juliangladiator

[juliangladiator]

His nose crinkled in his own obvious, physical retort to her question, "I wouldn't ever go as far as to say that, but there are some quirks about you that are set in stone." Julian smiled warmly as he stated this, as though it was not a flaw but something to be appreciated; he'd never truly know which way Juneau lent when it came to certain things, but he rather liked that air of spontaneity about her. At her core, there were some things Juneau was more inclined to above others, however, and he'd slowly come to recognize these things.

As further expected, Juneau settled on some half-promise to his offer, something which allowed the sweet smile to remain on his expression as he slowly nodded in finality. A half-commitment to the claim was far better than a no with Juneau and in some innocent sense, Julian felt victorious where the subject was concerned.

Juneau seemed to finally become self aware to the briny miasma that was her, surely weeks old, clothing. Julian hadn't truly minded, though a werewolves nose was far more sensitive than any average human, his own adoration seemed to eclipse any funky scent. Still, as though half-reading her mind, he nodded towards the far end of the small cabin, "There's a bath, I can warm water, grab towels." Simple, gentle; Julian was truly unsure if she'd rather trek all the way to the Inn and back before accepting such request, but Juneau seemed less combative, aloft even, and he wondered if she'd oblige to the idea simply to remain in proximity to him. Another thought popped up just as quickly - that he was clearly reaching when it came to any wanton Juneau could have about wanting to remain close to him, but Julian just as swiftly pushed the thought away.

"I..-I can wait here or go elsewhere," he'd half the mind to propose washing her clothes for her, but Julian was certain they were practically unsalvageable; weeks to months of the sea integrated into the fabrics. He lingered far too long, but gratefully, within her space, the smell this dulled scent in the foreground as all his focus seemed to fall upon her withering gaze. Julian's smile remained until his jaw would likely ache as the feeling Juneau admitted to seemed to permeate every nerve and neuron of Julian. Such feeling being reciprocated went without saying, but he would be remiss if he didn't say it aloud, "I missed you."

“Have I started to become that predictable to you?” Juneau asked, but she merely pretended it bothered her. The noise of Haven was far more preferable than the noise of Eterna and most stretches of Hestia’s Cove. It wasn’t the fear that put her off of the Wildlands, but the concern that unspoken and unyielding pressure to join the pack would linger. However, only time would tell if that was true or not. 

The broodiness in her expression faded as he spoke again and it became apparent that Julian had not understood her earlier sardonic words as agreement. Softness and agreeability had never been Juneau’s strong suit, it didn’t come naturally to her the way it seemed to be an innate part of Julian’s approach to others. “We can try it a few times,” Juneau finally settled on–a commitment but not a false promise, an in-between that felt neither like she over promised nor under delivered in terms of giving it an honest attempt. 

When Julian mentioned the smell of brine still permeating Juneau’s overall presence, she looked down at herself. The clothing she wore was dirty and bordered on stiff due to its lack of quality and filth, not to mention how long she’d been wearing it due to a lack of resources. Sand and grime had found its way into nearly every pore of her being. She realized how uncomfortable it was, once he called attention to it, to say the least. “I feel disgusting,” she admitted quietly, looking down at herself, and her neck craned for a moment to try and determine if she could spot a basin or tub for bathing in one of the further back areas of the cabin. 

All thoughts of soap and warm water were quickly abandoned as Julian easily bent to Juneau’s unspoken will. He had always felt so warm to her, but it was different now. His skin against hers had once had a borderline searing quality to the heat of his touch that bordered on painful. Now, it was a warm and comforting weight, a pressure against her frame that stopped her from becoming further unmoored than she already was. She ventured past the bounds of her comfort level and maintained the connection with him, the gesture of affection allowed to linger where normally she would withdraw within a mere fraction of a moment. When she did straighten herself back out, she looked up to him and despite herself mumbled, “I missed you.” But the bond would have reminded him as much for days and days before they were brought back together.

[juliangladiator]

starter for @lunadarkwoodx.

where: wherever dearest luna is

when: current timeline

note: via #plot-calls

Progress Day, Lupercalia; Julian was happy to run into Luna without the chaos of such events, nodding in greeting at the other wolf. There were always whispers of her tether to the Legion, but it wasn't a process nor organization Julian wholly understood. From other whispers around Haven, with some emissaries and wolves who'd come to be apart of it, Julian had heard it was a cause that they were meant to respect even above the wolf pack. That alone left the golden retriever boy confuzzled, but even still he tried to learn. "Luna, you still haven't joined the Feronia pack yet?" A teasing question but indeed he was curious, she had seemed to really enjoy Haven during Lupercalia and she seemed the very wolf that would be perfect to live alongside the pack.

[juliangladiator]

starter for @freydis-freydat.

where: haven

when: current timeline, when she's back from minetia

note: it aint much but its honest work (sorry its so bad HAHA)

As relieved and excited as Julian was to see many of his friends return, Julian was also patient as though not to overwhelm. In some nuance, he could understand what they'd each suffered through, but he was reserved enough not to overstep when it came to relating to this horror. Freydis' return had been celebrated not only by Julian but by dozens within Haven that followed her leadership role within Aventia and otherwise; she'd proven a worthy ally to the Feronia pack again and again, and many cheered loudly at her return in tandem to the celebrations already happening for Aurea's victory.

There was a mild bout of surprise to learn she was to leave shortly after, indeed rather quickly, for some sabbatical from duty here. Julian could feel proud she'd made such leap even though he'd never actually expected such from Freydis when it came to her oversaturated tether to duty in general. As celebrations for Aurea inevitably died down as days spanned to weeks, it was only Julian this time that outwardly appreciated Freydis' return.

Much like a loyal dog who was awaited the return of their beloved friend, Julian intended to see Freydis at once. With werewolves and dire wolves that littered Haven, it was often impossible to hide one's arrival back, and as Freydis carried her things through the winding paths towards the outer areas of Haven where her cabin resided, Julian fell into step with the shieldmaiden. "Where was it you headed off to again? You left in such a hurry, you never even had the chance to tell me!" He teased the other in good spirits and hoped the trip brought clarity and peace of mind to her.

