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Elijah Patrov

Nothing is worse than living like this, not even death.

0 · 384 views · located in Greythorne

a character in “greythorne”, originally authored by mombie, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

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Image E L I J A H x P A T R O V Image
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Image . B A S I C S . Image Image Image


§ . m o n i k e r ( s ) . none of note

§ . g e n d e r . male

§ . a g e . 300, appears late twenties to early thirties

§ . s e x u a lx o r i e n t a t i o n . heterosexual

§ . o r i g i n . russian empire

§ . r e l a t i o n s h i pxs t a t u s . single

§ . r a c e . vampire


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Image . A P P E A R A N C E .

§ . e y e s . a striking and bright aquamarine hue

§ . h a i r . dark brown

§ . h e i g h t . 6' 3"

§ . w e i g h t . 189 lbs.

§ . p h y s i q u e . muscular, athletic build. brawny.

§ . s k i n . tanned, almost bronze

§ . s c a r s . many scars, but none are extremely notable.

§ . d e s c r i p t i o n . Elijah is tall and brawny; a man one would look at and perhaps be afraid of. There is no denying his musculature and height, and he looms over his conversational partners. He certainly stands out at a party. His skin, for a Vampire, seems to hold a deep tan that is almost bronze or golden in hue, as if his brilliant physique isn't enough to marvel at. The color of his skin makes every motion one that ripples with sinew at work - from writing to walking. Yet, surprisingly, that is not his most striking feature. People notice at first, his size. Then they notice his eyes, and they are most profound. They are an icy blue, almost translucent like a really clear beach in a foreign country. He has hooded eyes, and for some reason, this makes it look like he is really attentive to someone. Like he listens. Maybe like he is easy to talk to. They are warm and welcoming, yet absent to the acute observer. He likes a little stubble on his jawline but doesn't care for a full face of hair. It seems to be shaved just enough to give him that shadow of chin and jaw hair.

His style is pretty formal. Maybe one could even say that he keeps it business casual. He's an old traditional soul stuck in a modern era, and he really hasn't learned to get with the times. He prefers a nice pair of jeans with a buttoned-up blouse and finished off with a coat. He enjoys fine leather shoes and belts that match, and he really likes a kempt appearance. Since he does come from a different time, he feels like men should be men. They should dress as men did in the older days. Not that he will judge others. Honestly, he doesn't fit in a pair of skinny jeans anyway. He has a collection of expensive rings that he will wear depending on his outfit. He is, overall, extremely put together. He takes pride in his appearance.

He has a very strong and deeply voiced accent reminiscent of his coarse linguistic influences that hail from Russia.



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Image . C H A R A C T E R .

§ . d e m e a n o r . contemplative, attentive, protective, loyal, intelligent, gentleman

§ . f e a r s . too long of a life, emptiness, mortal love and friendship

§ . v i c e ( s) . cigars, from time to time, whiskey.

§ . d i s l i k e s . werewolves, hunters, mixed drinks, annoying people, dirty and careless people, daylight, technology

§ . l i k e s . classic literature from all over the world, a glass or two of whiskey before sleep, a quiet evening spent outside, writing

§ . f l a w s . conceited, arrogant, detached (though it doesn't seem like it), resistant to change, hard-headed

§ . m e r i t s . mortal skin color, calm heart, chivalrous, fast learner, vastly linguistic

§ . i n t e l l i g e n c e . linguistically competent in English, Russian, Turkish, Ukrainian, and German.

§ . p e r s o n a l i t y . An outsider might be led to believe that a guy that only comes out when the sun is down would be up to no good. However, the people of Greythorne know that he's anything but malevolent. While he may have expensive taste in attire or alcohol, and sometimes he comes off as haughty, he is just a man that has lived a long life that he would like to not repeat. Maybe even forget. To the few that have been in his home, they are greeted by lavish decor and a rather exhaustive library of literature collected overtime.

He is always considerate of others, even if it seems that he prefers to hold people at a distance. Unfortunately, being a creature of the night, there aren't always many opportunities for long and drawn out conversations. Yet, he loves to converse with like minds. Elijah is a kind soul that just wants to find something - something that he is not yet sure of. He feels like he's outlived his happiness, and that is the tragic part of his quiet life. How he feels about himself doesn't interfere with how he handles others. He's loyal and compassionate, and he is truly protective of the things and people he cares about. People might wonder how a man that feels like there's nothing left to live for can still be so warm and gentle.

But make no mistake - get on his bad side and you will be met with unrelenting brutality. One should not forget that he is a monster, and all beasts have their nature. It would be wise not to let the feral side of him come out - for everyone's sake. When he taps into the beast, nothing is off limits - not even his friends. If you hate him, it would be better to do so in quiet and behind his back. The monstrosity in him is frightening and merciless, and it is very hard to tame once it reels its ugly head.



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Image . A B I L I T I E S .


§ . s t r e n g t h s . superhuman strength and endurance, acute senses, superhuman conditioning and stamina, abnormally quick reflexes

§ . w e a k n e s s . holy ground, beheading, direct sunlight, crucifixes, silver (weakenes), invitation (must be invited into homes), fire

§ . p h y s i c a lx c o n d i t i o n i n g . He is inhumanly agile and strong, and has superhuman stamina and endurance. He is especially resistance to mortal illnesses. He has a blush of health, in that he appears human with healthy human skin tones. He isn't hard to injure, but you really have to work for it. He also has unnatural healing.

§ . s h a p e s h i f t i n g . why yes, he can change into a bat, thank you.

§ . i m m o r t a l . he doesn't age

§ . t e l e p a t h y . he can influence the thoughts of others as well as communicate with them mentally. This, of course, provided that they do not have any blocks.

§ . b l o o dx s u s t e n a n c e .he needs blood to live, but he can survive off of the blood banks provided by the town. However, feeding on a mortal being gives them a sense of euphoria and it is also paralytic.

§ . f a n g s . well, this is self-explanatory

§ . m o n s t r o u s x f o r m . ever seen Nosferatu? Yes, his true vampire form is like that - point ears, pale wrinkly skin, claws, protruding fangs and all.

§ Elija is your very typical vampire with a speed that is blurring to the human eye, and all the supernatural characteristics that one would normally contribute to one of his affliction. He does not have an aversion to Garlic. Repeat: He does not have an aversion to garlic! He has other Vampire constraints in that he must be invited into privately owned residences by the owner, and only the owner. Otherwise, if you don't want him in your house, don't tell him he can come in. Once invited, the invitation is forever or until a new owner takes the home over. He also prefers not to take blood from live sources, but if he must go out on a feeding frenzy, he takes it outside of the town and usually takes advantage of the homeless. However, he never kills. Well, not anymore...

He is also technologically incompetent. There is absolutely no way to get a hold of him through cellphones or computers, so one must actually talk to him. The horror.



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Image . H I S T O R Y .

