this is america.

andrew whitmore. twenty nine."the master's tools will never dismantle the master's house." - audre lorde

[andrewxwhitmore]

shade-c-gallagher:

“I do,” she said simply, though a smile tugged at her lips. She swept her skirt beneath her as she sat, the gesture ingrained and second nature by now. Her back remained straight in the supplied hospital chair. 

“I didn’t really stop to think about it,” she admitted. Even if she had, her actions would likely have been the same. Colleen protected those she cared about. The pain had been intense, but that was just physical. If Andrew had died, things would have been much worse than Colleen’s burned hands. While she tried to avoid pain and conflict as a general rule, her inherent nature apparently relished rushing into danger to provide a daring rescue. She had been the same even before she was turned into a Shade, working as an ambulance driver during the war. 

Colleen held up her hands for him to see. “Helena and your sister concocted some sort of ointment that speeds up the healing process. I’m fine.” Her hands under the bandages hurt less already.

She smiled at his dramatics. “Better to be bored out of your mind then dead,” she commented wryly. “But what can we do to make your stay more enjoyable?” 

“I suppose that’s the difference between me and you,” Drew mused, observing her. He often envied those who leaped without looking, who followed their gut unquestioningly. Who took action without first considering the cost to themselves. He was grateful to the shade for risking herself to spare him the same fate that Fox had met. More grateful than he would ever be comfortable expressing. A smirk upturned the corners of his mouth. “Must be nice, getting all the perks of Laila’s tears. Suppose it’s the great irony of my species.” He didn’t mind the pain, not really. It was a reminder of what he had endured, a reassurance that he had survived, that he was still alive. But the recovery, the time spent effectively out of commission, wreaked havoc on his mind.

“While it’s awful hospitable of you to ask,” the hint of a grin crossed his features for a fraction of a second, “I can’t think of much. Besides getting me the hell out of here."

[andrewxwhitmore]

whitmemore:

Philosophy was part of Laila’s daily readings, and about half a dozen times she crossed the subject of death. Most of the times it was funny, as how finite humans dealt with it so deeply and often on a negative sight. It was easy for her or other supernatural beings with the elongated lifespam to elaborate on it or even shrugg it off, but there was an extremely sensitive place where death was eminently terrifying for Laila and it was right in front of her. He was right in front of her. Injured, weak, seeking her hand. Immediately, all the memories of seeing him dead took her mind and she succumbed to the most depressing part of her brain. 

“Are you sure? Because it looks really bad” pulling his hand toward her face, she lightly kissed his fingers a few times, secretly counting it, checking to see if his whole body was there. “I’m fine” she assured her, shaking her face as the first tears rolled down her face. She did not know if everyone in the room could now smell it, or even feel something so rare and precious as phoenix tears being wasted, but Laila couldn’t do anything else. “What happened? Please explain me. Why are we here, why are you injured?”

“Nothing time won’t heal,” he managed, and though he knew this was true, the thought wasn’t particularly reassuring. It would be time lost from his work, time spent needlessly vulnerable to another attack. A sad thought crossed his mind. The Tallis girl probably thought she was the victim, or that she had been doing the right thing, despite the fact that, from the right angle, Fox’s actions could be construed as self-defense. Would the shade have taken that opportunity to strike had she been on the offensive? He had no doubt that this was true, but it didn’t matter. The witch had killed. Fox’s soul was her burden to bear.

None of this mattered. Laila’s tears were his real concern. “Laila… don’t cry, I’m here. Look, I’m going to be fine.” He tried to keep his voice reassuring, but the frailty it held was alarming. “I don’t know. I left the party,” she knew how he hated those things, “Fox found me. Two witches. She’s dead.” Saying it aloud made it real, though keeping silent would not have changed anything. “I don’t know if they know…” he trailed off, glancing down at his battered body. They had never encountered a phoenix, that much he was certain of. But somehow it felt like only a matter of time until they figured it out.

[andrewxwhitmore]

fatimasharpe:

Well this was just fucking fantastic. Fatima had waited at the table for almost an hour and had to keep reassuring the waitress that her dinner date would arrive. Except they never came. Looking at her watch once more, she looked up and was relieved to see a familiar soul passing by, “Hey! You should join me for a free dinner.” 

Andrew lifted an eyebrow at the sound of her voice. “Nothing’s ever really free, now, is it?” Still, he had stopped walking. The offer beat the prospect of another night inside. “So what’s the catch?”

