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Astrid Herondale

"Resist much, obey less,"

0 · 746 views · located in Earth

a character in “Our Safe Haven”, as played by LivyGrey

Description

โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘
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โ•ญโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ•ฎ
Astrid Herondale
"Resist much, obey little." - Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

Tell Me || ROAM

Dialogue Colour || #93E7AA
Thought Colour || #808080
โ•ฐโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ•ฏ

โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘
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N A M E
      Astrid Blu Ophelia Herondale

N I C K N A M E ( S )
      Astrid (Anyone )
      Blu (Friends)

R O L E
      Rebel Resident 2

G E N D E R
      Female

A G E
      17

S E X U A L I T Y
      Bisexual

M A R I T A L S T A T U S
      Single

P O W E R
      Pyrokinesis - Ability to manipulate, control and have immunity from fire.

โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘
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โ•ญโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ•ฎ
APPEARANCE
โ€œI have not the pleasure of understanding you.โ€ - Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
โ•ฐโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ•ฏ

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H A I R
      Medium length, dirty blonde wavy hair.

E Y E S
      Dark brown

H E I G H T
      5 foot, 5 inches. .

W E I G H T
      121 pounds

E T H N I C I T Y
      Caucasian.

O T H E R
      -

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โ•ญโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ•ฎ
Personal
โ€œThere are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.โ€ -Bram Stoker, Dracula
โ•ฐโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ•ฏ

โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘
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P E R S O N A L I T Y
โ•”โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•—
xxxโœฆ Intellectual โœง Spirited โœฆ Impressionable โœง Sensitive โœฆ Physical โœฆ
โ•šโ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•

      Astrid is a very physical person, she finds refuge in human contact and even goes as far as speak with her hands and her body. Gestures are all a part of the deal with Astrid and she can't even talk intimately without moving her hands and waving some how. It's vastly unnoticed by most people because she hides it so well but Astrid is a strikingly emotional person, prone to tears and upset. Due to this part of her personality, the only way she ever really finds comfort or manages to forget about things troubling her is through human contact, hugging a friend, holding someone's hand, playing with someone's hair. That's how Astrid finds her calamity when everything gets out of hand. Intimacy is her strong suit and it's her comfort zone too. She's good with words but still believes actions will always speak louder.
      The important thing to remember about Astrid though is her incredible level of intelligence. She has a flair for languages, though she speaks impeccably and has a unique way with words in her own language, she follows this in French, Italian, Welsh, Mandarin and Portuguese. She speaks six languages and has practiced them well since she was a child, it all stemmed through her vain attempts to impress her parents whilst she was young. Though this is only one example of how far her intellect stretched, academically had she stayed at home in private education, she could of outperformed her peers even in an Ivy League school and even now when all she needs to know is how to control her flames, she still likes to read and educate herself.
      Astrid is also a spirited, out spoken and feisty character. She's not afraid to put up a fight or start a debate. She won't take anybody's stick and she's not someone who's easy to fool either. She can see straight through a scheme and doesn't live to please others and live up to their standards anymore. After everything that happened with her family, she couldn't care less for an adult's approval and it's widely known now, she couldn't care less.
      She is also however, hugely emotional. She thinks with her heart and for all the toughness she tries to make out she has, she's a real soft touch underneath it all and is a sucker for shy or quiet people however, even though she's emotional she hasn't cried since she was 11. She usually expresses her emotions using her pyrokinesis and is known to go seek out water bodies to practice her power by when she's upset. She goes to places with water as a way to prevent any fire spreading if something went wrong but she knows it's incredibly risky anyway. With this emotional nature comes the fact she's sensitive and easy to hurt but also how impressionable she is, if you knew her history and the things that hurt her the most, she'd be very easy to manipulate and get on bored even with all her intelligence and wit.
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Details
"We need never be ashamed of our tears. " -Charles Dickens, Great Expectations
โ•ฐโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ•ฏ