Born in the Russian Empire, he had eight siblings and two parents. They were not well off, mere peasants on the streets of the reigning monarchy. The children worked just as hard as the parents, and there was little to no emphasis on education. In fact, they were too impoverished for all of that. As the years ticked by, his mother died of an illness when he was ten, and then his siblings began to drop off. After the death of his older sister, he was designated to take care of a sick father and his remaining two younger brothers. The death of his father followed when he was fifteen, and this left him and his brothers impossibly destitute. But a woman took them all in - a strange and beautiful woman that never seemed to age as they did. She had a husband, and they would grow up in a place that they could only ever dream of - one with a vast library and the ability to learn. Something that Elijah took to instantly.

Elijah eventually grew into a man, and his curiosity started to get the better of him. That strange woman and her husband kept the oddest hours, leaving the three boys to take care of things during the day. They still haven't aged, even as he turned twenty. He grew into a very handsome young man, and the woman began to look at him differently - wantingly. She gave him and his brothers everything they could have ever wanted, and she was far too beautiful for him to resist. This grew into an affair and dark secrets started to unravel. Unbelievable truths. She told him that she could help make him and his brothers immortal, and he didn't believe this at first. Her husband began to suspect that something was amiss, and the wife slipped into Elijah's bed and bit him. After she drank of him, she promised that this was for his own good. She cleaned the wound and left the home, bags packed.

The husband thundered through the house, and one by one he slit the throat of all three boys. Then he chased down his wife, of whom he beheaded in a frenzy of anger and jealousy. After he realized that he murdered the love of his life, he stayed out until the sun turned him to ash. Days later, the three boys woke and they were famished. They were monstrous. The small town would be ravished to satiate their new ravenous appetite. They'd remain in that manor for decades before they were chased out by hunters. One of his brothers succumbed to holy wounds, and then there were only two.

The two brothers lived most of their lives out in various European destinations. It took them a really long time to learn that they'd have to control themselves in order to live. They found others like them - older and more experienced, to show them the way. Yet they'd be monsters for a century more - doing what they please and when they want to do it. But Elijah was so different from his brother in every way. He didn't like the death and the carnage they left in their wake. He always had a more gentle and nurturing soul, and that came, perhaps from the fact that he had to care for his siblings at a young age. This pissed his brother off, and they butted heads more and more every day. It became too much, and he tried to force Elijah to return to the traditional old ways of the Vampire. He tried to remind him that the mortals were no good anyway. Elijah did not agree. The two fought to the death, and it ended with Elijah holding grasping his brother's throat in his mouth before beheading him. He put him outside to let the morning take him.

Overtime, Elijah blended in with the mortals because he had unnaturally healthy skin. He had fallen in love with a woman and gotten married. They could not have children of their own, but they did adopt three babies. As his love for his family deepened, his desire to die with them also grew. He watched them age when he did not, and his wife passed... his boys passed... his daughter. This left him with nothing.

He retreated to Greythorne ten years ago to get away from mortals and the strange wounds that they make in him. Since the attack on the town, he is has a lot of survivors guilt. Over all of the people that died, why couldn't at least one of them be himself? He knows that something bad is coming, but he isn't sure if he wants it to take him, or if he wants to help fight to protect Greythorne.



coding x mombie | fc x sean o'pry | hex x 7B5653

So begins...

Elijah Patrov's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Phoenix Woods Character Portrait: Alex Garcia Character Portrait: Zada min Albahr Character Portrait: Jaiden Price Character Portrait: Rosie Thompson Character Portrait: Neden Isimir
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

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PHOENIX WOODS
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outfit : herex|xhex: #c4a7be
xxxsome things have changed
xxxwe don't fit like we used to
xxxit's hard to ignore if it's worth the wait
xxxit might just fool you
“Two lattes, a grilled chicken, chorizo and red pepper sandwich, and the Woods Special. Can I get my two favourite customers anything else?” Phoenix asked, provoking a giggle from the two old ladies in front of him. They confirmed that no, they were perfectly happy, and Phoenix told them to call him over if they did need anything. They were approaching closing time, but he knew that Daisy and Phyllis would be out well in time for them to close up. They came in at the same time every day, like clockwork, and always ordered a latte each. Sometimes they would treat themselves to a pastry or a cookie, other times, they would stick with a sandwich, others, just the coffee. But they’d been coming since he opened, and they had stayed coming, even after the attack. And that meant a lot.

And, bang on time, Daisy and Phyllis left, leaving them with plenty of time to clean up. Usually, Phoenix took as much time as he and the staff needed clearing up, but tonight was different. He didn’t rush anyone, but it seemed they were out in record time. Later that evening, there was going to be a town meeting of some kind to try and put a plan in place to prevent something like the festival attack happening again.

Phoenix would have been lying if he had said that the thought of it didn’t make him more than a little nervous. Following the attack, people had stopped gathering in public. The most people he’d seen in one place was his daily lunchtime rush, and even then, he could see the look of anxiety on their faces, the way they looked over their shoulders any time the bell on the door rang. People were afraid. But apparently this was a call to action. An attempt to try and take things into their own hands. And after everything that had happened, he couldn’t blame them.

In an attempt to distract himself, he’d spent the night before baking. He had filled a tray with his ultimate comfort food brownies to bring to the meeting with him, but he also had a smaller box balanced on top. Phoenix had said he’d swing by Alex’s with them to drop them in to his abuela, but in reality he didn’t want Alex to have to walk through town alone. Phoenix had been finding it hard, but it was nothing compared to Alex. And probably understandably so. Phoenix didn’t like to dwell on that night. The memory of seeing his best friend on the ground, covered in his own blood and the way that Phoenix had just
 left still haunted him. He could only imagine what it was like to have been the one on the ground.

He called his goodbyes to the rest of the staff as they locked up, pulling his coat on and tucking his scarf into it. Winter had fallen as harsh as ever, and he knew it was a matter of time before it began to snow. At least this winter, he lived right above the cafe and had a functional heating system, meaning he didn’t have to venture too far into the cold every morning. He didn’t waste time walking the familiar path back to the house, eager both to keep warm and get out of the dark. He’d never been afraid of the dark. The things that went bump in the night were commonplace in this town and often showed up first thing to his cafe in search of their usual coffee and croissant, before going home to bed. But all that had changed now.

“¡Hola, Abuela! Te traje unos brownies!” He called as he let himself in to Alex’s house. “I’ll leave them in the kitchen!” he added, switching back to English. He’d picked up a decent level of Spanish having spent a significant portion of his childhood in their house, but Abuela frequently bemoaned his grasp of grammar. He left the box of brownies into the kitchen and stopped to kiss the old lady on the cheek as he did so. The old lady chuckled and called out in Spanish, telling Alex that Phoenix was here.



