on we go

CALLOWAY // DRIFTER // WITCH "I've never been one for goodbyes, so until I meet you there I'm singing a traveling song to ease the ride."

[ashfilledsoul-blog]

Gargoyles

[callowaycain-blog]

ashfilledsoul:

November 6th, 2017. 10am. St. Lucy’s Cathedral. Ashbourne, Nova Scotia.

@callowaycain

Ash still remembered the first time her freshly inhuman feet had stepped over the threshold of a church. She’d expected to burst into flames, staring at Alaric over her shoulder, eyes wide with fear and then surprise. Turned out the soulless could enter a church, or perhaps the bigger point was that she was no less sinful than some of the humans who sat in those pews every day.

When her heart still beat she’d never been devout in her faith. She wouldn’t call what she felt these days faith exactly, but churches calmed her, made her less afraid. St. Lucy’s was particularly beautiful, understated, homey and ethereal all at once. She’d missed it the three months she’d been out of town, and her favorite spot in the back pew was untouched and waiting for her.

The service itself was muted background noise. Ash preferred to take in the sounds of bodies shifting, people sighing, the not quite stillness that gave her mind permission to wander. One of the prayer books kept in the slots on the back of the pews was balanced on her knee, and she absentmindedly doodled around the passages and songs. Most of the time she was a practically invisible statue, but today she felt disapproving eyes on her, caught the sound of footsteps approaching, felt the body head of a figure standing beside her. Ash slouched in her seat, tilting her head back to appraise the upside down male looking down at her. 

“Can I help you?” she asked in a low voice. “I mean, you’re in a house of God so there’s probably more qualified individuals to help you, but I could give it the good old college try.”

Calloway was not religious, and had never been, so his job as a St. Lucy’s only receptionist under the age of fifty-five was draining, and had been increasingly more so as of late. When he answered the ‘help wanted’ ad, he had expected to spend his shifts redirecting calls and photocopying bulletins, but lately the church had been pressing him into doing other things, like looking up scripture and helping people when the pastor was unavailable. Most of those tasks ended poorly, because he knew next to nothing about the faith and it showed when he tried to pretend he did. 

So, in attempt to ‘fix’ their helpless receptionist, the church board had been scheduling Calloway to facilitate Sunday service, handing out bulletins and setting out candles, with the intention of forcing him to pay attention to the sermon. It was peaceful, he would admit that, but he spent too much time absently staring at the stained-glass windows and restraightening the bibles every few minutes to absorb any of the information. 

He had spent the first half hour of the service this way, but he had noticed out of the corner of his eye someone paying even less attention than himself, which in itself wasn’t a problem, but the stranger was drawing in one of the hymns, and he could practically feel the disapproval radiating from some senior receptionist once they found the book in a pew in direct sight of where Calloway always sat. 

So, he leaned forward on the pew and couldn’t help but smile at the woman’s offer. “I’m supposed to reach out to the secular crowd, and like, help you find God or something to get you to stop drawing in the hymn books, but if I tell you our budget is super small, and my pay is even less, will that work?”

[callowaycain-blog]

willxtorres:

Will waited somewhat impatiently, shifting his weight from side to side with a cigarette in hand as the boy next to him fished through his pockets. He’d seemed a little surprised when Will turned to him but it didn’t matter to the werewolf if his unsuspecting company would’ve preferred to stand silently without acknowledging one another. “Thanks,” he grumbled in a low voice, still trying to shake the annoyance that’d flared after some drunk idiots had mistakenly asked him for assistance, or directions, or thrown IDs at him for the hundredth time. “I am a bouncer,” he admitted with a pointed look, as if to say ‘is there a problem with that?’, “just not tonight. I mean, unless shit hits the fan bad, then my boss’ll have to pay me overtime to clean up this shitshow.” After a momentary pause Will was inhaling smoke deeply, allowing it to settle his nerves before handing the beaten up piece of (functional) junk back to its owner. He looked the boy up and down and scoffed, “don’t get out much do you?”

“Let’s hope shit doesn’t hit the fan then.” Calloway said dully before adding, “Though that doesn’t seem real likely, with this town’s history with events.” He hadn’t been in Ashbourne for long, but even in his short experience with the city he had grown wary of events that gathered any large number of people. He guessed boredom was a good enough lure though, as he was at the event tonight, even if he was barely at the sidelines of it. “No, not really.” He admitted simply to the stranger’s somewhat rude remark. He tried to ignore his own annoyance and asked, “Do you get to? Or are you stuck at the door too much?” 

