wyatt-hennessy

[wyatt-hennessy]

Wyatt let out a genuine guffaw when she mentioned fractions. "Beg your pardon, ma'am but I barely recall my times tables, let alone fractions. Let's keep it simple with the whole numbers for my sake, thanking you kindly." He sucked his teeth and tipped his bottle to his lips for a drink, a slight shake of his head as if he could shrug away the concept of more advanced math by doing so. "Whatever number you pick will be a beer and I won't tell you what they are until you decide," making it a random decision, or at least, mostly random for her at least.

Considering it relied almost purely on luck, Anastasia wasn't sure she would call it a game exactly. It wouldn't do to say that though. Instead, she let her lips curl in a smile. "Only whole numbers or are we including fractions?" she asked. If she was going to play, which she was, she had to know the rules. One to three was quite a small range and gave her a quite easy chance of winning. The easy chance of winning could very well be the point or he might be looking for the opportunity to 'show her up' so to speak by having its ease be deceptive. Anastasia thought it was likely the former, but she'd been in enough bars with men to consider the latter.

[wyatt-hennessy]

Wyatt wasn't one to judge, figuring she must have her reasons for choosing a butterfly above anything else, though it did make him wonder at the reason but not enough to inquire after it. Not that he felt she'd reveal it to him anyway, the two of them being strangers. He also didn't feel the need to ruin her mood her or anything like that by commenting how she would likely need to part with the bug eventually, since it was a bug and would die eventually, because she likely already knew all that. So all he did was nod in response and wish her luck, "Well, sounds like you got your work cut out for you then." Trying to maintain the life of a butterfly must be difficult work. "Thanks for the tour, Miss Eilonwy," he said to her, giving her a nod of appreciation in her direction as he made a step back as a silent indication he was ready to leave. "Maybe I'll see you two around."

there were a few moments where she was silent, oddly so, eyes trained on the bug before watching it fly away. eilonwy was unsure whether or not to be honest in the moment, knowing that what she was doing could be easily frowned upon. extending the lives of such fragile creatures, using up her own reserves of fae magic, all to keep everything so alive?

"yes, that's a way to put it, her lifespan is a little extended," she explained with a polite smile, as it seemed easier than fully going into what she was truly doing. "i can't bare to part with her,"

[wyatt-hennessy]

Wyatt gave a slow nod in confirmation, knowing how to drive a car was fairly important when it came to having a car. "Reckon you just might," he agreed again. He didn't bother saying that she should learn to drive or that she was old enough to start or any such nonsense like that because he figured, well, that she was olde enough and self sufficient enough to determine that all for herself without any reminding from him, essentially a stranger to her life. He didn't know her background beyond the brief moments they'd shared together, mostly in this very truck. "I don't live too far off from here," he commented now that he was looking out the window and inspecting the area around where her building was, "Suppose since I'll be sticking around in town for a little while, if you've a need for a ride again, if I ain't busy and all, feel free to give me a holler." The way they seemed to bump into each other when she did need a ride was comical enough to have occurred twice now that it felt right to offer more rides in the future.

Maya had to laugh at his suggestion. Not because she didn't enjoy camping. She did. Despite all the difficulties and fear of her year on the run, she had always taken comfort in the sight of the stars above her as she slept. No, the issue wasn't breathing clean air and enjoying nature. "Well, it'd have to be the second one," Maya replied, "Seeing as a car wouldn't do me much good without knowing how to drive." Ry had offered to teach her, but she hadn't brought it up again. It seemed like a lot to ask. "I might have to start with the good country around here, places the buses go."

[wyatt-hennessy]

END

As her expression relaxed and her breathing began to even out, the shadow his hand cast over her face gradually melted away along with her nightmare and in his hand now resided a solid black orb, the nightmare he'd collected.

Wyatt pulled his hand back and turned the orb over in his hands, inspecting its creation. The sides were smooth and cold to the touch, within it appeared to be liquid smoke billowing in darkness with the occasional flickering spark of a fire. Centering the orb in his palm, he pressed over it with the other, squeezing and molding the orb and once it reduced to about the size of a marble, he pushed it through his lips and swallowed it promptly.

