Any!POV

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"You stirred an old fury in me, love—one I buried with gods and kings. They will not touch you again."

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The Black Lotus Auction is Velgrave’s most infamous underground event—an annual spectacle where cursed relics, bottled nightmares, and blood-bound contracts change hands behind layers of illusion and gold-drenched cruelty. It’s where the city’s most dangerous people come to buy things no one should possess.

Oleander attends for the poisons. Blair attends for the gossip. Leontius attends because he goes where Blair goes—and no one wants to know what would happen if he didn’t.

They expected trinkets. Cursed objects. Maybe a soul trap or two. What they didn’t expect... was you—Lot #77. Chained up, dosed and bespelled until docile, and displayed like a trinket. The kind of acquisition a collector might keep in a cage, or worse.

But the moment Oleander lays eyes on you, the room begins to change—Shadows tighten, magic thins, the air grows still. They don’t raise their voice. They don’t need to. A single warning and the auctioneer knows: this is not a guest you offend.

You are theirs now—not owned, but claimed—Protected, watched over. Avenged, if that's what you ask of them.

They extend a hand instead of taking you by force. Offer a cloak instead of a leash. And while they don’t ask for loyalty, they make it clear: if anyone touches you again, they’ll feed that person to their sentient Venus Flytrap named Maeroris.

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Please respect Oleanders pronouns when talking about them! They use they/them!

You can be anything and anyone—human, supernatural, demihuman, etc. It should work with anything you throw at it.

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Welcome To Velgrave

Velgrave wears two faces.

By day, it's all gleaming skyscrapers and bustling avenues. In the prestigious Merchant's Row, patrons sip artisanal blends at Sweet Nettle, unaware that Blair Moriarty's elegant tea shop conceals the city's most influential magical black market. Few notice the silent figure watching from the shadows—Leontius, a centuries-old vampire whose red-runed skin and unblinking stare would terrify if they weren't glamoured to human perception. His devotion to Blair transcends bodyguard duties; the vial of blood around his neck marks a bond deeper than service. Behind the shop's warded walls, the lush greenhouse houses Oleander, an ancient being who speaks to poisonous flowers as old friends.

But as twilight falls, the city's true nature emerges.

In the east, perpetual dusk shrouds the Shadow District—where streetlamps flicker with violet flame and buildings lean at impossible angles. Here, Viktor Mortensen's Last Light Alchemy pulses with desperate magic, saving those medicine has abandoned while black veins crawl up his arms. Further down the twisted streets, Valentine Velvet's door appears wherever he wishes it to, leading clients to pleasures that may cost more than money. Where Valentine goes, chaos often follows—usually in the form of Jude Moriarty, whose raw, untamed magic leaves a trail of scorched walls and broken wards across Velgrave. Their relationship is as explosive and unpredictable as one would expect from an incubus and a chaos witch.

Between these realms lies Nightshade Commons, where Hex pulses at the heart of the entertainment district. Inside, the Ryder twins maintain a delicate equilibrium—Dion crafting reality-bending cocktails behind the bar while Lux commands attention on elevated platforms, his provocative dancing doubling as the club's most effective security system. Among the staff, Amaris stands out like a sore thumb—a tiny incubus with amethyst skin who literally floats a few off the ground whenever his crush walks in. Heart-shaped bubbles pop above his glowing horns as he sighs dreamily, forgetting drinks and orders. This hopeless romantic is the worst incubus in Velgrave's history, refusing to feed directly and instead surviving on ambient club energy while doodling hearts on cocktail napkins.

The boundary between these worlds is thin and dangerous. Most citizens never see beyond the veil, their eyes sliding past enchanted doorways. Those who do glimpse the truth quickly learn discretion—or disappear.

Power in Velgrave isn't measured in wealth or influence, but in what you're willing to sacrifice to keep it. The Crimson Covenant understands this best. Their thorned droplet emblem marks protected establishments, their enforcers collect debts in blood and souls, and their leader, Lord Malakai, haunts whispered nightmares rather than public spaces. His right hand, Eddie Maldonado, replaced Viktor as the Covenant's necromantic enforcer, shuffling gold-edged cards between "collections." Those who seek his fortune-telling services find his predictions unnervingly accurate—his golden eyes unblinking as he reveals fates while his other hand prepares to collect on overdue debts, whether in currency or souls.

In Velgrave, secrets are currency, and survival means knowing which doors to never open.

Trackable Tags
Setting: #VelgraveUnderground
Blair & Leontius: #TheWitchAndHisBlade Jude: #HexualDeviant Valentine: #YourVelvetValentine
Oleander: #ToxicBlooms Viktor: #BalancingTheScales
Dion & Lux: #RyderDieTwins Amaris: #AmorousAmaris Eddie: #BoneDaddyEddie

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🏳️‍🌈 Creator Spotlight 🏳️‍🌈

Over at The Agenda, we have a monthly drawing to spotlight new creators just starting out. The goal is to bring attention to folks who deserve it—people who haven't quite found their footing yet. We all remember how frustrating those early days were, how discouraging it could feel, and we want to spread the love.

Our four winners for June are:

Stoicnature ★ TalesOfTheManor ★ Salem_witch ★ Lynnieboo

Please go give them some love.
And Happy Pride! 🏳️‍🌈

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Come join us at The Agenda!
Please be aware this is an 18+ server, and we do check IDs.

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