Introduction
Nestled half an hour outside of Pittsburgh is the once-sleepy town of Bellingstone, Pennsylvania. Its small-town aura, mixed with its proximity to the city, makes it a charming, suburban paradise. Time has caught up with the town, adding a new hustle-and-bustle to everyday life, but it has retained a peaceful air about it - one that the residents have spent decades trying to cultivate.
You see, Bellingstone was product of an unlikely friendship in the early 1800s - Felix Wolff and Ivan Moreau. The two immigrants struck up a close friendship in New York over their shared characteristics in a country that was no more welcoming to their kind than their previous homes. Felix came from a long line of German werewolves, whereas Ivan had lived for centuries as a vampire. Looking to found a community for their kinds to be safe from the threat of humans, they ventured West and bought up land in the mountains.
With the assistance of werewolves and vampires alike, the town seemed to appear almost overnight. By winter 1818, Bellingstone had become a fully-functioning town that was, more or less, completely concealed from the rest of the world. By word of mouth alone, supernatural beings heard of the community and ventured out to find it, allowing the town to flourish. By the time the Civil War had come and gone, a few hundred residents populated Bellingstone. All was peaceful until after World War II.
The Interstate Highway System was developed for the purpose of making life easier for those living in Pennsylvania, but for the residents of Bellingstone, it added a new concern - hiding from the humans who passed through the town for a quick bite or a refuel. Eventually, though, the same people returned until a small human population found root in Bellingstone. The town completely changed, having become a must-see tourist stop, and it just about lost its small town vibe as the population of humans within the town grew to equal and then overwhelm the population of supernaturals.
And so, our story begins in the year of 2017 on a quiet, Saturday morning in mid-autumn. One final warm day, a day for book club gossip among the vampires, afternoon dips in the lake for the mermaids, and whatever it is humans do on such a day. The charming facade of the town may fool some, but there has been tension brewing for decades now. The sudden death of the previous mayor has unnerved most, and the upcoming election, and its surprise candidate, has many alarmed.
those wolves that live within the Bellingstone Pack
Axel Wolff || 31 || Alpha Male || Self-Employed, Owns Felix's Diner || FC: Brandon Flowers || TAKEN: Scarlet Loup
Sydney Green || 29 || Alpha Female || Waitress at Felix's Diner || FC: Blake Lively || TAKEN: Sunshine and Whiskey
Junsoo Moon || 26 || Beta Male || Bartender; Dance Instructor || FC: Byun Baekhyun || TAKEN: SleepingInTheGardens
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Role in Pack || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
Ellis Bleddyn || 32 || Author ||FC: Andrew Lee Potts || TAKEN: usernamesareadrag
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Role in Pack || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Role in Pack || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
a not-so-affectionate nickname for the vampire population of Bellingstone
Ivan Moreau || 277 || Librarian || FC: Nikolaj Coster-Waldau || TAKEN: Scarlet Loup
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Race || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
those who can not be categorized including humans, minor populations, and actual lone wolves
Albrecht Wolff || 35 || Ex-Alpha Male, Werewolf || Lawyer, Mayoral Candidate || FC: Lee Pace || TAKEN: Scarlet Loup
Marion McWard || 63 || Siren || Bellingstone's Sheriff || FC: Liam Neeson || TAKEN: Moonstruck
Oscar Stein || 37 || Warlock || Co-owns "Escape"; Mayoral Candidate || FC: Michael Fassbender || TAKEN: Sunshine and Whiskey
Rosario Pilar Valenzuela || Appears 28 || Faerie || Owner of Rosas, a plant store || FC: Laura Archbold || TAKEN: nations
Roman Blake || 23 || Witch || FC: Logan Lerman || TAKEN: blueiridescence
Carwyn Pryderi || 29 || Human || Private Investigator || FC: Jenna Coleman || TaKEN: Moonstruck
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Race || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
Poppy Clarke || 26 || Human || Art Conservator || FC: Tristin Mays || TAKEN: Girl2Fine2
Andre Clarke || 30 || Human || Co-owns and bartends "Escape" || FC: Don Benjamin || TAKEN: Girl2Fine2
You see, Bellingstone was product of an unlikely friendship in the early 1800s - Felix Wolff and Ivan Moreau. The two immigrants struck up a close friendship in New York over their shared characteristics in a country that was no more welcoming to their kind than their previous homes. Felix came from a long line of German werewolves, whereas Ivan had lived for centuries as a vampire. Looking to found a community for their kinds to be safe from the threat of humans, they ventured West and bought up land in the mountains.
With the assistance of werewolves and vampires alike, the town seemed to appear almost overnight. By winter 1818, Bellingstone had become a fully-functioning town that was, more or less, completely concealed from the rest of the world. By word of mouth alone, supernatural beings heard of the community and ventured out to find it, allowing the town to flourish. By the time the Civil War had come and gone, a few hundred residents populated Bellingstone. All was peaceful until after World War II.
The Interstate Highway System was developed for the purpose of making life easier for those living in Pennsylvania, but for the residents of Bellingstone, it added a new concern - hiding from the humans who passed through the town for a quick bite or a refuel. Eventually, though, the same people returned until a small human population found root in Bellingstone. The town completely changed, having become a must-see tourist stop, and it just about lost its small town vibe as the population of humans within the town grew to equal and then overwhelm the population of supernaturals.
And so, our story begins in the year of 2017 on a quiet, Saturday morning in mid-autumn. One final warm day, a day for book club gossip among the vampires, afternoon dips in the lake for the mermaids, and whatever it is humans do on such a day. The charming facade of the town may fool some, but there has been tension brewing for decades now. The sudden death of the previous mayor has unnerved most, and the upcoming election, and its surprise candidate, has many alarmed.
those wolves that live within the Bellingstone Pack
Axel Wolff || 31 || Alpha Male || Self-Employed, Owns Felix's Diner || FC: Brandon Flowers || TAKEN: Scarlet Loup
Sydney Green || 29 || Alpha Female || Waitress at Felix's Diner || FC: Blake Lively || TAKEN: Sunshine and Whiskey
Junsoo Moon || 26 || Beta Male || Bartender; Dance Instructor || FC: Byun Baekhyun || TAKEN: SleepingInTheGardens
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Role in Pack || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
Ellis Bleddyn || 32 || Author ||FC: Andrew Lee Potts || TAKEN: usernamesareadrag
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Role in Pack || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Role in Pack || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
a not-so-affectionate nickname for the vampire population of Bellingstone
Ivan Moreau || 277 || Librarian || FC: Nikolaj Coster-Waldau || TAKEN: Scarlet Loup
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Race || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
those who can not be categorized including humans, minor populations, and actual lone wolves
Albrecht Wolff || 35 || Ex-Alpha Male, Werewolf || Lawyer, Mayoral Candidate || FC: Lee Pace || TAKEN: Scarlet Loup
Marion McWard || 63 || Siren || Bellingstone's Sheriff || FC: Liam Neeson || TAKEN: Moonstruck
Oscar Stein || 37 || Warlock || Co-owns "Escape"; Mayoral Candidate || FC: Michael Fassbender || TAKEN: Sunshine and Whiskey
Rosario Pilar Valenzuela || Appears 28 || Faerie || Owner of Rosas, a plant store || FC: Laura Archbold || TAKEN: nations
Roman Blake || 23 || Witch || FC: Logan Lerman || TAKEN: blueiridescence
Carwyn Pryderi || 29 || Human || Private Investigator || FC: Jenna Coleman || TaKEN: Moonstruck
[img]face[/img]
Name || Age || Race || Occupation || FC: ____ || OPEN
Poppy Clarke || 26 || Human || Art Conservator || FC: Tristin Mays || TAKEN: Girl2Fine2
Andre Clarke || 30 || Human || Co-owns and bartends "Escape" || FC: Don Benjamin || TAKEN: Girl2Fine2
- 19 posts here • Page 1 of 1
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 7 authors
AXEL WOLFF
___________________________________
____________________________________
Felix's Diner
#235744
____________________________________
Saturday mornings were, without a doubt, the worst mornings to work at Felix's Diner. They began slowly, sure enough, but by mid-day, Axel was not only cooking and taking orders along the counter but ushering guests into booths and taking orders as he raced back and forth from the kitchen to the dining area. He swore that by the end of the day, the floor would have been worn down under his feet, but he'd also been saying that since he started working at the diner decades ago.
Decades ago. The thought ran a quick shudder down his spine, causing him to spill half a glass of water on to the lap of a startled customer.
"I'm so sorry, miss," he insisted, quickly placing the glass before her on the table. His voice came out in a backwoods sort of drawl, commonplace among those inhabitants who had been raised by long lines of Bellingstone's citizens. The Wolff family had always lived here, likely always would in some manner. It had been Axel's brother who was destined to live in this town, serving the pack and carrying on the family name, but things never really worked out the way they were supposed to.
And so here he was, staring back at the woman as she floundered for a stack of napkins. "Let me get that for you please." He started to dig in his pockets for more napkins, but when he glanced up, the fabric of her dress seemed to have already dried and the glass was once more full.
"I'm fine, love. Could you just get me a new glass of water?" She had seemed to regain her composure, and she looked back up at him with a serene smile, winking quickly as she slid the napkins on to the table. Axel couldn't help but give a soft laugh as he gathered up the glass and the napkins.
"'Course," he replied, weaving his way back to the kitchen. As he moved, he looked about for anyone who might have watched the woman use her powers to dry the dress. Funny how in a town that had been established for supernatural creatures, he still had to worry. But Axel had always known life where Bellingstone was a major stop for tourists crossing the state. The majority of customers were individuals and families only passing through - just a few familiar faces turned to look at him as he passed.
In the kitchen now, he gave a long exhale, wiping at his forehead with the back of his head. He'd been jumpy all day, and it wasn't just because today was an inherently busy day. Rumors of Albrecht returning to town had plagued Axel since his older brother first skipped town, but the rumors over these past few days had been the worst since those very first few weeks when his family had still held out hope that Al was only taking some time to himself in the forest.
He had thought he was over it by now, but no, word of Al still shook him greatly. Perhaps it was nothing. What were the chances of it being true after all of these years? Axel filled a new glass and stepped back out into the space behind the counter. Something just felt ... off.
Decades ago. The thought ran a quick shudder down his spine, causing him to spill half a glass of water on to the lap of a startled customer.
"I'm so sorry, miss," he insisted, quickly placing the glass before her on the table. His voice came out in a backwoods sort of drawl, commonplace among those inhabitants who had been raised by long lines of Bellingstone's citizens. The Wolff family had always lived here, likely always would in some manner. It had been Axel's brother who was destined to live in this town, serving the pack and carrying on the family name, but things never really worked out the way they were supposed to.
And so here he was, staring back at the woman as she floundered for a stack of napkins. "Let me get that for you please." He started to dig in his pockets for more napkins, but when he glanced up, the fabric of her dress seemed to have already dried and the glass was once more full.
"I'm fine, love. Could you just get me a new glass of water?" She had seemed to regain her composure, and she looked back up at him with a serene smile, winking quickly as she slid the napkins on to the table. Axel couldn't help but give a soft laugh as he gathered up the glass and the napkins.
"'Course," he replied, weaving his way back to the kitchen. As he moved, he looked about for anyone who might have watched the woman use her powers to dry the dress. Funny how in a town that had been established for supernatural creatures, he still had to worry. But Axel had always known life where Bellingstone was a major stop for tourists crossing the state. The majority of customers were individuals and families only passing through - just a few familiar faces turned to look at him as he passed.
In the kitchen now, he gave a long exhale, wiping at his forehead with the back of his head. He'd been jumpy all day, and it wasn't just because today was an inherently busy day. Rumors of Albrecht returning to town had plagued Axel since his older brother first skipped town, but the rumors over these past few days had been the worst since those very first few weeks when his family had still held out hope that Al was only taking some time to himself in the forest.
He had thought he was over it by now, but no, word of Al still shook him greatly. Perhaps it was nothing. What were the chances of it being true after all of these years? Axel filled a new glass and stepped back out into the space behind the counter. Something just felt ... off.
CARWYN PRYDERI
____________________________________
_____________________________________
Pryderi Homestead
#395673
_____________________________________
Outside of town in the woods beyond Bellingstone Creek, the Pryderi’s humble homestead resided with an old two story house of mismatched additions at it's center. Carrie remembered moving in when she was 7-years-old; the shabby shack with peeling paint had no more than two bedrooms and a bathroom downstairs at the time.
“I can see it now.” Her father had said, his arms around his wife and child, “generations of Pryderis residing right here!”
Her mother Anita had cried when she saw the piece of crap her husband had bought with almost every penny they had. Carrie had loved it instantly though, even if her bedroom was more like a linen closet with no windows at first. Perhaps she had seen what her dad had in a less psychic way. In any case it had all the trees she could ever hope to climb as a youngster and a little stream to catch critters in.
Her father repaired the decrepit house little by little to the more liveable but still quaint abode it was today. He had added a whole new bedroom on the second floor just for Carrie (turned out her old bedroom had been a linen closet) and a second bathroom; and on the main floor an office, a sunroom, and a second living area to the back.
But optimists made poor psychics as her grandmother once said. Their predictions were less accurate than that of a pessimist. Her father would never see the completion of the house and the generations and generations that would live there, which was becoming more of a dream with Carrie’s singlehood and lack of desire to be in Bellingstone.
One thing he had definitely never installed was a proper AC system. A consequence Carrie was dealing with presently now that she was back home. The house was exclusively heated by two wood burning stoves in the front and back living spaces downstairs and the heat had not quite reached her room yet where she was staying. Instead she improvised by bundling in layers and a blanket at her old writing desk, scratching furiously away with a pen at a piece of notebook paper.
It was recently after her break up that she had picked up writing letters again. These letters, not actually intended to be delivered, was a habit she had started in middle school after her father passed away. They expressed how she felt and after she was done writing them, she would throw them into the creek tied to a rock, where she imagined they had probably formed a trail of secrets that stretched from the bridge all the way into town.
Most of them oddly enough (if this wasn’t strange already) were not written to people but to places where things had happened. She had been writing a lot to her ex lately, but she had also continued her correspondence with her old heartache, Bellingstone.
Her most recent letter went like this:
Dear Bellingstone,
You beautiful town, with your picturesque mountain views, quiet little main street, and friendly neighbors. You are what small town dreams are made of, but I am calling you on your bullshit. (It was only in her letters she ever used such expletives)
You see, most people don't know you like I do. There are some skeletons in your woods and secrets in your brick buildings, and I am catching onto you. I know about the werewolves, the vampires, the warlocks, and so on.That's nothing to be mad about in and of itself, but it is misleading.
You would think life would be a fairytale here and it's not. The werewolves? They bite hard. The vampires? They suck. The warlocks, three words: deus ex machina. But why I'm really mad is because you failed your promise. You were entrusted to protect us. As a small town you are supposed to be a safe haven from crime; in an indifferent world, you are supposed to be a place where everyone matters and knows each other’s name.
Remember Conway Pryderi? Or your latest victim, Jethro Clarke?
You probably don't, but they were people whose trust you betrayed. You told them small town life would keep them safe and their children would not know the harsh realities of the outside.These fathers mattered. They were important people to the community, and more importantly just good people. But I see now, you don't care.
So consider this my final farewell. I am leaving you. For real this time. After I solve this crime you so negligently let happen on your watch. Asshole.
Sincerely,
Carwyn Pryderi
She folded the notebook paper into a tight little triangle and stuck it into her leather side satchel where she stored her notebook, pen, and other miscellaneous detective items. Then she threw on an old over-sized barn coat to go outside and find a proper sized rock to sink her letter with.
Outside the air was refreshingly cool and the dappled sunlight through the few remaining leaves was warm, Fall’s sweet paradox. As she crossed the backyard to the garden a faint melodious humming came into earshot and she stopped at the trellis archway peering at its source, her mother.
“Oh Carrie.” her mother said once she had noticed her, “I thought you might be down here soon.”
“Oh really?”
Her mother got up from her knees where she had been tending to the last of the tomato plants and crossed the garden over to her. Her mother was a petite woman like herself and had to take big steps over each row full of vernal bounty: squash and pumpkin and rhubarb.
“Yes, and I found just the right rock for you…” she placed a medium-sized stone still covered in soil into her daughter's hand.
“MOM, you didn't--”
“No, I didn't look in your head! I just know my daughter. I've seen you out here looking for them.”
