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Olivar Furen

"Let's go for a little run, shall we?"

0 · 493 views · located in Cherry Blossom, Virginia

a character in “Cherry Blossom War”, as played by Skwidge

Description





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|Full Name|
Olivar Furen

|Nickname(s)|
Ollie

|Age|
26

|Gender|
Male

|Sexuality|
Heterosexual

|Species|
Werewolf

|Rank|
Epsilon || Sentry (Scout)

|Occupation|
Works at the radio tower

|Mate|
-Single-
(TBA)




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|Height|
5' 10''

|Weight|
180 lbs.

|Hair Color|
White; Base color and roots are black

|Eye Color|
Grey brown

|Appearance|
Olivar is confident in every aspect of his appearance, and it definitely shows. There is no possible way of insulting him by commenting on how he looks; for one thing, he simply doesn't care, and for another, he knows he looks good. Well-built in muscle and physique, it's no surprise that Olivar is an athletic person. He has a runner's body equipped with extra muscle to discourage people from messing with him. He may only be five foot ten inches, but you wouldn't really think so what with the way he holds himself. He may have a disadvantage in height when compared to most of the vampires out there, but it's never stopped him before. He's well suited for his job, and well suited to being a werewolf.

With a symetrical face, Olivar is automatically categorized in the 'attractive' side of things. His hair stands out probably the most out of his entire person, and that's saying a lot, since his personality is so loud. People may think that it's dyed white at the top, but they would be wrong. His hair color is natural. Whispy white bangs tend to cover some part of his forehead at any one time, and equipped with light sideburns and a bit of rugged facial hair, he's definitely got some charms. The contrast between black and white in his hair can be said to resemble a placating in regards to aggression. Where one might find darker hair to represent some roughness or feralness, the white evens it out as a bright, inviting layer.

His skin is tanned from innumerable hours spent outside, and his eyes compliment the tone rather nicely. They are a spot of mellowness when compared with how loud and bubbly he can be. He might have a loud, cocky smile to his face, but his eyes speak something different. They are soft and friendly, drawing people close to him along with his good-natured temperament and love for laughter and pleasantries. They are the color of quiet marshes or the hue of treebark on a cold morning.

Olivar's wardrobe is rather limited. He wears jeans or black pants with dark boots. As for tops, he's either in a long-sleeved, form-fitting grey athletic shirt with blue and white accents, collared shirts, simple t-shirts, or a black hoodie with white arrowheads running down the sleeves from the shoulders. He prefers jackets and coats over any other sort of outerwear.

His body is completely void of any markings, except for a singular tattoo on his wrist. It's on his right hand, on the right side under the thumb. It is of a narrow wolf paw print, simple in design, and generally hidden behind a sleeve.





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|Likes|
Running || Working out || Energy drinks || Laughing || Joking around || Grinning || His hair colors || Speed || Forests || Wolves || His pack mates || Antique radios || Having a plan || Scouting and securing areas || Trains || Explosions || Spicy things || Rivers || Cherry pie || Jumping in puddles || Being a werewolf

|Dislikes|
Large amounts of blood || Humans in danger || Infighting || People who are stick-in-the-mud's || Not being able to make someone laugh or smile || Vampires || Losing || Anger, greed, negative emotions in general || Ice || Wet, cold paws || Wet socks || Static || High-pitched noises or whistles || Witchcraft- it makes him nervous || Lazy people

|Hobbies|
Working out || Running || Scouting || Playing shooter games || Sharing info through the radio station

|Fears|
Not being strong enough || Being outrun by somebody || Blizzards, deep fogs, white-outs (basically any situation where he can't see well) || Losing the use of his legs || Losing his senses

|Strengths|
Quick-witted || Speed and Running || Optimistic || Resourceful || Observant || Senses are highly attuned to surroundings || Strength || Loyalty

|Weaknesses|
Too outgoing, as it might make some people uncomfortable || Too fast-paced || Might not take a serious situation seriously enough || Likes to provoke enemies || Vampires || Allergic to most Mexican food





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|Personality|
【 Jester | Upbeat | Strong-willed | Self-assured | Resourceful 】

Olivar is a very confident individual- everything he does oozes surety and excitement. You will never see him down. Seriously injured? Still cracking lame jokes or trying to make light of it. Upset? Impossible; he'd just get brush it off and exit any toxic sort of scene. He doesn't allow himself to deliberate much when it comes to negative things, simply doing whatever his instincts tell him to and moving on.

