#thestclair era

[memories-n-dreams-blog]

A Pint Owed || Obsidian & Harry

Harrison emerged from the bathroom, one hand still down below, pulling his belt tight, only to grumble at how much more crowded the back room had gotten in the moments he had been occupied.  People bumped and jostled, piling in until it seemed there was only standing space left available.  In the far corner, he could see a small group setting up speakers, pulling out instruments and microphones.  Not that Harrison wasn’t a fan of live music, but the din was already enough for him without being deafened by drunken rockers.

And so the large man made to maneuver and push his way through the crowd.  One or two elbows were knocked and the way, one of them whirling with a look of dull, inebriated anger that was swallowed when they came face to face with Harrison, his coffee eyes giving a cool ‘don’t try it’ before he was on his way again.  It was only when he heard the shattering of glass after he was knocked into, bowling him into someone else that he sighed, turning with an apology on his lips that was lost, forming a smile instead.  

“I suppose I do.  It’s getting crowded here, Glass.  What’s say we continue this at Kisa.  I’ll get you two beers even.”

It had been so hard to see in the little shed. So many people pressed against each other, the music blaring at a decibel that wasn’t obnoxious but annoying enough that you still needed to shout. She hadn’t been to a party like it since she was in college. When the beer hit the floor and smashed she was reminded of how much she had hated these things when she’d been in school. If her protections weren’t in place, she would have been mind surfing the second she’d been touched. It was such an easy thing to trigger that she had to make sure her wards were always in place. 

She looked up when a smooth voice floated over her annoyance. Bright eyes met deep chocolate and she gave a half smirk. “Well it’s the least you could do,” she told him as she crossed her arms. “It wasn’t a shit drink, that. I was looking forward to drinking it.” 

She turned on her heels and headed back the way she’d come, careful not to jostle too many on her way. She stopped at the door to make sure he was following. “Kisa it is. You’re driving.”

@thestclair-era

[ashildrfalkenstrom-blog]

Cry for Help || Ash & Harrison

Sometimes you can go through things without noticing something that was always there; but then the moment it’s pointed out to you, there was no escaping it. That was the best way to describe how Ash felt. When she had been stabbed, those following weeks were just normal. She spent the time recuperating at Nico’s home, and had made herself very comfortable there, not to mention rekindling an old romance that, as it turned out, had never truly died between the pair even when they set it aside. Ash had been happy.

But then came the party, and how she had murdered Jay in cold blood. His body had never been recovered, just as she had hoped, but was suddenly frightened over why she had done it. She couldn’t remember doing it, couldn’t remember killing him. The penny eventually dropped, the spirit, the one Brenna was hunting. It was the thing she had never noticed but now couldn’t ignore no matter how hard she tried. Ash was going intending to go and see Brenna,, to try and seek out her help, but instead she came face to face with Alexei.

She wasn’t sure what it was about the man that had triggered it, but she had felt the darkness slip into her vision, and the panicked feeling of losing control as whatever the thing was took over. One moment she had been in town. When she woke up she was standing in the middle of the forest with another corpse at her feet, the corpse of a centaur of all things too. Her wings; forbidden to be seen by mundane eyes, stretched out and in clear state where she had used them. More fear. More panic. This was only getting worse.

Ash had fled, folding white and brown feathered wings back into glamoured nothing, non-existent as far as anyone was concerned. Nico’s suggestion ricocheted around her mind, and in a blind scurry over rocks, dirt and through trees, she found herself trudging through the ranch, up to the estate. Despite not being injured herself, she had clearly been in a fight. Clothes had torn where Alex had struck her with his arrows or snagged on branches, her skin was streaked with mud and blood and her hair in disarray from whipping through the trees.

The witches who patrolled the grounds of the manor were met with that strange sight as the woman stepped into the courtyard; her eyes alight with fury and fear all at once. They stared at her as she stood there, panting for breath as she tried to keep herself under control. 

“Get me Harrison St Clair. Now.”