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ImageL I K E S
      โœฆHeights - With a burning passion for climbing and the sky, it only made sense for Astrid to enjoy the sensation of being up high.
      โœงSummer - Being so closely bonded with fire, it's only natural for her to find peace when there is warmth.
      โœฆBeanie Hats - She thinks they're cute, she often wears them herself but anyone she spots wearing one is someone to befriend.
      โœงAnimals - Though she isn't really sure why because she's never had a pet or even been to a zoo, Astrid does find a certain appeal in the company of animals.
      โœฆCombat Boots - What isn't too like about a spunky pair of black boots? They're her signature.
      โœงStar Watching - Even though the nights are cold, stars burn white hot and she finds star gazing key to reminding her of her own insignificance. They're the only thing that feels like it's the same here as it was back home and sometimes, as much as she loathes her blood relatives, it's nice to remember the idea of a real family.
      โœฆDavid Bowie & Queen - A slight music nerd, Astrid was insists these two powerful artists are the best of the best.
      โœงHuman Contact - She's someone who needs to feel loved and cared for, she finds that feeling in human contact and it's her favourite way to be reassured.
      โœฆBass Guitar - She likes the sound and she enjoys punk and funk music, so it became something that struck her as fairly iconic.
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ImageD I S L I K E S
      โœฆ Jazz - Astrid was struggle to name even a single thing to like about jazz except maybe people who hate jazz too.
      โœงWater - This probably explains itself but she doesn't ever swim and showers are kept as being very brisk.
      โœฆTravelling - Stability is something she likes to have in her life, especially when it comes to what she calls home.
      โœงWriting - Astrid has a lot going on behind those chestnut eyes and she struggles to focus any of it long enough to focus on writing, she claims to get headaches from writing long.
      โœฆTexting - She finds it anti-social and prefers the real thing.
      โœงAlcohol - Surprisingly, she's completely straight edge. She holds the unpopular opinion of alcohol being a stupid idea ad hasn't drank since the first time she tried it.
      โœฆFavouritism/Bias - Considering the way she grew up and where it got her, she's come to despise people who go about life being bias.
      โœงReligion - She thinks it is all as fictional as Harry Potter and will occasionally put an intelligent argument about it if you spark her up enough about it.
      โœฆLarge Groups - 1x1 is where Astrid finds herself feeling safe, big groups intimidate her and are way out of her comfort zone.
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S T R E N G T H S
      โœฆIntelligence - She's a bright cookie, in every meaning of the phrase.
      โœงLanguages - She has a natural flair for learning new languages, she prides herself on fluently speaking 6.
      โœฆConversation - She has a way with words and charisma is one quality you can't take away rom her.
      โœงSpeed - Although athletic, physically she isn't the strongest person however speed comes naturally to her as long she keeps fit and in shape.
      โœฆWillpower - If Astrid wants to do something and is committed to something, she'll do it and there will be no stopping her once her mind has been set.

F L A W S
      โœฆBlunt - She doesn't beat around the bush and is often mistaken for being rude by those who haven't known her long.
      โœงDamaged - Her childhood damaged her mentally and anyone who understands what happened to her could easily bend and manipulate her, that's the only reason she's labelled a rebel now- they got into her head.
      โœฆEmpathetic - Astrid is very empathetic to people, especially young people and quieter people but it means she gets too involved in things emotionally.
      โœงEmotional - If you learnt how Astrid works, she'd be easy to control. For all her brains and intelligence, she thinks with her heart too often and not her head. It has got her in too many bad situations through time.
      โœฆIrrational - She doesn't always think for herself or stop to think.

Q U I R K S
      โœฆ Prefers to speak in French - Although her parents were English speakers, she learnt French from a young age and became the language she was more comfortable speaking.
      โœงFear of Water - When touching or submerged in water, Astrid cannot always use or if she can use it, control her pyrokinesis. She knows it's irrational but the fear is known to leave her with crippling anxiety.
      โœฆAmbidextrous - She can hold things, write, play and do everything with both hands to equal ability.

