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Owen Pugh

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

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
Owen Pugh

Red Sky || Jack Steadman

Dialogue Colour || #082a4f
Thought Colour || #174f72
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
      John Owen Pugh

N I C K N A M E ( S )
      Owen
      Helen Keller (by a particularly nasty foster brother)

R O L E
      Safe Haven Creator

G E N D E R
      Male

A G E
      19

S E X U A L I T Y
      Heterosexual

M A R I T A Lย  ย S T A T U S
      Single

P O W E R
      Healing
      Increased healing factorโ€ขย Capability to heal himself and others โ€ข Can accumulate injuries and diseases and pass them onto objects and people โ€ข Heightened pain threshold

โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘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•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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__________________________________.H A I R
      Dark brown; naturally curly (loose), kept relatively short

E Y E S
      Blue grey; clear

H E I G H T
      6'0"

W E I G H T
      177 lbs, slightly lean build

E T H N I C I T Y
      (Ashkenazi) Jewish, Polish, Welsh

O T H E R
      Several scars and calluses on his hands from work that he doesn't bother to heal

โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘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
Personal
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•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•—
xxxโœฆ Placid โœฆ Pacifistic โœฆ Restrained โœฆ Determined โœฆ Hardworking โœฆ
โœฆ Sober โœฆ Self-sufficient โœฆ Warm โœฆ Honest โœฆ Friendly 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•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•

      To anyone who isnโ€™t acquainted with Owen, he may come off as severe and unfriendly. He is silent, normally carries himself in a serious manner, doesnโ€™t communicate as much unless someone else initiates, and moves about in a very decided manner without seeming too calculated. However, this demeanour is the result of multiple tragedies and having to mature quickly to ensure he would take the beating after those tragedies.
      For most of his life, he lived as self-reliant as he possibly could even with support. He believes he will eventually serve as a burden to someone if he overstays his welcome by being too reliant on peopleโ€™s generosity. As such, he adopts a go-getter mentality, trying as much as possible to get things done and by himself. (For example, he did much of the renovations in Safe Haven himself, repairing as many structures as he could and only bringing in contractors to do whatever he couldnโ€™t do.)
      His deep love of learning and want to be prepared for whatever circumstances come drives him to develop his skills and knowledge in whatever endeavour he pursues, always making sure to do his homework before launching into something. He wants to ensure that there is a measured amount of confidence he maintains in order to leave no room for self-doubt or error. However, catch him unprepared and youโ€™ll see him scrambling to come out of it strong. He wonโ€™t cover up any errors and is prepared to admit when he is in the wrong, but his scrambling to save face is for another reason entirely.
      With the creation of Safe Haven and its mission to provide a safe, stable home for users of power, however transient or permanent its denizens may consider it to be, he wishes to project an image of strength and security for those who have little to none of it. He keeps his own behaviour closely monitored. If he fails, he will consider himself a failure to the people he wants to help and protect. As such, he may come off as stiff.
      Those who do know him, however, know that he is deeply dedicated to the people he cares for and takes care of. He will do whatever it takes to prevent significant rifts and conflicts in already existing relationships, as he believes it is important to maintain truly strong bonds with others regardless of their being related by blood. Living a lonely, aimless life is not an answer to him.


โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘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
Details
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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__________________________________.L I K E S
      โœฆChildren - To him, there's a certain delight in observing the way they always seem to find new ways to do things, or are able to emulate behaviours. However, he also sees the danger in this. He generally has a protective instinct towards them out of a want to ensure a better childhood for themโ€”so they don't act out like he did.
      โœงTravelling - Prior to his father's death, he and his family used to travel because of talks his parents used to give elsewhere. Those memories of better times helps him push through the day.
      โœฆReading - He aspires to getting a bachelor's degree one day, but in the meantime he picks up any book he can get his hands on to learn, and to gain more insight as regards differing perspectives.
      โœงExercise - Any form of exercise would do. It helps him to distance himself and clear his mind before making important decisions as well. He occasionally does so with Jane to pass the time, though he knows not to talk to her then when she's being particularly intense.
      โœฆMinty sweets - He will usually have these within reach, especially when he needs a pick-me-up.
      โœงBaking - Occasionally. When his fingers are itching for something to do.
      โœฆCollecting mementos - He reserves an area in his room for things he's been given or collects from places. He's catalogued some of them, but some others have yet to be organised.
      โœงAutumn - The one time of the year where the weather seems to agree. (Spring follows behind in a close second.)
      โœฆVolunteerism - Choice has always been a heavy part of his morality. He particularly appreciates being able to contribute without expecting much in return. He worked homeless shelters and as a teaching assistant at a deaf school whilst he was in foster care.
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__________________________________.D I S L I K E S
      โœฆBeing photo 'ambushed' - He's not very fond of having his picture taken, and it's even worse if he isn't given forewarning.
      โœงMistrust - He knows its potential to be one of the most ruthless sources of conflict. Though he isn't spared from the feeling himself, especially given the number of times he's been left behind, he actively tries to be more trusting of others. The last thing he wants is to fall into a rut.
      โœฆInflexibility - He thinks it's a liability to anyone to maintain completely unmovable paradigms. Their inability to learn keeps them from moving forward in life.
      โœงDrawing too much attention to himself - He can deal with small bursts of it, but when he becomes the centre of it he has no idea how to cope and can easily get flustered or snap at someone.
      โœฆThe smell of roses - He's been to too many funerals to be able to bear it properly.
      โœงCigarette smoke - He doesn't understand the appeal that smoking has, with people knowing the consequences it has on their health.
      โœฆLashing out - He has managed to get most of the anger he had built up when he was younger out through healthier means and recovered enough to have a generally calm demeanour. However, there are times when he does slip, and in most cases he immediately regrets it.
      โœง'Pranks' - Basically actions that border on harmful or even deadly that get justified as jokes when they're called out for it. It's a lack of respect for others that disgusts him. He also hates statements along the same line.
      โœฆNot being able to prevent things from happening or protect his loved ones (when he knows he is able to) - After not being able to save his family, he has a deep-seated fear of not being able to do more good for the people he cares about deeply.
โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘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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__________________________________.S T R E N G T H S
      โœฆSang-froid - Having been faced with particularly tense situations before (that he had to diffuse), he developed a sense of equanimity to try and evaluate positions properly.
      โœงResourcefulness - In his opinion, far too much is put to waste. Whether it's finding new ways to make use of the rubbish in Safe Haven or investigating, he will try, as much as possible, to use whatever is around him.
      โœฆLove of learning - Something he had inherited from his parents. This serves a dual functionโ€”he is able to absorb as much as he can around him, even if the sources are particularly questionable, and it helps keep the memory of his family alive.
      โœงKindness - He believes there's no particular reason why one can't afford kindnesses to other people. Being belittled at different points in his life drove him to want to avoid that in other people by offering his help, among other things.
      โœฆStrength -Explanation

F L A W S
      โœฆHesitant - As the type of person who wants to go over all options, he sometimes hesitates when he's unsure or when there's an unclear course of action.
      โœงIndecisive - Linked with the above. This indecisiveness may give way to hasty and unexamined decisions.
      โœฆTimid - His experiences following the death of his family turned this previously-reserved young man further. Although he is actively trying to break it down for better communication's sake, especially as he and Jane have a refuge to run and people to help, there are times when his own timidity gets the best of him and prevents him from pursuing opportunities.
      โœงStiff - Linked with the above. Others may initially have difficulty trying to lure him out of his timid shell, and may dismiss him as stiff as such.
      โœฆBlunt - He can be extraordinarily bluntโ€”something he inherited from his parents' outspoken nature. He doesn't see the need to sugarcoat things if being more honest moves the situation forward. As such, Jane does the sugarcoating for him when she interprets what he thinks. Of course, his doing this depends on the context.

O T H E R
      โœงMute - He has not spoken for almost four years ever since the death of his brother.
      โœฆPlays instruments - As a means of release, he plays the guitar, harmonica, alto sax, and drums. He'll sometimes play small gigs with a jazz band in a local bar.
      โœงSound sleeper - It's going to have to take a lot more than just a shake and calling his name out to wake him up. He keeps several alarms up to wake him in stages.
      โœฆMore expressive body language, mouthing words - He has to get his point across when signing, after all. He's more toned down around Jane when she can speak for him.
      โœงEnjoys working with his hands - Cooking, baking, shopwork, repairsโ€”whatever he can do to keep himself busy, he will do.