[juliangladiator]

Leo Woodall photographed by Bartek Szmigulski for Wonderland Winter 2022

[juliangladiator]

"I had a feeling you would say that," there's amusement which hinged on Julian's tone, shaking his head at how her tone went from borderline mirthful to flat and distant. Once such a drastic change in cadence might have kept him up thinking anxiously about what could have possibly went wrong when speaking to Juneau, but now Julian could only see it as commonplace, an inevitable ebb and flow that was a simple fact of life where Juneau was concerned. There was also the prominent factor that he never expected Juneau to hear of Freydis in any circumstance or situation and decide that she liked the other; even if Freydis was somehow a reflection of Juneau he knew the vuldak would have something negative to say about her. But this did not bother Julian, it only amused him now as he brushed off any dip of her tone with ease.

"Each noise is not the same as the other," Julian could understand what she meant about the continent being noisy, but there were vast differences when describing such noises. The bustle of Eterna had taken many years for Julian to get used to, especially when the first two to three had been spent stuffed in a cramped cage while he heard the distant joy and merriment of others. His werewolf senses had tortured him, ears intent to pick up each bit of raucous laughter and revelry, especially after a gladiator match. Hundreds milled the streets of Eterna, while he could only listen as they passed by up above his head. Julian much preferred the noise of his home; the chittering of bugs, the faint rustle of leaves in the wind, it was clear that Haven replicated this to some degree even though many nights were filled with the wolfish laughter and howling of fellow packmates.

"Then this cabin can be your in between," the statement is still hesitant enough to sound as though he's added a question mark to the end, but there's a sad speckling of hope in his eyes as he poses this to her. Julian may have once blushed at the direct callout there, but he drove the point further, shrugging with a faint smile on his freckled complexion, "I might be, though you still smell like the sea." Julian elbowed her carefully then, the stark brine melding with the smell of the forest she had surrounded herself with was not entirely off putting but it was indeed strong.

Though Juneau wore a victorious sense over her pale complexion, she still conceded towards his request, Julian feeling the faint brush of her fingers over the sides of his face as she came to cup it in her hands once more. His arms snaked around her as Juneau pulled him down to her lips, squeezing her as though tangibly placing her here; it was still hard to believe after the long stretch of weeks that she was stood before him at all. Even in his arms, sundrenched and warm from how his quotidian free time was spent, it was the first time that he touched her and felt a similar rebound of warmth in turn. No longer did she feel a bit chilled to the touch, and even with only his arms around her, Julian could feel the beating of her heart in a way he'd never been able to pick up on before.

“On any normal Tuesday even? How lewd,” Juneau commented. But her slight sense of playfulness flattened when he mentioned the ludi. She often became embittered with a very particular sense of righteousness when the topic was brought up. There were many things she disliked about Eterna, and it surprised her that she could find herself feeling just as disgusted with cultural norms in Eterna as she did the politics in Iskaldrik. “She sounds boring,” Juneau stated flatly. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying anything uncouth out of envy as it seemed Julian liked the woman. 

Juneau shrugged her shoulders. “This entire continent is noisy,” she countered, her judgement genuine. There were still untamed wilds, but it was different than how it had been in Iskaldrik. She was unsure if what she experienced could be coined as homesickness, but there was an unexpected sense of nostalgia that ached in her breast. Realistically, she knew things had not been better then than they were now, but things were not tremendously improved as many of the refugees she had herded to the border were so certain they would be. Her gaze turned back to Julian and she considered what he had said. “It doesn’t have to be, but I prefer it. These things,” she said as she made a sweeping gesture at the apartment and all within it, “are not the things that bring me comfort, it’s the ability to be able to run at a moment’s notice without worrying about any of this that I find comforting.” She had never enjoyed lingering in one place for too long, she had been conditioned to believe it was unsafe. 

“For a second I thought you might have been inviting me into your bed as well, so it’s good you cleared that up early,” Juneau responded, scrunching her nose slightly and nodding. “That sounds like a lot of knitting.” She stared up at his grin and judged it as genuine. They were more often now than they had been before, and she suspected his attachment to the pack had something to do with it. She was glad for him, even if it wasn’t a path she would have chosen for herself. 

“So you agree. I’ve convinced you,” she stated, her tone indicating her declaration was one of victory. He countered shortly after, one additional test–and if he had not Juneau might have spiraled into a deep despair over whether the soul she possessed really was hers, or if someone else had been forced to forfeit theirs for her benefit. It was better not to think of such things. So she didn’t. Instead, her hands lifted again to cup his face, though this time she did not squish and distort his face. She pulled him down to make up for their differences in stature and afforded him a lingering, tender kiss–less urgent than the one on the island but one equally appreciative of being in his company once more.

[juliangladiator]

"I thought you said the necklace was clearly worthless," snapped back but in a pitiful way, Julian studied the other for a moments pause. Clearly this was something which affected Rhys to some degree and Julian was uncomfortable as to why that could be; his siblings and he were thick as thieves, and in his own biased head, his childhood was idyllic and void of trouble. Each child worked alongside their parents, each learned the craft of making the luxurious oils and wines that Hestia's Cove was known for; Julian could never believe it possible for his mother to have had another out there and not have her heart bleed for them each day.

"No, no, she never spoke of another, I don't think she had someone to look for as you say." His chest felt tight and Julian's jaw clenched as his face burned red from this mix of shame and utter confusion, "It's been about six years since they died, the why doesn't matter." And of course it did matter, it haunted him, had allotted plenty of grief which tortured him each night and had kept him from reaching for anything that was meant to be good for him up until recently, but Julian had already said to much to Rhys and felt suddenly scared to tell the other more.

Rhys wasn't inherently cruel, hadn't always been. He'd accidentally killed someone once, watched their broken body fall down the stairs – and he'd never admitted to it. Went on to live his life, until death had caught up with him. The idea of a family – some sort of warm feeling behind Lady Minetia – had vaguely passed through his mind. His items from the shit orphanage in Eterna, the few things he'd been left with, and no childhood memories that he could remember. But the necklace had been shoved in a box, deemed unimportant by the Lady of the Isle. Still, he looked at the different expressions that flashed across Julian's face. It would've tugged at something once – but his dead heart was more curious about what Julian would say.

