#easthallow

[alwaysonthemend]

Part II: To Strange Horizons

Word Count: 3715

Warnings: Cussing / allusions to violence

A/N: Hello all! Just a heads up that this chapter is just a little bit shorter than the last one but that's just because it's setting up a lot of stuff that's going to be happening in chapter 3. Hope ya'll enjoy!

:¨·.·¨:☾☆༺ 𓆩⚔︎𓆪 ༻☆☽:¨·.·¨:

The ship is a beautiful thing – far better taken care of than any of the ships that I had seen grace the ports of Easthallow before. It's not an overly large ship, though it is most definitely large enough to be a threat to most merchant ships that sail these waters. It’s painted black and decorated with white embellishments, with “Starcatcher” emblazoned proudly on its side. I’ve never seen anything like it before, and my steps slow to a stop as we approach. Though night has descended upon us, the full moon casts just enough light for me to stand in awe of the magnificent ship. 

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Jacob asks, looking at me with a proud glint in his eye. 

Slinging my pack higher on my shoulder, I nod. 

“I’ve never seen a ship like it before.” 

“Aye, I reckon not many come through here with such a ship. She’s a galleon.” He says glancing over his shoulder and beckoning for me to follow him. 

Tearing my eyes away from the ship, I hasten my steps to catch up with him. 

“She can reach up to eight knots. That’s almost 140 miles a day.”

He speaks with pride, and despite having never been acutely interested in ships, I want him to tell me more. His voice is so different as he speaks of the Starcatcher, and I wish desperately that this kinder tone would never leave him. Gone is the brooding sadness and barely contained rage, replaced instead with a fondness and pride that makes him seem so much softer than he had before. 

“She's gorgeous.” I tell him, and his lips turn upwards in a barely there smile. It’s the most genuine expression I think I have received from him yet. I want more than anything to see what his real smile looks like.

“Why did you name her Starcatcher?” 

No sooner had the question left my mouth, the expression dropped from his face. Like watching a mask slip into place, his face contorts into a scowl. 

“I was not the one who named her.” Is all he says before turning on his heel and marching into the ship. 

His shifts in mood threaten to give  me whiplash as I silently follow behind him, cursing myself for asking. 

– 

All eyes turn to us as soon as we step onto the deck. I pull my pack tighter to myself, wishing to shrink away from their peering eyes. Some 25 men make up his crew in total, and not a single one of them carries an expression that is in any way welcoming. Some look on in confusion while some cannot seem to contain their scowl as they regard me. Each man looks to be no older than 30, though they all carry a weight to their shoulders that makes them seem older somehow. 

“What the fuck, Jacob?” The curly headed man from before exclaims, rising from where he’d been leaning against the foremast and I gasp at his use of profanity. Never have I heard a man say such crude language before.

The other men mutter amongst themselves, casting looks towards myself and Jacob. 

“Sit down, Joshua.” Jacob orders, and Joshua’s eyes blaze at the command. He takes a step back, but does not sit. “You, Samuel, and Daniel stay. The rest of you,” Jacob’s eyes scan the other men, “find somewhere else to be.” 

“Captain, respectfully-” One man begins, but Jacob is swift to cut him off. 

“Trust that I will make sure that you all are informed of what you need to be. We need a moment alone.” 

The authority in his tone makes a shiver run up my spine. The rest of his crew rises and cast their eyes downwards at Jacob’s feet as they pass – each seemingly too afraid to meet his stone-cold gaze. They travel in single file to the hatch, climbing downwards into the darkness below. 

As soon as the hatch door closes, Jacob grips my wrist and tugs me forward, pushing me towards a wooden crate sitting by the foremast at Joshua’s side. 

“Sit.” He orders, and I do so without resistance. 

“Well?” The long-haired man asks, crossing his arms over his chest and turning to Jacob. 

“I found them. But they’re encoded. She’s the only one left who knows how to read them.” Jacob explains. He’s standing with his legs parted and chin high – a boastful position that oozes authority, despite being shorter than the long-haired man. 

“Could she not decode them now?” The fourth man asks, breaking his silence for the first time. He’s got darker features than the other three men, with black curly hair that frames his strong jawline. 

“She said-” 

“It will take time to decode them.” I interrupt the Captain, sitting up straighter as each of their gazes falls onto me. “I can speak for myself, thank you.” 

The long-haired man chuckles softly under his breath, earning himself a glare from Jacob. He silences himself quickly.  

“It has been a long time since I practised these symbols, and each set is slightly different from the others.” 

“And how exactly do we know that we can trust you, lass?” Joshua asks with a tilt of his head. He’s smiling, and the expression reminds me so suddenly of Jacob that I assume they must be related somehow.  

“We don’t.” The long-haired man mutters, leaning over towards the dark haired man as he speaks. 

“Samuel, enough.” Jacob cuts in. “She’s all we have. There are no Calloways left that could decode these symbols. She’s the last one.” 

Samuel raises his hands in a placating manner, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Just asking, brother. Just asking. If she truly is the only one, then trust her we must, I suppose.” 

The Captain nods at him solemnly. 

“I don’t like it.” Joshua announces, crouching down before me so that we’re eye to eye. “You know what they always say…” He starts, grinning wickedly as he extends his hand to brush my cheek with his fingertips. “Never trust a fucking Calloway.’’

I jerk my head away from his touch, fear gripping me as he stares. His smile seems genuine and yet I see no kindness behind his eyes. It’s unsettling. 