[callowaycain-blog]

maevebrownes:

The way he doesn’t meet her gaze makes Maeve pull her bottom lip between teeth to hide a laugh. In all honesty, she didn’t expect it to be that easy, and his reaction made him all the more enduring. Bashfulness was a cute image and the redheaded witch couldn’t help but come up with other comments to keep it going. “No, you don’t have to worry about being obvious, I’m just incredibly intuitive.” She grins easily while playing along with the tilt of her head. “It’s definitely not for everyone. There’s a lot going on behind closed doors… and opened doors for those who have no shame.” She gives a laugh, running her thumb against her bottom lip. “At least you tried, right? Did you enjoy yourself? Even a little bit?” Maeve faces the nameless witch, now in full conversation mode. “It’s my scene.” She says with a nod, putting her weight on one leg. “I like the energy - and the number of drinks I’ve had, helps, too. And I don’t know, I haven’t decided…” Maeve takes a look back at the club, her eyes drift to the line of people waiting to get in. “Mmm, yeah. I’m done.” Maeve decided right then and there, blue eyes looking back at dark ones. “I’m at a buzz now where I’d rather ride it out for the rest of the night without needing to dance.” Taking another inhale from her cigarette, Maeve faces away from the crowd so no one would witness half of the stick in her palm engulf in flames. “I hate littering,” She explains quickly when looking at the male before she saunters away from the club. “Coming with?”

Calloway shook off her next comment with an equally embarrassed grin, joking, “I usually don’t worry about being obvious, because I’m usually certain it’s obvious, no intuition required.” The confidence he saw in the redheaded stranger was something Calloway knew he would never possess, but he couldn’t help but admire the girl’s effortless transition into conversation. He laughed at her more than accurate description of the party they had left, and responded, “That’s true, though in all honesty it was so crowded I doubt that there were any closed doors left. I don’t really know what I expected, but at least there was plenty of alcohol. It’s hard to be too miserable with alcohol.” He reasoned lightly, though he wasn’t sure he had drank enough to make him anything more than a little buzzed. 

“The energy was something else.” He said in agreement, though he had little time to reply as she seemed content in moving on from both the subject and the club. He watched in paranoid awe, as he always did in view of magic, as she incinerated her cigarette in her palm, which at least cleared up the feeling he’d had about her being a witch. In a knee-jerk decision, he followed the girl after she turned back to him, asking her, “Where are we going?”

[callowaycain-blog]

maevebrownes:

Maeve inhaled slowly, her system responding to the smoke, and she felt her lungs being wrapped in a warm blanket. “Mmm,” She chuckles at his words, the smoke comes out in puffs through her nose before she presses out the rest that sits in the back of her throat out into the cold air. “Just uncomfortable?” She teases, thinking about calling the stranger again just to see if he would blush this time. Maybe she’d save that for now. “If you say so.” Maeve puts the box back into her pocket, though she has a feeling she’ll need it out again soon. Now that the two were holding -somewhat- of a conversation and she was holding his gaze, she recognized a familiar feeling. The feeling that comes across another when crossing another witch. Maeve runs her tongue over her bottom lip before she smiles pointedly and doesn’t say anything about it. “Not your scene?” She asks with her chin pointing to the loud, ground-pulsing club.

The girl’s reiteration of her previous comment made Calloway’s ear go pink, but he hoped the cold would cover up that fact, as he had always been pitifully easy to embarrass. “Pretty sure, yeah.” He said with a grin toying at the corner of his mouth as he cast his eyes down, focused on taking another drag. He tried not to make a habit of smoking, but he was fond of how conversations seemed a little more natural in the presence of a cigarette, even among strangers. Though, this girl didn’t feel much like a stranger. He hoped it was the alcohol and not the possibility that she was a witch, in which case she’d know about him too.  He let out a soft laugh and met the girl’s eyes again. “Really? It’s that obvious?” He joked, knowing full well that he did not belong at a party. “I thought I could make it my scene, but I was mistaken. What about you? Are you done for the night, or is this just a break before the night really begins?”

