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clansayeed · 4 years

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Bound by Destiny ― Chapter 11: The Many Discomforts

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny ⥽

Nadya Al Jamil (MC) has been struggling from the day she moved to Manhattan, but her new job as assistant to the mysterious CEO of Raines Corp was supposed to turn her luck around. Until she finds herself caught in the middle of a war involving the Council of Vampires who secretly run the city. An evil from the birth of Vampire-kind stirs beneath, feeding on the conflict, and finds Nadya bound to a destiny she never asked for.

Bound by Destiny and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Kamilah helps Nadya get dressed. A mysterious couple surprise the attendees of the Awakening Ball.

[READ IT ON AO3]

She doesn’t tell either of them about the voices she heard outside the Library.

Part of her isn’t entirely sure she even heard anything. She had more alcohol last night than in her entire undergrad career and there could have been something in the air or the food that could lead to hearing… weird voices… And if she does choose to cast aside her veil of doubt — what would she even say?

Especially remembering one of those voices sounded an awful lot like Kamilah.

Kamilah who spends the entire evening doing what Nadya’s pretty sure is the two-thousand year old equivalent of pouting because apparently Adrian ditched her last night for some fun of his own.

“Well we did want him to unwind a bit, I guess?” Nadya tries to be a good friend; tries to defend him.

But their petty little fight means she can’t pry from either one of them how Kamilah spent her night. Or who she spent her night with. So she’s having her own little huff.

“One moment he was off coaxing donors into our booth and he didn’t even have the decency to announce that he’d been propositioned,” Kamilah continues her argument like Nadya was nothing more than a gust of wind, “and such things simply aren’t done in polite society.”

“I had a good night.” She shrugs it off but catches the way Kamilah pauses mid-air before grabbing her hairbrush. Her tone suddenly catching disinterest.

“Did you now?”

“Yeah. Met a really sweet couple. They’re here with one’s sister. I’m gonna try and find them again tonight.”

“Good. Though I would advise you stay close to Adrian and myself for the majority of the evening.”

“Why?” Nadya peers into Kamilah’s designer makeup bag seriously. It’s pretty much a bag full of money, right?

She sets her brush down gently; gives Nadya a serious look despite her gentle tone. “Have you forgotten already? Somehow you’ve made enemies on the Council by merely existing.”

Right, Nadya nods in silence. The Baron and Senator Vega were guaranteed to be in attendance… but they wouldn’t jeopardize the Ball itself to settle some sort of score with her — would they?

There’s a knock on the door and Kamilah blurs to it before Nadya can even turn her head. She peers around the doorway to see her let in Adrian — bearing a large black garment bag.

“Sorry,” he greets them both with a smile, “I think I left my card here.”

“Did Priya actually come through?” Kamilah takes the bag from him with a tone of sarcastic surprise. Unzips the top to peer at the contents within with a satisfied smile.

Adrian nods. “She wasn’t happy about having to bring it here but I promised her a suitable trade.”

“That would be…?”

“Raines Corporation sponsorship at her next show.”

Feeling like she needs to announce her presence Nadya clears her throat. Earns a bright grin from Adrian and a raised eyebrow from Kamilah. Though there’s no denying the subtle smirk joining it.

Adrian passes Kamilah to pour himself a glass of whiskey. “Did you tell her yet?”

“And spoil the surprise? Never.” The way she looks at Adrian — like all of her frustrations have gone away, their importance weighed against the eternity going forwards and back and found wanting — makes Nadya question just who the surprise is for.

Another soft cough and she’s going to break her neck if she looks back and forth any quicker. “Someone gonna enlighten me?”

“Do you want to show her?” asks Adrian. Kamilah drapes the bag over the back of a chair and retreats into their room to continue her routine.

“Shooow me what?”

“Well we figured you didn’t have anything that fit the theme of the Ball in your wardrobe.” He explains and grabs the bag to hang it over the front of the armoire in Nadya’s room. Starts pulling down the zipper before she can even follow.

“I thought what I brought was okay! Kamilah — you told me it was okay!”

Nadya looks at the dress she’s laid out on the room’s second bed. Sure it’s the same dress from the event at the Gallery but that whole ‘never caught wearing the same thing twice’ thing was only a movie trope, right? And even if it wasn’t only Kamilah and Adrian would be able to call her out on it.

What? It was expensive. And she fully intends to get her money’s worth out of it.

Adrian worries his bottom lip with vestiges of guilt. “It’s a nice choice, yes. But as Kamilah and I were planning to adhere to the theme — we figured it was the least we could do.”

He peels the black panels apart and takes Nadya’s breath away. She’s never found blue that attractive but somehow the dress looks both like a cloudless summer day and sparkles with night-time stars. Little Nadya, the girl who wanted nothing more in life than to be a princess, squeals deep in her heart but the adult on the outside simply can’t find the words.

He pulls out the skirts to let their size show proudly. Brushes his fingertips along the satiny fabric of the bodice and even at a distance she can tell it’s buttery; utterly perfect.

“Well,” Adrian looks as excited as she feels, “what do you think?”

It takes her brain a second to catch hold of her tongue. “Wait, you said Priya? As in —”

“Don’t think about that. Don’t think about the money, or who made it, or any of that. Just tell me what you think — really think.”