“Calloway I may be,” I start, narrowing my eyes at him in what I hope is a menacing expression,  “but I would appreciate you stepping away from me.” The demand is overshadowed by the shake in my voice but I do not drop his gaze. Somehow, I feel as if looking away first would be a victory for him. 

“Joshua…” Jacob begins, but he only shrugs as he rises from his squatted position. 

“Kitten's got claws, it seems.” He says snidely, winking at me as he straightens himself. 

“Daniel?” Jacob asks, turning to the dark-haired man. “You’ve not said anything.”

Daniel only hums quietly, touching his forefinger to his chin as if in thought. 

“We don’t really have much of a choice, do we?” 

They are all silent for a long moment and a shiver runs through me as I realize that my fate lies solely in the hands of these strange men.

“That’s settled then.” Jacob nods, wringing his hands together as he appraises me. “Take her to my quarters. She can sleep there for now.” 

With that, Jacob turns on his heel and makes his way to the bow. His long coat billows behind him as he walks and I take it that I will most likely not see him again tonight. 

Samuel and Daniel both turn their gazes back towards me, but Joshua’s eyes stay trained on Jacob’s back. His expression is one of pain – the depth of which I can scarcely imagine. 

“Follow me.” Daniel says, and though his tone is not necessarily amicable, there is far more kindness in his tone compared to the other three.

I rise from my place and follow him down the steep stairs and through the hatch, steadying myself on the rails as we go. Though the November air outside on the deck had been chilled, down here is of a different set: more oppressive, more solid. It has substance. Moist and enveloping, sucking me in and stealing my breath. Already, I miss the clean air of land. 

“Where will the Captain sleep if I am in his quarters?” I ask Daniel, eyes trained on his broad shoulders as we walk. 

“He rarely sleeps down here, lass. If he sleeps at all.” 

I nod, his response only arising more questions than answers. I say no more.

– 

His quarters are not what I had expected them to be – almost homey in comparison to the rest of the ship. A lit lantern sits on the desk in the corner, casting the room in a warm light. His bed is perfectly made, looking almost completely untouched save for the rumpled covers at the foot, indicating that he must have sat down there recently. 

“What’s your name, lass?” Daniel asks me as I step through the threshold. 

“Y/n.” 

He just nods, staring at me for a long moment. His gaze is piercing, yet I do not feel uncomfortable from it. 

“Thank you for agreeing to this, Y/n. Though it is not my place to tell you why translating those notes is important to him, just know that you are instrumental in retrieving something very important to him – to all of us, really.”

I do not know how to answer him. I only give him a terse smile as I place my pack on the Captain’s bed. 

“I’ll take my leave now.” 

“Thank you, Daniel.” I hope that he knows that I mean it.

Once the door closes behind him, I take a moment to observe the room closer. His desk is cluttered – scribbled notes and maps littering the surface. Gingerly, I step forward to examine them. I sort through each one slowly, feeling like a child doing something she knows she’s not supposed to. Most of the notes are nonsense to me – sea-faring talk that I do not understand the meaning of. 

But it’s not those that catch my eye. Amongst the scribbles, there lies a few metered verses scrawled into the margins of the pages. 

Poems. 

Few of them finished and most covered in crossed out words, but poems nonetheless. As I glance over them, I cannot help but to admire the lines. The Captain has a way with words. 

The thought of him sitting alone here, bent over a piece of paper and scrawling these verses makes warmth spark to light in my belly – despite the fact that they are not happy verses. Yet their sorrow carries beauty. Wistful lamentations of being lost at sea – torn apart and floating aimlessly through the frothy depths. Reading them feels like the deepest invasion of privacy and I tear my eyes away from them. 

There is one painting sitting framed on his desk. A woman – with beautiful dark skin and long hair. I pick up the frame, admiring her closer. Though it is only a painting, I cannot help but stand in awe at her beauty. My mind spins with possibilities of who she might be. A lover, surely. An odd feeling takes root in my sternum at the thought, though I cannot begin to explain why. Turning the frame over, I see no markings that give any indication as to who the woman is or when the painting was done. 

A knock at the door startles me, and I quickly place the frame back into its spot. I step away from the desk, once again feeling as though I am not supposed to be in here. 

The door opens before I can invite the intruder in and I bristle as Joshua strides into the room, pointedly closing the door behind him. The dim light of the lantern casts shadows across his sharp jawline and his white teeth almost glow in the darkness. There is something about him… an aura that sets me on edge. He’s like the clouds that cover the sky before a heavy storm – looming menacingly on the horizon. I feel as though he might snap any moment, pulling me into the fray alongside him. 

“What do you want?” I ask, cursing how meek my voice sounds. 

“Sit.” He orders, his voice silky smooth as he points towards the end of the Captain’s bed. 

I huff a breath as I follow his command. 

“I am only going to say this one time, lass.” He mutters, stepping in close to me and leaning downwards – so close that I can feel his hot breath on my face. “Breathe a word of what I am about to say to you to anyone, and there will be Hell to pay. Do you understand?” 

I purse my lips and do not give him an answer, but he seems to take my silence as answer enough. 

“My brother… he’s been through much. And the thing he seeks means more to him than the very air he breathes.” His voice is low, almost a whisper as he speaks. “If for some reason he does not succeed, he will not survive it.”

I open my mouth – intent on demanding answers as to what this quest of his must be but he silences me with a piercing look. 

“I will not tell you what it is that he seeks. It is not your place to know. I simply need you to understand something.” 