Carrie fell silent and curled her fingers around the smooth stone, feeling its weight. It was perfect.
“Thanks…”
It was hard for her not to be snippy with her mother and she felt bad for it. There was something about being around her again that made her feel like glass, that she could see right through her, powers or not. And that at any moment she could break.
“You know you can talk to me about anything, don't you Carebear?” her mother asked. Her gaze was as true and genuine as her words. Only a woman like her mother could possess such abilities as herself and not abuse them.
“Yeah, mom.” she put the stone in her leather satchel alongside the note, deliberately not making eye contact.
Her mother knew from her response that no confessions would be happening today. Carrie had been like this over the summer since she returned home, tight-lipped and reclusive, rarely leaving the house except to go to take a walk in the woods or go down to the creek. It wasn't until Marion McWard the sheriff had shown up at their house asking for Carrie's help that any life had been breathed back into her baby girl. Nonetheless, she wanted to be of support to her daughter and took her arm, walking back towards the house with her. The leaves crunched underfoot and she wrapped her shawl closely around herself.
“So you're going into town I take it?"
“Yes, I have to start work on the mayor’s case.”
“Do you have any ideas of where to start?”
Carrie side-eyed her mother with a smirk at her nosiness. A trait she had admittedly inherited and her career was built upon.
“Oh come on! Don’t hold back details from me! You know your life is the only excitement I get. Who do you suspect, hm?” she persisted with a sly grin.
“Well… the Wolffs are number one.”
Her mother gasped with the drama of a woman off the silver screen, scandalized and intrigued.
“My word! Why?”
“As I see it, they stand to benefit the most from Jethro's death. Al Wolff just rolled back into town to run for mayor and probably take back the pack from his little brother. The werewolves are poised to run this town if he wins.”
“It’s just they are so well respected...” she said.
“They're all people I went to school with too... It's going to be weird.”
“Do you have that silver necklace I gave you?”
After a moment's surprise at her question, she laughed.
“A thin silver necklace is not going to protect me from a giant werewolf. They'd just rip it off and bite me if that's what they wanted to do.” She then realized that probably was not what she wanted to hear, “I mean, they wouldn't do that though, mom… You know, since they're respectable and all.”
Her mother sighed.
“Just be careful, honey. The Wolffs are decent people but if anyone threatens the pack…”
Her voice trailed off not wanting to say what it was she was thinking.They stopped at Carrie’s gray Prius parked in front of the stand alone garage at the end of the driveway.
“I will, no one even knows I'm on the case yet and I plan to keep it that way, at least for a little bit.”
She kissed her mom on the cheek then got into her car, throwing her satchel into the passenger seat beside her. She rolled down her window.
“Bye Mom.”
“Love you, Carebear. Drive safe.”
Her mother watched on, standing in the middle of the driveway as Carrie took off down the gravel road in her car. Carrie waved out her window to her mother before she disappeared into the thick grove of trees ahead and onto the road into town. She could already feel the adrenaline in her veins, the chase was on. But accompanied by the adrenaline was a sense of anxiety that she had never had before on a case. It was the beginning of the deconstruction of everything she knew about her little town... And to some degree she still wanted its simple facade no matter how flimsy. She wanted to still believe in Bellingstone's promise: That everyone she knew was safe and would be kept safe. Yet her disillusionment had already begun, there was no turning back now.
Whatever could be destroyed by truth had to come down... No matter who went down with it.
“I can see it now.” Her father had said, his arms around his wife and child, “generations of Pryderis residing right here!”
Her mother Anita had cried when she saw the piece of crap her husband had bought with almost every penny they had. Carrie had loved it instantly though, even if her bedroom was more like a linen closet with no windows at first. Perhaps she had seen what her dad had in a less psychic way. In any case it had all the trees she could ever hope to climb as a youngster and a little stream to catch critters in.
Her father repaired the decrepit house little by little to the more liveable but still quaint abode it was today. He had added a whole new bedroom on the second floor just for Carrie (turned out her old bedroom had been a linen closet) and a second bathroom; and on the main floor an office, a sunroom, and a second living area to the back.
But optimists made poor psychics as her grandmother once said. Their predictions were less accurate than that of a pessimist. Her father would never see the completion of the house and the generations and generations that would live there, which was becoming more of a dream with Carrie’s singlehood and lack of desire to be in Bellingstone.
One thing he had definitely never installed was a proper AC system. A consequence Carrie was dealing with presently now that she was back home. The house was exclusively heated by two wood burning stoves in the front and back living spaces downstairs and the heat had not quite reached her room yet where she was staying. Instead she improvised by bundling in layers and a blanket at her old writing desk, scratching furiously away with a pen at a piece of notebook paper.
It was recently after her break up that she had picked up writing letters again. These letters, not actually intended to be delivered, was a habit she had started in middle school after her father passed away. They expressed how she felt and after she was done writing them, she would throw them into the creek tied to a rock, where she imagined they had probably formed a trail of secrets that stretched from the bridge all the way into town.
Most of them oddly enough (if this wasn’t strange already) were not written to people but to places where things had happened. She had been writing a lot to her ex lately, but she had also continued her correspondence with her old heartache, Bellingstone.
Her most recent letter went like this:
Dear Bellingstone,
You beautiful town, with your picturesque mountain views, quiet little main street, and friendly neighbors. You are what small town dreams are made of, but I am calling you on your bullshit. (It was only in her letters she ever used such expletives)
You see, most people don't know you like I do. There are some skeletons in your woods and secrets in your brick buildings, and I am catching onto you. I know about the werewolves, the vampires, the warlocks, and so on.That's nothing to be mad about in and of itself, but it is misleading.
You would think life would be a fairytale here and it's not. The werewolves? They bite hard. The vampires? They suck. The warlocks, three words: deus ex machina. But why I'm really mad is because you failed your promise. You were entrusted to protect us. As a small town you are supposed to be a safe haven from crime; in an indifferent world, you are supposed to be a place where everyone matters and knows each other’s name.
Remember Conway Pryderi? Or your latest victim, Jethro Clarke?
You probably don't, but they were people whose trust you betrayed. You told them small town life would keep them safe and their children would not know the harsh realities of the outside.These fathers mattered. They were important people to the community, and more importantly just good people. But I see now, you don't care.
So consider this my final farewell. I am leaving you. For real this time. After I solve this crime you so negligently let happen on your watch. Asshole.
Sincerely,
Carwyn Pryderi
She folded the notebook paper into a tight little triangle and stuck it into her leather side satchel where she stored her notebook, pen, and other miscellaneous detective items. Then she threw on an old over-sized barn coat to go outside and find a proper sized rock to sink her letter with.
Outside the air was refreshingly cool and the dappled sunlight through the few remaining leaves was warm, Fall’s sweet paradox. As she crossed the backyard to the garden a faint melodious humming came into earshot and she stopped at the trellis archway peering at its source, her mother.
“Oh Carrie.” her mother said once she had noticed her, “I thought you might be down here soon.”
“Oh really?”
Her mother got up from her knees where she had been tending to the last of the tomato plants and crossed the garden over to her. Her mother was a petite woman like herself and had to take big steps over each row full of vernal bounty: squash and pumpkin and rhubarb.
“Yes, and I found just the right rock for you…” she placed a medium-sized stone still covered in soil into her daughter's hand.
“MOM, you didn't--”
“No, I didn't look in your head! I just know my daughter. I've seen you out here looking for them.”
Carrie fell silent and curled her fingers around the smooth stone, feeling its weight. It was perfect.
“Thanks…”
It was hard for her not to be snippy with her mother and she felt bad for it. There was something about being around her again that made her feel like glass, that she could see right through her, powers or not. And that at any moment she could break.
“You know you can talk to me about anything, don't you Carebear?” her mother asked. Her gaze was as true and genuine as her words. Only a woman like her mother could possess such abilities as herself and not abuse them.
“Yeah, mom.” she put the stone in her leather satchel alongside the note, deliberately not making eye contact.
Her mother knew from her response that no confessions would be happening today. Carrie had been like this over the summer since she returned home, tight-lipped and reclusive, rarely leaving the house except to go to take a walk in the woods or go down to the creek. It wasn't until Marion McWard the sheriff had shown up at their house asking for Carrie's help that any life had been breathed back into her baby girl. Nonetheless, she wanted to be of support to her daughter and took her arm, walking back towards the house with her. The leaves crunched underfoot and she wrapped her shawl closely around herself.
“So you're going into town I take it?"
“Yes, I have to start work on the mayor’s case.”
“Do you have any ideas of where to start?”
Carrie side-eyed her mother with a smirk at her nosiness. A trait she had admittedly inherited and her career was built upon.
“Oh come on! Don’t hold back details from me! You know your life is the only excitement I get. Who do you suspect, hm?” she persisted with a sly grin.
“Well… the Wolffs are number one.”
Her mother gasped with the drama of a woman off the silver screen, scandalized and intrigued.
“My word! Why?”
“As I see it, they stand to benefit the most from Jethro's death. Al Wolff just rolled back into town to run for mayor and probably take back the pack from his little brother. The werewolves are poised to run this town if he wins.”
“It’s just they are so well respected...” she said.
“They're all people I went to school with too... It's going to be weird.”
“Do you have that silver necklace I gave you?”
After a moment's surprise at her question, she laughed.
“A thin silver necklace is not going to protect me from a giant werewolf. They'd just rip it off and bite me if that's what they wanted to do.” She then realized that probably was not what she wanted to hear, “I mean, they wouldn't do that though, mom… You know, since they're respectable and all.”
Her mother sighed.
“Just be careful, honey. The Wolffs are decent people but if anyone threatens the pack…”
Her voice trailed off not wanting to say what it was she was thinking.They stopped at Carrie’s gray Prius parked in front of the stand alone garage at the end of the driveway.
“I will, no one even knows I'm on the case yet and I plan to keep it that way, at least for a little bit.”
She kissed her mom on the cheek then got into her car, throwing her satchel into the passenger seat beside her. She rolled down her window.
“Bye Mom.”
“Love you, Carebear. Drive safe.”
Her mother watched on, standing in the middle of the driveway as Carrie took off down the gravel road in her car. Carrie waved out her window to her mother before she disappeared into the thick grove of trees ahead and onto the road into town. She could already feel the adrenaline in her veins, the chase was on. But accompanied by the adrenaline was a sense of anxiety that she had never had before on a case. It was the beginning of the deconstruction of everything she knew about her little town... And to some degree she still wanted its simple facade no matter how flimsy. She wanted to still believe in Bellingstone's promise: That everyone she knew was safe and would be kept safe. Yet her disillusionment had already begun, there was no turning back now.
Whatever could be destroyed by truth had to come down... No matter who went down with it.
ALBRECHT WOLFF
_________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________
Across the street from Felix's Diner
#735a75
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Those rumors were not baseless, as Axel would soon learn. Albrecht had indeed returned to town almost half of a week beforehand. He had managed to hide away in his newly-purchased house for the first day, unpacking the boxes he had brought with him.
The next day had been spent organizing and reorganizing his house. In fact, so were the next two days. But there was only so much he could do without driving himself insane, and so Al had finally ventured from his home for the first time that morning. He had gone for a jog that morning without causing a commotion, and perhaps that had given him enough gumption to try and make his official return to Bellingstone.
Or perhaps his official return had happened when he first submitted his intent to run for mayor in the emergency election to replace Jethro Clarke. Maybe he should have spoken to either his brother or his parents before he had come into town. It was too late for that now though, and here he was, staring down his family's diner from across the street and a few storefronts away.
Certainly, the news was breaking now, and it was only a matter of time before Axel heard the news from someone else. Al took a deep breath in and then out once more. He took a step towards the diner and then stopped again.
God, why was this so hard?
Al pulled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it. He could call his mother or his father, tell him he was here first. His finger hovered over their phone numbers. No, Axel was the one he had to speak to. They had never gotten along as children, but they were older now, and so certainly those days had passed.
But perhaps he would wait until it looked like the diner had calmed down a bit. Until then, he sat down on a park bench, continuing to stare down the diner as he considered the best way to make his re-entrance into Bellingstone.
The next day had been spent organizing and reorganizing his house. In fact, so were the next two days. But there was only so much he could do without driving himself insane, and so Al had finally ventured from his home for the first time that morning. He had gone for a jog that morning without causing a commotion, and perhaps that had given him enough gumption to try and make his official return to Bellingstone.
Or perhaps his official return had happened when he first submitted his intent to run for mayor in the emergency election to replace Jethro Clarke. Maybe he should have spoken to either his brother or his parents before he had come into town. It was too late for that now though, and here he was, staring down his family's diner from across the street and a few storefronts away.
Certainly, the news was breaking now, and it was only a matter of time before Axel heard the news from someone else. Al took a deep breath in and then out once more. He took a step towards the diner and then stopped again.
God, why was this so hard?
Al pulled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it. He could call his mother or his father, tell him he was here first. His finger hovered over their phone numbers. No, Axel was the one he had to speak to. They had never gotten along as children, but they were older now, and so certainly those days had passed.
But perhaps he would wait until it looked like the diner had calmed down a bit. Until then, he sat down on a park bench, continuing to stare down the diner as he considered the best way to make his re-entrance into Bellingstone.
MARION MCWARD
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____________________________________
Bellingstone Creek
#0c2945
____________________________________
On the bridge over Bellingstone Creek Marion leaned over the stone railing nonchalantly watching red and yellow maple leaves be swept away downstream in the crystal clear water. The creek had expanded by a couple of feet already this Fall and by the end of winter its mass would scale the rocky tree-lined shore to tear out a few trees by its roots. It could almost be called a formidable force of nature, but it hardly made Marion shiver in comparison to the waves of the North Atlantic.
In fact it was tempting to dive into its cold mountain water and swim to whatever large body of water it took him to: one of the Great Lakes most likely. He was half tempted to toss the manila envelope he had in his hand down into the water too and let the crawdads have a go at the case he was working on. It was likely they'd make as much sense of the evidence as him at this point.
It was no secret he was ready to leave this place but the mayor's death was the one thing keeping the sheriff and water dwelling siren from retiring and calling it quits. Bellingstone had been his home for 36 years but what had made it home, his wife Martha, was gone. She had loved this place and he loved it only insofar as she did, and now that she was no longer here all of its appeal had been sucked out. All of the charmingly old buildings only stood as a reminder to him that she was gone. Everything in town was tainted by her memory, the places and even the people. There hadn't been one resident she didn't know and wasn't on a friendly basis with it seemed like, having taught generations of Bellingstone children, human and supernatural alike. They couldn't walk three feet down main street without her stopping to chat with someone. Now all the residents just looked on sadly as he passed them on the street.
But he couldn't leave goddamnit. Martha wouldn't have let him quit the case and she was still there as the little angel on his shoulder.
“Oh the poor Clarke children.” he could hear her say, ”I remember when they were just this big. They were so close to their father. You will solve the case won't you, Fish?”
Yes, dear. Of course…
The sound of a vehicle approaching pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see a gray Prius parking at the end of the bridge. The short figure of Carwyn Pryderi climbed out of the vehicle and walked towards him, meeting him in the middle of the bridge. She did in many ways resemble his late police partner Conway Pryderi, from her pointed nose to her dark brown hair, even more so in the way her eyes seemed to read and analyze everything in her surroundings and then hide what she knew behind a placid expression. But he wasn't meeting her here to reminisce about the good ol’ days with her dad.
“Hi Mr.McWard.” she greeted chipperly.
Without any kind of preface or greeting in return he handed her the manila envelope.
“Take a look.”
Carrie opened the envelope and leafed through the papers and pictures inside. She carefully read each line with a finger to keep her place. After finishing, she flipped through the pages twice more as if she had missed something and checked to see that none of the pages were stuck together.
“This is the coroner's report? That's it?…” she looked up at him and he nodded.
“What do you make of it?” He asked. He already had his own theories but was interested in his new Private Investigator’s thoughts. He never thought in all his days he would have to use one, but he was at his wits end. And a Pryderi, psychic or not, might have had some kind of intuition he did not.
She sighed, puffing out her cheeks and letting the air out slowly.
“Well… blood on his collar and the lack of blood in the body could indicate a vampire attack.”
“No bite marks, but yes, it's a possibility.” He agreed, “There’s a chance it's just a coincidence too, the mayor may have had a medical condition that caused the anemia and the cut on his jaw has been chalked up to a shaving cut. But I’m not relying on the guesswork of humans… The only thing is: there’s only one vampire in town.”
