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@daisy-lancaster
MAXWELL HARVEYâ:
â ⌠midnight stroll? â come on, maxwell. even your lies are better than that. and even sheâs better than that. safer, brighter, smarter. sheâd always been better than him, perhaps this is a mere reflection of his personality. steadfast for once in his life, taking one of the qualities he admired most in her, and watching it blow up in his face. â i just looked in the kitchen so youâre probably right. â on his way in. he hates the way it sounds; like sheâs an afterthought and not the sole motivation for the fact he was able to keep himself going. the question lays unanswered, but he can make up the pattern of the jersey from where he stands in the dark. it comforts him to know she needs him, in a way. not dependency and definitely not necessity, in his mind, but at least preference. â somethinâ did happen. â he opts to take a seat next to her, shrugging off his jacket along the way and laying it by the chair near his bed. one of his arms moving to stretch out across the mattress behind her. not yet touching her but a suggestion that he was there, barely skimming the edge of the fabric of the jersey. â i know. iâm sorry. â he was worried about himself, but mostly daisy. ( always daisy. )Â
 â i missed you like hell. especially, â with what happened; his lips press together, and then he exhales as he starts. the previous sentence left floating in the air. â i walked in on a robbery, tried to fight the guy. i know it was dumb as hell but i didnât want you to come home and think we couldnât handle this and start thinkinâ that i needed protection. â he did, he can see that now. but hindsight never did anyone any good. â turns out, robbers donât really like beinâ walked in on. â lips press together, fingers shifting so his hand is outstretching over the mattress, grounding himself. â he uh â he shot me. â it feels biting with the speed it leaves his lips, not casual but objective. â and i thought that was it but ⌠i woke up. and i remembered that there was this woman when i fell off the balcony, â now heâs getting worked up, â and now i guess iâm just like you. â with a few differences, minor and major as he could see. all at the same time. â except i canât walk in the sun. â itâs the easiest way to tell her without telling her.
Thereâs a pang of something deep within her chest, something she hasnât felt in a while, not since she discovered the secret her mother had kept from her her entire life --- hurt. And it remains there, swelling and festering in the darkness, reflected in her orbs only momentarily before her gaze drops his and returns to the floor, beneath her dangling feet. âI see.â So he hadnât been looking for her, was she surprised no, whatever had happened had clearly taken precedence, but it didnât make it hurt any less. Think lashes settled upon rosy cheeks as her gaze remained settled upon the floor, and it isnât until he moves to take his place beside her that she can smell it. The difference, he didnât smell normal, nor like himself, not like her Max usually did. Yet she didnât move an inch, nor give an indication of the discovery instead remaining still as her dug her hands under her thighs in search of warmth. His apology leaves a bitter taste in her mouth and for a long moment she ponders as to whether itâs genuine or somewhat mechanical.Â
"If you missed me so much, why didnât you look for me?â Words left her lips before she could even give them a second thought, bitter perhaps that she hadnât gotten the chance to spend the time she had desired with him at the masquerade, and that since she had been left to nothing but her thoughts. Then she settles into a comfortable silence, the idea of a robbery having occurred in the very apartment she had just spent the last few nights alone in sent shivers down her spine. Sure she could hold her own but there was no telling what others were capable of. He shot me. It hits her in that moment, the change in his scent, the lack of a heartbeat, it wasnât something she had even realized until he mentioned it but it all made sense now. The truth fell upon her shoulders like a tonne of bricks. Each passing second was another jolt as the âwhat ifâsâ rolled in, like a tsunami, solid, aggressive and unrelenting. âYouâre telling me I spent hours scrubbing at my boyfriends blood --- completely oblivious to the fact heâd died in this damn apartment days before hand?