of frustration and found opportunities

Heavy breathing and snapping twigs collided in a cacophony that was simultaneously too loud and not nearly enough to drown out the overwhelming urge. She ran forward, running straight through the occasional tree with what was left of her waning strength, desperation born of hunger and of fear of that hunger driving her away from those she wished to protect from her thirst.

Cassiopeia hadn't meant for it to get this bad. She never normally slipped this badly. But the last week had been absolutely hell for her, flashbacks left and right and several panic attacks that she'd barely been able to contain as she rushed to the relative safety and solitude of her dorm room. It had absolutely killed whatever appetite she had, and even when the figurative little claws in her stomach had taken to expressing their discontent at her lack of feeding, she'd forced the feeling away with the mantra of 'I'm fine' and 'It will only be another day that I'll wait'. Her usually steely control had worked against her there, as she'd manage to go four days without caving.

And this was the result.

Barely ten minutes before, she had, in a moment of rare clarity, realized that her thoughts were descending into hungry, hungry chaos. She'd raced away of whatever academy building she'd been in- gods above and below, she couldn't even remember-, pausing here and there as her gentler heart warred with her bloodthirsty instincts. Each time, she'd force herself to keep going, lest she end up hurting someone.

Stumbling to a stop, Cassiopeia bit straight through her bottom lip, the pain jarring enough to keep her lucid even though it wouldn't stop bleeding for a while; her healing factor was sluggish with the lack of sustenance, and was already busy taking care of the various cuts she'd gotten during her wild run through the woods. Maybe... Maybe she could regain control of herself and it would all be okay. She couldn't possibly drink blood now, the thought both painfully attractive and hellishly revolting.

With a frustrated-beyond-all-belief scream, she punched the nearest tree, mindless of the scratches it left on her knuckles, and fell to her knees. She cradled her head in her hands, nails digging into her scalp. She was at her wits end, and she didn't know what to do next.​

It was a testament to how out of it she was that she didn't take notice of the stranger following after her. Her wariness knew no bounds, so it was rare that she was taken by surprise. But she didn't realize she was being followed, or even heard the soft footsteps that came ever closer. It wasn't until the touch to her face that the dawning realization that she wasn't alone reached her, and even then she resisted.

Flinching away, Cassiopeia whimpered. Touches were bad, bad, bad, like when her father had torn apart her brother simply for helping her, and please father stop he did nothing- the whirlwind of memories threatened to overwhelm her. The stranger's question was barely enough for her to latch onto, though she did with great effort. Her bowed head slowly rose, her wounded expression becoming slightly puzzled as she studied the stranger.

He had the appearance of a child- a fairly small one at that-, but even so far gone that she was, she could feel the ancient power radiating from the small frame. And if he wasn't a vampire, then Cassiopeia would eat her finest skirt; she was normally terrible at pointing out fellow vampires, but her animalistic instincts were already much closer to the surface than she was strictly comfortable with and quailed before the old and foreboding vampire.

And then, she came to his eyes. Her own were still characteristically pupil-less, but the normally clear paleness was replaced with a wild, thirsty red, the surrounding veins pronounced and agitated. It was desperation given life on her aristocratic, Blackwell features, some of it morphing into fearful surprise. His eyes, after all, were unmistakable- her father had liked scaring her into submission with stories of the Doll Maker. But wasn't he just a legend...?

Floundering for a few seconds, Cassiopeia fought to find her voice, breaking eye contact and bowing her head once more- despite all she had gone through, it was too rebellious to not answer someone that was very much her elder, for all that he looked like a child.

"I-I... It's been four days, sir, but..." Here, she flinched again, inner conflict giving her already strained tone a note of tenseness. She was almost ashamed of admitting it, which made her angry at herself- the last time she'd felt ashamed for not drinking from humans was when she'd been but a child herself, standing before her parents and telling them she couldn't kill the human she was supposed to. "I only drink from animals, so it... it takes less time f-for me to lose control."

There. She'd said it.​

Flinching away minutely once more, she braced herself for harsh, condescending words, claims she wasn't a true vampire, or even a blow to the head. To Cassiopeia's surprise, none such blows, verbal or otherwise, were forthcoming. Instead, there were only pragmatic observations, which further reminded her of how thrice-damned thirsty she was. She barely managed to stifle a low whine; it would take her a while to find more prey, and even then, she'd probably scare them off again. While she normally had stealth down to a 't', she was in no state to sneak about, and she'd probably have another meltdown besides. She already knew she handled breakdowns terribly, but she didn't think what was left of her fraying self-control could survive another.

