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[r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t]

Name: Elias Hart

Age: 25

Species: Aware

Circle: Mortalis

Known Relationships: Connor Talbot II (Boss), Matthew Coleman-Reyes (Roomate), Esmeray Talbot (Friend?), Sebastian Harker (Boyfriend???) Thaddeus James (Indebted to), Cameron Kiskadden, Kel Trebond, Chloe Li (A-Team)

— What's your name?

He eyed Kel with a grin, deciding not to comment on how embarrassing it must have been to ask such a silly question to the people they knew, “Elias Bartholomew Hart,” a pause “I’m kidding. Elias Sullivan Hart.” He fiddled around in the kitchen, darting this way and that before plating a piece of freshly set pie and placing it in front of the other, “Coconut cream. Tell me how it tastes. Tweaked the recipe and I’m wondering if it’s too much coconut and not enough cream. Eat it before it melts.” He pulled out the chair across from Kel and plopped down into it as if it was the first time he stopped moving that day, as he breathed out it seemed the apartment sighed with him; both settled comfortably into their bones. He made no move to hide how he stared pointedly at the recorder placed perfectly in between the middle of them, “Is that necessary? Will this be played for the court?”

— How do you know Tabitha Spencer?

He shook his head, a long and drawn out movement for an emphasis that others wouldn’t get to see, “I don’t. Didn’t talk to her during the party. Watched her. Listened. The only reason I know of her is because I’m friends with Bash. Though. From what I’ve gathered. She doesn’t seem like...” his gaze fell to the recorder and he snapped his mouth shut, teeth making an audible click “Doesn’t matter. Just useless conjecture.”

— How do you know Jose Alves Cruz?

He sucked air between his teeth and raised his shoulders to his ears, nose scrunched up and eyebrows furrowed, “He’s the mayor?” He looked towards Kel, silently asking if that was correct, “I don’t follow politics, so I don’t know much- Oh! He’s Jo’s dad. Dodgy dude. It seemed like-” gaze once again fell onto the recorder, “It seemed like this was the type of event he was used to. Bodyguards and all.”

— How do you know Hollis Fiala?

The gleam in his eyes dulled as he set his jaw, every muscle in his body tensed as if he was about to pounce with claws out to tear through even the tiniest sound, “They’re a circle leader.” And that was all he had to say.

— Did you see the shot happen/what happened that night from your perspective?

“I did not. But I heard it.” This particular question had caught his full attention, words waiting on his tongue for the chance to spill out when no one could catch them “There were two shots, but only one bullet. Not because it was lost or lodged into something. It was. Not. There. There was no second bullet. A perfect distraction if you ask me, cause the crowd to rile…u..p” His gaze snapped up to meet Kel’s, eyes wide with realization before it was quickly distinguished by an awkward laugh, “Uhm. Everything was Chaos. It was good that Hollis’ healing went well. They’re lucky it was just the shoulder, honestly one of the best places to get shot.”

— When did you get the invitation for the party/know you were going to work it?

He hummed, “In the mail. I can’t recall when. Probably around the same time everyone else did, that’s how the postal service works. Mine was different though.” Elias reached into a wooden stand hung up on the wall and plucked out the invitation, giving it to the other, “Mr. Thaddeus was rather adamant on me coming. Why, you may ask? I don’t know. The group didn’t even need me, you had two other capable healers. Suppose I went to watch someone get shot again.” And leave with nothing, is what he wanted to say but decided against it.

— Did you go with someone?

“Kind of.” He fiddled with the edge of the fraying tablecloth that hung precariously off the table, put there minutes before Kel walked through the door in a poor attempt to spruce it up, “You were there. Don’t you know?-“ He cut himself off, remembering a bit too late that this was all a formality, “You, Chloe, Matthew, Lilith, Bash, and Cam. I didn’t go with someone specifically though. Which was for the best, it was a terrible night. Everything was off, we did everything right. From the looks of it, it seems like…” he sighed, “It was weird.”

— Do you own a gun/have you ever owned a gun?

He made a choked sound that was immediately covered by a forced laugh, “Uh. No. Never. They’re dangerous.” He pushed away from the table, picking up the dirty plate as he walked towards the kitchen sink, “Though. I suppose they’d be needed now more than ever.” The dish clattered amongst leftover silverware, “I’ve shot one before. Weird bonding exercise with my college hockey team.” Facing away from Kel he shut his eyes tight and white knuckled the edge of the counter, maybe he said too much?

@midnightunderground-npcs

[r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t]

desertsiren​:

r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t​:

Just One Lullaby

Where: The Cradle

When: The Day of Soul Magic

Time: 10:36pm

TW: Blood, Gunshot, Gun, Wound, Panic attack

The human was a strange one. Intriguing even without his own magic - Aware and yet not. He seemed to pick up concepts quickly in the time between their conversations, but he’s far too eager to give of himself.  It would land him in trouble sooner rather than later. But Oliver wasn’t stupid enough to turn down a Debt completely, even if his conscious had miraculously awakened to add terms to the human’s benefit. The thrum of his harmony became audible as Ollie rounded the corner and saw him. It’s abnormal. The smell of something just to the left of the fear he frequently looked for was tempting, but wrong.

A small hum escaped his lungs in response to the shout, and when the other turned, he cocked his head at the unfinished wound dressing. “Clearly not, if you’re having trouble. You asked for help, and so I am here. Sit, and give me the fastener.” He sucked his teeth sympathetically at the red angry skin now that he was close enough to see. “Come, come, we’ll get you fixed up. Tell me what happened, to get you like this, and then I’ll Sing for you. Rest is key to recovery, no?”

