"You fancy sharing any of that good stuff?" He asked with an eyebrow raised, although his statement proved he knew how she felt, would have done the same in her position. "Maybe once we get home, though," he allowed after a second. "I'm not sure I trust my driving skills after that." Or at least, not with someone else in the car when he wasn't sure he'd forgive himself should they be hurt.
"Alright. In here," he opened the passenger door for Elora and helped her in, feeling her unsteadiness and closing the door as well in the hopes of preventing her from accidentally slamming it - the Ford, although otherwise sound, did tend to respond badly to passenger violence and he'd replaced the door once already. "You want a vape?"
His question surprised her a little - her and Cass had smoked some weed together before, but never had they done anything as drastic as shoot up in each other’s company. It was something Elora did completely alone, in the dark and solitude of her messy bedroom, something she was kind of ashamed of, that she held close to her chest. “Ah- yeah. Course. Can sell you some. Don’t think I should touch any more tonight though…” she chuckled softly, eyes blinking slowly as he helped her into the car.
She hadn’t realised just how exhausted she was until she was settled in the warmth of the vehicle, head dropping back and eyes flickering shut for just a moment as she let out a deep sigh, glad to be warm and safe. When was the last night she’d actually slept? She couldn’t remember. “Mm? Oh- yeah, if you’ve got one going,” she nodded, stifling a yawn as she looked over at her friend.
"Elora," he repeated the name, finding that it suited her the same way she said Fionn suited him, something about the flow of the syllables matching up with her delicate features in his mind, making it so now that he knew the name, he couldn't imagine her with any other. "El," he copied her phrasing, but it didn't seem to fit quite so well, the simple two letter nickname failing to fully describe the aura the girl was giving off, for lack of a better word."I was- gonna say Lora," he admitted quietly, giving her a wide eyed look of innocence, "is that- would that be okay too?"
He supposed it wouldn't matter if it was or was not, he doubted that Elora would want to see him again after this catastrophe, and with confusion he realised a second later that this thought had caused a pang of upset in his stomach, that maybe he wanted to see her again. Something about her desire to help just seemed to pure, devoid of any other meaning and he appreciated that, appreciated not having to scrabble for a deeper meaning he didn't understand - why did people always throw those in and confuse him? He'd never got that. He supposed he himself had never been understood either.
He nodded and tried to stay as still as he could, although his hands fidgeted a little, fingers tapping against each other with nervous energy, but when she began he didn't even know why he had been nervous. It didn't feel off, the way so many forms of touch did, simply cooling and calming, and he visibly relaxed just a tiny bit. "I think it's working?"
Lora. It was the first time anyone had used the nickname, and it sounded so sweet coming from Fionn’s mouth, El’s stomach flipping a little without her consent. Her cheeks flushed scarlet and her eyes pulled from his for a moment as she nodded a little too eagerly, wanting nothing more than to hear him call her the name once more. “Lora is okay. I like it,” she hummed, eyes finally finding his again as she offered him a shy smile.
She was worried at first that the intimate action would be too much, that he would shy away from her before her saliva had a chance to take any effect. But then as if by magic, he seemed to settle under her touch, her hand moving to rest over his chest, feeling his heart thud steadily beneath her palm as she continued to work. At his words she hummed softly against his skin, continuing to suck for just a little longer before breaking away from him, peering at the wound closely with a furrowed brow. “I think so, yeah… looks much better, it’s already closed up. Does it still hurt? How do you feel…?” she asked quietly, concerned eyes finding his as her hand moved from his chest.
”I can’t imagine you as anything but who you are. I mean, I wouldn’t want you to be anyone else either. I’m friends with you the way you are,” Cass said petulantly, unhappy at the idea of a different Elora despite it being he who had suggested it. Well, he couldn’t exactly allow his one friend to be changed in any way. He couldn’t see himself finding another, he hadn’t even intended to have one close friend.
Which was exactly why he’d have to protect her, and his arm went around Elora as she stumbled, trying to provide gentle support, stop her falling right on her face as he led the way back to the car. “I thought the Cass special was shooting up and chasing it with a joint,” Cass suggested with a dark laugh, for just a moment a look of discontent with himself crossing his face, before he covered it, expression returning to one of emotionless humour. “‘S why I’m out late finding you, isn’t it?” Answering her question with a question, he left it at that, reluctant to divulge the sleepless nights he seemed to experience more often than not, brief spells of sleep ruined by nightmares forcing him awake again, until he ended up giving up and allowed himself to just lay there staring at the ceiling.