She immediately knew who he was talking about.
“Ivan Moreau.” she said.
He almost heard a little pity in her voice.
Ivan or Van as he was more popularly known was the only consistent resident vampire of Bellingstone and the local library director. He was coincidentally one of the founders of the town too. Over time the population of vampires had dwindled. Those who moved in, quickly moved on, perhaps bored with the lack of nightlife or lack of food. (Humans may have been a pain in the ass to coexist with, but the supernatural here all agreed eating them was not a viable solution.) In any case, Van was the only vampire left and he, like all biters, seemed to be an arrogant prick in Marion's opinion but not a dangerous one. Not that he knew of anyways...
“Mmhmm, and what kind of motive would he have?” Marion asked.
“Maybe the mayor didn't pay the late fees on his overdue library books?” She snorted but he appeared completely unamused so she moved on quickly. “I’ll look into him… I need to renew my library card anyways. Maybe we should check into the covens too? Human blood is powerful for ritual purposes isn’t it?”
He almost smiled, almost. It was refreshing to be working with someone who understood the supernatural and wasn't a complete dunce.
“You're right, kid. I'll take a look. Martha was friendly with the Blake coven, I shouldn't have a problem talking to them. And our other mayoral candidate Oscar Stein is a warlock too… I'll have to pay him a visit.”
Carrie quirked a smile. There was just something about the way he said “kid” in his slight Irish lilt that could make anyone feel warm and fuzzy inside (or terrified depending on his tone).
The two seemed off to a good start and pleased with their direction, for as many directions they were being pulled in.
“Great. I'm heading over to the diner now to investigate the Wolffs.” Carrie told him, sticking the copy of the coroner's report in her bag.
Marion pushed off the railing and placed a hand on her shoulder, making her look at him.
“Careful with them. Werewolves for all their posturing are the most touchy creatures. If they sniff out you're investigating them they might not talk to you at all. And that's if they're feeling kind.”
“Yeah, I know…” actually she couldn't imagine any of her former classmates wolfing out on her. Then again, she had never been at the center of any ire from a werewolf. “They’re going to figure out eventually though you know.”
He took his hand off her shoulder. “Most definitely, this is Bellingstone, you can't take a piss without someone knowing about it. But we have to keep your involvement in the case on the down low as long as possible. It's the only advantage we have at this point.”
His eyebrows furrowed above his clear blue eyes as he looked down at her, expressing concern and stricture.
“So, be careful.” he reiterated. “And don't tell anyone about what I just showed you. This report hasn't been released yet.”
She gave him a confident nod,“I know what I'm doing. Secrets are my business. I'll be careful.”
“Good.”
She turned towards the water, taking a rock and folded piece of paper from her satchel and began to wind the two together with a piece of twine from her pocket.
“What's that?” he arched a brow at her.
“Just a note.”
“You’re throwing it into the creek?”
“No, to the water faeries, of course.”
“There aren't any water faeries here in--” he noticed the subtle smirk on her face as she continued to wind the twine around and he stopped himself, “whatever… just make it quick and get to work, Pryderi.”
He headed back to his sheriff's car parked on the opposite side of the bridge. He hadn't said those words in a while, but he remembered saying them a thousand times before, ‘get to work, Pryderi', making him smile a little to himself.
“Will do, Mr. McWard.” he heard her say behind him.
He got into his vehicle and watched as Carrie threw the note into the creek and then walk back to her car as well. He hoped he wouldn't regret taking her onto the case. She was bright but he felt like he was literally feeding her to the wolves. He turned on his engine and spun around back towards town, shoving such thoughts to the back of his mind.
But this was still Bellingstone, he told himself.
What’s the worst that could happen?
In fact it was tempting to dive into its cold mountain water and swim to whatever large body of water it took him to: one of the Great Lakes most likely. He was half tempted to toss the manila envelope he had in his hand down into the water too and let the crawdads have a go at the case he was working on. It was likely they'd make as much sense of the evidence as him at this point.
It was no secret he was ready to leave this place but the mayor's death was the one thing keeping the sheriff and water dwelling siren from retiring and calling it quits. Bellingstone had been his home for 36 years but what had made it home, his wife Martha, was gone. She had loved this place and he loved it only insofar as she did, and now that she was no longer here all of its appeal had been sucked out. All of the charmingly old buildings only stood as a reminder to him that she was gone. Everything in town was tainted by her memory, the places and even the people. There hadn't been one resident she didn't know and wasn't on a friendly basis with it seemed like, having taught generations of Bellingstone children, human and supernatural alike. They couldn't walk three feet down main street without her stopping to chat with someone. Now all the residents just looked on sadly as he passed them on the street.
But he couldn't leave goddamnit. Martha wouldn't have let him quit the case and she was still there as the little angel on his shoulder.
“Oh the poor Clarke children.” he could hear her say, ”I remember when they were just this big. They were so close to their father. You will solve the case won't you, Fish?”
Yes, dear. Of course…
The sound of a vehicle approaching pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see a gray Prius parking at the end of the bridge. The short figure of Carwyn Pryderi climbed out of the vehicle and walked towards him, meeting him in the middle of the bridge. She did in many ways resemble his late police partner Conway Pryderi, from her pointed nose to her dark brown hair, even more so in the way her eyes seemed to read and analyze everything in her surroundings and then hide what she knew behind a placid expression. But he wasn't meeting her here to reminisce about the good ol’ days with her dad.
“Hi Mr.McWard.” she greeted chipperly.
Without any kind of preface or greeting in return he handed her the manila envelope.
“Take a look.”
Carrie opened the envelope and leafed through the papers and pictures inside. She carefully read each line with a finger to keep her place. After finishing, she flipped through the pages twice more as if she had missed something and checked to see that none of the pages were stuck together.
“This is the coroner's report? That's it?…” she looked up at him and he nodded.
“What do you make of it?” He asked. He already had his own theories but was interested in his new Private Investigator’s thoughts. He never thought in all his days he would have to use one, but he was at his wits end. And a Pryderi, psychic or not, might have had some kind of intuition he did not.
She sighed, puffing out her cheeks and letting the air out slowly.
“Well… blood on his collar and the lack of blood in the body could indicate a vampire attack.”
“No bite marks, but yes, it's a possibility.” He agreed, “There’s a chance it's just a coincidence too, the mayor may have had a medical condition that caused the anemia and the cut on his jaw has been chalked up to a shaving cut. But I’m not relying on the guesswork of humans… The only thing is: there’s only one vampire in town.”
She immediately knew who he was talking about.
“Ivan Moreau.” she said.
He almost heard a little pity in her voice.
Ivan or Van as he was more popularly known was the only consistent resident vampire of Bellingstone and the local library director. He was coincidentally one of the founders of the town too. Over time the population of vampires had dwindled. Those who moved in, quickly moved on, perhaps bored with the lack of nightlife or lack of food. (Humans may have been a pain in the ass to coexist with, but the supernatural here all agreed eating them was not a viable solution.) In any case, Van was the only vampire left and he, like all biters, seemed to be an arrogant prick in Marion's opinion but not a dangerous one. Not that he knew of anyways...
“Mmhmm, and what kind of motive would he have?” Marion asked.
“Maybe the mayor didn't pay the late fees on his overdue library books?” She snorted but he appeared completely unamused so she moved on quickly. “I’ll look into him… I need to renew my library card anyways. Maybe we should check into the covens too? Human blood is powerful for ritual purposes isn’t it?”
He almost smiled, almost. It was refreshing to be working with someone who understood the supernatural and wasn't a complete dunce.
“You're right, kid. I'll take a look. Martha was friendly with the Blake coven, I shouldn't have a problem talking to them. And our other mayoral candidate Oscar Stein is a warlock too… I'll have to pay him a visit.”
Carrie quirked a smile. There was just something about the way he said “kid” in his slight Irish lilt that could make anyone feel warm and fuzzy inside (or terrified depending on his tone).
The two seemed off to a good start and pleased with their direction, for as many directions they were being pulled in.
“Great. I'm heading over to the diner now to investigate the Wolffs.” Carrie told him, sticking the copy of the coroner's report in her bag.
Marion pushed off the railing and placed a hand on her shoulder, making her look at him.
“Careful with them. Werewolves for all their posturing are the most touchy creatures. If they sniff out you're investigating them they might not talk to you at all. And that's if they're feeling kind.”
“Yeah, I know…” actually she couldn't imagine any of her former classmates wolfing out on her. Then again, she had never been at the center of any ire from a werewolf. “They’re going to figure out eventually though you know.”
He took his hand off her shoulder. “Most definitely, this is Bellingstone, you can't take a piss without someone knowing about it. But we have to keep your involvement in the case on the down low as long as possible. It's the only advantage we have at this point.”
His eyebrows furrowed above his clear blue eyes as he looked down at her, expressing concern and stricture.
“So, be careful.” he reiterated. “And don't tell anyone about what I just showed you. This report hasn't been released yet.”
She gave him a confident nod,“I know what I'm doing. Secrets are my business. I'll be careful.”
“Good.”
She turned towards the water, taking a rock and folded piece of paper from her satchel and began to wind the two together with a piece of twine from her pocket.
“What's that?” he arched a brow at her.
“Just a note.”
“You’re throwing it into the creek?”
“No, to the water faeries, of course.”
“There aren't any water faeries here in--” he noticed the subtle smirk on her face as she continued to wind the twine around and he stopped himself, “whatever… just make it quick and get to work, Pryderi.”
He headed back to his sheriff's car parked on the opposite side of the bridge. He hadn't said those words in a while, but he remembered saying them a thousand times before, ‘get to work, Pryderi', making him smile a little to himself.
“Will do, Mr. McWard.” he heard her say behind him.
He got into his vehicle and watched as Carrie threw the note into the creek and then walk back to her car as well. He hoped he wouldn't regret taking her onto the case. She was bright but he felt like he was literally feeding her to the wolves. He turned on his engine and spun around back towards town, shoving such thoughts to the back of his mind.
But this was still Bellingstone, he told himself.
What’s the worst that could happen?
────────────────────────────
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P O P P YXC L A R K E
_____ T H EXA R T I S T_____
Outfit: Link Here
Location: Poppy Clarke's Condo
Dialogue Color ✦ #E8ADAA
Thought Color ✧ #985D5A
────────────────────────────
────────────────────────────
_____ T H EXP R O T E C T O R_____
Outfit: Link Here
Location: Poppy Clarke's Condo
Dialogue Color ✦ #DEB887
Thought Color ✧ #8E6837
────────────────────────────
P O P P YXC L A R K E
_____ T H EXA R T I S T_____
Outfit: Link Here
Location: Poppy Clarke's Condo
Dialogue Color ✦ #E8ADAA
Thought Color ✧ #985D5A
────────────────────────────
────────────────────────────
_____ T H EXP R O T E C T O R_____
Outfit: Link Here
Location: Poppy Clarke's Condo
Dialogue Color ✦ #DEB887
Thought Color ✧ #8E6837
Last night was the first night in two weeks that Poppy Clarke had stayed at her own place.
Poppy had been in the city when news of her father's death had reached her. Andre had driven over himself, waiting until he knew for a fact that she was off work and just leaving the museum to scoop her up and tell her. Poppy had been inconsolable then, she recalled with another sip of her tea, the astringency of the hot liquid peeking out over the sweetness and creaminess that came with her addition of cream and sugar. Andre had steeped the leaves for a little too long. He had never been very good at making tea, which was understandable given the fact that he wasn't the one who drank it at all.
Nevertheless, Poppy had been unable to stomach the idea of staying in this condo by herself, not with her aunt having flown in and deciding to stay at their family estate and the loss of her father cutting her so deep that she had felt too raw and ready to lash out at any and everyone. Though both of the Clarke children could always be looked to for their debonair attitudes as it came to the public, there was a notable difference, especially in the wake of this recent loss, between them that had little to do with their genders. Andre was the pillar of strength, as most had noted. He had been refined in this time, despite his own grief, and had thrown himself into handling all family affairs. His father's things still needed to be cleared out of the mayor's office, but Andre had handled the funeral arrangements and any other pressing matters. He accepted food offerings and condolences with a polite smile, and remained collected though notably affected. No one could say that his mannerisms had left them unable to see that his father's death had very much shaken the young man. It was that very sophisticated air about him that reminded so many of the townsfolk of their once beloved mayor. It reminded them of how much he stressed the point of appearance to his kids. Poppy, on the other hand, had always been given a freer upbringing and with that came the very fact that she was far more emotional, a volcano waiting to erupt. Poppy had class, yes, but less tact.
Poppy had bristled at recollections of past bonds with her father when shared, disallowing other relationships he had formed to lessen her own grief or keep her from side-eyeing anyone who had truly believed the cause of death the coroner wrote down. She gave one hell of an impressive growl at the thirteenth offer of help if she were to ever need it, unable to accept that everyone saw her as some needy little brat who needed to be coddled. What she had needed was the truth. Her father didn't just up and die out of nowhere. They had literally spoken a few hours before his death, laughing over his buying a painting of her colleagues that in all honesty, neither of them could truly understand the story of, despite the artist's lengthy description. Poppy knew, to some degree, that her grief made her a touch petulant, too quick to rise. She even apologized the day after the wake for fear of offending everyone. But it did not make her ire about her father go away, nor did her suspicions regarding his passing leave her mind. She just learned to keep a glass of wine on her person at all times when she had guests nearby and prayed like hell that she didn't fall on her ass in the middle of their hardwood floors with half of their town in various areas of their estate.
"I didn't make this for nothing," Andre called from inside and Poppy glanced over her shoulder to glower at him, elbows holding up her petite frame with the support of her stone railing. Andre had followed her back to her apartment last night simply to keep her company for a bit, but as always, his "bit" included staying the night most of the time and forcing her to eat the next day. To some extent, it was heart-warming. Her brother cooked for her when he would not do the same for any other. At the moment, especially after her run on her favorite path in the woods, it was more grating. "Not hungry." She spoke the words after another sip of her tea, allowing the liquid paradise to slide down her throat and warm her from the inside out. Her gaze lingered on the traipsing denizens before she officially turned and headed back inside, closing the door to her balcony and locking it as she went. Andre, nonplussed by her pensive nature, set a plate down on the stark-white counter, the Caribbean spices wafting up to her nostrils enticingly. Her stomach refused to agree with her mouth then. "Good thing it's not up to you, but your stomach. Now eat." His tone brooked no room for argument and Poppy bristled, shooting him the third glare of the morning but promptly sat down on one of her chairs, plucking one of the chocolate-filled croissants she had bought in a platter from the shop downstairs.
Andre had been somehow slipped back into the normalcy of life after their father's death. There was a cooler edge, yes. He was still tense, but he had somehow been able to maintain easy camaraderie with everyone he came across. Inside, though, especially from what Poppy could see, he was guarded. And more attentive, which for her, was both a good and bad thing. It meant a more protective brother than the already over-protective one she had grown up with. Lucky me, she thought sarcastically, using her fork to break into the yolk of her fried egg. She watched yellow rivulets as they cascaded down the small mound of oxtail hash, shocks of orange from the sweet potatoes peeking out in the brown broth. "Did you know Albrecht Wolff was back in town and running for mayor?" Andre gathered both a mug of coffee for himself - Poppy may roll her eyes at her brother's insistence upon staying with her occasionally, but it didn't mean that she didn't look out for him to some degree during his stay - and his own plate before rounding the corner to come sit beside her at the counter top, pausing only to inquire, "And where'd you hear that, sis?" Poppy stopped short of lifting the forkful to her mouth, eyeing him. "So, you're not even gonna deny that you knew, all this time." It wasn't a question. Andre only gave her a long look before beginning to dig into his food. Poppy narrowed her hazel eyes at him, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face since it refused to be tied up in the messy bun she had thrown her hair into before her run. "I heard it from Mrs. Wilcox on the way back in. She was gossiping with her niece, as usual, downstairs while they were waiting for their coffee. Don't think she even realized I was behind her 'til she paid for her stuff." Andre snorted, using his coffee to wash down the remnants of food in his mouth. "Oh, she knew you were there. The old hoot probably wanted to see how you'd react," he told her with certainty, mixing his food up to incorporate more of the egg into every bite. "And I knew he was back. I didn't know he was running for mayor." When something hit the rumor mill in this town, nine times out of ten, there was some truth to it. Andre had yet to see Albrecht Wolff, but he definitely did believe the little old ladies who ran the farmer's market when they said that he was definitely back in town. It was too specific of a rumor for them to have just made up.