Already, I grow tired of the riddles. But yet… I understand that I am not yet owed any explanation. They do not trust me – nor I them. Yet, here I am on their ship, abandoning everything that I know for the sake of helping a pirate who threatened my life. It sounds so absurd I almost laugh out loud. 

“And what exactly do you need me to know?”

“If the reason that he does not succeed is you… understand that I will kill you. Slowly. Painfully. In all the ways that I know hurt the most. I have lost more than you could ever even dream of, and I will not lose him too.” 

The aggression of his earlier tone gives way to a deep, heart wrenching desperation as he speaks, and I find myself nodding without conscious thought. There is no doubt in my mind now that he and the Captain’s relationship is close – even for siblings. I am struck with a pang of jealousy at the thought of someone loving me that fiercely and, despite the circumstance, I cannot help but admire the intense protectiveness that the man in front of me possesses. 

“I understand.” I whisper, meeting his gaze with as much honesty as I can. “I want to help him. I cannot tell you why, but I know that helping him is what I am meant to do. And I know that the nature of my family name must give you reason to doubt that – but believe me when I tell you that I am not like the rest of my family. I knew few of them, and the ones I did I wish that I had not…” I trail off for a moment, feeling suddenly startled by the honesty of my own words. I had never spoken this out loud to anyone before and here I am, spilling my most personal secrets with a stranger. There is something about Joshua that seems to draw the truth from between my lips unbidden.

“So please see the truth within my words," I continue, my words coming out only just above a whisper, "when I say that I refuse to be anything like them. And I will do anything and everything in my power to help the Captain in his quest – whatever it may be.”

There is no lie as I meet Joshua’s gaze, and somehow I can see that he realises it. 

Joshua nods and for the very first time, his expression is genuine as he regards me. 

“I think we understand each other, then.” He says, straightening up and heading towards the door. 

“I think we do.” 

“Good night, Y/n.” And with that, he’s gone. 

I exhale through my nose, instantly feeling more at ease at his absence. A tentative truce may have occurred between myself and Joshua but I am not fool enough to believe that he really trusts me. I certainly do not fully trust him. 

As the silence of the room surrounds me, a bone-deep weariness overtakes me – the emotional turbulence of the day finally catching up to me. I eye my pack, debating on whether or not I have the energy to pull out those folded pages within and begin the painstaking task of translating them. Pressing as the matter may be, my vision is already swimming and the thought of trying to decipher the codes sounds near impossible at the moment. It would be of no real use to attempt it now. 

Instead, I place my pack on the floor and pull the covers back, slipping into the beckoning warmth of the bed. Immediately, my senses are flooded with his smell – sweet whiskey, sweat, and the smell of salt all mixed together with his natural musk. I inhale deeply as I settle in, closing my eyes against the dim glow of the lantern, now only just barely still burning. It doesn’t take long for the gentle rock of the boat to lull me into sleep. 

:¨·.·¨:☾☆༺ 𓆩⚔︎𓆪 ༻☆☽:¨·.·¨:

Joshua POV 

Jacob has not moved by the time I ascend to the deck again. He stands at the bow, looking out into the dark waters.

Even from afar, his pain radiates from him like a black smoke, sputtering out of his very pores and coating myself and him with its inky substance, threatening to choke us both. I wish desperately that I could take it from him. 

“She’s settled, I think.” I speak into the silence, coming to stand just behind him. 

“Thank you.”

He makes no move to turn around as he speaks and the distance between us has never felt more cavernous. I ache to reach out and touch him… to feel the warmth of him as some sort of proof that he’s still alive and not made of cold stone. 

“Do you really think those notes are the key to all of this?” 

Still, he does not even look at me.

“They will at least give me some sort of inkling as to whatever it is that I will be walking into.” 

“We.” I remind him, pointedly taking a step closer so that our shoulders are almost touching. His gaze remains fixed upon the water, watching how the moon’s reflection dances with the waves. 

“There is no telling the danger that lies in waiting. I cannot ask you to follow me. Any of you.” 

“Then it is a good thing that you do not have to ask.” I grip his shoulder, willing him silently to at least look at me as I speak. He does not, instead simply shrugging his shoulder to detach himself from my grip. 

He only hums in response and I cannot stop the sigh that escapes me. This is not the first time that we have had this discussion – nor will it be the last. But I will sooner throw myself overboard than allow him to do this alone. 

“Jack said that we will need to stop for provisions.” 

Jacob nods. 

“We will stop at Nassau, then. Make a quick stop there for rest and supplies before setting out.”

I roll my eyes, groaning at the suggestion. 

“Must you always choose the most vile of places, brother mine? I can already smell the shit and piss from here.” 

At last, Jacob turns to look at me and he chuckles lightly – and the sound makes my entire body thrum with warmth. I have not heard him laugh in a very long time.

“That’s our own people that you’re speaking about, Joshua.” He says with a small grin.

“And I’m sure Hornigold will be oh so pleased to see you again.” 

Jacob nods. 

“If he sees me. Though the hope is that he is none the wiser that we are there.”

“And if he does find out?” 

“Then he will just have to get over himself.”

We are both silent for a moment and it feels, briefly, like everything is back to normal… like none of it happened. I wish I could make it so. There are so many things that I wish we all had done differently. 

I shake my head. It does no good now to dwell on the past. 

“Try and get some sleep tonight, Jacob. I know I’m the prettier twin anyway... but you look like shit.” 

