ansel leyman; 23; werewolf.
I should read more poetry and i should read more novels! and if i did would you believe i was aristotle? i'm platonic for you 'cause i'm startin to smarten up.
when: march 16th
where: milo’s mansion
who: @anseleyman
as much as milo tried to push ansel from his mind over the winter, he seemed to keep returning to their shared days. he tried to pinpoint where everything had gone mwrong, what caused the other to simply drop off the face of the earth. he missed ansel, and that was all there was to it. when his phone buzzed on his nightstand, milo didn’t expect it to be ansel. soon, he found himself inviting his friend over. maybe he didn’t deserve an explanation, but he did miss the man more than he would like to admit.
he found himself pacing around the living room, wondering what any of this meant. no one ever made him this nervous, but then again, he’d never really been ghosted before. if that’s even what you could call it. tensing at the knock at the door, he went to go let ansel in. “hey,” he said as he opened the door, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips when he saw ansel on his porch. even after all these months, it was nice to see him again. stepping aside so ansel could step in, he tried to think of something, anything to say that didn’t sound accusatory. after all, ansel didn’t owe milo anything, right? “so, uh, what have you been up to?” he finally said, a twinge of sadness in his voice.
the house was, well, somewhat familiar. still it stood intimidatingly before him as he rummaged through his brain for what he was going to say. hey? sorry for disappearing for three months! ansel didn’t have an explanation, it wasn’t exactly the first thing on his mind while he was freaking the fuck out in the winter. it was more like, what do i eat? where do i sleep? holy fuck i’m a wolf sort of thoughts that were going through his head.
when the door opened, it kind of felt like his heart was bouncing around his ribcage. he never expected to be invited over or even receive a test back, but here milo was. “not much,” what kind of stupid answer was that? “just had to go back home for a few months, family stuff.” and he decided to add a lie on top of the already ridiculous answer? he was digging himself into a hole he probably wouldn’t be able to crawl out of. “but how have you been?”
“It’s okay,” Grey says. “I’m sorry I woke you up. I was worried you were sick or dead. I’m glad that you aren’t either.” They wouldn’t really have known what to do with a dead person in the middle of the town square, and the only person good at making people feel better that Grey knows is Hutch and they’ve only ever seen him treat animals or wolves, never humans. “Are you waiting to watch one of the big tvs inside?”
“No, no. Didn’t need to be sleepin’ anyway.” Ansel says, making his way to stand up. He didn’t mention how he got the sick or dead thing or lot, he did seem to have a chronic case of The Suds. Not his fault, especially as of late. His sleep schedule had been severely impacted by recent happenings. He scoffed a little bit at the wording, but smiled and nodded regardless. “Yeah, downtime between the movies is a little longer than I’m used to.”
“Oscar’s taking his break in the alley right now, so I think you’re safe for a little while longer.” Nora quirks an eyebrow at the youth sprawled out on the bench. She should have just minded her own business and continued waiting for the theater to open, but that isn’t Nora’s style. Plus, there’s something familiar about the man in front of her. Nora doesn’t know if it’s her mind playing tricks on her or if she’s seen his face before.
“You doing okay out here?”
“eh, not like he would do me any harm.” he feels all of his joints pop with the few movements he makes. wow, he didn’t realize how long he may have been laying there. “yeah, i’m doing just fine.” he made an attempt to fix his hair. “what’s it to ya?”
When: early November
Where: parking lot behind Twilight Cinema
Who: @anseleyman·
Milo’s used to the awkward texts by now. He’s used to the town needing a little something to get through the winter; the long, dark season that hangs over Blackrock with such an oppressive force. With everything happening in town, this winter may just be the worst yet. It did surprise him, however, to see a familiar name pop up on the screen. He’d found Ansel on Instagram, years after he moved away. He seemed to have quite the following in his own circles, worlds away from the tiny little town Milo seemed to never be able to escape. It did surprise him, though, to see that he was back in town.
Milo sent his normal meeting place to his old friend; the parking lot behind the movie theater. The managers had to know what he was up to, but no one seemed to care. He sat on the curb, fiddling with his phone as he waited for the other to arrive, one Airpod in his ear. Hearing the footsteps, he turned to see Ansel approaching. “Long time no see, eh?” he said with a smile, nodding his head in a gesture to come join him.
Ansel tries to stay home at night in a foolish attempt to not get himself into any trouble. This is not at all what he was thinking about when he climbed on his bike and made his way over to the Twilight Cinema. A few direct messages through Instagram seemed to give him some sort of purpose for being in town, even if he so badly wanted to go home. Seeing people he knew around usually filled him with dread, but there weren’t many negative memories associated with Milo at all. In fact, quite the opposite. They used to be the best of friends. There wasn’t any dread he could feel as he parked his bike on the side of the theater.
“Long time, no see.” He echoed, with a smile on his face. And maybe there was a bit of fear that creep his way into his bones. He was a completely different person than the last time Milo saw him. It didn’t seem to shock Milo at all though, so he made his way over to sit on the curb. “Not the usual side of the theater I find myself hanging around, y’know.”
“I thought that was you,” Sara replies, smiling down at Ansel from where he lay on the bench. Seeing a movie alone was one thing– Sara finds it rather therapeutic, actually– but sleeping in the lobby of the theater was something else entirely. She stifles a laugh as Ansel sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. She hasn’t been his babysitter in over a decade, but she supposes some things– some people– never really change.
“Comfortable?” Sara asks, a curious eyebrow raised. “What’re you doing, sleeping in the movie theater?”