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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
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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      Both his parents were academics. Parry Pugh, a native of Swansea, was an associate professor of biological sciences and an ecologist with a soft spot for disadvantaged communities. His partner Johanna Kaplan, who was Polish but was raised predominantly in the US, had a doctorate in mathematics, taught engineering and architecture and had, at one point, worked for an architectural firm before she decided things were moving too quickly for her own good. They had met through friends whilst they were both in university, and later had an interesting sort of long-term relationship that some wouldn't call sustainable. Despite the fact that both of them were independent by nature and had their own lovers (their love for their individual disciplines), they managed to make things work. They lived in Winnipeg for several years after completing their respective master's degrees, and had interestingly come to the decision to do so after a dice roll.
      They hadn't planned on becoming parents, although their finding out they'd have more to share their arrangement with wasn't unwelcome. They shifted their lifestyle to accommodate dependents. Parry contemplated names and helped build a fund for them with as much as he could scrape from their combined incomes. Compounded with her nesting instinct, Johanna's meticulousness drove her to plan as much of her children's early lives as she could, even down to day he and his twin brother Oliver would be born. After their trip to attend a conference and visit their motherโ€™s extended family in Wrocล‚aw, they would be born at St Boniface Hospital. She had a birth plan. They even had two contingency plans in case they arrived either early or late. All was going to be well. Each time she made those self-assurances, Parry shook his head in amusement.
      Well everything did turn out to be, even if Johanna bore her twin sons in the bathroom of her motherโ€™s house.
      They lived in Winnipeg for two more years until teaching opportunities cropped up for the couple, and they decided to move to Albany, New York to be closer to work. Two more years later, they decided to marry, though mostly for the legal benefits. In the Pugh household, there was nary a dearth of three things: stacks (of books, papers, photographs and newspaper clippings, drawings and schematics, papers yet to be graded), things on the wall (same things in the stacks combined with the twins's drawings and more personal photographs) and lively debates. They supplemented their children's schoolwork with practical examples, taking them on field trips and allowing them to experiment, and encouraged them to explore their surroundings as much as possible, and for good reason.

      Owen was five when, among other things, he discovered his power. His parents surmised that it was because of the constant stimulation.
      One of the plants he was growing had wilted. He recorded his failure in his 'plant journal' he had been given to track his progress. Whilst trying to inspect the plant and the soil to figure out what went wrong, parts of the plant he had smoothed his fingertips over had turned a lively green again. In his shock, he decided not to talk about what had happened. It was when he discovered that Oliver could do something similarly strange that he decided to open up about it with his parents, though instead of the worry and shock he expected to be met with, they were unsurprised and nothing short of amused.
      Both their parents, as it turned out, had strange abilities of their own. Their father was a clairvoyant, and would often use his ability to 'travel' to many places. Sometimes, he would simultaneously observe multiple places at once. Their mother, on the other hand, was practically a walking computer, and she could vividly take in every detail of every place she would encounter. She kept multiple journals to offload the excess strain of information.
      The revelation had opened more doors than he had ever experienced in his short life thus far. However, instead of taking as much time to train it as Oliver was, he didn't believe healing was of much use. To his mind, there wasn't much to heal, and therefore not worth training.

      Johanna's mind started wasting away when he was seven.
      Their routines started to change. Their attention was turned towards their ailing mother, who had started to slow down considerably, who had forgotten dates, names, places, who could not see everything as clearly anymore. Doctors had diagnosed her with early-onset Alzheimers. Parry shook his head.
      It wasn't long before her body began to waste away as well. She forgot to eat and had to be fed. She couldn't recognise her men. She couldn't recognise the efforts her youngest son was making to try and make her better again. Despite Parry's somewhat successful attempts to liven up the atmosphere, none of them could shake the loneliness of the inevitable loss. They took her to the hospital when the deterioration didn't cease and remained with her until they had no choice but to take her off life support.
      Parry continued on teaching after her death, waiting for the term to end despite being unable to remain in Albany any longer out of grief. He sought a post at a university in Portland, Maine whilst waiting. He filed his resignation the month before the term ended, as was protocol, packed up once it was confirmed and moved to Maine. He and Oliver had been concerned about Owen, who seemed the most broken up about it. With the move, he hoped the boys would have a better chance at healing there.

