#noa hidalgo

[crownedinmarigolds]

Vamp-orwave wanted to see Noa surrounded by dark spirits and other things of the like while in her lil outfits... and unfortunately it's late so I didn't go all out on the background figures but I hope it gets the point across as a fun sketch!! At funerals we wear pink. <3

#noa #noa hidalgo #noa hidalgo giovanni #giovanni #hecata #vtm #vtm oc #vampire the masquerade #world of darkness #necromancer #vampire #my art #baby gorl

[thesixthplaneteer]

Here is my entry for the Masquerade Breach zine!! I have been hitting that word limit like a brick wall for the past month, and I am too excited to keep it to myself! My piece is titled Hell-O-Ween! A Masquerade Breach Story because we like cheesy horror in this house. Thank you for reading!

It’s the late 1980s in Las Vegas, Nythanel, and Noa are attending a Halloween party being put on by Don Jacob Rothstein. Held in a mansion in the desert far away from the city, so the more illicit activities don't fall under unwanted scrutiny, and only those in the know are supposed to be there. One person slipped past security, an ancient enemy of the Giovanni whose true motives are unknown, but their eyes are set on Noa tonight. What can a neonate necromancer and waterblooded sorcerer do when things really start to go bump in the night?

The green makeup of his Audrey Two costume hid the redness but Nythanel still felt the warmth of embarrassment and anger on his face. Fighting back tears he side stepped between costumed guests, tray toting servers, and did his best to fight the urge to bull them over as he went back to the ballroom. Don Jacob Rothstein's Halloween party was in full swing. The dance floor was lively, the bar was packed, and the live band seemed like they could go all night long.

He wanted to make his problem everyone else’s problem but held onto his senses, making a scene at the head of Clan Giovanni’s party wouldn’t make his night better. Noa’s bright red hooded dress and silver devil mask were easy to spot, but seeing her didn’t bring the ease to his mind he wanted. A tall figure in an elaborate red Venetian masquerade costume with a matching laughing mask loomed over her, holding her wrist.

The party-goers near them shuffled away and gawked. No doubt they thought some crass couple brought their backroom fun to the front. A wall of bodies formed to watch, but over their shoulders Nyth could see another masked person grab Noa from behind. Nythanel shoved over a woman in a peacock dress and jammed his elbows into the sides of two clowns to get through.

Noa struggled to get out of their grasp, but Red Mask jerked her arm the other direction. The snap was audible over the music, a pained scream erupted from Noa, a jagged peak shot up from under the sleeve of her dress. The crowd around them gasped, some retched, some clapped for what they thought was some Halloween entertainment, some quickly fled, others watched on unsure what to make of the display.

Nythanel burst free of the crowd and charged them, seeing that the second assailant's costume was also Venetian - though far less elaborate and the color beige. Red Mask noticed his approach and abandoned Noa with a leap backward as Nythanel slammed into the tussle, bringing them all down to the floor hard. Noa’s silver mask clattered to the ground while Beige’s mask was knocked askew but stayed on their face. The thin fabric of their costume tore as Nythanel gathered a fistful of it and pulled, the other fist delivering a hard blow to the back of their head, forcing them to surrender Noa in order to defend themselves.

The surrounding crowd was now comprised mostly of individuals thinking this was simply a show for the party. Some clapped, some cheered for who they picked as their favorite, while a few pulled their partners away.

Moving with trained agility, Nythanel threw his leg over Beige, pushing them onto their back, gaining control of the situation. Flesh exposed itself, the torn collar of the costume revealing their throat. Nythanel gazed at the sight for a moment. He had no Beast. There was no voice demanding he feed, no inner monster begging to kill. This desire was all his. He opened wide and lurched forward, his fangs breaking skin. Any scream to come was cut short by the crushing of their windpipe beneath teeth. Fresh warm blood cascaded into his mouth. Mortal, musky, the sting of alcohol, and a wine-like sweet finish. Sanguine he thought to himself as it empowered his own weak vitae.

Nythanel didn’t see where the sawed-off shotgun came from, nor notice how Beige was able to pull the concealed weapon, he only heard the deafening bang that brought him back to reality. A shower of blood and bone poured from a bystander’s face. Screams of terror erupted from the crowd, they slammed into each other in their mad scramble, going toward the back of the manor to get away from the no longer entertaining brawl. The band abruptly stopped, the gunshot ending the revelry. Not wanting to risk Noa or himself being the target of the next round he twisted and wrenched, flesh and inner tissue tore until he ripped free the section of throat seized by his vicious teeth.

More yells of fearful confusion came from the guests, the handful of them brave or drunk enough to think they could stop a gunman turned and ran as Nythanel spit the chunk of meat onto the floor. Suddenly, he felt pressure build in his ear drums, his heart became heavy with dread despite the flood of passion from the blood. He'd felt this before, when Noa had shown off her necromantic powers in their rare moments of being able to be alone together since arriving in Las Vegas. Nythanel had thought he’d become accustomed to it, or at least shouldn’t be caught off guard by it. Still it numbed the hot anger and hatred he felt. A curtain of wispy, incorporeal figures began to fall from the ceiling. They manifested into the material world like shadows cast into the air itself as they drank in the light, only allowing a dim glow to illuminate the room. Recognizably human, yet completely otherworldly. One such shadow fell over the victim of the beige thug’s gunshot. The body began to twitch and jerk, a sickening gurgle came out of its throat as the air pushed out of its lungs. Nythanel reeled back from the corpse shambling back to its feet, and turned to see Red Mask holding a black stone.

Noa moved to stand, and for a moment she was awestruck at the blatant display of Oblivion's power. Her already dark eyes turned black like a starless night. She wiped her palm across Nythanel’s chin, wetting her hand with the blood of his victim. Willing forth her vitae through the protruding wound in her arm, she let it drip down and mix with the cooling blood before taking hold of the locket around her neck. The air around her became humid and cold. A shiver went through Nythanel as he felt an icy touch trace his spine. The rose on his lapel wilted, and the few mortals that tried running past them collapsed, their eyes went dull, skin turned pale. Sapped of life. She waved her hand out in front of her and took measured steps forward, like a priest performing a sanctifying prayer, and the wispy shadows began to retreat.