Poppy waited until she finished chewing before speaking again. "And you don't think that's suspicious as hell?" When Andre gave her neither a considering look nor spoke a word for a minute, Poppy followed up, incredulous, "Dre, c'mon. The guy stole away like a thief of the night with neither hide nor hair of him. Now he decides he wants to come back and run for mayor of all things? His parents were devastated and Axel - " Poppy had to break off then, forbidden concerns for the diner owner arising. It didn't help that Andre's eyes seemed to darken upon the notable stain of softness in her voice when Poppy had just been about to mention him. It never was a good idea to mention her past with the man in her brother's appearance. It always brooked a headache. "They aren't your concern, Pops," he stated flatly and Poppy set her fork down, taking her mug into her hands to warm them in lieu of the frostiness in her brother's tone. "If there's one thing Dad being mayor taught us is that above all things, we need to worry about ourselves first. Whatever happens with that mayoral office has nothing to do with us now. What we worry about is ours, and that includes any and all suspicions about what happened to Dad. Do I think it's suspicious? Hell yeah. But what you're not gonna do is concern yourself with Wolff right now. Either of them." Poppy watched him return to eating, the uneasiness in her stomach disallowing her to pick up her fork just yet. "Then what am I supposed to do, Dre? 'Cause I know that you don't just expect me to sit back and just let things happen." Andre took a strong swallow of coffee before answering her. "That's exactly what I expect for you to do. That ain't got nothing to do with you - with either of us. Let it go, Pops." Distantly, however, they both knew that that was not going to happen.
Poppy had been in the city when news of her father's death had reached her. Andre had driven over himself, waiting until he knew for a fact that she was off work and just leaving the museum to scoop her up and tell her. Poppy had been inconsolable then, she recalled with another sip of her tea, the astringency of the hot liquid peeking out over the sweetness and creaminess that came with her addition of cream and sugar. Andre had steeped the leaves for a little too long. He had never been very good at making tea, which was understandable given the fact that he wasn't the one who drank it at all.
Nevertheless, Poppy had been unable to stomach the idea of staying in this condo by herself, not with her aunt having flown in and deciding to stay at their family estate and the loss of her father cutting her so deep that she had felt too raw and ready to lash out at any and everyone. Though both of the Clarke children could always be looked to for their debonair attitudes as it came to the public, there was a notable difference, especially in the wake of this recent loss, between them that had little to do with their genders. Andre was the pillar of strength, as most had noted. He had been refined in this time, despite his own grief, and had thrown himself into handling all family affairs. His father's things still needed to be cleared out of the mayor's office, but Andre had handled the funeral arrangements and any other pressing matters. He accepted food offerings and condolences with a polite smile, and remained collected though notably affected. No one could say that his mannerisms had left them unable to see that his father's death had very much shaken the young man. It was that very sophisticated air about him that reminded so many of the townsfolk of their once beloved mayor. It reminded them of how much he stressed the point of appearance to his kids. Poppy, on the other hand, had always been given a freer upbringing and with that came the very fact that she was far more emotional, a volcano waiting to erupt. Poppy had class, yes, but less tact.
Poppy had bristled at recollections of past bonds with her father when shared, disallowing other relationships he had formed to lessen her own grief or keep her from side-eyeing anyone who had truly believed the cause of death the coroner wrote down. She gave one hell of an impressive growl at the thirteenth offer of help if she were to ever need it, unable to accept that everyone saw her as some needy little brat who needed to be coddled. What she had needed was the truth. Her father didn't just up and die out of nowhere. They had literally spoken a few hours before his death, laughing over his buying a painting of her colleagues that in all honesty, neither of them could truly understand the story of, despite the artist's lengthy description. Poppy knew, to some degree, that her grief made her a touch petulant, too quick to rise. She even apologized the day after the wake for fear of offending everyone. But it did not make her ire about her father go away, nor did her suspicions regarding his passing leave her mind. She just learned to keep a glass of wine on her person at all times when she had guests nearby and prayed like hell that she didn't fall on her ass in the middle of their hardwood floors with half of their town in various areas of their estate.
"I didn't make this for nothing," Andre called from inside and Poppy glanced over her shoulder to glower at him, elbows holding up her petite frame with the support of her stone railing. Andre had followed her back to her apartment last night simply to keep her company for a bit, but as always, his "bit" included staying the night most of the time and forcing her to eat the next day. To some extent, it was heart-warming. Her brother cooked for her when he would not do the same for any other. At the moment, especially after her run on her favorite path in the woods, it was more grating. "Not hungry." She spoke the words after another sip of her tea, allowing the liquid paradise to slide down her throat and warm her from the inside out. Her gaze lingered on the traipsing denizens before she officially turned and headed back inside, closing the door to her balcony and locking it as she went. Andre, nonplussed by her pensive nature, set a plate down on the stark-white counter, the Caribbean spices wafting up to her nostrils enticingly. Her stomach refused to agree with her mouth then. "Good thing it's not up to you, but your stomach. Now eat." His tone brooked no room for argument and Poppy bristled, shooting him the third glare of the morning but promptly sat down on one of her chairs, plucking one of the chocolate-filled croissants she had bought in a platter from the shop downstairs.
Andre had been somehow slipped back into the normalcy of life after their father's death. There was a cooler edge, yes. He was still tense, but he had somehow been able to maintain easy camaraderie with everyone he came across. Inside, though, especially from what Poppy could see, he was guarded. And more attentive, which for her, was both a good and bad thing. It meant a more protective brother than the already over-protective one she had grown up with. Lucky me, she thought sarcastically, using her fork to break into the yolk of her fried egg. She watched yellow rivulets as they cascaded down the small mound of oxtail hash, shocks of orange from the sweet potatoes peeking out in the brown broth. "Did you know Albrecht Wolff was back in town and running for mayor?" Andre gathered both a mug of coffee for himself - Poppy may roll her eyes at her brother's insistence upon staying with her occasionally, but it didn't mean that she didn't look out for him to some degree during his stay - and his own plate before rounding the corner to come sit beside her at the counter top, pausing only to inquire, "And where'd you hear that, sis?" Poppy stopped short of lifting the forkful to her mouth, eyeing him. "So, you're not even gonna deny that you knew, all this time." It wasn't a question. Andre only gave her a long look before beginning to dig into his food. Poppy narrowed her hazel eyes at him, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face since it refused to be tied up in the messy bun she had thrown her hair into before her run. "I heard it from Mrs. Wilcox on the way back in. She was gossiping with her niece, as usual, downstairs while they were waiting for their coffee. Don't think she even realized I was behind her 'til she paid for her stuff." Andre snorted, using his coffee to wash down the remnants of food in his mouth. "Oh, she knew you were there. The old hoot probably wanted to see how you'd react," he told her with certainty, mixing his food up to incorporate more of the egg into every bite. "And I knew he was back. I didn't know he was running for mayor." When something hit the rumor mill in this town, nine times out of ten, there was some truth to it. Andre had yet to see Albrecht Wolff, but he definitely did believe the little old ladies who ran the farmer's market when they said that he was definitely back in town. It was too specific of a rumor for them to have just made up.
Poppy waited until she finished chewing before speaking again. "And you don't think that's suspicious as hell?" When Andre gave her neither a considering look nor spoke a word for a minute, Poppy followed up, incredulous, "Dre, c'mon. The guy stole away like a thief of the night with neither hide nor hair of him. Now he decides he wants to come back and run for mayor of all things? His parents were devastated and Axel - " Poppy had to break off then, forbidden concerns for the diner owner arising. It didn't help that Andre's eyes seemed to darken upon the notable stain of softness in her voice when Poppy had just been about to mention him. It never was a good idea to mention her past with the man in her brother's appearance. It always brooked a headache. "They aren't your concern, Pops," he stated flatly and Poppy set her fork down, taking her mug into her hands to warm them in lieu of the frostiness in her brother's tone. "If there's one thing Dad being mayor taught us is that above all things, we need to worry about ourselves first. Whatever happens with that mayoral office has nothing to do with us now. What we worry about is ours, and that includes any and all suspicions about what happened to Dad. Do I think it's suspicious? Hell yeah. But what you're not gonna do is concern yourself with Wolff right now. Either of them." Poppy watched him return to eating, the uneasiness in her stomach disallowing her to pick up her fork just yet. "Then what am I supposed to do, Dre? 'Cause I know that you don't just expect me to sit back and just let things happen." Andre took a strong swallow of coffee before answering her. "That's exactly what I expect for you to do. That ain't got nothing to do with you - with either of us. Let it go, Pops." Distantly, however, they both knew that that was not going to happen.
CARWYN PRYDERI
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Downtown Bellingstone
#395673
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Carrie drove to downtown Bellingstone right after her meeting with the sheriff. She was forced to search for a parking space down the street from Felix's Diner, since almost every spot close to it had been taken. As she searched, she spotted Albrecht Wolff sitting across the street from the diner alone on a bench. What luck. she thought. Her number one suspect just sitting there waiting for her so it seemed. But it wasn't really all that lucky. In a little town like Belllingstone it wasn't that unusual to run into people, including people like the mayor, or in this case the mayoral candidate.
She drove on and found a place to park at the end of the street and walked towards where she saw Al. Watching him unawares, she observed him from a distance. He was looking contemplatively at the diner, a hidden battle going on inside his mind. Even appearing a bit anxious with his expressive brows furrowed upwards. Other than the nervous expression at the moment, he appeared as the Albrecht she knew from her youth. He was tall even sitting down, athletically built, and dressed sharply (though with more expensive clothing she noted, business must have been well in Pittsburgh). His harmless face and charisma made him approachable but belied his truly dominant nature. In his youth he had been a bully, something she witnessed first hand as Axel's childhood playmate. If she was ever at the Wolff house, he was bound to appear seemingly out of nowhere to either shove Axel into a wall as he went by or jump scare them both. She had hated him, not for being a jerk as she expected of most teenage boys, but for being as mean as he was to Axel. She didn't have any siblings but his aggressiveness always seemed excessive to her.
However she had no idea the person he had become in the last few years of his absence. She would have to reserve judgement, even though she was looking at him for murder. She had to both utilize their history and not let it cloud her analysis simultaneously, which was going to be one of the hardest things overall to do in this investigation. She honestly didn't know Albrecht Wolff anymore, but she did know a few facts she had researched beforehand. Interestingly they had followed a similar trajectory, both running off to college, studying similar fields (she criminal justice, him law - he was working as a lawyer now), and moving to the city (Pittsburgh coincidentally like her), only to end up right back where they started. She was curious to hear what reasons he would give for returning and why he was sitting outside his family's restaurant like a stranger in the cold.
She finally reached him.
"So are you going in or not?" she asked him from behind the bench, moving around to stand beside him. She shoved both her hands in her barn coat pockets casually. ".... You look nervous, I can't say I've ever seen you look that way before, Al." She smiled as their eyes met, not in a mocking way but in a light teasing manner, even a little sympathetic. "Do you mind if I sit down?"
She drove on and found a place to park at the end of the street and walked towards where she saw Al. Watching him unawares, she observed him from a distance. He was looking contemplatively at the diner, a hidden battle going on inside his mind. Even appearing a bit anxious with his expressive brows furrowed upwards. Other than the nervous expression at the moment, he appeared as the Albrecht she knew from her youth. He was tall even sitting down, athletically built, and dressed sharply (though with more expensive clothing she noted, business must have been well in Pittsburgh). His harmless face and charisma made him approachable but belied his truly dominant nature. In his youth he had been a bully, something she witnessed first hand as Axel's childhood playmate. If she was ever at the Wolff house, he was bound to appear seemingly out of nowhere to either shove Axel into a wall as he went by or jump scare them both. She had hated him, not for being a jerk as she expected of most teenage boys, but for being as mean as he was to Axel. She didn't have any siblings but his aggressiveness always seemed excessive to her.
However she had no idea the person he had become in the last few years of his absence. She would have to reserve judgement, even though she was looking at him for murder. She had to both utilize their history and not let it cloud her analysis simultaneously, which was going to be one of the hardest things overall to do in this investigation. She honestly didn't know Albrecht Wolff anymore, but she did know a few facts she had researched beforehand. Interestingly they had followed a similar trajectory, both running off to college, studying similar fields (she criminal justice, him law - he was working as a lawyer now), and moving to the city (Pittsburgh coincidentally like her), only to end up right back where they started. She was curious to hear what reasons he would give for returning and why he was sitting outside his family's restaurant like a stranger in the cold.
She finally reached him.
"So are you going in or not?" she asked him from behind the bench, moving around to stand beside him. She shoved both her hands in her barn coat pockets casually. ".... You look nervous, I can't say I've ever seen you look that way before, Al." She smiled as their eyes met, not in a mocking way but in a light teasing manner, even a little sympathetic. "Do you mind if I sit down?"
"On it!" Junsoo's dark brown locks swung over his eyes, his feet moving him from side to side behind the marbled counter top of Bellingstone's most populated bar. Despite it still being early on a Saturday, probably much too early to chug down four margaritas, it was busy. The polished wine glasses that hung over his head chimed a soft melody each and every time the door to the restaurant opened, letting in the soft breeze. Customers left just as quickly as they came, including many of the regulars that passed by just to say their hellos.
With his full attention on task, his slender fingers wrapped around a small knife, dicing the mangoes to perfection and tossing them into the blender. He measured the tequila, orange liquor and lime juice with exact precision before mixing it all together with some added sugar and ice. It had been the first morning in a long while without the presence of the regular bar customers passing by to flirt with the petite bartender. And as much as Junsoo didn't mind the flirtatious compliments often thrown his way, it felt refreshing to only have orders to worry about, rather than needing to brainstorm on the most polite ways to turn down a date offer.
He was the only one at the bar this morning, at least for the time being. Andre never failed to come by and give him a hand, but given everything that had been going on around him and his sister lately, Junsoo was more than happy to take on the full load. His eyes shifted to his cell phone, resting right beside the tequila bottles just underneath the counter. Though his hand originally reached to put the tequila bottle back in place, it moved a bit further to the right as if having a mind of it's own, picking up the small device. And yes, he knew better than to be messing on his phone during a busy morning such as this, but he also knew Dre enough to know that the guy hadn't taken a day to himself in much too long and way overdue. Nor would he, unless someone forced him to. Granted, that most likely would not be Junsoo, but he could sure as hell try.
To: Dre
MSG: How's my favorite boss doin' today? Why don't you take the day off? I can hold down the fort on my own and you could use some R&R. ^^
The send button was pressed and Junsoo watched as his phone navigated back to it's home screen before going completely black and being placed back on the wooden shelf. It had become a habit lately for Jun to check up on the Clarke's about as often as he checked up on the pack members. Sure, he was more than aware that they didn't need him to do so, but he of all people knew what it felt like to loose your family members in the blink of an eye. Maybe all Jun could do was to offer a small amount of comfort, but even that would be more than enough for the small wolf.
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R O M A NXB L A K E
_____ T H EXH E I R____
Outfit: Link Here
Location: Bellingstone Airport - Escape Bar & Grill
Dialogue Color ✦ #E5ABC3
Thought Color ✧ #d984a7
Music blared over the headphones of a brunet, who sat on one of the five seats on a private airplane. He was paying more attention to his phone than the things happening around him, awaiting the response from a friend who could help him with his music, maybe help him get a job teaching some music classes. He'd have to get a teaching degree, but he didn't mind it. He was good in school when he attended. Cerulean eyes looked up from the device to see the plane landing, and his sisters, Rose and Raleigh, laughing.
The male would reach up to his headphones and take them off before they began to talk to him. "Roman, you do realize we haven't been around Dad for a few hours now? You don't have to lock yourself in your phone," Raleigh spoke. Roman did feel bad for it, but he was just trying to hurry the process of him getting home. Time flew when you weren't paying attention.
But they also understood, Roman and his father never really had a good relationship with each other.
It had never been really good, Roman always preferred his mother. The male would shake his head ending his thoughts and smile slightly towards his sister. "Yeah, but sometimes you and Rosy tend to bore me with your conversation about what boy you think is cute. And you both know Junsoo's the cutest in town so, there really isn't much to argue about," he laughed as he put his sunglasses over his eyes. Placing his beanie on his head, his sisters started to poke fun about his small crush on Junsoo. The two were good friends, and Roman just happened to find his friend attractive. Especially when he was dancing. "Oh, so is that why you wanted to get home so fast? So you can see your boyfriend?," the woman spoke with a smile.
