Azra Yildiz, Witch, Shadowlake, Receptionist at Magnolia Inn, In Town 2 Months
Quick Facts:
Azra has the powers of Animal Telepathy, Botanical Communication, and Spirit Raising, so she can often be found talking to ghosts, plants, and animals and generally the non-human.
Azra was the child of a secret affair her mother had (unknowingly) with a witch, leading her to be the only one with powers in a human family. She therefore hid her abilities as best she could, though she quickly became known as the strange girl talking to "herself" in the halls at school (their high-school, it turned out, had quite a few ghosts around).
When she was nineteen, she ran away with a boy her mother disapproved of, breaking her mother's heart in the process. When that boy turned out to be a vampire, Azra finally learned about the supernatural world she had always been a part of.
She married that vampire and the two were happy for several years until on Valentine's, the hunters arrived and her husband was killed. Azra fled with her sister, and her husband's ghost helped them to find the sanctuary of Lunar Cove.
Possible Connections:
Refugees: Others who fled to Lunar Cove after the hunter attacks and are in the similar position of feeling out of place and unsafe.
Welcoming Committee: Someone who helped show Azra around after she arrived and has helped to make Lunar Cove feel like the sanctuary it is meant to be.
Neighbors: Azra has moved into Shadowlake and gets to know your muse around the neighborhood.
Pet Owners: Want advice on why your furry friend is feeling down? Azra is always ready to tell you what your pet is thinking--and which toy they really want.
Mourners: Whether you want to talk to a ghost, or you can just commiserate, Azra is a new widow and a spirit raiser here to cry into a donut by your side.
By all definitions, Azra had a happy childhood. It was the picture perfect image of a good life: white picket fence and loving parents, family game nights and weekend trips. They were as close as a family could be, she and her two big sisters, and their parents the model of a working marriage. Azra grew up knowing that she was loved, and she was happy--for a time. She was only eleven when it wall changed. Eleven when the mirage broke, when she learned the word 'changeling' and 'monster' and 'tricked.' Her sister fled that night, and Azra, crying into the shoulder of her only remaining sibling, listened to her parents arguing down the hall, their voices growing angrier and angrier, and waited for her big sister, Eda, to come back.
The years that followed were turbulent, their perfect image broken to pieces. Azra cried for days, asked her parents morning and night when Eda would be coming home, but they never answered, and soon they grew tired of the question, forbid her to talk about her ever again. But the pieces kept on tumbling apart. When Azra was twelve, walking to school with her sister, Safiye, they passed the cemetery just as they always did, and as always, the sight of all those graves sent a chill down Azra's spine. But this time, it was different. This time, she watched as the graveyard seemed to explode with activity, busier than she'd ever seen it. "What's happening?" she'd asked her sister. "Why is it so busy today?" But her sister had looked out at an empty cemetery. Another chip at the perfect picture.
Later that day, Azra readily greeted the new student in her middle school. She spent the day smiling and laughing, talking about the teachers, about boys they had crushes on. She could not understand why everyone kept staring at her, why they pointed and laughed. When their yearbook was released later on, she searched and searched for her friend but never found her picture. What she did find was a photograph of Azra at lunch, sitting alone. But her friend had been there, she was sure of it. They had sat side by side…hadn't they? And so, in confusion, another piece crumbled inside of her.
Azra had difficulty making friends after that. No one wanted to befriend the girl girl who was so often caught talking to herself in the halls of her high school, holding conversations with people who weren't there, as if she were talking to ghosts. Not to mention the way she'd run out of the room screaming and sobbing when they'd done animal dissections, or the rumors that she'd been caught talking to the frogs when she'd led them all to escape. Back home, the hole that their sister had left in their family was unescapable, but her parents tried to keep it together, to pretend like everything was alright. Her mother owned a flower shop, and working side by side, preparing bouquets for weddings and graduations and first dates, Azra felt truly alive and happy for the first time in years. Azra adored watching the flowers grow, and the older she got, the better she seemed at the job, as if the petals grew brighter under her touch, bloomed in her hands. A piece came back together then--for a time.
Azra was fifteen when the picture finally shattered entirely. The secret came out that her mother had cheated on her father years ago, that he was not, in fact, Azra's biological father. Her mother never knew that the man she'd had that affair with so many years ago was a witch, never knew that he had passed on such power to his daughter. After all, Azra had never told anyone what she could do. It was the last crack. Their perfect family was, once and for all, broken. Their parents divorced not long after, and Azra felt she had no choice but to go and live with her mother. Her mother had always leaned on her, always hovered, always seemed to rely on her so much. Safiye had already moved out, angry with the way their parents had handled everything, and she tried her best to be there for Azra, to help her escape their mother's nearly overwhelming shadow. But Azra was still a minor, and her mother rarely let her out of her sight.