The sound of wet choking reminded Nyth of the reanimated corpse, and as his head turned back, he saw it rush past him. His body at first couldn't move as a deep and primal terror seized him. It was walking death, but not his kind of death. True death, the kind even the undead feared. He didn't want to go near that thing, but as it closed the distance between itself and Noa, he knew he had to act or he would lose her. Grabbing hold of his dying lapel rose, he squeezed hard along its thorny stem to draw blood, calling upon the sanguine power within him. He mumbled the incantation and the rose revived in his hand, more vibrant than ever.

Nythanel willed the rejuvenated plant to grow, attempting to whip it towards the corpse to stop it in its tracks. With perhaps more luck than skill, the branch wrapped around the creature's throat, barbs digging into dead flesh. Nyth pulled hard, managing to stop it mere inches from Noa, yet the body remained upright as it struggled to fulfill its goal of reaching her.

Noa didn’t waver at all, either completely confident Nythanel would help her, or far too focused on taking control of the descending wraiths.The room was a thunderous cacophony of horrified cries and screams of dismay, the shattering of glass on the ground, the panicked stampeding of a mob with no direction to go in. Those who had witnessed Nythanel's attack and the arisen corpse tried to run away, but those who hadn't seen pushed back to try and reach the front exit. Spirits accosted various bystanders, forcing themselves into unwilling bodies to inflict more fear onto those surrounding them. Poltergeists scattered plates and knocked over chairs, some managing to even drop a large chandelier on top of the crowd. In the confusion, they didn't care who was trampled. The guests desperately lashed out at anything impeding their own escapes. Jewelry, costume accessories, blood, and bodies all dropped to the floor and were stomped on without a second thought. The wraiths were erratic, but Noa fought, countering the incantations of Red Mask as the shadows ebbed and flowed around them like a turbulent ocean. To an unknowing observer, the two appeared to be simply standing in place and muttering strangely, but Nythanel knew they both were manipulating the thin fabric separating the land of death from the land of the living.

The rose Nythanel turned into a weapon was also being sapped of its life and desperately it drank from him to stay alive. He shifted his weight and pulled as hard as he could to try and bring the corpse to the ground. There was little hope in killing something that was already dead. He forced his will onto the rose once more, allowing it to drink even more of his vitae. It expanded rapidly in response, sprouting more branches that ensnared the body and sawed into its skin with mutated spikes. Despite it being controlled by a spirit, it was still limited to the strength of the muscles it still possessed, or so Noa had previously explained. The writhing and wriggling vines continued to tear, severing the veins and nerves and rendering the wretched thing immobile for good.

His vision started to blur, his head swimming as his vitae was near exhausted. The rose had taken root in his arm and now it threatened to drink him dry. With nearly all he had left, he willed the passing of seasons on the flower, advancing its life cycle to the point it began to wither and decay until it too became immobile and dead.

The two necromancers were still locked in their strange duel, fighting for control of the spirit current that flooded the manor. Nythanel knew he had to help Noa, something better than running headfirst into a death dealer but his options were limited. His eyes went to the floor for answers, and sure enough there was: shotgun. Hurriedly he picked it up and aimed, hoping it had the promised second shot, though the room spun in his hungry near-delirium. With a squeeze of the trigger the weapon thundered, sending its payload into the shoulder of the Red Mask. Crimson exploded from their wound as they stumbled back, their concentration breaking enough for Noa to gain the upper hand. Her good arm raised higher, and the undulating ceiling seemed to calm as the wraiths obeyed her. The shadow over the ballroom lifted slowly as she brought them to heel.

The Red Mask despite all of the trouble and their fresh injury seemed to have accepted their defeat. With only a glance to Noa and a dramatic throw of their cape, a cold silence surrounded them as they simply walked away. Despite the chaos of the still frightened crowd, they were swallowed within the mob as if they had not even been there. Nythanel at first made a move to follow, but stopped himself as Noa began to buckle. Good riddance, he thought sheepishly as he turned to her, relieved the death dealer decided to just leave. She was more important to him, anyway.

As the full brightness of the lights returned and the pressure lifted from his ears, the distinct sound of Italian leather stomped across the floor towards them from behind. A ham-handed man took hold of his collar and jerked him into the air, the shotgun crashing loudly onto the marble.

"You're gonna wish you were fuckin' dead when I'm through with you, Warlock." Growled Adolfo Puttanesca, right hand of the Don.

#vtm #vampire the maquerade #my writing #world of darkness #nyth #nythanel #noa #noa hidalgo #thinblood #clan giovanni #clan hecata #masquerade breach #vtm oc #harbinger of skulls #wilted roses

[kentuckycaverats]

The envelope is baby-pink, the finish on the material like satin. There is the unmistakable scent of roses and a much more subtle smell of chemical wafting from it. Inside is Bellamy's type bingo card reprinted on fine card stock, the shade of the paper complete with a pinkish hue. Various boxes and small responses are written in clean fountain ink, clearly this person kept a stationary kit at their desk and has been practicing using that pen. There is a small photo of a young woman staring at the camera with dark eyes, and a short letter attached, written in very pristine handwriting: "This game is infectious, I see a lot of local Kindred are participating in 'type bingo.' An acquaintance of mine shared your card with me and I really like what you value. If it's not too forward, I've attached mine as well. I would not mind meeting you sometime if you felt the same." Signed below in a slightly larger hand, Noa Vincenza Rosario Giovanni-Hidalgo.

bellamy reads over the letter for the fifth time, bringing the scented envelope to his nose yet again. I would not mind meeting you sometime if you felt the same, she'd written.

when chess strong-armed him into filling out this bingo card thing he hadn't really thought anything but mild amusement would come of it; yet here he is, looking at a near-perfect sheet and a photo of probably the most drop-dead gorgeous woman he's ever seen, and all of it dripping with pink and the smell of roses. if his heart still beat it would be leaping from his chest right now.

trying to play it cool, as if she might somehow sense his enthusiasm through bingo card alone, he scans over her unmarked sheet as well, and: holy shit. nearly a full sweep there too. he can practically hear the nuclear-grade eyeroll chess will give him for even entertaining the idea of meeting up with a giovanni, but hey, the cards speak for themselves--there might be real potential for something here.

