ban avett

if there's a wrong way, i found it. Ban Avett Watchman of the Community of Unholy Saints.

[darthvaders]

[banavett-blog]

stella.

“Yes, and the lamb.” Stella waited, a smile plastered on her face as the butcher looked from her to the line rapidly forming behind her – and sighed. A man was trying to squeeze in, encroaching on her personal space. She squared her shoulders and shook her head a bit, so her hair thwapped him in the face. “Oh!” Stella turned, red locks thwapping again. “So sorry about that.” She flashed a smile.

He, annoyed, took a step back.

“Thank you.” She praised the butcher, watching eagerly as he weighed and wrapped it in brown paper. “Do you have any–”

Professor?

Stella turned, curiously, spotting a head of dusty blonde hair. “Ah, Ban.” She took the lamb, and then took another — long — moment to survey her other options. “Oh, just throw in a couple of those sausages, too, won’t you?”

She turned, beckoning him through the crowd.

“Good, good.” Blue eyes curious as they looked over him, thoroughly disregarding the line and the pile of cut-and-weighed meats accumulating on the counter before her. “Are you getting something for the solstice?”

Okay, so, Ban was given the perfect excuse for why he was in the butcher shop. Shopping for a solstice meal. That seemed reasonable. Mama would have liked that he did that, she always loved a meal on a special occasion. It shouldn’t have mattered if he made something just for himself or if he invited others to join.

The thing was, Ban only went in the butcher shop because he saw Stella. Ban blinked, bemused, and nodded. “Yeah, I’m getting a brisket.” Sure, why not?

A look of consternation from words he couldn’t find wrinkled his brow and he stared at the woman for a beat. “I really need to talk to you, actually.”

Yes, you do.

The voices again. Ban figured out two things: the sound was distinctly feminine and echoed. It was multiple voices, not just one. And Ban couldn’t fool himself into thinking he knew who it was, but he had a hunch. He just needed to find out for sure and Stella was the only one that could help. “Now’s a bad time, though, maybe I could swing by later. It’s just, uhm, urgent.” Ban didn’t dare bring it up here at the butcher counter. “Did you need help carrying all of this?” he asked hastily, motioning toward the pile of meat she’d ordered.

[banavett-blog]

wendy.

It was awful to admit, but Wendy knew two things: she was young, and she was stupid. There was still so much she had no idea about, and yet, there she was. A Maiden. Meant to help Mama O’Conner, and in some cases, the coven itself. But the Church of Unholy Saints had always chosen Maidens when they were young. Maybe there was something to being young and stupid. 

Maybe it meant you could still learn. 

Ban’s easy attitude and smirk put her at ease. She ducked slightly as he ruffled her hair. “Duly noted.” The young woman said with a nod and a small laugh. “Ask questions, learn, don’t piss off Mama… seems simple enough when you boil it all down.”

“Yeah, simple. Exactly.” Not like the war where things were... figuratively and sometimes literally on fire. The near constant panic and ever changing orders were gone and all that remained was whatever the hell was left of the valley. Ban was still picking up the broken pieces of his life, searching to collect things he’d lost.

That was why he was here at Wendy’s house with a loaf of bread and firewood. 

“So when do you start? I’ve never had a friend that’s a Maiden. Can you tell me all of the coven secrets?”

[banavett-blog]

maddox‌.

Maddox shivered in a dark wool coat. Miserably cold. The damp made harsh when the wind bit down with a reminder it was still there. Settling in every step one took, hooked around every corner possible of hiding behind, and weaved through layers of clothing to reach skin. The only saving grace of warmth was a drink from his flask which he took occasionally. 

He paused under a light to screw the cap back on until he heard the other man approaching. “Ban. Been a while, hasn’t it?” He’d known Ban from the Academy and after. “Good to see you. Feel like all we’ve done is shake hands at Watchmen meetings lately.” Those all too serious gatherings left no time for socializing either. He nodded and took a cigarette offered with a thank you, placing it behind an ear temporarily as he held out the flask. “Maybe you can pass along your secret for getting through these long nights with your sanity intact, hm? So far it’s been mind-numbing out here.”

“Yeah. Good to see you. Nice to have a familiar face in the ranks.”

Sanity. He’d been feeling the opposite of sane lately. “Funny you should say that.” Ban let the odd remark float there for a few moments as he lit up a cigarette of his own, peering sidelong at Maddox before staring straight ahead into the darkness again. He took a long drag off of the cigarette and lifted an eyebrow. “The only secret I’ve got to share with you is: shit’s fucked.”

Between hearing voices, strange creatures, and running into one of the few warlocks that came close to offing him in the war, Ban had had just about enough of the night shift.