â She murmured, voice strained as irises flickered from one side of the room to the other. The very place sheâd been living in alone for the past few days. It made her sick to her stomach, for the fact she hadnât been there. âWhat if theyâd returned for whatever they may have left behind and shot me? Maybe then youâd think twice about checking the kitchen.â It was harsh, selfish even, but it was all she could do to stop herself from breaking down. She was fuming, not at him but at herself for not having been there. Iâm like you. The idea that he was no longer the human he once was, that he could now match her strength for strength was as puzzling as it was comical. And for a long moment she was lost in her thoughts, processing everything as the guilt she had suppressed reared itâs ugly head once more. âIâm sorry.â She whispered, dark brown hues finally lifting to meet his gaze. Thereâs a sadness there, heavy and lingering. âIâm sorry I wasnât there for you. Through all of this.â Because as much as she wanted to be mad at him, to scream and punch anything in her way she couldnât, her own pride wouldnât allow it. This changed everything and yet nothing all at once.Â
MAXWELL HARVEYâ:
  â daisy! â his breath falters as her grip on his old hockey stick had, head tipping forward and then up to catch his breath. â i thought you were out. â he catches his breath, regains control of his senses, and starts to recognise his figure. â i was lookinâ for you but i thought â is that my jersey? â heâs relieved sheâs taken him up on his offer, even in his absence, and by the looks of her sleepwear, much more. starting to kick off his shoes by the door where he is, his socks touching the floorboards and willing himself to feel relief - calm. he was home, everything could go back to ⌠except it couldnât. not by a long shot. â things kind of went ⌠â exceptionally wrong? monumentally badly? a little south after heâd murdered the first person whoâd broken into his apartment? all of the above? â things happened. â that he would have to disclose to her, surely, and with the limited time heâs guessing he has before the sun comes up. he almost speaks thrice, but his hands just come out in an awkward gesture towards the bed. â i think you should be sittinâ down for this. â canât pour it all out in a letter this time.
âYou thought I was âoutâ?â Daisy couldnât help but utter a short mechanical laugh, as she shook her head, stray tendrils from her messy bun falling down to shape her features while she spoke. âIn the middle of the damn night?â Obvious disbelief in her tone as she set the hockey stick back against his wardrobe where it belonged, though she made a mental note to keep it there in case the next time someone walked in, wasnât her Max. And of course, in true Maxwell fashion there was no immediate explanation, no method to his madness. âYeah well, you canât have looked very well.â Was all she answered, arms folding across her chest in response to the chill in the air. The comment about her attire ignored, though she had taken to the jersey in his absence, his scent lingering despite his lack of presence. It was reassuring somewhat. And perhaps it was the fact she had just been awoken in a somewhat violent fashion, or maybe it was the concern she had bottled up that emphasized the harshness of her melodic tone. âOkay, so something happened --- would you spit it out already?â She countered though opted to settle on the edge of the bed as dark brown orbs lifted from the floor to meet his. âI was worried, you know.â It almost feels like a token comment as her tone softens, and her gaze turns curious. Whatever it was, at least he wasnât stuck in a hospital bed again thus it couldnât be too bad, could it?
MAXWELL HARVEYâ:
 pros of the vampire experience included hopping between his apartment and the magical school he had to attend to avoid killing people, only being able to go back to said apartment in the middle of the night lest he wanted to be burnt to a crisp in the sun and ⌠the fact he was pretty sure daisy was going to kill him. again. ( which, by the way, he wouldâve entirely deserved. ) his keys setting in the door lock, feeling foreign as he stepped back into the apartment, the tip of his sneakers touching the tip of the blood stain by the door. shutting the door behind him, trying to silence it as it set on the latch. making his way over through the living room, and then the kitchen, looking for any sign of well daisy. it looked clean, or as clean as heâd left it, and so he ventured back into the bedroom. an exhausted sigh passing his lips before his hands stretched up over his head, â itâs ME! â called out when thereâs suddenly a figure in the darkness, his jacket caught over his arms where he put his hands up.