Ms. Giovanni-Hidalgo,

It was a delight to receive your letter. If the cards are any indication, it sounds like maybe I've been waiting to meet you for a long while. I'd be grateful for a chance to steal an evening of your time, if you're so inclined.

Bellamy Hollis, he/they

P.S. Love the perfume. What color do you like your roses?

Enclosed is Noa's own bingo card, filled.

#THEYRE CUTE I DIG IT #he's got hearts in his eyes already. simp #bellamy hollis #vtm

[gnarledbite]

The envelope Garrett receives is soft pink, the scent of roses and a subtler whiff of formaldehyde coming off of the shiny material of the paper. Its contents are printed on card stock, crisp and clean, and the pen used to highlight the qualities of the sender appears to be of an older fountain variety. Someone takes their stationary usage very seriously.

The survey is signed at the very bottom: "Noa Vincenza Rosario Giovanni Hidalgo." Ah, that explains the possible smell of embalming fluid.

Type Bingo || Always Accepting!

The first thing he noticed was the scent of roses, followed by an underlying chemical odor of... what was that, formaldehyde? Where did this even come from?

He turned his eyes to the contents, taking note of the stationary and ink markings. Someone had indeed taken some extra effort into this one, and marked out three bingos in the process. Interesting. His gaze moved to the signature at the bottom. It didn't seem to be anyone he knew, certainly not a Noa Vincenza Rosario Giov--

Oh. Giovanni.

Yeah that explained the second scent he picked up.

#Answered #crownedinmarigolds #Type Bingo #// thanks for sending this! X3

[problemsynth]

The envelope Solaire receives is light pink, the material like satin, and the type card inside is printed on fine card stock. The squares are highlighted in what may be an old fountain pen. Clearly this person is into stationary. There are no bingos it looks like, but there is a small little note also placed inside the card. "My best friend showed me that you filled out one of these as well, they're very fun! You're very lovely, I hope you have a wonderful evening. - Noa Vincenza Rosario Hidalgo Giovanni"

Her returning letter is scrawled in cutesy loopy letters on the back of small print for her band Midnight Solstice. Accompanying it is Polaroid of her blowing the camera a kiss.

"Aw, aren't you just the sweetest thing? I think I will, Noa. You have a lovely evening too. - xox Sol <3"

#crownedinmarigolds #my art #funny bingo game

[vinileti]

GRAINS OF SAND BOOKING presenta: Werner Karloff es uno de los músicos más prometedores de la escena underground contemporánea. Su esencia está basada en influencias de estilos de la década de los años 1980s como el EBM, industrial, techno y new wave de artistas como DAF, A Split Second, Patrick Cowley entre otros. El trabajo de Werner Karloff está fuertemente inspirado por el futurismo italiano y el expresionismo alemán, la idea de la maquina y el hombre, la vida en la ciudad, la velocidad y los paisajes fríos y grises de las zonas industriales. Ha tenido participación en Europa y Sudamérica y lanzado múltiples discos con sellos en USA, Alemania, España e Italia. Viniletti se une al cartel junto a el show estelar. El Artista estará tocando su nuevo EP, de cuál se desprende el nuevo sencillo «La Ciudad Es Mi Religión». Black Cats dúo de música electronica con géneros influencias como Electroclash, EBM, Techno que también estara dando de qué hablar con sus potentes Kicks en este día. Cupo estrictamente limitado. 🛑 Medidas sanitarias obligatorias. Costo del boleto: $100 Lugar: Noa Noa (Av. Universidad, 192) 🎟 Boletos físicos (sin comisión) 📍 SANTO GRIAL (Independencia, 61A) Martes — Sábado (15:00 — 21:00) Domingo (12:00 — 16:00) 📍 Café Toulouse Lautrec (Hidalgo, 27) Lunes — Sábado (9:00 — 17:00) 📍 Entregas personales. Todos los días, zona Centro. 442-600-1881 999-436-8669 @gosbooking @wernerkarloff @blackcatsmx2020 https://www.instagram.com/p/CQ_fihvD9P1/?utm_medium=tumblr

[kyrylys]

💖💖¿Lo has leído? Si 📖 / No 📓💖💖 Encuesta disponible 24h en stories. Si te gustan las antologías estás de suerte porque hoy voy a hablar de De matar también se sale; una antología macrabra y con toques de humor. Si esperas una antología de relatos de terror gore y que te ponga la piel de gallina siento decirte que esta no es la lectura que estás buscando. Si por el contrario quieres ver unos toques de humor y mamarracheo que le quiten seriedad al asunto y que los relatos sean desde el punto de vista de monstruos y asesinos que se ven forzados al asesinato aunque no quieran... bueno, entonces te va a encantar! No puedo contar mucho más, ya que al ser una antología de relatos cortos de varies autores cada uno tiene un tono diferente, pero si que me gustaría mencionar los tres que más me han gustado, que han sido (sin ningún orden en particular): "Patuco", "Una cuestión de Vida y Muerte" y "Echar a volar". Después del cierre de Grupo Amanecer, puedes encontrar la antología disponible en modo pago social en Lektu (Gratis a cambio de un tweet o estado de facebook). Y te la recomiendo sobre todo si te gusta descubrir nuevas voces del panorama literario patrio; que es por lo que me gusta leer este tipo de publicaciones, si bien suelo encontrarme con autoras que me encantan en este tipo de antologías siempre termino disfrutando un montón con algune autote nueve. Dime, si la has leído cuál o cuales han sido tus relatos favoritos ^^ #DeMatarTambiénSeSale #variosautores : Sheila Navalón, Manuel Muñoz Hidalgo, Erik Reenberg Mogollon, Ana Vigo, Iván Mayayo Martínez, Cristina Murillo Muela, Carlos J. Sanchez, M.J. Ceruti, Raquel Aysa Martínez, Noa Velasco, Mary L. Torres, Alfred Almasy, Myriam M. Lejardi, Sara García Rizzotto, Beatriz Sánchez Martín, Marina Tena Tena, Ilustración de portada: #GemmaMartínez #Antología #Relato #LeoAutoras #LeoAutoresEspañoles #marKapaginas #parloteolibros #KindleKeyboard #leoendigital #Bookstagramas AndalucíaSevilla #Leído #bombón #moncheri #LibrosDeInstagram #lecturas #amorporloslibros #quéleer #AdictaALeer #yoLeo #lektu (en Triana (Sevilla)) https://www.instagram.com/p/CKeAZQNKdOu/?igshid=z7cu17jqah76