-

He wasn’t reluctant to hand over the bandage, actually rather glad that he no longer had to fumble around stupidly with it, but the embarrassment of it all was clear when he slowly closed in on himself before offering his hand. Just another thing to make him feel useless, being incapable of the simplest task which was the very first thing they taught him in med school. He was only a bit distracted when Oliver began to dress his wound, when normally he would have been exhilarated for the siren to look his way, but even the full attention of a gorgeous man couldn’t offer him a sweet escape. 

His gaze snapped up in response to the bright sound of sympathy, bristling briefly before forcing himself to relax. Tearing apart tight muscles, he demanded his shoulders to fall and his fingers to go limp, “Yes, rest is key to recovery. Did you hear that from some cliche doctor show?” He rolled his eyes, making a dramatic show out of it. The two of them had spent a fair bit of time together at the Cradle during the lockdown and they fell into an easy sort of rhythm, prodding and poking each other with carefree giggles, it was nice- familiar. “The soul magic,” he looked up through long eyelashes hoping that was enough of an explanation despite knowing it was not, “Something happened. I don’t know what. Noa tried to go to Jo but we were specifically told not to touch anyone, so I grabbed on to her. I shouldn’t have done that- for multiple reasons but I don’t know? It was like everything in me popped and all the pain I have ever felt is now seeping out. Not physical pain, but emotional. And that’s worse. So much worse.” 

[r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t]

camkiskadden​:

r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t​:​

That was, indeed, a lot. Cam smoked through it all, stretching his legs, shins crossed at the ankle, the heel of his dusty workboot clunking heavily against the old porch timbers. His brow furrowed, not much; towards an exhausted brand of bafflement, rather than any kind of upset. The apology, whatever it’d been for, exactly, was… appreciated. Not necessarily accepted. Might encourage him a little too far. Still. Whatever cruelty Cam had in him, he let it lie, a sleeping dog. And sighed past that cigarette, slow, silent, after Elias seemed done; waiting him out, just to make sure he’d said his piece. For the moment, anyway. Never seemed to run low on pieces, this one. 

“Jesus,” he started, finally. “There anything you don’t blame yourself for, around here?” Fairly or not, that was a hell of a laundry list. Austin. Connor. Esme. Him, as if that… moment, on the line, had been more than what it was. Just an exhausted mistake. Cam didn’t leave room for Elias to answer; the point’d been made, he’d hope. “First thing I want you to know, is this: it’s not my call, whether you’re kept around or not. Even as any kinda Orator. We don’t exile anybody as Aware as you are, now. Understand?” If Elias didn’t, at this point - well, time to correct the hell out of that. 

Still, Cam said it softly, or as soft as he could say much of anything, hoarse from days of scrambling, sleepless. “Second,” he added, knocking some ash into the can. “Wasn’t your fault, reminding me of anything.” Anyone, either. “You couldn’t have known. Didn’t know him.” Who still did, around the Underground? Who the hell remembered Malcolm Kiskadden at all, nevermind as more than the shitshow of his generation, a burn-pile of mistakes, piled high, lit up, gone out too quick? Cam swallowed the knot trying to tie off his throat, untangling the ache as he turned his head, blowing smoke in a bluish curl that hung on the near-night air. “Thank you, for the update on Jo. And looking after her. She’s… always deserved better than she got.” Now, too, when what she was about to get was the chance to help save some lives, spare some suffering - at the cost of her own, maybe. God, that it’d come to this…

He opened his mouth to speak but it snapped closed when met with a rhetorical question. In most other situations- when he wasn't groveling for forgiveness that was in low supply- he would have chirped back, never having been able to take something on the nose without protest. Yet he decided to respond with a heavy sigh and his shoulders pulled up to his ears. Being told he wouldn’t be booted from the underground was some bit of comfort floating around the uncertainty of ‘what was worse than exile?’ It would only make sense that there was some form of emergency evacuation plan when someone like him knocked over a few too many dominoes, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be faced with that impending doom when it seemed like everything around them was crashing down. 

He was quick to snatch up the silence, desperate to fill it with anything but painful memories and past regrets, “That doesn’t erase the hurt. I may not have to be sorry for reminding you but I am sorry that you had to go through that pain at all.” His hand reached out without any real thought behind it resting behind the ash can so it wouldn’t tip over. Moving a bit further it floated above Cam’s arm as he second guessed the thought of giving a comforting touch, ultimately Elias decided to drop his hand back into his lap. “It was hard to get anything out of your mother. Even what she wanted for dinner. But with what I was allowed to know, I’m smart enough to connect the dots. And I’m sorry.”

He nodded solemnly as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, gaze focused on the nothing in the skyline. Treatment plan after treatment plan being dismissed upon the realization that he had no idea what was going on, and an all-consuming fear set heavy in his stomach knowing that he may not be able to save his friend. But he was going to try. “This is all new to me, and it’s a lot of information to take on. But what isn’t foreign is taking care of someone I love, and I would do anything for Jo. But don’t tell her that, it’ll go to her head.” He cleared his throat, moving awkwardly to try and find a comfortable position in an uncomfortable chair, “You’re- Uh. You look very tired. Um. Even someone as strong-hardy as you needs to get rest, even if it isn’t a proper amount of sleep.” His eyes were locked on to Cam’s expression as he shrunk away from the hunter with a worried look of his own.