[andrewxwhitmore]

shade-c-gallagher:

Colleen moved from the doorway where she had been leaning. Her eyes had been roving over Andrew, taking in his injuries, his pallor. He looked all right, all things considered. Her mouth quirked up in a wry smile. “You know I think I’ll continue,” she commented dryly. “Just in case I need to save your arse again.” She didn’t say it to be cruel. It was just a fact. Colleen was glad that she had been there at the right moment, and had been able to get to Andrew in time. 

Selfishly, she was equally glad that his flames had been doused when they were. She didn’t even want to think about how bad her burns would have been had he still been on fire when she grabbed him.  They were bad enough as it was.

“Should I even bother to ask how you’re feeling?” 

“Your timing is impeccable, you know.” The corners of Drew’s mouth turned up, though he offered no further indication of his gratitude. He had been certain another death was inevitable, but once again he’d escaped it. The feat would have been impossible without the aid of the shade. The debt he owed her was overwhelming, yet one he was determined to repay should the occasion for it ever arise.

“Most people would’ve been reluctant to grab a phoenix like that,” he added, turning slightly to face her, though this motion induced a faint wave of pain from the slowly healing burns on his arm. “How’re you healing up?” A dramatic sigh fell from his lips at her query. “I can feel my IQ dropping by the hour. There are only so many daytime talk shows a man can take before he breaks.”

[andrewxwhitmore]

whitmemore:

The night was running in a very unusual way for Laila. Not that she wasn’t enjoying any of it - bidding on a hunter in the auction, dancing with Randy, sneaking with Anastasia around the corners, drinking shots with Kane and many other things that she wouldn’t care at the morning. Around 4 am she decided to take a lap around the room, looking for her mater. First Andrew. Then Wells, Henderson, Kasey, Randall, they all puffed through the hours. That itself set something inside her head, the paranoia of being a runner through the century burning into her brain. 

Focusing on her brother, she started to check every door, every stairs, every possibility. Nothing. That was until someone tugged into her clothes. She reached for the hand, trying to get away from it, figuring it was some drunk dude pulling a move, but there was no hand to grab. Shadow stepping she was used to, being surprised, not. Next thing she knew, Laila was standing at the Ouroboros headquarters and then all her paranoia exploded. Something had happenned, that’s for sure. Someone even tried to talk to her, maybe explain, but all she could do was seeing her brother sitting on some big chair, looking pretty rough. “Drew?”, she kneeled in front of him, careful not to touch any of his injuries. “Drews what is going on?”

@andrewxwhitmore

It had taken Drew some time to realize that what had happened to him wasn’t an isolated incident. He’d been too focused on the pain, too consumed with what could’ve happened, to register the other bodies around him - some moving, some hauntingly frozen. The sight caught him off-guard. The room spun around him. He tried to find his sister, scanning each figure around him for any indication of her fat. He couldn’t lose her again. Though he knew she still had several lives left, the sight of her lifeless body all those years ago and the memory of the pain she’d endured still haunted him. He pressed his eyes shut, trying to drown out the sounds around him. Shouting. Gunfire. They snapped open, but Drew wasn’t there. He was solely focused on one spectre: his father’s body, hitting to ground repeatedly.

Her voice pulled him away from the memory. There are no guns. It’s 2018. I’m in New York. Laila is here. I am safe. “Looks worse than it is,” he finally managed, trying to muster a reassuring smile. “Are you hurt?” That was what really mattered. He reached for her hand out of a desire for the comfort her presence provided and squeezed it in an attempt at reassurance. His grip was too weak.

[andrewxwhitmore]

helenagrimaldi:

‘Hey, do you need any medical attention?’ ‘Does this hurt when I touch it?’ ‘Can I help you in anyway?’ seemed to be common phrases the dark witch heard herself saying as various members found themselves inside the walls of the headquarters. To say that Helena was a mess, well, wouldn’t be completely wrong but she still appeared like a statue. The Grimaldi’s had not only a reputation to uphold of looking the part of strength, but they naturally carried it within themselves. She was worried, she was angry, but most of all, she was empathetic towards caring for her fellow members. So as her eyes fell upon Andrew and the battered state he was in, the dark witch quickly made her way over to him. “Has anyone looked at you yet?” she quickly asked, relieved to see that he wasn’t amongst those who had fallen, “Good gracious, Drew, what happened out there?” Her voice was slightly desperate for understanding and swelling with emotion as she started to focus on what magical intervention would be necessary here.

@andrewxwhitmore

“Don’t touch me,” Drew groaned, shrinking away from Helena, not out of any sense of hostility, but concern for the heat still radiating from his body. The nausea had faded slightly, his senses too overwhelmed by the pain, the tightening of his chest. He drew a hand toward the sensation, clutching at the tattered fabric of his shirt. “The Tallis girl,” he explained through gritted teeth. “Zapped me.” He could hear the weakness in his voice, his panic rising as the effort of speaking hit him. Still, he tried to press on. “Fox… she’s…” But the vice around his heart made the words fail. Another groan emerged in their place, pain now shooting down his left arm. He could make out the slightest pattern branching across the limb: a lasting reminder of the damage the witch had done.