With a lot of effort Nadya tamps down years of apology-laden refusals. Reaches down inside to let that little princess girl shine through.

She bounces on the balls of her bare feet.

“I think I need some glass slippers.”

“They’re not glass — trust me on this one — but Kamilah has you covered.”

Then her arms are thrown around his neck and she’s kissing the same stubbly spot on his cheek over and over; she’s pretty sure she might have gotten a little spit on her boss but who the heck cares?

“It’s beautiful.”

“You really think?”

“I really really think.”

Coaxing her away, Adrian grabs the door handle on his exit. “Then I’ll leave you to get ready. We’ll be heading down in a few hours.”

Taking in the beauty of the dress before her is almost enough to make Nadya forget about the voice in the library. Almost.

“Adrian?”

Maybe a normal person wouldn’t have caught her soft voice; would have kept going and ventured off to prepare without a care. But Adrian’s not normal. Maybe that’s what she’s hoping for deep down.

“Hm — you say something?” He peeks his head around the door; blinks with an innocence that makes Nadya’s heart sink into her stomach.

She can’t ruin his evening.

“I just wanted to… to really make sure you know how much I appreciate this.” Holding up a bit of the dress skirts, she gives him the widest smile she can muster without seeming fake. If he doesn’t believe her he doesn’t show it.

“You deserve it.”

In the time that follows Nadya really thinks about that — considers wildly that he might be right. After everything that’s happened so far this may be the one thing she needs to actually celebrate for herself. To celebrate something good happening to her.

It’s so easy to get swept up in the bad; the Baron, Lily, Vega, that the good things get harder and harder to cling on to.

So this — this she’s not letting go of.

Until she very much wants to throw this dumb dress down some sort of chute into an incinerator. Old fashioned places like these have those, right? I need to find one. Because god, putting it on is pretty much impossible! She’s tried shoving herself into it in various directions nearly five times and, standing in nothing but her underthings with the deepest and most hate-filled frown she can muster, debates her plan of action for the sixth.

There’s a noise of bemusement behind her and Nadya almost misses it — almost cares too much about her perfect mental image of taking her mother’s sewing shears and cutting the thing into ribbons with maniacal glee — almost.

Almost.

With no dignity whatsoever she turns on her heel, shouts something that sounds an awful lot like “Eeep,” and tries to cover herself against Kamilah’s eyes with the complimentary dressing gown from the bathroom.

What are you doing, this is a good thing! Says the part of her brain that stopped making good choices the moment she realized she had a crush. And though normally her rational side usually came up with a good excuse… it’s falling a bit short at the moment.

“Kamilah! Knock please!”

The look the vampire gives her of oh, really isn’t entirely unwarranted.

The last time she had a roommate she needed to knock for was back when she lived at home. Lily, knocking? What a laughable idea. And habits die hard… until they’re driven into you by a privacy-inclined Kamilah.

She saunters into the room like she owns it. Technically, she kinda does. Not like something that trivial would stop her anyway. Like a jaguar on the prowl she circles Nadya, makes her little human heart work harder than it has in her entire life, before she stops and takes stock of the dress and its components.

“Relax; it’s nothing I haven’t seen already.” Kamilah gently cuffs the sleeves of her own sheer gown — oh holy Mother Mary she needs to tie that belt tighter — and starts working on the lacing of the whalebone corset. “Am I correct in assuming you’ve never worn one of these before?”

With a negative level of grace Nadya pulls the backwards robe off, lets it fall to the plush carpeting.

“I mean, if Ren Faire counts?”

Kamilah’s nose twitches slightly. She’s gotten to know at least a few of the woman’s little ticks — the nose being one of them. Confusion but too much pride (or too little care) to want to know more.

“You know,” Nadya moves her hips like somehow that will explain everything for her, “the Renaissance Faire? Jousting and knights and giant turkey legs bigger than your head?”

“Sounds like they got the period wrong… unsurprising.”

“Oh, right.”

Kamilah pulls the last lacing aside and holds it up in both hands. Normally it would take Nadya a few seconds to understand what’s going on but since she’s pretty sure she’s had this dream before the usual brain-delay doesn’t apply. There’s been plenty of time to pinch herself awake tonight already. She’s very much awake.

Slowly Nadya turns her back towards Kamilah; awkwardly raises her arms out only because she doesn’t know what to do with them.

Like with all things Kamilah takes the lead; she’s not a woman who abides ignorance and simply educates along the way. The cool touch of her fingers sends gooseflesh racing down Nadya’s arms as she’s positioned—not unlike a mannequin—with her arms slightly above her head and just enough space for Kamilah to wrap the corset around her front and begin securing the laces in the back.

“You’ll feel a little —” she tugs and knocks the air from Nadya’s lungs, “— discomfort. Seeing as this is your first time.” There’s a breath of silence and Kamilah’s next words sound almost like appraisal: “Though you have the figure for it.”

Nadya fumbles for a response, manages a stuttered out “thank you” as the form-fitting fabric begins to press harder around her middle.

“This way. Move with me.”

Kamilah taps the back of her leg to coax her forward. Nadya, dazed and growing hotter by the moment, complies in a stupor. Suddenly finds herself with her hands braced against the ornamental wall with nothing but the solid presence of the vampire behind her.