However, he isn't all fun and games and wanting to see everyone get along. He finds enjoyment in fights, and can easily start trash-talking when it comes to actual enemies. When it comes to the wolves fighting amidst each other, he simply hates it and wants nothing to do with it. He likes any chance to stretch his muscles and get a good run in or to train in any way, so sparring or battling is a plus in his mind. Olivar is also rather mischievous, loving to get into a bit of good trouble.

He's all about making people laugh or just simply enjoy themselves, and is always saying things to make another person crack a smile or get into his mindset. Olivar hasn't a singular concern for what other people might think of him- he is who he is, and he owns it. Very few words will change his actions, and he can become a bit overbearing in the personality section because of this.

Collecting resources is a part of his job- whether that be physical items or mental capacities. He's always got something to say in any situation, and often has many resources to answer questions or make something up to get himself out of a tight situation.

All in all, Olivar is just a fun-loving person; all he wants to do all day is run around and play in puddles or mess around in the mud, to feel the strength coiled in his muscles and the surety of his form's physical capabilities. He loves the freedom that comes with being what he is.





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|History|
Olivar has only been in the Cherry Blossom pack for about 5 years. Originally, he lived up in North Dakota with his family which consisted of his mother, father, and twin sister. He's mutt-born, which probably attests to his easy-going demeanor. His mother was a werewolf, while his father was a human. Unfortunately for dad, however, he had to deal with two rambunctious pups, because Olivar's sister was born werewolf as well.

He had good relations with both of his parents, and an almost inseperable bond with his sister. Nothing horrific happened to him to make him leave North Dakota, he just decided that he wanted to go out on his own and find his own pack- a fresh set of faces. He left with words of scouting out ahead hoping that his sister, when she was ready, might follow after him. She hasn't yet, but he does occasionally get in contact with her through letters.

He soon arrived in Virginia, and after searching for a good place to settle, he stumbled upon Cherry Blossom and immediately bonded to the werewolf pack there. He's been in it ever since. When the alpha died and the pack split, he decided to side with those he knew best and who were the easiest-going. It was a swift decision, as he didn't want to suffer over deliberating between the two. He can't stand the high tensions between the two groups, however, and hates that there's often fights that break out.





|Wolf Form|

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So begins...

Olivar Furen's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Sienna De Lucchi Character Portrait: Lillian Smith Character Portrait: Vivian Greenwood Character Portrait: November Mortlake Character Portrait: Elisabeth Hill Character Portrait: Bernard Freud Character Portrait: Aiden Tovar Character Portrait: Connor Chulainn Character Portrait: Johanna Walker Character Portrait: Kirstin Lee Blair Character Portrait: Killian Cervantes Character Portrait: Atlas Anderson Character Portrait: Gerald Andrews Character Portrait: Julia Sinclair Character Portrait: Arthur Madden Character Portrait: Levi Winters Character Portrait: Meredith Lagrange Character Portrait: Serena Roberge Character Portrait: Olivar Furen Character Portrait: Lester Lokwoul Character Portrait: Calvin Hansen
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Julia Sinclair, also known as Jewls in her work place. being the towns most famous stripper wasn't something most girls, if any, would consider and accomplishment but Julia did. She didn't care what people thought of her profession or what people said about her attitude about her profession. she loved what she did, arousing men the way their wives or girlfriends couldn't it was amusing to her how human men were when it came to things like that. While dancing she caught sight of a very pretty girl who she planned on making her dinner.

after her shift was over she stayed behind watching the girl. She ordered a few drinks as she watched the girl interact with other at the bar. Juli had to admit she would be attracted to the poor girl if she hadn't already planned on feeding from her. Sad really she thought as she finished her second drink. Waiting for this girl to leave the club was kind of boring. She had to sit there watching the girl talk to other people and also watch her colleagues dance on stage, they weren't terrible but they were bad. they were trying to hard to be sexy while Julia didn't have to. She had enough confidence to know she was the hottest thing in the room no matter what people said.