ROSIE THOMPSON
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outfit : herex|xhex: #cc0460
xxxshe's a killer queen
xxxgunpowder, gelatine
xxxdynamite with a laser beam
xxxguaranteed to blow your mind
Rosie had gone straight from class to the town hall to help set things up. She hadn't organised the meeting, hut she'd been spreading the word and encouraging people to come, despite how afraid they are. She'd drawn the line at telling her students, though. She wasn't risking any of them getting hurt if anything did go wrong. They were kids. This wasn't their fight, as much as they might have wanted it to be.

And even if she hadn't organised it, she'd somehow found herself being asked to speak. Maybe it was just because, if she could control a class of rowdy freshmen, she could control a crowd of scared townspeople. Or at least that was what she told herself to calm the slight anxiety. She dug her phone out of her bag and sent a few texts.

To: Markus
you better get your ass here tonight because i've somehow been roped in to speak

To: Zada
babe apparently i have to talk at this thing so you better be coming


Things had been rough on everyone since the attack. But sitting at the top of a classroom, staring down at the empty chairs of students who had been murdered... she'd gotten her freshmen to rearrange the classroom so those empty seats weren't there and so their classmates wouldn't feel as they were sitting in their fallen classmates' seats. Rosie had wondered if she would have been able to make a difference if she had gone. If she could have saved even one of their lives, would it have been better? Or would she have been beating herself up that she hadn't done enough? She took a deep breath and took her seat on the stage as people began to trickle into the hall. She couldn't dwell on that now.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Phoenix Woods Character Portrait: Alex Garcia Character Portrait: Zada min Albahr Character Portrait: Jaiden Price Character Portrait: Rosie Thompson Character Portrait: Neden Isimir
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

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PHOENIX WOODS
Image
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outfit : herex|xhex: #c4a7be
xxxsome things have changed
xxxwe don't fit like we used to
xxxit's hard to ignore if it's worth the wait
xxxit might just fool you
Alex had been like this for weeks but it didn’t hurt any less to see him like this. The hollow smile did nothing to reassure Phoenix, but he returned the smile anyway. Phoenix returned the look that Abuela gave him with a small reassuring smile, promising to look after him.

Alex didn’t wait particularly for Phoenix, only glancing to make sure he was following, but Phoenix caught up easily. It was like being with somebody else entirely as they walked in silence. Before the attack, there had seldom been a silence between them, always filled with laughter or teasing. Now, Phoenix knew not to try and fill the space with noise. Even he found it hard to know what to say.

The contact of Alex’s arm pulling him to a stop shocked Phoenix out of his thoughts as he mentally prepared himself for an attack, but he saw nothing. Just Carl. Phoenix took one look at Alex’s face and thought for a moment about suggesting they ditched the meeting and went back to his apartment instead. And then Alex started moving again, apologizing in more of a mumble than anything. Alex actually spoke as they reached the town hall. Phoenix just shrugged. “It’s okay. I get it. Everything’s different and weird and
 Just
 know I’m always here, okay? Even if you just want to get drunk or drink tea, or
 I dunno, sit in silence on the floor. Any time of day or night.” They’d been friends long enough that he knew he didn’t have to say it, but sometimes a reminder was needed. Alex clearly wasn’t in a great frame of mind right now. And besides, there was plenty of nights when Phoenix found himself awake at three, four, five in the morning, unable or unwilling to go back to sleep.

Phoenix was glad that the first person they ran into was Kay. It was hard not to smile in her presence, and her energy was practically infectious. Her outfit put them all to shame as they huddled in their jackets and scarves. He left the two of them for a moment as he went to put the tray of brownies down for people to take as they pleased. He got back just as Kay put a flower crown on Alex’s head, struggling to balance it on his curls, and Phoenix couldn’t help but laugh. Then she bounded away, and Phoenix could see the slight change in Alex’s expression. He wasn’t in a flower crown mood, but Phoenix knew he didn’t want to hurt Kay’s feelings. And so Phoenix very obviously reached over and stole the flower crown from his head, balancing it on top of his hair instead.“Bullshit, we all know I’m the cuter one wearing this,” he declared.

Alex started to ask wear Phoenix wanted to sit, before darting to an unoccupied seat.“This is perfect. I’m afraid if we sit any closer to Rosie’s skirt without sunglasses, we might do permanent damage,” he joked. The exact location of the seat hadn’t escaped Phoenix either, but if he was being honest, he was happier here too.

He caught that familiar, sickening scent before he saw her. He didn’t even turn around to acknowledge her, not wanting to grace her with a reaction. But he could feel her eyes on him, see her out of the corner of his eye. But instead he kept his eyes forward, trying desperately to keep his expression neutral despite the twisting in his stomach and the anger that rose within him. The only outward reaction was a clenching of his jaw as Camila kissed Alex’s jaw. She slunk away and Phoenix had to resist the temptation to glare at her as she did so. Thankfully, a distraction came in the form of Rosie getting to her feet and walking to the podium, the room starting to fall silent at that single action.



ROSIE THOMPSON
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outfit : herex|xhex: #cc0460
xxxshe's a killer queen
xxxgunpowder, gelatine
xxxdynamite with a laser beam
xxxguaranteed to blow your mind
The hall filled up relatively quickly, which Rosie was pleasantly surprised by. She spotted Kay bounding around, handing out flower crowns and trinkets. The small smiles they produced didn’t escape her notice, and that meant a lot. People looked scared, and confused, and angry. A smile wouldn’t change or erase any of that, but it was a start. It made things seem a little less terrible. Kay quickly ran up to the front and threw her a necklace, which Rosie caught and pulled it over her head, before going to stand at the podium as the last few stragglers came in.

“Good evening, everyone,” she said, and silence fell over the room. “Okay, wow. This isn’t high school English, don’t worry, guys, you can relax,” she added, getting a few giggles out of the crowd. “It’s wonderful to see so many of you guys here. Thank you to the wonderful Kaylessa for these trinkets and to everyone who brought anything. I know that things have been scary
 and I know people are afraid. But we rallied around tonight, and that’s a good start. We fought them off once and we can fight them off again. So, let’s get this started. First, Chief Kaner is going to discuss what the police force is doing and what volunteers are needed for them, then I’ll open the floor back up for a discussion. So please welcome Chief Kaner to the stage and hold any questions until the end.”

Rosie took her seat as the police chief stood up to drone on about increased vigilance and whatever. He had never been the most engaging of speakers, but Rosie had long ago perfected the art of listening to boring speakers. Her students tried, but some were always more engaging than others. It was only as the crowd gave polite applause that she came back to herself, getting to her feet. "Thank you, Chief Kaner. So, now that we're aware what the police are doing, it's time to discuss what we can do. So, first up is... voluntary patrols. I'm aware some have already been running, so would anybody like to fill us in and let us know what we can do to help?" She asked, glancing down towards Markus. She highly doubted he would speak up, but maybe someone else might.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Phoenix Woods Character Portrait: Alex Garcia Character Portrait: Zada min Albahr Character Portrait: Jaiden Price Character Portrait: Rosie Thompson Character Portrait: Neden Isimir
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by mombie
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e l i j a h x p a t r o v

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t h e x v a m p i r e
#7B5653 || Outfit || townhall

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The man was typically known for his punctuality, but he was late tonight. His broad frame wandered down the street; his figure moving along like a shadow floating quietly and darkly beneath the soft light of the moon. His hands were in his pockets and strking blue eyes flitting from here to there. Another black figure dashed in the dark, but he knew it to be the Demon's Hell Hound, so he pressed on and continued down the pathway down these lonlier town streets to the slightly busier townhall.