Rolling his eyes, he would grab his one bag, and put his headphones around his neck. He would wait to be fully landed, and walk off of the plane, giving thank yous to the pilot. After getting the small amount of luggage he had, he would wait for his car to be pulled up. After it was, he would step in, and begin to drive to Escape Bar & Grill, for some drinks. Before he got too far from the airport, he would send a quick text to Junsoo.
To:June♡
MSG: Hey, I'm back in town. I'm heading to the grill for some drinks before seeing my mom, you at work?
The male would reach up to his headphones and take them off before they began to talk to him. "Roman, you do realize we haven't been around Dad for a few hours now? You don't have to lock yourself in your phone," Raleigh spoke. Roman did feel bad for it, but he was just trying to hurry the process of him getting home. Time flew when you weren't paying attention.
But they also understood, Roman and his father never really had a good relationship with each other.
It had never been really good, Roman always preferred his mother. The male would shake his head ending his thoughts and smile slightly towards his sister. "Yeah, but sometimes you and Rosy tend to bore me with your conversation about what boy you think is cute. And you both know Junsoo's the cutest in town so, there really isn't much to argue about," he laughed as he put his sunglasses over his eyes. Placing his beanie on his head, his sisters started to poke fun about his small crush on Junsoo. The two were good friends, and Roman just happened to find his friend attractive. Especially when he was dancing. "Oh, so is that why you wanted to get home so fast? So you can see your boyfriend?," the woman spoke with a smile.
Rolling his eyes, he would grab his one bag, and put his headphones around his neck. He would wait to be fully landed, and walk off of the plane, giving thank yous to the pilot. After getting the small amount of luggage he had, he would wait for his car to be pulled up. After it was, he would step in, and begin to drive to Escape Bar & Grill, for some drinks. Before he got too far from the airport, he would send a quick text to Junsoo.
To:June♡
MSG: Hey, I'm back in town. I'm heading to the grill for some drinks before seeing my mom, you at work?
Sʏᴅɴᴇʏ Gʀᴇᴇɴ
Saturday. That's what day it was and while she could be spending her time doing something else, she was at the diner as usual beside Axel. Sydney could not help but let out a soft groan at the thought as she wiped down the counter she was just leaning down on. Sydney groaned again as she eyed Axel with an expressionless face then folded the now damped towel and laid it down on the counter. A few more customers walked in as she grabbed her notepad and pen then waltzed over towards them with a smile and a greeting. She asked the customers to follow her towards a table and seated them at separate tables and booths then got their orders, just as she looked over and saw Axel spill water onto a customer.
That smile she had plastered upon her face went away whenever she saw the display then saw him head back into the kitchen. Knowing Sydney, she wanted to say something right then and there as she took the customers their drinks first then went back to retrieve their orders, handing it to them with a thanks then told them to let her know if they needed anything.
While she tried to remain somewhat happy for the day, she honestly could not with the rumors that she's been hearing as of late. Albrecht had returned to Bellingstone and was lurking around somewhere but if that was the case, why hasn't he exactly reached out towards his own brother, Axel, anything of the pack members or more importantly, herself. It was definitely something she did not want to think about right now but those thoughts shrouded her mind, no doubt.
Axel came back out of the kitchen as she eyed him again, taking the glass of water from his hand and holding into hers now. "I got this." Sydney could tell that something was bothering Axel but she wondered if what bothering him was the same thing that was bothering her. She gave the new glass of water to the customer that was waiting for it then went back behind the counter and stood beside Axel now, exhaling a sigh as she leaned down beside him now.
"Something's not right here, Axel. I can't help but to feel that way and I know you feel the same way." Sydney remarked towards him as she rested her hand upon his back now, shooting a soft smile his way. "Let's just get through the day." She muttered towards him in a comforting tone as she took her apron off for a moment then laid it down on the counter. "I am going to go and check the mailbox." She mentioned as she walked towards the door then turned towards him now. "Try not to spill anything else on anyone else until I get back."
Sydney left after those words as she hoped to herself that it caused Axel to smile or laugh, just to brighten up his day a little bit. As she walked to the side of the building where the mailbox was located, she seen three envelopes inside as she scanned through them then walked back inside as she sat the envelopes underneath the counter and placed her apron back around her waist as she huffed slightly.
"What are we to do if Albrecht is back? Hm?" She questioned towards Axel as she just really wanted to know how he felt upon hearing about Albrecht's return.
That smile she had plastered upon her face went away whenever she saw the display then saw him head back into the kitchen. Knowing Sydney, she wanted to say something right then and there as she took the customers their drinks first then went back to retrieve their orders, handing it to them with a thanks then told them to let her know if they needed anything.
While she tried to remain somewhat happy for the day, she honestly could not with the rumors that she's been hearing as of late. Albrecht had returned to Bellingstone and was lurking around somewhere but if that was the case, why hasn't he exactly reached out towards his own brother, Axel, anything of the pack members or more importantly, herself. It was definitely something she did not want to think about right now but those thoughts shrouded her mind, no doubt.
Axel came back out of the kitchen as she eyed him again, taking the glass of water from his hand and holding into hers now. "I got this." Sydney could tell that something was bothering Axel but she wondered if what bothering him was the same thing that was bothering her. She gave the new glass of water to the customer that was waiting for it then went back behind the counter and stood beside Axel now, exhaling a sigh as she leaned down beside him now.
"Something's not right here, Axel. I can't help but to feel that way and I know you feel the same way." Sydney remarked towards him as she rested her hand upon his back now, shooting a soft smile his way. "Let's just get through the day." She muttered towards him in a comforting tone as she took her apron off for a moment then laid it down on the counter. "I am going to go and check the mailbox." She mentioned as she walked towards the door then turned towards him now. "Try not to spill anything else on anyone else until I get back."
Sydney left after those words as she hoped to herself that it caused Axel to smile or laugh, just to brighten up his day a little bit. As she walked to the side of the building where the mailbox was located, she seen three envelopes inside as she scanned through them then walked back inside as she sat the envelopes underneath the counter and placed her apron back around her waist as she huffed slightly.
"What are we to do if Albrecht is back? Hm?" She questioned towards Axel as she just really wanted to know how he felt upon hearing about Albrecht's return.
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P O P P YXC L A R K E
_____ T H EXA R T I S T_____
Outfit: Link Here
Location: Poppy Clarke's Condo
Dialogue Color ✦ #E8ADAA
Thought Color ✧ #985D5A
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_____ T H EXP R O T E C T O R_____
Outfit: Link Here
Location: Poppy Clarke's Condo
Dialogue Color ✦ #DEB887
Thought Color ✧ #8E6837
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P O P P YXC L A R K E
_____ T H EXA R T I S T_____
Outfit: Link Here
Location: Poppy Clarke's Condo
Dialogue Color ✦ #E8ADAA
Thought Color ✧ #985D5A
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_____ T H EXP R O T E C T O R_____
Outfit: Link Here
Location: Poppy Clarke's Condo
Dialogue Color ✦ #DEB887
Thought Color ✧ #8E6837
Contrary to her earlier antics, Poppy cleaned her plate, finishing quicker than her brother even. It was probably more a testament to how pensive (and secretly tired) the older Clarke sibling was. With only really giving himself two days to focus on the family in their time of grief, Andre had also managed to do shifts at the bar, keep up to date with those finances and stocks, and planned the funeral - completing all of which as if they were nothing when in reality, Andre was more than likely going to wind up running himself ragged. It was always his desire to keep up appearances that did him in, Poppy mused as she slipped off of her seat and into the kitchen, putting her dishes in the lukewarm sudsy water along with the rest of the unwashed dishes he had used to cook the dish. Knowing her brother, he had already placed whatever leftovers there were of the hash and put them in some container for dinner.
"Maybe you should just take the day off," Poppy called from the kitchen, idly pushing up her sleeves and getting to work on the dishes. If she didn't start now and get it finished, she never would. It was the worst part about cooking. Her voice startled Andre out of his reverie, though she didn't see it his blink of surprise. He hadn't even realized he had paused; the food he thought to have been on his folk had plopped back onto the plate, a small clump beside the corner of hash he had left. Shaking his head, Andre chugged nearly all of what was left of his coffee, set the mug down and replied after a strong swallow, "Nah, I'm good. Probably just do a few hours, then I'll go finish up packing his stuff at town hall." Poppy didn't bother stopping herself from making a face, but she didn't turn around to grace his words with it. "Or...I could do it." Andre looked up at that, taking a large mouthful of food to expedite the process. His appetite had slowly begun to dwindle after his sister's earlier suspicions had been said, and though he asked her to let it be, Andre couldn't get the odd feeling in his gut to go away. He kept picturing his father's dead body in the morgue, pale and lifeless, all of the blood drained. Andre had always been prepared for the day his father died; never wanted it, but knew he had to school his features and his heart to keep it pushing. But still, there had been something disconcerting about it all at the time; the actual timing of the death, the coroner's report, the whispers of certain people's returns, etc. However, before he could dignify his sister's offer with the response he already had ready in the negative, his phone vibrated and Andre pulled it out, smirking lightly upon seeing who it was from.
To: June
Yeah, not happening, thanx tho ;D c u in a bit
"Who's that? Auntie CC again?" Poppy inquired, placing the large wok into the drying rack before turning around, tea towel in hand. "June with, apparently, the same mindset as you," he answered once his text to the bartender was served. A small smile flitted across Poppy's face at the thought of the sweet nice guy who made the best mimosas in Bellingstone. As much as her colleagues liked the sniff their noses at the idea of coming over to some small town that was slightly bigger than your run-of-the-mill small town, Poppy would go to war over proving how good those mimosas were. "Which means we're both geniuses and you need to listen to us." Poppy threw the tea towel down and took two big steps to the counter her brother was still seated at, standing on the side opposite to the male. He was at her height at the moment, which made her placing her hands flat on the white surface as she stared him down. "Listen, if you wanna go to work, I won't stop you. I hope June cusses you out for not letting yourself be human for once and take a chill day, but whatever. Let me worry about Dad's office today. I'll have everything cleared out in no time." Andre stared, expressionless, for a beat and Poppy thought they were going to wind up having to argue since Andre was more of a control freak than she was. A second later, however, and her brother sighed, weary, and broke eye contact. "If you think you've got it." Poppy had to stop herself from snorting.
"They're boxes, Dre. I'll be fine," she told him, already heading out of the kitchen. "Don't forget to put your dishes in the sink before you leave." She didn't bother looking back. Soon, she was stalking down the hallway in long strides, eager to do absolutely anything other than nothing. She'd been doing that for long enough, regardless of what her boss or brother had to say. As Poppy went to find shoes for the day, she scooped up her phone from her nightstand, reaching out to the first friend she felt like dealing with since her father's passing. She had eventually learned to accept everyone's condolences, but at the time, Poppy just hadn't wanted to be bothered. She considered the others, but Ellis was a safe and nice option. He didn't have as many memories as the others.
To: Ellis
Hey you! <3 Wanna link up later? Got some stuff to clean up first tho
"Maybe you should just take the day off," Poppy called from the kitchen, idly pushing up her sleeves and getting to work on the dishes. If she didn't start now and get it finished, she never would. It was the worst part about cooking. Her voice startled Andre out of his reverie, though she didn't see it his blink of surprise. He hadn't even realized he had paused; the food he thought to have been on his folk had plopped back onto the plate, a small clump beside the corner of hash he had left. Shaking his head, Andre chugged nearly all of what was left of his coffee, set the mug down and replied after a strong swallow, "Nah, I'm good. Probably just do a few hours, then I'll go finish up packing his stuff at town hall." Poppy didn't bother stopping herself from making a face, but she didn't turn around to grace his words with it. "Or...I could do it." Andre looked up at that, taking a large mouthful of food to expedite the process. His appetite had slowly begun to dwindle after his sister's earlier suspicions had been said, and though he asked her to let it be, Andre couldn't get the odd feeling in his gut to go away. He kept picturing his father's dead body in the morgue, pale and lifeless, all of the blood drained. Andre had always been prepared for the day his father died; never wanted it, but knew he had to school his features and his heart to keep it pushing. But still, there had been something disconcerting about it all at the time; the actual timing of the death, the coroner's report, the whispers of certain people's returns, etc. However, before he could dignify his sister's offer with the response he already had ready in the negative, his phone vibrated and Andre pulled it out, smirking lightly upon seeing who it was from.
To: June
Yeah, not happening, thanx tho ;D c u in a bit
"Who's that? Auntie CC again?" Poppy inquired, placing the large wok into the drying rack before turning around, tea towel in hand. "June with, apparently, the same mindset as you," he answered once his text to the bartender was served. A small smile flitted across Poppy's face at the thought of the sweet nice guy who made the best mimosas in Bellingstone. As much as her colleagues liked the sniff their noses at the idea of coming over to some small town that was slightly bigger than your run-of-the-mill small town, Poppy would go to war over proving how good those mimosas were. "Which means we're both geniuses and you need to listen to us." Poppy threw the tea towel down and took two big steps to the counter her brother was still seated at, standing on the side opposite to the male. He was at her height at the moment, which made her placing her hands flat on the white surface as she stared him down. "Listen, if you wanna go to work, I won't stop you. I hope June cusses you out for not letting yourself be human for once and take a chill day, but whatever. Let me worry about Dad's office today. I'll have everything cleared out in no time." Andre stared, expressionless, for a beat and Poppy thought they were going to wind up having to argue since Andre was more of a control freak than she was. A second later, however, and her brother sighed, weary, and broke eye contact. "If you think you've got it." Poppy had to stop herself from snorting.
"They're boxes, Dre. I'll be fine," she told him, already heading out of the kitchen. "Don't forget to put your dishes in the sink before you leave." She didn't bother looking back. Soon, she was stalking down the hallway in long strides, eager to do absolutely anything other than nothing. She'd been doing that for long enough, regardless of what her boss or brother had to say. As Poppy went to find shoes for the day, she scooped up her phone from her nightstand, reaching out to the first friend she felt like dealing with since her father's passing. She had eventually learned to accept everyone's condolences, but at the time, Poppy just hadn't wanted to be bothered. She considered the others, but Ellis was a safe and nice option. He didn't have as many memories as the others.
To: Ellis
Hey you! <3 Wanna link up later? Got some stuff to clean up first tho
ALBRECHT WOLFF
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Downtown Bellingstone
#735a75
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Albrecht had lost himself in his thoughts quite quickly. Playing out scenarios in his mind had quickly taken precedent over the actual quandary at hand. Interestingly enough, each of his scenarios managed to play out well. Axel never yelled at him or seemed angry - quite the opposite, in fact, for Axel appeared to rejoice in each scenario. Mom and Dad were there, and they greeted their son with open embraces.
But he still sat on the bench, his perfectionist nature attempting to plan the best possible entrance. Would it be casual or over-the-top? Would he act as though he had always been there, like nothing had changed?
He was startled out of his thoughts as a voice piped up behind him. Al felt the skin prick along the back of his neck as he turned first one way and then the other, coming face to face with the petite woman. Something about her was painfully familiar. Beneath layers of scent, artificial and acquired over time, he could pick up something vaguely reminiscent of childhood. Obviously she knew him though, for she addressed him not only by name, but by his nickname.
Al fidgeted slightly, pursing his lips as he struggled to find her name. So intent was he in attempting to name her that he almost missed her question.
"Oh, yeah," he replied suddenly, sliding to one side of the bench to make room for her beside his looming figure. "Nervous? Nah, just deciding how best to go about the whole 'family reunion thing'." Al looked back to her now, brow furrowing once more before his face lit up. "Carrie! Little Carrie Pryderi, after all of these years?" Al beamed down at her, simultaneously glad to find a familiar face and a little too proud of himself for identifying her. "You look well - Bellingstone's treated you nicely these past few years."
Though he certainly was interested in catching up with her, he did hope that his redirection of the conversation would get her off of his case. For he certainly was nervous, though he wouldn't acknowledge it. He couldn't necessarily tell why, however, but there was a tension that lingered in the air. But then that tension took shape.
He caught her scent before he saw her - time hadn't changed her much at all. Sydney was the same woman he had known all of those years ago - the woman he had loved. "Syd..." he breathed softly as she left the diner and walked to the mailbox. Albrecht could have run to her in that moment - but she disappeared before he could even gather his bearings. And besides, it would reflect poorly on him if he ran off in the middle of a conversation.
