lucas-patterson

[lucas-patterson]

brett-tharp-tos:

I know I haven’t exactly been getting much sleep recently, but… I am more than certain my father is dead. How can I possibly be seeing him in person?

It’s called a ghost son, it ain’t hallucinations. It might be but right now i’m doubtin’ that

Guessin’ from your tone that you don’t normally see them.

[lucas-patterson]

cursetillo:

[pm] It’s just like my old store but all on the Internet. Internet shopping is pretty big right now…I could do okay… 

There’s not really a Black Market online though, or is there?

[pm] Oh that won’t help me then. Can’t imagine these stores want to sell body pieces and blood and whatnot. There is an online black market but fuck if i’ve been able to actually find it yet. Give me face to face any day, you can get a read on people then.

[lucas-patterson]

It was hardly his preferred method of searching for this siren, but Lucas was not about to leave just because some clumsy dock worker moron made him lose his mirror. Especially since the more he thought about it, the more he was absolutely certain that he saw a siren in that mirror. It had only been for a few very short seconds, but he was sure. The look of a siren was not something that he was ever going to forget. Shawn hadn't died just so Lucas could let his eyes play tricks on him. Shawn wouldn't have died at all if there were more people like him in the world. It was times like this that he genuinely felt like the only person who was fighting this fight.

There were enough reflective surfaces around for him to check the majority of the dock workers, and even the staff of fishmongers and the damn bar as they went about whatever it was they were doing. Now that he wasn't holding up a mirror, people barely paid him a mind at all. Six and two threes to Lucas though, all he cared about was finding the siren. Still, as much as he was searching, there was absolutely no sign of the siren. He started to get a little unsure as to which dock workers and such he'd actually checked. Some of them looked the same, or at least seemed to, all dressed in similar clothing as they were. He was certain that he'd followed and caught glimpses of reflections of the same workers over and over again, and yet still no siren.

A thought occurred to him, perhaps the siren was aware of what he was up to. Maybe they'd seen him with the mirror, or during the altercation with the clumsy oaf. Maybe the reason he hadn't seen them again was that they were deliberately avoiding reflections. A smart move, but he knew now. It thought it was smart but it had just made it so much easier, now all he needed to do was find the one avoiding reflective surfaces. It didn't take long before Lucas saw someone moving back and forth, but strangely for a dock worker never actually getting close to the water. The area they seemed to be unusually determined to stick to lacked any other surfaces too. Suspicious. Not proof by any means, but definitely someone he needed to check.

He waited for an opening and strode right across to the man, swiftly pinning one of his arms behind him and shoving him over to the water's edge. The man barely had time to protest or even resist before Lucas was holding him over, squinting down into the water. Bah, just another human. The protests grew louder. Bloody idiot, acting so suspicious like that, what the hell did he expect to happen. He let his grip loosen but was surprised to see him being pulled away by someone else, another dock worker. She was short and slender but heaved the man away from the edge of the water with ease, before she squared up to Lucas.

“Then he shouldn'ta been actin' so suspicious.” Lucas spat back, angry at the fact he'd yet to find the siren more than anything else. “There's a monster hiding in these docks, so i'm fucking sorry if I don't stop to question every Joe's medical history before checkin'! Call the cops, I don't fucking care, I ain't murdered anybody but someone down here has.”

Siren’s Call || Lucas and Taylor

[lucas-patterson]

Oh I know that feelin’. Someone’s gotta clean up this town. What’s so important for you that it’s keepin’ you here regardless?

[lucas-patterson]

[pm] No, that makes sense. What’s an Etsy store?

[pm] I just don’t have the money to rebuild. Not to mention how dangerous it would be…I don’t really care to have two shops burn down this year.

Maybe I’ll open an Etsy store.

[lucas-patterson]

Lucas hoped that this guy wasn't going to be this fucking petulant about everything. “Stand then, I don't give a fuck.” Lucas mumbled from behind his cigarette. “Christ, just 'cause I ain't the kind for small talk doesn't mean i'm about to fucking murder you.” He took a final draw from the cigarette before stubbing it out and flicking the butt out the door before shutting it again. He then pulled his flask from one of his jacket's many pockets and took a swig before throwing it in Alex's general direction. Whiskey, laced with a little holy water for emergencies.