Sleep had been hard to come by since the masquerade, turns out being trapped in a confined space wasnât always a good thing for the subconscious mind. And yet it was just as she felt herself dozing off after god knows how many hours that she heard it, the unlocking of the front door. Eyes snapped open and before she could even comprehend what she was doing she was shifting silently out of bed, legs bare as her petite frame was cloaked in one of his many over-sized jerseys. Days she had waited for him, occupying her time with anything that could be considered a distraction, anything that would settle the growing feeling of worry as the days went by, Nevertheless the red head was sure he was off with his brother, probably messed up in something she didnât wish to ask about, that had to be it. Everything would be okay, right? And yet as footsteps approached she grabbed the nearest weapon she could, one of his old hockey sticks from the closet and made her way to stand before the door, prepared to swing at whomever thought it was a good idea to break into an apartment at 2am or whatever ungodly hour it was, in the morning. The moment the the door creaked open she raised the stick, hands gripped tightly as she moved to swing --- only to falter the moment two familiar brown orbs appeared in the moonlit room. âMax..â She breathed, hands falling to her side as she dropped the stick to the floor breathing hard as the adrenaline began to slowly wear off. âWhere in all of hell have you been?â She countered, hand shifting to clutch at her chest. Â
âAre you gonna let me in, or am I gonna have to eat this whole delicious pizza by myself? Which, by the way I totally could do, I just am not sure itâs that good of an idea.â Daisy remarked stepping back from the door as it opened, large pizza box in hand as she awaited a response.Â
OLIVIA RAYMONDâ:
  â take two steps closer, and i will gut you with this knife. â thatâs a normal olivia raymond greeting; sheâs more than capable and more than than pretty enough for people to believe sheâs not. itâs a good balance to her. turning around, deadly weapon still clutched between her fingers. â what do you want? âÂ
âWoah okay, you can put the claws away.â Grace mused, hands in the air in emphasis that she meant the blonde no harm. âYou dropped these back there, Iâm eight-two percent sure theyâre important.â She joked, lips twisting into a small smile before a porcelain hand extended toward the other revealing a small set of keys.Â
EUTERPE âFARRONââ:
      âif youâre about to pull out a gun, i REALLY wouldnât recommend it.â a swipe back and then swipe bellow the knees and he was DOWN. she turned to who heâd been attempting to mug ( who he FAILED to mug because s c r e w muggers. ( be more SOPHISTICATED on your crime or donât do it at all. ) ) and euterpe spoke. â you okay?â
Daisy had started retreating, wary of the curb behind her as the male approached. She didnât know who he was nor what he was capable of for that matter, nor did she want to hurt him should her anger get out of control. Nevertheless his demand for her wallet and phone didnât go without response. âYou donât need to do this..â She answered, stumbling backward as her good connected with the dip in the gutter. Only instead of the other advancing, a woman stepped in between, and before she knew it her pursuer was on the ground. âHow did you --- I --- thank you.â She breathed, genuinely grateful for the others interference.Â
GABRIEL PARKERâ:
âAlright, so first we all go to a ball, some crazy shit happens and now everyone is acting like it didnât happen? Am I missing something because . I am totally confusedâ
âYour guess is as good as mine, perhaps itâs just their way of processing it, as screwed up as that may well be to those of us that know better than to play pretend.â
WILLIAM FLYNNâ:
    âYeah I know this place well enough,â Heâd been attending since he was 13 actually. âYou looking for somewhere?â
âNo ---- more exploring rather, kinda hard to come to terms with the fact a place like this even exists.â Because it certainly wasnât a thing back in Canada, least not where she had grown up anyway. âItâs like the world of Buffy the vampire slayer come to life, creepy as all hell but kind of intriguing..â
GRACE SALVATOREâ:
grace wasnât used to this, events like these? she never went to. mystic falls had the founders ball but she was never able to go, she didnât find out she was a founding family until she was sixteen and by then she was more interested in finding her family. the blonde straightened her dress and let out a breath, walking into the ballroom and her eyes darted around the room for anyone she knew.