Finally the girl was heading out the bar, hopefully heading home. Juli finished her last drink and followed her from a distance. She followed her down the street, stalking her like she had been taught all those years ago. Just as she was ready to make her move on the girl she sensed something that she was sure was going to ruin her night, werewolves.





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Lillian had gathered a few wolves to help her scout the town for vampires. It wasn't hard to sense a vampire in a town full of humans however tonight they weren't having much luck. She had split the four of them into two teams, one was sent to the west side of town while she and Serena scouted out the east. The streets were deserted, it being a Friday night most people went to bars or college parties which was perfect targets for vampires. No one ever paid attention at parties, just a bunch of drunks dancing and drinking while some poor kid was getting feed on by a blood-sucker.

Lillian grunted seeing a drunk couple wobbling down the street past them. She never understood humans habits of drinking, they just woke up with a blistering headache the next morning or drank until they puked. Lilly didn't like feeling sick for any reason so to voluntarily drink so much that you feel sick sounded ridiculous to her. "Anything yet?" She asked Serena checking if she'd sensed anything yet. She probably hadn't but it was better to ask than assume.

Being the Alpha wasn't an easy job for anyone but especially Lillian. Even after earning the title she found herself continuously having to prove herself to everyone. Weather it be other Alphas or her pack members, it was much more annoying when her own pack members did it to her. She was always forced to injure them in someway to get it through their heads that she meant business and wouldn't take their crap.

Taking a deep breath, getting ready to call this scouting off she got wind of what they had been looking for. "You smell that?" She whispered to Serena, nudging her in the arm. She scanned the streets searching for where the sent was coming from.





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It was late but Vivian was the type who like to practice her magic after most had went to bed for the night, plus it was safer that way. She was still learning about her abilities there were still things she didn't know how to do or make. Just recently she discovered she was able to extract vampire venom from a werewolf, but it wasn't like she would be able to practice that any time soon. She also found out that there was an herb that would help her keep her energy up while healing with her chants. Normally she had to ask Sienna,though she was usually reluctant, to help her when she practiced her chants since chanting took more of her energy but with this herb she would have to. The downside to this find was that the herb was rare and not even found in Cherry Blossom anywhere.

Vivian sighed as she looked through her book of herbs. There was still so much she didn't know and she hated it. She thought that by now she would know at least most of what healers should know but she didn't even know half. It frustrated her that she felt like she was far behind, she partly blamed her father. He should have embraced who she was and allowed her to at least read her mothers books. Instead he burned them and forbid her from even mentioning magic to him.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lillian Smith Character Portrait: Vivian Greenwood Character Portrait: Connor Chulainn Character Portrait: Atlas Anderson Character Portrait: Julia Sinclair Character Portrait: Levi Winters Character Portrait: Meredith Lagrange Character Portrait: Serena Roberge Character Portrait: Olivar Furen
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He stood leaning against a burnt out street lamp, one hand resting in the pocket of his coat, he is seemingly relaxed as he watches a steady stream of people come and go from the bar, looking to any who see him as nothing more than a man stepping out for a smoke and indecisive of whether to light the coffin nail or not, swinging his watch out of his pocket by the chain it snaps into his palm, springing open at his touch seeing the time he breathes explosively from his nose as if the time piece had personally offended him. He hated waiting, even if he was excellent at it, he hated it, his eyes track over every person leaving the bar, lingering for a moment on a particularly attractive girl leaving, and then an instant later his nostrils flare as a familiar scent drifts his way, and his distinct amber colored eyes track over the form of a woman exiting the establishment, stalking the one he'd noticed moments before, blond, good looking, moves like sex and death had a baby, blood sucking skank barbie.

An instant after seeing her the watch is stowed away in a pocket and his hand is toggling a switch at his throat, static sparks in his ear from the mic.

"Beta actual, this is Alpha actual, move into position and hold, I think I have one."