When she could get away, Azra tried to visit their father, but he refused to see her, closed the door in her face. She was not his any longer but a living reminder of the way his wife had broken his heart. So their family of five was down to three. Azra soon graduated high school and attended college in their hometown. She continued to live with their mother, to be the good and obedient daughter, though she was persuaded from time to time to sneak out with Safiye. Those small glimpses of what life could be kept Azra sane, kept all that pent up energy inside her at bay, all the potential she was never allowed to let loose.
Then she met him, Rex. He was a coffin maker, death a part of his every day life. For Azra, he was danger incarnated, and it was love at first sight. Sheltered and desperate for attention, she jumped head first into the relationship and began to sneak out to see him, knowing her mother would never approve. She was nineteen and feeling more alive than she ever had before. They would stay out til four in the morning, dancing in the street. He drove her around town in his beat up little car, blasting music from the stereo, and he promised, one day, to show her the world. And then he told her a secret. He told her about the day he died. He told her that he was a vampire.
Here, finally, was proof that there was more to life than what she'd been shown. Proof that she wasn't crazy. Proof that there was real magic in the world. When her mother learned about her secret, undead boyfriend a year after they'd been together, she was furious. She forbid Azra from seeing him, and that night, they got into the first real fight they'd had in years. When it was over, Azra packed up her things, and she left, ending up at Safiye's door. A month later, they got the news that her mother had disappeared. The story went that she'd left town, gone to start a new life somewhere else, just like Eda. Azra blamed herself for losing another family member, but Rex told her again and again that it was not her fault, that her mother had been depressed long before the fight, that she had always put too much pressure on Azra, that she was better off without her. And so the family was down to two.
For the next few years, Azra lived with her big sister before eventually moving in with Rex. She took a job at a pet store, helping people find their forever animals; able to communicate with the creatures, she excelled at the job, and for a time, it was enough, watching people leave happily with their furry friends, chasing away her guilt by trying to make others happy. She saw her sister often, and she made real, living friends, never telling them of the ghosts she saw over their shoulders. She was with Rex for three years before he proposed, and they were married the year after. Safiye was her maid of honor.
She and Rex stayed home that Valentine's. A romantic dinner--Rex had cooked--and flowers as the centerpiece that Azra had helped to grow. Then the banging on their door began. "It's them," Rex had said. "Who?" she'd asked. "Who is them?" But he was putting money and their car keys into her hand and telling her to go. "I'll meet you here," he'd said, writing an address quickly on her palm. So Azra ran. She ran with nothing but the car and her purse and a promise that they would be together again soon. She went, of course, to her sister. When things went wrong, when danger came knocking, she had always gone to her sister. And by then, Safiye had her own reasons to run from the hunters. So the witch and the werewolf headed out for Lunar Cove, a town barely an hour away, but one that promised sanctuary for people like them.
They were halfway there when Azra looked to the rearview mirror and saw him: Rex, sitting in the backseat. For a moment, she was so excited to see him, she didn't wonder how he'd gotten there. Then she blinked, and he was gone. That was how she learned that her husband had died: when she saw his ghost. Azra has now been in Lunar Cove, living with her sister, for two months now, talking to ghosts, and once more, relearning the world, once more having to start over.
"No. It's really not," Jas whispered out, her body tensing as she felt the other Spirit Raiser grab her hand. Jas' instinct was to recoil from the touch, but when she turned to take in Azra's wide and hopeful eyes, Jasmine gave Azra's hand a quick squeeze back first, before pulling away. Moving to wrap her own arms around herself as she shook her head the smallest bit once more. "There is no saving him. He's going to die," She admitted quietly under her breath. Her voice all, but a soft whisper as she met Azra's gaze. "Whether we like it or not, that is his fate and... and mine. I, uh, I brought someone back from the dead. Once upon a time and that right there? That's the price," Her voice broke as she quickly adverted her gaze from where Julian laid gasping out for air a few feet away.
"Sorry, I-" She shook her head once more, willing her hands to stop shaking as she lifted her chin to meet the other woman's gaze. "We can help her though. We can perform a spell to expel the ghost from her body. But, we- we need to be able to focus. So, we should clear as many people out of here as possible. I can't- its hard to think with all of the noise," the telepath admitted, not only trying to still her racing and guilt-ridden heartbeat, but trying to simultaneously flush out all of the other thoughts in the room despite every inch of her being begging her to run and hide instead.
Azra looked from the woman in front of her to the dying man nearby, taking in that information and trying not to look look like it had just changed her entire understanding of the world. "You can bring back the dead?" she asked quietly. She thought of her husband--the man she had not even begun to try and mourn because he hadn't left her side since he'd died. If he could come back, if he could really come back and actually occupy his body again, be with her the way he used to be--but she watched this man, Julian, choking, watched the vampires converging on him. Azra broke down into sobs when she even accidentally stepped on an ant. She could never trade one life for another--could she?