Since the attack, he has felt very much the same. When one is such a hunted species as he, there is no surprise that the Mortals always came. They destroyed everything, and it was only ever a matter of time. The Supernatural were never safe - not in a thousand years past, not in a hundred - not in this modern day. This was the life he was used to, and he has grown understandably callous to the casualties that come with this. It wasn't his fault. It was simply that life was so tragic that tragedy has become his sense of normalcy, thus this, to him, was the way of the world. For others, however, perhaps it was not. Everyone thought this would remain their home unscathed by mortal persecution, and that was their own fault. He felt bad for them, sure, but there was nothing he could do to ease anyone's pain. Not that they'd listen given his rather unearned reputation.

Just as the townhall came into view, though the humdrum inside has been playing into his acute sense of hearing for a while now, he noticed Markus and Jai outside. He pulled his hands from his pockets and braced their lower backs, some strange gust of wind parting the doors. Elijah always had this gravely calm tone of voice; masculine and gutturally harsh with notes of his mother-tongue. It resonated gruffly, yet strangely... melodic and calming. There were many ways to describe his voice, but confidence, command, and ease were the easiest to remember. "Going in?" It was one of those inquiries that might normally be accompanied by a smile, but instead, he gently guided them both through the doors with the placement of his hands. Was it one of those strange protective things that were subtle in nature? Perhaps. It was dark outside, and the streets were dismal as the town gathered.

Once the trio made their way into the Hall, the Vampire took a moment to take in Rosie's words. After the blurbs by the Chief and Rosie were done, he simply walked down the aisle. His eyes hardly met anyone else's, and he continued because who was going to stop him? No one. No one really liked him. Everyone stayed away from him. He liked it that way. It could stay. They could be afraid of him or call him what they will, but he didn't care about any of it. He's too old for the petty drama. Though he did sneak a side-peek toward Zada, but swiftly drew it away. He was just checking to make sure she was still there, even though he could smell her. Everyone has their own unique smell.

His steps ceased in front of Rosie, and two hands were placed upon her as gentle as a man could be; one of her elbow and another at her shoulder. He didn't smile, there was no expression to his otherwise serious features, but he tugged at her with something that could be easily misconstrued as asserting his masculinity over her. He never thought about it that way, but he was an old fart and she knew that he didn't mean any ill by it. There was the slightest hint of a smile for her in that fleeting second he believed no one was looking, however.

Once she was out of his way, he took his place in the front of the Hall. His hands grasped either side of the podium and he finally looked at each and every being in the room. He stopped at no one in particular as he commenced to speak with his deeply rumbling and harsh Slavic tongue, "They will come again - we know this because history always repeats itself. This is nothing new to some of us, but it is always tragic. This would be the time to put aside petty differences and settle the feuds in our community - to stop being each other's enemies." This time, his gaze falls pointedly on Camila. He likes her, but damn - she's such a handful and she's grown particularly less manageable and more agitating.

"We have many tools at our expense - more than our enemies if you ask me. They are stronger than mortals, but we are stronger. It is in our nature. There is a power-imbalance, and we hold the advantage. The problem is that we didn't know they were coming, but now we know. If you think you can't help, then you're going to die. You're going to cause someone else to die. Everyone in this town is a cog in the machine that runs it, and it's our duty to defend it."

He shifts away from the podium for a moment and then steps beside it, "If you own a business, perhaps you can help create a rallying point as a place of safety for those who can't fight. The town hall, for one, is easy to secure with the proper people. The bar and other stores - use them to stow weapons or tools that will assist us in fighting back. You may think that these people are gone, but I can assure you that they will return. These are zealous people that can trace their legacies spent persecuting others back centuries. But they do not always win, and we do persist. Speak up. I, for one, am out from sundown to dawn. Camila has her dogs on patrol day and night. There are people that will protect you even if you think they will not. A little less self-pity and more preparation will judge whether Greythorne will persist, too. So even if you don't think you have anything to contribute - search deep. Everyone can." He looked to Rosie for some sense of affirmation or something, and then just dipped to a seat someplace in the middle by himself.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Phoenix Woods Character Portrait: Alex Garcia Character Portrait: Travis Graveson Character Portrait: Camila De Santo Character Portrait: Elijah Patrov
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If Alex hadn’t heard her coming, he may have jumped when Camila touched him, but her the sound of her heels was impossible to miss, and he would know her voice anywhere. When she spoke directly to him, greeting him, he smiled, "Gracias,” His voice was low, almost a purr of appreciation, and he continued to speak as she tilted his head (he never minded her taking charge), "Te ves hermosa hoy." He hadn’t seen her yet and wasn’t rushing to get a look, either. He didn’t even turn to look as she walked away, though he did cast a sideways glance at Phoenix, almost as if to check if he was still there.

The beginning of the meeting was boring enough, just like every speech or update Chief Kaner had ever given. Alex tried to listen closely, but found his mind wandering, mostly with the realisation that enough wasn’t being done, and the idea that half the residents of this town may never be prepared for another attack, himself included. Almost all at once, it seemed, the chief finished his update, and Elijah took the podium.

Alex didn’t have anything personal against Elijah, but found the vampire’s distaste of Phoenix unsavory. Still, his words pricked at Alex’s ears, and he was right. Alex knew it all too well. The hunters would be back, and if they caught the town off guard again, more would die. Maybe all of them. They knew what they were up against now, no doubt the hunters would come more prepared next time. The speech was meant to be inspiring, and it probably was, but Alex didn’t hear much of it past the ringing in his ears. He took in a few snippets, though. He needed to get it together, and fast.

Suddenly Alex felt like his head was swimming, and he felt like he was going to cry- or die. He didn’t know for sure. Coming to this meeting had been a mistake. He thought getting out might be good for him, he wanted to know what was happening, how he could help, but he obviously wasn’t ready for this. He needed some space, some air. A moment to think. Maybe he should go home.

He stood up, fairly abruptly, scooting his chair back behind him. The sudden movement and noise was slightly startling to the people around him; though most of them thought nothing of it when they saw who it was suddenly jumping up out of his chair. Alex had a long history of being impulsive and jumpy, and given his recent experiences, no one in town could really blame him for being more on edge than usual. Everyone knew what had happened, after all; news travels fast in a small town, and everyone was a little worried of what Alex would do if he never mentally recovered from the attack. Or, now, what he may not be able to do.