He then looked around at the stuffed heads of the various beasts around him. Alex may be a witch hunter, but the guy was young and clearly the headstrong type. All he needed was for Alex to leave off Nat, the best way for that felt like getting him to go after something else. Not a human, but a beast. At least, this was what his gut was telling him, and damn he needed to trust his gut more often. Especially after the Lacertasite demon nonsense. There was probably a few stains of that creature on the floor of the cabin too, but Lucas didn't care. It wasn't dangerous, and his cabin wasn't exactly used for entertaining people.

“You know what these creatures are?” He inclined his head slightly in the direction of his trophies. The snarling snout of the werewolf, the massive teethed mouth of the siren, the lion-like face of the manticore. All incredibly dangerous creatures, and not human besides, far more sensible targets than innocent humans just doing a little spell now and again. Trophies was probably the wrong word, Lucas took no pleasure in killing these things, but they looked almost exactly like the mounted heads of bears and moose that most regular hunters would have proudly displayed in their houses. No, these were here to remind Lucas, on a daily basis, what he was up against. No matter how human they looked or acted in their other forms, these were the true creatures beneath. Vicious, dangerous, and a threat to the world.

Axe Murderers || Alex & Lucas

[lucas-patterson]

Lucas ignored the glowering and snide comments. People were always like that, trying to sneak insults into their sentences and hoping others wouldn't notice. It wouldn't be the first time someone would think it went over his head, when in actuality he just didn't give two shits one way or another about what people thought of him. He wasn't here to impress people, he was here to do a job. Lucas also wasn't the type of person to lace his words, preferring that people know exactly what he was thinking so there would be no debate on the matter. “Course I fucking know he's in Ashkent, I live there!” he said with exasperation. He'd thought it would have been obvious without explanation. “He ain't the easiest to find there. Guy's hiding low, smartly, so rather than sit on my ass in Ashkent better to scope out his other places too.”

So, she was here for leverage. Dirt. Call shit gold if she wanted, it's still shit. Digging around in trash now suddenly didn't sound like it would be something this woman would shy away from anymore. Definitely not police then, so probably some hired investigator of sorts. They weren't bad people to have around, especially if she was good at what she did. Well, she was here too, so that was definitely something, and she seemed to know her way around lockpicks. Amiable might not be in his dictionary, but that didn't mean business with others was off the table, Nat was a perfect example of that. He followed her inside the dingy apartment, letting her lead the way with her flashlight. Wasn't a few moments ago that he was considering just booting down the door in the less subtle way.

His eye darted all around the hallways as they moved forwards, scouting every inch of the room for anything dangerous. Force of habit, get caught off-guard too many times and it makes you cautious. The place seemed largely deserted though, definitely some emergency hideout at best. The dust on the floor that soon ended up being scuffed about was proof enough that it hadn't been used recently. Lucas's deductions were halted however when this woman mentioned her reason for being here. “An acquaintance has a beef with him” she uttered casually as she photographed letters. Ordinarily he'd have been surprised at the fact that she was so forthcoming about her employer, to an extent, but the coincidence was too uncanny. He hadn't got this far by passing everything off as coincidence.

“Pheh,” he sniffed, the closest he'd ever get to a laugh in these circumstances, “funny you should say that. Same reason i'm here. Fucker tried to murder a friend of mine. I ain't the murdering or maiming sort, but the guy should at least be taught a lesson. Some intimidation, maybe a word or two about how he's a moron and targeting the wrong things. Cocky upstarts like him are always like this.” Had Nat hired someone else, this woman? It made sense, if she wanted to attack this guy from multiple angles. He'd at least wished she'd told him first, could have made things a damn sight easier. Working with people wasn't his preferred method, but it was necessary and could be useful, he had to admit. And damn, this woman already seemed way more reliable than Perry or someone like that. “Reckon we're working for the same person.”

Mutual Investigation || Lucas and Marley

[lucas-patterson]

Lucas had been just over half-way down the docks before he was approached by someone. Someone actually approached him, that was unusual. His initial thought was some union head or at least someone in charge who had been told what he was up to. That was good, someone in charge might be able to give some decent information regardless. As he approached though, Lucas could tell he was just some simple dockworker, with not a thing about his exuding authority. Lucas only got a brief chance to check the mirror from where he was standing before the guy reached him. He could tell that the one approaching him was not a siren, his reflection showed fine, but he was sure he saw something in the background. His eyesight might not be what it once was, but one thing he was good at was picking out things that didn't fit. He couldn't say for sure if it was a siren, but with all the leads and effort he'd put in so far, it had to be.