"What happened to them?" Rhys softened his features – realizing he'd pushed a little too hard. "He was desperate to know his family before he died. Did they never look for him? Did she never speak of another?"

[juliangladiator]

"It is often very loud here, throughout the night on any normal Tuesday even - reminds me of the ludi," there's a faintly reminiscent smile, for all the pain the first ludi afforded him, Dior's had simply been chaos in the best definition of it. Julian nodded as Juneau volleyed a follow up, "The very one; she might have been here herself, but the moment she's gotten home I think it was clear she preferred to hole herself up in her own cabin with enough flour to bake for an entire army." There was a fondness as Julian noted this, it did not warrant that Freydis was okay after the ordeal of the Kossith ship, but it lent itself that she was better off than one could figure after such incident.

Julian's nose scrunched again, shaking his head; he'd not ever decide where she wished to end up, but even Julian could note that was a farce for Juneau. "Haven't we already covered your hatred of noise? Especially the type of noise that lends itself to a crowd? You're pulling my leg, blondie." As Juneau further clarified and supported this fact, Julian quieted. She seemed to have this need to make it a rather grand show that she was perfectly fine with being permanently displaced, that for Juneau it was simply the way life was and would always be. Julian, of course, would not accept that; he'd lived in a cage for half of his five year sentence, but had understood the weight of a home and how it shaped a person. The absence of it, well - he simply wished for Juneau to have some place out there she could turn to when needed. "But it doesn't have to be that way," suggested lightly, with great care, his eyes looked over Juneau the moment he felt her instinctually pull away from any vulnerability here.

"Any nights you would come to spend at the Inn or here or there," he didn't wish to mock her words but wished to support his own point and request, "-can definitely be spent here if you don't mind all the cons you've once made very clear." Julian understood that Haven was not her favorite place to be throughout all of Taravell, but hoped indeed that he would come to find her curled at his side in the near future. "If I have to get you your own bed, fitted with your knitted covers of course, then I'd do it for you," he grinned, unable to help himself as he seemed to find comfort in teasing her mercilessly tonight.

Juneau's palms covered his eyes, a quick movement that soon transitioned to her fingers gliding through his hair. His hair was lighter since the warmer months were upon them, indicative of golden wheat, warm and inviting. Even as she glowered and attempted her best sourpuss, murdery eyes equipped, Julian was all smiles to simply have her here in his presence. "It'd be a rather good mimic, too good," Julian pretended to look in deep thought, but if the wolf ever truly attempted that he'd likely have smoke erupting from his ears. "If I were to kiss you I'm sure that would help me decide this," as if he hadn't kissed her enough on the island, but Julian was rather certain there'd never be a limit he could surpass that would warrant he'd had enough of that.

“It sounds like often the party is everywhere,” Juneau commented dryly. It was a call back to Lupercalia and the raucous event that was, and further acknowledged the din both of them could hear despite the distance from the festivities. She nearly lifted a hand to cup Julian’s cherubic cheek and utter something along the lines of their loss, but the subject shifted before she could. Her face looked as if she had sucked a sour lemon, the venom of envy distorting her features as he likely knew that it would. Why shouldn’t she give this other woman her signature, withering stare? “You mean the woman who was a jarl in Iskaldrik?” she asked, a brow raising as he continued to describe her. “I know of her. But, no. I don’t know her. She sounds more like the type of person I make a point to avoid knowing.” The company this boy kept! 

Something that smacked of discomfort flickered through the bond, but Juneau couldn’t put her finger on it. Another emotion made its presence known as well, but that proved even more difficult for Juneau to put a name to than the first. It was not often she found herself struggling to sort through what Julian might be feeling or at least struggling to make an educated guess regarding what he might be thinking. It was like sadness or rather loneliness, but it was velvety and soft. Juneau didn’t understand how those two things could be felt together. 

Julian clued her in mere moments later, opening a crack in the door of how he might be feeling or what it was that seemed to bother him. However endearing she found his expression as he waited for her response, little changed on her exterior aside from the crossing of her arms and cocking of her hip, but something about it read different than the usual way in which she shut herself off from others physically. “I heard there’s an empty apartment near the practice arena in Eterna, I figured I would just go there,” Juneau answered falsely. But where would she go? Where did she always go? “Does it matter where I would go next? I don’t stay anywhere for long. I’d go here. And then there. And then some other place.” She eyed him, her expression sly and anxious all at once. “The nights I would have spent at the inn could be spent here.” She was requesting permission, validation. 

“I’ll get right on that,” she said breezily, looking at the pillows on the bed. It looked comfortable, a fact she tried to ignore. 

Juneau’s face twisted into a cringe as she took in his besotted little expression and she groaned out the word, “Gross,” before she lifted her hands to cover his eyes. A moment later, her fingers sifted through his golden hair before she allowed them to fall back to her side. It didn’t disgust her, it flattered her, but it still felt like a threat to invite in such closeness. Juneau leaned away from him an inch or so as he raised his hand to her, but didn’t ultimately pull away as his pinch had no actual pressure behind it. “If it wasn’t me, you’d probably be dead by now, don’t you think?” she questioned before her expression grew cold, stony, detached, and almost cruel. But above all else, the weight of her eyes suddenly became unyielding and harsh. “And the murdery eyes. Who else do you know that could do this?” Not to mention the most obvious answer: the wolf bond. 

[juliangladiator]

"Often the party is elsewhere," Julian mused, he hadn't meant the original comment from any stint of imaging he was unworthy of company to visit him, but many of the wolves he'd befriended were often seen within the heart of Haven and his gladiator friends never wandered into wolf territory less it was for Lupercalia he'd learned. "But if you see another blonde milling about and maybe even dropping off a multitude of baked goods, try not to give her the murdery eyes," Julian grinned wildly as he poked at the proverbial bear which was Juneau's very genuine spike of jealousy. "That's just Freydis, she-" it seemed as though a lightbulb went off within his mind as he made a possible connection, "-do you know her? She's Iskaran, I met her when I was considering joining the Feronia pack in the first place - I guess she's sort of emissary-adjacent."