But right now, none of that mattered. Azra shook away the racing thoughts and possibilities and instead nodded, focusing all her attention on Jasmine instead. "Okay," she said. "I'll do that. I can do that. You just focus on this." She gestured toward Dilan. "I'll be right there." She moved off and started clearing the room, trying to get as many people's attention as she could and start ushering them from the casino. When no one seemed incline to listen to her, she finally just yelled "Fire! Everyone get out!" and began bodily pushing people from the room, small hands pushing into the squares of people's backs or dragging them by the wrist.
"Well," Ben said, drawing out the word. He grinned. "Yes." He hoped it wasn't so bad of a place for the new transfers Having your entire life uprooted wasn't easy, he knew that. This couldn't be an easy journey; he just hoped that things around town were helping, at least a little. "Oh, there's plenty of dancing. Halloween masquerades and New Years' Eve celebrations. And there are clubs that offer it. But not that many dance competitions like this one. Why? Do you think we should have more?" He wasn't particularly focused on dancing, though, watching her eyes and glancing over his own shoulder to catch sight of Dilan when he got the chance. Azra's words chilled him. He wasn't going to argue with her and ask if she was sure. She seemed sure, and he knew that there were plenty of people out there that could see ghosts. "Okay, that... isn't good. Do you have experience with this type of situation? Know anything about what can be done?" He felt a little useless; here he was, leader of the Coalition, but he wasn't magic. He didn't have a clue what he should do to deal with a ghost.
"Oh, definitely. This town should be the opposite of Footloose. Dancing all the time." Azra gave a little shuffle, like something out of a 50's parody movie. "Dance away the stress. Dance the night away. Dance until you..." She'd run out of sayings. "Can't dance no more." She had been enjoying the night with Ben, comfortable with him--and the other humans of Lunar Cove--in a way she wasn't quite comfortable yet with the coven, though they were meant to be 'her people.' She was getting there, slowly dipping her toe into the sea of the supernatural, but as she now watched what was clearly a possession happening behind them, she was finding this 'dip' more like a plunge into the deep end without floaties. Her gaze, however, softened, temporarily distracted from the actual issue at hand. "You believe me?" she asked. Most people told her she was crazy, asked if what she was saying was some sort of joke, or if she was a con artist, trying to sell people the ability to talk to their dearly departed for 5.99 a minute. She shook off the awe as quickly as she could, however, and put on a determined face. "Yes. No. Yes and no. I have experience with ghosts. I have never seen one in a living body before and I don't know how to get it out, but I could start with asking it politely to vacate. I think I'll do that" She grimaced slightly; hearing it out loud, it didn't sound like the best idea. "I think I need to go over and help." She stopped dancing and let go of his shoulders. "I think it's time for us to lose? Thank you for dancing with me. You've been a really great partner. Okay. Um. Bye." She kissed his cheek then ran off as fast as she could in her heels to offer her assistance with the haunting.
At the heel breaking on his shoes she sighed with annoyance, why was this human so annoying. “My name is Elizabeth and this is my body.” She informed him once more. “Let me fucking god”trying to fight him as he basically had to drag her over to supreme who she had actively been avoiding on purpose.
Poppy has been refilling her punch glass when Chai and Dilan appeared next to her and she noticed Dilan struggling to get away from him. Raising an eyebrow at Chai as she tried to understand the situation at hand. “Hey to you too.” She greeted back, before putting down her cup. “Umm… yeah let me call Rohan and my sister for this. Ghosts are generally their thing not mine.” She told him as she pulled out her phone. “Do you think you can hold her until one or both of them can get here to assess the situation?”
@rohanxpersaudx @azraflowers @cantfightmoonlight (One of you or all of you want to tap in?"
"I'll manage, just, uh, hurry?" Chai offered up, not exactly wanting to give the ghost too much time to try to come up with an escape route while the coven was organizing.
After a minute or two, Jas wandered across the room. Her brows raised as she began to say, "Please tell me this text is joke and there isn't actually some ghost possessing- oh, shit," The necromancer's eyes widened as she turned to face Dilan, seeing the ghost that was clearly tethered to the pixie's body nearly immediately. "That ain't normal. And I'm here because you want me to what? Get rid of it or?"
@azraflowers & @rohanxpersaudx (guessing one of you is next?)
Azra had already been taken out of the running from this dance contest when the ghost in Dilan's body had tripped her with marbles. She was still wondering why the woman had even thought to bring marbles to a charity event in the first place and was hobbling to the drink table to try and procure some ice when she noticed the possessed pixie being dragged across the room to the witch supreme. Azra had been trying her best since coming to Lunar Cove to understand who everyone was and what was going on--she took detailed notes in her diary every night--but this night so far had been a more intensive pop quiz of who is who and who has which magic powers than she'd been expecting. Thanking the bartender and slapping the ice to her shoulder, she hurried over as fast as her broken heel and twisted ankle would allow. "I can help!" she offered. "She's not supposed to be there, right?" She was pointing at Dilan but seeing two very different people--the pixie standing in front of her, and the glimmer of the ghost that was possessing her. "I want to help." It would be her first exorcism, but how hard could it be, right?