He would not stay there long now and soon started to ease up from the side of the bed, careful as not to disturb her now restful slumber. Into the front room of his apartment he would go, keeping all the lights off because he could see well enough in the dimness of it despite having these human eyes for enough light filtered in from the outside street lights through the windows. Onto his couch he would settle down, reclining with his feet propped up on the coffee table, surface and edges of the wood scuffed as he'd picked it up second hand for the practical use of it and not it's aesthetic though it did look weathered in a sort of way a millennial might appreciate. Wyatt did not need to sleep, not in a traditional sense, he meditated and with his eyes now shut it would look very much like he was asleep, like he'd just dozed off after watching too much TV with his hands clasped lightly over his stomach, gently rising and falling with his steady breaths.

[wyatt-hennessy]

Wyatt let out a soft hum before he replied, "I was thinking could keep it simple. See if you can guess what number I'm thinking of between one and three," he suggested casually. "Anything too complex takes away from the point of it all," the point being actively drinking instead of lingering on picking a drink. He turned his shoulders toward her, his head inclining to the side, "So's what's it gonna be?"

Anastasia was patient. She had to be. Her sharp blue eyes watched him as he seemed to roll the idea around in his head. When he motioned towards the blackboard, her gaze shifted there momentarily. None of it sounded especially appearing, but when in Rome.

The man's accent suggested that he was not a local. If she was correct, and she usually was, he was from Oklahoma. Although, he could also be from the Texas Panhandle. The accent alone though didn't tell her how long he had lived in Greywood. Plenty of people held onto their accents long after they had moved to a new city or region. She raised an eyebrow, "Maybe. What kind of game are you suggesting?"

[wyatt-hennessy]

"Not much," came Wyatt's response as he toed his boot into the damp earth and squinted looking out over the water once again, though upon hearing Roman now say that he'd get along, Wyatt returned, "Don't bother. I'll get back to my wanderings, don't mean to bother you none so I'll be on my way." He gave the visibly older man a slight nod of his head as he began to step back from the river's edge, "You have a good day now, Roman," he let out in an almost mutter for his departing words.

Perhaps it was his military training or the lack of trusting people he did not know, but Roman kept his defenses up and kept a watchful eye on the other.  If the man lived in Greywood, why was it that he was just seeing him for the first time?  The town fluctuates constantly with new people coming in and others leaving to explore the world.  However, it still was a small town and you tended to recognize people even if you didn’t know their name.  Roman nodded at his words, “find anything interesting today?”  He inquired curiously.

“Most people call me Roman,” he stated.  It wasn’t his name, but he felt the man he used to be died with his wife and being called Joseph/Joey always hurt besides when Corey called him it.

“Guess I should be getting along.”

[wyatt-hennessy]

Her response was quick and Wyatt responded to it with a blink and a question, "How so? She your familiar of sorts?" He understood well enough that some fae had familiars and that could extend their lifespan but to choose a butterfly felt odd to him who, if he'd been the one picking, would opt for something more useful.

she wondered what he thought, eilonwy silently watching wyatt as he did so to the butterfly perched on her finger. haf was the closest thing she had to a child, a member of her family, and though wyatt's statement was both true and neutral, it caused her to almost recoil. the fae pulled her back immediately, as if it would be the man himself to smush her and end her short life. "not haf," her voice was oddly sharp. "she's special."

[wyatt-hennessy]

As her expression relaxed and her breathing began to even out, the shadow his hand cast over her face gradually melted away along with her nightmare and in his hand now resided a solid black orb, the nightmare he'd collected.

Wyatt pulled his hand back and turned the orb over in his hands, inspecting its creation. The sides were smooth and cold to the touch, within it appeared to be liquid smoke billowing in darkness with the occasional flickering spark of a fire. Centering the orb in his palm, he pressed over it with the other, squeezing and molding the orb and once it reduced to about the size of a marble, he pushed it through his lips and swallowed it promptly.

He would not stay there long now and soon started to ease up from the side of the bed, careful as not to disturb her now restful slumber. Into the front room of his apartment he would go, keeping all the lights off because he could see well enough in the dimness of it despite having these human eyes for enough light filtered in from the outside street lights through the windows. Onto his couch he would settle down, reclining with his feet propped up on the coffee table, surface and edges of the wood scuffed as he'd picked it up second hand for the practical use of it and not it's aesthetic though it did look weathered in a sort of way a millennial might appreciate. Wyatt did not need to sleep, not in a traditional sense, he meditated and with his eyes now shut it would look very much like he was asleep, like he'd just dozed off after watching too much TV with his hands clasped lightly over his stomach, gently rising and falling with his steady breaths.