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โ•ญโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ•ฎ
History
!There is a fatality, a feeling so irresistible and inevitable that it has the force of doom, which almost invariably compels human beings to linger around and haunt, ghostlike, the spot where some great and marked event has given the color to their lifetime; and still the more irresistibly, the darker the tinge that saddens it."
Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter
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      Astrid grew up in an incredibly prestige human family, she was born to overwhelmingly overjoyed parents in 1999 and was raised in France and England, for 11 years splitting the years with six months in each country. Astrid's parents was an ex-Hollywood director and her Mother a socialite, so she was nurtured to be civilized, ambitious and independent. She retained all these qualities from her upbringing and as a child, Astrid held nothing but the upmost respect for all adults- especially her parents Jackson and Rosalind Herondale. The couple bore only two children, Astrid the youngest by four years but easily the most favoured and spoilt child. Her brother, Jasper was born in 1995 and is now 21.
      Growing up, there was no one more important to Astrid then her family. `She was never aware of being abnormal, peculiar or gifted, the only blessings she knew of were her wealth and impeccable talent for learning languages. Living in the spotlight however, taught Astrid to always remember what was important and that is a lesson she remembers even if her priority has since changed. Before, it was her family over her own life, the world or her dreams; the most important thing to her was her family and she lived to please them. Attending a high end private school, practicing all kinds of hobbies and talents from music to sport to academics. She did everything in her power to cover it all and be the best she could be. She tried to act adult, so she could fit it into her Mother's elitist world and for many years, she did. She'd sit with the women when her Mother hosted meetings to plan functions and events, she'd even offer her assistance in decorating venues on the day of these gatherings. She was very, very involved in everyone's lives at home and was very, very loved; especially by Jasper.
      Astrid and Jasper had incredible bond as siblings, bound to each other by love, duty and loyalty. They played together civilly at all the times, not even their friends could account a time where the two siblings rowed; it never happened in their entire lives of being in each other's company. They did everything together, Jasper even once filed in for Astrid's dance partner once when they fell ill on the day of Astrid's grading exam. She used to pretend to interview Jasper's girlfriends and determine if they were fitting and of enough standard for him and he'd always listen to her as well and even played along when she was trying to convince him he could marry the girl she admired in her gossip magazine. Their relationship as siblings was so rare and so perfect, it just made it pure tragedy when it fell apart.
      Astrid fitted in to that world so beautifully, she almost never found out that it wasn't truly her world. Somewhere down the line after her eleventh birthday. Astrid grew upset after being criticised by one of her Mother's friends but the agitation grew when the woman proceeded to insult Astrid's brother calling him arrogant and foolish, the matter was because of business between her Mother, Jasper and this woman but Astrid didn't understand that and took the offence personally unknowing to what would happen afterwards. Astrid stamped her foot in protest when the woman continued to verbalise fouls about Rosalind and no one noticed but when she did, a spark flew off her foot like an ember but when this woman proceed to slap Rosalind, Astrid ran forwards and her entire figure ignited in a way science could never explain. Astrid was supernatural and no one could explain why.
      The unfortunate means in which Astrid discovered her pyrokinesis meat it engrossed her family with fear instead of admiration and understanding. They cast her out and paid off the woman with millions to enforce her silence. They gave Astrid a small amount of money to access when she turned of age and threw her out to live at an orphanage for a while until they discovered the safe haven and sent her here.
      Astrid being only a child at the time was filled with hurt, angst and misunderstanding. She didn't know why she'd been abandoned and past about like an unwanted parcel. She found refuge at the safe haven but her parents refusal to accept her- even her brother, refused to save Astrid from being sent away. The day she turned on fire, he'd locked her in her bedroom at their Mother's request until they decided what they'd do. He locked her in her bedroom and when she struggled, he clamped her mouth and kicked her hard enough to make her sob. Astrid never forgave him. As a teenager living in a haven full of strangers, self-loathing branched into loathing her parents also and years on, the rebels violated her delicacy and pain to convince her to join them; reminding her of how she was abandoned as a child and changing her mind, warping her to eventually believe she supported supernatural supremacy and that humans deserved oppression. She'd never truly put her heart into that kind of opinion or view, but her pain and suffering was something they could manipulate against her to improve their numbers and strength and unfortunately, Astrid fell straight into the trap.
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โ•ญโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ•ฎ
Theme Song
"I got a gun for my mouth and a bullet with your name on it
But a trigger full of heartbeat pulling from an empty pocket"
-Out of the Black, Royal Blood
โ•ฐโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ•ฏ

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โ–ŒOUT OF THE BLACK /|\ ROYAL BLOOD

      How did it feel when it came alive and took you
      Out of the black
      It broke your skin and shift through
      Every part of me, every part of you

      You made a fool out of me
      And took the skin off my back running
      So don't breathe when I talk
      'Cause you haven't been spoken to

      I got a gun for my mouth and a bullet with your name on it
      But a trigger full of heartbeat pulling from an empty pocket

      I never knew why
      And you didn't care when
      You closed every day
      I washed away your sin

      And I promised you like
      You promised me
      That those vows we made
      We boxed them in for free

