wessonmelancon-blog

[wessonmelancon-blog]

thebetrayermelancon

The best part about being the sister of Wesson Melancon, was that Judas could track him down just about anywhere. Just as he had found her across the country in Washington, she could find him across the city in a townhouse that smelled like bad perfume, vampires, and standing water. Armed with a large bottle of Westland Whiskey and two thick rock glasses – the only kind of peace offering that would not require words – she climbed the stairs to the bright blue Victorian style home and let herself in through the door. Once inside, she followed his pathway through the home, towards what she assumed was his bedroom. The home was… interesting. It was clearly recently renovated, with an interior that failed to pair well with the exterior of the building. It felt – she decided – like someone had chosen seven different designers and set them each on one room. Who the hell, for example, put a dark mural in a living room? All that did was drain any natural light from the room and create a foreboding wall of creepy birds and weirdly shadowed flowers.

Wesson was found, only a few second after her moment of critique for the painting, in a back bedroom, sleeping with the curtain still drawn. Back when they had been kids in Golden Meadow, Ellis, Amélie, and Wesson would all crash in the same bed after late nights of causing trouble. There was nothing strange about it – Wesson always claimed religion when Amélie did anything that could be construed as sexual, and she was too respectful of his relationship with his sister to try to push for separation in times of peace. The sleeping was just that – sleeping. It stopped after he got married, but sometimes the younger Melancon missed how nice those nights could be.

Gingerly, Jude set the cups and bottle on the wooden floor. She leaned down and unlaced her black boots, taking care to slip her feet out quietly before picking the alcohol up once more and depositing it upon the table to the right of his bed. She sat beside him in the bed, on top of the covers, and contemplated just how she was going to wake him up kind enough for him to simultaneously not kill her for trespassing and let her bitch about Alice doing the very same thing.

“Wake up,” she grunted, deciding upon action. Jude swung her legs off the edge of the bed and walked towards the window, throwing the curtains open and flooding the room with daylight. “I found this whiskey at a bar in this small town called Leavenworth. Thought ya’d want t’ try it with me. It’s supposed t’ be some a the best this side a the country.”

It had been a long night previous at the bar. Wesson had run into some trouble with the bartender over the topic of settling his tab; to make a long story short, he had garnered a few more hard hits than he would have liked. The bruises were short-lived, however, considering he stayed up until daylight fixing them with his restoration skills.

He wouldn’t have slept much longer regardless, but Wesson had always preferred to wake up according to his own, fucked up circadian rhythm rather than any other methods. Feeling the sunlight twinging his eyes had him grumpier than usual once he came into consciousness.

“Fuck” was just a groan as he peeled his eyes open slowly. “Jude?” was his next statement, as he obviously recognized the voice but couldn’t understand why his sister would be in his house.

After her next sentenced processed through his mind, he also began to remember their tussle the last time they had made contact. “Fuck you.” He pushed himself up on one arm and ran his other hand through his hair to push it out of his face. His sister’s face in the bright light made him raise his upper lip in anger he hadn’t gotten past quite yet.

Then, after some short consideration at how difficult this must have been for his sister to do in her own right, he muttered, “What’s it called?”

@thebetrayermelancon

We’re a Day Drink; Wesson and Jude

[wessonmelancon-blog]

aliceheed

Waking up feels ten times worse now that she’s sleeping in the backseat her dad’s old Buick. The first night she had been forced back into living in her car, it had felt comforting to close her eyes and fall asleep surrounded by the smell of her father.

On this fifth day of waking up with her cheek stuck to cracked leather seat material, Alice regrets ever thinking poorly of Addie and Jude’s couch. She’d do anything to be back on that piece of furniture again. Except like hell she wants to put up with Jude’s trash personality and selfish high ground. Maybe she can convince Addison to just put it out on the curb as trash and she’ll steal it and set up shop in some abandoned shack. Surely a small town like Soapbox has an abandoned shack she can crash in.

The witch sits up with a groan. She may be short but the vehicle isn’t much wider than her and being unable to spread out or avoid laying on the buckles sticking out of the seats makes sleeping miserable. Getting up even more so.

And now she has to pee.

It’s not terribly early in the morning. Her flip phone says it’s just after ten. So hopefully those awake aren’t in a grouchy mood right now. Alice looks out the window at the neighborhood she’d parked herself in. She’d done her best to park in a nondescript spot on the street so no one would get offended by her presence. And till today she’s been driving to the coffee shop to use the bathroom. But today her bladder is painfully full and there’s no way she’ll manage to drive without pissing herself.

So she rushes to the nearest door and rings the bell. Then knocks repeatedly while bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Come oooon,” she bemoans to herself. “At this rate I’m gunna piss in their bushes.”

Considering he had been inside since ten in the morning the day before, Wesson hadn’t noticed any new vehicles parked outside of his townhouse. Summer vacation for the college gave him time to sulk and research whatever-the-hell whenever-the-hell. An ancient Buick might have caught his eye had he bothered to look through the window and down into the street.

