. She met the Italian's gaze head-on, the very weight of her own power apparently enough to cause her ghost to comply after that silent battle of wills. Serafina watched the Italian's sword dragged on wood, etching a line in the material with the tip of that sharpened blade. A second set of hands graced Serafina's own, the figure that appeared beneath the sway of the girl's magic distinct more feminine - from those brunette locks that fell down in loose curls down her back to the distinctly Victorian dress still stained from her death. "Sebastian..." That singular word left her lips as she immediately shifted away from the witch, reaching out for the vampire and yet, Serafina was single-minded in her goal. "Ah." She chastised, reaching out to ensnare the young woman's wrist. "We have a task to do, you can help....or you can go back to being unseen." The sternness to her voice was enough to cause the woman to pause, as if undecided before she gave way to Serafina's persistent pulling. After all, the witch needed a ghost if she intended to create a poltergeist and these ones had just enough anger and hurt to do the trick.