Connor had ordered a small contingent of wolves to hunt with him, they were to circle seeking out the blood suckers and wait for his command, some would be in human form, mingling with the humans, others as wolves, running the circuit of the town, they he would have to call through a set of whistles, or in his own wolf form by howling since they wouldn't be able to make use of the mic in their wolf forms, but the system was as good as he could make it at present.

Moving his hand away from the mic switch he growls softly, the sound rumbling up form deep in his chest. His voice deeper than normal, and coming out half growled in irritation, as he glances up at the moon.

"I hate hunting at night," better to burn the damned leeches out of the holes during the daytime, all the better to make them feel as hopeless as those they prey upon.

Moving non chalantly away from the lamp post he flicks the still fresh cigarette into the street, seemingly heading home he crosses the street staying well back, eyes trained on the women in front of him, undead leech or not, she was something to look at. It was almost too bad he was going to have to tear hear heart out and set her body aflame. Almost.

Now if he could get through a hunt without being interrupted he'd be happy, well, smiling wryly, happy enough at least.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Olivar Furen Character Portrait: Lester Lokwoul
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#, as written by Skwidge
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God, how long had it been? It honestly felt like an eternity to Olivar. It had been so long since things had gotten back under some semblance of normal, though that was truly a far cry when you actually looked at the situation. The battle for dominance that had inevitably split their pack in half had lasted far too long in his opinion- in fact, it should never have happened to begin with.

In wolf form, Olivar skirted about within the darkness, ears perked fully and tail carefully held in a neutral, seeking position. His nostrils were constantly flaring, taking in every scent and smell that presented itself. But it was truly revolting; the world had gone to shit while the wolves were too busy with themselves to remember their actual duty in life- protecting the humans around them and eradicating the threat of the undead. Instead, the little town of Cherry Blossom had become a melting pot for the scent of the dead, the burning black powder scent that came with magic, and the strong smell of fear, death, and normalcy from the humans. Stale, bitter blood stained certain small patches of grass or stone, depending on where the vampire had decided to take their victim and get decidedly sloppy. Whoever it was who made this kind of mess obviously was never taught their manners as a child.

There was nothing that Olivar could really do about the distractions of the werewolves during the rocky times. Attendance was demanded during the days of decision, and long days they were. Besides, taking on a vampire without the surety of backup from your pack was a fool’s errand. If things went south while the pack was too busy tearing each other apart, there would be no one to come and save your hide.

He couldn’t think about that now, though. Everything was back in gear, albeit very shakily and rusty as hell, but the night’s watchers were back in action, and they definitely had a duty to fulfill. It had been a shame that the vampires had so easily slipped into the town, but such was the way of life for all of the species. There would always be vampires to hunt humans, and werewolves to hunt vampires. Olivar had a job to do, and lives truly were dependent on his doing a good job.

His chosen alpha, Connor, had taken the interior of the town to truly track down the scents of the biters with his beta, and Olivar had immediately chosen securing the perimeters of particular sections they were currently combing through, to ensure that no vampires would be escaping anytime soon. Connor was the more effective and the stronger of the now two packs; it had been a no-brainer, really. Not that he had a single thing against Lillian, it was just, a female alpha? The ridicule, the struggles, and the constant fact that she would constantly be challenged would have been too much to handle. That was not their job- to squabble over certain things, even if Lillian could have the potential to be a good alpha- they needed to focus on the vampires more than anything else. That’s what irked Olivar the most, yet he could do nothing about it. Besides, Connor was more efficient, more confident, and he had the years under his belt. Olivar didn’t particularly agree with his no-nonsense personality, but when it came to fighting, he would rather have him at the command than anyone else.

Olivar shook his head, feeling his fur shift and his muscles tense a bit. A wolfish grin spread across his maw- he had missed this. Being able to run without any concerns. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, obviously he had a job to do, but that only fueled his excitement further. A purpose and the means to fulfill it- it revved him up, spurred his muscles, and lit a fire in his bones that couldn’t be quenched until he had run himself raw. This was what he lived for.

But for now, he needed to wait upon his alpha’s command.