He sounded childish as he protested the very thought of the change he had suggested, and yet his words meant more to Elora than perhaps she would let on. Cass had been the first person El had met since running away from home who had seen her as she truly was, all her faults and flaws, and had stuck by her anyway. He truly cared for her - it wasn’t lost on her that whenever she was coming over he just happened to have extra food so that she could eat, or that when she knew she looked particularly tired he would offer his couch to her for the night. He was a good kid, and she loved him.
She flinched on instinct as his arm moved around her but then immediately softened into his touch, grateful for his support. She wasn’t used to having much physical contact with people, but she craved it even if she wouldn’t admit it. His words made her chuckle for just a moment, but a pang of regret welled up in her. He knew he so well. Too well. “Yeah… yeah. T’is. Couldn’t help it - picked up this new stuff and it just looked so good…” she muttered, tripping once more, hand flying out for him to steady herself.
Younger than her though he might be, he sometimes felt a little like an older brother to El. More cynical, maybe a little more suspicious, concerned for her. Cass hadn't asked to feel that way, but it seemed near impossible to shake the protective feelings, and so he had to let them be where they were and do what he could to help the girl. "Hey, since when were you a lady? Anyway," smile not quite reaching his eyes, "you know I'd only try it on if you bleached your hair. Got to have some restrictions," he explained with a nonchalant shrug, as if he hadn't rampaged through half the town's beds with little concern for any such restrictions. Still, he'd never seen Elora that way, and doubted he ever would.
"Calm, I'm parked over there," he gestured vaguely toward the end of the alley, where a crack of light indicated that it opened up into a bigger street, one with more space on the side of the road for him to parallel park and hope he didn't end up with another parking fine. "It's no problem. Long as you don't mind Joy Division." His car, albeit reliable from an engine perspective, had no aux and a CD player which lacked the ability to skip songs. Which Elora would likely be aware of from the last time Cass had driven her home and put in the other CD available - David Bowie, obviously. But he'd humour her with the second option this time.
Even though he was only teasing the words stung just a little - she knew how she was perceived. Dirty-ish baggy clothes, straggly hair, zero skills when it came to makeup - she tended not to care much about her appearance but there were moments like these when she remembered that perhaps she should care. No-one was ever going to find her attractive if she didn’t at least put a little bit of effort in. “Ha. Funny. God can you imagine me with bleached blonde hair? Don’t think I could pull that look off y’know,” she slurred, tripping just a little as she closed the gap between them. Cass had a penchant for blondes, that much was clear, and Elora was relieved that she fell within the brunette category. The two were mates and she’d never considered him as anything more than that.
“Yeah? Mmkay. Sorry, bit wobbly,” she chuckled softly, taking another tentative step towards him as her hand found his arm, steadying herself slightly. “Fuck- I was fine till like ten minutes ago. Fucking wrecked mate,” she mumbled, offering him a tired smile. “Joy Division, the Cass special. C’mon then. What're you doing out this late anyway?” she asked, feet dragging a little as she blinked slowly beginning to make her way towards the direction of his car.
"Just the usual," Cass said amiably. He'd known where to find Elora on his way back from work - how could he not, when he ended up using her services so regularly - but he couldn't quite lie to himself and say their interactions were purely business transactions anymore. He didn't enjoy the feeling of caring about people, didn't enjoy having someone else to let down, but he'd been forced to allow himself Elora and that meant he'd have to do his best to deserve her. Which meant subtle check ins.
"You look like crap," he said simply without any sugar coating. "And I heard there might be another weird tidal wave thing. You want a lift back to the hotel?" The offer was there, and he hoped she'd take it, silently begged her to. Even if it was left as her choice, him refusing to admit he cared enough to want her to get back safe.
Cass. One of the few people Elora had met since moving to Calypso who had somehow managed to slip through the cracks, get past the wall Elora liked to pretend she was so good at maintaining. He was cool, aloof, charming and sarcastic - you wouldn’t think much of him. And yet the next thing El knew, he’d been cooking her dinner, letting her sleep on his couch, sharing the weed he’d just bought off of her. A good guy, despite what some might say, and someone El had come to love and need more than she would care to admit.
Funny that he seemed worried about her when his usual was a quarter of an ounce and at least two hits of heroin - the boy was a bit fucked in the head, but who was she to judge. “Charming. You really know how to make a lady feel good about herself,” she drawled, voice dripping in sarcasm, although the words didn’t make her feel the best. Not because she was worried about herself, more that she hated to worry him. Hated the thought that she might ever be a burden. “A lift? Yeah… yeah. That’d be good. If that’s all good…” she nodded, hoisting her backup up a little on her narrow shoulder.