Jacob exhales a laugh, narrowing his eyes at me. At first, I think he might send a jab back at me – a playful insult to level the playing field. It’s what the old Jacob would have done. But he doesn’t. It’s only another painful reminder that the Jacob I once knew is long gone.  

“I’ll try.” He says, and that’s the closest he’s come to actually admitting that he hasn’t been sleeping well – a fact which we are all aware of, yet too afraid to mention to his face. The men fear him now – a fact that pains me beyond measure. The man standing in front of me... I hardly recognize him anymore.

“My door is always unlocked.” My words slip out unbidden. It’s silly – the prospect of two grown men sharing a bed. But I won’t retract the offer. We used to do it when we were young… when one of us needed comfort or had a bad dream. Surely, after everything, no one could fault either of us for seeking out some extra comfort. Though undoubtedly, he will not take it.

“I know.” Jacob turns back around, and I can see in his posture the silent dismissal. Though my heart aches as I make my leave, I am comforted slightly in the knowledge that he had laughed – it was small, more of an exhale really, but he had laughed. As minuscule of a victory it may be, it is a victory still. A sign that the real Jacob is still in there somewhere – just hidden away from us. I can only pray that he will return to us. If this mission of his fails… I can only fear the worst.

:¨·.·¨:☾☆༺ 𓆩⚔︎𓆪 ༻☆☽:¨·.·¨:

Part III

Mirror of the Damned taglist:

@jakeyt @sacredjake @carbondancingthroughtime @literal-dead-leaf @sinarainbows @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @aflame4goinghome @writingcold @ignite-my-fire @mysticalstarcatcher @brinlygvf @mackalah @vanfleeter @chewbeka22 @starcatcherchords @char289 @amygvf13 @way-to-go-lad @jaketlove

[draiochtnamara]

myyyyy favorite lyn writing i’ve ever done, this is fairly old so probably can fix it up but whatever.

the evil entity that lives in ur town in the woods is always calling u yadda yadda yadda and ur connected to it or. whatever

You’ve woken up here before, though it’s been awhile. It’s different than you remember, but familiar. Less unkempt, more overgrown than the last time. You’re not scared of this place anymore, in fact, you think you might be excited to be here.

Maybe it’s growing older, because when you were younger this place felt less inviting even though, technically, it was scarier now. You push your way through the trees and the branches and the overgrown grass, until you arrive at the clearing.

When you were a girl, and you dreamt of here, you would sit and cry and cry and cry once you got there. You would never make it any further, you could never find your way out, and there would never be anyone there for you. No one would find you. Just left there until you drowned in your own sadness.

But this time…

“Daddy..?”

You almost don’t want to take another step forward, you remember how in dreams people never look the same, you try to get a clear look at their face and it’s. Not right. It’s blurry. It’s. Off. You don’t want that.

But your body is steps ahead of your brain, and you run towards him and hold on so tight.

“I’ve been waiting, I had a feeling you would wake up soon.”

You pull away, and you look up. Your father’s face, clear as day. Him. Not a dream, not an apparition, not a trick. Real. In front of you. “Have you been here all this time?”

He shakes his head, “it’s the first time I’ve been here, but I know it’s not your first time here.”

You try to remember the last time you were here. Really here. Not dreamt about it, but really, truly here. Maybe right after he died? But you didn’t go any further, didn’t make it to the clearing, you hadn’t noticed the changes. You just weren’t ready to wake up yet. But before then?

“When we first moved to Easthallow,” you said, remembering the last time you truly remembered being here.

And then out of the corner of your eye you notice it, something you never noticed before. On the other side of the clearing, an opening. It was calling you, and you couldn’t resist. You slowly start stepping towards it, but you can’t move any further.

Your father’s hand holds on tightly to yours, like when you were a child in the grocery store trying to run away to go grab candy. Like you were in trouble. Being told to stay put.

“That’s a rabbit hole you shouldn’t go down, Alice.”

You try not to falter at this, because you know your purpose is down that rabbit hole. Sentiment will get you nowhere. You know at this moment that this is definitely more than a dream, this is your father speaking to you. You’re defiant, and just like every other time he called you Alice, it makes you want to be more so.

You tug your hand, but he won’t let go. He won’t break.

You start to cry, “please, I have to go. I have to. Something is waiting for me over there. I can feel it. It needs my help.”

And you fall down to your knees, unable to go any further than you’ve ever been able to here. You want to go to what’s calling you, you want to be alone here so that you can.

But just like every other time you wake up here, you’ll just cry and cry until your own sadness drowns you again.

[aphelionrpbuzz]

Welcome to Alder Bay, Washington

Alder Bay, Washington is like many other western coastal cities that sprung up around the late 1800’s. To this day, signs of the city’s early heritage are fiercely protected. Despite being a city of over 150,000 people, there remains an aura of the old bones of the area. Many of the original buildings remain in the downtown area, and the historical society has made it their sole mission to remember the heritage of the area. 

Within the city, many things evolved much like it has anywhere else. Technology advanced throughout the centuries, though magic has influenced things quite heavily. The natural branch of magic has helped to boost the transportation in Alder Bay, making travel extremely efficient and comfortable, thanks to the wards and seals put in place by witches over the years. 

Throughout the city there are many forms of public transit available, with the most prolific being their magnetic light rails. With the gift of space-time seals, this means travel throughout the city limits is done mostly through magical means and has rendered automobiles obsolete and mostly unnecessary. There are still a few mundanes that keep with their old habits, choosing to have their own car or take the light rail.  