Juneau spoke of her housing situation next and Julian attempted to obscure the eclipse of surprise in his eyes as she spoke of yielding her room within the inn. It's not that that Julian didn't see this situation coming, but perhaps he hadn't expected it still so soon; often Juneau held onto things, feelings, and predicaments with her teeth sunk in. He didn't find this growth, this sudden approval of letting go, to be something miraculous of Juneau but indeed the wolf was soothed at this idea of hers, even if he couldn't say it aloud. Juneau had been borderline volatile, this reactionary sense whenever the room and what remain within it was mentioned or even fussed with. Julian saw this as a step forward for Juneau, a sense of saying goodbye to whatever emotions and memories still had their hooks within her.

"Well, where would you go next?" Very bambi-esque eyes looked up at her then, a mix of being both curious and somehow wounded at the thought that she was somehow saying goodbye. Julian couldn't fault Juneau for what she would inevitably choose; her life had been a cruel series of one stint of pain and torment after another, the Kossith was simply the sour bit of icing atop the shit cake. Julian knew not to even entertain the idea of Haven, she'd always been obstinate when it came to her rejection of the pack, but he was certain a vuldak - even with her newfound life - would never feel entirely home within a werewolf pack. "If you could knit something to cover over any pillows, I'd display it with pride," he mocked in turn, grinning at the thought of Juneau picking the frilliest and most gauche thing within a shop.

Juneau squished his face with her fingers and though the grin faded on his expression, the mirth was evident in his eyes. Trust - he knew it was something held in high regard for Juneau and his heart fluttered a touch to hear her finally address where he stood within said trust. When she offered Julian the floor, the gladiator blinked, nose scrunching as she promptly unsquished his countenance. There was indeed much he'd like to ask her but Julian wasn't entirely sure where to begin. As bait to the question he'd pose, Julian reached up to pinch her pale cheek, raising a skeptical brow at Juneau, "How do I know it's really you?"

Her eyes shifted from whatever piece of sparse furnishings had garnered her interest back to Julian’s face and she looked wholly and unabashedly skeptical. “Why shouldn’t you?” she asked as she watched the meager smile on his face grow into something wider. Per usual, he would be able to feel the weight of her judgment: is this smile a performance or is it sincere? “You seem well liked. You know the elites of Eterna and the wolves of Haven. I’m surprised we didn’t come home to find half a dozen of your dearest friends waiting on your doorstep.” Juneau meant it and didn’t mean it all in the same moment. 

Thin shoulders shrug. Her opinion likely would have been different if Alder was waiting at the Inn. It would have been where she insisted on going first, an insistence that would have held no room for bargaining or negotiation. Julian now filled that hole, though he did not fit the margins of it perfectly. Juneau wouldn’t have wanted him to, anyway. “I was thinking of giving up my space at the inn,” she said idly, as if it was something to be blase about. But she knew that Julian had seen how territorial she could be over the room, what was within it, he had seen her lash out at the threat of Alder’s scent within being sullied or anything moved a millimeter from where he had left it. Juneau could not grow in that space anymore, but she could fester within it and change shape from a mere girl to an abscess. Here, within these walls, there was a faint glimmer of hope she might become something more than she already was. 

“That’s not why I offered you money,” Juneau responded to both of his comments. “I’m not interested in contracts or ownership or owing. And I’d hardly miss what it might take for this place to feel like it was yours.” She sucked her teeth as she considered putting her own mark on the place. Part of her wanted to shirk such an offer, to turn it down wholly and outright. But that was the part of her that told her to cut and run from Julian while she was ahead, and that part of her had not won over her desire for proximity to him for months. So why should it now? “Hmm… maybe a nice throw pillow, or some doilies,” she mused aloud. Julian would know those would be the last things Juneau would select just as well as she did. 

Juneau’s fingers wiggled reflexively under the weight of his kiss. Intimacy was foreign to her, it frustrated her as she worked to keep her mind open to it but her body followed a different lead. She was hopeful that might change in time, and not before Julian lost patience or faith for it to happen. Her expression became one of deep thought, as if she was perplexed by the weight and warmth of his head in her hands and could make sense of it if she merely thought hard enough. After he spoke, her eyes met his and she stood with him in a brief, soft moment of understanding. But the leash of her anxieties quickly made itself taught. It was too close, too vulnerable. She squished his cheeks together before responding, “I trust you more than I trust almost anyone else.” There were precious few who had him beat in that regard: Casimir, Jamie, Adrian, Alder even if he was no longer around. She still spoke to him sometimes, quietly, in her own mind. She dutifully un-squished his face. “You can start asking me what you want to know now.”

[juliangladiator]

ONE DAY (2024) | 1.12

[juliangladiator]

The wolves and various guests who'd stuck around after Aurea was declared victorious were raucous even days after the initial challenged had ended and Aurea presented as the victor. Some twirled and dance and sang maddeningly around a growing fire as dusk settled into evening around them and though Julian did not join their festivities, the gladiator felt great relief to know that others could find cause for celebration even as many were still being recovered. There was some hesitancy to wonder if Juneau even vied to accompany him there and he felt it was a betrayal of everything she had offered him over the last few months; the truth of her undeath, the violent undoing of her mortal life, and now having been captured and somehow brought back from the Kossith's violent hand.

Juneau had not survived the endeavor and yet somehow Juneau was still here. Julian took a mental note to give her more credit, for as often as she was reclusive with her inner emotions, her wariness painted the perfect picture of her honest feelings. This credit to Juneau was proved further with what haste she slipped through his front door, propelled by curiosity surely, and Julian could only wonder what she thought of the modest showing she'd find within. "I don't really expect many guests," there's a small smile growing on his expression then, shrugging as he offers some sense of an allowance for him to retrieve something to make this more of a home than a resting place.

Julian had proved rather frivolous with his gladiator earnings; where Dior and the others in their ludi often spent such gold on items and spirits that were emulative of pure decadence, Julian was quieter with such lucrative spending. Often it would be items much like the record player or something to help aid him further in the arena, items of great worth but fewer for him to garner in hefty possession. "You know what I meant," uttered quietly, his eyes flickered up to Juneau's. A grifter, one without a home, but often she'd plucked out many safe places to stay, those she had returned to often over the few months he'd known her. Julian had never known the feeling of such a nomadic existence but he could understand having nothing, he'd slept on a dirt-laden, concrete floor for the first two years of his sentence in the ludi; a cage housing a beast, when really he was just someone who needed an intervention of guidance that was not afforded to him.