Being one that didn’t typically sleep in, when the doorbell rang, he was dressed and sitting on the couch against the hand-painted wall in his living room. He was just beginning to wish it weren’t so dark; back in Louisiana, the sun shone through the windows bright and early. Here, it stayed hidden behind the clouds and left him to turn on lamps and chandeliers that he previously considered unnecessary.

The knocking begins not soon after he begrudgingly gets up from his spot where he had gotten comfortable. “Christ!” He calls out whilst making the walk to the front door. “What’s so important?”

For a moment, he wonders if perhaps it’s Girl Scouts peddling their wares on his doorstep. While he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea, it was a bit late in the year to have schoolgirls out in strange neighborhoods talking about cookies.

“How can I help ya?” He says, opening the door slowly and squinting at the dull - yet slightly brighter than the house’s - light outside.

@aliceheed

Crash Landing ~ Alice & Wesson

[wessonmelancon-blog]

addisonlockheed

“Yes sir!” Addison allowed himself to be guided in the correct direction. He could see the top of the cathedral already; it was buried behind at least half a dozen blocks. The black peaks of the temple stood tall above most of the city.

A light giddiness permeated the lining of Addison’s stomach as they walked alongside each other. He placed his hand over the bag, safely tucked away in his jacket. “Oh these? I picked them myself. They’re most easily found in this area, and I was quite lucky! It just took a few days for me to get them properly dried… and now that they are…”

Addison kept speed, walking alongside his new friend Wesson, “And they are much more enjoyable with company.”

“Smart kid,” Wesson mentioned offhand. Herbs weren’t his forte in any sense, though his wife did enjoy to share her knowledge with him on some occasions. That knowledge would do him no good in this area, however. And while he wasn’t typically quick to trust, Addison seemed young and naive enough to be uninterested in swindling someone of Wesson’s kind.

He nodded along to Addison’s talk, putting his hands in his jeans pockets and mostly making eye contact with the sidewalk. He would look up a few times in between to make sure he was meeting eyes with the other witch, to gauge his personality and trustworthiness over time.

“I’m sure.” They turned together down an alleyway near the cathedral, where Wesson sometimes chose to do business and other dealings. “Here,” he motioned toward Addison after pulling both hands out of his pockets to free them, “this should work jus’ fine.” His hand stayed out and waiting for something to be placed in it. “Give ‘em here.”

@addisonlockheed

Day Trippers (Flashback) || Addison & Wesson

[wessonmelancon-blog]

addisonlockheed

“Really? Hmm,” the young man grinned, he was thrilled to have the chance to explore the city formally, “ I’m excited to see the city through your eyes! Where would you like to go first?” Addison was giddy, his legs bouncing up and down beneath the table. He hoped that Wesson wouldn’t have too much of an upset stomach after downing the rather large meal and then consuming shrooms. Typically, one was meant to fast prior to a trip such as the one they were about to set off on. It was why Addison kept to such a simple breakfast, despite the heavy drinking of the night previous.

On his way out of the booth, Addison left a couple quarters from his pocket on the table. He liked to contribute, wherever possible, no matter how small. Following Wesson, Addison ventured outdoors, shielding his eyes from the sun. “Well, we should find a good place to eat these guys,” he patted his jacket. There was a slight bulk under the area he pat, but it was nearly unnoticeable until attention was brought to it. “Do you want to brew a tea? Or just eat them? The tea will hit sooner, and harder, but won’t last nearly as long. If we eat them, it can upset your stomach, but it’ll be an all day thing.”

Wesson had missed Addison’s question about where he wanted to visit first; he was too busy getting up from the table and leaving money. His eyes lingered briefly on the coins he left behind, raising a curious eyebrow, but deciding not to speak up about it.

“You mentioned the cathedral, right? Should be able to find somewhere around there t’ munch ‘em.” Wesson reached over and patted the witch’s shoulder, pushing him slightly in the direction that they were headed. The cathedral was a short walk, but a walk nonetheless, so he decided there should be some sort of conversation between the two of them before the tourist talk began.

“Where’d ya get those, anyway?”

@addisonlockheed​

Day Trippers (Flashback) || Addison & Wesson

[wessonmelancon-blog]

What single tv trope sums your character up right now and why?

OOC: My goodness, this took me almost all day. But I think I settled on a few that I’m satisfied with.

First and foremost, Wesson is the Magnificent Bastard. Here are a few points that match him:

They have a goal, they’re not going to stop until they’ve completed it, whatever it is. To that end they will do anything. They’ll move heaven and hell.

They are definitely not dirty cowards. If they have to fight, they can and they will.

A few others that fit Wesson in one way or another: the Aloof Big Brother, the Fallen Angel, and the “Well Done, Son!” Guy.

[wessonmelancon-blog]

Who are some NPCs in your character's life that mean a lot to them or even subtly affect their daily life?

OOC: You all are probably sick of seeing the name Amélie by now, so I’ll just mention it and leave that be. Other NPCs involved in his life are his parents, Jean-Baptiste (father) and Josephine (mother), his grandparents, and other members of the coven. Other than that, Wesson didn’t make very many friends back home, especially in school, because he was a loner and didn’t do very many things to make people trust him.