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The wind whistled coldly through the bows of the trees above, the only sound in the otherwise silent, cold universe. Powder white snow blanketed the earth, delicately covering each individual leaf or pine needle of whatever survived through this harsh yet beautiful time. It crunched beneath the weight of my soles, the air crisp and nipping to exposed flesh. I hadn’t bundled up properly for this, but then again, it wasn’t like I was focusing on the cold; no, my mind was completely enthralled with the journey I was undertaking. The moon’s opal light seeped through the empty air, illuminating the unseen path before me. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf’s howl sounded, lone and sorrowful, and it was easy to imagine how the air fogged before its open jaws, trying to share its warmth with this cold place. It was as easy to see as the air that escaped my own lips. It would all be worth it, though, once I reached the ruins.

But first I had to get through all of the branches snagging at my clothes, trying to impede my forward momentum. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being ineffably watched either, but every time I paused to take a glance over my shoulder, I would see nothing, other than perhaps the numbness reaching my brain, my excitement and imagination getting the best of me, and I would see pale blue orbs glowing somewhere off in the distance. It was probably just the moon and the snow, if anything. I didn’t have time to think or worry about anything but the history that I would be uncovering any minute now. The ruins had to be around here somewhere…. Perhaps the cold was getting to me more than I wanted to admit, but I just kept stumbling through the snow; maybe I was just hitting roots unseen below the snow.

Suddenly, none of that mattered. I broke through the tree line, my eyes resting against the aged beauty of the destroyed structure I had been seeking. I was about to take a step forward, to truly begin this excavation, when I realized I was not alone. “Well, it seems we’ve come to our destination.” A voice purred from somewhere behind me, and suddenly I froze. My blood iced over, my body colder than the weather could ever be.


Lester’s eyes had been glued to the page up until this point, mind racing with the scenes the book so readily supplied him. It was absolutely riveting, he could feel the climax closing in on the story; the scene was too perfect, too easy. He knew what to expect from it, but it still made him suck in a bit of air once he had reached the dialogue. Lessie leaned back in his seat, pulling his glasses from their secure position on his face, and running a hand through his hair while loudly exhaling a breath he hadn’t really realized he had been holding. A light grin was draped upon his face as he bit his lower lip softly, absolutely delighted by the magic of the written words before him and the surprise of the mysterious individual lurking behind the protagonist finally revealing themselves.

He had been reading an excerpt from one of the older books within the small, antique bookshop he worked at- Reality’s Crossing. It was on some lesser fables collected and arranged from scripts found somewhere in Denmark or thereabouts, and Lester had discovered the little treasure earlier that day. That’s what he loved about this place- no matter how long he had worked here, there was always another book to uncover and delve into. But with the movement and the momentary pause from the intensity that was his reading material, the spell he had been in seemed to break, and Les inclined his head to the side a bit, staring out towards the front of the store. Where it was exceedingly dark outside.

Lessie’s eyes widened and he suddenly sat up straight in his seat. Just how long had he been here? A light blush dusted his cheeks as he scrambled to get himself in order, quickly scooting his chair back from beneath the table and getting up. With a swift movement of his wrist to the center stage of his vision, he realized that it was practically midnight. Crap, crap, crap. He thought frantically to himself, now running his hands through his hair for a different reason. This certainly wasn’t the first time that this had happened, and although the owner of the shop had assured him that it was alright, Lester couldn’t dream of coming in late because he had failed to get home early enough to get the proper amount sleep he needed to function for the next day.

Taking a small breath to compose himself and give a little sigh to release the momentary panic he had endured, he rubbed his forehead with the wrist of the hand that still held onto his glasses. A little frown pressed his lips for a moment before disappearing. His gaze drifted back to the book that still lay open before him on the table, and the blush returned softly once again and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. ”Ah well, can’t be helped now.” He spoke into the empty expanse of the store, a small, almost rueful smile to his face now as he gingerly closed the realm beneath his fingertips, careful not to damage the binding or harm the book in any way. The only thing he could think of now was that he wouldn’t be finishing the story tonight. A soft laugh escaped his lips at that, and he carried the book back to an appropriate shelf, having memorized the page number he had been on for future perusing.