[r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t]

Those poor patrons of Luna’s Books who were met with the sarcastic smile and snide remarks of the sales associate who looked like he met Thanatos himself and so wisely made the decision to spit in his face. It wasn’t their fault, but the lull in customers was a solace to Elias who was desperately trying to piece his personality back together. Like the books that slot perfectly into the empty holes he tried to stuff his emotions back into his soul. A little happiness over here, a little empathy over there, far too much sadness- It was a fruitless effort and Elias resigned to knowing he would feel nothing but…nothing for the foreseeable future.

When the bell above the door rang his shoulders slumped as he sighed, “Welcome, we’re having a sale. Buy one get one the exact same price it usually is.” Turning to meet a familiar face he was surprised, and the little noise that left his mouth told Parker too. “Where the fuck have you been?” His teeth clacked together as he mentally backtracked, “Sorry. A vacation, huh? Doesn’t sound quite as fun as the hell we went through.” He returned to pressing the books into their spots, “I’m not sure ‘pissed’ is the right word. I’m not sure what the right word is? Some people said some things that I apparently did not take well. Odd, me, the most dramatic motherfucker there is, being upset at pointed statements stabbed into my chest? I’m just flabbergasted!” He scoffed, the small hairs framing his face falling into his eyes, “I believe I pissed off Thaddeus. Unsure how to explain to him that my personality does not translate well over text. Other than that everything has been just peachy. Just great, and perfect, and everything I’ve ever wished for.” He fell silent, only the short shaky breaths that left him made any sound.

He thought better of it, once- twice- three times as he tidied the display of new arrivals, chewing on the words he wanted to spit out and grind into the ground until they no longer meant anything but dust. Regretfully, his tongue was always faster than his mind, “Have you ever felt that everyone around you was singing a song that you didn’t know? You try to sing along but you slur the words, and when you ask for help they just tell you to listen. Listen. You do listen, but none of it makes sense, yet you still try to sing with them and it just feels wrong. So you start singing quieter and quieter until you stop, and when you do they all turn to look at you upset that you are no longer trying. You don’t know whether to try again and you sure as hell can’t run, so you’re frozen in this place of confusement and resentment. The ugly, vile taste of jealously stinging your tongue,” he pushed a book into its place, the pages bending against hard wood, “You’re fucked if you do, you’re fucked if you don’t. And you don’t really have anyone to turn to because the people you thought you trusted view you the same as those who hate you. And the others, you don’t want to burden them with something so stupid. Something you should just get over because- because APPARENTLY YOU AREN’T IMPORTANT AND YOU’LL NEVER BELONG!” A clenched fist slammed against an empty shelf, the wood groaning under its weight, “WHY ARE YOU EVEN TRYING? IT'S A WASTE OF THE TIME YOU COULD BE USING TO HELP OTHERS WHO WILL NEVER HELP YOU BACK BECAUSE- BECAUSE YOU DON’T! FUCKING! MATTER!” He released the death grip he had on the bookshelf, fingers curling back into a ball as they fell to his sides, “You know, I’m good at things. I can do things. I’m not a screw up, I’m really not. I can be important too.” He would cry if he could, he thought, but the place behind his ribs was hollow and everything else was numb.

a closed starter for @r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t​

where: luna’s books

Sometimes, when a disaster goes down at home that threatens your life, your ability to survive, your very livelihood, a vacation is needed. Parker’s sudden decision to vacation on Floridian beaches while people fought and bled and did whatever else occurs in a veritable war was what she considered one of her greatest ideas. It had been divine down there, and the games she was able to play with people at the theme parks down there were so relaxing. Parents at Disney World around the holidays were possibly her favorite targets. If they weren’t her favorite, they certainly held a special place in her mind.

As they waltzed through Las Vegas, a small smirk held firmly in place as they hummed to themselves, they were struck with the idea to swing by a bookstore. Obviously, Parker didn’t read much, but gut feelings like that had always seemed to pay off over their long life and so they turned, heading towards Luna’s Books.

After getting in, she knew who was there with her. She couldn’t have stopped the grin that grew from that old smirk if she tried as she called out with a light “You hoo!” She had missed Elias while she was away. He had such potential. “Hello my dear! I’ve returned from vacation and I have such stories to share, but you seem so terribly pissed off, dear.” Leaning against a bookcase, they looked at the Aware. “Come, tell Uncle Parker what’s wrong. You are their favorite, after all.”

[r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t]

What was the saying, a little boy dressed in his father’s suit? A lost child in a world that would never be his own? Out of place, undesirable, unwanted, unwelcome, not good enough, not good enough, NOT GOOD ENOUGH! Whatever it was, whatever he was meant to feel when his head was filled with the snide remarks of the crowd surrounding him, he didn’t. He felt nothing. Fingers wrapped around a glass of champagne that span with the slightest movement, the ichor threatening to spill across the floor staining the perfectly white tiles with a dull sort of gold. He brought the flute to his lips but didn’t dare to open them, terrified by the memory of a wicked smile reminding him that he would never belong. If he spoke, if he dared to breathe, they would all notice the imposter that tainted their underground. Sets upon sets of eyes tearing him limb from limb until all he could possibly be was small and alone. So terribly alone.

He no longer felt like an outsider, he was one, standing by himself in a place that was far too fancy for someone like him. His downturned gaze lingering on the couples who laughed brightly, something heavy sat on his chest and bubbled up his throat daring to spread out into a nasty scowl. That ugly, unsightly jealousy he so desperately tried to hide behind an unending torrent of empathy. If he bombarded them with support, he thought, he could conceal that flaw that made him so painfully human. But there, completely alone, what threat of shame was there to loom over him, casting that imperfection in the veil of darkness? So he let it consume him, if only briefly, infecting his thoughts until it seeped into his being and made him rigid.

