Blood and Whiskey [Blackmoore Family]

It only takes a moment for the tension in the room to build, build into something that seems to weigh down around me like a thick blanket of smoke. One sentence, a few words from a silly girls mouth was all it took to send the almost peaceful vibe in the kitchen into a raging storm. I take a step back from Summer as Morana waltz’s over and mumbles a few words about me being too tough on the girl. I peel my eyes away from the ‘young girl’ and glue them to Morana instead. I knew she feared me, most of my family did- I was known for being rough, and sometimes too rough. But that was life. A scowl slips on to my thin lips as I stare at her- her and the glass of alcohol in her hands. It made something stir deep within me to see her drinking this early on the morning.

My eyebrows knitted into a frown and I stride up to her, my hand snaking out and snatching the half drunken glass from her hands. “How many times to I have to tell you?! You are not a child anymore. You say for me to cut her some slack- okay fine. But what about you? You aren’t young any more, but you still insist on drinking this poison, this liquid that will rot you away. No more. And don’t you ever let me see you drinking it at this time of the morning- ever again.” I hiss, my head moving so that it was only inches from hers, my eyes blazing with heated fire. It frustrated me. She knew that she wasn’t allowed, she knew that it would send me into a frenzy but yet she continued, as though she wanted me to let my anger rain down onto her.

I stare at her for a moment longer, my gaze staring intently into hers. When I pull away I tip the liquid into the drain- slowly, making sure that she knew that I would take no more of it. Then- once the glass was empty- I wandered over to where her stock hid and snagged the bottles out with little effort before dumping them into the bin, where I heard the bottles crack and smash into a million little pieces, the liquid leaking from the bottles, watering the litter of rubbish which was rotting in the depths of the bin. I don’t look back move at her, I just walk back over to Summer just as Sid moves towards her, his voice radiating with delight. Summer was the youngest, and it wasn’t that I felt the need to protect her- because I didn’t, she was just as low as the rest of them… but there was just something about her- maybe it was the fact that she didn’t desire the urge to feed off the human flesh that made me tolerate her more than the rest.

And then Camille walks in, a knife flying from her hand and into the soft wood of the wall. Anger floods through me like a crashing wave and I turn my fierce gaze to her. She slouches into a chair and I feel tempted to slap her across the face, to feel my hand hit her flesh with a power that would send her flying from her seat. But with a steady breath I try to force the feeling away. There was no need for violence. Yet. So instead of confronting the moody girl I just turn my back on her. Sometimes I didn’t understand humans, they- we- were a complex puzzle, one that didn’t desire to be solved, if you asked me.

And Olivia- she was defiantly a creature I didn’t understand- was she even human? I didn’t know. The way she acted, the way she moved, the way she ate the way she slept, it all seemed to resemble something animalistic and it disgusted me. She was an animal, one that did not deserve to have a place in this house, in my home. But I couldn’t kick her out, I couldn’t end her life, carve out her nails or rip out her teeth. Mother had wanted her. Mother had brought her here- and no matter how much I hated the thought of the creature living under my roof, it had been mother’s choice, and for that, I would respect it.

She seems to mirror Sid as they wander over to us, her body tensed as though she thought she might be able to take me on. I scowl at the girl- animal- my mouth curving up in disgust. “What you looking at dog?” I spit at her just as a raging ball of anger fills the room. Logan struts ver to us, his strides stiff with raging anger and I could feel my own anger taking over. His face was red, words flying from his mouth like bullets, striking home into the person who he aimed at. Summer. Watched as Logan spat words of hate towards her, I watched as a threat slipped pass the guard of his lips. ”I’ll end your life.” That was all it took. That was all it took for me to break.

A challenge.

I don’t even pat attention as summer strikes a knife to his throat- not quite letting the blade break his skin. I don’t see him as he walks back to the couch. I don’t see anything but the hatred that fills me. How dare he! How dare he threaten to end the life of one of the Blackmores- he had no right, no right what so ever, only I had that right, only I could decide that. I was the boss, he knew that, or did he? I forget everything else as I move over to him, my strides fluent and fast- determined and deliberate. “What did you just say?” I growl at him, my hands closing around the collar of his shirt. “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?” I scream as I pull his off the couch and throw him to the ground. I watch as he hits the ground shoulder first, but I don’t wait for him to gather himself, I crouch down next to him, so that I could look over him.

Then I pull my arm back and let it fly at his face, striking him right where the cartilage of his nose connects to the rest of his face. A jolt flies through my arm as my fist connects with his face, the slight burn of pain rushing though my fingers. But I brush the pain off, my eyes blazing as I pull my arm back and let it collide with his face. Again. Again. Again. And again. Blood cakes his face- fresh and bright red, but I don’t feel sorry for him. No.

Then I lean down close to him, my hand that was not covered in his blood gripping his face tightly. “How dare you- how dare you threaten to kill one of our own. What makes you think you get that choice- huh?” I ask, my hand clenching tighter has I shake him violently. “WHAT MAKES YOU THINK THAT THAT IS YOUR CHOICE?” I scream at him, my eyes growing into a blazing fire. “BECAUSE IT IS NOT- YOU DINT GET THAT CHOICE. YOU ARE NOTHING. YOU ARE JUST A SCRAP O SKIN, ONE THAT DESERVES TO ROT AWAY INTO NOTHING. Do you think you deserve to walk around with the name “Blackmore”- cause I not sure you do.” But then I lean closer, so that our noses almost touch, so that the next words that dribble from my lips are between the two of us- an no one else.

“Just remember- I can end you. I can kick you out of this house, let the streets have their way with you. As long as you live under this roof- you do what I say- clear?” I whisper, my voice as deadly as a striking snake.




{ooc: everything that Aragorn does to Logan has been approved by cato}