| Tears on the mausoleum floor;; closed rp. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 30 2013, 04:23 PM (83 Views) | |
| Wyatt | Jun 30 2013, 04:23 PM Post #1 |
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Newborn
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Blood stains the coliseum doors Lies on the lips of a priest Thanksgiving disguised as a feast -- He's always known of Blackwater. After-all that little backyard town had taken his innocence in more ways than one. It'd been there he'd learned that some monsters were real, and that some of them weren't monsters at all. It'd been there that his first love, shallow and light-hearted, had nestled between his ribs and knuckle bone and back again. He'd begged her in those cold spring nights to run away to nowhere with him. There'd been blood on his shirt and blood weighing down his heart.; trembling with a forgotten-for-the moment tragedy. But he'd been hopeful. It was there the ginger werewolf had sent him off with a quiet no, and the next day he hadn't even said goodbye when he'd packed up and left. He'd lit a match and burned down his grandmother's house like he promised, and disappeared like he'd burned in the fire with her. And maybe, on second thought, he had. This man was not the Wyatt that ginger lover had known. And some part of him hoped dearly she wouldn't. Some selfless part of him that still loved her every-bit as much as before hoped she'd have moved on. That could be the only reason he'd kept tabs on this horrible, stray infested, shack of a town. To watch her right? And Blackwater had been a mighty watch. Though events had significantly calmed since the last seize of power; most of the southern states surrendering to the dove and raven feathered valkyries. There was always a stigma of chaos bleeding through. Any dark-aligned supernatural worth a spark of their chaos would notice that big things tended to happen in that little town. And like the parasites they were, they'd flock. He's no exception, his relationship with the esteemed third sister, a perfect excuse to stick his nose further into the political field of demon pissing matches. Blackwater, Tennessee was as close to the Styx river as mortal eyes would lay on. And it was seeping with lost souls for the taking. Wanting power, wanting control. Shadowed by the deep chasm of a niche that the Alpha and her beta had dug for themselves. The deep instinctual feeling of not belonging, but always wanting too. You needed power to be noticed here. He could be their fairy god father, dolce and gabbana footed with a blazer on. "All of this looks good, what would you suggest?" He says to the waiter and smiles at her. Bright and sharp. He reaches forward momentarily to establish a connection between the both of them, a small brush over her palm, encircling her wrist. She blushes and reaches to point at a breakfast special on the menu. Proclaiming it's one of her favorites, and he orders it with no intentions on really eating it. Winking and leaning back in his seat when she saunters off towards the kitchen. Waiting for a opportunity to present itself. |
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| Lynn | Jun 30 2013, 11:58 PM Post #2 |
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Newborn
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It’s not every day that the girls all get to go out anywhere. There’s normally some kind of something going on—someone needs to be stitched up, someone needs to stop complaining, someone needs to get punched by Billy—same stuff, different day. But it appears that maybe today will really be a different day. It happens to be one of the semi-rare occasions that they all decide to go the restaurant in town, and while Lynn isn’t exactly excited at the idea of being surrounded by more people, she is thrilled to have a reason to wear something other than her scrubs for once. She finally leaves the house after deciding on jeans and a nice floral top (after much debate, because you know at her height it’s impossible to NOT look like a teenager) and drives to the place early, only for the purpose of snagging Billy, Sabra, and Vianne their table. Because if there is anything that Lynn has learned from her time spent in the Cabin, it was that they didn’t like to be kept waiting—even if it was for five seconds to get menu’s. Lynn would spare the waitress their impatience. She fiddles around on her phone for a while, but someone else quickly captures her attention. While the Blackwater territory is massive, the town is not—this was one of those everybody knows everybody towns where a new face was immediately recognized. For the pack, a new face usually meant trouble, and Lynn can already feel something in her chest stir with unease for the sole reason that this face isn’t entirely new. The man is tall and well-built, something intimidating in size with an odd smile that Lynn isn’t sure that she likes. But still, there is something disturbingly familiar about him that Lynn can’t quite shake, someone that she had not seen for quite some time. And when she had, it must have been in passing. How anyone could have slipped under her radar like that is astounding, but he won’t anymore. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but she is quite certain that curiosity will not kill the Doctor. Not at least while she’s stuck here. The small werewolf slips out of her booth and makes the transition from hers to his rather quickly, stopping opposite from him with a hand and a hip against the chair. “I’ve seen you around here before,” she says quietly with narrowed eyes. Her head tilts in thought. “Once or twice? I can’t remember—you’re familiar.” It’s only after her last few words that she realizes that she was being rude and Goddamnit Billy and Sabra. The girls had poisoned her manners too, apparently. She apologizes by way of a small smile and looks down for a moment. “I’m sorry—My name is Lynn. You are…?” Because he is familiar, familiar, familiar, and it bugs her. Maybe Billy would know something about him. Lynn reminds herself to ask later. |
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| Wyatt | Jul 1 2013, 12:18 AM Post #3 |
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Newborn
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He doesn't expect to be noted, at-least not so soon in the day. Blackwater may be notorious for their vicious retaliation, but they were prestigious for their slow intake. Things went unnoticed here until they boiled over. It was how Blue Ridge had seized the advantage. He could remember that night clear as day. The moon had fittingly been big and round, and the creatures that haunted the forest had been drunk and wild with it's influence. It was said to be a hilarious dupe of a myth that were's were controlled by the moon, preposterous to modern science and lore. But the lines of ''reality'' and ''speculation'' were so blurred now he needed glasses. He would not have survived this long assuming the text-book definition of things were the only beings in existence. In the end he hadn't seen it coming as much as the wolves had. He recognizes the doctor where there are gaps in her memory. Ever since that night he has committed to never forgetting a face. He didnt know her rank inside of the hierarchy, didnt know how important he was and if she had maybe his reaction may have been a little more brittle boned. But instead there is a intrigued grin that spreads his face. Cocky and amused. Leaning back against the back of the booth; he fingers the tattered upholstery at his fingertips. "I've visited." He says, flits his eyes up and down. "Clientele." It's a blatant lie, a self preservation kick. As genuine as his personality. But it'd go unnoticed. The type of fibbing grace that came with years of avoiding the truth. Blackwater cant know his involvement, not now, not yet. "Kingsley." He offers in kind, it's a derivation of his name. A business alliance he's gone by a million times before. Used enough that it's fitting and glides off his tongue like honey. With a dark smoldering gaze assessing her; scrutinizing her placement in this shabby good-for-nothing hell of a town with memories as worse as the one's making them. "Pleasure to meet you, Lynn. Would you like to join me?" A pause and lift of his brow. "Unless you're waiting for someone?" Billy, Sabra, Vianne. Either or all of them were bad news. At-least right now. He wanted to do his business and he wanted to leave. Their involvement would not allow that. |
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2:49 AM Jul 11