#dematartambiénsesale #variosautores #gemmamartínez #antología #relato #leoautoras #leoautoresespañoles #markapaginas #parloteolibros #kindlekeyboard #leoendigital #bookstagramas #leído #bombón #moncheri #librosdeinstagram #lecturas #amorporloslibros #quéleer #adictaaleer #yoleo #lektu

[cominic1991]

En honor al día de la independencia de Mexico [Sí, es hoy 15, no el 5 de Mayo-.-], les dire algunas cosas que acostumbran hacer los Mexicanos :v

1- Es de ley que al menos te debes saber tres canciones del artista Juan Gabriel, las cuales serian: Noa Noa, siempre en mi mente, No tengo dinero.

2-Auque no lo creas, no a todos los mexicanos les gusta el chile. Pero aun así la mayoria de la comida tiene chile. "Ho es muy picante o muy dulce"

3-Tenemos la costumbre de usar el diminutivo en todo, TODO: "Pasame ese vasito de la lumbrecita, hijo"

4- Necesitas saber quien es Pedro Infante, Vicente Fernandez, Cantinflas, Chespirito. Si no, fracasaste como Mexicano.

5- Aunque sí existen mexicanos de muy buen parecer, la gran mayoria son pasables o... horribles.

6- Debes conocer al menos cinco nombres de grandes mexicanos: Zapata, Hidalgo, Josefa, Maria Morelos, Iturbide (?

7- Los mexicanos NO usamos siempre Zarapes o Sombreros.

8- Podemos comer desde Pozole, enchiladas, frijoles charros asta Pescado al vapor, langosta, Filete, etc.

9- No eres Mexicano si no te sabes al menos una canción de Cri Cri

10- Nosotros no tenemos pena de nada, NADA

11- Siempre nos burlamos de nuestras desgracias y hacemos memes.

12- Siempre salimos adelante, aunque todo este perdido.

[lcorcuera]

Performar lo indecible II - Ana Matey from Laura Corcuera on Vimeo.

Ciclo coordinado por Laura Corcuera, investigación sobre el Arte de Acción, Una Ciudad Muchos Mundos, programa impulsado por Intermediae, Matadero Madrid, España (2018-2019).

EJE MAREA EN ESPERA PERFORMANCE: SOBRE LA ESPERA PERFORMER: Ana Matey Fotografía: Alba Soto Sábado 19 de enero de 2019 de 18 a 20 h. en CentroCentro Cibeles Pensar en la espera… espera - expectativa, espera - dilación, espera - permanencia, espera - estancia, espera - demora, espera - retraso, espera - aplazamiento, espera - parada, espera - prórroga, espera - expectación, espera - esperanza, espera - perspectiva, espera - futuro, espera - posibilidad, espera - salida, espera - esperar, espera - aguardar, espera - permanecer, espera - quedarse, espera - aguantar, espera - perseverar, espera - resistir… en lugares de espera… de expectativa, de dilación, de permanencia, de estancia, de demora, de retraso, de aplazamiento, de parada, de prórroga, de expectación, de esperanza, de perspectiva, de futuro, de posibilidad, de salida, de esperar, de aguardar, de permanecer, de quedarse, de aguantar, de perseverar, de resistir… ¿Cuál es la espera más larga que has tenido en tu vida? ¿Qué brota dentro de ti al hacerte esta pregunta?

ANA MATEY. Artista madrileña realiza una obra que transita entre el campo de las artes visuales, la performance, la acción, la danza butoh y en los últimos años explora el mundo sonoro en sus piezas, buscando a través del movimiento corporal y el objeto generar un diálogo o conversación. En los últimos años la conversación gira entorno a la relación humano-naturaleza, cuestionándose la posibilidad de una nueva simbiosis, así como otra vía de conocimiento y manera de estar en el mundo. Eternamente agradecida por sus testimonios a Pilar Marañón, Guillermo Ruiz Mantilla, Antonio Chamorro, Paula Pascual, Raúl Díaz-Obregón, Johanna Speidel, Yolanda Pérez Herreras, Loúrdes Contreras, Helena Fernández-Cavada, Karim Kharboui, Daniel Franco, Cristina Contreras, Alba Soto, Maria Rosa Hidalgo, Prisca Sinay, Seydu, Polina Parrhesia, Xirou Xiao, Pilar Baselga, Noa Reshef, Isa Sanz, Paquito Nogales, Paula Caballero, Giusseppe Domínguez, Nerea Ubieto, Carmen LaGriega, Manuel Segovia, Christian Fernández-Mir��n, Georgina Marcelino, Luis Fores, Tania Arias, Luis Elorriaga, Diego Baselga, Lola Mansilla, Isabel León, Ana Gesto, Nieves Correa, Miguel Matey, Gadea Quintana, Sonia, Jorge Talavera, Feli García, Karli, Carmela Saro, Wade Matthews, Carmen Romero, Chema Fernández-Cavada, Mario Montoya, Doris Steinbichler, Juan Carlos Correa, Felipe Ortega-Regalado, Iván Sousa, Bárbara Domínguez, Beatriz Teja, May Gelsomina, Ibirico Saenz, Igor Sousa, Jorge, Joao Guerrero, Miguel Guzmán, Flavio Martín, Miriam Alemán, Domix Garrido, Isabel Corullón, Jorge Rey, Nadia, Esther, Max Nitrofoska e Irene Vizcaíno".

[crownedinmarigolds]

Proud Hecata.