Magic Row

Tucked deep within the center of the downtown area lies Magic Row. Many businesses and shops can be found here, especially the magical ones. A vampire might find an amulet for daytime walking, or mundane might come to find enchanted items that help with their daily life. Werewolves might come looking for something to help their headaches, or to keep them sane during the full moon. There are many different shops, and most people can find whatever they’re looking for here. 

Next to the shops, the town hall as well as the courthouse can be found here as well. The area is neat and orderly, with every hedge and tree trimmed to look as neat as possible. Some of the buildings harken back to their roots within the architecture, and even the newer buildings hold that inspiration. 

Hidden from the prying eye of the general public lies a secret business run under the table. There is one business, [name here], that offers vampires a place to relax and have a good time without judgment from the rest of the world. Hidden in the basement sits one of the only public blood dens available within the city limits, open to both clients as well as new employees. 

Easthallow

Easthallow sits on the edge of the more upscale housing areas in the city. This neighborhood features pristine lawns, multi-million dollar estates, and prestigious neighbors, all flocking to the center point of the neighborhood - the Alder Bay Community College. The college welcomes all sorts, even including several magical courses for those so inclined. Not far off lies a botanical garden with various plants and other flora. 

Peppered throughout the botanical garden lies a few sitting areas. In the center lies a park, open to anyone that wants to sit and enjoy nature for a while. The flora within the gardens and the park are lush and green, sustained by magical means. Whimsical fairy lights float all around, giving the whole scene a surreal feeling.

Blightwood

Toward the outskirts of the city lies Blightwood, an area that seems a bit more run down and unkempt than the rest of the city. An air of foreboding floats through Blightwood for anyone who knows that this patch of the city belongs to the wolves. Long ago, the werewolves claimed this part of the city as their own and frowned upon any intruders. 

The wolves have divided the land amongst themselves, each pack carving out their own sections and protecting them fiercely. Blightwood drew in the wolves, both new and old, thanks to the Olympic National Forest that lies nearly in their backyard. It’s said if anyone ventures into the area after dark, they can hear howling and other noises from the shadows. 

Willowsdale

Those who find Easthallow too high scale, and Blightwood too rough and tumble for themselves might look at Willowsdale as the best place to be. Many of the middle class have settled into this part of the city, giving it a more comfortable feel. There are a few shops scattered throughout the comfortable suburbia that sits close to the outskirts. 

One of the most popular beaches in the city can be found here as well, along with a pier that is a popular place to spend time in the warm, sunny summers. Many come here to fish off the pier year round and kids are often found trying to sneak treats and candies from the stalls. Overall, Willowsdale is your typical family friendly suburb if you ignore the coming and goings of vampires who are free to move around now that the sun’s set.

Storms Bluff

Storms Bluff earned its name thanks to its vicinity to the coastline. Many magical users call this little chunk of city their home. Many sea-faring creatures have laid claim here, calling this the ocean’s pearl. Thanks to magic from the witches, many find themselves facing the brunt of a storm along the beach where the bluff meets the water. 

The vicinity to the coastline means city goers don’t have too far to travel to reach the beach. It’s a popular destination for those that want to get away from the heavy bustle of the inner city and enjoy the beautiful landscape of the pacific northwest coastline. It’s the perfect place for a personal walk or even an evening in front of a bonfire with friends. 

North Pass

North Pass is the other end of town, an area that’s nestled up against the Olympic National Forest. Being on the north end, this section remains unclaimed by the wolves, much to the relief of the other residences. The houses in this area of the city are modest but harbor a beautiful architecture that harkens back to this region’s past. 

Due to the outskirts being free of major wolf presence, the edge of the forest offers many hiking trails and other nature excursions for those that enjoy a nice walk in the trees. The wilds aren’t just for the supernatural, after all. One can enjoy trails that go for miles into the wilderness - but be warned. Just because it’s on the north end doesn’t mean it’s free of danger that lurks in the shadows. 

Fernsworth

Fernsworth is the center of the city. Nestled next to Magic Row, this gem of a neighborhood is home to a lot of the smaller businesses not found nestled into the main strip. There are a few local restaurants around, as well as other quaint establishments. Anything that’s not suited for the strip can be found in this area. 

There are a few modest apartment buildings for those who don't want the modern suburban life, but don’t want to quite deal with the constant bustle of Magic Row itself. It’s a trendy neighborhood to live in, especially for young adults who are spreading their wings for the first time. It’s the most artsy neighborhood as well, with many craft shops and family owned bookstores and cafes tucked into hidden nooks.

[reeseweston]

EASTHALLOW | Page | Tag 

A spooky town settled in a dried up lake bed, off the beaten path, idyllic and just this side of wrong; a town built on urban legends and folklore, on nightmares and unease, on one man’s mistakes that trickle through the ages. A small town too caught up in each other’s business to notice what’s rising under their feet. Elijah’s just lucky enough to be at the epicenter.

tags: cryptids, small towns, lgbt+ cast, found family, local legends, sibling rivalry, cults

Request to join the taglist

[reesewestonarchive]

Took a break from smoke last night to write random words from easthallow

[petrichxriii]

Kept standing by the one person he hates the most, should he say thank you?

Maybe he should have stayed in the earth that night.

[easthallow-est-1422]

COMING FALL 2022 ⦬ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴏᴅs

It’s always been quiet in Easthallow. Maybe too quiet. A group of friends band together to uncover the mystery that shrouds their town, and maybe save others from their same fate.