Without apologising or saying a word to Phoenix, he turned and all but ran out the doors, desperately hoping that no one would follow him. He just needed a minute, needed to clear his head, then he could go back inside. Or maybe he needed to go home. He had a cigarette lit (no small task, thanks to his hands that wouldn’t stop shaking) almost the moment he walked through the doors; he’d never smoked consistently, it was always a crutch in times of stress, and he’d quit ‘for good’ nearly two years ago. Lately he had found old habits creeping back in, settling in as if they’d never left. As if he hadn’t spent the last two years of his life playing catch-up, trying to grow up and become an adult.

Out in the cold air, he swore he could hear voices carried on the wind, calling out his name. As if to beckon him forward into the darkness, to his end. Calling him home. He knew that the spirits wanted him back, they’d nearly had him once before, and if he didn’t get a grip soon they might just catch up to him, after all. He didn’t slow down for a moment, having decided to just go home. He come to the meeting, he’d tried. He couldn’t do it. He needed to calm down, then he could figure out how he could help. He could do something.

Phoenix knew this meeting was important, but he found himself struggling to concentrate on anything anyone was saying. Even as Elijah stood up to give a grandiose speech, possibly meant to inspire them all to stand up and fight, he instead found himself watching Alex out of the corner of his eye. Coming here might have been a mistake. Maybe they should have just stayed in Abuela’s, or gone back to Phoenix’s instead and drank tea and talked shit for a while. This had been a bad idea, and the guilt of getting Alex to come was beginning to settle in to his stomach.

And then, suddenly, Alex shoved himself to his feet and practically ran out of the hall without a word. A few people around them turned to look, and Phoenix instinctively shot them an apologetic half-smile as he got to his feet and silently pushed their chairs back into place. A distraction arrived in the form of Travis standing up to make a speech, just in time for Phoenix to follow Alex out, his heart in his chest. Things had been worse than he’d imagined. This had been a mistake. They shouldn’t have come.

“Alex,” he called, but Alex didn’t turn or otherwise respond. Phoenix strode after him, catching up easily, just like he always did, just like he always had, even when they were kids. “Alex,” he called again as he got closer, but Alex was lost in his thoughts. So Phoenix reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop as he reached him. “Alex. It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re safe. Come on. Talk to me. What’s wrong?” He asked, stepping as close as he dared and lowering his voice to speak softly, keeping his hand on Alex’s arm.

Alex felt his chest tighten, and panic flared back up in his mind. It was just Phoenix, and rationally he understood that, but he was already on edge, and Phoenix grabbing his arm like that, it just set him off. He froze, only for a moment, as if his brain just couldn’t fully process what was happening. He felt frustration rise in his chest; he was frustrated that he couldn’t handle the meeting, that Phoenix had followed him out, but mostly he felt himself growing increasingly frustrated by his own panic and fear. He felt like his life was falling apart, and that he was just getting in the way everywhere he went. He felt the panic and frustration meld into a frantic sort of anger, not unlike a wounded, cornered animal. He flinched away from Phoenix, ripping his arm away from his friend’s touch, and turned to face him, “Don’t touch me.” He spat, voice dripping with venom. He hadn’t meant to snap at Phoenix, but he didn’t stop there. “You wanna know what’s wrong?” He lowered his voice, but nothing in his tone was soft. He’d never spoken particularly harshly to Phoenix, not even when they’d disagreed. There had always been some sort of affection, or humor, to cut the sting of his words. He didn’t try to keep the anger out of his voice this time.

“I have been there for you through everything. Every pain, every heartbreak, every stupid decision. Even when I was hurting, or lost, or
 Whatever. I have always dropped everything to be there for you.” He held up a finger, as if daring Phoenix not to say a word, “I
 I practically died, Phoenix! I was alone, and you left me there. All for what? Some asshole who left you heartbroken the next day!” He shook his head, he knew he should stop, but his heart was pounding in his chest, his ears were ringing, and he felt completely out of control, “And you’d known him, what? Two weeks?” He scoffed, “And now look at you. Now you’re
 You’re blond now? Trying to look like him?” Alex rolled his eyes, his tone would’ve been condescending if he didn’t sound so furious, “What a pathetic attempt to hold onto someone that didn’t even care about you enough to say a proper goodbye.”

Alex shrugged and took a step backwards, as if he suddenly couldn’t stand to be so close to Phoenix, “I really hope it was all worth it. I certainly learned a very valuable lesson about what kind of person I should be putting my trust in.”

Phoenix stumbled back the moment Alex pulled his arm away, realising that he’d made a mistake. And then Alex started speaking, and Phoenix just stared at him in confusion. He’d never heard Alex speak to
 anyone like that. It felt like he was listening to somebody else in Alex’s body.

Phoenix wanted to comfort Alex. He wanted to ignore everything he was saying and drag him home, make him hot chocolate, and tell him to sleep it off and he’d feel better in the morning. He wanted this to be something they could move past. But every word felt like a kick to the chest. And what hurt the most? It was true. It would have been easier to dismiss it if it had been empty, if it had been just delusions. But it explained so much. It explained the distance that Phoenix had started to feel ever since the attack. It drove home the guilt that Phoenix had felt for weeks now as well as the heartbreak of being abandoned again. That look of disgust as Alex stepped away from him felt like somebody had driven a knife between his ribs and there was a moment where he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“You ungrateful asshole,” Phoenix choked out, not realising he was crying until the tears were streaming down his cheeks. “Are you forgetting all the times I fucking talked you down after a nightmare? I let you pass out on my couch because you got too drunk? Pulled you away when somebody was about to kick your face in because you flirted with somebody you shouldn’t have?” He was yelling now, and he wasn’t going to be able to control it. It was a defense mechanism, kicking in so nobody would see the pain and the hurt. “I make one mistake, one mistake I have regretted ever since, and I’m the monster?” He could feel a familiar tug somewhere in the back of his mind, the tug that meant he was losing control of his abilities. He couldn’t let that happen, not here. He needed to get out of here, needed to go. He ripped the flower crown from his head and hurled it at Alex. “Go fuck yourself, Alex.” He turned and stormed away, the tears still streaming down his face.

Phoenix’s words didn’t hurt. They were true, and Alex hadn’t forgotten any of it, he just didn’t care. The things Phoenix had done right in the past just couldn’t erase the pain and betrayal he felt. He let the flower crown hit him, not caring enough to move or even try to stop it, and when Phoenix turned to leave found himself calling out, “We’re all monsters, Phoenix! But you’re a fucking coward!” The words left his mouth before he’d even stopped to consider what he was saying, just like everything else he’d said that night. He found himself beginning to tremble; so he turned, and started walking home. This was the last place he wanted to be. If Phoenix was a coward, Alex didn’t know what that made him.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Phoenix Woods Character Portrait: Alex Garcia Character Portrait: Rosie Thompson Character Portrait: Neden Isimir Character Portrait: Violet Marsden Character Portrait: Travis Graveson
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PHOENIX WOODS
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outfit : herex|xhex: #c4a7be
xxxsome things have changed
xxxwe don't fit like we used to
xxxit's hard to ignore if it's worth the wait
xxxit might just fool you
Phoenix didn't know what he wanted to do. He didn't know where he wanted to go. No, it was that he knew exactly where he wanted to go. He wanted to go to the same place he always went when he was hurting this much, where he knew it wouldn't hurt quite as bad. He wanted to go to Alex's. But that option was gone.

