शरारत

shararat ; mischief avi. wolf. twenty-seven.

[aviofhorizons]

Name: Avinash “Avi” Abbas Hassim Occupation: Club promoter Age: 27 Sexuality: Bisexual Pronouns: He/him Species/Affiliation: Werewolf / Shuck Hometown: Eden Ros Relationship Status: Single Personality Traits: (+) Charming, Resolute, Amiable (-) Mischievous, Hedonistic, Arrogant

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BIO.

The Hassims have been rumored to belong to Cailleach for generations. The pack’s archives are littered with their family crest and name, yet very little of their history has ever been confirmed plainly in writing. Most of it survives through stories passed down by Hassim elders. The stories claimed their history began the moment they stepped onto Scottish soil, newly immigrated with nothing more than their name and what they could carry in their bags.

Their numbers were small in the beginning, even smaller after losing their only heir in a conflict with another faction. Heirless and hopeless, arrangements were made for the family to be absorbed into the newly formed Cailleach pack. The leader decided the Hassims had suffered enough at the hands of their own ambition. Some protested, but survival won out.

Their remaining resources went towards rebuilding their ranks, accumulating wealth, and embedding themselves into the city. Overtime, the Hassims became staunch believers in Cailleach doctrine. Containment above all else. The Wound was dangerous. The Wound needed control.

Generations later, their youngest son greedily drinks from the sopils of all that restraint, loudly and mockingly.

Though born Cailleach, Avi never carried himself the way he was meant to. He'd rather indulge himself like Dionysus incarnate than train or concern himself with pack politics. As the baby of his family, he was able to hide in the shadows of his elders, including his siblings, and live as he wished. He didn't care much for Cailleach beliefs, but he didn't challenge them either. For as long as his status and lifestyle remained the same, he stood for nothing other than his own whims.

While everyone else learned discipline and restraint with the Wound, Avi learned exactly how far he could push before someone snapped at him for it. Lycanthropy was a burden for others. For him, it was freedom. He loved being a wolf, loved the hunger of it, adored the recklessness of it all. Mischief followed him everywhere. Parties, flirtations, scandals that left older wolves pinching the bridge of their noses in frustration. You name it, he probably did it and more.

Eventually, his family did whate very desperate brown parent before them has done: they sent him away to boarding school and hoped the distance would fix him.

First it was some obscenely expensive boarding school in the Americas. Then England for university. Avi spent more time in clubs and other people's beds than in lecture halls. He never finished his degree, yet somewhere in his father's office there's still a plaque with his name on it collecting dust. The Hassims, after all, could not possibly have an uneducated son. When Avi finally came home, he was older, prettier, and somehow even less interested in behaving.

Then he fell in love. Hard. It was the kind of love that made a guy feel stupid enough to believe he's special. Invincible, even. One desperation led to another, and Avi turned him.

He knew the Wound wasn’t meant to be spread, but some naive part of him believed Cailleach would make an exception for their darling son. What better reason was there to break rules than love? But the Wound was still the Wound, and love did not excuse spreading it.

Avi was exiled and his lover took his place in the pack. Their relationship fell apart and so did Avi.

At first, he lingered anyway. Reached back out towards the people who raised him, hoping they'd eventually soften. He held onto his dead relationship and the remains of his family with everything he had. At first, it was cold shoulders. Then came threats. Open hostility. Avi never let up, never stopped pushing back. He preferred that over being invisible.

And if Cailleach already considered him a disgrace, then fine. He’d become one completely.

One turning became two - part rebellion, part spite, but most of all, hurt.

He's in Shuck now, with no real plan or path forward beyond surviving so loud his name and heart are never pushed aside again.

MISC HEADCANONS.

Avi hates being alone and has built his entire life around avoiding it. He couch surfs more often than not, jumping between friends, hookups, anyone willing to let him linger after the night is over. He probably hasn’t spent a night completely alone in over a decade.