The dream began to shift and change. There was a shadow above her, but looking up Maya saw nothing. When she returned her gaze to the center of the church, the smoke was clearing. She could no longer hear Shaw taunting her. She started to run towards the stake, intending to untie the person there. As she ran though, she found herself getting no closer. The walls and ash around her grew darker and softer.

And then she stood inside her apartment. Someone was laughing on the balcony. It was warm and safe. The nightmare had gone.

Maya's expression relaxed, even if her body didn't uncurl itself from its protective position. Her breathing evened out. For the first time in a long time, she didn't wake up in a cold sweat or with a scream dying on her lips. Instead, she slept.

[wyatt-hennessy]

"I try to," came his response, "There's a lot of good country up there. Untouched, for the most part. Real natural and nice. It's good for the soul and what not, breathing clean air," the turns came up quickly and he was soon pulling his truck to a gradual stop along the side of the road outside of her apartment building. "You should get yourself a passport one of these days and a car with a lot of miles on it. See where it gets you," now he inclined his head in her direction, "Or someone who'll give you a ride, I suppose," the edge of his mouth turned up in a slanted almost smirk.

Maya had been all over the United States and heard all kinds of accents. It still took her a moment to figure out what Wyatt was saying. His mention of Canada was a confirmation of what she'd work out. She shook her head, "No." She then added, "I don't have a passport, so it's been strictly continental." Before Alexander Shaw, she hadn't traveled much outside of New England. "Do you go to Canada often?" Maya asked. Glancing at the road, she let him know that he should take the next right and then her building would be on the left.

[wyatt-hennessy]

The grunted sentence though simple in nature felt like a quiet accusation and resulted in a very slight slant to form along the slope of Wyatt's lips, then paired with a slow thoughtful nod it'd almost look like he was in agreement though in direct contrast with his words when he replied, "Now, how could a someone do that?" A question he didn't really anticipate a response to. "Ah, right," he seemed to answer himself, "This a magic town. Reckon maybe it ain't so uncommon then," he turned his eyes back up to the traffic light, still sparking and shooting out angry fizzles of crackling fireworks. "Can't say I've ever had a shower of sparks 'afore now. So, is it you?" Wyatt's blue eyes drifted back to Ryden, "You something supernatural?" Asking though he already knew the answer.

And what, Ryden looked like he did have the urge to sit down?? The wolf couldn’t figure out why he was offended by that, but he was nevertheless. Perhaps because if there was a timeout corner with a little kiddie stool in it that’s where this bloke would point him to take a seat at. Or at least that was how it felt to Ryden and he didn’t like it, not one bit. Now one would easily figure that Ryden was being completely irrational there and they would be partially right. But that part was not taking Ryden’s animal instinct into the account. It was a little whispering worm in his head that told Ryden if this guy in front of him wanted to be dangerous, he would be dangerous. More dangerous than Ryden was used to, even. 

The werewolf just could not believe the water off a duck’s back attitude even if he wanted to. He detached his stormy glare from the man with much difficulty, finally looking up at the hazardous traffic light. “Or sumone.” He added, the simple sentence more of a grunt than anything else.

[wyatt-hennessy]

Wyatt gave a low sort of chuckle, "Am I that transparent? Heh, may as well call me cellophane," he turned his attention to the sputtering coffee machine as it fizzled and hissed out boiling liquid into the carafe, a nice rich color of a well done brew. "I am looking for something, not sure if you'll know what I'm meaning but I heard tell of some sorta ruins up in the woods around these parts. Gotta admit, it's peaked my interest but I can't seem to find it with all my hiking. You wouldn't happen to know the way there, wouldja?" Wyatt poured the coffee into two paper cups, "Cream and sugar?"

Continuing the backwards walk Karter nodded at the request and at the question both. "You got it," he said as he finally turned around and took the last steps, fishing for coins in his pockets and then just going for his wallet in his backpack. The process took him a while as he tried to figure out if he wanted anything for himself aside from the waters and then went for pick me up snickers - one for now and one for before he left or while he rode back home. "Yea, yea, we met like a start of December in the hardware shop. I'm new to the woodworking so he offered to help me out, ergo my come here today since my family loved all the stuff I made them for Christmas," Karter said, not at all worried if he was oversharing, the information quite innocent anyway. "I am, and in fact, I have started specializing in like impromptu guides around town, if you're looking for something," he said, picking up on a possible meaning behind the question.