"You know, this event specifically isn't really normal, but..." Ben trailed off, thinking. "I've been here awhile. It's always rather exciting. Sometimes... more than others. Sometimes, more harrowing than exciting. I'm hoping this isn't one of those times." He didn't know if he was jinxing things, though. He was trying to be confident, but a part of him was worried; this seemed incredibly out of character for Dilan. She could be dramatic, but this was a bit much. At Azra's words, he leaned in, concerned but open. "I've heard quite a few crazy things. There isn't much that I wouldn't believe."
Azra looked at him curiously. "Because we're raising money for supernatural people who have escaped evil hunters and are hiding out here?" She smiled wryly. She was one of those people, one of the people forced to pack up her whole life, leave all her belongings and job behind and come knocking at the preverbal doors of Lunar Cove. "Or do people here not usually dance?" As she moved from side to side, barely bothering to follow the beat anymore, Azra continued to look at Dilan and the chaos she was causing from a distance. She tapped her fingers uncomfortably against Ben's shoulder where her arms were slung around him in a parody of an awkward prom dance. "Okay. Here it goes. I--I'm pretty sure there's a ghost inside of her." She nodded toward Dilan. "I can see it. There's her, and then there's someone else. Someone dead." She waited, chewing on her bottom lip, to see if he'd believe her, to find out once and for all what the threshold of 'crazy' really was in this town.
They were startled nearly as badly as their customers when the mannequin toppled, and their apologies overlapped with Azra's, though at a volume so low they weren't sure it was audible to anyone without enhanced hearing. But she did fix it, and the tension released as she inspected the cloth.
“In this case, I'm okay with it. I made that—um, a long time ago.” Kui used to be a lot more precious about their creations and getting properly compensated, but they’d dropped some of that instinct on the path between life and death, they supposed, and hadn’t bothered to stop and pick it up again. The dress in question was one that had apparently not sold after their death, been put in storage, and then removed, updated, and put back out on the racks when they came back. The idea of it going for another thirty years unappreciated made their heart feel sore and bruised.
They peered at the stranger and then at her companion, hoping they weren't interrupting a date or something. But she seemed to need some convincing, and so Kui ventured a hesitant ask after a moment. “Though, I mean—if it's not too much trouble, maybe you could try it on? So I can be sure I'm not letting it go with some too-long hem or anything?” They glanced again between the two. "But it's alright, if you're busy."
Azra righted the mannequin, finally, and leaned against it, hand on her hip, and trying to look as casual as she possibly could after nearly knocking everything over and being caught talking to herself. Only, the person standing in front of her--the store owner? the designer?--wasn't looking at her like she was crazy. In fact, they seemed to be--Azra looked between the person and her husband's ghost and back again. Were they--were they looking at him too? "Do you see--are you--" She put her hand over her mouth as she tried to put together this information. Azra had never met anyone--not in Lunar Cove or beyond it--that could see ghosts like she could. She lowered her voice and leaned in close. "Can you see him too?" Beside her, the ghost she happened to be married to put out his hand for the designer to shake. "Stop acting like you're tangible," Azra hissed to him. "Sorry about him," she added to the designer. "He still thinks he's alive sometimes."
She turned her attention back to the dress and held it up in front of her, turning a small circle toward the nearest full-length mirror to get a better idea of how it would look on her. "It's gorgeous," she said. And clearly it would be out of her price range. Could this stranger really be offering it up to her for free? "Yes. Yes, of course I can. I'll be right back. Be on your best behavior," she added to her husband before rushing off into the dressing room.
This wasn't Taeyeon's first town event, however, this was the first even she had ever wanted to take part in. Cherry blossoms everywhere reminded her of springtime in Seoul, and although not every day that she'd spent there had been happy, the she-wolf had once called it home. Home, had been in her fiance's arms, too, but those days seemed to have been a lifetime ago...
It was her day off from work, so she figured she could walk around Lunar Cove and check some of the things the town was offering to its inhabitants. Eventually, Taeyeon ended up settling for the ghost tour even if she didn't believe in them. Yes, she was a scaredy cat, but she was also a werewolf, so that must have meant that she could handle herself, right?
Wrong.