"If you wanted to pick something out for yourself, I'd recommend it, but I don't need to owe you anything," his words held a tint of teasing jest, the implication clear that Julian vied for her to pick something out for the cabin that was particular to her and her own interests. It was a bold invitation for him to make for one as skittish as Juneau, but this was the barest makings of a home, and if she'd never had one before, Julian was intent to give her a place that replicated something of comfort for her. He closed the door as Juneau's hands were held up, something he'd noticed the other had done a handful of times since she'd crossed the threshold of the door. Julian stepped forward, holding them in his hands and placing a kiss to one of her palms. He smiled at her in the briefest glimpse of understanding before holding her hands to cradle his face as though an example of what she sought but couldn't translate just yet. "All I ask is that you trust me," kind eyes remained on her, he'd never demand such trust but currently looked for some sign or recognition that, on some level, in some respect, Juneau indeed had come to trust him.

Leave all the celebration to the others, Juneau had figured, though she suspected it took a rather iron-clad personality to have any motivation to have gone from the Kossith’s captivity directly to the festival in Haven. Even if Juneau was more of a social creature, if she were more of a joiner, there was little she could think of that appealed more than sleep and less than the chaos of a crowd. There had been little of the former and no shortage of the latter during the uprising, and Juneau didn’t have the patience for it. Not on first arrival to Haven at least. Perhaps, if prodded or merely asked politely, in a day or so she might waste away hours or even a day. But not tonight–not when she was still overstimulated and raw from the efforts of survival.

Instead, she allowed Julian to lead her to the cabin she could have just as easily followed his scent to. Haven was an odd mix of things familiar to her, desired by her, and repulsive to her. She appreciated its undeveloped wilderness, untouched except where it was necessary to settle and cultivate. And deep down she wished for something to belong to, though she was not convinced that it was the Feronia pack that was capable of filling such a void. Nor did she think she had the stomach for any sort of membership–her attachment still too anxious, too avoidant to do much but to curl her upper lip at the thought of such associations. It was a defense mechanism. Who was to hurt her if she controlled the conditions of why they hated her by Juneau making herself unlovable first? Who was to leave her if she never truly opened a door to their possible permanence in the first place? But the danger was less now–she was still a strange beast, but not the same abyssal monster she had been the last time she walked these grounds. 

Curious as ever, Juneau slipped past Julian into the cabin designated as his. It was simple, basic, and she could not help but think that was fitting for the wolf she had grown a fondness for despite her best efforts. But that was not a negative thing. Julian defied her initial impression of him, mostly stereotypes gleaned by the fact that he was a gladiator. He did not accumulate materialistic wealth around him as a sign of status and import like Dior did, and Juneau was certain this was not by coincidence of Julian’s relatively recent liberation from his contract. Certainly everyone liked nice things, but Julian did not strike her as someone who measured their work in finery and trinkets. He was too sincere for that, which was something within him that she found admirable and frightening all at once. As she looked around, she was primarily curious about two things: his taste in music to complement the record player and whether his half of the fossil from their first meeting was here, or in his smaller, cramped apartment near the stadium. 

“I don’t have a home,” Juneau responded, her dark green eyes still scanning the interior of the cabin. Nowhere in all of Taravell would she be labeled with such a title; she did not have a home, she had a rotation. Julian’s place, the Inn, Jamie’s home in Eterna, a quiet room in the brothel at Hestia’s Cove. None of these were homes, none of these were places she ever stayed long. And as she told Julian she did not have a home, she did not say so with any edge of sadness; she had always been nomadic, the idea of a permanent home held little weight to her. Julian’s movement captured her attention from her peripheral and she returned to him, her hands lifting and then stopping before they dropped back at her sides. “I’m used to carrying everything I own on my back, Julian,” she reminded him, her head canting sideways slightly and her brow arching. She tugged at the bond as she said it, as if to communicate worry over something like this is worry wasted. “Would you like some? To fill the place out a bit more?” The offer was genuine. “I don’t have anything on me, but I can take a little extra from my coffer in the Cove. I need to go there anyway.” 

As she stood next to him, his presence radiating with a warmth that washed over her in a way that made her feel safer than she had in weeks, she lifted her hands again but found her movement stunted and a waste. Juneau wiped her palms on the front of her tunic–this was perhaps the only time he might see her in anything but black due to the necessity of using what could be found on the ship–and chewed the corner of her bottom lip for a moment. “I hope you know,” she said carefully, and after a few moments of thought, “that just because I’m not as good at you at this sort of a thing doesn’t mean I don’t want it, too.” Her hands lifted again, merely hovering, but this time in offering. Juneau knew she didn’t know what to do with them, how to use them as tools to give and accept affection or care, but Julian did. She could feel her heart’s nervous thrum in the hollow of her throat, her temples, buzzing along the length of her spine as her every instinct screamed at her to turn from him for fear of rejection, but she didn’t.

[juliangladiator]

Julian could never truly measure the depth of when something affected her; each time he thought she was wholly conflicted by something it turned out to be the opposite and vice versa. Thus, when Juneau stated she was fine, Julian opted to take it as gospel if it meant that Juneau would not quirk a brow at him or contort her face dramatically in scorn or disgust at his care; not that Julian was ever complaining when she did so in tandem to something he said or did. Julian had learned that he quite liked when she was pushed to draping her aloof and detached persona on for it meant that, in some respect or measurement, he'd related to her to the point where she insisted on flipping the script.

"I didn't really expect for you to clamber back to Haven so soon," there was a borderline cheeky grin gracing his flaxen countenance; if she had expected any argument or rebuttal, Julian had come prepared for this. He had never figured her to be some small and wilted flower in need of nurturing care and Julian, if he happened to ever be in the same predicament, would have certainly chosen to stick around and search for others, too. "Guess you're on my team then," for he knew Juneau would have a field day with his chosen phrasing, turning them back towards where he once faced her, "we can climb back up the mountain or go around." Julian was more than capable of scaling it and then some, but wondered her method of approach considering she had been here for, at least, the last several days.