“Always comfortable.” Ansel says, smiling at the sound of a familiar and friendly voice approaching. He’s sure he would be able to recognize Sara from miles away. “Just waitin’ for the next movie to start, got here a little too early.” Where else was he going to bum around anyway? The coffee shop wasn’t exactly his scene and a little too busy during daylight hours. “And this is definitely not the first time I’ve done it.”
“–– Nah, that’s fine; I’m sorry if I startled you,” Declan said, all-too-aware that he looked like fucking Slenderman while traversing the interior of Twilight Cinema – he’d left his wallet behind, and the usher had let him back in. “Thought I’d ask you if you’d seen my wallet. Didn’t realize you were asleep until I was standing right here.” Declan’s brows furrowed together for a brief moment as he studied the other. Why’d he look so familiar… ?
“.. Sorry, have we met before? Feel like I know you from somewhere.”
Ansel looked over his shoulder, hoping to maybe notice the lost wallet from his unique angle. Sadly there was nothing but presumably stale popcorn and a wet appearance that probably lent itself to spilled soda. “No wallet that I can see.” He says before sitting up and stretching. He feels the all too familiar popping of his back as he lifts his arms up over his head. Hairs on the back of his neck bristled, but he quickly brushed it off and answered the question. “Uh, no. Don’t think so. ‘m sort of new in town.”
status: open to everyone
location: twilight cinema, early november
All of his bones ache. That he knows for sure, even if Ansel is one for dramatics. He lays out dramatically on the bench, the smell of popcorn and dust saturating the air. Not one smell was more familiar, and it was just faint enough to not make him nauseous. He would nap here if he could, but some movie theater attendant was not happy with him last time. Plus Twilight Cinema was his favorite spot to get away, so he couldn’t risk the threat of getting an unneeded banned for life punishment. He feared that may be coming true as he felt a presence loom over him. “I know Oscar, I know.” Ansel, as graceful as ever, rubs his eyes as he sits up. “I’m not sleepin’, just waitin’ for the theater to- Oh.” He stops in his tracks. It wasn’t the old usher standing in front of him. “Sorry, thought you were someone else.”
ANSEL LEYMAN is a twenty three year old who has found himself back home in Blackrock, Montana. He is a trans man who uses he/him pronouns, and was bitten before winter starter. Transformations as a werewolf are still painful and going it alone leaves him with few avenues to get real answers.
+ earnest, routine oriented, easy going
- oblivious, disorganized, easily deterred
esfp, chaotic neutral.
tw: mentions of drugs, alcohol.
HISTORY
ansel sat cross-legged on the plush carpet as he read the chronicles of narnia. it reminded him of his grandparents house, the ones who leave near the base of the mountains. he likes visiting them well enough, even if his parents had to beg him to get into his formal clothes. the mary janes with those annoying little straps hurt his feet terribly. that’s what all of elementary school was like for him. sit quietly and read his books, attends his piano lessons, in the spring he has dance recitals. he likes the things that he does even and hasn’t really thought of doing anything different. it’s not like there were strict rules besides the dress code. his parents never snapped at him or stood over his shoulder. and at that age, he had no concept of freedom. wanted nothing more than what he already had.
it carried on like this until middle school. a scene phase later, his parents were packing up and moving them to california. he would say nothing of note happened there, but within three months he realized there was more to music than classical piano. he begged his parents to go to performing arts school and they allowed it, making all the arrangements. he came out as trans at sixteen. he was able to transition. high school was as normal as it could be.
and then he decided djing would be the way. he had the equipment set up in the basement of his parents architecturally questionable house. with his high school connections he played some questionable parties for rich assholes. and then he got recommended to another, and another, and he released an EP. he released an album. he’s not the most famous dj on the planet, but he’s known in particular circles. gone were the days of imagining that he could escape through a wardrobe in his grandparents house. he was going to pharm parties and getting to feel the music in his veins.
it’s not that he meant to get too self involved. he buried himself in his music and nothing much matter. his parents, he knew this is what they thought, thought he couldn’t fend for himself or manage to live on his own. they thought ansel was out of touch. it was hard to argue with them, he was often too agreeable. and you sounded like an asshole if you said you didn’t want to go visit your grandparents that you hadn’t seen in four years. it was simple enough to pack a small bag and fly out.
he didn’t know he wouldn’t be able to fly back.
afterall, he is alone. he can’t tell his grandparents of this new affliction. and he can’t think of anyone he trusts enough to not put him in danger. no one is there to give him any answers either. can he just wolf up in california? how would he explain it to his parents? he calls and tells them he will be staying longer. his grandparents don’t mind.
CONNECTIONS
how many questions can Ansel manage to ask [OPEN] before they realize something is up?
ansel can’t seem to stop lurking around [OPEN]’s place of employment, so much so that it’s concerning.
he keeps seeming to run into [OPEN], no matter how hard he tries not to.
i never forget anybody’s face! - milo whitegrass
all he remembers is tic-tac-toe on fancy napkins and getting scolded for running up the stairs too quickly. there’s not much fun to be had as an eight year old at ritzy events, but milo and him always managed. now that he’s back in town, he didn’t actually think he’d run into him. now they’re teetering on the line of boyfriends-not boyfriends-maybe boyfriends, and just when he found something good? this bite has made everything far more complicated.
and i say welcome to the family! - OPEN
ansel hasn’t been back to blackrock in a long time, but this person is always a constant. they’ve kept a lookout for his elderly grandparents, whether it be coming around every once in a while or maybe running the occasional errand. at this point they’re basically like extended family, but things have been different since he got back.
tl;dr: it’s the hannah montana movie but he’s a dj and before he got to have his finding himself arc he was turned into a werewolf idk what else to say