How was it fair, how was any of this fair? How could they look at him- look past the curiosity that shattered into fear and demand him to change? He was trying, he was learning, and perhaps they needed him to learn faster but he was stubborn and confused. Why couldn’t he go and party, did he not deserve to spend time with the people he called friends? While they celebrated a new year- a new beginning together, where was he? The Aware that cared so deeply for them. And when he needed someone, where were they?

The guilt was quick to chase after the envy, squashing it beneath its heavy feet. It left only the sickly chill of regret behind, and he had felt more empty than before. Did anyone see, he worried, the monster that dwelled precariously close to the surface? But a familiar fizzle and pop snapped his eyes wide as people cheered, a happy melody where he was the dissonance. Carefully he approached a window, wondering with every step if his legs would give out. He watched the sky light up with a rainbow of fireworks, a beautiful sight spoiled by a moment of woe. In the reflection he spotted himself, colored with the dark blue of a dying rocket- pitiful. The next to burst was a crimson red that shined only in his eyes, an irrational anger burning behind his gaze. Upset at only himself, upset that he would let something-someone make him feel so weak.

“Okay ugly duckling. You’ve got yourself and only yourself. And you will be strong- brave for you.” Voice masked by the sound, “Freeze your heart. Freeze it all.”

[r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t]

Just One Lullaby

Where: The Cradle

When: The Day of Soul Magic

Time: 10:36pm

TW: Blood, Gunshot, Gun, Wound, Panic attack

@desertsiren

Elias had heard gunshots before- on the tv, in movies, tucked safely in bed late at night, but the fake renditions could never prepare him for the deafening silence that came afterwards. The thunk of a body hitting the cement, the ringing in his ears and then nothing, absolutely nothing, like the world was holding its breath along with him. When he let it out as a weak wheeze everything began to scream, pleading for his attention- for his forgiveness as panic and agony played tug of war with his mind.

The grit of the cement cut through his palms as he crawled to loom over his brother. A soft smile still on his face as he tried to quell Elias’ worst fear, the toppling of the castle he precariously built on the promise of a future. With his energy draining fast his brother lifted his arm to place a warm hand against his cheek, an “I love you” when his voice no longer worked. When his hand fell against the sidewalk, mimicking the thunk heard moments ago, Elias was left with a crimson print plastered on his face. The red streaking with every fallen tear.

It was silent in The Cradle’s back rooms, tucked away from the curious eyes of the unaware. The quiet acting as the perfect backdrop for his own personal hell that replayed behind his eyes. Mindlessly he wrapped the bubbling wound on his hand, over and over and over and over and- until the bandage bit into flesh and he popped back to the present. He tried to blink away the memory, each scene pausing every time he closed his eyes- he just couldn’t escape.

With a breath that was barely a sigh he tugged at the bandage with no avail, his hands barely steady enough to hold the material yet still asked to rip it. His gaze swept over the perfectly organized medical table searching for a pair of scissors but his eyes wouldn't focus, everything just a formless blob of beige and white. He slammed his hands down in frustration, releasing a cry lodged deep in his throat with the momentum. Normally he would have felt embarrassed, such an outburst of anger unbecoming of him but when he turned to meet Oliver’s form he felt nothing, absolutely nothing. “That was quick. You should have taken your time. I’m sorry.”

[r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t]

One of the more peculiar types of supernatural he had met were specters, they challenged every preconceived notion he had. Though he’s not sure if he should have found the disparities surprising, since all his information was gathered from the mass media’s interpretation of ghosts. Yet he still found it odd- not bad but eyebrow raising- when he leaned against Matthew’s solid shoulder. He sighed as if he suddenly remembered how to breath, both shaky and wet. The panic hadn’t entirely subsided, and he was sure it was going to last well into the week, but by now he was an expert at self-soothing and calmed enough to carry on a conversation. 

“Not hunters. Not this time. Not yet.” He pressed his back hard against the couch cushion making the furniture groan, “Soul magic- That I’m not sure how to explain. It went horribly. Went to shit. Everyone was hurt in some way, but no one died.” He shrugged, although he knew no one was dead he was also aware that some of them felt like it. “We need to head to The Cradle, that’s a safe house. The hunters are targeting supernatural to kill. To make into trophies. I don’t know how corporeal you are but it’s better safe than sorry- and someone else may be able to provide those answers.” He tipped forward to rest his head in his hands, rubbing furiously at his eyes, “There’s going to be a huge free for all cluster fuck. We need as many hands as we can get but you are staying with me. That’s final.”

Fortunately for Elias, it barely took more than a second for his undead roommate to show up with a trail of spectral mist amalgamating into the image of what used to be his physical body. “Where the hell have you been?! Are you hurt? Why did you need a doctor? I swear, if you got into some hunter shit I-I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ve been worried sick!” Matthew fretted openly, frantically waving his hands around his head as he quite literally hovered over the younger man in a nervous frenzy.

Once the last traces of his body fizzled into sight, he made a show of flopping onto the couch beside Elias and leaning in. “Seriously, kit. What’s happening and what can I do to help?“

[r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t]

Home is where the…soul is?

Location: Elias and Matthew’s Apartment

Time: 4:20pm

@b00-fucking-h00

It had been days since he’d been back to the apartment, having holed himself up in the Cradle after the fiasco that was the break in. He wasn’t sure if he was still fuming about the property damage or the fact they stole his pumpkin pie. Nevertheless, he knew it was time to pop his head in to show that he hadn’t been killed yet, and if he could convince the resident specter to come back to the safe house with him that would be an added bonus. And he really needed a win.