"Lick it? I didn't- know that was a thing?" But Fionn really hadn't known a lot before ending up in Calypso, and to be honest he still wouldn't consider himself well versed in the ways of the supernaturals, truth be told he barely knew anything outside of the obvious stereotypes. And it was difficult for him to believe the girl would tell him a lie, even though they'd only met a few short minutes ago. Something in her brown eyes had Fionn placing his trust completely in her, withholding nothing. "Fionn," he murmured, his voice soft, the introductory smile he paired with the words slightly sheepish. "Uh. My name. It's Fionn. I figured if you're gonna lick my neck, um, we may as well not be strangers."
Not that throwing names around made them any closer to each other, but it was a mark of politeness his parents had drummed into him even when he held no understanding of social cues - and to be completely honest he still didn't - and it was difficult to shift the habit even now that he had long since left them and their ways behind. A quiet wince left his lips as she swiped at the wound, flinching away before he forced himself to be still, to react less. "Sorry. I'm- I'm sorry."
“Yeah, yeah,” she chuckled weakly, cheeks flushing as her eyes dropped down to her lap for a moment. Perhaps this had been a bad idea, to suggest something quite so intimate. Her only intention was to help him though - it was the very least she could do. She had nothing to offer him but herself in this moment, and she hoped it might be enough. “Yeah it’s a weird thing with wolves, our saliva has like, healing powers or whatever… and if we get hurt we usually heal much more quickly than a human would. Kinda cool,” she shrugged. “Fionn. That’s- I really like that name. Suits you,” she murmured softly, offering him a little smile.
“I’m- I’m Elora. Mates call me El,” she offered in return, unsure why she’d needed to specify her nickname. But then again, she already felt like she was more than just a stranger to Fionn, and hoped that he would come to use the nickname soon enough. It was clear that he was uncomfortable, in pain, and the sooner she got on with it the better. “Don’t be. You don’t need to be sorry. You’ve done nothing wrong yeah? This vamp should’ve known better,” she hummed, hoping to reassure him as she pulled the tissue back from the wound.
“Just- here- try and stay as still as you can-“ she instructed gently, hands finding his shoulders as she leaned in, tongue darting out to lap over the wound, lips fixing to his warm skin. The blood didn’t taste pleasant but she knew her saliva was working, the blood-flow slowing immediately as she licked back and forth over the puncture wounds.
he knew where to find elora, for it was never too difficult as allard alley had a particular reputation for those that hung around it. thankfully, autumn nights had begun to creep it, dark falling early so jean-claude walked with confidence down the alley, ignoring some of its other seedier patrons. she wasn't too far away, the two colliding slightly and he didn't need to see her to know she was buzzed. j.c could smell it, heart the way it affected her heartbeat - wasn't it considered bad form to snort the product you were selling?
"you," the vampire replied, dark eyes peering over tinted spectacles to look over elora. "though, you don't look nor sound in any fit state to converse right now,"
Despite how absolutely fucked she was, her wolf vision had no trouble identifying the vampire. In fact if she’d been paying proper attention, she would’ve realised sooner that the familiar scent had been him minutes before he’d arrived, but being aware of her surroundings wasn’t exactly at the very top of her priority list. She had an air of neglect about her - she didn’t look after herself very well and it showed, hair knotty and clothes not exactly clean, eyes featuring quite impressive dark bags beneath them.
“Me,” she chuckled dryly, shaking a head as she reached out to plant a gentle, friendly punch to the vampire’s upper arm. She felt like she was in a video game, her movements slow and static, as if everything had a strobe effect over it. “M’fiiiiine,” she drawled, dark, tired eyes looking up at him. “Fine,” she repeated, shaking her head slowly as if trying to rid her ears of some invisible blockage.
"Oh- I- oh- okay-" Clearly he hadn't been expecting further assistance beyond Elora asking after him, had assumed it was one of those weird things people did to signify that they were polite, even when they didn't give two fucks what the answer of the question was. Fionn had never quite understood it, never quite understood anyone. But he understood that the tone of her voice was one of concern, and so he allowed her to help him to the bench, sitting down heavily as his whole body weight sank down devoid of her support and looking up with hazy eyes.
"I consented," he said quickly, afraid to get the vampire into trouble when surely the mistake was Fionn's own, he hadn't made any sound to complain when he'd started to feel dizzy, hadn't explained that it was going too far. "It was- it was a trade," he admitted, slightly sheepish, not wanting to go into what the trade had been for. "It's- it's gonna wear off, right? The feeling sick and...?" His hand went absentmindedly to his neck, still slick with blood, and the sight when he glanced back at his fingers made him nauseous enough to avert his gaze.