Oh, the irony.

It was only when Violet gently put a hand on his shoulder that he realised he hadn't gone anywhere at all. He jumped a little. Her being able to touch him was... weird. Wrong, almost. She'd changed too, since that night. Well, they'd all changed. But Violet more so than most. Why? What had happened? Why did nothing make sense any more? What had that attack done to the town?

Her words were firm, but not harsh or uncaring. He wanted to explain. He couldn't just go back inside. He couldn't just pretend everything was fine because it wasn't. The flowers that had begun to grow through the concrete, unaffected by the bitter cold, their bright colours almost an insult, was a testament to that. Everything wasn't fine. He wasn't fine.

"You're a fucking coward." The words echoed in his head, made the lump in his throat feel like it was smothering him. All he wanted to do was run and hide. That was all he had ever wanted to do and it hadn't served him well so far. So why was he still so afraid?

But somehow, somehow, he found it in himself to turn and go back inside, stopping only to wipe the last of the tears from his cheeks. He stood at the back of the hall as Neden made their grand entrance, flanked by two Spriggans. Their dramatic flair would have usually made him smile, but not tonight. Tonight, he could barely muster a half smirk. Part of him wanted to prove Alex wrong. Prove he wasn't a coward and sign up to protect the town. But no, he couldn't do that either. Instead, he stared at his feet, trying and failing to calm down even just a little bit.



ROSIE THOMPSON
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outfit : herex|xhex: #cc0460
xxxshe's a killer queen
xxxgunpowder, gelatine
xxxdynamite with a laser beam
xxxguaranteed to blow your mind
The silence that hung in the air as she asked if anyone would like to speak lasted just a second too long, and Rosie knew it. But then Elijah made his grand entrance and made his way to the stage. She let him move her, ever so gently, forever the gentleman, but his glancing smile was met with an eyebrow raised just a little. It was gentle and gentlemanly and entirely innocent, and they both knew that, but also she would have stepped aside without having to be moved.

His speech was intended to rouse and bring hope, and while it may have been best delivered to a group of soldiers instead of a group of terrified but angry townspeople, it seemed to rouse a few and comfort a few others. She gave him a nod and a smile as he looked at her for confirmation. Before she could step back up to the podium, however, Travis got up.

His speech was... slightly less well received. Rosie could hear the angry mutterings from the crowd. Travis had a point, she had to admit. The town was showing signs of division, and while she was quelling it as fast as she could in her classes, she couldn't do much about the rest of the town. But the town was angry, and they were scared. They were afraid of humans, especially of newcomers who didn't have any link to anyone in the town. Fear did bad things to people, and people did bad things because of fear. Showing off his injury wouldn't gain him any sympathy. Everyone in this room had either been injured themselves or had lost somebody in the attack.

The angry mutterings continued, and Rosie was about to take back control of the crowd when Markus spoke up. Almost reflexively, she raised her eyebrows. He barely liked talking to people one on one, let alone in front of a crowd this big. It was brief, but did the job, and it seemed to quiet the crowd a little, or at least turn the murmurs a little more positive. He shot her a look that she understood all too well. He was done talking now and needed somebody to take over. Rosie stepped up to the podium- but before she could say anything, the doors swung open, and in walked Neden. There was a brief moment of confusion as people realised that there appeared to be two of them- and then one of them revealed themselves to be a spriggan. The real Neden, with their usual overdramatic flair, added on that anybody was welcome to join the patrols. Rosie just raised an eyebrow and smirked a little as they assured her that the town was perfectly safe. She doubted it, but at least Neden and Markus appeared to have the whole thing under control and were competent. She cleared her throat as Neden and their group of spriggans took their seats.

"Alright then. So, thank you all for your speeches and your contributions to the safety of the town. If nobody has anything else to contribute, I think we'll wrap it up there for tonight. I understand there's some refreshments down the back. Thank you," she said. The crowd began to chatter, a mix of emotions filling the room as she headed towards Markus.

"Hey. Thanks for that, I think we, uh, needed a change of tone after Trav's speech." She said, raising her eyebrows knowingly.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zada min Albahr Character Portrait: Rosie Thompson Character Portrait: Neden Isimir Character Portrait: Travis Graveson Character Portrait: Markus Valegood Character Portrait: Camila De Santo
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Z a d a min Albahr

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Outfit & jewelry - #78b0ad
There is nothing less interesting than being in a town full of people you hardly know, or worse, that you don’t like. Zada had few friends in town, and while she was sure most of them would attend the meeting, she was fairly content to mind her own business while she waited. Even after years of living on dry land, she wasn’t very good at small talk; unless it involved seduction.

She wasn’t surprised when Camila settled in at her side, she’d heard the demon’s heels the whole walk to the front of the room, and she’d spared a quick glance to see who it was. She raised her brow as Camila spoke, eyes darting to the hands resting on her thigh. A smile smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a sort of mischief twinkled in her eye, but only for a moment. ”You’re free to join me any time I’m at the lake,” She spoke, voice as serious as ever, ”The meeting is important. I want to figure out how to help.” She reached over, brushing her fingers across Camila’s face to tuck a non-existent stray hair behind her ear. ”Any other day, though. I’ll be there.” This was both a promise, and a simple fact. Zada swam in the lake nearly daily, only really stopping when the lake froze over and she couldn’t access the water.

Then Rosie started to speak, and Zada found herself turning towards the podium. She looked aloof and disinterested (then again, she nearly always did), but she was listening intently. She hardly moved when Chief Kaner spoke, she had a high tolerance for boring speakers, and he wasn’t even the worst she’d seen.

When Elijah took the stand and began to speak, her expression did change slightly. To was a sad, knowing look. She hadn’t been alive anywhere near as long as some of the residents of the town, but Zada had still been on earth long enough, and had spent enough time with humans to know their nature. He was right. They would be back, they would be more prepared. They knew now that this was a town with a fighting spirit, and no-doubt they had the experience needed to extinguish their flames. Zada didn’t have any experience fighting back against humans, but she knew plenty of what cruelties they were capable of.

As Elijah took a seat, Travis came forward, and she had to fight to keep from staring daggers at the man. Truly, he had done nothing to deserve any measure of hatred from her. Still, the lessons she’d learned about human men were learned with blood, broken bones, and burned skin; they were difficult lessons, and they would not be easily unlearned. She felt no sympathy for him when he spoke, his kind had been known to kill witches and werewolves for less. Markus spoke next, which was somewhat surprising, but she found his words easier to digest. Perhaps only because she liked him more than Travis, or perhaps because his words gave her something to truly consider. Neden and, frankly, she didn’t much care for their theatrics and dramatism. Zada didn’t find it very helpful, and it was mostly distracting, but she had to admit it did give them a certain charm.