Walking through the door he sighed, that familiar comfort of home was drowned by the fear of possible death and chaos. He was sure by now he would have been used to it, but he guessed people needed more than two weeks to harden themselves against hell. “Matthew it’s me. Sorry about the scare. And thank you for contacting Cam,” he called out to an empty room, completely unaware if his roommate was even there at the moment. Plopping down on the couch he put his face in his hands and groaned, pressing his palms against his eyes until he was swimming in stars, “I have a lot to tell you about. Important things.” He tried again, moving to stuff his phone in between two cushions, hoping the fluff would prevent anyone- or anything from listening in.

[r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t]

Family Meeting

Location: The Hunter Hole

Time: 2:30pm

@esmerays

Nothing with Esme was ever conventional. Be it because of their striking differences he wasn’t sure. Though the start of their relationship was tempestuous at best and he was certain that was entirely one sided. To put it simply, he didn’t like her. There was no concrete reason why, or perhaps he could just never put it into words, and it’s the same now but for different reasons. Looking back on it, he feels as if the change had happened overnight, but with the whirlwind the past two weeks have been he’s found that his memories are a hazy mist of broken words and flashing images. He thinks that maybe Esme had slowly chipped away at him, or he just took his sweet time to get over himself- well, the fear and hesitation he had towards those new unknowns. And while they still had their clear differences- that at times seemed almost untraversable- she had become one of the few puzzle pieces that made up his heart.

He never had a mom, not in the sense that an average loving family had. She birthed him, they occupied the same space, and she had monstrous expectations of her child who was practically a stranger. He was more a doll- a trophy that she over polished until the metal was dent and paint stripped bare, revealing what it really was- a damaged adult. And because of that he never found truth in the saying ‘You can’t miss what you’ve never had’ for he mourned that missing love for years, until he met Esme. Though, he found himself worrying quite often that maybe he was odd for seeing her as his mother, instead playing it off like an elaborate inside joke- but god did he wish it was true. He felt safe and seen and loved by her and that was why he was stopped in the middle of a long hallway with his heart in his throat, repeating a perfectly rehearsed apology that he knew he would forget the moment he saw her.

This was a new feeling, and he hated it; knowing that he hurt the person he wished to make proud- wished to only show love too. An inevitability in any relationship but he tried so desperately to be god and create the unattainable. Slowly he rounded a corner and spotted her, the pinpricks of panic crawling up his arms “Esme? Thank you for allowing me to speak to you. I-“ a deep sigh, “There are a lot of things I want to say, but I don’t want to overwhelm you or waste your time. There is already so much going on right now. But to start, I’m sorry. I hurt you, I didn’t try to understand our differences- how you felt and I assumed that everyone was the same as me. That’s wrong. That wasn’t okay. I want to do better, I want to learn because I don’t want to lose you. Because I love you,” he shook his head “I understand I say that a lot, but I do. I genuinely love you. So deeply.”

[r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t]

What We Do in the Shadows

Location: The Hunter Hole

Time: 9:15 pm

@eunxyeong

Darkness had slowly crept up the Kiskadden hill until there was nothing to see but night. Pollution from the city below covered the stars in a thick smog that shielded the land from any respite of light. Elias had been quick to learn that the darkness would never again be his friend, no longer a gentle lullaby into sleep but cover for the monsters hidden within. If he still had the capacity to care he may have taken shelter in the house until morning, safe with the hunter and the supernaturals who didn’t want him dead- well, mostly. Yet, he dared to play with fate's fire and walked into the pitch black with nothing but the flashlight on his phone and an audacity larger than god itself.

With his back towards danger he rummaged around the trunk of his car piling a mishmash of gifts into his arms, he held them like a baby against his hip- a weird retail therapy baby. A blender for Connor, a hoby for Clem, an apology for Esme, and a large bottle of alcohol for Cam. He expected an odd look from the cashier when he purchased the gaggle at the nearest superstore, but from the look of himself he supposed it all fit- perhaps a little too well, embarrassingly so. With a shaky sigh caught in the back of his throat he clicked the trunk closed and turned around to yelp, heart pounding hard against his ribs, “Eun. Lovely to see you. So lovely in fact that I screamed in joy, not because you scared the shit out of me. I haven’t seen you in a while. Shame really. Were you here to pay the President a visit or to taunt Connor?”

[r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t]

impofgreed​:

r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t​:

*

Some people, as Parker had learned in their years both above and below this earth, just couldn’t be pleased. She’d thought an Aware, the kind of person so Greedy for knowledge they forced their way into a world that wanted nothing to do with them, would be a bit more fun, a bit less… Caught up in the verbal webs and nets of the people around them. It really was a shame that Elias, for all his potential, seemed… Boring in the flesh.

“Oh honestly,” Parker sighed as she leaned on the bar across from him. “Really, Elias? I can’t tell whether you just tried and utterly failed to cross yourself or if you actually made an ‘X’ in the air, but I don’t know what you were hoping to do with that. See me turn into a pillar of salt or something?” They shook their head again. “I know who you are, you don’t need to introduce yourself in such a monosyllabic way, dear.”

As the questions started coming, Parker couldn’t hide their smirk if they tried. It was entirely too sharp, filled with too-many teeth with too sharp a point on them, but that didn’t matter much. There was the Greedy little beastie she’d expected. “Why do you have to look like me or I like you? Can’t we all look like the Big Man upstairs? You could pick us up by smell, though dear. Sulfur and woodsmoke tends to hang pretty heavily around us. You sure I can’t interest you in a drink?”