C̴̯͙̹̔O̴̝̭̤͓̒̒̒̔͆M̵̪͆̏̈́̌E̸̲̮͙͙̖̓͑͌ ̶̡̛̐̍Ĉ̵̦͇̱L̴̩̀̈̕Ǫ̵̩̟͎̹̍̅̋͘͠S̷̝̒̏͂́͝Ȇ̷̳̄̿̚͘R̸̼͚̘̝̭͐͑͝,̷̡̙̬͂͌ ̴̡̮̘͇͘͠D̵̯̏͐O̸͚͝Ṋ̵͇͎͍̺͂͒̂'̵͔͔̪͓͖̒̅͛͊̒T̴̳͊̕͠ ̴̲̝̼͓̌Y̴͂͑͌̚ͅÔ̴̲͝Ŭ̸̫͋ ̴̦̝̘̭̳͆͆W̷̬̕A̸̛̛͖̳̗͂͐Ň̴͈̼̈́̌T̷̲͇͕͙͛͆̌͝ ̷̜̜̬͆͂͗̈́̾͜T̵̨̰̽͂͐̕Ö̶̡̪͚́̓̉ ̵̡̞̰͓̖́̾͆͝͠L̶̒̒̅̕͠ͅͅȨ̸͔͊A̶͕̽͋͛Ŕ̷̛͉͈͔̌̓̎͜ͅN̴͇̯̲̲̜̔͘̕ ̵͔͂͐Ṃ̴͙̣̻̓O̴̡̞̩̗̜̍̑̔R̸̦̭͕̤̺͂̎̓̕E̴̢̮͚͗̕?̸̙̟̘̻̘̎͋͘

[porthecrawl-witness]

Asher Dye, the Radical

Age: born November 15, 1754

Height: 5′10″

Appearance: unusually pale...eyes, hair, skin, all of it; burn scars on left side of his upper body and right hand that are often hidden by his hair and gloves; walks with a noticeable limp, though the cause of the injury is unknown to all but a select few.

Birthplace: Porthecrawl-on-Easthallow

Strengths: determination, righteousness

Weaknesses: madness, single-mindedness

Vices: the occult

[mercurial-muses]

If she thought about it too much, she’d cry.

Having spent the first two-thirds of her life in Stormwind and the rest of it either at war or escaping it, Valdyss had never experienced a whole community pull together to do its best. In the days since the protectors’ victory over the witch knight and her evil forces, the people of Autumnhearth and its allies had come out in force to do just that.

For all but the darkest hours of night and early morning, the manor grounds buzzed with activity. Sections of the house that had been tainted and burned by witchfire were being cut away and turned to ash in bonfires fed by rowanwood and stoked with poles tipped in silver. Supplies were coming in by the wagonload as were craftsmen and other volunteers from Easthallow, Crowsfield, and family settlements located everywhere around and between.

Many aided in the repair of the manor, and their numbers were nearly matched by those arriving to offer other support. The injured were receiving around-the-clock care, water containers were filled and refilled, the cooking fires and bonfires were kept burning, and food was made available to keep all of those helpers running just as well.

The mage’s stomach growled. A part of her knew that she’d currently be better served by having a plate in her lap rather than a journal filled with lists, but she pushed that thought away nearly as quickly as it came. Though the work crews were largely self-sufficient, they still ultimately reported to her until the Hallewells returned. So too did the other volunteers turn to her with questions or reassurances. It was a fulfilling position to be in, and one she was so very honored to fill. If there was ever a time to prove to others just how seriously she took her duty, now was the time… and the weight of that was something Val could not escape.

“Hello.”

Valdyss jerked her head up with a surprised yelp and found herself staring at the blonde woman who seemed to move back and forth between the manor’s kitchen and the makeshift infirmary with the consistency of a clock’s pendulum. Her nose twitched at the scent of whatever it was in the small crate the woman supported with both hands.

“Hey,” Val replied, her voice hoarse. “What can I help you with… Eve, right?”

“Close!” the other woman said brightly. “It’s Eavyn.” She cut off the apology she saw coming with one finger held aloft and a shake of her head. “You should hardly be expected to mentally keep track of everyone’s name too.”

Eavyn sat the wooden box down on the hay bale next to Valdyss. As she plucked Val’s journal from her grasp with one hand, she reached inside the crate with the other and presented the mage with a paper-wrapped sandwich, grilled and stuffed with meat and melting cheese. 

“Hey!” Valdyss reached for her lists with her free hand, but found the journal just out of reach. “I need that!”

“And so I’ll give it back in just a minute,” Eavyn replied calmly. “But I first want to point out that you look tired enough to take a bite out of that book by accident if left to chance.”

Val eyed the blonde and, though she gave a frustrated huff first, she did pull back the wrapper and bite into the sandwich. A contented hum filled the silence between the two women a few seconds later.

“There’s a canteen of water in there,” Eavyn explained, pausing to rap her knuckle against the side of the box. “I brought an insulated flask of coffee as well. Cream and sugar to the point of nearly altering its state, right?”

At Val’s widening eyes, the paladin laughed and gave a little shrug. “I noticed at breakfast yesterday morning.”

Finally, Valdyss had finished her mouthful. “Thank you. Light… I don’t think I realized how hungry I am.”

“That’s just as bad as knowing you are but not taking the time for yourself,” Eavyn countered as soon as Valdyss had taken another large bite. She’d found it a good strategy for getting a word in when she might not otherwise. “In any case, there are two apples and a little bundle of cookies in the crate as well, should you realize you’re hungry again before dinner.”