[willxtorres]

In a not surprising turn of events, Will was not a big party person. Crowds tended to annoy him unless he was drunk, and as of yet he was only two beers in, Needing a break he stood outside the strip club smoking when a flock of party goers started flashing him ID’s. With a glare he gestured to the door where someone stood inside and stated flatly, “I’m off the clock, try the fucking door,” before turning to someone next to him. “Damnit. got a light?”

[callowaycain-blog]

Needing fresh air after what had been an unsuccessful attempt at getting himself out of his apartment, Calloway found himself not in the party he had tried to enjoy, but outside leaning against the building’s brick wall and finding more enjoyment in the absence of the crowd than he had found as a part of it. He watched as a stranger near him accosted a group of colorfully clad drunks, and something about the severity of the man’s voice made Calloway want to keep listening. So,  he was caught a little off guard when the man directed that voice at him instead. “Uh yeah, sure.” He said, fumbling in his pockets before withdrawing a very abused, but still functional lighter. He handed it to the stranger and asked, “So, do you get mistaken for a bouncer often?”

[maevebrownes]

( calloway cain. )

Maeve exited Pandemonium with a large smile on her lips while an excited laugh escapes her throat, and her hair everywhere having lost the one and only hair tie she brought a long time ago (along with the fox mask), Maeve’s red hair had reasserted its precocious wave, not enough to be ringlets, just sufficient to make it kink out in random directions. Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her torn, old jean jacket, Maeve finds a hand hitting an object that was not previously there when she first arrived at the club. Pulling out the item, she finds a pack of smokes, not yet opened. She gives a low whistle and rips away at the packaging, throwing out the clear wrapper in a nearby trash. The redhead shimmies out a smoke before placing it between her lips. The witch, in her drunken daze, snaps her fingers and whispers softly under her breath that enabling a spark of fire between her thumb and index finger. She lights the smoke without a lighter, not having a genuine care.

Pulling in a thick inhale of smoke, blue orbs gaze around her, casually looking from face to face. Her curious eyes stop on a particular person, not too far off from where she stands. From the looks of it, he looks like he’s either waiting for someone or deciding if he should go in or not. Hiding a smile, Maeve looks away, but, as always, it isn’t a second later she engages in a conversation with the stranger. “Hey, Cute and Uncomfortable,” She calls to the dark-haired male with an easygoing smile. A brow arches lightly when asking, “You smoke?” Her hand with the box of cigarettes extends to him, welcoming him to take it if he wants.

[callowaycain-blog]

Every aspect of parties made Calloway anxious, the large crowds, the noise, and the confined spaces all made his skin crawl, and yet, for reasons that he still wasn’t sure of himself, he was at a party on Halloween night. He had tried to justify it, thinking that maybe if he got drunk enough, he’d stop being paranoid long enough to enjoy himself, but after several drinks, he was only mildly drunk and still caught himself looking over his shoulder, so he figured he may as well quit while he was ahead and leave.

After pushing through more people than he cared to ever be in contact with in pursuit of the exit, the cool air hit him so fiercely that it left him breathless, and he walked a few more paces away from the exit before stopping to breathe it in. Nights like these made him wonder how he ever ended up in a place so farther north than the climate he was used to, but he welcomed the cold that he normally detested. Some stranger, a red-haired woman, drew him from his thoughts and he turned to face her, keeping his shoulder to the wall. “Uncomfortable, yes.” He admitted with a small smile as he gently took a cigarette from the box. “Thank you.” He said, catching her eyes before placing the smoke to his mouth and lighting it after a few clicks from his old lighter.

[callowaycain-blog]

Chrissy✉️Calloway

Chrissy: I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment

Chrissy: that leads me to something I've been meaning to ask you, though

Chrissy: how down would you be to try out a little something new with your blood magic?

Calloway: well no one died the last time, so sure

Calloway: i hope you know that was sarcastic, i do not approve of murder or wherever else you got that blood, chrissy

Calloway: but as long as you give me control of where the blood comes from, i'll be (mildly) down

[evedevane-deactivated20180402]

Eyes twinkle in delight at the sight of a pair of brilliant red boxing gloves hanging, seemingly gravitating her to them as soon as the fire witch had waltzed into Deadlift Gym. She had made a few visits here and at The Pit since her leaving from the rehabilitation, and it was at least some sort of method of coping. Far better than overdosing. Sensing someone approaching, she murmured thoughtfully, “aren’t these just so lovely?”