But he still sat on the bench, his perfectionist nature attempting to plan the best possible entrance. Would it be casual or over-the-top? Would he act as though he had always been there, like nothing had changed?
He was startled out of his thoughts as a voice piped up behind him. Al felt the skin prick along the back of his neck as he turned first one way and then the other, coming face to face with the petite woman. Something about her was painfully familiar. Beneath layers of scent, artificial and acquired over time, he could pick up something vaguely reminiscent of childhood. Obviously she knew him though, for she addressed him not only by name, but by his nickname.
Al fidgeted slightly, pursing his lips as he struggled to find her name. So intent was he in attempting to name her that he almost missed her question.
"Oh, yeah," he replied suddenly, sliding to one side of the bench to make room for her beside his looming figure. "Nervous? Nah, just deciding how best to go about the whole 'family reunion thing'." Al looked back to her now, brow furrowing once more before his face lit up. "Carrie! Little Carrie Pryderi, after all of these years?" Al beamed down at her, simultaneously glad to find a familiar face and a little too proud of himself for identifying her. "You look well - Bellingstone's treated you nicely these past few years."
Though he certainly was interested in catching up with her, he did hope that his redirection of the conversation would get her off of his case. For he certainly was nervous, though he wouldn't acknowledge it. He couldn't necessarily tell why, however, but there was a tension that lingered in the air. But then that tension took shape.
He caught her scent before he saw her - time hadn't changed her much at all. Sydney was the same woman he had known all of those years ago - the woman he had loved. "Syd..." he breathed softly as she left the diner and walked to the mailbox. Albrecht could have run to her in that moment - but she disappeared before he could even gather his bearings. And besides, it would reflect poorly on him if he ran off in the middle of a conversation.
His dark eyes dash from a duo of biters sitting in the corner of the restaurant to his phone screen the moment the device chimes with the notification of a message, immediately followed by another. Having been too concentrated on the vampires, his heart had done a minor back flip at the noise, now pumping his blood at twice the speed. It’s been years since his family has been killed, and yet the bloodsuckers still manage to make his skin crawl and his chest tighten. Yes, tt’s cowardly of him, as the Beta, but it’s also unfortunately something he can’t control. At least not yet. He let’s a slow exhale leave him before tending to the received messages, responding to Roman first with a soft smile. But it quickly vanishes the second Andre’s response comes into view.
To: Ro
MSG: it’s about time! Yeah, I’m here. Hurry your ass over here so I can welcome you back properly ^^
He decides to not respond to Andre, but just push him right back out the door instead the moment he walks in. Andre can be very hard-headed, that much is clear to Junsoo but two can play at that game and his boss needs to learn to look out for himself and his own well-being from time to time. Jun is almost tempted to hit him with the “don’t you trust me?” line, even if he already knows the answer. It’s not a question of trust, it’s a matter of Dre needing to realize he can’t do everything on his own. He’s certain Poppy has tried to get that through his head more than once, but there’s strength in numbers and Andre can’t fight two against one for very long.
So Jun sets the phone aside for a moment, waiting for either Roman or Andre to step through the door for their personalized greeting, but almost immediately picks it up again to send one more message. One he should have sent long ago.
To: Syd ♡
MSG: Hey…are you okay?
Surely she would have heard the news by now, and knowing her, she isn’t taking it very lightly. It was already a jam-packed day for the small wolf, but if one of his best friends and pack members needed him, he would just have to make some time. The phone is set down again, this time for good, as a familiar voice calls for his attention. Almond eyes lift in it’s direction and a shy smile quickly makes its home on his face. There’s a familiar face to match the voice, of one of the bar’s most loyal customers who “came for the drinks, stayed doe the bartender” as the man had once said himself. The man flashed Junsoo his usual charm as he made himself comfortable at the bar stool, while Jun silently hoped someone would show as a much needed interuption.
CARWYN PRYDERI
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Downtown Bellingstone
#395673
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Inwardly Carrie balked at how foolhardy he was to think walking into the diner unannounced for a “family reunion” was going to go over well. Maybe he hadn't changed that much after all, the only difference was he might have gotten an even bigger head if that was possible. She took a seat next to him in the space he had made for her.
“Actually, I haven't spent much time here the last few years, I've come back recently same as you…” She said crossing her legs and interlocking her fingers over her knee. He was obviously not engaged in the conversation and she followed his eyes across the street to where Sydney was walking down the sidewalk.
The stunning blonde was Albrecht's shafted fiancee and now Alpha female of the Bellingstone pack. She could tell by Albrecht's longing gaze that perhaps not all his feelings had dissipated for her, though she wondered if he still really thought things would go back to the way they were before he left. As she disappeared back into the diner, Carrie spoke up again.
“You know, Axel’s been running the pack for some time now. And from what I heard, everyone's been quite happy with how things are.” She said, “don't you think your presence might just… I don't know… stir things up a bit?”
She eyed him sideways.
“Actually, I haven't spent much time here the last few years, I've come back recently same as you…” She said crossing her legs and interlocking her fingers over her knee. He was obviously not engaged in the conversation and she followed his eyes across the street to where Sydney was walking down the sidewalk.
The stunning blonde was Albrecht's shafted fiancee and now Alpha female of the Bellingstone pack. She could tell by Albrecht's longing gaze that perhaps not all his feelings had dissipated for her, though she wondered if he still really thought things would go back to the way they were before he left. As she disappeared back into the diner, Carrie spoke up again.
“You know, Axel’s been running the pack for some time now. And from what I heard, everyone's been quite happy with how things are.” She said, “don't you think your presence might just… I don't know… stir things up a bit?”
She eyed him sideways.
MARION MCWARD
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Bellingstone Creek
#0c2945
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Marion pulled up to the Escape Bar and Grill and sat in his car for a moment gathering his bearings. He wasn't very fond of this place, it attracted too many biters and as much as Andre and Oscar tried to keep it low-key, there were of course the occasional brawls outside that the police were called to break up. It was only late morning and already the place was packed. That was probably the real reason why he disliked it most, was all the people, too many for his liking. It was Saturday so undoubtedly it would be like this all day, there would be no quieter time to come back.
The grizzled old Irishman groaned as he opened his door and shifted out of his vehicle. He mosied on into the bar, having to stop just inside so his eyes could adjust to the darkness. As they did, he surveyed the crowd. Two biters sat in the corner, taking refuge from the daylight outside. Somehow he seemed to recognize supernatural creatures whenever he saw them. Many years of civil service had taught him to be observant, and he had come to learn over the years the indicators for many different species. The biters, besides their vaguely morose presence, also tended to not blink a whole lot and look slightly waxen.
He gave the two vampires a knowing and suspicious look, and they returned his look with a smirk, raising their glasses to him. Pretentious arseholes. It was maybe a little hypocritical and unfair of him to be so suspicious of their kind. His species after all also had a bad reputation for not being the most friendly creatures either. Seducing humans and dragging them to the bottom of the ocean was not much better than draining them of all their blood. Yet there was a real disconnect between Marion and his kind, since he really hadn't spent much time with them and had led a very different life from any that he knew.
Marion dodged people and scooted between chairs until he got to the bar where Junsoo Moon was tending to customers. The meek Beta of Bellingstone shuffled back and forth behind the counter, swiftly taking orders and expertly serving them. Marion sat down on one of the stools. Already he was feeling drained from all the crowd around him and he hadn't even gotten to the person he was here to talk to.
He fiddled with the sapphire ring on his wedding finger, turning it and turning it, until Junsoo Moon finally got to him.
"Just a shot of scotch for me." he told Jun. He wouldn't normally drink, especially not on the job, but he was feeling more tense than usual.
"Say kid, is your boss in? Mr. Stein?" he asked him.
The grizzled old Irishman groaned as he opened his door and shifted out of his vehicle. He mosied on into the bar, having to stop just inside so his eyes could adjust to the darkness. As they did, he surveyed the crowd. Two biters sat in the corner, taking refuge from the daylight outside. Somehow he seemed to recognize supernatural creatures whenever he saw them. Many years of civil service had taught him to be observant, and he had come to learn over the years the indicators for many different species. The biters, besides their vaguely morose presence, also tended to not blink a whole lot and look slightly waxen.
He gave the two vampires a knowing and suspicious look, and they returned his look with a smirk, raising their glasses to him. Pretentious arseholes. It was maybe a little hypocritical and unfair of him to be so suspicious of their kind. His species after all also had a bad reputation for not being the most friendly creatures either. Seducing humans and dragging them to the bottom of the ocean was not much better than draining them of all their blood. Yet there was a real disconnect between Marion and his kind, since he really hadn't spent much time with them and had led a very different life from any that he knew.
Marion dodged people and scooted between chairs until he got to the bar where Junsoo Moon was tending to customers. The meek Beta of Bellingstone shuffled back and forth behind the counter, swiftly taking orders and expertly serving them. Marion sat down on one of the stools. Already he was feeling drained from all the crowd around him and he hadn't even gotten to the person he was here to talk to.
He fiddled with the sapphire ring on his wedding finger, turning it and turning it, until Junsoo Moon finally got to him.
"Just a shot of scotch for me." he told Jun. He wouldn't normally drink, especially not on the job, but he was feeling more tense than usual.
"Say kid, is your boss in? Mr. Stein?" he asked him.
”…all she can see is a sea of stars in front of her. Just an eerie sort of blackness, you know? And there’s a faint music swirling up from somewhere in the depths of it all, along with some amorphous blobs she can’t quite make out. And that’s how chapter eight will end. Is that alright?”
This morning in Bellingstone found Ellis pacing the floors of his kitchen, bare feet plodding a repetitious path over the linoleum. He had a tendency to walk when he spoke on the phone, too anxious as a person and too enthusiastic about what he was saying to even consider standing still.
He was speaking into his old cellphone, one so ancient in the fast terms of modern technology that it probably predated even the dated flip phone, his tone soft and tired but lined with sparks of excitement. In his other hand he held a cup of iced tea, sickeningly sweet in a way that only a true Southerner could stand to enjoy, which he gestured with enthusiastically and sporadically.
“I don’t know, Ellis. Is it alright?” the voice on the other end of the line hummed almost instantly, more teasing than critical. “Isn’t that a bit too weird? Will people really like that?”
“Weird?” Ellis sounded wounded, despite the tone. The tea in his glass sloshed around as he slumped against his refrigerator. It was a bit dramatic as far as gestures go, but it's not like anyone was there to judge him for it. “Really? I… Well, I thought it was a bit weird, sure, but maybe… God, Mary, if I cut that part, I’m going to have to change the book’s ending, and-”
Thick, warm laughter erupted from his phone, and his pitiful frown turned into a scowl. Oh, right. He'd forgotten who he was speaking to. When having a conversation with Mary Carter, you had to understand that there was always a target on your back for her teasing, sharp words.
“Oh, ha, ha, Mary. Laugh it up. Gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”
“Oh, don’t be like that. You know better than to say things like ‘is that alright’ to me, like you’re not a published author. Stop pretending you're not brilliant, idiot,” Mary replied fondly. Ellis wasn't quite sure how she came under the impression that he wasn't a hapless idiot because, in all reality, he was. He was a self-conscious weirdo about everything he did. Honestly, sometimes he was anxious about his own breathing, wondering if it was too loud in public or over the phone. Take that general anxiety and multiply it by about hundred, and you were left with how he felt about his own writing. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop and for the world to figure out that he was a hack. There was no other way to explain his good luck and success other than as a cruel practical joke by some deity (with his luck it was probably one of the asshole gods too, like Loki or Hera).
"You've made some good progress though, Ellis. Especially after everything." Her tone dropped down, suddenly worried and sympathetic. "How are you really feeling Ellis? Is there anything I can do for you?"
How was Ellis feeling? Confused, conflicted, angry, sad, desperate, tired... A whole menagerie of unpleasant emotions on top of the dull ache and occasional sharp sting that knitted itself through his shoulder and back at the most inopportune moments. But he couldn't say that, couldn't get into anything even nearing the truth. He'd fed Mary and anyone else who asked a story about a wildcat attack, and they believed it well enough. Why wouldn't they? Bizarre things tended to follow Ellis like a plague. It was no more difficult to believe than the time he'd gotten trapped in a wall trying to get a squirrel out of his house or when a lamb had tried to pick a fight with him.
That a mountain lion had been near a small town and eager to harass Ellis was easier to believe than the reality, anyways, although it had been all he could do to keep Mary and his parents from taking Bellingstone by storm to drag off their wayward writer. He couldn't see any of them right now, no matter how desperate he was for some familiar company. Everything was still too new, and it was all he could do to adjust on his own without the pressure of over-doting friends and family. It honestly made him uncomfortable when people worried about him too much. It wasn't that he didn't understand the desire because he worried about himself all of the time. It was just a bit unsettling that people actually cared enough.
"You could let me take a break to work on my chapter on kelpies," Ellis said, trying to force his tired voice into something light-hearted. No need to make Mary even more worried than she was. "In fact, the book that I've been trying to find- you know, The Water People? The one that's been out of print since 1850? Bellingstone's library actually has a copy. God knows how, but they do. I'll be stopping by later today to take a look at it." Or maybe it wasn't too terribly amazing. That they had a copy of an old book was hardly the most surprising thing about a library run by an unnervingly attractive vampire (vampires. Ha. Good thing he hadn't tried to write any books on those or he'd be too embarrassed to ever venture out to the local library).
"You're going out? On your own? Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Mary laughed.
"Honestly, Mary. I can be social if I want. In fact, if you must know, I may be seeing some acquaintances of mine later," Ellis said loftily. He knew he was laying it on a bit thick, but Mary seemed far too amused by the idea of him willingly socializing to go back to her concerned questions.
"Is it the dishy diner guy? Please tell me it's the dishy diner guy."
Ellis rolled his eyes. "I said Axel was handsome once, Mary. Once. When I was drugged out on painkillers and God knows what else. Besides, the man's got half the town running after his tail-" he snorted a little at his own secret pun, "and he's not exactly my type."
"And what is your type, then?" asked Mary.
"Well, someone I'm certain isn't completely straight, for one." The two burst into laughter, finally back to a more companionable conversation. Smooth, Ellis. He deserved an award for that crafty misdirection. He couldn't tell her his other objections, anyways. It's a bit difficult to explain dynamics like Alpha Wolves and Pack Leaders when one can't even bring up the whole werewolf thing.
"But, no. I was... Actually considering popping in at the, uh, the diner. I need to go grocery shopping and, well, you know... And then, ah, maybe texting the girl I met in the classics section. Poppy? I know we've only known each for such a little while, but after everything that's happening around here, I guess... Well, I mean to say-"
"That's sweet that you're worried about her. I'm sure she'd appreciate you checking in, even if it's just a text." Ellis could practically feel her approval over the phone.
"You don't think it would be too weird? Like I'm sticking my nose into someone else's business?" asked Ellis, biting his bottom lip. He wasn't exactly the best at socializing, but Poppy had been one of the few people outside of the Pack who'd bothered speaking with him so far, even with everything that had happened to her recently.
"Sweetie, if anyone thought that, you'd be better off not being friends with them anyways."
There was a moment of contented silence before Ellis heard a knocking on Mary's side of the phone followed by a muffled conversation.
"Oh, sorry, Ellis," Mary said after a moment. "Pete's summoning me for brunch. He sends his love, by the way."
"Sure he does." Despite the sarcasm dripping from his words, Ellis was sure Pete- practical, sweet Pete who kept both his wife Mary and adopted problem-friend Ellis in check when their combined idiosyncrasies threatened to burn the world around them- had actually said that verbatim. He was just that kind of guy. "And tell him I send mine."
"Will do. Enjoy your day of nerdlyness and socializing, you dork."
"Enjoy your brunch, basic white girl."
Ellis hung up first, fighting back a yawn. He hadn't slept much last night, too busy trying to play catch-up on his books to even consider taking a break to sleep. It was a bit ironic, honestly, that he'd come to Bellingstone for a bit of peace and quiet while he wrote and had wound up spending most of his time licking his own wounds (metaphorically, of course. Well, at least in his human form) and trying to even vaguely comprehend the reality that many of the people around him, including himself, weren't quite human. Or human at all, in some cases.
His eyes darted over to the clock above his kitchen table, and a dull sort of anxiety settled in his stomach. Should he leave the house today? He didn't have to, technically. It wasn't like his library book was going to go anywhere, and he was sure he had enough snacks in the pantry to keep him fed for awhile longer. Plus, he'd never actually told anything in the pack that he'd stop by today, and Poppy surely had other things to worry about. Not to mention the fact that there was no Pack meeting that he knew of...