“Good. Now hold that stance. Your fore-mothers were quite insistent that beauty come at a price.”

Her laugh comes out a breathless whimper; makes her go scarlet in embarrassment when she takes note of Kamilah’s brief hesitancy before continuing.

Each pull of the strings is painful pressure — shaping, twisting, mangling her — for the corset’s desired shape. Kamilah surprises her with patience joining her firm touch. Her strength only needs one good pull to get the job done but she gives Nadya time to find the width of her new breath before moving on.

Only Kamilah’s very presence isn’t helping her find her breath in the slightest.

Neither is the hand that suddenly falls onto her newly-shaped hip.

“Relax,” Kamilah croons in her ear, lets her thumb trace a soft and comforting circle just below the corset’s base, “the more you think about it the more your body resists.”

Another noise comes out a note higher and Nadya spits hair out of her mouth. “No offense but you never had to breathe in one of these things.”

There’s a genuine laugh behind her; melodious and gentle. Something Nadya’s never heard the equal of but longs for the moment it fades. Laugh like that again, she wants to say — doesn’t, let me remember it for the rest of my life.

“True enough. Now ready yourself; last one.”

The hand vanishes, leaves her skin feeling cold and alone. She braces her sweating palms against the wall once more and on the count of two Kamilah pulls one last time and secures the lacing.

Just as Nadya readies herself to figure out how to breathe on her own there’s a weight on her hips. Kamilah’s nails dig softly into the swell of her body. There’s definitely not enough oxygen going to her brain.

It’s the kind of quiet that rings in her ears. Makes her want to fill it with mindless chatter, the television on in the background, something. But Kamilah’s a fan of it — like the masochist she is. Says it’s good for emptying the well of her thoughts but Nadya just can’t come to terms with it.

Until now. Because if anyone were to say anything she’s pretty sure she’d throttle them.

Finally Kamilah speaks; something rich like caramel on her tongue that makes Nadya’s body react in ways she’s forgotten. Makes her thighs tremble like they’re straining to hold her up.

“Better now?”

When she breathes it’s easier; it’s been easier, became easier while she was frantically thinking up something to say or do to break the tension between them. And she didn’t even notice.

“Uh — Mmhm.”

The pressure of centuries lives on her hipbones — Nadya turns with the woman’s touch until they’re face-to-face. She knows it’s just so Kamilah can make sure her work has yielded success but it makes her want to fly away to whatever place in the clouds her reason has gone. It’s gotta be freakin’ nice up there.

Kamilah hums — taps her fingertip against her lips for a moment before she moves. Nadya closes her eyes like she’s bracing for some sort of apocalypse-level impact.

The sudden frigid touch releases a trapped noise from inside her. There’s absolutely no way Kamilah doesn’t know what she’s doing; doesn’t know the reactions she’s getting aren’t utterly shameful. Doesn’t know there’s no way in heaven, hell, or anything in between that cupping Nadya’s flushed breasts where they rest trapped within the corset to adjust them isn’t going to drive her absolutely insane.

Nadya squeezes her eyes shut. Bites on her bottom lip so hard it hurts, so hard there’s definitely going to be an indent for hours, and waits for Kamilah to be satisfied with her work.

“Much better. You can open your eyes now, Nadya.”

Only she wishes she hadn’t — finds herself staring in the depths of Kamilah’s soul filled with ice so cold it burns her from the inside out. She knows what she’s done, what she’s wrought. And when her tongue wets her bottom lip and sends Nadya keening into an octave she didn’t know she could reach she knows that, too, was as purposeful as everything else.

There’s a cinematic version of Nadya in her head that would absolutely throw every caution to the wind and surge forward in a kiss. That version would press Kamilah down onto the bed — maybe even on top of the dress — and release all their tension in a rush of tangled tongues and the sting of teeth colliding.

That version is much braver than the reality.

“All — ah — All good?” she chokes out.

Kamilah’s brows knit together. “Indeed. Is that all you have to say?”

She barely has the time to consider a response before her hands are trapped above her head in an immortal grip.

Kamilah bears down upon her; every inch the perfect predator. Just when Nadya’s certain her heart is actually trying to push it’s way out of her chest she sees a flicker of red in those dark, alluring eyes and finds herself caught between reality and whatever dream she’s had but forgotten that makes all this feel like deja-vu.

She’s got a lot more to say. She just doesn’t know how to say it.

And like with all things — she ruins it. Her hesitance isn’t something Kamilah wants, makes her back off a vampire-step back, crossing the room backwards and putting a world of wants and desires between them.

Way to go, says the Lily-voice in Nadya’s mind. It takes her longer to recover her breath against the strain of the corset.

Maybe it’s a trick of the light; the way Kamilah takes advantage of the space to look Nadya over bodily. And maybe it isn’t.

“I — I should, uhm…” Nadya runs clammy hands over her face and gestures to the dress as a sudden exhaustion fills her from head to toe, “but thank you for helping. Really.”

Kamilah says nothing. Nods curtly and leaves. And that’s how Nadya knows she’s going to have a very very long night.