      You made a fool out of me
      And took the skin off my back running
      So don't breathe when I talk
      'Cause you haven't been spoken to

      I got a gun for my mouth and a bullet with your name on it
      But a trigger full of heartbeat pulling from an empty pocket

      You made a fool out of me
      And took the skin off my back running
      So don't breathe when I talk
      'Cause you haven't been spoken to

      I got a gun for my mouth and a bullet with your name on it
      But a trigger full of heartbeat pulling from an empty pocket

      And it's hard, this world
      Never lets you go, deals a

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F A C E C L A I M: Bridgit Mendler


C O P Y R I G H T

Character Sheet By : Ameliaisghostly
Inspired By : The Toxic Cereus
Filled Out By : @LivyGrey

โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘
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So begins...

Astrid Herondale's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Danny Griffin Character Portrait: Jane Wolfe Character Portrait: Hope Grimshaw Character Portrait: Liesbeth Reitveld Character Portrait: Alexander Qing Character Portrait: Astrid Herondale
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#, as written by Airy
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โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”
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โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”
โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ
Jane has always hated this part -- the leaving. It is not unusual for people to leave the Safe Haven, it's a place for people to stay if they want, and to leave when they want or feel ready. It's always been a bittersweet situation. Jane considers anyone in the Safe Haven as Family, and as Family, she always wants whatโ€™s best for them. If what they think is best is for them is to leave, then sheโ€™s all for it and will support them and always welcome them back, but itโ€™s always hard to lose someone, to say goodbye. It's especially worse in those cases where some just up and leave without a word. It's harder not to be able to even say goodbye.

She remembered the last time she saw Nakoda at the house, the day previously. All seemed fine. It was maybe late into the afternoon, almost the evening. She was in the kitchen when Jane went in to grab a cup of tea before escaping for the rest of the night to the little shed on the property where all her paints were. Nakoda seemed normal. Usually, the residents who up and left seemed nervous for a day or two before they vanished. They were always a little anxious -- always had that little crease on their forehead that showed how hard they were trying not to blurt the whole truth out or say something telling. It's only happened twice before, people up and leaving in the night, but both residents had come back maybe a few months later just to let the house know they were okay. It was utterly nerve racking not to know what happened or where they are. They always left like that because they wanted to leave without having to say goodbye. Some people don't deal with those well, it was understandable to a point, But there's always the concern in the back of Jane's head that it was something else, someone else. It was no different in this instance.

It was early in the morning, around six A.M, just when the sun was just beginning to rise. Jane stood in the open doorway of Nakoda's room. It looked the same. It didn't seem as if she had taken anything with her. The bed was still mussed from where she had slept, either from last night or the night before. Something was odd. Most people would at least take some possessions with them, whether it be clothes or some little knick knacks that held emotional significance. Then again, some people wanted a completely fresh start. Someone else had left all their stuff once before as well.

Jane walked into the room, a bit tentatively and slow. She felt sort of like she was crossing some personal boundary. Without touching anything, she looked at the desk and around the room, searching for a possible trace of a note. There was nothing. An odd uncertainty and anxiety settled in her stomach, and before she had any other thought, Jane left the room and raced down the steps to the front door, throwing on her coat to protect her from the cool morning air that greeted her as she closed the door behind her. It was possible Nakoda went into town before Jane had woken up, but she never heard anything. Nakoda also wasnโ€™t the type to take an early 6 A.M stroll into town, but Jane had to look. She didnโ€™t usually do this, she didnโ€™t hover over the residents and expect them to tell her their location at every point in the day, but Jane just had a bad feeling about this, and her impulsive nature took control.

The town of Boothbay Harbour was maybe a thirty-minute walk away from the house, less time by car. Jane tended to always opt out of taking the car, considering she always had the fear in the back of her mind of crashing it. But, as much as she would prefer to walk, she knew she didn't have the luxury of the extra time it'd take her to get to town without the car. She had no idea when Nakoda had left -- if she would still be in an around the area. So, the sooner Jane could get around, the sooner she might find out what happened. Unlocking the car in which was the only one of her father's she hadn't sold when she got hold of all her parent's possessions, she quickly backed out of the lot and drove down the empty early morning road, her green eyes flickering in every direction, trying to find the girl.