His nose scrunched up in a huffy pout before he took his time crossing himself, stopping at every point of the “t“ to drive home the offense he took. He ended the charade with another “X” in the air, this time larger and more dramatic- somehow. “Black smoke. Not salt,” he quipped, “A circle of salt keeps you away, doesn’t it? Unless that pillar is the loot I get to collect after banishing you.” He stuck out his tongue in defiance before promptly popping it back in with a confused look, unsure who exactly he was trying to defy, “I don’t believe in god. Before you say that the existence of you proves the existence of something larger, it does not. I refuse to believe that a demon and an angel are a package deal. I have yet to meet an angel, but many demons- Or. Well. Demon adjacent.” He placed his elbows on the bar and his chin in his hands, refusing the repeated drink offer with a bratty snarl.

“I’m not comfortable with assuming that you’re keen on me only asking questions. You mentioned something about crossroads. So, you probably want something in return. Please tell me what that is before I continue to pick your brain,” he batted his eyelashes, “And if you don’t mind, what is a crossroads demon?”

[r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t]

Empty curses fell on late afternoon Vegas traffic, clunking against the passing cars with a metallic thud. Waiting was good for thinking but Elias wanted to do anything but that. Mortals were blessed with the power of thought but his greedy little hands took far more than their fill, and that blessing soon became a curse. A curse that wrapped and wrapped around his throat, choking the last bit of life out of him. Alas, music was too loud and all he could hear was the shrill taunting behind each lyric, so he was left staring at the pitiful looking boy in the rearview mirror. Tight air-dried curls bounced with each press of the break as tired eyes battled the setting sun, knowing the fight ahead far too well- a battle against sleepless nights and waves of exhaustion. 

When the headlights of his car clicked off the sharp lines of the house in front of him were engulfed in a blurry sort of darkness. The type of darkness that colored Elias’ vision of the orator, a stranger and an unsolvable puzzle. No matter the way he pushed nor turned the pieces just wouldn’t click into place. As he pulled himself out of the seat- which took far more effort than it should have, the last few days having clearly depleted his battery- he worried his bottom lip, chewing holes through the mental conversations he had been practicing. He was sure there would be hundreds of hunter verbal landmines littered throughout their talk, and he was positive that he would be dragged through each and every one no matter how careful he attempted to be. 

Wincing with every creak of the wooden steps he met Cam’s stare with a weak sigh. At the top he peaked at the man through his eyelashes and paused, familiarity slamming hard against his chest. “Clara! It’s far too hot to be sitting out here. Get inside- Oh, don’t you raise that knife at me.”

Softly, he sat on the edge of the empty Adirondack chair before quickly deciding that any hesitancy would only be a waste of energy and he slid back comfortably. He felt like a child in a place that was far too big for him and the eagerness to explore was slowly fading, “I apologize. I stopped to check on Jo. She’s doing fine- Well. As fine as can be expected due to the circumstances,” he reached down to run a finger against the dull edge of the blade between them, gaze locked on the twinkle of Vegas in the distance. Promise. He liked that word, although easily abused. “What I had to say can wait. There’s something more important that should be addressed. You were right- are right, and I fought you because I wanted to be stronger than I was-am. But that’s not an excuse for the way I’ve been acting. I’ve hurt you, I’ve hurt a lot of people, and I’ve put people I care about in danger. I’m the reason that Austin is gone, I’m one of the reasons why Connor is hurt, I’m the reason why Esme is upset, and I’m one of the reasons why you’re upset. And that’s not okay. That’s not what a friend does-should do. I really fucking screwed up. I can’t change what I did but I can change what I do in the future. If you think it’s a good idea to keep me around after all of this.” For a moment he let a silence hang over them, taking cover in the quiet as he tried to recharge- tried to rid himself of the tremble in his word, “Sorry. That was a lot all at once. But, I’m also sorry that I reminded you of something that hurt.”

The porch, like most of the place - that half-looted workshop and a few picked over shelves aside - was just as his mother’d left it, as it was all his life. Everything in its place: his parents’ weather-greyed Adirondack chairs, that can of butts and ashes between, the wide-open view across the juniper and pinyon, down to the distant road and the glow of the city. No wonder this’d been their spot. Like they were watching over things. 

The driveway, for instance. All of it, rolling down the slope, switchbacked and winding for plenty of opportunity to take a shot or a few without losing your line of sight to the trees or scrub. Wasn’t so haphazard as it seemed, that tumble-down farmstead landscaping. Easy to underestimate, though. 

Like the not-quite-surprise guest coming up through the dusk-light, now. Cam had recognized the car, through the scope; from before, that first time they’d met. Buzzed through the gate, Elias had done the drive as night crept down the hills. His headlights were the brightest thing ‘til Vegas, now. And then those, too, were gone, leaving them in the gathering gloom with the tick of the cooling engine and the creak of the stairs for company. Everybody else was busy with enough, inside. They’d have a minute. 

Bullshit. When’d you last have time, for me?

When’d you last do anything with my time but piss and moan about how I’m your biggest goddamn problem? Jesus, Mal…

His jaw twitched, and his stare stayed dead-on the Aware coming up the steps. He’d already set aside the machete he’d been sharpening with the rest, on the narrow table between those chairs. For later. Hands free, Cam took up his matches, his cigarettes. Had one lit as Elias cleared the last stair. He waved the match out, flicked it into the can. And tried, through his tired as hell eyes, to see what was, not what’d been. “Well. Here you are.” Finally. Hart’d probably been doing something worthwhile; benefit of the doubt. Cam had that much in him, to give. Precious little else - even anger, by now. “You wanted to talk? Talk. About as safe a place to do so as you can get, these days. Promise.” An after-thought, that. But one that seemed worth offering. Given. 