“Look, I appreciate the food, but I don’t need to be moth-”

“You can’t pour from an empty vessel,” the paladin interrupted. Her voice was firm and kind. “Clichéd, but true.” She gestured towards the manor with a sweep of her hand. “They see you as a leader in the Hallewells’ absence and treat you as such, and that is exactly why they must witness you eating and resting as well.”

Realizing she had no good argument against that logic, Valdyss could only sigh. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That’s not apparent, nor is it permanent.”

Valdyss laughed, couldn’t help it. “So you’re saying I have them fooled?”

“I’m saying you’ve earned their confidence, and that hardly makes them fools.” Eavyn waited for Val to take another bite before she added. “And I’ll add that sometimes compassion comes hardest when one must extend it to oneself.” 

With that said, the paladin turned to head back to the manor, calling “See you at dinner!” over her shoulder as she went.

[alexandriawilliams]

what would completely break your character?

Something felt wrong as Alexandria led Resilience beyond the borders of the barony of Autumnhearth. She had only been gone for the day -- her duties to the Order of the Silver Hand had called her elsewhere, and she was relieved to be home... but uneasiness overtook her. Some dark presence was in the air, some inexplicable aura that brought with it a certainty that something terrible had happened. She nudged Resilience onward, bringing her horse up into a full sprint. Even for her experienced grip, she was going entirely too fast -- rushing through the darkened woods, the narrow dirt paths, the barely-lit entrance to Easthallow...

... or, what remained of it.

Light, what had happened?

Nothing was left. The buildings were razed to the ground. Dozens of corpses littered the streets, many familiar, some unknown, but all... utterly mangled. Something had torn through the small settlement at the heart of the barony, annihilated its protectors and the guard, and left nothing but debris and sorrow in its wake.

As Alexandria scanned the scene in absolute horror, she felt her heart jump into her throat. What had become of the manor... her son... Merellia?

She kicked Resilience back up into a full sprint, cursing herself for not staying to perform last rites for the fallen. Tradition be damned, there was still surely something afoot. Racing through the more established road to the manor, Alexandria pretended not to see the twisted, familiar bodies that lined the way. She felt tears well up inside of her. Why had she not been notified? A courier could have gotten to her. She could have stopped this.

The smell of smoke was overbearing as the paladin neared the manor, and she could soon see enormous tendrils of alchemical fire licking at the air as she neared. The animals in the stable were screaming, but the knight paid them no mind as she screamed the name of her betrothed.

“MERELLIA!”

The desperate cry came as she leapt from her saddle with her claymore held by its shoulder and bashed in the barricaded door of Autumnhearth manor. The only thing more tyrannical than the stench of smoke was that of death. She could barely breathe, but she barrelled through nonetheless. Beyond the decimated bodies of her fallen comrades, the land’s marshal, her squires, she smashed down doors and through makeshift barricades that had been erected to keep whatever had attacked at bay.

“MERELLIA! JAMES! ELISE!”

Alexandria’s shouting was filled with tears streaming freely down her cheeks. She knew the truth, but she simply couldn’t accept it. Autumnhearth had become her home, her family, her entire life... had it all truly been ripped out from under her... with no chance to defend it?

Elise was the first she found. Her eyes were wide in horror, and most of her lower half was missing. Alexandria’s gut wrenched, her heart throbbing with sorrow in her chest. No, no, no.

James, her beloved son, her baby boy, was next. Something had torn through his chest and ripped everything out. The paladin could barely keep moving, even as she felt the fire consuming the manor. The wood creaked in protest, and the supports began to crack.

Alexandria tore through the door to the only truly decorated room in the manor, the opulent lounge she shared with Merellia. There had been a battle there -- bullet holes tore through the wall, and Merellia’s silver blade was fragmented along the floor. Alex’s eyes caught a trail of blood leading back into the bedroom, and she broke into a sprint.

“Mere!”

She came upon the limp inquisitor, falling to her knees in a slide that dragged her across the wooden floor. Her arms scooped her body up, gently cradling her and bringing her forward to try and get her attention...

“Merellia, my love, please look at me,” she begged.

... but there was nothing left. There was nothing left of any of it... of anyone. Merellia’s lifeless body shifted with the motion, but otherwise did not stir. Alexandria hung her head low, quietly sobbing into the crook of her lover’s neck as the inferno continued to overtake her home.

She didn’t have the strength to move. She barely had the strength to bawl. All she could do was huddle her fallen love in a tight hug as she awaited the end. She prayed that they would be together again soon, somewhere beyond.

[charaznablescanontoyota]

there's an arg going on right now at easthallow-est-1422 on tumblr, it's only a couple weeks old but it seems really neat so far

ooo i'll check it out!

[alwaysonthemend]

Mirror of the Damned Master Post

Summary: In 1718, Captain Jacob Kiszka and his crew board their ship the Starcatcher and set out on a quest to bring back something that the Captain lost a long time ago. And he is dead set on his mission... no matter the cost.

In the old port city of Easthallow, Y/n lives alone, rotting away alongside the Calloway family estate. But her father held a secret. And she is about to be swept up in a tale of lies, betrayal, and danger. Captain Jacob needs her help and she finds herself unable to refuse him.

But there is so much that she does not know and Captain Jacob seems less than willing to tell her any more than he must. He's harsh, angry, and his swings in mood leave her and the rest of his crew walking on eggshells. But their fates are entwined together... their souls destined to make this journey side by side.