#vampire the masquerade #vtm #vtm oc #noa #noa hidalgo #giovanni #clan giovanni #clan hecata #hecata #world of darkness #wod #my art #vamily #I LOVE THIS.... i'm SORRYRYYY #it was a sketch that got out of hand... had an idea and it stuck

[thesixthplaneteer]

The Seed of the Serpent

The Seed of the Serpent is a write up in mine and @crownedinmarigolds VTM canon. It features Noa, Nythanel, and other OCs we have! If you would like a peek at some of what has lead up to this event, click here for a write up by the lovely Crownedinmarigolds. Nythanel has been near fatally wounded and seemingly is unable to recover due to being Duskborn, Thinblood. Noa seeing no other option tries to reconnect with her family much to the dismay of her brother Joaquin. As she waits and hopes for Nythanel to recover she finds herself having a much more difficult time handling tasks and those around her. Hitting a breaking point she decides she needs him back, and needs him back now. Her own studies and reading over Nythanel's alchemical theories leads her to seeking the help of the local Followers of Set. The dawn of the twenty first century is near and their fate unclear.

The descent into the basement was made difficult by the narrow stairs. Julian nearly stumbled several times while carrying Nythanel, causing Noa's dead heart to drop every time. Her grip on the black leather briefcase she carried was so tight her nails tore into the leather. She kept herself composed but with every stumble she was forced to imagine Nythanel’s body becoming more broken, or worse. All this was exacerbated by Joaquin’s teasing of Julian and acting like he was going to drop the wheelchair. She was sure he would have pushed them if she wasn’t  in front of the group. It felt like the stairs went on impossibly long before the final step to level ground. The end of their descent brought relief for one anxiety, only to give rise to another. They were now in the temple of the Followers of Set.

At the base of the stairs she quickly made sure her sleek, form-fitting dress was straightened out. It was far enough outside what she normally wore that it added to her discomfort, but at least it was pink. Julian followed, always looking out for the unspoken instruction, placing Nythanel in the wheelchair before checking his collar and brushing down his coat. Joaquin watched them fuss over themselves and chuckled at Noa as she straightened Nythanel’s outfit. Noa had Julian and Nythanel dressed in coats and pants that were freshly pressed and shoes that were shined. They were here on business and she aimed for them to be dressed appropriately. Joaquin of course rebelled against “dressing nice for some blood sucker” and sported a brown leather jacket, t-shirt and jeans. She wanted to remind him at that moment that she too was a blood sucker, but it wouldn’t have done anything but devolve into an argument that would lead to only more frustration and more rebellion. If he wasn’t going to be well dressed, she at least needed him well behaved.

Noa stood up straight and took in the first breath since they started down the stairs. “I need both of you to remain quiet. Look no one in the eyes, and look at nothing longingly.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Julian dutifully answered between heavy breaths, taking a hold of the push handles on Nythanel’s wheelchair. Even with all his natural strength added to the power given to him from Noa’s vitae, he was still out of breath from carrying Nythanel down the steep stairs.  

Joaquin let out a snort. “Yeah, sure.” 

“I’m serious, Joaquin.” Noa said sternly. 

Joaquin balked but knew she was right. He should keep his trap shut, for now. Julian side eyed him, a faint air of smugness for knowing his place. 

“You wanna be in a wheelchair too, jackass?” Joaquin turned toward Julian with his fists balled tightly.  

“I said be silent!” Noa’s voice rose just slightly, her tone becoming harsh.  

At that moment she sounded like their father. Far too much like their father for Joaquin’s liking. Far too damn much. But unlike with their father, he obeyed and went silent. 

“Julian, stop goading him and pay attention to what you are supposed to be doing.” Noa forced herself to take a deep breath to calm her nerves. 

It was bad enough she had to try talking to the Followers of Set without Nythanel being able to assist, but these two seemed like they wanted to sabotage it. The Beast inside her screamed at her to rid herself of these idiots. Drink them dry! It yelled at her. You want to be treated seriously? Then go in with a full stomach!  Another deep breath calmed the Beast, a meditative practice when one doesn't need to breathe. It’s not been as effective in recent nights.  

“Let’s go.” She commanded and started down the long cement walled hall. 

She walked alongside Nythanel, occasionally brushing her hand against his shoulder. A nervous reassurance that he was still there. Joaquin strolled right behind Noa despite his and Jullian's frames taking up the width of the hallway. The hallway was long, unnecessarily so. It seemed the Setites wanted to give their guests time to decide if they really wanted to be here. The lights were dim and warm like artificial candles. Noa was used to working in dim light but the spacing between the lights made it excessively dark. Even with the low light, Noa could see a golden glint at the end. A door, decorated with large red ankhs along with a golden scrolling line of hieroglyphs. When they finally reached it after what seemed like minutes, Noa steadied herself with a deep breath one last time before giving a single hard knock. As if the person on the other side was simply waiting for the courtesy to be observed, the door immediately came open. 

The full force of the droning industrial techno playing inside beat against their ear drums. Noa and Joaquin seemed least affected, Joaquin’s own ear drums abused by loud club music and gunfire. Noa refused to allow any sign of weakness in her now that they were entering the temple proper. Julian winced at the sudden sound as his grip on the wheel chair loosened, wanting to bring his hands up to cover his ears. Catching himself, he tightened it once more to not displease Noa. A club goer himself years ago but he still wasn’t ready for just how loud it actually was. Nythanel shifted in the wheelchair. His movements were slow and unsteady but it was clear he was uncomfortable with the noise. Noa looked at him, a feeling of pity and sorrow swelling in her but she quelled it, he wouldn't want her to feel that about him. 

The inside of the temple was like a scene in a movie. Stone columns with white cotton sheets hanging between them like sheer dividers. A thin haze of smoke choked the air. Ahead of them through the fabric they could make out silhouettes of people, mingling and entangling together so much that they seemed like a single writhing beast. 

The heady smells of incense, sweat, and more besieged their nostrils. Noa was mostly spared, only needing to breathe when she spoke. But the other three had functional lungs. They drew in the smog and were overcome with the earthy, burnt timber and sweet citrus smell making their heads swim. Joaquin and Julian were no strangers to substance use. This mild high wouldn't be their undoing, but it certainly helped them feel a little more relaxed. A little more okay with the pounding rhythmic music. A little more comfortable in a strange place. Nythanel’s cheeks became rosy as he breathed in the smoke and his muscles relaxed.