[andrewxwhitmore]

Restless. That was the best way to describe it. Drew was sick of staring at the same four walls, sick of being stuck in bed, sick of replaying what had happened over and over in his head. It took time to heal, more time for him than most. It was the sad irony of his species - a tear could heal anyone else, but his own body was immune to the effect.

Being injured always left him anxious. He was alert, aware of every sound, convinced that it would be another fight, another hunter, another attempt to preserve this life. It had been his experience that the very moment he let his guard down, something terrible would happen. He could never allow himself to be comfortable, to rest, despite the urgings of those around him. And he needed to explain, again, to make it clear that what had happened to Fox was not his fault, that none of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for her. That they could’ve escaped, but she wanted to fight.

He felt eyes on him from the doorway. This was the thing he always hated about shades - they were utterly unpredictable, appearing in silence at will. “You’ve gotta stop doing that,” he muttered, rubbing at his eyes. “I’ve got enough heart problems as it is. Lightning is a bitch.” @shade-c-gallagher

[andrewxwhitmore]

leon-duval:

lainetallis:

Despite everything else happening just up the stairs from her, Laine couldn’t pry her eyes away from the now lifeless woman near her. While she didn’t actually have a memory of the first time this happened, the similarities that she drew to both instances kept her immobile with the horror that she’d done this again. Someone else was dead because of her. She wanted to scream until her voice gave out or run away, anything to rid herself of this feeling or to convince herself that everything would be okay.

As her hand shifted on the knife still handle-deep in her torso, another sharp jolt of pain shot up her body and brought her to the present in time to see their second adversary trying to close the distance between them. Her eyes flicked to Léon, visibly very burned but trying to keep the man from getting closer. The witch pressed her heels against the floor in fear as she tried to back away, but she remained stationary against the wall. Once more, electricity welled in her body, rocketing from somewhere along her spine and out her arm. The thunderclap that followed rivaled the one before as electricity arced from her hand to the wall, the railing, and eventually the man who hurt her cousin so severely. She had to buy them an opening to get out. Keeping the knife in place had done a lot to keep herself from bleeding out, but even still, red now pooled on the floor at her hip and soaked her shirt, and she knew that once the adrenaline subsided, there was a very real chance of her cousin going into shock. Even if they survived this, waiting for help would still kill them both. This second assailant needed to go, and the two witches needed to run. @leon-duval​

Struggling to maintain consciousness from the immense pain that rippled through his body, the Duval witch blinked as Drew dropped the flames and immediately began charging down the stairs towards Laine. Fuck. Léon groaned as he pushed himself upright, sitting against the wall as flames rippled around him. He gripped onto the handrail tightly as he pulled himself upright, carefully parting the flames as he followed after the phoenix. He was too weak to attack the man, knowing that if he threw any sort of fire, Drew would most likely use it to his advantage. The witch could only hope that he could get to his cousin in time before Drew did.

However, all thought ceased the instant Léon felt a rise in Laine’s magic. There was a split second with a flash of light before he felt his body flush with intense pain. Being shocked was never a good feeling, but with the intensity of a Tallis witch’s magic, Léon could only gasp as his body jolted. He was no longer in control. Grasping onto the handrail was perhaps his fatal mistake. Convulsing, the witch collapsed, rolling down the stairs; Léon bumped into Drew as he continued his descent, his body still shaking from the intensity of Laine’s magic.

@andrewxwhitmore​

The jolt was like nothing he’d experienced before. It tore through his mind, leaving him unable to register anything other than the sheer burning pain. Burning. It was a sensation he’d never experienced before, something he understood in theory but had always thought himself immune to. Even the most affecting texts he’d read had not prepared him for how completely overwhelming the experience would be.

His body responded instinctively, flames roaring out around him in an effort to protect his weakened body from another attack. He fell to the ground, dizzy, disoriented, exhausted. The idea of slipping towards death, of being reborn once again, crossed his mind for an instant. Léon was weak, that much he was certain of, though whether or not that weakness would prevent him from dealing a final blow, from betraying the futile moral code the five families deluded themselves into believing they adhered to, he couldn’t be sure. The Tallis had proven she could kill, that she would kill, already. Perhaps his fatal flaw had been in underestimating her. His body was exhausted, the energy expended in maintaining these defensive flames better spent in efforts to heal, to recover. He couldn’t fight it, despite the foreknowledge that this would, in all likelihood, lead to yet another death, one he wouldn’t be able to see coming.