Unfortunately he didn't get the chance to properly check beyond that. The moron that approached began to blather about how the eyepatch made him look bad-ass, an effect he was neither going for nor wanted people to think. The last thing he wanted was people romanticising crippling injuries or disabilities, especially those caused by hunting supernatural creatures. “It's not...” he began before the man tripped over his own two feet and crashed into him. Lucas was built strongly enough to not fall, though his recently healed leg twinged uncomfortably beneath him. That wasn't what he focussed on though, as his hand snapped back and the mirror vanished into the salty waters of the dockyard.

After steadying himself and realising what had transpired, Lucas grabbed the front of the man's clothes with one hand in anger. He wasn't supernaturally strong, so he couldn't exactly lift the man bodily with one hand, though he wanted to right about now. “The fuck is your problem you fucking moron.” Lucas spat at him with rage, his face barely inches away from the man's. He shoved the man away before walking to the edge of the water and staring down. It was no use though, all he could see was water and boat reflections.

Reflections. It wasn't ideal but he supposed he could use this. Maybe even the glass in the windows of the surrounding buildings too. They weren't mirrors, but even a lousy and grimy reflection might be enough to identify the person. He'd definitely seen it in that mirror, the siren was here. Thanks to that moron's antics, the siren may even have noticed him. He hoped they didn't notice the mirror, or were stupid enough to not know what it meant. He shot a look of seething hatred at the fool who had fallen into him, holding back from doing anything else to him, and began his down the docks once again. Closer to the water than he was before, and eyes darting between those he passed, the glass windows, and the water. He knew it was here, he just needed a visual. Something. Anything.

Siren’s Call || Lucas and Taylor

[lucas-patterson]

Lucas wasn’t exactly one who believed in luck, but even he had to admit that what had transpired in the past few hours was lucky. Here was a man that he'd been trying to track down for a week or so now, who was proving to be unsurprisingly elusive, and he just offered himself up on a silver platter. Without even so much as a “why are you asking?” from Alex, Lucas had found himself waiting in his cabin in the woods, fully expecting the person who'd agreed to borrow and axe from him to show up. Natalia had mentioned he paraded around online quite brazenly, so Lucas suspected this had to be the guy.

He'd even prepared his cabin ahead of time. This guy was human, supposedly, so he had no intention of killing him. Harming if things perhaps came to that, but more than anything he needed to educate this young fool. He'd brought the taxidermied heads of several supernatural creatures up from the basement and had them in plain sight in his front room. Maybe if this moron could see what was really dangerous, he'd turn the witch-hunting skills to something more useful, less archaic. It probably wouldn't work overnight. If nothing else he could make certain that Natalia would be left alone. A shotgun in the face, even unloaded, could scare a man into a lot of things.

The knock eventually came. Lucas slung the shotgun over his arm, looking every bit like a game hunter, and opened the door a crack. A small mirror system on the inside told him that this person wasn't a vampire or a siren, and the iron frame around the door combined with the salt lines told him that he wasn't fae or undead either. Good start. He swung the door open wider and got his first look at Alex in person. He was older than he'd expected, though not by much. He grunted a greeting and stood aside to let him inside. With his free hand he picked a cigarette packet off a shelf nearby a taxidermied siren head, gazing with lifeless eyes and foul teeth into the centre of the room, and lit himself one. He didn't offer it to Alex, instead taking a long draw before indicating the lone chair in the room. “Sit.”

Axe Murderers || Alex & Lucas

If asked why exactly he was hiking into the middle of the woods for an axe after everything that had happened, Alex probably wouldn’t have been able to answer. All he knew was that the witch was gone for now and he needed a task to keep his mind from itching with boredom. Chopping up post-murdering roots seemed as good of a task as any. 

It wasn’t hard, finding the small route the man had told him about, but despite the walkway, Alex wasn’t a big fan of walking through the woods to an unknown location. Actually, for someone who identified as a hunter of sorts, he carried a lot of dislike towards the woods. But it was understandable, he supposed, seeing as he couldn’t count the times he’d almost been killed in the woods on both hands. But whatever. He needed an axe.

With wary steps, he followed the trail until eventually stumbling onto the cabin. He couldn’t say that someone living in a cabin in the woods came across as the most inconspicuous and trustworthy person but he’d met stranger people and actually gotten along with them. Still, he couldn’t help but keep on guard as he knocked on the door, grateful for his habit of arming himself properly before going… well, anywhere, really. He just hoped this guy wasn’t expecting small talk over coffee. 