All it took was Mateo's voice saying he'd felt a cold spot for Taeyeon to gasp and hold onto the other beside her, someone who was clearly having a laugh. "Sorry!" The she-wolf said, dropping her hands from the woman's arm, chuckling nervously. "These things don't seem to scare you, do they?" She asked Azra. "Maybe I should stick by you." ( @azraflowers )
Surprised though she was to have a stranger suddenly clinging to her side, Azra didn't mind it. She reached for the woman's hand and gave it a small comforting squeeze. "I could use the company," she agreed easily enough. Her husband gave her an offended look as he reappeared by her side, causing that 'cold' spot to pop up next to the two women instead of the two tour guides. She shot him a look that warned him to stay quiet--not that anyone but her could hear him anyway--and ushered him away, pretending she was fanning away a non-existent bug. Yes, Azra always had company. She had company wherever she went, all times of the day and night, because the dead were everywhere and could be called to her side at a moment's notice. But she really could use more living company, company she could be see talking to in public without looking like she'd lost her mind. "I swear to protect you from all ghosts. But if you want to know a secret--" She lowered her voice. "Ghosts almost never hurt anybody. They're like anybody else; they just want someone to talk to." She paused and added quickly. "Or I think that's what they'd want. If they were real." The tour group continued on, moving toward the next stop, and Azra stayed close to the woman as they followed behind. "Do you believe in ghosts?"
No, no, no. Not now. Not now. She couldn't do this. Not again. Not now. She was supposed to be helping the coven. They had already started chatting the incantation to release the spirit trapped in Dilan's body, but at the sound of Julian beginning to choke back on air, Jas' felt her entire body clamp up. Her spine went ridged and her hands began to shake as she took the smallest step back. "Sorry, I, uh, I, uh," She shook her head the smallest bit back and forth as her gaze darted over to Julian. "Fuck," the curse broke from his lips as she watched his hands dart to his throat, motioning for someone, anyone to help him. Only Jas already knew how the story would end. They'd rush to help him. They'd try to give him CPR. They try to do everything in their power to open his airways back up, but nothing would help. Nothing would save him and they'd be left to listen to the sounds of him gasping out for air until the worst happened. Until the sounds of his desperate breaths came to an end. She had been through this all before with her mom. The first life Death had come to collect from her. And as much as she wanted to run to Julian's side and be there for him, she knew it she was likely the last person who should given that it was her fault he was dying right now. Shit.
"We, we need blood," Jas said, forcing her voice to be calm despite the circumstances. "He doesn't need medical help. He needs- we need a vampire. That's dark magic and the only way he is making it out of this is with one's help. And as for her," She turned on her heels, tilting her head back towards where she had been attempting to help the coven up until now. "We need to start over. We need-" She couldn't do this. She couldn't focus. She needed to fix this. She needed to help. She needed to do something, anything, and yet her brain seemed to be moving a mile a minute. And for the love of god, if her hands wouldn't just stop shaking.
Azra couldn't say honestly that she knew what was happening. What she did know was that whatever carefree event this night had started as--a dance, a charity--was long gone, and things had quickly shifted into a fight between life and death. She also knew that she had a crick in her back she'd be feeling for days and was very much out of the running for this dance contest after the ghost inside of Dilan had tripped her with marbles and sent her flailing to the ground. She knew she'd long since lost her dance partner. And she knew that Jas--the only person Azra had ever met who could do what she could, someone she had talked to only briefly on one of the ghost tours but who had felt like an angel come to bless her, a life-raft in a drowning ocean, an unexpected ally she was so thankful to have met, someone to tell her she wasn't crazy--Jas couldn't finish this ritual on her own.
Azra reached out and took both of Jas' shaking hands in her own and squeezed. "It's okay," she said. She watched as the vampires rushed toward the dying man. "It's okay. They're going to save him. It's going to be okay. And I-I can do it. Tell me what to do, and I'll do it." She had never done anything like this before, never been part of a coven, never performed a ritual of this nature. But she wanted to help. All she'd ever wanted to do was help. "I can do this."
Elizabeth looked over at the unfamiliar person who thought they were clearly cool enough to talk to her and she raised an eyebrow. Wondering who the hell they thought they were. “I know I do.” She remarked with a flip of her long hair. “Thanks, they’re better than any shoes that anyone has on here.” Remarking with a sigh. It was a shame that these mortals were all so boring. Wanting to space things up Dilan pulled some marbles out of her pockets and let them drop to the floor around her and Azra. “Oooops might want to watch your step.”
"They're very sensible," Azra agreed. "Good for dancing. I'm sure you'll make it really far tonight and--" Azra paused, looking closely at Dilan now. She could see Dilan--the same woman she'd seen around town time and time again--but there was something---or someone--else too. Slowly, Azra's eyes widened as she realized what it was she was seeing--not just a ghost, but a ghost inside someone else. Not that her realization mattered much, as the next second, as she's tried to move closer to get a better look at the spirit, she tripped over a marble like something out of a bad kid's movie and went tumbling and shrieking to the floor. "Ouch," she mumbled once she'd hit the ground, staring up at the ceiling from her back. She reached for one of the marbles laying next to her and picked it up, holding it up to the light. "Oh, how pretty. This is a...nice accessory to you dress," she said. She raised a hand over her head. "Can you help me up?"