A familiar row of shops greeted Jane as she drove into the town. Even though it was early morning, it was busy. People sat at small cafรฉ's, joggers went by in groups, couples walked their perky dogs. It was the summer time; it was always busier in the town during summer. Boothbay was a known tourist area, and where Jane didn't really like the excessive amount of people, she was grateful that for the rest of the seasons, everything went pretty null and quiet. As much as she liked to travel and experience new things, she still wasn't the greatest fan of crowds.

Jane spent a good two hours driving around the small town which should only take around twenty minutes to get around entirely. Jane went up and down every one of the all too familiar roads at least five times each. She even went out of the town bounds for a bit as well, but there was still no trace of the familiar looking girl. In a final attempt, Jane pulled into one of the parking spots at the long stretch of beach and sea. She wasn't able to drive around the entire perimeter, and she knew this beach had a long span of land. It was unlikely Nakoda was here, but this was the only other place Jane could think of to look. Closing the car door behind her, the familiar smell of the sea and the humid breeze that often calmed her nerves, as it reminded her of the feeling of home, did little to soothe her still anxious state. She felt distracted; she only had a single goal in mind. Jane began walking up the sandy area, but despite passing a few people during the long walk, none of them was Nakoda. It was possible Jane had missed her, or at least she hoped, but three hours had passed since the start of her search. If Nakoda had just gone for a walk, sheโ€™d most likely be at the house by now. If not? She was gone.

On the drive back home, Jane stopped in a little market just to pick up some food as the home stock was running low. She tried to shoulder all five paper bags herself, but mixed with her distracted state and bad shoulder, they began dropping. Reluctantly, she let the bag boy help her take the groceries to her car and load them up for her. Giving a friendly thanks, she got back into her car and drove back home.

The house was large, there was a lot of space in which someone could be. Before she had checked Nakodaโ€™s room early in the morning, she made note that she had not been in any other part of the house that morning. There were a lot of empty rooms some of the residents liked to escape to, but theyโ€™d all been empty when sheโ€™d checked. Popping the trunk of the car, she took out three bags, intending to go back and grab the other two later, before she went up to the house and struggled to unlock the door. As soon as she entered inside, she dumped the three bags on the kitchen counter, and still with the single focused goal in mind, went around the house, calling down every corridor, โ€œNakoda? You here?โ€, but got no reply from the girlโ€™s voice she wanted to hear.

Nakodaโ€™s room still looked the same, empty and untouched.

Going back down the stairs, she made her way into the kitchen and sat herself down on the one of the stools at the counter, unease sketched on her face. She hoped Nakoda had left without saying goodbye. As much as Jane wanted a goodbye, and as much as it would hurt not knowing why she left, it was better than the alternative. It was better than the alternative that maybe someone had taken her or someone had done something to her. Jane just needed to know.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Danny Griffin Character Portrait: Jane Wolfe Character Portrait: Hope Grimshaw Character Portrait: Liesbeth Reitveld Character Portrait: Alexander Qing Character Portrait: Astrid Herondale
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                        They hadn't slept in slightly over two days. A lamentable fact and a decision he had begun to truly regret, but there was little he could do about it now. Fatigue was beginning to show on the faces of his group, and he was certain it was beginning to show on his face (he could certainly feel it--cement legs, iron shoes, weighted head), but still he continued on, picking his way through the thick foliage of the forest.

                        It had been about twenty minutes since he left his group behind, telling them to wait half an hour before following. By his estimations, he had about another five minutes to go before he'd reach the building he'd once called home, giving him, probably, just over twenty minutes to figure out the situation with Jane and Owen before his own crew came bursting in through the doors. And, now, just under five minutes to figure out exactly what he was going to say.

                        He ran over the last three days in his head (all the horror of it, the running, his heart pounding in his ears, the struggling, the short screams, the sheer number of them. The loss.), trying to formulate what words he could use to describe everything that had happened, and everything it meant to him. He half wished he'd brought Alexander along--he was good with words, far better than Elias would ever be-- but he knew this was an entrance he'd have to make alone. He started at the beginning.

                        xxxx; EARLIER | THREE DAYS BEFORE

                        They were just crossing over the border into Maine. Their last big stop had been in New York, where they'd managed to shut down a small group of Hunters, only six in number. He'd avoided making a public demonstration of it then, for New York was a big city, and he'd hate to be caught in an ambush by a group much larger than just six bodies. For months, he'd avoided returning to Maine, whether out of fear or shame, he wasn't certain, but the fact remained. The problem was they'd gotten word (thanks, in large part, to both Alexander's gift and to his own fists) of another group of hunters operating in Maine. Which was troubling, to say the least. He didn't agree with the lives Jane and Owen led, but they were still family, and he still loved them both. Unfortunately, the defeated Hunters didn't know all the other group's going ons, and he wasn't able to ascertain their number or their exact location. He figured he'd follow the trail of reports strange events and then subsequent missing people adverts.