[lucas-patterson]

[pm] Axe, rifle, silver daggers, shotgun, holy water. Whatever is needed and gets the job done.

Not smart enough to stay alive. Well, yeah, but saying so just makes me the town’s biggest smart-ass too. Not that I mind that title too much. 

[pm] Action? Like, fisticuffs? With axes? Axicuffs?

[lucas-patterson]

Then you’re smarter than the majority of this moronic town.

[pm] No point being all talk and no action.

Well, I mean, technically they’re people the majority of the time. They’re just wolf-people. Wereple. Not a hugger in general, but especially not if it has claws. 

[pm] So, this whole anti-supernatural thing. Are you conscientious objector, or more the proactive type?��

[lucas-patterson]

You’re here to link everything together?

Oh, certainly not. Everything here is linked to something. That’s why I’m here.

[lucas-patterson]

Siren’s Call || Lucas and Taylor

Lucas held up the mirror and used it to observe the length of the docks. No good, from this distance he couldn't see well enough to determine if any other the reflections were sirens or not. His eyesight just wasn't what it used to be. It used to be twice as good before a siren got hold of him. He pocketed the small mirror and started to trek down the dockyards. He hardly noticed the mixed smells of salt and sweat, nor did he care. Since he had heard the unmistakable shriek of a siren several days ago, nothing else had been on his mind. The vampire, the leshy, the werewolf, even the witch-hunter had all needed to take a back seat for this. Sirens took something from him, and not just his eye. They were incredibly dangerous and he absolutely needed to find out where it was.

So far, the only mumblings he heard referred to the docks, so that was as good a place to start as any. It made sense too, since sirens were primarily from old sailor's tales. When he'd arrived and saw The Siren's Serenade, some dockyard bar or something, he'd inwardly sworn multiple times and hoped that this wasn't what people had talked about. On top of that, people actually romanticised the idea of sirens? What the fuck was wrong with people!

He held the mirror up to every dock worker he passed. He couldn't care less what they thought, and one or two looked as though they had an objection they wanted to throw him was, but a look from Lucas and sight of the shotgun at his hip were enough to keep their mouths shut. Sirens were meant to be killed by a bronze dagger coated in the blood of a sailor under its spell, but a shotgun to their razor-toothed face worked just as effectively. So far though, no razor-toothed faces in sight.

He just couldn't forget it. The creatures that he'd removed over the years were all just that, creatures. No faces or names, or at least very ones that were swiftly forgotten about. They weren't human, it didn't matter. Yet the one that always remained in his face was that of the one that had ripped Shawn apart. At this point he could barely even remember Shawn's face, but that siren's he would never forget. Sirens, damn them all. He stopped at about half-way down the dock, suddenly aware of the sounds of music coming from The Siren's Seranade. Fucking idiots, the lot of them. If only they knew the amount of danger and eternal pain that those things could cause, they would be naming a god damned bar after them.

He sighed loudly to himself and continued his task, stopping by every dock worker that he could see  and holding the mirror up. It was arduous, it was long, and there were probably better ways to go about this. But right now this was the best that he had.

[lucas-patterson]

Good. The less people that believe in the “hug a werewolf they’re people too” bullshit the better.

Well, not to worry, dude. No brainwashed sparklecrazy youths, here. Humanity’s the number one thing I look for in a guy. Or would, if I was interested in that sort of thing. Which I’m not, but that’s besides the point, but, uh, you’re preaching to the choir. 

[lucas-patterson]

I was referrin’ to the recent problem. I hope you don’t think stuff like this is an isolated incident. Good, at least you’re prepared for the more common supernatural beasts.

No, I just haven’t felt that trees are dangerous before. A vampire, sure. I’d definitely get out the wooden stake and the holy water. But trees haven’t really been a threat before.

[lucas-patterson]

You some goddam hippie? 

I personally don’t tend to take any sort o weapons towards trees…

[lucas-patterson]

That woman has done so much damage with those fucking books of hers than she realises. A generation of people romanticising something incredibly dangerous.

Sure, that’s a convenient excuse you could say that. 

Well, sh--Not a Meyer fan, I take it? Or just mighty pissed they split the last book into two movies? Not that I can blame you, that kind of blatant cash-grab is enough to grind anyone’s gears.