"What? I didn't say nothing!" In truth, Kyle had only been walking past the shop by chance. Hands dug into his pockets and head held low, he glanced momentarily over his shoulder, as if searching for something. But he was startled out this daze by the shushing.
The noise proved, in his mind, what he already knew to be true. Flower crown making was not his scene, and really, the sorts of people who would even attend such an event were highly unlikely to offer him any fun. They would not even know what fun was. He imagined they were all snobbish, stiff upper lip sorts. Maybe they wore big hats and drank tea. Maybe they hated rock music.
Rolling his shoulders and knitting his brow, though, he gave Azra a look up and down. "Not unless you're part bumblebee." Such an insect had been flitting around the shop's windows, perhaps enticed by the colorful flora on display. As if on cue, the creature landed easily on Kyle's hand, and he used a thumb to "pet it" before setting it off again. He sniffed, and his next words carried an almost rebuffing tone.
"Plants oughta be outside where things can get at 'em, don't ya think? What good is all this doin' anything?"
"No, sorry, not you, it's--" But at this point, Azra had to stop and bite her lip, because what could she say to make this any better? Either he thought she was rude, or he thought she was crazy--that was the story of her life. She finally settled with, "I was talking to the bee," and pointed to the insect fluttering between them. This was a lie, of course, but she could talk to the bee if she wanted to, and the fact that the insect had felt calm enough to land on his shoulder--and that he'd pet it--was enough to make Azra trust him. That, and his next sentence, had her grinning with excitement. "Yes, exactly! Flowers are for seeing--stopping and smelling, not wearing. This whole process interrupts the ecosystem and mutual accountability that exists between the flower and the pollinator. Their symbiotic bond is--" She paused, cutting herself off from a rant about the circle of life. The ghost beside her snickered. "Shh," Azra said again, then blushed, then pretended to be swatting the air in front of her where there was clearly no insect to be found, and accidentally smacked herself in the face with her own hair. "Thought I heard another bee. They're so loud, right?" She coughed, cleared her throat, and tried to put her hair normal. "Hi, I'm Azra." She offered him her hand to shake.
"Think so? You talk like you know so." He wondered if she was one of the unusual ones. The supernatural as the hunters categorized them. Kotaro knows that he can't speculate this for every person he meets but he couldn't help himself. This was Lunar Cove, the place where he was supposed to find answers. "Tempting. But if I wanted a ghost to be my tour guide, I'd also have to be dead, right?"
He smiled at his own joke and followed behind the moving group, still engaging in conversation as he walked. "So, hypothetically speaking, ghosts share the same scope as the rest of the universe then? If you care then the universe cares: if you don't, it doesn't either. All of this makes for a good though experiment. Or a perfectly good excuse to make something out of nothing...If it wasn't obvious enough, I'm something of a skeptic." Ko gave her a solid handshake as he introduced himself. "The name's Kotaro. I'm yet to be fully convinced of this whole thing but who knows? Maybe this tour will change that." Though he highly doubts that at this rate. "Do you study ghosts yourself or are you just in for the ride like me?"
"What could I know?" Azra asked. She'd been told this town would be a sanctuary, a place that was safe for people with powers like she had, but she still wasn't sure she wanted to go around advertising what she could do. Talking to flowers and animals could be cool, quirky even, to some people, but talking to the dead tended to freak people out. Ever since her abilities had surfaced, Azra had had to hide them--and when she'd slipped up, it had cost her, making her a social piranha. That instinct didn't go away over night. "It's a thought experiment, right?"
Azra shook her head. "You wouldn't have to be dead. You'd just...have to be able to communicate with the dead." She kept her arms crossed over her chest, hands pulled up into the sleeves of her sweater. With the ghosts around--and her late husband was not the only one in the vicinity, many having gathered around to watch the tour with the same sort of wry amusement she held--Azra was perpetually cold. She unraveled from her sweater, however, to shake his hand, and gave him a warm smile. "It's nice to meet you, Kotaro. And yes. Hypothetically speaking, ghosts are...just people. People who have died, but still people. They care and think and feel and question just like the rest of us. Hypothetically speaking." As for his question, "Oh, I study them. A bit--" Azra's eyes landed on one of the ghosts out of the corner of her vision, another standing by a tree across the street. I bet this would blow his mind, said her husband, Rex, appearing right next to Kotaro and making Azra jump. He started 'poking' the man's head, which would probably feel like nothing more than a cold breeze to someone who couldn't see him. "Stop that," Azra said, giggling and slapping her husband's hand away from the man. Immediately realizing what she'd done, she blushed and dropped her hand to her side. "You um, you had a bug flying around you," she lied.