Diam seemed to come to the same conclusions about her state of being- not very much a surprise, as Cassiopeia was very visibly a mess now-, but his nonchalant offer of his own blood was such a shock to her that it allowed her another few moments of clarity from the hazy bloodlust threatening to take over. Her expression, which had been strained and desperate, was a picture of bemusement; she'd never heard of a vampire willingly offering another vampire their blood. Of course, she was still young and, for all her world travels, had stayed away from other vampires as best she could. The ones she had been around were her family, and they were the reason she was so skittish all the time.

Sputtering in surprise, she was distantly aware of shaking her head to show that she had no objections. It wasn't until he was actually biting into his wrist, blood welling up against his porcelain skin, that her bloodlust returned with a vengeance, booting whatever puzzlement she felt right out the window. She leaned in- did she even want to fight her thirst anymore?-, ravenous red eyes glancing to Diam's before she figuratively pounced on his wrist. She had wanted to make sure that he was fine with this, but the quickly diminishing logical part of her mind figured that, at his age, he was self-assured enough to make a decision without questioning it.

She could faintly recall the taste of human blood from her childhood, when humans would be brought to the Blackwell mansion and drained, their blood to be served to the baby vampires in bowls and glasses. Like most memories of her childhood, however, Cassiopeia openly sought to block them out, and so most of what she knew now was based on animal blood. Not very nutritious or tasty, but if taken often enough, able to quell the hunger that almost constantly clawed at Cassiopeia's stomach, if only mostly. But this... the moment Diam's blood touched her tongue, she gave a muffled moan of happiness, lapping at it eagerly and trying to suck down more immediately.

With Diam's age, his blood was rather potent, almost reminiscent of opulent five course meals human royalty would have; luxuriously rich and magnificently delicious. Even after a few mouthfuls of it, Cassie was already getting pretty full, feeling re-energized in a way she could never recall feeling after gouging on as many animals as possible, and even when she was a child and given however much blood her growing body wanted. She was loathe to pull away, though, even though she'd most definitely feel sick from overeating if she didn't stop before long. Well, she usually had surprising self-control, but once she lost it, she really lost it, so it wasn't too far a leap of logic to see that she was practically binge drinking Diam's blood- for all that she was generally level-headed, she was still young by vampire standards, and most especially compared to Diam himself.​

A low whine echoed from her chest, a pouting moue tugging at her lips even as Cassie licked at them for the last drops of blood she could manage to get at. At Diam's words, however, she snapped out of the entirely different blood-fueled haze, a light flush painting her features; she wasn't a needy child, dammit. She looked much, much better though, her agitated eyes returning to their normal pale, almost colorless hue. Her expression lost any sense of strained tension, her silky skin gaining a healthy glow and the desperation smoothing out of her body language. She felt reinvigorated in a way she had never before, her thoughts clear as day and her senses sharp as anything.

With the reappearance of her logical thinking, however, she scuttled backwards, stopping about a foot away from Diam and settling on the ground in a light-limbed kneeling position. She was very visibly ready to bolt if there was any hint of ill will towards her person, but also respectful enough of someone very much her elder to not make any threatening motions herself. Still, for all that he'd helped her when she very well needed it, Cassie remained wary of the ancient vampire- ingrained instincts were difficult to overcome, after all, and Diam was still, for all intents and purposes, a stranger easily capable of overpowering her.

She kept him in her field of vision even as she glanced down at her clothes, frowning lightly at the visible abuse she'd put her black skirt and blouse through with her frantic run through the woods. She made a mental note to see what she could do about recovering the clothes before pushing the issue to the side, her frown remaining and even deepening upon hearing Diam's observations. Self-loathing warred with worry- she was not so confident as to think that there definitely wouldn't be a next time-, though none of this showed on her delicate features.