A voice somehow pierced the thrum of the music. It was calm, controlled, and clear. 

“Miss Hidalgo.” Spoke a bald man with a serious face. 

He was shorter than Joaquin or Julian by a few inches. He had a strong chin and nose but his face still had a softness to it that, judging by how his suit fit, his body did not have. He was not as opulently dressed as Noa would have expected for a Follower of Set. He had a modest amount of jewelry, just two thin rings and nice cufflinks. His suit was pretty basic, wine color, possibly a high end material. Noa looked at him with a polite smile and faint recognition. She was sure this man was the bouncer in Mexico years ago. It felt strange to be delighted in a familiar face amongst the snake den. Before she could give an answer he spoke again. 

“I am Arham.” He introduced himself with a shallow bow. “If you and your party would follow me. Just this way.” He turned and started walking. He spoke like a trained and experienced concierge.

Noa waved her party on to follow the man. Her anxieties ate away at her. Soon they would find out if they walked into a trap, or if a deal could be struck. Eyes leered from around the pillars and the sheets, hands reached out and grasped for Arham and their group. Voices called out to them, inaudible through the music. Julian would look through the corners of his eyes then force himself to look forward, remembering Noa’s instructions. Joaquin scowled, eyes locked on Arham.

Their guide pulled back a curtain to reveal a pair of plain doors. He opened them to reveal yet another dimly lit hallway. Noa’s anxiety fueled her frustration. She wondered if they were just being toyed with. The only calming sight ahead of them were the large doors at the end of the hall. That had to be their meeting room.

“Just through those doors, Miss Hidalgo.” Arham said as he gestured towards their destination.  

The doors at the end of the hall were ornate like the ones that had led into the temple. Their handles were golden and their surfaces decorated with a mural that seemed to be made of inlaid gemstones. It was a depiction of a crocodile headed man fighting a tiger. A large snake boarded the mural. Noa couldn’t help the sense of awe. The Followers were an ancient clan and their histories and rituals were so shrouded in lies and half truths, seeing just a glimpse of it first hand was exciting in itself. She considered the meaning behind the crocodile man and tiger fighting… until she realized they weren’t actually fighting, but coupling. A shot of embarrassment went through her for not noticing immediately. Not just for herself, but for playing into what she thought was a stereotype of the clan.

Joaquin let out a sharp laugh at the sight of it. “Think they’ll want us to fuck a tiger?” He said, still chuckling to himself. 

Noa cut an angry look at him. It said all that needed to be said and served as a reminder of him needing to be silent. He huffed and looked away, and Noa was thankful for the best outcome of that situation. Refocusing her attention, she took the golden handle and pulled open the door. 

The room looked like a lounge and sitting room. Chairs upholstered in velvet of different colors with golden accents. Cushions and large pillows were in piles on the floor. Works of art hung on the walls and rested on pedestals. On the parts of the walls without hanging art there were grand painted murals. The room was lit with only candles, giving a flickering glow throughout the room but no detail was hidden. Standing near a portrait of a naked woman was another familiar sight for Noa. 

His hair was yellow gold and skin golden-bronze like the scales of a desert snake, he even glinted in the candlelight. He had a strong and muscled build, broad-shouldered and tall. He wore a silk robe that trailed down to the floor. When he turned to greet them, they realized the robe gave him very little in terms of modesty. The open chest revealed the myriad of tattoos that decorated him. The most prominent one a snake that seemed to slither all over him, the head at his throat and posed to strike out. There were also Ankhs, a lotus flower, a stalking tiger peeking from behind the snake’s body, and filling the spaces between were hundreds if not more hieroglyphs. His hawkish nose was well framed by the rest of his handsome features. Full lips, a strong jaw, high cheekbones. He was the most impossibly beautiful man Noa had ever seen, there was no way to confuse him with any other. The irises of his eyes were golden with slit serpent-like pupils. He had a wide and disarming smile.

“Greetings, Miss Hidalgo! Welcome to our temple, I am so excited to have you here with us.” He spoke to Noa as if the others were not in the room. “This is my wife, Parvati.” He gestured to a pile of pillows in the corner of the room. 

At first glance there seemed to be no one, but as Noa’s eyes adjusted further, she saw the Hierophant’s wife. Unmoving, like a waiting predator, was a woman with deep warm skin. She lacked even the attempted modesty garment Harrakhty wore. Her long dark hair draped over her curvy body. Her unblinking gaze intense and seeming to pierce right through them. Her sharp jaw, smooth cheeks, aquiline nose, and full lips made her another image of impossible beauty. The body jewelry she wore framed her large breasts and accentuated the curves of her belly and hips. Lines marked her stomach, implying she may have been a mother in another time. 

The woman stirred and watched as they became aware of her. Julian’s eyes were locked on her. He couldn’t help himself or keep his desire completely at bay.  

Noa stood next to Nythanel with the other two just behind them and led the conversation. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Parvati.” Noa said to the woman then looked back at the Hierophant. “And you of course, Mr. Harrakhty. I really am grateful for this meeting.” Her smile is polite and her tone business-like. 

“Oh of course!” He said as he drew nearer. His lack of underwear was apparent as the fabric of his robe hugged his body. “All out of the goodness of my heart and all that.” He stopped just a few feet away and looked down at Nythanel who stared ahead, seemingly not aware. “Is this our special man?” He said, leaning down to look at Nythanel’s face. 

Nythanel’s head turned slowly and his unbandaged eye met with Harrakhty’s gaze. The glazed over look in Nythanel’s eye gave way to a spark of something deeper inside trying to escape before glazing over again and his posture returned to a neutral state. 

“Oh yes, you're very special aren’t you?” Harrakhty commented as he stood up straight again. 

Parvati’s gaze was focused on Nythanel. She shifted on the pillows, now sitting up from her lounging position. 

“You know Miss Hidalgo. This feels like a very common group for your clan.” He spoke, seemingly refusing to allow any dead air in the conversation, or for her to speak. “Strapping, similar featured bodyguards. The delicate often waifish boss. Someone incapable of caring for themselves.” 