His eyes began to slip shut, vision fading in and out. Just before they closed he felt a familiar shadow cross over him. Colleen. In a healthier state he would’ve protested against shadow stepping, he would’ve fought the nausea it induced, but in this moment he only felt a weary relief, grateful for the escape from certain death.

[andrewxwhitmore]

leon-duval:

lainetallis:

She wanted to let go. The woman within the barrier looked afraid, and suddenly she was a teenager again, one with entirely too much power at her fingertips. The witch tried to push the images out of her head, reminding herself that a slip could mean her death or Léon’s, that this was necessary and she needed to maintain this for as long as possible. Despite her cousin’s efforts to keep the other man occupied, Laine’s concentration broke when she saw another bright flash out of the corner of her eye and managed to drop the electricity just in time to dodge out of the way of more fire launched in her direction. It collided harmlessly with the wall, but that momentary lapse in focus provided the woman behind the barrier the opening she needed.

Sharp pain exploded in Laine’s side and she gasped, able to feel something warm bloom from the location. The electricity had since dropped entirely, and Laine looked up at the woman who kept the knife buried in her rib cage. The satisfied look on her face and the intense pain she now felt snapped something, and the witch screamed as she shoved the woman away, a surge of electricity pulsing from her hand as it made contact with her attacker. The stairwell positively shook with crack of noise like thunder that came with it, and smaller bolts of electricity jumped from the witch and shade alike as it dissipated. Laine crumpled against the wall, her back pressed against it, and the other woman now lay prone five feet away, her eyes open but her body unmoving. The blonde’s hand came to the knife still embedded in her torso and she wrapped her hand around it, resisting the urge to remove it. @leon-duval​

Léon was caught off guard by Drew easily manipulating his flames, taking them all on at once. Such a move required a lot of power, one that the Duval witch was not expecting. Hearing Laine’s gasp, he turned to see his cousin being stabbed by the second offender. Immediately, a rush of anger flooded through Léon’s body. But that instant was more than enough for him to be pushed off, his balance wavering as he was thrown to the side. The witch grunted as his back slammed into the railings of the staircase, the narrow space providing little cover or comfort. 

His body burned with immense pain from holding onto the phoenix for that long. Léon struggled to see straight from the pain that rippled through his body. No doubt the burns would have some lasting effect. There was a crackle of thunder, which he knew without a doubt was Laine; but the intensity of the magic made his hairs stand. That was the power of a Tallis witch, uncontrolled and unbridled. Something was very wrong. He looked up to see Drew already concentrating flames of white, hot fire, the man’s hands pointed directly at Laine. Pulling himself upright, Léon began using his magic to quell out the flames, struggling to dampen its heat and intensity to prevent an attack against his wounded cousin.

@andrewxwhitmore​

Relief flooded Drew as the woman’s focus dropped, quickly replaced by glee as Fox thrust her blade into the girl. He sprang to his feet, flames now coiling along his wrist. His jaw still throbbed, but the sheer adrenaline coursing through him shielded him somewhat from the sensation. He attempted to push past the man, to decrease the distance between himself and the Laine, before a roar of thunder stopped him dead in his tracks.

The moment Fox’s body hit the floor, he knew she was gone. He was alone, pinned between members of two of the most powerful witch families on earth. While he never doubted his own strength, Andrew was no fool. Even wounded, the Tallis had managed to kill. In the space of a second he recalled the lives he’d lost already, the sensation of each death called up out of memory to haunt him. He would not die again, not here, not tonight. Not with the distant sound of Earth, Wind, and Fire creeping into the stairwell. The security of his survival was dependent on one thing: Laine could not get back up. He had to ensure it.

The flames leapt forth, seemingly of their own design, but he felt a strange tension. Léon. His eyes, red and filled with rage, fell back to the man. The fire he was accustomed to was very different from the sort Andrew produced, though he seemed to have adapted to it quickly. Still, the effort this task demanded was clear. Every second Drew wasted in this struggle increased the terror lurking in the darkest corners of his mind. It was pointless. A distraction. He released, allowing the flames to drop and instead engulfing the stairs directly beneath him. He darted through, unharmed by his own fire, his mind focused on one thing and one thing only. Laine Tallis needed to die. His own life depended on it.

@lainetallis​

[archivedsometimesemwrites]

“I annihilate. I ash. I terrify.”