No. He wouldn't fall into that trap again. Whether he liked it or not, Bellingstone was his home for the time being, at least until his rental period was up and he got used to the whole werewolf thing, and goodness knows how long that would take. He should at least attempt to be polite, even if that meant stepping out of his comfort zone.
With all of the determination he could muster, he finished his tea and wandered into his bedroom to get ready. Today was a comfort day, he realized, bypassing the interestingly patterned scarves and shirts in favor of broken-in jeans and a soft gray t-shirt. He hesitated for a moment, eying his bedroom mirror before pulling on an olive green jacket. While it wasn't a cold day, he could still see the raw, red scarring poking out from his sleeve, an aching, menacing reminder. He couldn't, he just couldn't-
Ellis took a wobbly breath, slipping on his shoes and running a hand through his hair. Good enough. It wasn't like he had anyone to impress (besides, his mind unhelpfully supplied, everybody he saw). If he thought about it anymore, he might not leave the house after all.
The nice thing about Bellingstone was that it was possible to walk just about anywhere you wanted to go if you had a bit of time, and the Escape Bar and Grill was no exception, even if Ellis had only been there once or twice before. The town itself was lovely too, scenic in a way that had Ellis a bit homesick for his mountainous hometown. Well, the nature bit, not the people bit. At least in Bellingstone he had a fifty-fifty chance of not being recognized as that one guy who got attacked by a wild animal on his first night in town.
That being said, fifty-fifty still wasn't the best odds. He pulled out his phone, more to pretend to be busy and avoid conversation with others wandering about the town today. One could only imagine his surprise when his phone let out a sudden ring, one of those stock ringtones that had once been annoying but was now almost unbearable with Ellis's enhanced hearing. He fumbled with the device, pulling up the text screen with a few clumsy movements.
From: Poppy
Hey you! <3 Wanna link up later? Got some stuff to clean up first tho
Ellis blinked for a moment, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk before a small but entirely sincere smile tugged on his lips. Poppy had insisted on exchanging phone numbers with him the second time they'd met, and she'd quickly shown herself to be charm and genuine warmth itself. They hadn't seen each other much since Ellis had arrived in Bellingstone, their conversations fluctuating with certain events that had rocked their respective lives within the past month. He'd never been quite sure if it was a misguided attempt at kindness or an actual desire to speak with him that had prompted her to actually pursue a conversation with him, but he was grateful for whatever it was. The Pack was... nice, but they were overbearing in a very real way. Poppy was outside of that, a sanctuary of something a little normal (well, more normal than most of them) in this very odd town.
To: Poppy
Hello, Poppy. I would love to. Tell me when and where, and I'll be there.
He typed every word out in a slow, painstaking way, more to do with his technological ineptitude than his mounting hesitation. He paused for a moment before adding-
To: Poppy
I promise I didn't mean for that to rhyme.
-just for good measure. He hit send and immediately tucked his phone away. It was easier not to dwell on the reply that may or may not come if he wasn't keeping an eye on his phone.
Which was when he realized that he was closer to the diner than he'd initially thought and that he certainly wasn't alone on the city street. A little ways ahead, two figures were sitting on a park bench, apparently enjoying what this Saturday had to offer. They were strangers to Ellis, which wasn't terribly surprising given his general newness to the town and the fact that the thought of interacting with strangers on purpose made him cringe.
Why was everyone in Bellingstone so damn attractive? That was Ellis's first thought when he spotted the giant of a man speaking with a sweet faced woman. It was like watching models converse, or at least models who had interesting things to say.
His second thought, however, was something more akin to, "What on Earth is that smell?"
His nostrils flared, and his steps faltered for a brief moment, eyes darting over to the man specifically. That wasn’t a scent that he’d been expecting.
It was rather embarrassing, in Ellis’s opinion, that of all of the senses that could have started to sharpen first, it had to have been his sense of smell. Maybe he’d been dreaming too big when he’d hoped for night vision or super healing, and the punishment for his hubris was having to wear a medical mask for at least a week, too overwhelmed by even the softest of scents to breathe without any sort of barrier. It had been a sad day indeed when he had had to put all of his scented candles out in his shed, their once comforting scents sickening for a time as he adjusted to his new sense of self.
He’d adjusted, in the end, and differentiating smells was easier for him now. For example, in Eliss’s mind vampires generally tended to smell a little clinical, very clean with a sharp tang of iron (there was also something else there too, like spice and old books, but that was possibly just Ivan Moreau). Werewolves, on the other hand, smelled more like the Earth, all dirt and fallen leaves as undertones to whatever other perfumes or colognes they had on. That’s what he was smelling right now, from this stranger, and that was odd indeed.
Ellis hadn’t heard about any werewolves outside of the Pack (and it was always Pack with a capital P in his mind) in Bellingstone, and, alright, he was new, but Axel had been pretty clear that he was the local Alpha Male and had failed to mention any lone wolves roaming nearby, and…
Oh, God, he was staring at them both. Ellis’s face flushed red in embarrassment. He tried to alleviate his own inherent awkwardness with a polite smile, failed when it turned into a slightly pleasant grimace, and promptly picked up his pace, attempting to pass by. Haha, pay no attention to the weird man who didn't know how to function. Oh, God, why had he left home today again? The diner, a place that filled him with many mixed emotions, was beginning to look like an absolute safe haven.
This morning in Bellingstone found Ellis pacing the floors of his kitchen, bare feet plodding a repetitious path over the linoleum. He had a tendency to walk when he spoke on the phone, too anxious as a person and too enthusiastic about what he was saying to even consider standing still.
He was speaking into his old cellphone, one so ancient in the fast terms of modern technology that it probably predated even the dated flip phone, his tone soft and tired but lined with sparks of excitement. In his other hand he held a cup of iced tea, sickeningly sweet in a way that only a true Southerner could stand to enjoy, which he gestured with enthusiastically and sporadically.
“I don’t know, Ellis. Is it alright?” the voice on the other end of the line hummed almost instantly, more teasing than critical. “Isn’t that a bit too weird? Will people really like that?”
“Weird?” Ellis sounded wounded, despite the tone. The tea in his glass sloshed around as he slumped against his refrigerator. It was a bit dramatic as far as gestures go, but it's not like anyone was there to judge him for it. “Really? I… Well, I thought it was a bit weird, sure, but maybe… God, Mary, if I cut that part, I’m going to have to change the book’s ending, and-”
Thick, warm laughter erupted from his phone, and his pitiful frown turned into a scowl. Oh, right. He'd forgotten who he was speaking to. When having a conversation with Mary Carter, you had to understand that there was always a target on your back for her teasing, sharp words.
“Oh, ha, ha, Mary. Laugh it up. Gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”
“Oh, don’t be like that. You know better than to say things like ‘is that alright’ to me, like you’re not a published author. Stop pretending you're not brilliant, idiot,” Mary replied fondly. Ellis wasn't quite sure how she came under the impression that he wasn't a hapless idiot because, in all reality, he was. He was a self-conscious weirdo about everything he did. Honestly, sometimes he was anxious about his own breathing, wondering if it was too loud in public or over the phone. Take that general anxiety and multiply it by about hundred, and you were left with how he felt about his own writing. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop and for the world to figure out that he was a hack. There was no other way to explain his good luck and success other than as a cruel practical joke by some deity (with his luck it was probably one of the asshole gods too, like Loki or Hera).
"You've made some good progress though, Ellis. Especially after everything." Her tone dropped down, suddenly worried and sympathetic. "How are you really feeling Ellis? Is there anything I can do for you?"
How was Ellis feeling? Confused, conflicted, angry, sad, desperate, tired... A whole menagerie of unpleasant emotions on top of the dull ache and occasional sharp sting that knitted itself through his shoulder and back at the most inopportune moments. But he couldn't say that, couldn't get into anything even nearing the truth. He'd fed Mary and anyone else who asked a story about a wildcat attack, and they believed it well enough. Why wouldn't they? Bizarre things tended to follow Ellis like a plague. It was no more difficult to believe than the time he'd gotten trapped in a wall trying to get a squirrel out of his house or when a lamb had tried to pick a fight with him.
That a mountain lion had been near a small town and eager to harass Ellis was easier to believe than the reality, anyways, although it had been all he could do to keep Mary and his parents from taking Bellingstone by storm to drag off their wayward writer. He couldn't see any of them right now, no matter how desperate he was for some familiar company. Everything was still too new, and it was all he could do to adjust on his own without the pressure of over-doting friends and family. It honestly made him uncomfortable when people worried about him too much. It wasn't that he didn't understand the desire because he worried about himself all of the time. It was just a bit unsettling that people actually cared enough.
"You could let me take a break to work on my chapter on kelpies," Ellis said, trying to force his tired voice into something light-hearted. No need to make Mary even more worried than she was. "In fact, the book that I've been trying to find- you know, The Water People? The one that's been out of print since 1850? Bellingstone's library actually has a copy. God knows how, but they do. I'll be stopping by later today to take a look at it." Or maybe it wasn't too terribly amazing. That they had a copy of an old book was hardly the most surprising thing about a library run by an unnervingly attractive vampire (vampires. Ha. Good thing he hadn't tried to write any books on those or he'd be too embarrassed to ever venture out to the local library).
"You're going out? On your own? Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Mary laughed.
"Honestly, Mary. I can be social if I want. In fact, if you must know, I may be seeing some acquaintances of mine later," Ellis said loftily. He knew he was laying it on a bit thick, but Mary seemed far too amused by the idea of him willingly socializing to go back to her concerned questions.
"Is it the dishy diner guy? Please tell me it's the dishy diner guy."
Ellis rolled his eyes. "I said Axel was handsome once, Mary. Once. When I was drugged out on painkillers and God knows what else. Besides, the man's got half the town running after his tail-" he snorted a little at his own secret pun, "and he's not exactly my type."
"And what is your type, then?" asked Mary.
"Well, someone I'm certain isn't completely straight, for one." The two burst into laughter, finally back to a more companionable conversation. Smooth, Ellis. He deserved an award for that crafty misdirection. He couldn't tell her his other objections, anyways. It's a bit difficult to explain dynamics like Alpha Wolves and Pack Leaders when one can't even bring up the whole werewolf thing.
"But, no. I was... Actually considering popping in at the, uh, the diner. I need to go grocery shopping and, well, you know... And then, ah, maybe texting the girl I met in the classics section. Poppy? I know we've only known each for such a little while, but after everything that's happening around here, I guess... Well, I mean to say-"
"That's sweet that you're worried about her. I'm sure she'd appreciate you checking in, even if it's just a text." Ellis could practically feel her approval over the phone.
"You don't think it would be too weird? Like I'm sticking my nose into someone else's business?" asked Ellis, biting his bottom lip. He wasn't exactly the best at socializing, but Poppy had been one of the few people outside of the Pack who'd bothered speaking with him so far, even with everything that had happened to her recently.
"Sweetie, if anyone thought that, you'd be better off not being friends with them anyways."
There was a moment of contented silence before Ellis heard a knocking on Mary's side of the phone followed by a muffled conversation.
"Oh, sorry, Ellis," Mary said after a moment. "Pete's summoning me for brunch. He sends his love, by the way."
"Sure he does." Despite the sarcasm dripping from his words, Ellis was sure Pete- practical, sweet Pete who kept both his wife Mary and adopted problem-friend Ellis in check when their combined idiosyncrasies threatened to burn the world around them- had actually said that verbatim. He was just that kind of guy. "And tell him I send mine."
"Will do. Enjoy your day of nerdlyness and socializing, you dork."
"Enjoy your brunch, basic white girl."
Ellis hung up first, fighting back a yawn. He hadn't slept much last night, too busy trying to play catch-up on his books to even consider taking a break to sleep. It was a bit ironic, honestly, that he'd come to Bellingstone for a bit of peace and quiet while he wrote and had wound up spending most of his time licking his own wounds (metaphorically, of course. Well, at least in his human form) and trying to even vaguely comprehend the reality that many of the people around him, including himself, weren't quite human. Or human at all, in some cases.
His eyes darted over to the clock above his kitchen table, and a dull sort of anxiety settled in his stomach. Should he leave the house today? He didn't have to, technically. It wasn't like his library book was going to go anywhere, and he was sure he had enough snacks in the pantry to keep him fed for awhile longer. Plus, he'd never actually told anything in the pack that he'd stop by today, and Poppy surely had other things to worry about. Not to mention the fact that there was no Pack meeting that he knew of...
No. He wouldn't fall into that trap again. Whether he liked it or not, Bellingstone was his home for the time being, at least until his rental period was up and he got used to the whole werewolf thing, and goodness knows how long that would take. He should at least attempt to be polite, even if that meant stepping out of his comfort zone.
With all of the determination he could muster, he finished his tea and wandered into his bedroom to get ready. Today was a comfort day, he realized, bypassing the interestingly patterned scarves and shirts in favor of broken-in jeans and a soft gray t-shirt. He hesitated for a moment, eying his bedroom mirror before pulling on an olive green jacket. While it wasn't a cold day, he could still see the raw, red scarring poking out from his sleeve, an aching, menacing reminder. He couldn't, he just couldn't-
Ellis took a wobbly breath, slipping on his shoes and running a hand through his hair. Good enough. It wasn't like he had anyone to impress (besides, his mind unhelpfully supplied, everybody he saw). If he thought about it anymore, he might not leave the house after all.
The nice thing about Bellingstone was that it was possible to walk just about anywhere you wanted to go if you had a bit of time, and the Escape Bar and Grill was no exception, even if Ellis had only been there once or twice before. The town itself was lovely too, scenic in a way that had Ellis a bit homesick for his mountainous hometown. Well, the nature bit, not the people bit. At least in Bellingstone he had a fifty-fifty chance of not being recognized as that one guy who got attacked by a wild animal on his first night in town.
That being said, fifty-fifty still wasn't the best odds. He pulled out his phone, more to pretend to be busy and avoid conversation with others wandering about the town today. One could only imagine his surprise when his phone let out a sudden ring, one of those stock ringtones that had once been annoying but was now almost unbearable with Ellis's enhanced hearing. He fumbled with the device, pulling up the text screen with a few clumsy movements.
From: Poppy
Hey you! <3 Wanna link up later? Got some stuff to clean up first tho
Ellis blinked for a moment, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk before a small but entirely sincere smile tugged on his lips. Poppy had insisted on exchanging phone numbers with him the second time they'd met, and she'd quickly shown herself to be charm and genuine warmth itself. They hadn't seen each other much since Ellis had arrived in Bellingstone, their conversations fluctuating with certain events that had rocked their respective lives within the past month. He'd never been quite sure if it was a misguided attempt at kindness or an actual desire to speak with him that had prompted her to actually pursue a conversation with him, but he was grateful for whatever it was. The Pack was... nice, but they were overbearing in a very real way. Poppy was outside of that, a sanctuary of something a little normal (well, more normal than most of them) in this very odd town.
To: Poppy
Hello, Poppy. I would love to. Tell me when and where, and I'll be there.
He typed every word out in a slow, painstaking way, more to do with his technological ineptitude than his mounting hesitation. He paused for a moment before adding-
To: Poppy
I promise I didn't mean for that to rhyme.
-just for good measure. He hit send and immediately tucked his phone away. It was easier not to dwell on the reply that may or may not come if he wasn't keeping an eye on his phone.
Which was when he realized that he was closer to the diner than he'd initially thought and that he certainly wasn't alone on the city street. A little ways ahead, two figures were sitting on a park bench, apparently enjoying what this Saturday had to offer. They were strangers to Ellis, which wasn't terribly surprising given his general newness to the town and the fact that the thought of interacting with strangers on purpose made him cringe.
Why was everyone in Bellingstone so damn attractive? That was Ellis's first thought when he spotted the giant of a man speaking with a sweet faced woman. It was like watching models converse, or at least models who had interesting things to say.
His second thought, however, was something more akin to, "What on Earth is that smell?"
His nostrils flared, and his steps faltered for a brief moment, eyes darting over to the man specifically. That wasn’t a scent that he’d been expecting.
It was rather embarrassing, in Ellis’s opinion, that of all of the senses that could have started to sharpen first, it had to have been his sense of smell. Maybe he’d been dreaming too big when he’d hoped for night vision or super healing, and the punishment for his hubris was having to wear a medical mask for at least a week, too overwhelmed by even the softest of scents to breathe without any sort of barrier. It had been a sad day indeed when he had had to put all of his scented candles out in his shed, their once comforting scents sickening for a time as he adjusted to his new sense of self.