Ban took the cigarette from his lips and dropped his arms in defeat. He dropped his head backward and blew smoke into the air. Being around Maddox made him think about the Academy, when things were simpler, even though Ban thought they were complicated. He’d never been lonely. He even shared space with Maddox for a time. Nowadays he was lucky if he could carry on a conversation with his familiar, much less another person. “Sometimes I can’t tell if I want my mind numbed or for something to fucking happen. You know what I mean?” It was like falling forever, moving too fast but feeling like you’re hardly moving at all, wrapped up in a sense of impending doom. A short sigh, he let it all go. “How’s the family?” Keyes was one of the few people Ban knew that had anyone left.

[23gwendo-deactivated20230919]

[banavett-blog]

eli.

He paused, “Ah, right,” a name seemed somewhat trivial at this point, given how much he knew of the other already, too much for comfort probably, “I’m Eli.”

Given how on closer inspection the feeling of emptiness seemed to move, he didn’t believe there was any sort of cloaking on the house itself at least. Still he was quite glad Ban wanted to go first, he surely knew more of cloaks, wards and the like, and hopefully how not to get incinerated by them.

The pungent smell of mold wafted outside as Ban forced the door open. Eli kept close as instructed, stilled as Ban spoke inside, silently hoped he hadn’t as a heavy expecting feeling fell over the house. Stillness.

It seemed mostly empty inside, a broken table, rusted kitchen appliances, mostly everything that hadn’t been nailed to the floor stripped away. Perhaps during the war or perhaps the house had been empty even before. He walked around the room, straying further from the other since there didn’t seem to be immediate threat. There appeared to be only one other room, the door hanging from its hinges, a moldy old mattress in the middle and there, in the ceiling, a dark opening.

His heart hammered in his chest as he took a few steps closer, eyes locked on the ominous black hole. Then a breath, eyes squeezed tightly shut, submerged in frigid water, no noise, no feeling, a breath, calmer now, heartbeat back to normal, “Give me a boost?” he asked, there was no ladder and he was the smaller one.

Eli. Ban committed the name to the face. He had questions for the warlock but now was hardly the time to have a conversation along the likes of why the fuck didn’t you kill me and whatnot.

The smell inside the house was nauseating. Ban put the back of his hand in front of his nose to try and stifle the stench. Clearly the place was abandoned, not even inhabited by squatters. Or else they would have done something with the place, maybe.

Thoughts ended when he heard Eli move around the room, Ban not straying far from the door while he let Eli explore. Something told him the man’s perception was more acute than his own. Maybe he saw things Ban couldn’t. And anyway, being near the door meant he could bolt (for help) if necessary. Eli was drawn to another room and Ban followed, not able to abandon the situation. Even though the hair on the back of his neck was standing on end.

Eli looked uneasy, for lack of a better word, but Ban wasn’t ready to end the investigation just yet if he thought there was something up there. “All right.” Ban laced his fingers and widened his stance, nodding at Eli to step on his hands so he could lift him into the attic. “I’ll be right here.”

[banavett-blog]

wendy.

She hadn’t felt as nervous as she did in that moment since the war. Wendy had scrambled out of Greengardens, her coat barely on her back as she trailed after her friends. She watched as the streets filled, and like ants heading to their hill, every witch and warlock from every coven made their way to the cobblestone pentagram that was the town square. She frowned as Eli stopped abruptly in his path. Maybe everyone was a bit set off guard by the signal… But a tap was enough to pull him out of it, as she saw someone reach out and set him back on his way. 

Wendy pushed her way through the forming crowd to keep up, straining to see where Eli and Tempest had gone, having lost sight of them in the crowd. A familiar voice called out to her, and she tore after it, taking Eli’s hand. She looked around for a minute, feeling like a deer caught frozen in fear or hesitation, before blurting out to catch the attention of her friend, reaching out her hand. 

“Ban!”

@banavett​

Ban came trudging out of Dawes Draperies, stopped by a crowd of witches and warlocks swooping down the sidewalk headed for the square. He was on edge--the poltergeist had been spotted at his post but not by him and he was uncharacteristically peeved about it. What kind of watchman was he when he couldn’t find a poltergeist right under his nose? Not to mention the jokes if anybody found out, because he’d found himself bored and snooping in the ‘intimates’ section out of plain curiosity.

Oh, well.

His knee was giving him shit and it took every ounce of self control not to say fuck with each step. Plenty of people had already gathered by the time Ban arrived a huge gathering had begun joining hands. A flash of red hair caught his eye and the younger witch shouted his name. He moved over to her instantly, shouldering his way past a much taller warlock to stand at Wendy’s side. “Having fun yet?” he asked in a low voice, taking Wendy’s hand in his. “I am.”