— Clementine von Radics, from ‘Sylvia Plath Prays to the House Above Her’ (via sempiternele)

[andrewxwhitmore]

leon-duval:

lainetallis:

Laine hoped the falling concrete allowed Léon enough of a distraction to get an opening on the man on the upper landing. She couldn’t divide her attention any more, not when trying to manipulate something so volatile as raw electricity, and that was apparently what was necessarily to keep this woman at bay. The witch couldn’t stand the idea of using lethal means to beat her, and she figured a captive might be more useful than a corpse anyway. Whenever a bolt hit her, she seemed to have difficulty maintaining a corporeal form, and so the witch set about trying to use that to her advantage.

Another bolt shot from her hand and to the railing at the center of the staircase and the witch maintained it, the energy now pulsing through the metal creating a loud, rough humming sound in addition to the crackle as sparks occasionally flew off it. With the other hand, she created another bolt, trying to box in the woman. It took a little doing, but she eventually created something of a containment field using the metal railing and an arch of electricity, but it took almost all of her might to hold it. Adrenaline helped, but the anxiety and the desire to look up to check on her cousin in addition to the searing pain on her burnt leg would be her undoing. Thankfully, the woman now trapped inside the field looked a little lost, unsure how to proceed. Laine’s lips moved as she thought about calling to Léon, but she didn’t dare tear her eyes away or think about anything other than holding her hostage in one place. @leon-duval​

Hissing from pain, Léon could feel his skin almost immediately blistering from the intense heat of Drew’s skin. What the hell? The witch grimaced as his chest and arms almost bloomed in intense pain from tackling the phoenix. Not completely understanding the source of his pain, Léon was a bit hesitant to approach, leaving him open to Drew shoving him off. Pain burst all over again where the man had touched him. The witch gritted his teeth together before scrambling to tackle Drew again, this time swing with a right hook and an uppercut at the phoenix’s face. So it would burn. At least Léon would keep him off of Laine, even if it meant burning his body alive.

He cast one quick glance at the two girls below, a slight advantage he had by being on top of the other form his tackle. Quickly thinking, Léon flicked open his lighter with his left hand and began expanding the flames into a rush of several fireballs. The witch knew Drew would probably manipulate his flames, just as he had done before. But enough distraction and chaos meant a possible shot at the other attacker that Laine had boxed in. With one word, Léon began casting the balls of flames everywhere in the stairwell, hoping that one would catch Drew’s partner off guard.

@andrewxwhitmore​

Drew really had attempted to refrain from the use of any active violence against the man, but the second the witch’s fist collided with his jaw, he knew that was going to be impossible. How was he still in contact with the phoenix? Adrenaline dulls pain but this was almost impressive. He followed Léon’s gaze toward the girls, still mostly veiled from his vision. What he could hear was what alarmed him.

A buzzing noise, unmistakable both in origin and result. He craned his neck to see what he could. Just as he’d thought, there were two long threads of electricity taking the shape of a box or circle. He couldn’t see Fox, though he was certain she was captive inside. Quickly, he felt the presence of more fire, and a rush of what could nearly be described as glee came over him. Extending his fingertips, he fought against the other man’s magic, trying to decrease the intensity at which the flames roared, while simultaneously sending them toward the women. He couldn’t see where Fox was for sure, but if she was trapped like he thought, a burn wouldn’t be the worst possible result for her. He’d heard the whispers about the elder Tallis daughter’s occasional lack of restraint, or struggle with control. He only hoped that this small action from him would distract her enough for Fox to escape, rather than fall prey to her unbridled strength.

As for Léon, he pushed back hard, hoping to throw the man off balance just slightly and relieve himself of the weight of his body, before rolling to the left. He’d have a clear view of the pair now, though this new ground would need to be defended. Embers raining down from his fingertips, he felt the flames flicker between each digit, coiling into a hot, bright flame out of pure anticipation. @lainetallis​

[andrewxwhitmore]

leon-duval:

lainetallis:

While the pair of men yelled at each other up the stairs, Laine forced herself to focus, sure that if she kept getting distracted, she’d end up killing herself and Léon with a simple mistake, and the idea made her skin crawl more than watching the other woman’s form flicker in and out of existence. She’d never seen something like this before and cursed herself briefly for shunning most anything magical–Lucian or Corrina might have read about this, but she was at a loss. Another quick few tendrils of electricity directed at the other woman kept her at bay, but the focus it required kept her distracted long enough for the second attacker’s ball of fire to make contact with the lower part of her leg. She shrieked and stumbled to the ground, tears springing to her eyes as she looked up, then flicked her wrist in his direction and sent another thick bolt of electricity in his direction. It went painfully wide, but it sent a shower of crumbled cement in his direction.