Once aboard the ship, Juneau sat with him on occasion, but often she lingered between her two friends and he, shifting from spot to spot. It was typical of Juneau, he found, to be a grifter even on a boat where she could not go anywhere but one seat to the next, and his lip would have quirked in mild amusement at this had he not had the unfortunate thought that such back and forth could also be related to anxiety regarding being a passenger on a boat. It was safe to say that her last trip had not gone well, not even a little bit, no, not at all.

Still, within sparse and murmured conversations, half-muttered on Juneau's end, she had agreed to slink away from the madness of any reunion in Haven and find comfort in the silence within his cabin. Julian's was situated farther than others within the pack, he'd been the most recent to join aside from a handful of others, but he often appreciated the walk to get to the main bits of town and the silence afforded to him when he chose not to participate in a rowdy night with the rest of the pack.

He opened the door and what greeted them was a modest affair; most of his things still resided at the cramped residence he'd had outside of the arena, but his record player had made the trip and of course the cabin was situated with a comfortably made bed. The kitchen was... a sad definition of one, but Julian had the basics afforded to him; ingredients to make a quick loaf of bread, an assortment of cheeses and simple meats. If he wanted to make a meal, he'd have to venture off to the market to afford this to them, but he was half certain Juneau would insist otherwise.

"If you want to go back home, I can help you travel the brunt of it, I just-" how easily he could become flustered, how unsure he could be even when Juneau ha agreed to come see his Haven cabin. Regardless of his uncertainty, Julian still proceeded to step aside and beckon her within the door. "I hope you don't mind that there's not much as of right now. As you can imagine there hasn't been many gladiator matches, so I don't have much coin to lend to furnishings," he wasn't embarrassed of such fact but suddenly realized the obvious that there was indeed only two seating options to choose between: the bed and some stools that resided within the kitchen.

To insist he wait, even if she promised to spare no detail, was unsatisfactory. And franky, Juneau couldn’t blame Julian. She would have been just as impatient as he was (likely more so) despite the way he hid his eagerness so politely and allowed her agency to decide when the time was right. Juneau suddenly found she didn’t like having asked for him to wait, something she was certain she wouldn’t have minded or even considered before. But it still felt like the right decision, this wasn’t the right setting for her to be collected enough to tell him whatever he wished to know without distractions or hiding things for fear of prying ears or eyes. But in the meantime she would offer him, “I really am fine.” 

Her brow furrowed when he said the name of the island. It was familiar, and slowly a map unfolded in her mind. When he mentioned Juneau’s reach, her gaze instantly adjusted to the direction it would be in on the horizon, eyes settling on the correct dark smudge of land across the vast expanse of blue. They were closer to Lysara than she had initially expected. Juneau still stared into the distance until he mentioned his surprise that no creatures that had been leveraged against him in the arena had come to tear Juneau to shreds. “Well, I still am what I am,” Juneau pointed out–Vuldaks were no small threat, and she knew she would have no qualms or hesitation tearing anything that vied to harm Jamie or Adrian limb from limb. 

Juneau looked slightly amused when he mentioned multiple boats as if it was nothing. She glanced in the direction he signaled and immediately reported, “East.” He said they could leave whenever she wanted, but she looked conflicted for a few moments. She ached for the time alone with him, to tell him everything that had happened, and it flooded the bond like a sort of soreness or ache. But she wouldn’t leave Adrian or Jamie behind, she would not take a step toward any ship or escape if she did not know they were not directly behind. “I’ll help you all, and we’ll leave together when the island has been searched.” She wasn’t sure if she expected a counter offer from Julian, but she would insist he was up for the task if he attempted to treat her like some fragile thing that had washed ashore.

[juliangladiator]

starter for @etienneulven.

where: haven

when: current timeline!

note: per a clown request! uwu

It'd been a few days since Etienne had been brought back into the mix of things, and though nobody could surpass the inner excitement of Goose, Julian has always been rather fond of the other. Feronia was still rather crowded with allies, those in recovery, those still on the brink of being grievously wounded; but the two of them had sat off on the porch of Julian's cabin - three, because it'd be rude not to count Goose.

"I didn't really understand the whole... Legion thing until a lot of them came passing through here the past month or so," his hand came up as though to encompass what he meant when saying Legion. To Julian, Legion and what they'd fought for, had been this distant folktale until recently. The blonde wolf had often never strayed from the city, save for when he started wandering to Haven, and through brief insight he knew there was at least Etienne and Althea within this group. When some came forth to offer their aid, he hadn't spoken to any directly, but it was the first hard left towards reality which Julian had seen in a while. He doesn't think Feronia is some idyllic cutscene away from the true grit of the world, but Julian had been so entirely removed from it all until the Kossith came and took many whom he loved.

He's still not really sure what he's saying, just maybe that he valued Etienne, that he appreciated them, and hoped he - Goose included - would be sticking around for the near future. "Are you going to meet up with them in the south?"

[juliangladiator]

Within the gladiator arena he was a quiet creature, stuck with an alias that painted the picture of some lycanthropic killer, one not to be meddled with. But as Julian drifted more towards the Haven wolves and this community built, he could be foolish enough to believe that no serpents could ever scale the blockades and slip into the pack to cruelly take secrets for their own interest. "Four of us; got mine when I was ten," this explanation of his home life, still, flowed easily up until Rhys made a stark callout that his mother had been witless enough to be conned several times over. Julian didn't often wish to delve too deeply into his personal life, his home life; such pain greeted him when he looked back upon these times; how they knew little of what awaited them when Julian had been bitten and fell ill. From the inside of the home, to the outer groves, blood had stained the floorboards and the olive trees; he'd set their community back so much and Julian had spent the latter of his life punishing himself for such mistakes.

"You seem to know lots about this person," Julian had blanched momentarily, but the wolf in him snapped back, even if he felt so taken aback at what Rhys had said. "Hard to see the initial carved in it unless you're holding it up close to your face." Sourly he crossed his arms and looked the other way; there wasn't much fight within Julian to prove these things about something so deeply personal and painful for him but this was his mild attempt.