The Dance-a-Thon was supposed to be another something to get Ben's mind off of everything that had happened recently, but it was quickly becoming just another stressor. Through no fault of his own, nor of his dance partner. On the contrary, the dancing was nice. He wasn't exactly sure what Dilan was doing. While he'd picked up that she was a bit prone to dramatics, this was a bit much. He wasn't exactly sure that it was his place to get involved though. "Let's... sit this out, at least for now. If it becomes more concerning, then we'll step in," he murmured.
Azra nodded, continuing to sway a bit awkwardly on the spot as she looked over Ben's shoulder toward the woman now seemingly trying to pick a fight with anyone she passed. "Is this normal around here?" she asked. She hadn't been in town very long, but she'd seen enough to realize that Lunar Cove was unlike any place she'd ever been before--certainly more exciting, and absolutely more dramatic. "I guess I don't really know what the concerning threshold is." She gave him a small, albeit nervous, smile. "But at least there's no..." She trailed off, for in the process of looking around the dance floor for spirits beyond the grave, she noticed a definite something around Dilan. "Oh," she whispered. Then she looked back to Ben. "If I told you something crazy, would you believe me?"
Where: Dance-A-Thon
Who: Ben @readbentweenthelines
Azra swayed awkwardly from side to side, as Joe had instructed, while the doors were tossed unceremoniously open and a woman came striding in, making chaos everywhere she went. She had not been in town long, and truthfully, she'd never been to an event like this before, but she had been having fun, getting to know people and dancing the night away. Now... She leaned in close to partner. "Is this normal? Are we supposed to keep dancing?" She knew this town was unusual, but this behavior was a little concerning. "Should we...do something to help?"
Elizabeth pushed opened the doors as hard as she could, both doors slammed against the wall with a bang. Revealing freshly cut bangs and dyed black hair, in tow with a black leather mini skirt, a silk black top that clearly belonged to Leyla, a cropped black leather jacket, and knee high black leather boots to the crowd. Flicking the ashes of the cigarette in her hand onto the clean floor before she put them out with toe of her boots. “Am I late?” She asked with a smirk, knowing damn well that she was late to their little party. Taking another hit from the cigarette before she handed the cigarette to the person closes to her. “Be a doll and put that out for me.” Patting them on the cheek before she walked away and to another person. Looking them over as she gave a laugh. “You wore that to this? Tragic.”
Azra didn't know Dilan well. She didn't know anyone in Lunar Cove very well. But in the few weeks she'd been in town, she had tried to go to town events, frequent town shops, and introduce herself to her neighbors. And Dilan was impossible not to notice. It was easy to put together who had a reputation around this town, and though Azra had heard stories about Dilan, this seemed even more extreme an entrance than she'd been expected. Still swaying awkwardly from side to side because Joe hadn't said they could stop dancing, Azra looked glumly down at her dress. She had thought it was nice when she picked it out, but, well, it was rather old. "You look nice," she offered. "I like your boots."
open to all!!
when: the afternoon before the Dance-a-Thon
where: Blush Boutique, Celestial Hills
The first thing they’d done when they got Blush back was change the loft-like second floor back the way it should be. It wasn't storage, it wasn't overflow, it was a studio. An atelier, sorta, but part of the store as well. It all worked together, see? They'd told this to their new staff, feeling dangerously proprietary about it. A sturdy desk sat out in the open, sewing machine, shears and tapes carefully perched on top. Three full length mirrors placed just so, to make multiple angles visible at once, a cluster of half-dressed mannequins. Brightly stencilled paper screens blocked them from view of the shop as they worked, but they could still peek down to keep an eye on things. It was the closest thing to a comfort zone that they could find—contained and simultaneously open. Protected by the presence of others, and yet isolated from them.
Right this moment, the day before a big dance, they were deep in work mode. The chime of the door and the customers' footsteps down on the floor faded to soothing background noise, familiar in its own mild way. A jacket blooming with embroidered flowers was pinned on one mannequin, inspired by the festival that Kui had seen glimpses of on their quick errands. A second version of it floated directly in front of them, an illusory copy to test things out on. "Having trouble in the shoulders there, Suzie Q..." they murmured to the jacket mirage, frowning and lifting a seam half an inch to see if that helped.
And actually, Kui realized, so were they. With a sigh, they stretched their arms up and across the back of their neck, breaking loose of the hyper-focused state that consumed most of their days. They hummed, chanced a glance down at the various heads bobbing about the shop, and then got distracted when they saw someone—someone perfect for—
Kui's wings burst from their back, emerging without incident through the tailored gaps they left in all of their own clothes. They glided off the end of the balcony, directly towards a specific rack they knew had—there, yeah—and removed a garment on a hanger. They stepped up to their unwitting model. "Take this," they said breathlessly, and then paused and added, "Just, like, if you want. It'll look right on you." They felt heat rising in their cheeks. "On—on the house, just this one," and resisted the urge to fly back upstairs immediately.