[callowaycain-blog]

The gym in the evening was something of a quiet reprieve for Calloway. Light streamed in the windows in a warm glow and most people were gone then, so the track was usually free. He liked running simply because he could put on headphones and focus on something physical for a while, not his paranoia or magic or any of the other endless things that bothered him at any given moment. He was walking towards the track when he heard an unfamiliar voice next to him. “I’ve never been a punching person.” He said uneasily with a small smile. “But I’m great at wearing those weird flat mitts and getting punched.”

[callowaycain-blog]

Chrissy✉️Calloway

Chrissy: it wasn't terrifying alright, it was fucking awesome

Chrissy: I have no idea what it was for, but it was creating all this really fucking bright blue light

Chrissy: is this a thing that happens in witchcraft?

Calloway: ok only to you would that be awesome

Calloway: i've never seen it where it lights up the whole damn sky or anything dramatic

Calloway: but smaller lights maybe, yeah

[callowaycain-blog]

Chrissy✉️Calloway

Chrissy: I gave some of my blood to you for some sort of spell

Chrissy: and you started chanting all this weird bullshit

Chrissy: we were near that fucking tree, us and a bunch of other people in cliche black cape things?

Chrissy: the more you chanted, the more this blue sort of light shone through the tree's branches over our heads

Chrissy: it was really cool until the little hooded guys started dropping?

Calloway: uh

Calloway: chrissy that sounds fucking terrifying

Calloway: what the hell was that spell even for??

Calloway: what the hell kind of dreams are you having?? i would wake up screaming every night!

[callowaycain-blog]

Chrissy✉️Calloway

Chrissy: I need your expertise

Chrissy: I had a really weird dream!!!

Calloway: the fact that those two are connected concerns me

Calloway: but we've already burned the bridge of me going back to sleep so please continue

[callowaycain-blog]

sydneymoreau:

“Oh well…I guess that’s good…and works for me, sorry I just,” she waved a hand, “kinda shocked that you’re not pancaked right about now is all.” The car had come way too close but sometimes luck was on people’s side, even if it was never on Sydney’s.

Calloway was mildly flattered that the stranger even bothered to check that he hadn’t died, as he’d been in many cities where people were much more rude. “Honestly, I’ve been shocked over that fact before today, so don’t worry about.” He assured her with a smile. “I’m Calloway, by the way.”

[callowaycain-blog]

Chrissy✉️Calloway

Chrissy: DUDE

Chrissy: D U D E

Calloway : chrissy what the fuck

Calloway: it's literally 3:49 am, what're you doing awake?

Calloway: what am i doing awake?

Calloway: whatever, i'm over it. it better be important, what do you need?

[callowaycain-blog]

chrissy-brooke:

The faerie considered his words carefully. “What’s the worst that could happen if something goes wrong?” She started, but she’d already made up her mind about the situation. 

“What do you need to undo the hex?” Light eyes only left his once the book had been plucked from the bag; she almost wanted to invasively reach over and start flipping through pages, maybe one day she’d ask him to. His smile was infectious. “If you pull this off, I owe you fifteen chocolate bars and a lap dance.” 

“If I remember right,” Calloway prefaced, though he definitely did as he had watched the relatively simple procedure several times. “It could strengthen the hex or flip it back on whoever’s blood is used.” 

“Uh,” He closed his eyes to better remember. “A cloth, a candle, chamomile, sage, twine, and you know, blood. I have that all at my apartment, unless you have that nonsense.” He opened the small grimoire, more of a journal than book, to a familiar page. He knew the procedure well, but he didn’t want to butcher the spell based on not being able to conjugate Latin. Reading his mother’s handwriting was never an easy task, but he thought he had it figured out, so he left the book open on the coffee table. “Neither of those are necessary,” He smiled. “But it would be helpful to know something about whoever hexed your friend, do you know who did it?”