In that time, the other woman had advanced again, once more appearing out of nowhere with a knife drawn. Laine dodged and pushed her back with another quick, powerful gust of wind, then scrambled to her feet. For now, the woman seemed solid again, and so the witch flicked another few small bolts of electricity in her direction, and the one that hit her once again caused pain to flash across her face as her form flickered once more. @leon-duval​

The Duval witch was surprised, but more so irritated that he had been associating with the enemy for so long. Could he even call Drew an acquaintance anymore? Léon could see that the other man’s attention was focused on his cousin. In fact, Drew seemed to manage his flames with ease, while Léon had difficulty putting out the other’s attacks. It seemed like an unfavorable match, knowing that he had to play it smart without his own blows backfiring.

He strained as he tried to stop the flames aimed at Laine’s feet, but Léon was too slow to dissipate all of the flames. Hearing his cousin’s cry of pain made the Duval witch even more furious. At this point, he had completely disregarded the other attacker and had his sights set on Drew. Léon didn’t know what he was, but if his flames were so easily manipulated, then perhaps… Without a second thought, he began rushing up the stairs, trying his best to quell the flames that sprung up from the attacker’s feat. Léon pounced, attempting to tackle the other man. If he could just get his hands on him, regardless of the burns he was sure to endure, it would make things a little easier.

@andrewxwhitmore​

In a life before, the sound of a woman’s scream would’ve unnerved him, or sprung him into action at her defense. But Laine Tallis was no ordinary woman, and Andrew felt no remorse at the sound of her pain. Instead, a genuine smile widened on his lips, though it was short lived. He anticipated the shock before it made a sound, though it didn’t make direct contact with him in the end. He scurried back, avoiding the weight of the shattered slabs of concrete falling from the ceiling. He could’ve laughed at his luck in the near miss, though this too faded in an instant as he felt a body collide with his own. Léon.

“Get the hell off me,” he yelled, trying to push the man away. He tried to persuade the fire on his heels to inch closer to the man, though the effort of the struggle made this increasingly difficult. He didn’t want to hurt him, not any more than could be helped, but it seemed like that would be impossible. God only knew how the witch was coping with the heat of the phoenix’s skin. From the angle, he couldn’t see the girls - he could only hope that Fox was holding her own, though the second this thought crossed his mind he knew it was more than likely wishful thinking. “This has nothing to do with you,” he spat at the man.

@lainetallis​

[andrewxwhitmore]

leon-duval:

lainetallis:

She only could have looked away for an instant, she figured, certainly not enough time for the mystery woman to advance on her like that. It was as though she’d vanished into thin air, only to reappear nearby. Laine managed to catch her out of the corner of her eye and sidestepped as the woman lunged with a knife. Shock drew a gasp from the witch’s lips and she grabbed the metal railing of the staircase. At her side, she felt the heat of the burning rug dissipate greatly and assumed Léon managed to dampen it, only to realize another ball of flame hurtled at her from the next landing up.

“What the fuck!” the witch shrieked as she barely managed to dodge the fire. Her gaze lifted to the man on the stairs, who now seemed focused on her as well. A spike of anger sent a familiar sensation through her arms and out of her fingertips. Six brilliant bolts of electricity arced from her hands, each making contact with the railing or the wall or a light fixture with a deafening crack. It seemed to be enough to stay the woman with the knife, a distraction, and so Laine turned and launched one more jagged ribbon of energy directly at her. She managed to land the hit, and the impact of the bolt knocked her assailant down the next small flight of stairs. Even still, however, she stood, but her form seemed to flicker like an old television not quite tuned to the correct station. Her mind worked quickly as electricity crackled between her fingertips, a familiar and terrifying feeling at the same time.

“Can you keep him busy? Just– just off me,” she said, looking to her cousin. The man who hurled the fireball at her seemed more interested in her than Léon at this point, and there was no way she could survive trying to guard herself on two fronts. @leon-duval​

Blinking in surprise, Léon looked up in time to see his attack dissolving right in front of the other man. The witch moved up the stairs, nodding curtly to Laine at her request. “You don’t have to ask me twice,” he said firmly, growling as he flicked open his lighter, already generating another swarm of flames. In the midst of it, Léon stared up at the man in the staircase. The Duval witch paused, his eyes widening in surprise. “…Drew?!”

Without another second of hesitation, he released his own flames at the man, already bounding up the stairs to keep him distracted from Laine. “What the hell, man?!” Now that he thought about it, Léon could sense something different about his friend, but it wasn’t anything that he had experienced before in his life. “What are you doing?!”