@r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t​

[r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t]

desertsiren​:

r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t​:

Oliver thought he would simply pass away when cacophonous footsteps came towards him and shoes stopped in his field of vision. A confused hum slipped from his throat as he tried to parse through the words and the ringing, world still spinning around him. He flinched from the contact, baring his teeth before he saw the familiar face. A whimper followed as he tilted his head back into the hands, mind racing to figure out why Elias was here, why he was helping.

Soft pressure tilted his chin up, and he found himself getting caught in the wave of the other’s breath. In and out like the tide, a wind so much softer than he ever felt at sea. His eyes scrunched shut as warm palms semi-sealed over his ears, a confused “What…” escaping him before a soft poke at the back of his head popped his eyes back open. The two feelings were so distinct that he almost felt as if they were disconnected.

He couldn’t tell which part of the actions were helping, or if the episode was simply wearing off on its own, but the background and people were slowing down and moving in fewer directions. “How do you know this?” he tried to say, but it felt like the words were coming out slightly wrong.

The rest of his senses were starting to return to baseline in turn, and he caught the smell of buttery sugar - though he couldn’t tell where from. “So sweet,” he mumbled as his eyes fell closed again. “Thank you.” It felt strange to say to someone who appeared to have no magic of his own regardless of his impressive heritage. Or at least to do it in person. For some reason it seemed an easier thing to say through writing.

His expression softened as he sighed out all the lingering anxiety, hands falling from the other’s cheeks to rest gently on their shoulders. No longer worried yet still vigilant he watched Oliver’s breathing carefully, not exactly sure what differences to look for in a siren, but confident enough to believe that he would probably spot them. He shifted slightly, body acting as a barrier from the landlubbers who looked on and laughed. For a moment he let the anger win and shot a scowl over his shoulder at a group of drunken wanderers; and for a moment he felt powerful watching them scurry away with their tails between their legs. 

Speech was slurred but that was to be assumed, the fact that Oliver was speaking was a clear sign of improvement. His first siren patient- illegal street doctoring- and everything seemed to be going swimmingly. All puns intended. “Took enough months of med school to pick something up. But this. This was from Google.” He plucked a half-filled water bottle from the cluttered bag lazily flung over his shoulder, he would have to tidy that up when he wasn’t in the middle of a crisis. But god knows when that would be. “There’s no need to thank me. I shouldn’t have been the only one to offer you help. You deserve care as much as anyone else does- Now sip, slowly.” He unscrewed the plastic cap and pressed it against the other’s lips, tipping it ever so slightly.

When Oliver had his fill Elias plopped himself down beside him, a small hand pressing firm to the siren’s back rubbing comforting circles. “Tell me when you’re ready. And only then. What happened? I haven’t seen a vertigo attack like this in someone who looks so healthy.”

[r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t]

Elias flit around like a busy little bee buzzing with anxious excitement. The world around him moved too slow, he needed to be faster faster FASTER if he wanted everything to be perfect- and he needed everything to be perfect. He had never done anything like this before- party planning for a fairy- and he was beyond worried that it would show. Decorations and entertainment were booked and bought in a day as he spent a week of sleepless nights planning. It looked nice, sure, the fresh bloom of flowers coloring the scenery but how would it play out? He had always been uncomfortable with the unknown.

He perked up at the sound of Esme’s voice as he was perfectly positioning the last easel, not directly facing the sun and with a view of the flowers. “I- Of course, give me a moment please,” he brushed off the nonexistent dirt on his pants- more of a comforting motion than anything- and plopped down on the grass. He was enveloped in a soft warmth as his eyes slowly closed, finally releasing the breath he had been holding for a long while.

“You have no need to thank me. You are my friend, you’re someone I care deeply about. It’s only natural that I try my hardest to make you happy,” he sighed “I’m…confused. A bit afraid. A bit excited. A lot has happened recently, but I haven’t had time to process it. What matters to me now is making sure that you and Connor safely do your bindings- and providing a bit of fun, a bit of refuge in the meantime.” He tipped his head onto Esme’s shoulder, “I have…so many questions but I have quickly learned that curiosity is dangerous. Curious things we mortals.”

･ﾟ* @r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t​​​​

Esmeray hadn’t seen much of the little duckling since returning to this realm. They’d exchanged a plethora of messages between then and now, emotionally charged and filled with event-focused pragmatisms, but nothing face to face. She’d spent the majority of the week sequestered in Connor’s bedroom ( theirs now, though she was still getting used to the change ), having made a nest of duvets and pillows so she could wallow in her own self-pity.

All the same, sitting in the sun again felt good— the Seelie were like sunflowers in that way, flourishing under the light of the sun. Moreover it felt good to see the human again, to spend some time with him after everything.

The party-goers had yet to arrive and the faerie thought there was no better moment than this one to have a sit-down with Elias. She’d wanted to thank him for all he’d done, for all the love and care he’d shown her even when she tried to push him away. As much as Esmeray wanted to protect him and everyone else from herself, they were a stubborn group, steadfast in their desire to remain a part of her life. She’d commend them for it once she’d extinguished the lingering flames of frustration. 

“Duckling, do the comings in the closenesses,” she starts, waving him over and into her space, “my selves are doing the wishings of providing the many and all the thank yous…in the additionals of doing the askings of your selves.” Everyone had been focusing on her and her well being and Esme just needed a reprieve from it all; she’d wanted a taste of that normalcy again.