Les tilted another look at his watch, and a slightly worried look marred his features. He’d be home so late; for sure there would be no running into his apartment floor-mate Bernard at this hour. Lester shook his head with a wry sort of laugh, folding his reading glasses and pocketing them before dropping his arms to his side once more. He grabbed the black jacket that hung haphazardly on one of the bookshelf corners, quickly working his hands through the sleeves and moving forward to the front of the shop.

However, as he made it to the door, he suddenly stopped, patting his pockets before looking around. It didn’t take him long to locate what he had been looking for- a set of keys kindly left on the front desk by the owner of the shop. It looked like the man had finally just decided to make Les his own pair, so he wouldn’t have to keep leaving the only set in the potted ferns by the door. Lester moved over to grab them, enjoying the jingle of the metal as the object was disturbed. He stepped outside of the old store, quickly locating the two keys required to lock up, and turning the pieces of metal into the mechanisms, thus securing the shop.

He took a few steps back, hands now buried in the pockets of his jacket to fend off the slight chill of the night. He gazed up at the shop, a content smile on his face. It was quaint, that was for sure. It was connected with the other stonework buildings that ran down the street, only differentiating from them by the old mahogany wood sign with bold, golden letters of the store’s name, the two large windows set on either side of the door, and the door itself. Lester loved the place, it always smelled of old books, but the pleasant kind, not the mildewy ones; like old ink, worn leather, paper, and knowledge. He also couldn’t help the smile at the fact that he was now practically like a co-owner, now that he had his own keys to the store. Why hadn’t he thought of asking before? He would certainly have to thank Owen when he ran into him next.

Now wasn’t the time for those things, though, as the cold seemed to creep its way into his collar and set its cool little fingers upon his neck. Lester pulled his jacket closer around him, quickly buttoning it up before turning to head down the dimly lit streets of Cherry Blossom to his apartment.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Johanna Walker Character Portrait: Gerald Andrews Character Portrait: Julia Sinclair Character Portrait: Levi Winters Character Portrait: Olivar Furen
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"I was at a late movie showing," Gerald said and Levi nodded with a soft smile. He watched as Gerald glanced up at the shop and Levi looked up as well. "Is this yours now?" He swallowed. "Yep....actually, it was always mine, I just didn't do shit with it." He said with a chuckle, tapping the brick wall. It was then the Gerald got a text and excused himself. Levi nodded."Sorry about that," He said and Levi shrugged. "I'm about to open her up, You can stick around if you want." He said and turned go inside. He wouldn't mind having some company. This was heavy stuff, opening the door to the place that was his only connection to a man he'd never got to meet. He took a breath and pulled out the keys.
"I should warn you, It might be...actually, it's going to very very dusty." He said with a smirk and pointed to the store with a thumb and if he were honest with himself, he knew he was stalling. Even still, he reached slowly unlocked the door but not slow enough to make it weird.

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Joey rolled her shoulders, still feeling like she was being watched and Atlas hadn't called her back. She quickly typed in Olivar's name and a gentle wind tussled her braids, causing one to tickling her skin, she jumped nearly out of her skin. "Oh Shit!" She fumbled with phone a bit before finding Ollie's number and texted him quickly.
{To Olly<3}
{Olly! Hey, I'm freaking out, so um, I'm gonna swing by the radio station okay? Okay.}
She took a breath and made her way toward the station. She was almost half sure she was going to get him fired one day, but she always popped up unannounced to the point that most of the people at the station gotten used to seeing her. She was cool with most everyone anyway and she had to admit that she had a bit of a thing for Olly, with his odd silver hair and easy grin. They had a bit of a flirtationship sort of thing. Completely innocent....ish. Though right now that was the last thing she could think of. She couldn't shake the feeling of being watched...or better yet, stalked. The station was closer then her place and her grandmother wasn't exactly a safety net, when she looked after her more then the other way around so she decided she could really use some company.

{To Olly<3}
{"Or how about you meet me there? Hows that sounds...I'm really freaking out@#%!"}


She sent him one more text before wrapping her arms around herself, and telling herself not to look behind her.