Azra did not have a lot of money, and what little money she did have was spent on rent, trying to help her sister with the place they were both staying at since they'd so suddenly relocated to Lunar Cove with few of their belongings but plenty of fear-related baggage. But she had been saving up with her salary from the inn, hoping to buy herself something nice for the dance. She would go to the discount rack of course, or maybe something second hand, but Azra had been trying her best to be involved in town events, and the upcoming dance-a-thon was as good an opportunity as any to get to know her new neighbors. Being busy, going to events, meeting new people--it kept her from thinking about what had brought her here in the first place, kept her from staying home alone, crying over romantic movies, and talking to her dead husband's ghost.
Not that she was alone now. He came into the store with her, and as she reached for each dress and held it up to herself, he would oooh and ahhh and tell her how beautiful she looked, making her giggle and shh the seemingly empty air in front of her. "You can't say that about all of them," she whispered, trying her best to talk out the corner of her mouth so she didn't look like she was talking to herself--but it was a skill she had not really mastered yet. She was just reaching for another dress when suddenly someone flew down in front of her. Azra yelped in surprise, stumbled backwards, hit a rack, and knocked over a mannequin. She grabbed it again as quickly as she could, trying to right it and put its shirt back on the right way. "Sorry. Sorry. I'll fix that. I--" Her eyes fell on the garment they were showing her. It was perfect. She reached for it, gently touching the soft fabric, imagining twirling around in it on the dance floor. "It's beautiful," she whispered. Then she looked up at the winged stranger. "But I can't--I can pay for it..." She started fumbling through her purse, though she probably didn't have enough for it.
Fascinating. Kotaro turned away from the display the younger men were gawking at and addressed the coughing woman beside him. "Uh, yeah. Definitely." That's one way to put it. He eyed the woman from head to toe. She looked to be more experienced than the other in this tour. Maybe she worked for the company. It wouldn't hurt to ask. "Is all of this legitimate?"
"I don't mean to be rude or anything but it would be nice to know." Despite having been cursed for three years, Ko was still a baby when it came to this supernatural business, ghosts especially. He's familiar with countless ghost stories that are meant to be cautionary or tragic or both but he's never had to genuinely consider their existence up until now. "I mean...I don't know about you but gathering a bunch of 'haunted' things, piling them all together and then opening it to the public is kinda just asking for trouble." That's a number of horror movies start. You'd think they would have learned better by now.
Azra was clearly still trying not to laugh but she pulled her attention from the garbage can and the werewolf talking about 'cold energy' and looked instead to the man to her left. "Oh yes," she said, nodding. "I mean, I think so." She was still not used to talking about her abilities openly, even if this town was overflowing with supernatural things--werewolves and vampires and witches and all sorts of powers Azra hadn't even known existed before she moved here. All her life, her 'gift' had been a secret--something she had been forced to hide, made fun of for and, now, hunted. And yet here she was on a ghost tour run by two werewolves. "Well, this tour is for fun." She could remember reading some sort of disclaimer before she'd gotten tickets. "They're enthusiastic. It's entertainment. Ghosts...real ghosts, if there are such a thing, well I think they'd have better things to do than give tours."
The group was moving on now, off to the next destination and supposedly 'haunted' sighting. Azra followed at the back of the group, keeping in step with the man now. "Most ghosts don't want to harm humans," she said. "Haunted things are just...memories. If the thing don't mean anything to you, the ghosts rarely will either." She offered the man her hand. "Hi, I'm Azra by the way. So do you believe in ghosts?"
Billie swallowed tightly, mildly confused by the whispered words but not sure what to say to that. She didn't think she was being mean. Was she? What did that even mean? Was the woman even talking to her? But it seemed like she was talking to Billie, especially when she asked if she could sit with Billie. "I'm so sorry. You don't have to-- I-- Well, yes, you can. I mean, if you want." But Billie wasn't really sure that she actually wanted to, or if it was just because she'd had the unfortunate displeasure of hearing Billie's voice. Several other people around them had heard, and Billie looked down as they wandered off now that the song was over. "If you want to. But you don't have to." Billie tried so hard to not do that. She had to be more careful, in the future. She wanted to be more careful.
Azra took her seat next to Billie, though she pulled her knees up to her chest and looked mildly uncomfortable as she looked around the room. "It's cold in here, isn't it?" It probably wasn't, but Azra was always cold, surrounded by spirits as she so often was. She looked at the crown the woman had been working on, and though it brought a lump to her throat, she forced it down and made herself say, "That's very nice. It'll look really pretty on you." Relax, said the ghost by her side. Making friends is good idea. Just talk to her. Azra shot the spirit a glare before tugging her attention back to the woman. "What you were singing..." She said, reaching for one of the loose petals on the floor. "Is that...is that a magic power? Are you..." She lowered her voice. "A witch?"