"Lady Ilithyia fucking loves me." He knew her type – the one with the very expensive wigs she basically glued with magic to her head. Those could never be moved, ever, no matter how many had tried. "It helps to have friends in high places. And know their deep secrets." Oh, how he could spill so many good ones from the Game. Still, he knew Julian would never really understand it all, so he didn't bother. Rhys listened for a few moments, tilting his head as he took in the information that Julian was giving him. For free, as well. An entire backstory, ripe for the Journeyman to pry apart and destroy, and he simply stood there. "How many of you were there?" He asked the question now, drinking in this information. It had to be a simple coincidence, had to be. He'd go home and dig the necklace out of his drawer before he did anything with it personally – but the way that Julian spoke about it made something ugly twist inside the Vuldak.

The tattoo was the final straw, perhaps. "I knew someone who had one. Similar, and it had an S carved into the back." The words were out before he could stop them, and he fixed Julian with an unkind gaze, "But he's dead. And with it, all his shit. Couldn't be a sibling, then. If all of you grew up in Hestia's Cove. Sounds like someone ripped her off."

[juliangladiator]

end.

Julian's eyes followed the extent of where her hand pointed; dense trees, lush forests, such was the only thing in that direction but Julian could understand the appeal. "I grew up in a more rustic way of life, it was hard for me to get used to the city, but eventually I managed." Julian was unsure if this was meant to encourage her as they made it further towards civilization, but he had to figure Haven was a perfect middle ground between the bustling state of Eterna and the natural quiet of the wildlands.

"We'll be in Haven just around that bend," the last curve of trees which would lead them to the wall which served as this staggering sentinel above the grounds, "There'll be emissaries, and probably other wolves, who'll ask your business here, but if you need further guidance I won't be far off once we're inside." Haven was larger than many thought once entered within, but it was tethered to the wildlands, harmonious with the nature surrounding it; Julian figured Seriswyn would fit right in even though she was neither witch or wolf.

[juliangladiator]

Juneau could read him so fluently, it hardly surprised Julian when she spoke aloud and confirmed or validated what he was simply thinking within. Though, the puzzled look on his expression would not take a genius to figure out why he was so vividly bewildered. Julian could only nod, slowly at first and then with more confidence towards the matter - no matter how he tortured himself on the how, such semantics no longer mattered when indeed she was here, alive and seemingly well. He tried to hide the small tilt of a smile on his countenance when Juneau went upon her tiptoes to look over his broad shoulder, focusing more on her question save she might come to scold him the way she was notorious for when he appreciated something rather adorable about the way she was or operated.

"Aurelia," Julian turned a half step, encompassing the area in his own field of vision. If one was to find themselves in one of the many exclusive watching rooms of the gladiator arena, one would be able to see the dense forests of Aurelia - from the correct vantage point of course. "Right next to Juno's Reach; I think there have been times they've plucked some wildlife from here for a match or two. It's known to be sacred to the goddess of the hunt or something." Sometimes Julian had genuine facts in his arsenal, but these were all things regurgitated from others telling him as such. At his own mention though, he took another glance around, another mildly puzzled expression gracing his features, "Surprised you haven't run into any of said wildlife."

"I think they've just lent her a boat or two or three," but many had dedicated themselves to helping retrieve others without signing up under the leadership of Aurea to do so and that went without saying. "Docked off through that way," his werewolf senses lent to a correct sense of direction but that didn't mean Julian would be proficient in explaining it; the gladiator pointing off towards where he once entered the small pocket of the forest where she resided. "We can leave whenever you'd like," there was some relief as he said this, visible on his expression; it was clear even Julian would prefer to leave at once if able. "They may take a few hours to circle around this place, but there's quite a few of us wolves, so it should help speed up the process."

Julian frequently made himself clear to Juneau to read without him needing to say much at all. She appreciated that about him. He was neither shallow nor one dimensional, nor was he boring in the way that one could always predict what he might think, feel, or say, but he often presented himself and his thought pattern for what it was. It was a communication skill and style Juneau struggled to believe she would ever achieve, and that she was destined for a long stretch of years of being misunderstood in a way Julian might not need to worry about in the same way. In the moment, she appreciated his look of befuddlement. It was impossible that she stood in front of him. Not because she wasn’t a survivor or because Julian lacked faith in her, but because she possessed no memory of the in between that was her temporary death, and she knew she could not grasp what emptiness that would manifest through the bond. 

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know when we’re safe,” she promised in response to the look on his face. Finally, she straightened up to attempt to peer over his shoulder–he was a mountain of a man in comparison to her borderline miniature frame–toward the lapping tide. “Where are we exactly?” 

From what Juneau could tell, Aurea wasn’t there, and thus his initial statement elicited little more than a raised brow imploring him to continue speaking. “Pirates?” she repeated. Now both brows were lifted and her hands were on her hips. Did that mean she should expect Elokian to overtake the peak behind them any moment and to come flying down the mountain in a fit of expected emotion regarding her salvation? It wouldn’t be the first time. And Robin, her equally unlikely friend, still owed her a drunkenly promised trip to Caribella. Pirates were sneaks, and he’d probably try to lie to her and say this was Caribella and that his promise had been kept. “Okay, well where is the ship? Because I haven’t seen a single dragon.” Only a bat.  

Juneau’s questioning didn’t lie in the realm of disbelief. She just hated to imagine the ship was across the mountain range that bisected the island. For herself and Julian, crossing them would be little trouble. Juneau could manage the trip in a day whether she shifted or not. But Adrian and Jamie did not have the same abyssal constitution she did or the advantage of taking on the journey on four legs, and she doubted they viewed the ascent and descent of a mountain as a fun day trip the way she did. She also hated to think about the wait to steer the ship around the island–the time it would take to load up the collection of people she cared about so deeply, who she wished to see returned to their homes. "Do you think we'll be able to leave today?"

