Blondiexbiites - Blog Posts

The mention of slayers makes Maria's skin crawl, jaw and shoulders tensing like a cats hackles standing on end. "Los bichos." She mutters, spitting at the ground to show exactly where she felt such hunters belonged. She had put many there herself; she'd also lost many friends and progeny to the overpowered and self-righteous humans. "They know not to come here." While her voice is still tense with anger, there is a sprinkling of pride, a slight curl at her lips at that very fact. About a century ago the stake-wielding vigilantes had seemed to give up on trying to rid the region of her and her army. Maria had been there a lot longer than them and her numbers only grew with every decade. Slinking back over to her captive, the dagger still dangles menacingly in Maria's hands. "I intend to keep it that way, comprender?"

Sharp browns drink in Madison's features; the commander saw no reason for the younger vampire to lie. Pity was perhaps not the word for what the Maria felt at the tangible fear and hopelessness seeping from the blonde, that was a sentiment she'd had to long rid herself of. No, it was more curiosity, the wheels turning in her mind as she ponders on a potential opportunity. A certain naivety she only ever saw in her newly turned or those abandoned by a creator, something she could meld in her hands like putty. "Catching the attention of the wrong people is exactly what has landed you here, chiquita. You need to learn how to be more discreet." The dagger is shoved into the sand swept in from the broken windows of the warehouse over time, dangerously close to the others leg. Maria leans in closer, a sharp nail coaxing the chin of the young vampire to face her like a feline toying with their prey. "Who is your maker? Did they not teach you the rules?" Of course there weren't exactly rules to vampirism, simply advice that kept you living longer than the average human lifespan. Something Maria had succeeded at nearly five times over. There were those who set the rules and those who knew how to bend them, and Maria would consider herself both. The former had served her well at keeping her progeny in line and the region under her command for so long.

The desert night had fallen in a spectacle of color and drama as Madison fled from her pursuers. When the kaleidoscope of hues finally faded, it left behind a black velvet sky scattered with the biggest, brightest stars she had ever seen. Despite the frantic pounding of her heart, the stark, desolate beauty of the landscape offered a strange sense of solace. But the truth remained—this land was treacherous and unforgiving, and she was woefully unprepared. Her pursuers were older, more experienced—true predators of the night, while she was nothing more than a desperate moth drawn to a deadly flame.

Her senses hadn't picked up the telltale prickle of being watched and followed, but she knew the terrain well enough to be certain of one thing: visibility was low, and the rugged folds of the mountains would conceal her well. A human tracker would have no chance of spotting even the faintest glimmer of movement from a distance. But vampires weren’t human. The relentless desert storm, with its howling winds and punishing heat, would make tracking impossible for anyone else—but she wasn’t relying on a trail, just the path of least resistance to escape.

There were no trees or rocks to shelter behind, only endless stretches of barren ground lashed by the storm, and yet her instincts remained razor-sharp. Just because she couldn’t see danger didn’t mean it wasn’t there. Her nerves had been forged in past conflicts with lycans, her instincts honed through survival. A lifetime away from wolves wouldn’t be enough to dull them. And in the space of a heartbeat, those instincts screamed a single, undeniable truth.

She was utterly, thoroughly fucked.

The memory of her humiliating defeat and capture burned through Madison, and her mouth twitched with the sudden impulse to peel her lips back and hiss at the formidable woman before her. But common sense—and sheer fear—kept her from giving in to her instincts.

Better to do nothing to provoke Maria’s fury this time and wait until she was in better shape to negotiate. Madison had to remember that Maria was far stronger than she looked; after all, she had trapped her like a bear in a cage without breaking a sweat. But then again, Maria had centuries on her. She hadn’t needed to expend much effort to have Madison bound.

“…I’m being hunted.”

No sense in lying. Madison was so woozy she could barely sit up—hell, she couldn't, not without help—but she knew better than to ask for it. The thought of looking weak turned her stomach, but she had to focus on easing Maria’s suspicions. If that meant slumping like a puppet with its strings cut, then so be it.

“I caught the attention of vampire slayers, and they won’t leave me alone.” No pouting lips. No batting eyelashes. No twirling her blonde curls. Madison was too exhausted to keep up the facade of a ditzy blonde, and too frustrated to entertain her captor. This was her true face—a young vampire at the end of her rope, with no prospects and no connections.

“To be fair, I did nothing to provoke them. I don’t go out of my way to reveal myself or fight them. The last thing I want is to kill a slayer with children—because then those children will grow up with a vendetta, and I’ll never know peace.” She shook her head in disgust, blonde ringlets bouncing. “But this group… they don’t hunt vampires out of duty or righteousness. They do it for fun, and they never let up. Your territory is safe, and I thought I could finally rest after running from them for so long. I thought laying low here was smart. But I was wrong.”

Her gaze darkened and she exhaled sharply.

“…And here we are.”

@prairieghcsts

@blondiexbiites cont from (x)

Sharp, viper-like browns study the face of her latest captive as Maria leans back on her chair, heeled boots rested up on the metal table in front of her. The only furniture in the long abandoned warehouse she used for such interrogations as the one she had planned for the blonde. Pretty, like a sleeping beauty; though Maria is not easily fooled. Her own youthful beauty had fooled many men, but only another woman knew how the outward appearance of innocence could be weaponised against those who would underestimate her. A venomous creature wrapped in a pretty pink bow. One who had been making far too much noise in Maria's territory, and who had not heeded her first warning to move on and find a new hunting ground. The Mexican commander didn't give second chances.

Her right hand and some of her more trusted soldiers had tracked the blonde to the outskirts of the region, disoriented her with their chase until she was wandering the desert, starved of blood, and then struck. The vervain laced cuffs chained around the concrete pole had done their job keeping her at bay, though Maria had grown tired of waiting. Standing up, Maria slinks toward her like a snake inspecting its prey before the final strike. Crouching down in front of sleeping beauty, she waves the vial of blood beneath her nose. Something that would even make a vampire stir from a thousand year slumber were they hungry enough. "Levántate y brilla, princesa."

As the blonde begins to stir, Maria shoves the vial back into the pocket of her leather jacket saving it for later use. Eyes flash like a warning sign, the Mexican queen laughs dryly at the first words from her prisoners mouth. Crimson lips curl sharply into a dark smirk. "Oh, that's sweet you think this is a game." Head tilts to the side, inspecting the wound at the others head that was having trouble healing, likely put there by her soldiers. Slender hands reach to touch it, though the roughness with which her thumb strokes at the scar could hardly be mistaken for a caress. "I am sorry for the violencia, little one, but if you had listened to my first warning it would not have come to this." Maria pouts, feigning regret. She was never that sorry for violence; it was something she felt quite at home with, in fact. She lets go of the others head, standing up with a sigh as she turns, her back to her captive. "You have been making such a mess around town my generals have only just managed to clean up. One might say it seems like sabotage...." She reaches the table, inspecting the instruments of torture in front of her. Reaching for a sharpened dagger still glistening with vervain, Maria turns back to face her prisoner, one hand in her back pocket as she waves the weapon in the other. "I'm only going to ask you once - why didn't you leave when I asked you?"