With all guests — human and vampire alike — heading to the same place this time around Nadya gets a full dose of reality of the attendees and their numbers. It makes her keep close to Kamilah and Adrian as they descend towards the Grand Ballroom.

It’s harder to tell the difference between them; at least to her mortal senses. No doubt the vampires know one another by sight. But she takes in the splendor of costumes from every period and society she ever read about in school; smiles sheepishly as they pass what looks like a Japanese samurai in full regalia accosting a Renaissance painter.

Nadya briefly touches the bodice of her dress; rolls her shoulders to shift her body back into a comfortable place.

“Are you in discomfort?” Kamilah asks quietly beside her.

They’d all departed the room together; all shared a toast of some strong honey-tinted cognac beforehand. It was like the whole thing hadn’t happened to Kamilah — except for the fact that Nadya can’t seem to meet her eye to eye.

With a pursed smile on her flushed cheeks Nadya shakes her head. “No — well, no more than I already was. You… uhm…”

Great, really great. Of course she has to fumble again, has to not know what to say again. And honestly this time the twinge of disappointment she sees reflected in Kamilah’s eyes is one she shares. Dumb girl.

The crowd bottlenecks at a pair of large and lavish double doors. The music of a live orchestra dances on the air out into the hall over the conversational chatter. Maybe Nadya’s imagining it but the air carries the faint smell of lavender.

They file in behind the rest — Nadya cranes her head to see what’s holding them all up.

Two footmen stand against either side of the doorway with heavy-looking leather ledgers in their hands. They take down the name of the attendant in front of them before taking turns with announcing the guest’s arrival.

“Lady Genevieve, and guest!”

“Mansa Adebayo, and celebrated Olamide!”

“Monsieur Robespierre!”

With a startled gasp Nadya smacks Adrian’s arm. “That’s not… No way!”

Adrian quickly looks to Kamilah; whose face has been beset by a deep scowl.

“Indeed it is,” Adrian replies, “but he’s been banned from Marcel’s very presence up until, well, now.”

“He must have done something considerably generous to earn forgiveness.” muses Kamilah.

The footman calls out another name: “Celebrated Nicholas Hall!”

“What does that mean,” she asks them, “when they say ‘celebrated?’”

Adrian coaxes them all into the left branch of the line as he explains. “I told you the Awakening Ball is a celebration first, remember? It celebrates the newly Turned of the decade. It’s more of a bigger deal if you were Turned within a year or two of the party, but anyone new is welcome to come.”

“If they have the connections for an invitation.”

“Well… yes.”

She doesn’t have to say it — one look down and Adrian knows what she’s thinking. It makes him lean down and whisper in her ear.

“It would be too dangerous for her to be here. If anyone recognized her as a local we’d run the risk of exposing her Turning.”

“I know.” Nadya replies in the same monotone. Yes, she knows. And she’s come to terms with it. Doesn’t stop her from feeling, though; from missing Lily and knowing she’d enjoy something like this so-freakin’-much.

When the trio comes up to their footman Kamilah takes the lead. “You’re here on my invitation,” Adrian reminds her quietly. Whatever title Kamilah gives makes the announcer — human; somehow Nadya can just tell — go flushed as he tries to keep up with it all. She tries to peer close enough to see it but the block of fresh black ink is unreadable from their distance.

A nonplussed Kamilah turns herself towards the ballroom without thought to the way the footman trips over his tongue. Nadya almost feels bad for the guy.

“Ah — ahem… the Esteemed Kamilah Sayeed; Nomarch of Maten, Founder and CEO of Ahmanet Financial Holdings, Leader of Clan Sayeed of New York, and member of the Council of New York.”

Even without microphones the announcement carries. Makes the crowds closest to the doors stop in their tracks — some mid-word — all to turn and witness Kamilah’s entrance.

She walks with a different kind of grace than Nadya is used to seeing. Kamilah will probably always be the exact opposite of the dictionary definition of ‘humble’ but there’s a different kind of pride in the rise of her chin and a rigidity in her spine.

Like she’s a queen putting on airs for her subjects; like she knows exactly how to catch their attentions. Nadya’s, too.

Adrian’s cold hand on her bare shoulder-blade rouses her out of the hypnosis of Kamilah’s entry.

“Come on. We’re next.”

Suddenly the footman seems daunting. Who could follow an arrival like that?

“Name and title, ser,” the footman doesn’t even bother looking up from his ledger as Adrian slowly articulates his name and title — and follows with one for Nadya too.

“Just follow my lead.” Mutters Adrian, and together they take their position to enter.

The right footman announces his guest and the woman steps forward with her dress train trailing several feet behind her. Arm linked tightly against Adrian’s, Nadya holds her breath.

“Adrian Raines; Founder and CEO of the Raines Corporation, Leader of Clan Raines of New York, member of the Council of New York, and guest Mademoiselle Nadya Al Jamil of Clan Raines.”

Red does not go with the shade of blue her dress is but that doesn’t stop her from being a literal tomato as they make their way inside.

“Mademoiselle, really?”

Adrian gives her a half-grin. “It’s not every day you get to be announced. I figured that’s one down for the bucket list.”