It wasn’t long after that when Rosie wrapped up the meeting, and Zada had someone she wanted to speak with. She leaned over to Camila and said a simple, ”If you’ll excuse me.” Before standing up and making her way back to Travis.

She normally didn’t have much to say to the human, but his little speech gave her something to think about. She stood in front of him and crossed her arms before saying, ”It would do you well to remember that most of us have a bloodline that includes centuries of persecution by humans,” While she spoke, her face was expressionless; it was a simple fact, and didn’t metic hysterical emotion or a big speech, ”Many of our ancestors were hunted down and killed for the simple crime of living. If you want to be trusted, you need to prove to us that you are trustworthy. Many of us were hurt in the attack. You are not special.”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rosie Thompson Character Portrait: Neden Isimir Character Portrait: Kaylessa Valven Character Portrait: Travis Graveson Character Portrait: Markus Valegood Character Portrait: Elijah Patrov
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KAYLESSA VALVEN
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outfit xxxxxxx hex; #FF4500
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xxx If I'm a bad person, you don't like me
xxx Well, I guess I'll make my own way
xxx It's a circle, a mean cycle
xxx Sometimes I wanna fuckin' scream or run away,
xxxI can't excite you anymore

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Kaylessa sat forward and listened to what Rosie and Chief Kaner said with her undivided attention. She went to many of Chief Kaner’s meeting in the past, usually sneaking in or bringing goods to pass around to the small people part of the Greythorne’s police force. Most people lived in peace in Greythorne and if there were any incidents or problems between people, they would usually be solved before Kaner’s people stepped in. Kay was one of the first people to start clapping after Chief Kaner got done talking but quickly stopped as Elijah stood up and walked to the front of the hall to give his speech.

Kay was engrossed by Elijah’s speech and she hung onto every word he said. She was scared at first when he said they would be back and they would need to be ready, but he was right. He spoke about how everyone can do something, but Kay wasn’t sure what she could. Besides her healing power,which she almost exhausted herself to death with, there wasn’t much she could do. She wasn’t much of a fighter as she was never taught how to since not much happened in Greythorne, and if something did, her mother or Rosie would keep her out of trouble. When Elijah there was less of an applaud as people tried to take in what he had said.

Travis spoke as well, and Kaylessa could tell and feel that people didn’t exactly like him or what he was saying, or even both. She didn’t really understand why they felt that way. He was just saying what he thought was needed, which was the purpose of this meeting, as well as sharing that he was hurt as well. Kaylessa remember the day she walked into his store and saw him in a sling, and quickly tried to heal him, but he told her he wanted to let it heal on his own, it was how he had done with all his scars; its what made him human. She also didn’t understand why people didn’t seem to trust Travis, he had brought new business and items to their town, always offered to help around with people and even gave Kaylessa numerous gifts, there was no way she couldn’t not trust him.

Though the person who spoke that surprised Kay the most was Markus, who was usually known to be more secluded and quiet. What he spoke of didn’t really of importance to Kay since she already believed Markus, Neden, and the others on the patrols would keep them safe and prevent anymore attacks. She was actually on her way out when she just about bumped into Travis talking to Neden about if he could help even though he’s human and they might not want him. “Oh! I think Trav would be helpful, he told me stories about him being in their weird human fighters thing” Kay quickly said before Neden could get a word out, standing next to the human. “It’s called the Army, but atleast you’re getting closer with how you describe it Kay.” Travis quickly corrected her with a smile and light chuckle. “Yeah yeah, but if these people are humans, sorry Trav, then maybe he could help. Like they used stuff that hurt us more than hurt him, so maybe?” She continued. She wasn’t exactly trying to vote for Travis to be part of the patrols, but more so speaking her mind and what she thought might help. Travis was a much more of a help to the patrols than she could ever be.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alex Garcia Character Portrait: Zada min Albahr Character Portrait: Travis Graveson Character Portrait: Camila De Santo Character Portrait: Elijah Patrov
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#, as written by mombie
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c a m i l a x d e x s a n t o

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t h e x d e m o n
#ecaa53 || Outfit || location

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e l i j a h x p a t r o v

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t h e x v a m p i r e
#7B5653 || Outfit || Location

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Neither demon nor vampire would be that affected by the violence that would ensue later. The truth was pretty simple - Camila and Elijah were near pariahs in one way or another, justified or not, in this town. Elijah had always just had a quiet and peaceful existence here, whilst also falling into the realm of being subjected to certain untruths simply because of who he chose to be around. Rather, that he chose to be around no one at all. Camila, on the other hand, was just a woman people hated because of a man. Truthfully, it was a tad grating, given that she's never done anything to be genuinely loathsome. Without actual friends here in Greythorne, what did more death mean to them? Nothing. Camila would go back to Hell, and Elijah would move on. That's all it meant.

The lumbering man watched the fiasco that was Alex and whatshisface (he forgets sometimes), and Camila's eyes were on a certain mermaid's retreating bottom once Zada had stood up to say a piece. The gal was right - Humans would never understand their persecutions and the injustices. Hell, they do it to each other - which is the most fascinating and terrifying thing of it all. Humans had no boundaries when it came to who should die and who should live, and much of that to blame is on God and fearmongering.

Elijah (and Hell, Camila, too, but for a totally different and more lecherous reason), almost broke his neck as his gaze followed Zada to the Human. He waited until Travis departed after certain words were likely exchanged, and then stood up to begin removing himself from this area altogether. He didn't much like being in this place with the entire town, and it certainly wasn't safe to be huddled together.

His movement earns the attention of Camila, whose heels click-clacked for only a swift few seconds before her presence was right in front of him. She looped an arm through his own after stepping to his right side and suggested "I say we go to your house, pop open one of those unnecessarily expensive bottles of scotch, and just let the town do as it will."

She had noted that Alex ran out with Phoneix, and the smallest of pangs of guilt crept into her chest. Did she do that? The pair had bolted out of the door and some argument likely took place on the streets. Everyone was so vulnerable and touchy, but she didn't blame them. Not one bit. There is a lot to be nervous about, and death is one of them. Once the mortals latch onto something, their teeth and claws never relent. Tensions would rise as the level of fears did, and that's exactly what they hope will happen. It always happens. Both Camila and Elijah know that there is a pattern to things, and this is irreversible and hard to get away from.

"You are not going to go find Alex?" He looked down at her with a puzzled expression, leading her down the aisle and toward the exit.

She looked up at him, her brows knitted together as he had decided to shove himself into personal problems. If one could call it that. "Not right now. I'll just mess things up, and well - if I am going back to Hell soon, maybe it's for the best that I allow his... relationship with the boy to... go undisturbed." It took her a few seconds to choke those that two words out, but it was true. Time is fleeting and she didn't want to make Alex hate her, too.