@andrewxwhitmore​

A grin curled the corners of Drew’s mouth at the sight of the jagged streaks of pure electricity radiating from the girl. So she was a Tallis after all. “That’s what I’m talking about!” In another setting, for another person, he would’ve burst into applause then and there, but there was something slightly warped about his amusement in this context. He should’ve been terrified, but a part of him was thrilled that the stakes had increased, that there was more to her than the passive attack of a windstorm. This was active energy, targeted and deliberate. He just wished it wasn’t directed at Fox. She was a real pain in the ass when injured.

The man was also proving to be an annoyance. Of course he was defending her. He couldn’t decide what offended him more, the fact that he’d jumped so readily to her rescue or that he believed his intervention was necessary, that the other witch couldn’t handle this on her own. His eyes locked on the Tallis and the shade - a shade and electricity? Had the girl encountered one before? - as he made his way back down the stairs towards the three. While his initial plan had been to retreat, Fox could never leave a good fight. But the sudden calling of his name stunned him. His skin bristled with heat, he turned in time to see the flames the other man produced - no, produced was the wrong word, he realized with a blink. This power clearly did not originate with Léon - for him, the fire appeared to be a tool, something he could warp and manipulate.

"Qu'est-ce que tu penses?” he spat at his acquaintance in an automatic wave of the other man’s native tongue. “Don’t ask stupid questions.” He coaxed the flames into changing direction, landing in a narrow strip just below his feet. It followed at his heels as he continued his descent down the stairs. Léon. Léon Duval. Of course, how had he been so dumb? They were family, that explained why he’d jumped to her defense. He extended his hand once more, heat flickering around his skin. A momentary wave of comfort engulfed the phoenix, though the flame quickly sprung forth once more, aimed at the girl’s feet. She’d been an easier target if immobilized, even temporarily. Removing the distraction that was her cousin from the situation was priority one, he realized begrudgingly, through any non-lethal means necessary. Another black man would not die at his hands.

@lainetallis​

[andrewxwhitmore]

leon-duval:

lainetallis:

Even as her cousin tried to get her to explain, Laine remained silent, her mind reeling through the worst potential outcomes if they didn’t catch up. When they hit the stairwell, she finally turned and looked up at him. “I heard her, she slipped–she works for them,” she said, her words tumbling from her lips in a frenzied string slurred together by nerves and fear. 

What do you mean you fucked up? The blonde looked up and spotted the pair and began after them as fast as she could, suddenly glad for spending years teaching herself to run and climb through whatever strange obstacle course a city could provide her. Half way up the stairs, bright, hot flames engulfed what was once a rug and made the witch stop. Instinctively, she raised a hand to quell the flames but found they fought her more than usual. Fire wasn’t her forte, especially not where control was concerned. She looked up again to see the woman and now a man quickly scaling the stairs. “I can’t put it out!” she yelled back at Léon. She skirted the flames the best she could, unable to completely pass but managed to get a visual on a door a landing up. With a hard swat of her arm, the door slammed open directly in the path of the fleeing pair accompanied by a gust of wind with the power of a tornado that lasted for a split second. Even though the ferocity was short-lived, the witch still managed to maintain a localized windstorm near the two, the door slamming closed again thunderously as she fought to keep them on the next landing up. @leon-duval​

Being a man of little thought and more one of action, that was all he needed to know. There were very few things that ‘them’ could have stood for, and with the desperation in his cousin’s voice, Léon didn’t have to ask twice about their pursuit. Something was wrong and the people they were chasing were the cause of it.

Only a few steps behind Laine, Léon paused at the burning rug before them. He was already trying to quell the flames, but the Tallis witch had already pressed on. Cursing under his breath in French, the Duval struggled to quell the flames before him. For some reason, it was harder to control, as though the flames were bursting with life, eager to burn everything around it. Finally, Léon had swept up some of the flames into a small, orbiting sphere of heat. Glancing up to see his cousin keeping the two strangers one floor above them, the witch threw the orb of flames at them, already moving up the stairs following his attack.

@andrewxwhitmore​

The wind took the air from Drew’s lungs. He glanced around the best he could, trying to determine the shade’s location, before it clicked. Shadow stepping. He’d never gotten used to that. Though the Tallis seemed less of a threat than some of her siblings, he’d been a fool to ever doubt the power of the magic that coursed through her veins, though she didn’t seem adept at utilizing the full potential of that power. He was almost disappointed.

A ball of fire came hurling at him, though he didn’t flinch from the familiarity of it. With a flash of his eyes, the flames dissipated inches from his face, falling away like mist. While his initial response would’ve been one of retaliation, he was single-mindedly focused on the girl before him. His eyes flashed once more, a flame flickering on his palm, growing hot and bright before he set it free, aimed at the blonde witch.