“I’m too young for a bucket list.” She grumbles, and wants to snatch the words from the air and shove them back in her mouth until her cheeks are full but she can’t, not with a ton of eyes on her, so she just watches them fly away with regret.

They follow the current of guests mingling their way into the Ball. Kamilah’s already been plunged into the depths — Nadya has to pull Adrian by their linked arms when she spots her over by the place where the dance floor meets arrays of standing tables.

As they approach Adrian’s face lights up. “Oh, good, she’s found Marcel.”

At first glance it looks like Kamilah’s in deep conversation with someone’s lost child. A child who matches the ballroom and the decor of the workers far better than any other. Their fast-paced French dies once the pair are within earshot and the child — who is very much not a child when Nadya meets his eyes — beams in delight when he sees Adrian.

Marcel Lafayette, the owner of the castle and the Awakening Ball’s illustrious host, had to have been Turned on the cusp of puberty; that point where children are starting to grow into their abnormally sized proportions but still maintain those round cheeks and slightly too-big ears. But children—regular children—have a sparkle in their eyes. They haven’t lost their innocence, haven’t seen how hard and cruel the world can be when it wants to.

Marcel has no such light. It’s like looking into a void. And it makes Nadya want to cry.

“Adrian, mon coeur!” Adrian has to nudge Nadya away as he ends up with arms full of exuberant young vampire. Marcel presses a butterfly kiss to Adrian’s cheeks; protests with a slight whine as his perfect golden curls are ruffled in response. “Non! Not my hair! You know this took me hours!”

Kamilah scoffs but the fondness on her face is unlike any Nadya has ever seen.

“C’est faux, Marcel, and you know it.”

“Well…” His mischievous smirk falters as his eyes fall on Nadya — namely on her dress. Every imitation the young boy at a grown-up party, Marcel clasps his hands behind his back and steps up to her to give a low bow.

“Forgive me, mademoiselle, for not noticing you before. With beauty such as yours you must be some sort of princess, non?”

Before Nadya can make a fool of herself the young man takes her hand and kisses the back of it — eases her into their greeting.

“This is the mortal I was speaking of,” Kamilah offers, “Nadya; Adrian’s guest.”

“I’m his assistant-slash-secretary, actually.” She corrects with pink cheeks. “I’ve heard good things about you from Adrian and Kamilah, Marcel. Thank you for the invitation.”

“Oh, I like her.”

Adrian’s honestly never looked so proud. “I do, too.”

Beside her Kamilah gives a soft and derisive laugh. “You haven’t seen the sheer amount of sugary sweets she can put away.”

“A-Anyway!” Only she doesn’t have anything to interrupt the conversation with and Kamilah knows it in the look in her eyes.

Marcel takes both Adrian and Kamilah’s hands in his and squeezes them fondly. “It’s been so long since I’ve had two of my favorite people in the same room. Especially since someone chose not to attend the last Ball!”

Under his glare Adrian at least looks ashamed. “If it had been any other night I could have come! I sent Kamilah with my apology.”

“Oh, was that what I forgot to bring along?” Her fake embarrassment makes Adrian’s jaw drop. “How forgetful of me…”

“The past is the past — of course you are forgiven. Just don’t do it again.”

“I don’t plan on —”

As far back as they are it’s difficult to hear the footmen and their announcements over the other voices. That is until someone hits the mute button on the party save the orchestra — and even they falter in a brief confusion before steadying their harmony.

Nadya strains to hear; her mortal ears letting her down. But whatever is called — whoever has arrived — has her friends in a strange way.

Marcel’s fingertips touch his rouged lips. He pulls a lace-woven fan from his breast pocket and fans himself frantically.

“Quelle surprise… I didn’t think they’d really come. I had to send their invitations so far!”

It’s luck and maybe a little bit of cosmic intervention on Nadya’s behalf when she catches the sight of Kamilah’s expression before she can ask who ‘they’ are. Darkness — an empty well where only the echoes of the lost ring among the stones.

Who the hell just showed up?

Kamilah steps closer to her young friend; lowers her voice so much that Nadya almost misses it.

“Where did you find them?”

“A small village,” Marcel whispers back, “on the border of Auvernal and Cordonia.”

“And you chose to invite them because…?”

“Because they’re family, Kamilah. And I miss them so.”

The young lord seems to remember himself, then. Stops whispering and straightens his spine like he’s just been reprimanded by a nanny. For the second time Nadya watches with wonder as Marcel Lafayette shifts from elated lad to wizened man.

The still-silent crowd parts in a sea of wealth and finery as a couple approaches.

They fit in with the rest of the jumble of history’s wealthiest fashions, all it takes is a glance to know they aren’t wearing costumes but the real thing. Dark emerald woven tight and sheer against the woman’s lithe figure and etched with golden thread that looks like it was spun from sunlight. The fresh aroma of the man’s bay laurel; the almost staged way his toga and wrappings cascade in a waterfall of fabric down to his sandaled feet.

Together they are easily the most beautiful things in the room. And underneath the surface, even from afar, Nadya is certain they know it, too. It takes her a moment to realize what else she feels from them; she doesn’t really understand until they’re in the same frame of sight as Kamilah.

She looks dwarfed in comparison. Young.

Whoever these vampires are… they’re so old they make Kamilah look gentile.