[wyatt-hennessy]

Wyatt leaned forward somewhat to get a better look at the butterfly now perched on her extended hand, the dark black borders encasing the brilliant orange within, the body he inhabited knew enough about butterflies to recognize what kind it was, the image iconic enough. He looked at the grand insect named Haf carefully, one could even say there was respect held within the blue of his eyes. "She won't live long." He asked by way of statement without looking away from the butterfly.

she made a mental note, mainly to herself, to tell the butterflies next time when wyatt came to land on him a few times. she could hear their silent chattering, their fear and apprehension of someone...and not just because he was a new face. yet, they wouldn't tell her directly what the issue was, something that upset eilonwy greatly. "they're not so bad, keep to themselves mostly," the fae explained, as they often talked amongst themselves. "a favourite? such a notion is unfair but -" of course eilonwy had one, looking around before catching the bright orange of a familiar pattern, moving to extend a hand towards it - a monarch butterfly, its wings a complete match to her own. "this one. i call her haf,"

[wyatt-hennessy]

"Reckon we should've," Wyatt gave a good natured and friendly smile to Theo once their names were exchanged and they were technically no longer strangers. "Always did end up doing things a little bit topsy turvy," he commented as they got settled into their table located in a quieter portion of the relatively busy establishment, which wasn't all too quiet but at least far away from that rowdy group from the line ahead of them.

Wyatt only shook his head at Theo's apology for yawning, "It's none of my nevermind," he said back, "What is it that you do for work?" He asked while unwrapping his burger from the wax paper packaging, taking his time with it as he did with most things so the paper would be neatly rewrapped and pushed down before he took a moderately sized bite. This was something the infernal Wyatt still wasn't used to, consuming food for energy. He wasn't sustained by such archaic forms of sustenance and yet this body was so he had to make do and chewed mechanically.

Theo felt bad for exaggerating since he wasn't the one who was paying so he took the same thing as him. ''Oh, yeah! We should've introduced each other before we decided to share lunch together,'' he laughed because it didn't seem like they were doing things in the right order, but it didn't matter that much in the end.

''They call me Theo. It's nice to meet you Wyatt, thanks for this,'' he said as he took their food and chose a nice table that was far away from that big group of people on purpose. He yawned because he was kind of tired after his long shift, but he still had a few hours in him. ''Sorry, I'm just getting off a shift. I was too hungry to go right to bed.'' He explained so he wouldn't end up thinking he was boring him.

[wyatt-hennessy]

"What are you reading then?" Wyatt inclined his head at an angle to get a look at the book she'd been reading. This body hadn't done much reading and so Wyatt hadn't felt inclined to start, at least not yet, he was currently enjoying other hobbies and would perhaps take up some reading in due time.

"Why'dya ask?" He questioned, giving her a sideways glance, his dirty blond hair fell into his eyes so he pushed it back, "Getting bored in here all by your lonesome?" He couldn't fault her if that were the case. It were part of the reason he'd picked this job in particular, knowing it'd keep him busy and moving.

The first thing she did was to ask google for help, the first answer wasn't really helpful. It simply said to read the instructions manual, as if she wouldn't have been able to find that answer herself if they had the manual...After a while she finally managed to find something useful and started following the steps. She was struggling a little bit after spending years away from any computer, but she was usually resourceful.

''You're early,'' she simply stated, still looking at the computer. It was why he made her jump before, she wasn't expecting him right away.

She was frowning her eyebrows, getting a bit confused. ''Yes, I did everything I had to do and now I was just finishing this book I've been reading.'' Technically she probably wasn't supposed to read at work, but it could sometimes get boring when she was alone. The phone wasn't ringing, nobody was trying to check in, she would only be starting a staring contest with the wall in front of her if she didn't at least try to do something else.

''Do you need help with anything? After I'm done setting this up?''

[wyatt-hennessy]

Wyatt released a thoughtful hum, not bothering to correct the visibly older man that now it seemed Solomon was the owner and instead just let it drop since it didn't matter all too much either way, at least not to him. Clearly the other didn't go there often if his recollection remained with the prior ownership and therefore who owned it wasn't important. Wyatt let his eyes ghost over the surface of the river, sparkling occasionally when the light hit it through the filter of the trees. He noted the comment that not many people made it this far out -- a comment the other had made a few times now and Wyatt picked up on the implication that his presence was therefore some kind of intrusion -- and replied casually, "I like to wander. Always find something interesting that way," he knelt down to pick up a smooth stone from the edge of the river and rubbed his calloused thumb across the surface before he tossed it back down into the soft mud.