      Owen was eight when he moved near the Wolfeses.
      His father had sensed something different nearby, though couldn't be sure as the signals were erratic. If he was going to investigate, he had to lay low. People normally didn't take too readily to the overtly strange, and he wasn't ready for his sons to experience exclusion because of any mistakes on his part. He picked himself up from the gloom to start his little pet projectโ€”find the user.
      It was during the housewarming that their neighbours threw for them that he was able to pinpoint who exactly it had been coming from. Everyone was starting to leave after the two to three hours or so their new neighbours had spent chatting to them and orienting them about the city. He had caught the Wolfeses in time before they left to have a talk with them. Knowing now that neither of them were users, he confronted them about their daughter Jane. It was met with fear, especially since they were worried about her ability to see and take everything in, and were working to help make having those abilities easier for her. It took proving what he and his family could do and the reassurance that he would try and help their daughter that got them to warm up. Both families became fast friends and confidantes. Their presence helped him and the boys gain a sense of normalcy and closure after Johanna's death, and he and the boys, in turn, helped Jane control her abilities.
      The harmony was cut short with his father's Stage IV cancer diagnosis. Faced with losing a loved one yet again, he became determined to have his abilities grow strongerโ€”and stronger it did become the greater the want to protect. It was here that he learned to take in other's pain. He would do this on nights his father was asleep, when his mind was elsewhere (mostly in chemotherapy and the feeling it brought him) and unable to know what he was doing. He would let as much as he could possibly take in and suffer through the night until the pain subsided. If it kept his father going and helping the family that they came to love as their own, then he would do it. Whilst it didn't keep him from death, it kept him from a painful one. The Wolfeses had a similar role, helping ensure he had a peaceful one by filing the appropriate paperwork to become their legal guardians.

      At fifteen, three years shy of his father's death, he lost his brother. Unlike the opportunity he had to say his goodbyes to his parents, his brother's death had happened far too shockingly.
      There was no doubt that Oliver was suffering from the loss of their parents. He tried to repress his pain and channeled his energies negatively. Owen tried as much as he could to relieve his brother's pain by taking in as much of his mental distress as he could, though he was too emotionally burdened himself to be able to adequately take on even more emotional strain. He watched helplessly as the lively, fun-loving, positive parts of his brother gave way to intense loneliness and self-destruction. It all came to a head when he decided to pick a fight with one of the enemies he had made, though instead of the usual scuffle that would occur when they crossed paths, the young man had something else with him that day.
      Four knife wounds to the chest and abdomen, Owen was told later. The young man responsible had fled the scene. The only thing he could remember was seeing red everywhereโ€”on the pavement, on his hands, on his brother's clothes (new shirt, favourite jeans), in his eye. Owen was too far gone in his shock to heal him properly. Oliver died in his brother's arms before the ambulance could come.

      After losing what family he had left, Owen seemed to lose all ability to speak.

      He had nearly lost Jane after she and her parents were involved in a car accident, though despite her surviving neither of them could stay together for long. The both of them were passed into the foster care system. He was placed in three different families between the ages of 17 and 18. He was on his way to becoming a troubled youth, but the final family he was with before he was free from the system had managed to calm him down and help him transition into life alone. They had respected his wish not to talk, taught him to sign and learned to sign themselves in order to communicate better. They were the first good thing to happen to him in years.
      Upon his release, he found himself completely free. By this time, he was living in Boothbay Harbor. He wished he had his parents' almost boundless sense of adventure and positive outlook on life, as the life he saw ahead of him seemed bleak. Without them, without his brother, without Jane and her parents, he didn't have much to live for.
      After going job hunting one day, he decided to stop in a park to sit down. His thoughts were moving too fast to be comfortable. He needed time to sort out what he was going to have to do now that he was on his own, though the mounting failures made the possibility of anything happening to him bleak. For the first time in years, no longer caring that he was out in the open, he had allowed himself a good cry. What he hadn't expected that day was to feel a familiar presence he couldn't quite pinpoint.
      He knew that the person who had approached was a womanโ€”that much he could tell from the sound of her voice. He composed himself before looking up, perhaps to try to tell her to leave him be, maybe even to lie that he was deaf so she would go away. What he hadn't expected to find was the first most welcome sight he had had in nearly three years. He didn't think he'd embraced someone as hard has he had that day.
      He never thought he'd ever see Jane again.