Then Marcel’s bowing beside her, and Kamilah’s eyes are cast down in her curtsy. Makes Nadya hastily grip the edges of her dress and bend her knee in something that would embarrass any actual royalty. Oh crap, are they actual vampire royalty?

Only Adrian remains standing. Which is definitely unlike him. Has Nadya looking through the curtain of her hair to see the unabashed surprise in his slack jaw.

“Domine,” Kamilah addresses curtly; stares directly into the man’s eyes as though he’s just made a threat on her life.

Instead the man in the laurel wreath gives a deep bow to Marcel.

“Young Lord Lafayette. Isseya and I were surprised to receive your invitation, and wished to apologize in person for not securing our place. I hope we’re not intruding…”

Marcel’s curls bounce with the vigor with which he shakes his head. “Non, not at all! I’m glad the invitations got to you in time.”

The woman, Isseya, laughs with her eyes more than her lips.

“Thank you for sending one for each of us, darling boy. The gesture was a kind one, and they were decadent.” And Nadya remembers, then, the woman who brought their invite. Her stomach flips upside-down.

Nadya catches a strange noise beside her. Turns to see Adrian looking at Isseya and her companion with an expression she can’t put a word on. But she’s definitely never seen it before. It makes her lean in with a hand on his arm, ready to help how she can.

“Adrian —”

“Ah, so that is your name.” The man’s interruption makes Nadya jump — shivers running down her spine. There’s an almost erotic appraisal in his eyes as he and his companion both smile at Adrian.

“We were hoping to catch you again tonight,” and Nadya does not like the way Isseya’s words dissolve into a purr, not one bit, “Valdas —” she strokes the robed man’s arm with her fingertips, “— is not easily so impressed after a single encounter.”

Several times Adrian opens and closes his mouth in an attempt to speak. Eventually gives way to the silence when he realizes they would wait however long to hear his thoughts.

“I’m, ah, well that is to say…”

Valdas chuckles in bemusement. “Still speechless?”

“Give the poor thing a chance. You did keep him on the edge well until dawn.”

Adrian finally finds his voice — if strained. “When I agreed to join you two for… last night’s events, I wasn’t aware you were —”

“The Trinity?” Valdas supplies for him. Makes Adrian give a curt nod.

Kamilah, meanwhile, is fuming. “You spent La Soirée with the Trinity?”

“Don’t sound so pious, Kamilah. Your age surely hasn’t affected your memory so. I seem to recall…”

Isseya trails off when Valdas holds up his hand — but she doesn’t really need to say anything more. It’s all in her eyes. And Nadya’s struggle to keep up really doesn’t need the visuals.

Everything in Kamilah’s glare to Adrian screams ‘We’re not done.’

The tension is starting to make Nadya sweat and that’s the last thing she wants in a room full of people with enhanced noses. So she does the most Nadya thing she can and offers her hand out to the pair.

“Well since you all know each other I guess I’m the only one left,” she says cheerily; “I’m Nadya — Adrian’s assistant. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

She squeaks when Isseya brings her hand up to kiss the back. Feels the smolder in that immortal gaze that makes it harder to breathe than it already is. Her hand is traded off like a party favor. Valdas’ beard tickles his kiss.

“Yes… he mentioned having a mortal companion.”

“All good mentions — I hope?”

Valdas nods. “Adequate, indeed. I am Valdas of Persepolis. I present Isseya; High Priestess of Valdemaras.”

Something about the title makes Kamilah twitch — Nadya catches it out of the corner of her eye.

“Is that some Roman god they didn’t cover in the history books?”

Valdas’ eyes flash red.

“I assure you I was worshiped long before the Romans invented their feeble pantheon.”

If there’s ever a time to say “Well, this is awkward” it would be now — only she doesn’t because she prefers her head right where it is on her neck.

Luckily Marcel comes to the rescue. Pushes his way in the middle of the older vampires and grabs their hands — definitely the most uncomfortable family-style image Nadya’s ever seen — to drag them off in another direction. More guests to greet. More awkwardness to not have in their immediate vicinity.

The world narrows down like some sort of slow-motion film; Kamilah turning her heel with an entire scolding already on the tip of her tongue. Nadya looks around in a panic for something — anything — to not, and spots the most dangerous weapon of all approaching on a literal silver platter.

“Hold it!” She holds up a literal finger to pause them and makes a mad dash; returns to watch the vampires’ confusion quickly evolve into rightly-felt panic.

Kamilah looks between Nadya and her prize with pursed lips. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Giving you… uh…” should’ve thought this through better… “— a choice. I’m giving you — both of you — a choice.”

Adrian holds up his hands with caution. “Nadya, think about what you’re doing.”

“I don’t think. Come on, now. All my best ideas are complete erratic impulse.”

“I wouldn’t mark this down as one of your best.”

“What exactly is this… choice?” Kamilah asks.

Now filled with a confidence unlike any before, Nadya gives both of them a stern finger.

“Your choice is this: either you two table whatever is going on — or I eat this.”

She holds up the metal skewer in all its glory; slowly turns the handle so Kamilah and Adrian can see every gruesome detail of each of the five cubes of gourmet cheese impaled on it. She’s never been a fan of fancy cheeses; prefers her food to smell as good as it tastes which is very rarely the case with such things.