Biladi is probably the only living thing Avi has ever loved without complication. Avi has been drinking, as he always does, and find the little guy in the alley of a club. Avi shared a plate of nachos and that was enough for the pup to decide Avi's his guy. Since his exile, Avi's mother takes care of Biladi for the most part, but Avi manages to visit when no one is paying attention.

Avi's a pretty good night promoter. He's irresponsible in a lot of ways and areas but one thing he doesn't play about is throwing a good fucking party.

CONNECTIONS & PLOTS.

[aviofhorizons]

who: @kibble-and-kickflips where: edge of town, woods, not too long ago

When Avi isn't out getting drunk or keeping someone ~company~, he's usually out in the woods. He doesn't like being alone, in fact he would say he hates it. But with the earth beneath his paws and the moon high in the sky, is he really alone? He doesn't think its that simple when you're a wolf.

He's just out for a run, cutting through the trees at a fairly decent speed, snapping branches underfoot and scattering birds from their perches. He's just about to approach the usual absolutely fucking not zone, but before he can turn around to head back, he catches the scent of a boy ahead. Decidedly human. Avi slows, watches from the shrubbery. He assumes the boy will turn back. People usually do at this point. The boy does not, in fact, turn back.

Holy fuck, does this guy not have any self-preservation?

Avi's ears wiggle in irritation. To the left, the woods lean towards fae nonsense that might just break his brain in half. To the right, solid Cailleach territory, aka asshole central. Not exactly safer, either.

Brilliant, he thinks, as he purposefully walks into a shrub in an attempt to alarm the human, to give him a proper signal that he should really turn back. His lips peel back from his teeth and a low growl rolls out of him, right from the base of his chest.

Be afraid, dumbass. Turn around! Go be human somewhere else!

[moss-ontherocks]

[open starter] when: june 26, 2026, any time after 6pm where: Rose-Tinted Pint Glasses, 1 year anniversary celebration

Friday night meant Kevin's choice of movie -- The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring, extended edition -- was playing on one of the tavern televisions, captions on and volume low. Retro beeps and boops intermittently pierced the space, occasionally audible over the grumble and hum of conversation. If you wanted a traditional Scottish pub experience, you would not find it at Rosie's.

Still, Morgan was grateful they'd managed to stay in business for a whole year now, keeping her nights occupied and her family fed and housed. That wasn't insignificant. So to thank the community, and acknowledge the modicum of success she'd found, Morgan was hosting a small anniversary celebration this week at Rosie's. Thankfully, it looked like it was drawing guests new and old (and all at least 18 years of age).

"Hiya," the bartender smiled at the patron approaching the bar. Her recitation of the special deal was a little practiced, she'd already said it several dozen times in the last day or so. "Snacks and mixed cocktails are 15% off, and every order gets a free arcade token for the games. It's a pound if you want five more tokens. Just let me know what I can get for you."

[aviofhorizons]

Avi's looking and behaving relatively profesh today. All black, sticking to the edges, lingering in the back, while patrons go in and out - as any decent planner would.

The thing is, Rosie's isn't his usual type of haunt. He's more of a club party guy, not a sit at the bar and eat peanuts guy. So...he's a little bored but also isn't willing to put this event in jeopardy with his usual brand of chaos.

A patron walks up to Morgan. Avi watches as he orders the most boring drink known to man, a vodka soda with no lime and light ice, and Morgan goes through the motions.

Once she's finished, he moves in.

By the time Avi reaches the bar, he's acquired a clipboard from somewhere behind it. A plan, that he also snagged, is balanced between his fingers, and his expression is one of grave professionalism as he scans the page like it contains information that could make or break the entire evening.

"Right," he says, clicking the pen once. "The crowd is crowding. The drinks are drinking. The snacks are snacking. Aaaand I see the arcade tokens are encouraging poor financial decisions, I love to see it."