      He offered her to come live with him in the diminutive apartment he was staying in. Though she didn't take him up on the offer to live with him, she did stay occasionally for days on end. At the time, she was still in the system, so he took it upon himself to clarify things with them was when they started to ask questions. He was initially met with suspicion, but they eventually let him have more active involvement in her life. It was as if the mist that surrounded most of his life was partially lifted.
      It was during one of her long visits that they both started to talk about what was going to happen to them. They recalled their past and, driven by the want not to have others like them encounter the same loneliness they did, decided to form a place where they could take refuge, where they were free to be amongst others like them. After she was taken out of the system, they found an abandoned house that seemed suitable and, with some of the money that had been left behind for Jane, they refurbished the house and put up Safe Haven.

So begins...

Owen Pugh'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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#, as written by ฮ•pฮนmetheus
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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.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Danny Griffin Character Portrait: Jane Wolfe Character Portrait: Reed Lewis Character Portrait: Owen Pugh Character Portrait: Robin Lewis Character Portrait: Elias Averesch
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#, as written by wednesdaysun
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โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”
๏ผฏ๏ผท๏ผฅ๏ผฎย  ๏ผฐ๏ผต๏ผง๏ผจ
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โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”
Whilst Owen wasnโ€™t a man who liked to keep to very strict routines, there was one he did more or less often that he found necessary. Before the crack of dawn, he would get up to exercise, then afterwards patrol the grounds and woods around Safe Haven (serving the double purpose of cooling off and warding off anyone who wandered too close to it). He would start any repair or garden work necessary for the houseโ€™s upkeep as the sun began to rise over the property. Afterwards, he would take a well-deserved shower and make, or help make if someone went and did it ahead of him, breakfast for the occupants.
It had become part of the relatively comfortable living arrangement he and Jane Wolfe, his most trusted ally, his interpreter (of sorts) and the only family he really had left, had made for themselves and for anyone who, like them, no longer had a come to call theirs. Initially a pet project cum survival tactic, seeing the effect it had within the span a little than two years saw it grow out of its 'pet' status. There was nothing petty about the fact that they had somehow been given these abilities beyond their control at birth, and even further beyond their control was the perception 'normal' people had towards people like them. There was nothing petty about being able to help those who possessed them who were entirely lost as to how to deal with these abilities in a world he knew would be inhospitable to their kind if they were to make themselves known. For now, they would have to rely on the temporary obscurity that protected them.
Owen cut short his patrol around the grounds twenty minutes into the wooded area. Unlike others whom she connected with, Owen had so much exposure to Jane's mind link with their frequent communication with each other that somehow the residual parts of her consciousness were embedded in his mind, allowing him to sense her feelings. He ran over potential scenarios as he picked up on vague hints of anxiety and dread, from the most harmlessโ€”the car keys were missing, breakfast was burnt, they ran out of a particular ingredientโ€”to the most harmfulโ€”death. Though didn't put him completely at ease, at least his mind was occupied.
Owen entered through the back of the house near the kitchen, and saw one small group of their occupants gathered along the kitchen counter.

"Where's Jane? Something's up." Owen frowned as he signed to the group, deciding to look for her himself when no immediate response came from any of them. "What's happened? Where's Jane? Where'd she go?" Once one of them had pointed out the direction in which Jane had went, he gave them a thankful yet stern nod, and walked quickly in that direction... until he saw something he had least expected.

Elias. Elias Averesch.

Barring that he didn't speak, he was at a loss of words and turned to Jane in his confusion, not sure of young man in front of him. He hadn't heard what had been said to Jane.

"You're here." He thought mentally, touching Jane's shoulder to help stream these thoughts into her. "Why are you here?"

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