                        They were just crossing over the border into Maine, and they kept moving for another three hours before they started to lose light. He pulled the truck (stolen, thank you, Alexander) over into a small grove, told the gang to rest up for a couple hours before they started out again. He took the opportunity to get some shut eye himself. He didn't get much sleep. He was up in just a few hours-- it was still dark outside-- though he couldn't pinpoint a reason. Some vague disturbance. A quick head count revealed why.

                        He took a few minutes to search the surrounding area. Went as far as the edge of the grove before he heard noise. Muffled screaming. The visual came later. Four of them, carrying Lucy away, another four flanking, and a discussion about how they'd report into the others about the girl they caught in the woods. He was too far away from the rest of the group. He tried to tail them, but all of those stupid fucking branches and twigs. He narrowly escaped a bullet to the shoulder.

                        They booked it all the way north, and Elias insisted on driving the whole way. Which brought him to just four hours prior. It was just before dawn, the rays of the sun just touching the horizon, turning it a deceptively peaceful pastel image. He wasn't eager to go through town, even at the early hour. They ditched the car about two miles out, picked their way around the outskirts of the town and towards the house. And they ran dead into another kidnapping.

                        Hunters, clearly, and this close to the Safe House meant that the girl was certainly under the protection of Jane and Owen. He'd wanted to out and get her, to fight like all hell to take down the Hunters, of course he did. But they were all so tired, and he knew they wouldn't have a damn chance, powers or not. Their only shot, her only shot, and Lucy's too, was to continue on the path they'd been on. They walked another half hour in silence. So much silence. They stopped almost twenty minutes away, and he told them to give him some time to speak with Jane and Owen alone.

                        xxxx; PRESENT

                        Just under five minutes became just under two minutes, then just under a minute, and then there was the door and the sound of his knocking reached his ears before he could fully comprehend that he was moving his hand. There was blood rushing in his ears, and he hated the uneasy sensation settling in his stomach. How long had it been? Four months, five? Longer? He didn't know anymore.

                        He stood at the door for what couldn't have been more than half a minute, but felt like hours-- jaw tense, brow furrowed, breathing so deep his lungs ached. At some point, his mind cleared (somewhat marginally), and he realized knocking was probably not the best option. Who knew what stranger might open the door.

                        He pushed the door open, peering into the familiar surroundings. It was familiar but not, the way your car seems to be when somebody else is driving it. It hurt him, in some intangible and irrational way. "Jane," he called into the large house, waiting for the slight echo to pass. "Owen." He made his way through the rooms, in the general direction of where he heard far-off sounding voices. The kitchen looked the same as it used to. Though most of the faces there were new.

                        He hadn't worked out what he was going to say, not exactly, but he'd at least worked out some sort of vague outline. He had, but he could recall so little of it. He swallowed, but his throat felt dry. "Hi, Jane," he managed to say, and his voice sounded thin in his ears. It was not everyday he saw and spoke to ghosts. He'd never thought he would.

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Character Portrait: Liesbeth Reitveld Character Portrait: Astrid Herondale Character Portrait: Lucy Smith Character Portrait: Elias Averesch
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TWO MONTHS AGO