He makes a very official-looking check mark against nothing in particular. Then he looks up at Morgan, as serious as anyone's seen him.

"So all that's left is the strippers." He pauses, pen hovering over the clipboard. "Will five be enough?" His brows furrow, as if this is a genuinely real logistic to consider here. "I was thinking three by the Fellowship, one by the bar, maybe one by the machines? For ambience, of course." Another click of the pen. "Unless you wanna be tasteful about it, in which case I can send a girl home and bring it down to four." He wants to cackle so badly, but he reigns it in.

[aviofhorizons]

who: @visioncursed where: jamie's couch, evening, a few days after the solstice jubilee

Avi doesn't pay rent at Jamie's place (or anywhere, actually), yet he lets himself in as if he does.

By the time he reaches her couch, he looks like he's narrowly escaped the one thing far far worse than death itself: responsibility. Planning the one year anniversary celebration for Rose-Tinted Pint Glasses has taken something from him, something precious, something that won't be returned until he's had at least three drinks.

He drops onto Jamie's couch, one arm flung over his eyes. He kicks his shoes off, then shifts until he's sprawled across the cushions, taking up far more space than one guest should.

Then, as if it communicates everything he desires to, he lets out a loud, tired, and long groan, muffled by his arm.

[aviofhorizons]

who: @aboywithacane where: annual solstice jubilee, bonfire

Avi's pretty observant when it benefits him (which is...always.) He's good at it, he's good at noticing things. It is one of his more harmless talents, really. He notices good tailoring, bad tattoos, someone's drink order when they think no one's paying attention.

Unfortunately for Kevin, Avi notices him.

He'd noticed him years ago, too, back in Santa Cruz, when Avi was still at boarding school, and Kevin was the hot college guy who came home every now and then. Now, Eden Ros just keeps putting Kevin in his path. In fact, hadn't Avi just seen him the other day?

This time, thankfully, they aren't just passing faces in a crowd. Kevin is close enough to talk to, so Avi does what Avi does best. He steps into Kevin's path, feigning shock.

"Kevin! First California," he says, clicking his tongue softly. "Now on my home turf? For, what, the fourth...fifth time? C'mon, we have to stop meeting like this." His voice drops down to a whisper and he leans in close. "A guy might start to think you're stalking him."

Before Kevin can respond, he looks at Saturn as if she's called out to him. "Hold on," he says, putting a finger up to Kevin before kneeling down to her level, offering his ear to her. He gets a wet willy as a reward, and she gets a scrunched up face in return. But he nods his head, like he understands, throws in a few 'mhm, mhm' for good measure. Once he's had enough, he stands and wipes his ear with an amused grimace. "She....clearly had a lot to say. She said she agrees with me. She also said if you're not stalking me, you're gonna have to let me down easy. She sensed the state of my ego, and I fear she's right. It's a little fragile these days."

[aviofhorizons]

who: open where: annual solstice jubilee, morning dip

The morning dip seemed like a good idea about an hour ago. Very fun, very whimsy, even. Nice crowd, vendors setting up, hot coffee on the horizon? All he needs is a warm pastry and he's set.

Except...after frolicking in the sea, he stands at the edge of the surf, a shiver beginning to set in, and staring at the empty patch of sand where his things should be. No shirt, no towel, no shoes?

He knows exactly who the culprit is and he wonders what crime he's committed this time. Had it been the Love Island commentary? In his defense, not everyone has the discipline to explain six different interpersonal disasters over a pint. Had he taken his shirt off too often this week? Had he finished off her last bottle?

His list of possible offenses is endless, it seems, so he folds his arms over his chest and scans the shoreline for the nearest person. Warmth first, revenge later. "Morning!" he calls out, tries to hide the slight tremor because he's not a wimp. "I don't suppose you have any uh...clothes or anything to spare, do you? A towel? I'll pay you back, trust." His smile tightens painfully as another gust of wind hits him.