@thestclair-era

[cassandraainsley-blog]

Missing || Cassandra & Harrison

The missing person’s department was starting to get a little overrun. Cass felt swept off her feet as it was with the murder-suicides, although those had suspiciously dropped off of the face of the planet. Had whatever it was finally calmed? Regardless, the case was a dead end for now, and resources needed to be allocated appropriately in their small little station and Cass found herself standing with a manilla file in hand, “Tinsley Adams is missing? From the tv network?” She was stunned, she hadn’t truly been keeping tabs on missing persons with her own cases spilling over the brim, “And she’s been missing for weeks?” She blew her cheeks out and shook her head. The other detective gave her a dour frown, a witch in his fifties with salt and pepper hair and a five o’clock shadow, “We have no idea where she went. None. It’s… It’s entirely possible she was uh, consumed by the wolf that attacked as well.” Cassandra grimaced at that, but it wasn’t an unreasonable suggestion either. She shook her head with a heavy sigh, hoping that sincerely wasn’t the case. “I’m off the clock now, d’you mind if I took this with me to mull it over? Fresh pair of eyes and all that.” She offered, and the detective gladly released her with the file. She bid the office a good night and headed back home. The pack house was… Calmer. There wasn’t such a toxic air hanging over them any longer which was a relief. Bellamy had come back from a job out of town and was curled up in the armchair watching some movie on TV, Cass decided to join him and flipped through the photos of the crime scene.

An arm... Just an arm.

Her brows pulled down, unsatisfied, “Bell?”

“Yeah?” He answered, pausing the movie to look up at her.

“Describe to me what you’d expect to see out of a werewolf attack.”

The curly haired brunette furrowed his brows, “Is that a trick question?” Cass shot him a look, “Alright alright. Uhh. I’d expect to see blood, lots of it. Guts, gore, like a literal animal attack. Maybe some chewed up remains, but otherwise there wouldn’t be much left.” He stated, and Cassandra nodded along in agreement.

“Isn’t it weird then,” She commented, “That this scene where Miss Adams went missing, that this werewolf attack, has only a single severed arm and barely a drop of blood to be seen?” There was blood, there just wasn’t enough blood. Werewolves on a rampage weren’t exactly being considerate for the cleaner in the morning, and yet this was almost… too well placed.

Bellamy perked up in his seat, “You’re kidding.” Cassandra shook her head and placed the photos back into the file before rising to her feet. Looks like she was going to have to get dressed again after getting comfortable for the night.

“Looks like this missing person’s case just became an abduction.” She sighed regrettably, “This isn’t good. Don’t tell-”

“I know the drill, Cass. Open case, still under investigation, no talkies.”

She smiled, leaning over to plant a kiss on his head. She’d always felt a maternal pull to the young man, “Thank you. I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.” Bellamy waved her off, and Cass quickly went to change out of her pajamas and into a more reasonable outfit. After that, and after the town meeting, there was one person she was pretty sure she ought to be talking to, and that was Harrison St Clair.

The drive over to the manor house was eye opening, if only because of the defenses that had been set up around the place. Soldiers were patrolling, spotlights, razor wire… Holy shit, he really was turning this place into a compound. Cassandra’s car rolled up to the gates where she was stopped by security, she flashed her badge, “I apologise for the late calling, but I’d like to speak with Harrison St Clair please? I believe he can be of assistance in a case, it’s time sensitive.” She explained, and the security officer went back into his hutch to make the call inside.

@thestclair-era 

[laureldavenport-blog]

Moot Point

Following her conversation with Temperance, Laurel began to make arrangements for the meeting to take place between the founding families and other important figures within the town to discuss the issues facing them at this time. 

The following message would be sent to the Remington Family, Kamdyn Family, St Clair coven leader, Spiritvale’s police chief and lead detectives on the murder cases, and of course her own pack leaders.

Good evening everyone,

I think that we can all agree that it would be wise for us all to meet and discuss recent matters within the town. I feel that we will be far more successful working as a group rather than chasing dead ends alone as it feels we have been these past few weeks. 

I propose that we meet at the Magical Archives this Saturday at 6pm, there should be ample room for us all to sit down and discuss our findings and try to work out a prompt and peaceful solution.

Sincerely, Laurel Davenport

@ice-n-the-veins​ @opheliaremington​ @flames-for-the-pyre​ @flowering-waterfalls​ @stclaire-arthas​ @thestclair-era @handguns-n-badges @cassandraainsley @kennedydavenport @dominicdavenport @packgoldengirl @alistairdavenport @zeph-kattalakis

[vaerminagoldsmith-blog]

Describe your relationship with the leader of the st. Clair coven?

“He was an apprentice of mine in his youth, which was how we came to meet. Since he ‘graduated’ we’ve always remained close friends, even though he’s considerably younger than I, I’d comfortably consider him to be a brother of mine.”

@thestclair-era