"I don't reckon I caught your name?" He asked the other man now, turning his gaze onto him with a tilt. He had given his but didn't recall getting one back.

The wolf nodded, “Eli’s the old man that owns the place.  Although maybe he don’t no more.”  Not that Roman cared one way or the either, he was just merely making conversation with the other fellow.  With the pole in hand, Roman stayed where he was standing as he kept his eyes on the other.  “Not a bad place, you should be able to get ya a few fishes.  Mainly enjoy it for the peace and quiet,” he commented.  “Not many wander this far out,” Roman stated.

[wyatt-hennessy]

Wyatt had given a crooked smirk after her laughter, "Humor me," he practically purred with the low rumble of his warm voice. She did seem to be and he let her get adjusted and comfortable and he simply remained as he was, laying there on the bed beside her with his hands clasped over his chest and gaze now directed to the ceiling of the dark room. He didn't need to listen to her breath to know she was falling asleep. He could feel it, like a tug at the edge of his consciousness, sleep came to her and it was calling him to join.

The deep dive into a sleeping person's unconscious always felt different. He was both here and not, seeing two sides of the world at once, the blank background of the ceiling blended into the vision of her building nightmare. He could taste her fear, taste the smoke and copper blood filling the air until it surrounded completely and nothing was safe from it. It was all consuming and so he started to consume it. Wyatt shifted where he laid, moving into a seated position with his legs crossed and stared down at her sleeping form. He could see the dream in her sleeping features, the billowing smoke like a filter over her. His hand stretched out over her face, casting a shadow despite the darkness of the room, the shape of his shadow over her face rendering a completely dark abyss that swallowed her face up entirely. Slowly, particles began to lift from the edges of this voided shadow, drifting upwards to collect at the center of his palm hovering a few inches from her face like dust or ash, accumulating into a small orb in his hand. Her nightmare dissolving slowly with every passing second, revealing just a little bit more of her face as it did.

Maya couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of her at his response. It was better than what she had expected, of course. She always expected anger or ridicule. Telling her to go to sleep was not that. "Right, like I'm ever going to be able to just go to sleep after talking about that," she said, half to herself.

Still, she might as well try. After all, it'd be silly to come all the way over and not at least give it the old college try. Maya adjusted a little and closed her eyes. Against all odds, she fell softly into sleep. Her heartbeat slowed and her expression relaxed. She looked more like the twenty four year old girl she was than the hardened women life had bent her into.

It wasn't soft for long though. She found herself standing back in the church, the air thick with smoke and blood. It wasn't her standing on the pyre though. The person there changed as she looked frantically around, but it was always someone she cared about. "No," she said, not sure if she was speaking aloud. She had to do something, but her feet were rooted to the spot. All she could do was watch, a scream building in her throat.

[wyatt-hennessy]

"I don't mind," Wyatt returned as he carried on driving down the road, "I was just passing through on my way to Saskatchewan," his accent absolutely butchered what would have been a normal pronunciation of the location so he wouldn't fault her if she had no idea what he'd been trying to say as it came out sounding more like 'Sass-ah-catch-er-wahn.' Though he did also add on, "That's somewhere up there's in Canada. I got a place up in the north there I visit from time to time. Have you ever been? To Canada?"

It was funny, maybe, how many times in the last few days that Maya had been told what had happened hadn't been her fault. Sometimes, she believed it. Most of the time though, she had to give herself some of the blame. It gave her some control at least. If it was her fault, theoretically she could prevent it in the future.

She nodded when he said that he was from Tahlequah. She had no reason not to believe it. At some point, she had passed through the down or near it maybe. Maya hadn't stayed long in Oklahoma. People there had given her that look, like they knew she was in trouble and wanted to offer to help. After what had happened in South Carolina though, she'd known better than to accept help. Her gaze flitted over to him. It was all rather non-specific. He was here for family of some kind for some reason. Maya could press the point, but she had given a lot of non-specific answers in her time. And Greywood was a refugee. "Can I ask how you ended up in Montana?" she asked instead.