Thereโ€™s only one true philosophical question โ€“ that of suicide. It was often that Alexander would ponder what Camus had said. Not that he was suicidal or anything, he had moved beyond that point long ago (though it could be argued that his constant smoking constituted some Freudian death-drive). Alexander didnโ€™t believe in death-drives, or any drives really, biological determinism simply wasnโ€™t his thing. He liked his philosophy rough and unpolished, like the taste of a pack of American Spirits. Maybe that was why he had left the Mafia. Or maybe because they had set him up. He had never been sure. Alexander brought the cigarette up to his lips and drew in the acrid smoke. It was delightfully unhewn.
Beside him, a slight chill rustled the plain curtains. โ€˜So, have you been cutting down on your smoking? Like you said you would?โ€™ A fragile voice floated towards Alexander from the young woman lying on a bed behind him. She looked barely sixteen. Her voice was much like the smoke emanating from his lips, it wafted gently into the vast expanse of the world, thinning and diminishing, until at last โ€“ nothing. He craned his neck around, with one side of his mouth twitched up in a smile, and replied โ€˜Oh most definitely, Yuukio. I havenโ€™t had a cigarette in days, perhaps months,โ€™ Alexander stopped momentarily, partly in order to take a lengthy drag from his now rapidly disappearing cigarette, partly in order to pull out a battered phone from his pocket with his spare hand. A green notification flashed up on the screen โ€“ โ€˜ELIAS AVERESCHโ€™. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and snuffed out the dying cigarette on the windowsill. โ€˜Was that something important?โ€™ enquired Yuukio, shifting slightly in the sheets, the assorted tubes and clips around her groaning as she did. โ€˜No,โ€™ smiled Alexander, โ€˜it was just the boss, wondering how you are.โ€™ Yuukio smiled back โ€“ she knew he was lying. Alexander dropped himself down into the sterile looking chair beside the bed. He reached out towards the desk beside Yuukioโ€™s bed, and grabbed with his slender fingers a bright orange book, โ€˜Did you like it? The Dostoevsky I got you?โ€™ he asked, absent-mindedly flicking through the pages as he did so. โ€˜I liked it, I think. He reminds me a lot of you, yโ€™know,โ€™ grinned Yuukio.
โ€˜Who? The Underground Man or Dostoevsky?โ€™ Alexander grinned back.
โ€˜Both of them. Youโ€™re a tortured existentialist and an intolerable dickโ€™
โ€˜Maybe I should stop buying you books,โ€™ laughed Alexander, mimicking mock-injury, โ€™Iโ€™m going to get you something like Jodi Picoult or Jane Austen next time โ€“ stop you thinking so much.โ€™
โ€˜Just cause Iโ€™m sick doesnโ€™t mean I canโ€™t think, Alex,โ€™ she retorted, โ€˜besides, youโ€™re the one always harping on about the importance of education and literacy. What did you get me today?โ€™
โ€˜How do you know I got you something? Maybe I didnโ€™t feel like it.โ€™ Yuukio responded with a look of mock-disappointment, crossing her arms across her thin chest, crinkling the blue hospital gown. Alex laughed, she knew him too well. He reached into the leather satchel on the floor beside him and pulled out a pale-white tome. โ€˜Hereโ€™s your required reading for the week, Yuukio, a bit of Wittgenstein, seeing as you love to talk so damn much. The Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus .โ€™ She reached eagerly out for the book, arms weakly flailing about, as if a small child determined to grasp their carnival prize - a terribly endearing sight to be honest. Alexander gingerly lay the books in her pale hands, almost worried that the weight of the bound paper would press upon her too much.
โ€˜Whatโ€™s it about, Alex?โ€™ Asked Yuukio, running her fingers over the cover.
โ€˜Itโ€™s all about languages, and how it limits and delimits each and every one of our worlds. Ludwig Wittgenstein was a brilliant and tortured man, youโ€™ll enjoy it very much โ€“ I think youโ€™ll definitely appreciate his Picture Theory of Language.โ€™ Yuukio looked down at the book, eyes gleaming with genuine pleasure. Alexander reached back down into the satchel and pulled out two more books. โ€˜Yuukio, Iโ€™m leaving these here for you as well,โ€™ he said, placing them with the all the other books on the bedside table, โ€˜I wonโ€™t be able to visit you for maybe a month or two.โ€™ Alexander arose from the barely padded chair โ€“ he was sure he could sit no longer before scoliosis set in. โ€˜Where are you going, Alexander?โ€™ asked Yuukio, laying down the newly acquired book. Alexander smiled, and leant forward as if performing a particularly deep bow, and pressed his lips lightly against her forehead. โ€˜Get some rest, Yuukio, youโ€™ll see me soon.โ€™ He picked up his bag, and strode out the door.