And for better or worse, there's no going back for either of them.

-Chapters below the cut-

:¨·.·¨:☾☆༺ 𓆩⚔︎𓆪 ༻☆☽:¨·.·¨:

Warnings: This story is for 18+ only. Death / violence / gore / murder / sexual content / prostitution / swearing / slow burn / unrequited love / death of loved ones / period typical violence / more in depth warnings within each chapter

My taglist

-

Part 1: Into the Storm

Part II: To Strange Horizons

Part III: Three Sheets to the Wind

Part IV: Storm's a Brewin'

Part V: Troubled Waters

[tyra-greydawn]

Jamming is Stupid

I'm going to Drustvar tonight. Mom's compass ritual says I have family there. So I'm going to find them. Because I need to. Mere told me she killed all the witches. I believed her but I think she was joking with me? Anyway she gave me a pin that's from the Order of Embers. I don't know if I'll wear that in the open or not. Haxley would say to hide it. But I'm not Haxley. Maybe I'll wear it openly? I don't know.

I heard that things are growing in Easthallow for the first time in a long time. If it's Mom, and she's alive, that's something she'd do. So I'm going to try to go there first.

I wish I had Mun-Li with me. But she wouldn't want me to wait.

( @merelliahallewell mention )

[weslynnegoldmeadow]

Once upon a time, Weslynne Goldmeadow was a dashing swashbuckler of sorts. You could still see the evidence if you squinted, namely her crooked grin, and penchant for inappropriate jokes -- or perhaps her old, faded Gilnean navy tattoo -- but whatever she used to be... Weslynne Goldmeadow was certainly something else, now.

She awoke that night to a dull, rolling pain. The extensive, scarred patch along her belly where that royalist's bayonet had run rampant with her guts ached as if she'd been punched. Wes could feel the presence of rain long before she realized it was bouncing off the window, but now that she was fully awake, it was a wonder she'd managed to sleep through the storm.

The old knight swung her legs over the side of the bed -- which creaked, and groaned in protest -- before pulling herself upright. "I know. I know." Weslynne chided the mattress with a groan of her own. "Believe me, I'm not too fuckin' happy about it, either."

Though -- perhaps unsurprisingly -- the bed did not respond, her aging mastiff, Genn did. The old hound opened one eye and huffed at the minor disturbance before laying his head back down.

Weslynne paced across her living room, and into the kitchen. On a normal morning, she might've been able to gage whether or not the sun was coming up soon, but as she gazed out the kitchen window, all she could see was blackness though the waterlogged glass.

For a brief moment, she considered laying back down, but the dull ache of her old wound reminded her exactly what'd gotten her up in the first place. With a resigned sigh, she put a kettle on over the fire, and climbed back up -- past Genn on the couch -- to the loft where she slept. She rummaged through the chest at the foot of her bed for the treated cloak Merellia had given her when she came to Autumnhearth. It was a light, cowled thing, meant more for summer rain, than snow or cold. It would make a fine addition to her patrol garb this morning. Or night. Or whatever fuckin' time it was.

A sturdy pair of boots, her layered fur armor, a thick pair of gloves, and one cup of tea later, Wes was draping the inquisitor's cloak about her shoulders. She checked her belt -- rummaging though water-proofed pouches for extra slugs, and her case of cigarettes -- before buckling it 'round her waist and fastening her trusty machete. After a last look around the house, she regarded Genn with an amicable little nod, gripped her hunting spear, and set off into the rainy morning.

... perhaps Doctor Clarke would be awake in Easthallow by the time she got there. Wouldn't that be nice.

[reeseweston]

EASTHALLOW | Masterpost | Page | Tag | Tag List

He can't go home empty handed.

Elijah's already coming home, to stay, with about twenty-four hours notice. He's got about two hundred dollars in his bank account and most of that'll be used for gas or for his car payment, but still.

Something. But he hasn't seen either of his parents in years, only chatted a few times and that was mostly to set up technology that Elijah barely understands himself. Never for conversations about hobbies. Just updates. How was Elijah's birthday, their anniversary. Did Elijah and Steven handle the move okay.

He turns his car off. Inhales and exhales slow and looks in the rearview mirror at his car full of shit, at his phone on the dashboard notifying him of a dozen texts from his ex that he'll probably read and delete.

He gets out of the car, but stops as soon as his feet are on the asphalt of the parking lot.

There's a cool breeze in the air, not unlikely for October, one that chills Elijah to the bone. But what's more chilling than the breeze is the fog settling in the valley, where most of the town sits.

Elijah's stopped at a small giftshop/convenience store, still done up with outdated outdoor decor. There's a Halloween wreath hung on the door, sunfaded and crumpling apart, and there's a cutout of... something big and black and foreboding in one of the windows.

He's seen worse. He and Steven have done their apartment up in worse.

The door to the convenience store chimes as he opens it. It's a small building, but it's packed full inside. Cigarettes behind the counter, snacks and scratch-offs stacked from countertop to ceiling. One of the walls is covered in souvenirs, though why anyone would want something from this fucking town is beyond him. Easthallow's a nearby haunt from Elijah's hometown, Cold River Falls, but it's barely a blip on the map. An old mining town that won't leave. A post office, a liquor store, a locally owned grocery and, apparently, this place.

[reesewestonarchive]

By the way I updated easthallow on wattpad

https://my.w.tt/IRvotKcvp1