@lainetallis​

[andrewxwhitmore]

leon-duval:

lainetallis:

She wasn’t supposed to hear that. Amid the roar of happy, drunk party-goers, she heard Ouroboros. The word itself wasn’t a hugely uncommon one and given the large number of supernatural attendees she’d seen already, conversation about the shadow organization was probably still a hot topic. Regardless, it caught the witch’s attention and she turned towards the speaker. A few feet away, she spotted the source of the voice and watched, only to meet the gaze of the woman who apparently said it. Both stared for a second, and judging by the sudden tension in the other’s body, she realized she’d been made by a Tallis witch. The woman turned and headed away, her pace brisk but not fast enough to cause alarm, but the damage was done.

There was no way Laine could let her go, not with this many people here and the potential for so many–her family included–to get hurt. Adrenaline spiked in her system and she felt as though she might vibrate right out of her own skin. Laine arrived at the party by herself with the intent of finding her friends and family sometime throughout the night, but now a sense of urgency fueled her actions as she pushed through the crowd to keep an eye on the woman and hopefully find a sibling or a cousin. Somebody. Anybody.

Thankfully, Léon’s pink shirt and height made him easy to pick out, and the second she did, she grabbed his arm tightly. “We’ve gotta go, Léon– there’s– right now, we gotta go,” she said, practically dragging her cousin behind her as she made a bee-line in the direction the woman headed, strong-arming people aside as she did so. @leon-duval @andrewxwhitmore

Léon was still enjoying a simple glass of champagne before he felt his arm being tugged on. Blinking in surprise, the Duval witch turned to see his cousin grabbing him tightly. “Mon cherie,” he exclaimed quickly. “At least let me finish my drink yeah?” he chuckled, before the light-hearted nature in his eyes quickly faded at the urgency in Laine’s voice. Something was wrong. Very wrong. The man quickly set down his glass, nodding a curt goodbye to the people he was originally speaking with, before he was whisked away by Laine. As they continued bumping into people left and right, Léon made no sort of apology, only moving quickly to keep up with his cousin.

“Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas, Laine?” he said firmly. He followed her line of sight to a woman further up ahead of them, also pushing people aside as she made a beeline towards the stairs. Whoever she was, his cousin seemed to think she was important enough to follow, so Léon didn’t give it much thought other than making sure Laine was safe. “Who is that woman?” he asked as they reached the entrance to the stairs. The Duval pushed open the door quickly, hurrying in after Laine.

There were sharp clicks of the other woman’s shoes heading up the stairs, echoing throughout the more narrow space. Léon didn’t expect this party to involve him chasing after someone, but it wasn’t like he was entirely enjoying the whole costume array anyways. Quickly bounding up the stairs, Léon continued to follow Laine in their hot pursuit of this woman.

@andrewxwhitmore​

Andrew had just been looking for a place to escape. It wasn’t that he found events like this overwhelming; if anything, they proved insufferably dull. He had no desire to spend time with anyone who found alcohol and a late bedtime to be the height of indulgence. So yes, it would be safe to say he experienced a mild irritation at the sound of footsteps on the staircase in which he’d hidden himself. As he looked up to chastise the shade for disturbing him, the look on her face gave him pause along with the breathless words that emerged from her lips.

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean, you fucked up?” But before there was time for a response, another clatter echoed up from the bottom of the stairs. He sprang to his feet, peering down, though he already could feel the magic radiating from their bodies. Witches. A flash of blonde hair confirmed it; the eldest Tallis girl, and someone else - a sibling? A Vale? He couldn’t tell from this angle. Whatever the case, they were headed straight for them. He could feel the heat rising in his skin with anger, though whether this was a result of the actions of Fox or the sight of the witches, he couldn’t be sure. This was not part of the plan. No matter what action they took now, Susannah wouldn’t be happy.

“The things I do for you,” he sighed, as the rug on the landing beneath his feet ignited. It would only be a temporary delay, he knew - she’d just had to attract the attention of witches, hadn’t she? - but it was better than nothing. He jogged up the stairs, following closely behind Fox. They could slip into a room, find a back exit - all they had to do was make it to the next door, two more flights up.

@lainetallis

[andrewxwhitmore]

Andrew Whitmore | 70s at The Beekman

[andrewxwhitmore]

yael-jacobs:

“Both is allowed,” Yael nodded, handing over the coffee, “but not dying is also a good goal for the afternoon. What’re you reading?” she asked, taking the seat opposite him with a curious look at the tome open before him.

A short laugh escaped. “Right, yeah. Just gotta take it one step at a time, I guess.” At her question, his gaze drifted down to the text. “This? Pedagogy of the Oppressed. It’s a reconsideration of education from a Marxist perspective in the Global South.”

@yael-jacobs​