"An act of selflessness?" He teased her, a sly grin having crept across his lips. He knew that would bother the hell out of her, but he dished out a light jab here and there. He moved through the door with Camila in tow to bring them down the empty streets in the direction of his home.

"I wouldn't call it selflessness," she shrugged at no one in particular. "We'll call it... concentrating on the bigger picture."

The pair would soon be at the steps of his large and lonely home; a desolate place where it was always as cliche as cliche could get when it comes to all the thoughts one might have of a Vampire's dwelling. It was a haunt, that's for certain. Camila and Elijah disappeared through its doors, and likely wouldn't be out unless something were to occur.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Phoenix Woods Character Portrait: Alex Garcia Character Portrait: Zada min Albahr Character Portrait: Jaiden Price Character Portrait: Rosie Thompson Character Portrait: Neden Isimir
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ROSIE THOMPSON
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outfit : herex|xhex: #cc0460
xxxshe's a killer queen
xxxgunpowder, gelatine
xxxdynamite with a laser beam
xxxguaranteed to blow your mind
Rosie just raised an eyebrow and shook her head a little as Markus asked if his speech was any less awkward. “It was fine, not shitty at all, Markus. You need to give yourself a little more credit,” she said, with a half grin. The update at least put her at ease. She couldn’t go on the patrols, what with having to mark papers and prepare for her classes, but Markus had at least been keeping her in the loop. In a time like this, she'd found herself taking some degree of leadership on this thing. Mostly, she used the information to advise her students to stay away, or to answer any questions they did have. She couldn't do much, but she could try to protect them. Markus turned to walk away, having updated her in his usual brief manner, but instead Neden reappeared in their usual energetic manner.

The grin on Rosie's face rapidly disappeared as Neden mentioned what they’d found during the week. “No. No, he didn’t.” She said, turning to stare down Markus. She just sighed as Neden explained that they’d had a hiccup. And that they now had a guest. She knew exactly what that meant, unfortunately. It meant things were now more complicated than they had been two minutes ago. Neden disappeared as quickly as they’d appeared under the pretense of getting food. Rosie turned fully to Markus.

“Were you going to bring this up?” She asked, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow. “Markus, if there’s one of them, there could be more. What are you going to do with our little
 problem?” She asked, keeping her voice low, little more than a hiss to prevent anyone overhearing. “We need to deal with this.” She glanced around and saw Travis looking at her, giving a wave. She smiled back and return the wave, before turning back to Markus. “As quietly and as quickly as possible.”

To give Markus his credit, he told Rosie the full story once they left, away from where they might be overheard and cause a panic. They thought the hunter might be a valuable source of information, but he hadn’t said anything yet. His training was surprisingly good, and he hadn't cracked yet. But he couldn’t stay locked up in Markus’ basement forever, and they needed to do something with him. They spent the next few days trying to hatch a plan. Rosie could use her abilities to get him to talk, reveal everything him knew. But she wasn’t eager to do that. If he escaped, her giving away an element of her ability could potentially be used against them. It was only when she was in Travis’ shop, picking up a few things for dinner, that she had her brainwave. Getting a human to talk to the hunter could work. Let them think there was somebody on their side. Someone who could help. And they wouldn’t be giving away a tactical advantage.

Their plan came together relatively quickly after that. Rosie made a stop into Phoenix's café on her way home from class and managed to talk him into bringing Jaiden and Violet out for drinks. Markus and Rosie had both agreed that they needed to get Jaiden and Violet out of the house, just in case things went wrong. And a third party would keep them accountable. That and, well, from what Rosie could see, they all needed a night out with friends. She hadn't seen Jaiden that withdrawn since she'd first arrived in Greythorne, and now she was possibly worse than she had been then. And as much as Phoenix was pretending that everything was fine, Rosie knew it wasn't. She didn't know the details, but the marked absence of Alex from Phoenix's surroundings seemed to be part of the problem. And Violet had changed too, but possibly the least. Rosie could still see the old Violet every time she went to Markus'. She'd changed, of course she had. They all had. But Rosie could still get a smile out of her, which was more than she could say for some of the others.

She headed straight over to Markus' after class. Travis wasn't going to be finished for another while, but Rosie wanted to be there early in case Violet and Jaiden needed more persuasion, and because, as ever, she had essays to be marking. She wasn't sure whether or not Neden would be coming or if they were doing patrols that evening.



PHOENIX WOODS
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outfit : herex|xhex: #c4a7be
xxxsome things have changed
xxxwe don't fit like we used to
xxxit's hard to ignore if it's worth the wait
xxxit might just fool you
When he'd woken up the morning after the meeting, everything had felt like a horrible dream. And then it hit him again. None of it had been a nightmare. It had happened. And it felt like somebody was kicking him in the chest all over again. But he'd gotten up, as normal. He'd gone for his run, taking a different and slightly harsher path, but one that he knew meant would pose less of a risk of running into Alex. He'd gone home, showered, and gone to work.

And that had been his routine. Pretend everything was normal. Pretend that he didn't stare at his phone, waiting for a text that didn't come, writing texts he'd never send. Pretend that it didn't feel like somebody had cut off his left arm. Sure, he didn't need it, but not having it made things so much harder.

Abuela still came in, like she always did. Phoenix couldn't lie to her, couldn't tell her everything was fine. He gave her her usual supplies of bread and pastries when she came in instead of dropping them over before or after work.

"He misses you too, Phoenix, querido. He just can't say it." He didn't need to say anything. Abuela could always read him like a book, and lying would be a waste of time. He just smiled sadly and handed her the bag of baked goods.

Get up. Go for a run. Go to work. Pretend like the dark circles under his eyes didn't give away the fact he was snatching only a few hours of sleep every night and that that sleep was seldom restful. Nightmares plagued him from the moment he closed his eyes. And it wasn't like he had anyone to talk to them about.

He knew from the moment he saw Rosie's face that she was back into "caring english teacher" mode, and it at least gave him a couple of seconds to brace himself. But she didn't mention him, just said that she'd been around at Markus' and thought Jaiden and Violet needed a night out. He didn't know how she managed to talk him into agreeing to bring them out. But she had always been extraordinarily persuasive, even without having to use her abilities, so he found himself having committed to the plans.

He'd taken his time getting ready, waiting for an excuse to arise that would mean he didn't have to go. Going would just be a few more hours of pretending that everything was fine. It was bullshit, everyone knew it, but Jaiden didn't need his stupid crap on top of everything she was dealing with. He'd even put on eyeshadow and eyeliner to stretch it out, but eventually, there came a time when he had to leave to go meet Jaiden and Violet at Markus'. Shoving his phone in to his pocket, he turned and left, making his way across town.

He knocked on the Markus' door and was let in by Rosie, who chattered in her usual charming way, giving out about her freshmen. He just smiled and nodded, forcing a laugh at appropriate points, and mostly just prayed that Violet and Jaiden would appear soon. He loved Rosie, but he just... wasn't in the mood for that constant chatter right now.