As he spoke Noa reached out and took Nythanel’s hand. She hated how much Harrakhty seemed to be familiar with her clan and just how predictable they were apparently. It was obviously meant to be a display to make them uncomfortable or irritable and unfortunately it was working. She wished more than anything that Nythanel were able to speak and engage Harrakhty in this social dance. But he couldn’t, all because of her. She got them into this mess and she will need to get them out. She felt a fire light in her as she felt Nythanel’s grip tighten on her hand. 

“It’s all very Giovanni.” Harrakhty continued. “So, I must know, which one are you shtupping?” He said with a smirk but his eyes were not on Noa, they were on Joaquin and Julian. 

Joaquin scowled at the question and Julian shuffled uncomfortably, pulling his attention away from Parvati. Idiots she thought to herself. They remained silent like she told them but their expressions and body language were giving Harrakhty all the answers he wanted.   

“Ah!” He said with a self satisfied grin. 

“With all due respect.” Noa said, the same all business voice she greeted him with. “That is not what we are here to discuss, Mr. Harrakhty.”  

“Yes of course!” Harrakhty said with a short laugh. “Apologies, I rarely get to speak with your clan on good terms after that whole, consuming the cappadocians event. My curiosity got the better of me.” As he spoke he sauntered over to the same pile of pillows his wife was sitting on and flopped over onto them, putting his arm around her. She seemed to register his touch and rested her head on his shoulders, but her eyes never left Nythanel. 

The robes Harrakhty wore now hid nothing as he reclined with his legs spread. His antics were obviously upsetting Joaquin as he started to shuffle in place, angry he had to stand here and listen to a vampire. Julian was basically drooling while staring at Parvati once more. Noa recanted to herself how important this meeting was to keep herself calm and push down her anxieties. She had to remind herself she still needed Quino and Julian. 

“I understand, I have my curiosities of your own reclusive clan. However I am here for a specific reason.” Noa took just a moment to take a breath, unfortunately allowing an opening for Harrakhty. 

“Yes well if you could-” Harrakhty’s voice trailed off as his wife's hand ran over his bare chest. 

“My love.” She said in a cold pur. Her intense gaze now upon him. “Let her speak.” 

The air in the room became thick and Noa was afraid they were going to reenact the mural on the door as they stared into each other’s eyes. Harrakhty then looked back at Noa, with the smirk that seemed permanent on his face. 

“Again, apologies. Continue.” 

Noa nodded acknowledgement to his apology then spoke again. “As you can see my Nythanel has been injured. He is Duskborn and unable to heal himself. I can help him. But I need to ask you if you can perform a ritual. I have heard rumors of the Followers of Set being able to remove Kindred hearts without triggering their Final Death.” 

Both pairs of eyes were on her. Their intense stare. Both so predatory it was no wonder they represented themselves as apex predators. Harrakhty rolled his hand to signal Noa to go on. 

“I need you to remove his heart. Safely.” She felt her own heart drop. The worries of everything that needed to go wrong in order to put them in this position of weakness. The spiral of everything that could go wrong from this point coiled around her and squeezed tightly. 

Harrakhty let out a deep chuckle, the welcoming warmth waned and the air around him became sinister. “That is a big ask. Tell me Miss Hidalgo, what does an orphan and an invalid have that can be in comparison to an ancient rite reserved only for our most devout?” 

“Cut the bullshit will you? Get on with the creep show so we can leave.” Joaquin loudly declared. 

Noa quickly shot a scowl at him. She had no idea what he could be thinking or planning but she didn’t want him doing it. She couldn’t tell if he was actually thinking he was being helpful or if he was trying to ruin everything like he always does. Something she found herself wondering a lot lately. Her look cut into him and he became still, scowling back at her. The coiling emotions squeezed tighter on her with embarrassment.

She looked back to Harrakhty. “Could my mortal cohort possibly wait outside?” 

“Arham.” Harrakhty called out.

The door they came in pushed open. The same bald man that led them through the temple. 

“Yes?” He asked.

“Can you give these gentlemen the tour? Don’t have too much fun now.” He said with a smile. 

“Yes sir.” Arham looked expectantly at Joaquin and Julian. 

Julian looked to Noa for instruction and Joaquin sucked in air through his teeth but it was clear she was only going to get more upset with him if he stuck around. 

“Whatever.” Joaquin said with a huff and walked out of the door, brushing against Arham as he left. 

Noa motioned with her hand toward the door and Julian followed. 

With the others gone and the door sealed, Noa felt some sense of relief over her. She hated how much having Joaquin out of the room made her feel more at ease. But he’s proven too many times he was too brash. She rested her hand on Nythanel’s shoulder and with new found confidence spoke to Harrakhty. 

“With the combination of the disciplines I've studied and my beloved’s own studies, we can create new life.” 

Harrakhty allowed a quiet moment, giving Noa a chance to continue before he spoke. 

“We can create a viable womb to support the gestation of an offspring.” Noa said, taking a pause to let it start to sink in. “I can facilitate the bearing and birth of you and your wife's child.” 

Harrakhty still smiled and let out a quiet chuckle,very amused at the impossible fantasy she proposed. Then his smile dropped and he looked at Parvati who was still hanging onto his shoulder. They stared into each other's eyes like they were having a silent conversation. Then he looked back at Noa. 

“You really believe you can do that, don’t you?” There was no more amusement in Harrakhty’s tone or expression. 

“I do.” Noa replied confidently. 

“How?” Harrakhty asked. 

Noa knew she had his full attention now. Few loved the sound of his voice more than him. Single word sentences meant he was focused on something other than himself. “I have all of the details here in this case.” She tapped the briefcase for emphasis. “It will require invasive surgery, and the transplanting of Duskborn reproductive organs into you and your wife. It will require a lot of blood.” 

“Thinblood parts? Oh this is very interesting. Tell me, how will it be my child if I am using the gonads of someone else?” Harrakhty asked with all sincerity. 

“They will be treated with an alchemical process using your vitae.” Noa answered. “Same with the womb.” 

“So not only are you asking for me to remove the heart of your companion, you also want both of us to relinquish vitae to you? All for the promise of a child born in a process of magic and insanity? Tell me, how in the multiple millennia that Kindred have existed and propagated that you are the one to be able to do this?” 