Daisy hadnât planned on attending such an event, nevertheless she had donned the red dress she had spent the last of her savings on and took her entrance with confidence. Even if the anxiety of being around so many people was slowly eating her alive, she was quick to swallow her nerves as she came to a standstill beside the tentative blonde. âNice dress.â She mused, offering a small smile in greeting as she stole a glance in the others direction. âLittle word of advice, fake it to you make it --- works a treat every time.â
Attending the Masquerade event:
                     Daisy Lancaster
EVAN DELAHAYEâ:
     â oh, SHIT, man. â he shrugs, but the glee is visibly webbed in his features. â i have no idea what iâm drinkinâ, but iâm pretty sure itâs two shots in and iâm already wasted. good in my book. â
âI do believe, people call that being a light weight these days?â Daisy remarked, rather amused at the otherâs behavior, as she pulled a flash from her pursed, taking a long swig of the bottle before returning it to itâs rightful place. The werewolf was still enamored by the extravagantly decorated school. âWho knew the headmasters of this place also specialized in such elaborate parties.â
LIZZIE SALTZMANâ:
      â among several other things. â sheâs a flawed individual. she gets it. arms stretch slightly, an attempt to soothe a bit of soreness and sheâs quick to have her interest latch on to daisyâs words. because this whole backstory to her and max is actually news to lizzie. â nothing like some cursed dead trees to get you to make the bold leap of faith, huh? â a jesting smile reaches her lips and she finds herself properly awwâd by this concept. itâs the complete opposite of her and will, seeing how theyâre only now getting to know each other, long after these uncanny sentiments took bloom. â iâm sure you do. he needs all the help in keeping himself alive, after all. did i mention he tripped and stabbed himself? â she did mention it. and she knows it. itâs only to further hammer in the point. but itâs spoken with just enough fondness to make it clear sheâs not seeing it as a nuisance or anything of the sort. even though she normally would. the redheadâs admission draws a simple nod of her head. itâs not an extraordinary revelation. the supernatural is her literal life. â my parents are the headteachers of the salvatore school. and if it isnât obvious by now, that place is the charles xavier institute, except itâs the twilight equivalent. there are plenty of werewolves there andâ letâs just say complications and issues are part of the norm, so⌠â
âWell, not that itâll make you feel any better but weâre all flawed individuals, perfection is just some bullshit line made up and stamped onto the back of a box of lucky charms. The ultimate impossible goal.â Daisy remarks, shoulders rising and falling in a shrug of indifference as she exhales a sigh. âSomething like that, youâd be surprised as to what can be considered as an aphrodisiac these days.â The red head joked, the wry smile on her lips mere evidence of this. âNot yet but then again I didnât exactly give the chance to do so last time--â She adds, attention shifting momentarily from the dust bunnies to that of the other as she offers a small somewhat apologetic smile. â--but I heard, something about going up against a curb and coming off second best? Thatâs Max for you.â Long red tendrils fall from her shoulders to shape her face as she shakes her head. Though the otherâs comment draws her attention furthermore, the idea of a school specifically for those alike her had the girl taken aback, even if it made complete sense. âIâd heard of the school before, wasnât sure it was entirely real however. Must have been nice for you though, growing up around others like you ---- knowing you werenât alone or some freak.â Despite her words, her tone is void of all malice and instead is laced with something akin to intrigue.Â
HEPHAESTUSââââ:
Hephaethus still bowed his head regardless. âI promise I would never do that without anyoneâs consent.â He finally took off his glasses. âI just felt something in my chest.â He smiled at the other. âThatâs my fault.â He gave a curt bow. âHello, Daisy. I am Hephaestus.â He said without much thought. It was the few times he revealed himself to a human.Â