But she’s deadly serious and they know it. Especially when Adrian steps forward to take it and Nadya jerks away into the path of another server.

“Okay — okay. We’ll save it for later. I’d rather wait anyway.” He looks to Kamilah and feels his panic rise at her stubborn refusal. “Kamilah…”

“You’re going to let a mortal threaten you with something so trivial?”

He doesn’t even have to think it over. “Yes.”

Only when she looks between them and realizes their seriousness — and possibly loses a chunk of respect for both of them — does Kamilah relent.

“Fine,” with a flippant wave of her hand, “very well, whatever you must hear. But this will not go undiscussed, Adrian.”

Nadya lowers her dairy-carved threat. “Just don’t do it now. We’re gonna have a good-freakin’-time. Got it?”

Kamilah’s stuffy “Yes” and Adrian’s resigned “Okay” are enough for her. Who ever said lactose intolerance wasn’t useful?

#bloodbound #kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed #choices fanfiction #playchoices #bloodbound mc #mc: nadya al jamil #adrian raines #oc: isseya #oc: valdas

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vivianrhopper85 · 5 years

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Hello123

The popularity of plant-based diets has grown rapidly in Toronto and the city’s restaurant scene has quickly followed suit. Notable Toronto chef David Lee recently announced that he’s transforming his Nota Bene restaurant to a second location of Planta, an upscale plant-based eatery. And let’s not forget there’s a group of restaurant owners trying to rebrand an entire neighbourhood (Parkdale) as "Vegandale".

But on West Queen West, the latest plant-based eatery to emerge is Hello123. Its owners are also behind the downtown lunch chain Kupfert & Kim which has become popular with the lunchtime office crowd. Hello123 picks up where the Kupfert & Kim leaves off, serving a stylish lunch and brunch throughout the week that transitions into dinner in the evening. The restaurant’s quirky name is apparently derived from one of the internet’s most popular passwords. I like the lighthearted approachability of the name in a neighbourhood that tends to take itself too seriously.

Décor

Occupying a corner spot at Queen and Lisgar, Hello123 is blessed with plenty of natural light coming in from large windows along the south and west. Hanging plants and potted succulents give the interior a fresh feel while simple, modern light fixtures lend an air of contemporary style without feeling too formal. Open brick walls accent the back of the restaurant for a more intimate and cozy atmosphere that would suit a date-night meal. Less-is-more is the design mentality of Hello123.

There’s a patio outside for dining in warm weather and I’m told that all of the restaurant’s windows open up fully to bring the outside in. However, for my mid-autumn visit, a felt curtain had been installed around the front entrance to prevent drafts from entering the interior. I chose a spot near the front to bask in the natural light but still felt a lot of cool breezes even with the curtain in place. So opt for a spot further from the entrance if the drafts might bother you. Do note that three steps lead up to the front door and the bathrooms are located in the basement so this spot isn’t wheelchair accessible. The restaurant accommodates up to 40 guests.

Atmosphere

During lunch hour, Hello123 is the kind of place that anyone can rock up to and feel welcome. There was an eclectic mix of diners present, albeit skewing towards the hipster millennial demographic — friends catching up, businesswomen working solo with their laptop and a glass of wine at the bar and young families with babies. I fell into the latter category as my dining partner brought her one-year-old toddler who was well-accommodated by staff with a high chair and doting smiles.

Mellow tunes were playing throughout our meal at a comfortable level that didn’t intrude in our conversations. Pickup and delivery orders were at a minimum here, which, as sit-down guests, we appreciated since there was less foot traffic through the door.

Menu range

Hello123 serves lunch and brunch in the afternoon and dinner into the evening while cocktails, wine and beer are available throughout. There’s a fresh and healthy west coast vibe in the menu with tons of vegetables (naturally) and "superfoods" like chia and quinoa. There are also hints of worldly cuisines with dishes like the Korean-inspired spicy bap ($14) with kimchi and gojuchang, and the chana chaat bowl ($13.50). Clear symbols denote items containing tree nuts, gluten and soy but the kitchen isn’t able to guarantee contact with any.

We sampled the lunch and brunch menu during our afternoon visit which was divided up into five sections. For the health-conscious, smoothies ($7.50-$8.50) and bowls ($10) are an efficient way to get your day’s nutrients in with "enhancers" (sprouted protein, espresso and hemp seeds, for example) available to amp up your order. Apps and sides run the gamut from pulled pineapple sliders ($8) to watermelon ceviche ($9) and messy home fries ($8). Those seeking healthy mains will appreciate the salads and bowls section, each customizable with extra protein in the form of tempeh, chana or grilled tofu. A small "hands" section features a club sandwich, avocado burger and kimchi burger ($14-$15). But we were most excited about the brunch menu because we Torontonians love our brunch and it’s an even more indulgent treat on a weekday. The dinner menu switches things up with double the appetizers and fewer bowls.