A sudden pang of sadness flashed through her when she thought for the first time that there would be no Alder for her to return to, that she would never get to tell him he was right through grit teeth, and she would never be burdened with pretending to be too aloof and cool not to be as excited about her change of fate as she was. She was still staring down the coastline as she thought of this, and tried to disguise the sudden quiver of her bottom lip. If Julian pointed out the watering of her eyes she would blame it on the sun despite the fact it was to her back.

[juliangladiator]

Julian's eyes followed the extent of where her hand pointed; dense trees, lush forests, such was the only thing in that direction but Julian could understand the appeal. "I grew up in a more rustic way of life, it was hard for me to get used to the city, but eventually I managed." Julian was unsure if this was meant to encourage her as they made it further towards civilization, but he had to figure Haven was a perfect middle ground between the bustling state of Eterna and the natural quiet of the wildlands.

"We'll be in Haven just around that bend," the last curve of trees which would lead them to the wall which served as this staggering sentinel above the grounds, "There'll be emissaries, and probably other wolves, who'll ask your business here, but if you need further guidance I won't be far off once we're inside." Haven was larger than many thought once entered within, but it was tethered to the wildlands, harmonious with the nature surrounding it; Julian figured Seriswyn would fit right in even though she was neither witch or wolf.

It seemed his ability to reason time was on par with his ability to riddle away the meaning of a word he had not known. Seriswyn might have praised him for how astute he was–a very desirable trait–if the topic did not salt the wounds of her grief. “Yes, around that time.” She had been one of the Iskaran refugees who had chosen to forego the last leg of the exodus into Eterna where stipends and apartments for those who had been displaced waited. The woods were a better landing place for her, and she seldom left them. “I settled off that way,” she explained, a hand gesturing toward the west. “It is quiet and there are few visitors aside from children who think they knock on the door of a bog witch when they toss their pebbles at my door.” 

“Well, I will be glad it is you nonetheless,” Seriswyn responded. If this young man Julian knew anything about Elvhen, he would likely know they could not lie. “Then we will have to do everything we can for you to enjoy it in your waking hours for many years to come.” How? Seriswyn did not know, but she was waking from the dark slumber of grief and learning to participate in the world again. She did not wish to watch it slip through her fingers yet again, or for the legacy of her child and wife to be nothing but a phantom of grief in the shape of a woman.

[juliangladiator]

His enthusiasm towards life was not so easily tempered, whether he was beaten or bested in the gladiator arena, or salvaging those currently lost at sea from the harrowing subjugation through the Kossith. The situation seemed somewhat dire, bodies of those who'd not made it were found drifting through the calloused waves of the sea, but Julian remained this upbeat creature, an emulation of positivity as though they needed their spirits to be at their highest the more grim the situation became. Recovery efforts were often not a kindness, many salvaged worse for wear, or suffering some injury or another. He was more than glad to see Juneau in one piece, even if Julian could not entirely believe it himself.

Such disbelief was clear in the continuously puzzled expression that seemed the baseline for Julian currently. Even between his breathless smiles, or returning a fleeting kiss to Juneau through the crushing embrace of a hug upon her, Julian's face still resounded back to the puzzled face. Mostly for the fact it seemed there was this subtle overhaul of her, these indelible changes that resonated with her spirit and her soul, rather than anything on the surface. The way she did not sourly fight the embrace and even returned a few stolen kisses of her own; that alone surprised Julian for it seemed the entirety of them knowing each other had been Juneau simply, frustratingly, doing this strange dance. A secret spilled from her would only then be met with explosive resistance from her for daring say it. Julian had always been patient, been forthcoming, and the more dark secrets he learned about her, the more he further understood.

Vuldak - though perhaps no longer? Julian wasn't sure, he'd barely known the true brunt of lycanthropy until he met Aurea and joined the Feronia pack as a result. "Aurea has plenty friends in plenty places," Julian shrugged, the logistics to him didn't quite matter, but he was certain it was the generosity of a pirate captain that had allotted Aurea her share of boats to help man recovery efforts. "Pirates to lend us the boats, dragons to soar the skies, I can't much believe it myself. But... here we are," he smiled softly, almost as immoveable as stone, once Juneau seemed to settle further into the embrace, Juneau looking out towards the shoreline. He didn't wish to disturb her or feel she must move if he brought attention to the fact Juneau was indeed resting her head upon his chest, so Julian simply said nothing, despite the fact he yearned to hear her speak; listening to the slowed beat of her heart was enough, for it was something he'd not yet heard before at all from her.

From time to time, Juneau might continue to poke at Julian’s sensitivities in pretending the bond between them was not real. Far more often, though, she had come and would come to use it as a tool of clarification, as a method with which to clarify a teasing reality below her stormy exterior. He had likely grown used to it enough to know vaguely how she was feeling and faring with a gentle tug at the ties that bound them and a cursory glance, but her nuances were hard to read, even if she didn’t intend on making a mystery of them. She wouldn’t claim that Julian was obvious or simple, but he did not use the same barbed wire of a disposition Juneau did as a safety measure, and he did not hide his emotions from her the way she obscured hers from him for so long. 

She could sense that Julian picked up on the parts of her that were different than before, a nagging feeling that could only be their bond. Mercifully, he did not pepper her with questions immediately. Juneau wasn’t afraid of what he might ask, and she wasn’t unwilling to answer them either. But after some months of separation, she found it quite comforting simply to be with him for the time being. When she did wriggle against his chest in a small act of protest she used any space he afforded not to withdraw from him, but to unpin her arms from between them and wrap them around him properly. Awkwardly, a hand patted his back, and again she thought to herself that she would really need to practice this whole affection ordeal. 

“What I’m hearing you say is that I’m right,” Juneau thought aloud as she leaned her head back slightly, but she offered him another clumsy, momentary kiss. She learned it was somewhat difficult to kiss a smiling figure–Ivar rarely liked kissing, and though he sometimes sported a cruel imitation of one, he never smiled. She turned her head away from the cliffside expanse of the island where Julian had just come from, the side of her head resting against his chest as she looked further down the shoreline. “There are several of us that way, and no one else for miles after. But I haven’t made it around the entire perimeter of the island yet. If anyone else washed up here, I don’t know where they are.” She straightened up to look at him again. “How did you all get here?”