“Duskborn have been exceedingly rare until very recently in our history. Even fewer were able to survive long enough to understand their condition.” She gently squeezed Nythanel’s shoulder. “To put it in his own terms, my Nythanel is an elder Thinblood. He has not only survived, but thrived. We now understand so much more of our existence than we could ever have.” 

“What if this child comes out as an abomination? How can I know I’m getting what I’m paying for?” Harrakhty sat up and learned forward. 

Noa was thankful for the robe falling back over Harrakhty’s privates, and even more confident to have his undivided attention. “You’re a man of faith. I’m sure you understand there are not always guarantees for everything but I can guarantee I will try and try again until you get what you want. We have many more millennia to perfect the process.” Noa hoped it wouldn’t take that long but was more than willing to dedicate whatever it took to make it happen. 

“What do you think, my love?” Harrakhty asked Parvati out loud as they looked into each other’s eyes.

She drew closer to him, her breasts pressing against his shoulder. Her hand ran along his chest. She seemed ready to start practicing their part of the procedure. “I want our child.” She answered him in a quiet voice, kissing his neck. 

The robe once again covered little as she tugged at it. “You have your answer.” He said to Noa but his eyes were still locked onto his wife. 

Noa felt a rush of excitement. She gets her beloved Nythanel back, they will put the theories of their arts to practice. “When will you be able to remove his heart?” Noa asked. 

“Full moon. Give the briefcase to Arham.” Harrakhty replied before pressing his lips hard against Parvati’s. 

It was obvious it was time for her to go, although she couldn’t help but linger a moment as the pair of elder Kindred lashed out at each other lustfully. Noa couldn’t help but see hope in true Eternity with the one she loved with how even venerable kindred can keep alight a flame of romance. Noa took hold of the handles of Nythanel’s chair and started to push him toward the door. “I believe that is our cue to leave. Are you as excited as I am my love?” Noa practically cooed at Nythanel, giddy with the achievement of negotiating with Setites and the excitement of nights to come.

#vtm #vampire the masquerade #my writing #nyth #nythanel #noa #noa hidalgo #joaquin #joaquin hidalgo #julian #harrakhty #parvati #thinblood #giovanni #hecata #followers of set #ministry #world of darkness #duskborn #long post #art by crownedinmarigolds #the seed of the serpent

[crownedinmarigolds]

WIPs of our babies semi-in-between commissions. <3 Nyth and Noa!

#my art #vtm oc #vampire the masquerade #world of darkness #nyth #noa #nythanel loken #noa hidalgo #hecata #thinblood #duskborn #giovanni #wip #the drama... what are they up to

[crownedinmarigolds]

This has been in my drafts a while but I'll probably be VERY slow finishing it so I'll just post! It's snippets of the mini Nyth and Noa zine my love and I have been thinkin' about! Just a bunch of black and white and reddified bits of my art of them and some of his writeups!

#my art #fate entertwined #personal zine #art zine #nyth #noa #vtm #vampire the masquerade #vtm oc #vtm zine #vampires #thesixthplaneteer #thinblood #duskborn #hecata #giovanni #noa hidalgo #nythanel loken #my oc #world of darkness

[crownedinmarigolds]

(X) Noa having her girl dinner rudely interrupted. ❤️

#noa hidalgo #noa #vampire the masquerade #vtm #vtm oc #clan giovanni #giovanni #hecata #clan hecata #world of darkness #inspired by talks with daz and alex about moonrise and noa running around the woods - she never gets to do that! #my art #blood #i drew her dress so sloppy but i was just sketching aghhh maybe i will update later when im more awake #my daughter kidnapped me

[crownedinmarigolds]

POV: You're meeting Noa, necromancer prodigy and pride of the Hidalgo bloodline, and you're of average height She's just a lil guy!! <3

#hee hee she's five three and it's fun to think of the perspective of speaking with her....... #my art #noa #noa hidalgo #vampire the masquerade #vtm #vtm oc #giovanni #hecata

[crownedinmarigolds]

Joaquin threw down the pipe, ignoring the loud clatter as he ran his hand over his chin, attempting to wipe off the debris. Motherfucker. Motherfucker. This bastard almost killed her for good. Any warmth he'd held for Raymond during their time together was extinguished the second Ray made the decision to hurt his sister. He knew he loved her even as a Leech, and yet he had staked her heart, doused her in gas, nearly set her on fire. He betrayed their friendship. If Noa had been set on fire, Joaquin would've jumped right onto her pyre with her. But not tonight, she was safe now. They would both get to keep going. Raymond Mulder was dead, head caved in and spirit long chased away so he couldn't watch over them anymore. Quino turned his head, Noa was face-down in a puddle of red and black blood mixed with gas and meat, the smell overwhelming. He stepped over Nythanel's body to reach her, hurriedly kneeling down to turn her over to face the light. The stake still in her chest, her eyes wide from shock. She wasn't moving, paralyzed from the injury. But she was alive, at least in the vampire way she was. Relief flooded his veins, his shoulders shook from the joy. "Fucking Christ Noa. Oh Noa." His voice was about to crack. Her lips were so red. He leaned down and pressed his own against them, her skin so cold. He didn't care about the mess, he only cared about her. Sister. My love. He didn't give a shit about Ray now. He never gave a shit about Nythanel. It was them against the world. Finally. He thought as one hand cradled her head like he used to when they were small, the other going to fondle her breast, the stake wedging between his thumb and forefinger and stopping his explorations. Just the two of us. ~~ A lil Joaquin POV from my write up of the worst day of Noa Hidalgo's life.

The world's worst brother/vampire hunter for a moment thinks he's a hero! Ick! (Don't worry, he gets some divine punishment~)

#*covers it up* don't look #my art #joaquin #noa #joaquin hidalgo #noa hidalgo #giovanni #hecata #vampire the masquerade #vtm #vtm oc #hunters #sketches #world of darkness #incest mention #sorry yep they're siblings folks get it off your chest #my writing #eye strain #???? maybe it's pretty bright red #blood #not well drawn blood but heavily implied it's errywhere