[callowaycain-blog]

chrissy-brooke:

Calloway probably had a second to catch the faerie’s smile before she half squealed and threw toned arms over his shoulders for a hug, sinking further into the couch cushions as she lurked forward. “Good. I have a situation for you.” She pulled away then, but didn’t retreat all the way back to where she’d been before. “A friend of mine was cursed by another witch. He can’t eat, can’t drink. It’s killing him. I want to fix him, he’s my baby. He takes care of me. I want to do the same for him.”

Calloway wasn’t expecting the hug, but he welcomed it with a smile. As she pulled away and explained the situation with her friend, the smile faltered. Always the voice of doubt, he slowly said “I’m more than willing to help any friend of yours, especially since this is so, uh, dire.” He met her eyes. “But, it’s been a really long time. Both of you have to be prepared if I mess up or something.” He pulled his stolen grimoire from his bag and gave her a small, reassuring smile. “The good news, though, is I think I’ve seen this before, I’ve watched my aunt treat a couple of people.”

[callowaycain-blog]

profanidad:

It was one of those days when everything went just a little wrong. It wasn’t enough for him to feel like the universe was conspiring against his happiness, but enough that he took it personally anyway. A trip to the grocery store wasn’t supposed to take that long, but there he was, planted in line for several minutes while a man in thick glasses and a fanny pack argued with the cashier. He should’ve known he couldn’t trust a man in a fanny pack. 

The man ahead of him in line made conversation and Desmond turned his attention towards him, fleetingly wondering if that, too, was about to go wrong. “Ten dollars isn’t much incentive,” the witch mumbled, “and I happen to pour drinks for a living.” Incredibly overpriced drinks, in his humble opinion, but still. He threw him a pointed look. There was something about him that felt familiar the moment he focused his attention on the stranger. He realized a moment too late that the man was a witch like himself. “Think you can hex him from all the way over here?” He suggested, curling his lips into a tentative smile at his own joke.

Calloway flushed red, still embarrassed about being a witch, even among other witches. However, he hated that other guy more. Moving around often and being broke meant that he had worked more service industry jobs than he cared to count, and this guy was a good example of why he cared not to remember. “I can’t hex anyone from anywhere, lucky him. What about twenty dollars and the thrill of it all?”

[callowaycain-blog]

matildahunt:

 “ Well, it takes some training of course. it isn’t like I am going to throw you on an assignment right away or anything like that.” she reasoned with him. “ it takes time, compassion and patience. Something you have plenty of. We are always harder on ourselves then we need to be.” she explained to him with a faint smile as she walked with him. She had been in his shoes once. It was a long time ago. But to her it felt like just yesterday. Time doesn’t pass so much as just no exist when you were dead. 

 “ You know, sometimes I still am not sure if it is real. But this watch helps. It is something given to all grim reapers. It grounds us to reality a bit but also helps us pass through it easier.” she explained. “ I can’t really prove any of it is real. I can show you past memories of yours, go back to that time when you were a kid and you scraped your knee or when your family got it’s first pet. I can do stuff like that. but I can’t push a button and just magically make it all feel real. “ she explained. “ It is real. I am real, you are real and this is all real. But it won’t ever feel like it. I can’t speak for what’s on the other side. I chose to do this job and gave up going to that side for now.” she explained. “ Once you cross there is no turning back.” 

Calloway wasn’t totally convinced of her reasoning, but then again, he still wasn’t wholly convinced he was really dead, either. He guessed that he probably would never be. It was with this realization that he decided to trust her. The way she spoke, he had a hard time believing that she was in some elaborate plan to hurt him. He was already dead, and assuming he was going to hell, he had to believe the only way to go was up.

He was about to tell her, “Sure, Whatever, Let’s Do it” but before he could open his mouth, the world he had been struggling to grasp disappeared from view, revealing the town square and dozens of confused people. He looked around in confusion for a moment, still not processing what had happened, and then a wave of relief washed over him. 

“Holy hell.” He breathed in relief, pushing both hands to his hairline. He pulled them down and held them in front of his face, turning them over and then grinning. There was no blood. “I really thought for a minute,” He laughed, breathless with relief. “I really thought I had been killed with a hammer, and I really thought I was going to have this life- no, afterlife decision, oh my god.” 

He wondered for a moment if the woman had shared the same delusion. He didn’t care. A genuine smile crossed his face for what felt like the first time in years, and he said, “Well, presumably you just knew about my entire life a second ago, but I’m Calloway. Do you want to get a coffee or something?”