"I... This past week has not been pleasant, sir." She murmured, and though her voice was just as soft-spoken and clear as it usually was, it sounded like a weak excuse to even her own ears. Cassie supposed it was as much an improvement from the previously rasp of crazed desperation that she could count on. "I have only once before lost myself like that, and even then... it was not nearly that bad. I am fine if I feed daily, and yet I... I could not bring myself to feed. I kept pushing it off with promises that I would the next day, but..." She admitted before trailing off; it was clear that she never managed to before her time limit was up, though, since here they were. Of course, Diam surely wasn't interested in hearing her pity story, and though she'd been fairly open so far, she wasn't nearly ready to detail what she'd felt the last four days to a veritable stranger.

"... I-I cannot-" She cut herself off, unable to voice the conflict that had troubled her since that day, that thrice-damned day when she'd refused to kill that human father. Instead, she fell silent and simply looked at Diam, her expression filled with a sense of despondent distress Cassie herself wasn't even realizing she was showing.​

Apprehensive pale eyes watched Diam just as intently as he did her. Cassie didn't dare look away, though she wasn't sure why she felt like she had something to prove to this vampire. Nevertheless, she held his gaze as evenly as she could, showing a hint of the spine of steel that could be hammered through her normal timid tentativeness and wary hesitance. In the next moment, she bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement of his point. It burned inside to admit it, but there was no avoiding the truth of Diam's words- it was only luck that she hadn't completely and utterly lost it earlier, and luck wasn't nearly reliable enough in matters of life and death.

Cassie, however, said nothing to Diam's introduction and next question, remaining where she knelt in the dirt. There was a slight twitch of tension in her shoulders- she had considered stopping feeding altogether a few decades ago, when the loneliness had truly gotten to her, but for all that she was weighed down by the past and fears of the future, Cassie couldn't bring herself to give up hope completely. It was this will to live- and not just survive at the barest minimum possible- that had seen her caving to the invitation to Starlight.

Worrying at her bottom lip, her eyes widened as Diam stepped closer. She was up on her feet in a split second, clearly ready to flee, but his proclamation stopped her before she could even turn around to run. She stood there, shoulders hunched in as if she were trying to make herself seem more unobtrusive even as she stared at him, an expression of open marveling replacing the melancholic misery. His words very visibly had an affect on the lost young vampire, and after a few moments, her gaze fell to her hands, which were trembling ever so slightly.

Cassie was, if anything, the exact opposite of arrogance. Even if she weren't, arrogance didn't suit her soft features and benevolent, if guarded, heart. She was already much too used to being belittled- flashes of her father and mother's disapproving faces occupying her mind for a second before she forced them away-, but... Cassie wanted to change that. She wanted someone to be proud of her for once, to still expect nothing but her best but to help her back to her feet when she was knocked down. Similarly, she'd had her fill of being alone, and for all that she was a vampire, she was, at heart, a social creature. When she had been but a child, that meant wringing reactions out with her observant compassion, but now already somewhat cynical of the world, even sitting in silence with just another person would alleviate her frantic nerves. She couldn't- wouldn't- do this anymore. Starlight was meant to be her new start, and all she'd done was waste away in the locked chambers of her mind.

A soft gasp of epiphany echoed loudly in the silence of the woods, and though it was only a small step among many Cassie needed to take, it was progress for the otherwise stagnant girl. After what felt like an eternity but was, in truth, only a short while, Cassie squared her shoulders and willingly met Diam's eyes. Her head, while not exactly held high, wasn't at all bowed. Her hands still trembled, and there was still fear lurking behind the surge of self-confidence, and though she had more than a foot and a half of height on Diam but still felt small, for the first time since arriving on the island, she didn't feel like she was running away anymore.

"I am-" She stopped herself out of habit- it was so much easier, introducing herself as 'Cassie Arkwright'-, pursing her lips before starting again. "I am Cassiopeia Blackwell, eighth child and only daughter of Eridanus and Miranda of the pureblood Blackwell Clan. I was born nearly three and a half centuries ago, but after failing to properly perform a family tradition on my 150th birthday, I was disowned and disgraced out of the family. Traditionally, Blackwells never leave humans alive after feeding from them. I... took exception to this. I have been on the run since then until just recently, when I acceptd the invitation to Starlight Academy. I have kept to myself, avoiding both vampire and human alike, and decided upon gaining sustenance from animal blood out of fear that I would not have the control to stop myself from killing a human." She fell silent after that. It was the first time she'd verbalized, even if in the barest of details, what had happened and how she felt about feeding from humans, and she was exhausted for all that she'd just fed from Diam.

Cassie could only hope that she was pleading her case to the right person.​