As Alexander walked down the corridor he pulled out his phone, that of the cracked screen and faulty volume. He opened up his messages and scrolled down to ELIAS AVERESCH. The name had a little lollipop emoji beside it. โ€˜How are the negotiations going, oh captain my captain?โ€™ he typed. He slipped the phone back into his pocket. Alexander hated prolonged contact with that devil-brick in his pocket. In fact, he hated contact with most technology. He knew that as technology continued to insidiously infest their lives, there would one day, perhaps not far from now โ€“ where machines would rise up against humans. He just knew it. But now was not the time for his musings on the downfall of humanity. Alexander arrived at the ward nursesโ€™ station. A rather pretty blonde sat behind the desk, typing busily on the old computer. The pink scrubs fell perfectly over her form. โ€˜Excuse me,โ€™ said Alexander, putting on his most innocent smile as he peered down at her nametag, โ€˜Zoe, how are you today?โ€™ She looked up from the screen and into the face of what she could only describe as one of the prettiest boys she had ever seen. Was he handsome? No, he was pretty, definitely pretty, she concluded. Maybe it was actually a girl? In that case, she was one of the prettiest girls she had ever seen. But no, that voice was definitely that of a maleโ€™s โ€“ a most hypnotising one at that. Putting on as pleasant a smile as she could muster, being an underpaid New York City healthcare worker on a rainy Monday morning, she replied, โ€˜Iโ€™m very well, sir, how can I help you today.โ€™
โ€˜Well,โ€™ Alexander drawled, โ€˜Iโ€™ve noticed that the television in Room 402 doesnโ€™t get any cable. Iโ€™m sure itโ€™s just a clerical error.โ€™
โ€˜Oh, let me check the system,โ€™ she replied, โ€˜whatโ€™s the patientโ€™s name?โ€™
โ€˜Yuukio Mikado, 13 years old.โ€™
โ€˜The system says that sheโ€™s not paying for any extras, including cable television. Iโ€™m sorry, sir, but we can only offer cable to paying patients.โ€™
โ€˜Is that the case?โ€™ Alexander smiled, and as he spoke, his eyes seemingly flashed a dark shade of purple, โ€˜But Iโ€™m quite sure weโ€™ve made the necessary payments for all the extras on offer. All of them. It must be an administrative error.โ€™ A strange sensation seized Zoe. Her mind went blank. All she could feel was a strange pressure on the back of her mind, pushing her, no, now shoving her to do something. Oh, that was right, she had made an administrative mistake. Yuukio Mikado had made the necessary payments for all the extras on offer, but she had screwed up. โ€˜Oh,โ€™ Zoe muttered, โ€˜I made an administrative error.โ€™
โ€˜Yes, Zoe, youโ€™ve made an administrative error,โ€™ repeated Alexander, his eyes now a deep violet, โ€˜you should probably correct that right now and send someone up to Ms Mikadoโ€™s room to bring her all her extras.โ€™
โ€˜I should correct that now and send someone up there,โ€™ concluded Zoe, by now already inputting the new information into her computer. Alexanderโ€™s eyes returned to their normal shade of black and he headed for the elevator as the blonde nurse reached for the phone.


***



PRESENT DAY


Alexander shifted uncomfortably. The roots of the tree he was sitting under cut into his arse. It made him exceedingly agitated. Although, to be completely honest, it probably wasnโ€™t the tree roots that made him so anxious. The things he and Elias had found, the things they saw on their way up here, Lucyโ€™s kidnapping, they all contributed to the maelstrom in his heart. He reached into his pocket and reached for his smokes, there were only two left in the pack โ€“ enough for the rest of the day, maybe. He flicked a cigarette out the pack and lit it. Elias had been gone maybe five minutes, yet Alexander was already worrying for his safety. It wasnโ€™t that he didnโ€™t trust Elias to protect himself, it was just that at times it seemed like their whole endeavour, everything they stood for, rested entirely on Elias. The whole faรงade would come crashing down without him. He was basically the most important person in the world โ€“ for them, of course. Alexander wondered what Lies and Astrid were up to, he would get up and look for them, but he had taken one too many Alprazolam and, well, he couldnโ€™t quite feel his body. He was sure theyโ€™d be fine, they were capable people after all - perhaps even sensible. Besides, he felt so good right now. Alexander mustered the strength to bring his cigarette up to his lips. It taxed him so when he used his powers, and the headaches never stopped. The fact that they had been travelling for days without end and proper rest only winded him more. Another migraine seized him, sending spasms down his neck. He needed a bed, some rest, another pack of smokes. But it wasnโ€™t the time to talk about what he needed, he had spent enough of his life being selfish. Elias, Lies, everyone needed him to be strong right now. Alexander sighed, more Alprazolam would have to wait until they found a safe bed, all of them. He wondered how Yuukio was doing.

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