Ban looked to his left and beckoned Cypris over. “Hey, get over here, Cypris.”

@arsenic-inyourveins​

[banavett-blog]

🎉

Ban had one too many beers, and now he had a mug full of whiskey. The bonfire dragged on, people gathered around chatting and music playing from a radio that Ban had yet to locate. If he heard one more twangy country song he was going to scream. A sip of the whiskey brought a grimace to his face, and he resumed staring at the fire. Cypris was sitting beside him on the log. Either Ban had sat next to him or Cypris found him a half hour ago and after a few false starts they didn’t make any conversation. Ban let out an audible sigh as everyone started counting down from 20 to the new year, exchanged a look with Cypris at the chanting and giggling. When the clock struck midnight everyone cheered. Ban threw back the rest of the whiskey in his mug and hissed at the burn. Then he slung an arm around Cypris’s shoulders and tugged him in, kissing the top of his head. “Happy new year, Cypris.”

[banavett-blog]

🎉

Ban busied himself going to the kitchen for another beer when the countdown started. He just didn’t want to be part of the commotion, wanted a second to himself without all the... frivolity. Ban grabbed a bottle of beer out of a cooler and popped the cap off using the corner of the kitchen counter. When he looked up, he saw Wendy standing right in front of him, mid laugh and looking over her shoulder at someone in the crowd. 3, 2, 1... “Uh, happy new year.” Ban lifted the bottle awkwardly at the younger witch who was smiling at him. It didn’t seem like enough so he pulled Wendy in for a hug and kissed the top of her head.

[banavett-blog]

🎉 to kiss my muse at midnight on New Year’s Eve

“Kiss my ass, Rathmore.”

[fivepointshq]

Send ’ 🎉 ’ to kiss my muse at midnight on New Years Eve.

It’s a special edition of meme Monday: New Year’s Eve!

Please reblog this meme from the HQ, and remember to send out memes to other players if you do. We generally ask that you send each player at least one meme, because we’re a small group and want everyone to feel included. Cheers!

[banavett-blog]

And @rowanmaclain !!

[banavett-blog]

regan.

“If green had a flavour, this would be it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Trust Ban to pick the one she had specifically not recommended. Heading over to the shake machine, she added milk, ice cream, and the chlorophyll green syrup that supposedly made it taste christmassy. It mostly tasted like mint and sugar and was probably just creme de menthe. Mixing it by rote allowed her to watch him in the chrome reflection of the machine. He looked distorted, but that was true either way. Looking at him was jarring: she knew him and she didn’t at the same time. But she couldn’t stop. 

“That’s different. I’m extraordinary.” The extraordinary girl, one of her nicer epithets. She couldn’t remember who started it, but she’d done everything to live up to it. She finally had to turn around and leaned on the counter as she slid his milkshake over, dropping a straw in and adorning it with whipped cream and a cherry on top. “If you ruin that pretty face, what’ll you have going for you?” She winked, because Ban was the definition of more than a pretty face. She would know. 

Waving away his concern, uncomfortable with it because she’d never needed it before and didn’t want it now, regardless of what she might need, she reached across the counter, letting her fingers brush his jaw faintly before clamping onto Bastard and pulling her away. “Give it up, you little slut. You’re a health hazard anyway.” Tucking the weasel in her apron pocket, she patted the counter awkwardly, trying to think of a topic of conversation that wouldn’t lead into dangerous territory. “What’re you doing these days?” Who are you doing these days was probably closer, but she’d given up any right to ask when she’d broken up with him. “I’m underachieving and disappointing my family, just like everyone always predicted. Good to know some things don’t change.”

Ban’s fingers closed around the cold glass, rather interested in the minty smelling milkshake. Unlike most people, he liked mint flavored things. He grinned and scooped a bit of whipped cream off the top with his finger and ate it, his eyes happening to meet Regan’s gaze as he did so. Whoops, better start using the straw.

He said nothing about the bike or ruining his ‘pretty face’, instead a bit surprised when Regan reached for him. Or rather, her familiar. Ban let out a long breath and tried the milkshake as Regan spoke again. The shake was... very minty.

“I’m a watchman,” Ban stated quietly. It was more than he deserved. Maybe more responsibility than he wanted. “Which is a joke. Some days my knee’s so bad I can barely walk. Can’t hear out of this ear anymore.” He idly tapped his left ear and sighed with a half shrug. “But what can you do? I’m still here.” 