Appetizers eaten

We initially selected "Three Dips, Two Chips" ($9) with smashed avocado, hummus and roasted eggplant accompanied by seedy oat crackers and tortilla chips but shortly after ordering we were informed that the kitchen had sold out. This turned out in our favour as we forgot about the soup special which was advertised on a board outside the restaurant but not on the menu. The soup was priced at $5.50 outside but we were charged $8 on our bill, which we didn’t notice until after leaving. It was the only item not listed on the menu, though, so we chalk it up (pun intended) to an error on the sandwich board which will hopefully be remedied soon.

The soup of the day was spinach, coconut and butternut squash. It was an incredibly satiating start to the meal (well worth its full $8 price) especially on the drizzly, blustery autumn day that we visited. The soup was thick and satisfying without being too rich. Its texture more closely resembled a puree than a cream-based soup. We tasted the coconut and butternut flavours more prominently, along with the welcome zing of ginger, over the spinach. Garnishes of pea sprouts, toasted coconut and coconut milk made for an aesthetically pleasing dish. The soup was served with a side of seedy sourdough bread. One bowl was plenty as a starter for two people and in a pinch, I could have easily eaten that on its own for lunch.

Main courses

Anyone seeking assistance in getting their four-to-six servings of vegetables a day should head straight for the salads and bowls section. My dining partner selected the cauliflower tahini bowl ($14) which was a colourful and inviting array of grated veggies and greens atop a bed of quinoa. I felt like the dish was lacking in body and flavour and I’d feel unsatisfied if I were to have eaten that solely as my main. From what I could tell, the only cooked vegetable in the dish was the roasted cauliflower and I think the bowl could have benefitted from a few more cooked veggies, perhaps some roasted sweet potato or steamed broccoli.

It was a good thing, then, that we had Irene’s Massive Breakfast ($17) to make up for what the cauliflower tahini bowl lacked. This plate was heaped full of deliciousness and the star was most definitely an omelette made with chickpea flour. It was my first time trying a vegan omelette and I was impressed with the results. The sear marks on the exterior of the omelette were convincing and the texture and taste were excellent. Two tempeh sticks served as the "sausages" of the meal and did not disappoint. There was a flavourful spice rub on the exterior which was a bit on the salty side (much like their sausages equivalents in a traditional breakfast) and the tempeh itself was moist and tasty compared to other varieties we’ve tried. The pancakes come with a small jar of syrup to add your own level of sweetness and we liked its somewhat gummy, mochi-like texture. The potatoes were a bit of a flop: dry and bland (they could have definitely benefited from some of that tempeh spice rub) and the greens were underdressed. But overall we’d happily return for Irene’s Massive Breakfast when our appetites come calling.

Desserts eaten

The dessert menu is small but mighty with only three options: a chocolate avocado mousse ($7.50), berry cheesecake or mocha cheesecake ($8 each). We went for the last option and, as someone with a raging sweet tooth, this dessert hit the spot. It was rich and sweet but not cloyingly so, allowing the flavours of nut and chocolate to take centre stage. Each bite had a melt-in-your-mouth quality that was gratifying. Three layers: chocolate, a nut-based cream and crust, gave the cake visual appeal. The strawberry slices on top were lacking a bit of life and looked to be preserved in a sauce. While the berry flavours add a nice contrast to the rich chocolate, I’d rather see the slices cooked down into a jam or blended into a sauce.

Drink options

There were definitely a few glasses of wine accompanying some customers during our lunch but we opted for a caffeinated beverage instead. My dining partner ordered an almond milk latte ($4.50) and she said was much smoother than the Starbucks equivalents she regularly has, which tend to get a little gritty near the bottom. Teas come from Pluck and there are also "superfood"-style beverages like a goji latte ($5.50) and a tea tonic with lemon, mint, ginger, turmeric and cinnamon ($4.50).

Alcoholic beverage options lean heavily towards local producers like beer from Beau’s, Blood Brothers and Burdock and wine from Niagara’s Southbrook and Hidden Bench along with selections from Italy, Spain, France and California. The cocktail is light, fresh and fruity. We we’re most intrigued by the kombucha thyme ($12) that pairs lemongrass and ginger kombucha with tequila and amaro, as well as the bourbon sour ($13) that uses aqua faba (water soaked in chickpeas) to create a frothy texture in place of egg whites.

Service

The restaurant was half-full when we arrived at 12:15pm on a Tuesday afternoon. We were seated promptly and the server was happy to accommodate our request for a table near the front windows. As the restaurant progressively got busier over the 90 minutes we dined, almost reaching capacity by the time we left, we did have to flag a staff member down a few times to order dessert and grab our bills, which was understandable. The only flub was that I had actually ordered a tea with my meal but it never came. Since our appetizer arrived so quickly I didn’t bother to put my tea order in again. Otherwise, service was polite and friendly without being intrusive or neglectful. Empty plates were taken away quickly and one staff member even picked up the toddler’s water bottle after it fell.

Feeling afterwards

While neither of us follow a plant-based lifestyle, we were both impressed by our meals and how satiating and flavourful it was from start to finish, especially the brunch option for a cuisine that’s very meat and egg-centric. While there are a fair number of casual takeout or lunchtime food court spots for vegetarians and vegans, the number of nicer sit-down options for a nice meal out are slimmer so we’re happy to see Hello123 enter the mix.

AY00KV

from News And Tip About Real Estate https://jamiesarner.com/toronto-restaurant-reviews/hello123/

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