He’d adjusted, in the end, and differentiating smells was easier for him now. For example, in Eliss’s mind vampires generally tended to smell a little clinical, very clean with a sharp tang of iron (there was also something else there too, like spice and old books, but that was possibly just Ivan Moreau). Werewolves, on the other hand, smelled more like the Earth, all dirt and fallen leaves as undertones to whatever other perfumes or colognes they had on. That’s what he was smelling right now, from this stranger, and that was odd indeed.
Ellis hadn’t heard about any werewolves outside of the Pack (and it was always Pack with a capital P in his mind) in Bellingstone, and, alright, he was new, but Axel had been pretty clear that he was the local Alpha Male and had failed to mention any lone wolves roaming nearby, and…
Oh, God, he was staring at them both. Ellis’s face flushed red in embarrassment. He tried to alleviate his own inherent awkwardness with a polite smile, failed when it turned into a slightly pleasant grimace, and promptly picked up his pace, attempting to pass by. Haha, pay no attention to the weird man who didn't know how to function. Oh, God, why had he left home today again? The diner, a place that filled him with many mixed emotions, was beginning to look like an absolute safe haven.
AXEL WOLFF
___________________________________
____________________________________
Felix's Diner
#235744
____________________________________
He was in the midst of regaining himself when Sydney took the water from him and started to walk off towards the table. Axel watched her go, unable to hold back a slight frown. Whereas before he had been the only one exuding an air of tension, he now felt it seeping from Sydney. Her sigh only confirmed what he knew, and he started to open his mouth to comment, but she beat him to it. He looked towards her, the two of them balancing on their forearms on the counter as they looked over the restaurant.
"Glad it's not just me," he remarked, giving a soft yet dejected sort of laugh. Axel couldn't help but smile as she placed her hand on his back in a reassuring manner. "Yeah, we'll just get through the day...don't worry about it." And yet he wanted to tell her to worry about it, to join him in his moment of distress. He needed her reassurance desperately. Sydney had become something of a rock to him over the past few years.
But that was selfish of him. Surely, she was worrying herself as well, sensing his emotions just like he was sensing hers. He stood himself upright, taking a slow breath. This wasn't just difficult for him - it was for her too. After all, Al had broken her heart all of those years ago. He wondered if she still had feelings for the man who had left her at the altar.
Axel didn't realize she had returned at first as he was still caught up in looking out over the diner, his mind racing. But her concerns filled the air around him once more as she slipped the mail under the counter. He promptly removed it, needing something to keep his hands busy. He flipped through the mail, pursing his lips as he separated out the junk mail from the bills.
His jaw gave a slight clench as he worked a thumb under the seal of an envelope, jerking it open roughly. "I don't...I don't know, Syd," he said softly, both to keep his voice down for the customer's sake and also to mask his growing anxiety. "He left years ago. The chance of him coming back is fucking slim-to-none." Axel put the letters down a bit too forcefully on the counter.
"But...if he does come back, it doesn't change anything, right?" Axel looked to Sydney now, meeting her eye as if begging for some sort of affirmation from her. "What we have here...he doesn't get to change that. Change the pack, this town." He meant it as a statement, but he could tell afterwards that his voice wavered just enough that he sounded unsure, as though asking her a question.
"Glad it's not just me," he remarked, giving a soft yet dejected sort of laugh. Axel couldn't help but smile as she placed her hand on his back in a reassuring manner. "Yeah, we'll just get through the day...don't worry about it." And yet he wanted to tell her to worry about it, to join him in his moment of distress. He needed her reassurance desperately. Sydney had become something of a rock to him over the past few years.
But that was selfish of him. Surely, she was worrying herself as well, sensing his emotions just like he was sensing hers. He stood himself upright, taking a slow breath. This wasn't just difficult for him - it was for her too. After all, Al had broken her heart all of those years ago. He wondered if she still had feelings for the man who had left her at the altar.
Axel didn't realize she had returned at first as he was still caught up in looking out over the diner, his mind racing. But her concerns filled the air around him once more as she slipped the mail under the counter. He promptly removed it, needing something to keep his hands busy. He flipped through the mail, pursing his lips as he separated out the junk mail from the bills.
His jaw gave a slight clench as he worked a thumb under the seal of an envelope, jerking it open roughly. "I don't...I don't know, Syd," he said softly, both to keep his voice down for the customer's sake and also to mask his growing anxiety. "He left years ago. The chance of him coming back is fucking slim-to-none." Axel put the letters down a bit too forcefully on the counter.
"But...if he does come back, it doesn't change anything, right?" Axel looked to Sydney now, meeting her eye as if begging for some sort of affirmation from her. "What we have here...he doesn't get to change that. Change the pack, this town." He meant it as a statement, but he could tell afterwards that his voice wavered just enough that he sounded unsure, as though asking her a question.
═════════════════════════════
R O M A NXB L A K E
_____ T H EXH E I R____
Outfit: Link Here
Location: Escape Bar & Grill
Dialogue Color ✦ #E5ABC3
Thought Color ✧ #d984a7
To: June♡
MSG:Is that a flirtation I see ;), anyway almost there boi.
The male would text quickly, at a red light, then proceed to the bar. His dark blue eyes would stare blankly ahead, as he smiled slightly. Pulling into the small parking lot, he would step out of his car with a spring in his step. Walking to the door of the bar, he would adjust his beanie. Opening the door he would speak out. "I'm home!" the male spoke, with a grin. Looking directly at Junsoo, his face would turn red.
He silently stood there, walking towards the male, he would feel his magic popping inside him. Something that happened often during Roman's interactions with Junsoo. He normally was the only one who could feel it. He would smile even more as he sat down at one of the stools.
He noticed a man sitting near him, wearing an enchanted ring. It was a signature of one of the more well-known magical families. His mother told him about them bringing some sort of water-related supernatural entity to Bellingstone. His face seemed confused, but he shrugged. He rarely left his home, unless he came to the bar or Junsoo's dance classes. So it was more often he didn't know the person, aside from the enchanted item.
MSG:Is that a flirtation I see ;), anyway almost there boi.
The male would text quickly, at a red light, then proceed to the bar. His dark blue eyes would stare blankly ahead, as he smiled slightly. Pulling into the small parking lot, he would step out of his car with a spring in his step. Walking to the door of the bar, he would adjust his beanie. Opening the door he would speak out. "I'm home!" the male spoke, with a grin. Looking directly at Junsoo, his face would turn red.
He silently stood there, walking towards the male, he would feel his magic popping inside him. Something that happened often during Roman's interactions with Junsoo. He normally was the only one who could feel it. He would smile even more as he sat down at one of the stools.
He noticed a man sitting near him, wearing an enchanted ring. It was a signature of one of the more well-known magical families. His mother told him about them bringing some sort of water-related supernatural entity to Bellingstone. His face seemed confused, but he shrugged. He rarely left his home, unless he came to the bar or Junsoo's dance classes. So it was more often he didn't know the person, aside from the enchanted item.
"Just a shot of scotch for me." Jun's lips softly pressed into a half smile as he pulled out the bottle of scotch, filling the small glass cup and sliding it over the counter. "On the house." he remarked. Not something he was accustomed to doing on his own. Usually Andre or Oscar decided who to hand out free drinks to, but Junsoo guessed neither of them would particularly mind his decision to give the town's Sheriff a freebie. The next question cause the young wolf to stop in his tracks, his eyes momentarily shifting to Roman as he made his entrance, before switching back to Mr. McWard.
"No sir, not at the moment." he answered almost carefully, calculating every word. As far as Junsoo knew, he wasn't guilty of any crimes, but something about the Sheriff being present made him rethink every life decision he had ever made, just to be on the safe side. Call it wolf's intuition, or whatever you may, but there was a heavy cloud of stress hovering over the older man's head. Of course, with everything that had gone down in the past few weeks, it was to be expected. Still, for someone as bright as Junsoo, it was almost suffocating. "I don't think he's coming in today." he added while his hands worked to prepare Roman his favorite drink. There was no need to ask him considering he almost always had the same thing. He placed the custom made cocktail in front of the boy, coupled with a smile and a swift wink for fun's sake, before turning his attention back to Marion once again. "Would you like to leave him a message?"
ALBRECHT WOLFF
___________________________________
____________________________________
Downtown Bellingstone
#735a75
____________________________________
He caught the tail-end of her comment as he pulled his gaze from Sydney and turned back to look at Carrie once more. At first, he had planned on continuing the conversation by picking up where she had begun to drift off, but she was quick to redirect the conversation once Sydney had disappeared back into the diner. He couldn't help but wonder if Sydney had a feeling he was here, if she knew her lover had returned to Bellingstone.
"Has he now?" asked Albrecht, smiling a little bit. He gave a soft laugh of disbelief. "Didn't really think he had it in him." But this laugh died off as she continued to speak.
"I suppose it could 'stir things up'," Al conceded, making air quotes for emphasis. He looked towards the diner once more before turning to Carrie again. "I have a duty to the pack though. I never really abandoned it - I'm sure they know that too." A smirk pulled at his lips. "Besides, Axel's competent enough, but he never was one for leading. You and I both know that."
He might have said more, but he suddenly perked up slightly, his eyes widening for a moment as a scent hit him. The breeze must have changed, suddenly bringing the smell straight to him. It was a werewolf's scent - that much he knew almost instantly. Albrecht looked over his shoulder with a sort of eagerness, as though hoping to find a member of the pack waiting for him, but instead, the only person there was...well, he wasn't what Al had expected.
The man had an awkwardness about him, and the scent he gave off reminded Al of when Axel had begun to come into his own, gaining his abilities as he had gone through puberty. It almost made Al want to pity him, and perhaps his face contorted for a moment into something that displayed this sudden concern for the timid man. He looked like he hadn't seen the outside world in days.
"Hello there," Al greeted, quite matter-of-factly as he gave a slight wave of his hand. "Can't say I ever met you before." Albrecht wondered all of a sudden if the werewolf before him was of the pack. He had to be, right? Rogue werewolves never really fit into the framework of Bellingstone. And so it could only help to mention himself, no?
"I'm Al," he stated, turning his body almost one hundred and eighty degrees so that he leaned on the back of the bench, his torso fully facing the man as he extended a large hand. "Al Wolff."
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View All » Add Character » 17 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Marion McWard
I'm not getting any older but not any younger either, so can we get this over with already?
Carwyn Pryderi
Murder and mayhem in Bellingstone? This isn't the town I used to know...
Ellis Bleddyn
"'What's the worst that could happen?' she said. I'd say this, honestly. Probably this."
Roman Blake
"We do not need magic to transform our world. We carry all of the power we need inside ourselves already."
Andre Clarke
"A man is nothing if he can't even protect his own family."
Poppy Clarke
"I thought that my purpose was to see the beauty in everything...but I don't see the beauty in this."
Oscar Stein
"We all must endure something that is unbearable."
Sydney Green
"Words should only hold weight when honest intentions are behind them."
Ivan Moreau
"Perhaps the less we have, the more we are required to brag."
Trending
Roman Blake
"We do not need magic to transform our world. We carry all of the power we need inside ourselves already."
Marion McWard
I'm not getting any older but not any younger either, so can we get this over with already?
Oscar Stein
"We all must endure something that is unbearable."
Poppy Clarke
"I thought that my purpose was to see the beauty in everything...but I don't see the beauty in this."
Carwyn Pryderi
Murder and mayhem in Bellingstone? This isn't the town I used to know...
Ellis Bleddyn
"'What's the worst that could happen?' she said. I'd say this, honestly. Probably this."
Axel Wolff
"And the strength of the wolf is the pack."
Albrecht Wolff
"I think you travel to search and you come back home to find yourself there."
Ivan Moreau
"Perhaps the less we have, the more we are required to brag."
Most Followed
Poppy Clarke
"I thought that my purpose was to see the beauty in everything...but I don't see the beauty in this."
Axel Wolff
"And the strength of the wolf is the pack."
Carwyn Pryderi
Murder and mayhem in Bellingstone? This isn't the town I used to know...
Ellis Bleddyn
"'What's the worst that could happen?' she said. I'd say this, honestly. Probably this."
Ivan Moreau
"Perhaps the less we have, the more we are required to brag."
Oscar Stein
"We all must endure something that is unbearable."
Albrecht Wolff
"I think you travel to search and you come back home to find yourself there."
Sydney Green
"Words should only hold weight when honest intentions are behind them."
Andre Clarke
"A man is nothing if he can't even protect his own family."
Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » Bellingstone, PA: Out of Character
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Requests, Reservations, and More
1, 2, 3by Scarlet Loup on Thu Oct 26, 2017 10:59 pm
- 47 Replies
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- Last post by Moonstruck
on Thu Dec 14, 2017 5:49 pm
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Requests, Reservations, and More
Most recent OOC posts in Bellingstone, PA
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
I'm still here. I got busy with the holidays and family stuff. I'll get up a post here soon. :) Hope everyone is doing well with their jobs, exams, etc.
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
I'm still here and interested! But I assuredly understand getting too busy/life getting in the way of posting.
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
Totally understand! I'm getting close to finals week, so I'm personally freaking the heck out a bit. Still trying to get my post for Al up in the next day or so, but I also have quite a few projects that I need to do, so we'll see! Hopefully, you're all still around!
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
So, obviously it's been a minute since I was here and I wanted to say I'm really, really sorry about that. If it wasn't the fact that my job schedule was something I had to get used to, it was the fact that my colleague came in sick and then I wound up catching the flu, complete with a fever, chills, aches, dehydration and just a lot. Like, I've been trying to build my strength back up these last few days. I am really sorry because I was trying to be better in terms of posting frequency and shit just fell apart. I'm really sorry about that.
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
Hey, all! Sorry I haven't posted yet. I just got finished with what had become a 60+ hour work week and haven't had a chance. I'll have my post up tomorrow and will keep up with it from now on!
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
Posting either tonight or tomorrow.
EDIT.
Typing with acrylics is not the move, but a post is up :D I feel accomplished. Hope everyone's had a good start to their week.
EDIT.
Typing with acrylics is not the move, but a post is up :D I feel accomplished. Hope everyone's had a good start to their week.
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
I'll be making a post shortly after work tomorrow. Currently in the process of finding my own place v,v
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
@Girl2Fine2 It was a good post. No worries, mine were long as well. I feel like most first posts are.
l can't wait to see what everyone else writes! :)
l can't wait to see what everyone else writes! :)
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
That post was kinda long, but once I started their dialogue, it was a wrap. It wouldn't end until they decided it was gonna end. But at least I got one out xD
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
Not a stupid question, haha! My partner came over to celebrate my birthday, so I didn't end up finishing Al's post. You're certainly welcome to begin posting! My post for Al is just going to establish him down the block from the diner, deciding whether or not to go in.
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
So follow up question: can we start posting? Or are we waiting for Albrecht's post? Lol sorry if that seems like a stupid question.
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
Hey all! Thanks for your patience! I'm almost done the first post which will be from Axel's POV - I'll follow that up with a post from Al's POV. Both should be up around 5 EST since I'm almost done classes for the day.
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
I'm sorry I haven't quite completed Willow yet (I've had a hectic weekend) she's like 98% done haha I just need to finish off her history, so I should have her finished by tonight.
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
Hey, all! I just wanted to say how excited I was for all of this to be starting up. If you'd like to talk relations with Ellis, whether they be good bad or mutual, please don't hesitate to contact me! I love discussing things like that and establishing a nice groundwork to play with~
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
I have completed my sheet for the sheriff. :D Everyone meet Marion McWard, sheriff and siren of Bellingstone.
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
I held off on starting to let some more characters roll in, but it's looking like no one else is submitting characters. I've got three WIPs, so it'd be great if those could finish up and anyone who hasn't started gets a good start on their character over the weekend. I'm looking to write my first post today and have it up ASAP - so keep your eyes peeled!
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
I think I'm done with Rosario although I might go back to edit some things :) I'll try to send out relationship PMs today/tomorrow.
Re: Requests, Reservations, and More
@Immayahoka: Sounds good - can't wait to see her! Also, Lorde is a great FC!
@Moonstruck: Woo! I'll look over her application & add her to the front page!
@Moonstruck: Woo! I'll look over her application & add her to the front page!