Regan was still there, too. Ban’s brow furrowed as he studied her. A lot of memories and baggage he had no capability of facing over a green milkshake threatened to come to the surface of his mind. He breathed in and then out and dropped his eyes to the milkshake. “Shake’s good. Thanks.”

[banavett-blog]

new low. @stella-dawes

Ban pushed open the door to the butcher shop and paused when he saw red hair at the checkout counter. Ban paused with the door held open. He hadn’t been looking for the witch in particular, but in that moment he realized he needed to speak with her.

“Professor?” Ah, shit. She wasn’t--not anymore. That was years ago. Ban was in his thirties now, there no need to call Stella Dawes professor. “Stella, uh--hey.” He wanted to say something about chicken thighs or pork tenderloin since they were at the butcher, but neither of those things had anything to do with why he started talking to her. “How... are you?” So far, so good. Great conversation.

[banavett-blog]

smokescreen. @darkxkeyes

A drop in temperature when the sun went down soaked through Ban’s coat and the scarf wrapped up to his chin. Made his eyes water. He watched his breath trail off into the air as he made his way down the sidewalk toward a streetlamp, under which stood a tall figure. As Ban got closer he recognized the man with dark hair. 

“Keyes,” he said. Ban was desperate for anything to break the monotony of this quiet night beat. Also on edge for that anything. Running into an old friend was about as much excitement as he wanted. “Smoke?” Ban asked quietly, retrieving a carton of cigarettes from his inner coat pocket and offering it to the taller warlock.

[banavett-blog]

wendy.

“If it snowed all year, Scout would be in heaven.” Wendy said, laughing to herself. “I might not even have to shovel if he’s out there. He’ll just leave a massive dent wherever he plows through.”  Even so, she took his comment to heart, kicking off the one boot that she had on. If shoveling now would only get her more shoveling later, it really wasn’t worth it. She would just be cold and frustrated.

“I’m a Maiden now!” She was a Maiden now. And as exciting as it was, well… “Can I tell you a secret?” She said, her voice dropping slightly, as if the walls had ears. “I am absolutely terrified that I’m going to mess up. I don’t wanna upset Mama, or let down the Community or anything like that, you know? I love the new responsibilities, it’s just… a tiny bit scarier than I thought it’d be.”

Wendy’s declaration confirming she was a maiden was a bit loud and startled him. Ban wasn’t used to loud. He let out a short chuckle and folded his arms, leaning in when she dropped her voice low. “I can keep a secret, yeah,” he murmured.

The admittance brought a grin to his face. Something about the earnest look in the younger witch’s eyes, the youthful energy that bubbled out of her. Ban nodded and looked away, over Wendy’s head at the other side of the room, momentarily lost in thought.

“You’ll be fine, kiddo.” Ban ruffled Wendy’s hair with a smirk. “You’re young but you’re more competent than you think. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, yeah? I know it’s a big job but as long as you’re eager to learn you’ll make yourself useful.”

[arsenic-inyourveins-blog]

Highly Suspect // Open

[banavett-blog]

cypris.

Unfortunately for Ban if there was one benefit to being the youngest out of a brood it was that you were always tagging along, wide-eyed and eager to listen. It was how he’d met the other man, after all, begging Alder to allow him to join him in his roaming the area near their home when they had been kids. And those habits made a person keen on picking up things, with Cypris it wasn’t entirely a flawless attempt of course as he was so very often distracted but he still noticed far more than people likely cared for him to. 

“You don’t find it…romantic? Beautiful? No? Or are you one of those people that gets creeped out when someone thinks a person is the entire world?” Curiosity had caught him and wouldn’t be shaken free easily, nor was that tiny smile at the corner of his lips with the day-dreamy notion of such things. “I guess obsession is an ugly world, but it’s not an ugly feeling when you have it."  But then when it was gone it ate a person up inside, shards of glass under their skin and twisting in the pit of their aching stomach.  It was the best and the worst thing in the world, in equal measure, and for that he thought it incredibly powerful and something sorely wanted.  

No one left.

Ban’s words caught in his thoughts and left the taste of sudden uncertain misery in his mouth; ash and stale air. The carefully crafted passive indifference in his expression splintered with the furrow of his brow and a sweep of his eyes down for an instant; surely Ban didn’t mean that in the literal sense.  But if he did, well, that left the both of them standing alone, didn’t it? 

"I’d rather avoid mourning anyone else for a while, I think when it comes to that I’d rather be the one to go.” he admitted in a tone of…apology perhaps, but over what? He certainly hadn’t harmed any of Ban’s kin, he knew them distantly but still enough, but he was part of the war that had stolen them.