[wessonmelancon-blog]

the zodiac signs as types of gods:

cancer: health deities

“a health deity is a god or goddess in mythology or religion associated with health, healing and wellbeing.”

examples: Paean (physician of the gods), Heka (deification of magic)

[wessonmelancon-blog]

Describe your deepest desire in a single word.

“There are so many, but I guess I’ll go with repentance. No, recognition. Sorry, no, power. Yeah, that works. That was a hard one.”

[wessonmelancon-blog]

What is the background image of your phone?

“One of the ones that starts moving when I hold down on the screen. Sometimes I do it just because it’s fun.”

[wessonmelancon-blog]

Who was the first person to have a crush on you? Did you like them back?

“First person to ever have a crush on me was this girl in kindergarten. Her name was Charlise and she had blonde pigtails all the time. I didn’t like her much ‘cause she would take my pencil so I’d try to get it back from her. Then she’d get mad ‘cause I’d tackle her to get it. Women are so confusing.”

[wessonmelancon-blog]

What is something you've done that you find unforgivable? has someone forgiven you for it?

“I don’t think I’ve ever done anything unforgivable, but I have done stupid things. Things like lettin’ my sister in on my business, or not gettin’ rid of certain people sooner.”

[wessonmelancon-blog]

What do you consider unforgivable?

“Not giving second chances, especially when they’re earned.”

[wessonmelancon-blog]

addisonlockheed

The rules rolled out of the other man’s mouth with a practiced ease… many people in New Orleans had a practiced ease with alcohol, Addison had begun to notice. It was as if alcohol were the lubrication between every other interaction in the old streets. He had been offered multiple drinks last night, from many people… woman, men, what seemed to be children, at some point. “I appreciate the advice… if only you could go back to the beginning of the night and share that last bit about the water…” Addison laughed and hung his head in the palm of his hands for a brief moment, a poor attempt to chase away the headache.

Addison lifted himself up and quickly busied himself with the menu, quickly spotting something that he wanted. “Uh, yes, can I get some toast, black beans, and maybe… some hashbrowns… yeah… that sounds great…” Wesson did not even crack open the menu, something that generally said good things about a restaurant.

“We ain’t got ‘ashbrowns, ‘ere kid. You’ll like the homefries though,” the line cook muttered and walked away, without even waiting for a confirmation from Addison. He smiled softly, the home fries sounded better anyway.

The food came faster than necessary and Addison dug in. The two of them shared little conversation, but what they spoke about, they seemed to agree. Wesson seemed like an interesting person. Oddly familiar too. Addison was still picking at his plate when the man slammed down some bills onto the table. A potato crunched delightfully in his mouth, still hot from the fryer, “Uh… well… I am rather new to the city and I’ve always felt the best way to learn and explore somewhere new is with some shrooms… but the trouble part is optional. I just planned on visiting the parks and the river, definitely the cathedral…” but, having a local could make a much better experience, “wanna come along? I have enough for the two of us… probably too much honestly….”

Wesson laughed, rather loudly, at Addison’s mention of shrooms. He had had plenty of his own experiences - Amélie introduced him to quite a few recreational drugs. Even though they weren’t legal, the young witch seemed to have no issue mentioning them in public. Wesson could relate with his flippant nature, that he had learned from Judas in his own case. The two could get in quite a bit of trouble if they were on the right thing.

“All of those aren’t new to me, but I’m happy to take ya.” Wesson hadn’t had the opportunity to explore the city on shrooms, particularly, but he was always up for a challenge. The two of them would probably see the city in a whole new light together.

“And I’ve always thought too much is better than not enough.” He was talking as he slid out of the booth they shared, having left enough cash to cover their food and a hefty tip (because he wasn’t a complete monster).

After having a moment to stretch, arms raised over his head, Wesson raised his brows at Addison. “Well? C’mon, son, we don’t got all day.” If he were to tell Addison the complete truth, he was excited to turn back to his old days, feeling the high his wife held in such high esteem.

Day Trippers (Flashback) || Addison & Wesson

[wessonmelancon-blog]

Do you think you're 'good parent' material? Why/why not?

“I could be, if I wanted to be a parent. I think I would be a great parent, but not a great parent to a witch. I’m just not a very good influence.”

[wessonmelancon-blog]

Wesson has a dark side, one that craves power above all else.

Accuracy Rating: 100/10

Holy hell, this is so accurate. Wesson wants to be recognized as the most powerful witch anyone knows, but he certainly thinks he needs the influence of his family’s coven to do it. He will, sooner or later, come to the conclusion that the coven isn’t necessary for it, and then it’ll be over for you bitches.

[wessonmelancon-blog]

Wesson would throw down for/about authentic gumbo

Accuracy Rating: 10/10

There isn’t much else to say about this one. It’s basically sacrilege not to.

[wessonmelancon-blog]

Wesson is a cat person, not a dog person.

Accuracy Rating: 10/10

Most definitely! Wesson prefers cats in every situation. He finds them fascinating, and he loves their clever, subtle nature. In fact, he and Amélie had one back home named Mr. Mittens (obviously not named by him - or maybe not so obvious?). Though he doesn’t hate dogs and in some cases will accept a slobbery kiss from one.