âItâs okay, I get it --- thereâs nothing wrong with being emotive, especially not after all youâve endured over the past few weeks.â Daisy reassured, offering a smile of her own in return. âAnyone ever tell you, you apologize too much?â She teased, brows raising in realization of the otherâs true name, though she quickly covered her surprise with a grin somewhat flattered that he had trusted her with his true identity given how easy it would have been to lie. âHephaestus, itâs a pleasure, even with the whole fire show.â
MAXWELL HARVEYâ:
  â brief? â teased back, word easily laced with the same tone she has. â maybe you need more reasons. â longer, more expansive reasons. her hand traces over the details of his jersey, and the subtle movements of her hand are the only driving force in remembering heâs wearing one. because of course he is, because heâs never seen without one. itâs heavy on his shoulders suddenly, ironic because everything else seems lifted at present. itâll come down again. probably when he wakes up; when heâs not by daisy anymore, when the day sets in. but for now, he feels as light as he can. ( sans the jersey. ) â iâll keep it off. more money for those. â gesturing to the now empty vodka and lime that lay near them. and more time for this; an implication that matched hers as hers as a clear attempt. his gaze meets hers, legs still touching hers, lips only parted for a moment. â thereâs this thing called biology. i always sucked at it? â the shirt comes off, and he throws it back further over the couch. â but i passed it eventually. â he reaches down for the edge of his own jersey and, barely clumsily, pulls it off. throws it off to the other end of the couch. â with extra credit. â his hands come back to meet at the small of her back. ( leave it to maxwell harvey to turn tension to tension and idiocy. )Â
âOkay so maybe brief isnât the right word, but you know what I mean.â Least she assumed he would, given the male more often than not knew what she was trying to say before she did. He understood her unlike anyone else, perhaps that was why she never looked for other friends throughout their years in high-school. Sure Daisy had enough, but no one she trusted and cared for like she did the lovable idiot before her. âPerhaps you could help me find those reasons?â She added, distracted by the patterns she continued to absentmindedly trace upon the material of his jersey. A nod was given however as he motioned to the empty bottles that lay at their feet, âI like the way you think Harvey and trust me when I say it shows.â She teased, a chuckle surpassing her lips as he spoke. âYou know youâll need a lot of extra credit if youâre to work your way back to an A+.â Voice low once more as hands meet his at the hem of his jersey, as she aids the male in pull the material over his head. âThough I have the upmost faith in you finding a way.â
JAMES GOLDSTEINâ:
He shook his head, raising a hand to flick Daisy on the forehead.  âIf he ainât your boyfriend I donât know what the hell heâd be. What do yaâll call it now a-days then? Fuck buddies?â A large grin, loving to see the flush on her cheeks. Â
As she got serious the grin dropped. Daisy had never mentioned this before. Warmth spread in his heart by her sincere words.  âYouâre like a daughter to me Daisy. Iâd do anything for ya.â Between her and Kayla, James had his hands full of strong willed, hot headed women. He never thought at this point in his life heâd have two daughters, even if they werenât by blood.
That was a hard question to answer. He didnât want to get her hopes up, but it was important to stay positive. She needed this.  âI think he can at least point us in the right direction. Iâll do everything I can to find a way to make this better. Thereâs gotta be something.â
Daisy couldnât help the burst of laughter that escaped her as the other spoke, âI donât ever want to hear the word fuck-buddies from your mouth again.â She laughter, clutching at her stomach before her amusement subsided and her flustered cheeks remained in place. âAlright, you win --- weâre more than friends, but as for a bonafide label we havenât quite had that conversation yet.â She added, lips twitching into a small smile.Which only increased as the conversation shifted, instinctively she shifted, arms wrapping around the other in a tight embrace. The red head had never been accustomed to having a father, but she imagined this was what it was like if she had known her real one. âDitto.â She remarked, feigning a playful punch to his shoulder as she pulled back. âSo thereâs hope --- youâre right, itâs a start at least.â