“Do you ever wonder why…” before his words could fully betray him Cypris let them die on his tongue; it wasn’t at all fair to ask the man if he felt the same doubts as he had fought with, the same questioning over why he was the one to survive.  The world had some larger plan, of course, but it was difficult to understand why the people he had buried weren’t more suited for it than himself; in comparison to them he struggled to see what he could really accomplish. He amended the question with a trailing ‘nevermind’ and shouldered the contact, letting it remind him what it felt like to be part of the world for that brief second as his body stayed on autopilot and continued on to the building, the sign, the end of their little quest.

"Well, I guess that solves…oh..nothing,” he couldn’t help finding it just a bit humorous though and he clung to humor anytime he could anymore, “I guess you’re just going to have sparkle for a while. It sort of works for you." 

Ban stared at Cypris for a beat. Obsession. Letters. Years of his life ended in words on a page. Cypris didn’t know it, couldn’t know what he’d said jabbed a knife right into Ban’s chest. Ban didn’t flinch, didn’t budge. “I don’t find letters romantic,” he said tightly. “Not anymore.” Ban looked at the envelope in his hand, saw a trash bin by the post office door, and dropped it in. “I guess you didn’t hear. Regan dumped me.”

With a deep breath, a cold calm washed over him and he pushed the thoughts from his mind, things not meant for Cypris or really anyone. Ban put a hand on his shoulder and leaned down to look at him, really look at him. And not caring what Gris had to chitter about. “Don’t say shit like that, yeah? I can’t mourn anybody else either.”

Then a short laugh, a genuine smile at the thought that being glittery would suit him. “I guess so. Even though it’s gone, I think I’ll be finding glitter all over the place for the next few months.” Ban saw a few specks of glitter on his own sleeve and picked them off, and as an afterthought, he smeared them onto Cypris’s cheek with a grin. “I’m not dead yet, that’s a good sign. Are you gonna ditch your package or keep it for posterity?”

[banavett-blog]

regan.

Bastard, living up to her name, had done nothing to warn Regan that they had company, instead sleeping in a pile of coats in a booth. Regan had named her familiar as a kind of joke to irritate her parents, shouting the name at random and then cackling. It was really her own fault that the pine marten had adopted the name as a challenge and screwed Regan over whenever it would be most humiliating. 

Maybe if it had been someone else, the little weasel might have said something, but of course her familiar was gaga for Ban. Hurling herself out of the coats, she wound her way up Ban’s body and settled on his shoulder, nuzzling Regan’s former fiance like the shameless attention whore that she was. Crossing her arms and rolling her eyes at her familiar’s betrayal, she casually tried to stretch out her leg muscle and determine whether or not she’d actually hurt herself. 

“Think of it as my Christmas gift to the world.” She bowed overdramatically and then wondered what she was supposed to do next, other than want to get closer to Ban and possibly fix the spot near his jawline that he’d missed shaving. If she was being entirely honest, she envied her stupid other half, currently draped around Ban like a scarf. “What can I do you for? You want a milkshake? We have chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, or festive green, which I highly don’t recommend.” Somehow she would get through this conversation without embarrassing herself. Except that she was already standing closer to him than she’d been a moment before. Dammit all to hell. Stomping over to the jukebox, which hurt like a bitch, she cranked the music down to a low level. His bike was parked outside. “You shouldn’t ride that thing in the winter. You’re gonna spin out and get road rash one of these days.” She now sounded like her mother. God, this season was shit. “Fuck, just sit, you’re making me nervous looming like some kind of henge.”

“Aw, hey, B--” Ban scoffed and shook his head as Regan’s familiar scaled his frame and sat on his shoulder. He gave her head a scratch. He preferred to call her B rather than play along with Regan’s naming scheme for the marten, and he was a bit surprised at the warm welcome by the creature... considering.

When he looked up, Regan had come a little closer. She looked the same but different, wearing a diner uniform and an apron. It was the intense look in her eye that brought Ban back and he blinked slowly, trying to focus. “Err, green? Is that the flavor? Green?” he asked with a smirk. “I’ll do that one.”

Regan had a hitch in her gait, and whether that was because Ban was acutely aware of the witch’s presence or because he walked with a limp himself, he wasn’t sure. “Listen, you can bitch all you want about my bike, but I wasn’t the one doing handsprings on a diner counter, now was I?” Ban moved over to the diner counter and perched on one of the stools, not quite settling in. When he left his house, he wasn’t sure if he was seeking company so much as a different atmosphere. What he got was his ex fiance and an empty diner, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

“You hurt yourself,” Ban heard himself say. “Your leg. Just now?” Or maybe it was a war injury like his knee, he wasn’t sure. Ban hadn’t kept track of Regan much after a terse exchange of letters. He tried not to think about it.