[r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t]

In his months of research (see: stalking) Elias had never set foot in The Demon’s Cradle. He would purposefully pass it on the street trying to sneak a suspicious look through the windows, but he had thought for sure that a demon would never be so egotistical to display their existence to the public. Or perhaps, he thought it was too on the nose and was afraid to enter the den of evil.

But now, with the position he found himself in- in the middle of a supernatural shitshow- it didn’t exactly matter. Though, he heeded the advice of some very prickly people and did his due diligence before meeting the imp in person. Equipped with holy water and a cross he was ready to be an extra in the movie Exorcist but unsure whether the tale held any truth.

“No thank you. No drinks. Simply here to talk,” he pantomimed an ‘X’ in the air with a shake of his head. “Elias,” he pressed a finger to his chest, “And you’re Parker? You wanted to see me because I’m weird and I wanted to see you because I have questions.” A pause, “How would someone tell if another was a demon? Do you take a mortal form or do we take yours?”

where: The Demon’s Cradle

with: anyone interested!

Ah, the smell of desire and desperation. It was almost enough to warm Parker’s heart, but if all this time in the middle of a desert hadn’t done it, they were starting to think even a tantalizing brush of their most favorite of sins wasn’t going to do it either. Which was fine. What was a small brush of homesickness when given the greatest playground an Imp could have?

She was in rare form tonight, though if she measured success solely based off of the tips, deals, and information her little greedy heart commanded from those she dealt with, there would be no difference, only a sweeping tale of success and a blur of time. Tonight, however, had seen fit to grant her an unusual number of toys. Wind them up and watch them go, where they’ll stop only Parker will know!

Stopping in front of one of the souls they were most excited to see, purely for the opportunity of success they provided, she smiled with all her teeth. “Hey little bug, first drink’s on the house. What brings you to the nursery of greed and the crib of sin and how can I help with it?”

[r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t]

pactbearer​:

r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t​:

hardly a moment passes after elias’ fist meets her door before evie’s yanking it open, glaring up at him in a look that’s all heat, no actual fire. “wow, someone’s being generous tonight. y’know, just for that i’m not going to tell you what i am. you can sit and stew in your own guesses and i’m going to watch it eat away at you and laugh. for all you know i could be bigfoot. what would you do then, huh? what would you do if i were the most famous cryptid in north america?”

bantering with elias is familiar during a week where little else has been, and it’s nice to not have to deal with another one of the many ongoing emotional crises that seem to have been plaguing every single inhabitant of the midnight underground at the same time recently. “so, are we walking to one of the closer dairy queens or are we driving?”

He snorts, shoulders visibly relaxing upon hearing her voice- the familiarity of it calming amongst the waves of chaos- “Turn you in. The money I would get in return would be enormous. Mothman would be next,” he quipped as he linked their arms together and tugged her out of the doorway, “I have some few educated guesses. The devil being one-” he eyed her suspiciously waiting for any micro-indication that he was correct. When he was met with continued fake malice he visibly deflated, “Dragon being the other. Would explain why you suddenly became more,” he waived a hand in the air “Spicy.” 

He took the change of topic as the end of that conversation, mentally making note to bring it up later when Evie was full of overpriced ice-cream. “Walking. I wouldn’t dare brave the strip, god knows we don’t need the added stress.” The last few days had been hell on earth- and the fey realm- and Elias knew that if he was feeling burnt out then someone who fully understood the repercussions must have been feeling worse. Briefly he intertwined their fingers and squeezed her hand twice, some odd act of comfort he had picked up in college, “How are you? Masking the feelings with marriage preparations is simply delaying the inevitable. Talk. Tell me.”

[r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t]

It was amusing how easily a day at work could spiral into absolute chaos, or it WOULD be amusing if Elias was not the one given a mop and bucket to clean up the shit that hit the metaphorical fan. Though that was the curse of customer service, and he had to be happy to get down on his hands and knees and scrub. It wasn’t particularly bad today- there had been a myriad of worse encounters before- just a handful of difficult customers and restocking that needed to be done, it was simply the combination of work and the tornado he lovingly referred to as his home life that had every bone in his body aching. 

He was relieved to be off, and then he remembered a certain someone would be lazing around on the couch using his subscription services and he wasn’t quite sure what he felt, it was an odd feeling to place. With a metallic thunk he unlocked the door and let every bit of tension slide off of his body- including his bag that landed with a hard thump on the wood floor. He lazily looked over to the phoenix perched comfortably on his couch and breathed an annoyed sigh through his nose, shaking his head in a disapproval that Tomás couldn’t see before promptly starting dinner. He replied with a tired grunt as he placed the steak into a well-seasoned pan, the carrots in the oven, and the potatoes onto a little grill he had gotten himself for christmas the year before. 

He plopped down on the couch with a yawn- that sounded more like a weak cry, “It was fine. Solved. What is your lazy ass doing here? What got you all hot and bothered, in the boring way?”

@r3m3mb3r-m3-n0t​

Being at Elias’ apartment without Elias present is boring as hell. All Tomás has is the trusty television and its many channels, through which he’s currently surfing. Nothing stays on for very long. Every program he sees just cements his sudden but firm opinion that cable television is spiraling downward.

Who even cares about flipping properties?

Switching over to Netflix, he spends a few minutes reading through various summaries. He doesn’t get very far before he hears the door to the apartment opening. Despite this being the very thing he wanted, — see: Elias’ arrival — he doesn’t look away from the television as he reads the synopsis of some avant-garde fantasy film.

“Hey,” he calls out in greeting, “How’d the bookmark thing go? Did the store fall apart around you guys or something?”