Flora’s eyes stayed fixed to Fionn’s face as he settled back into the bench, shoulders slumping forward and eyes blurry as he turned to look at her. She nodded slowly as he spoke, offering him a small hum to indicate she was hearing him - there was nothing surprising about what he was telling her, and he was not the first person she’d seen in this state. But there was something almost naive about the way he was speaking, a gentle sort of innocence she felt a strange pull to protect.
“It’ll wear off, yeah… but we need to get you some food,” she murmured, hand moving slowly over his back, hoping the warmth of her touch would help to soothe him just a little. “And some water,” she added, hand leaving him as she shrugged off her backpack, unzipping it and fishing around for a moment before retrieving a packet of tissues. “Here-“ she murmured, taking his hand carefully and swiping at the wet blood covering his fingers before bringing the tissue to his neck, pressing firmly to the puncture marks.
“Sorry- that might be a bit sore. The bleeding will stop soon. I- ah-“ she paused, cheeks flushing a little. “I’m a wolf… and I… if I lick the wound, it’ll heal almost instantly. Would that be okay? Sorry I know its- its a bit weird,” she chuckled weakly, eyes flitting back to his as her hand remaining pressed to his neck, holding the tissue there.
Impaler was Elora’s go to spot when dealing, but tonight had been a quiet one and so she found herself a little buzzed, trawling up and down Allard Alley, kicking the occasional stone into the street as she walked. Perhaps she might find someone interested in buying from her - the area tended to attract a slightly more rough set of folks. Not that Elora minded - she preferred it. Preferred to be among those who were perhaps just as messed up as she was.
Rounding the corner her shoulder nudged against someone else’s and she let out a lazy little chuckle, hooded eyes glancing blearily up the stranger. “M’sorry mate- y’alright? Ah- you looking for anything?” she asked, brows crinkling as she shifted on her feet.
"I-" Out of habit more than anything else, he stiffened at her hands on his upper arms. Fionn wasn't a fan of physical touch, particularly not when it came as a surprise, from a stranger, out of nowhere with no time for him to even mentally prepare for the sensation. But just as soon as he had tensed, he found himself loosening up again, melting against her - perhaps at least half due to the blood loss making him unsteady on his feet, but also the reassurance in her tone, lacking any ulterior motives, lacking any judgement, simply asking if he was okay. He was naive at the best of times, too trusting of those around him, and the simplicity of her question had Fionn placing his trust entirely in this stranger, truly believing she simply wanted to know that he was alright.
"Yeah, um, but I don't think they meant to take- to take too much," Fionn was already trying to make excuses, refusing to believe this was something which could have happened intentionally, "or maybe they didn't? Is this just how it's meant to feel?" He asked aloud, tone confused, slightly afraid, "all... dizzy?"
Much like this stranger, Elora wasn’t usually one for physical contact. She hadn’t had much of it since running away from home, and even then her family had never been particularly affectionate. It felt too close, too intimate. And yet- she couldn’t just let this guy collapse on the ground, something it seemed he would do if she didn’t slip a thin arm around his waist, hooking his own arm over her shoulder. “Here- let’s find you somewhere to sit,” she mumbled. “Can you walk? That’s it-“ she encouraged, her voice soft and as reassuring as she could make it, helping him towards an old bench at the end of the alleyway and lowering him to sit.
“I’ve not been fed from myself, but I work just over there-“ she answered, nudging her head in the direction of Impaler. “You shouldn’t feel this unwell - I think whoever it was that fed from you took it a bit far… you gotta watch out, it’s better when you’re in the club, s’legit in there. Rules n stuff. I wouldn’t let some random vamp feed from you,” she explained, her voice quiet, a tentative hand on his back. “Did you- did you consent…?”
Location: Mallowsweet Gardens
Time: Afternoon after the Flood
For: Anyone || @calypsostarters (max of three)
Character: Cairo King
"Mind your feet, please," he said from behind a pile of cut sunflowers. It was the end of the season, so he had to work diligently to make sure that the next batch of growing flowers were set in their places. His boss wasn't about to let anything as simple as a flood stop him from taking care of the flowers that needed them. "The sunflowers will be left out to dry and I'll harvest the seeds..." he wrinkled his nose, there was always going to be someone who was upset when parts of the garden were being cycled to new growth.
The wolf did his best to be polite to everyone - even if the fae gave him a wide berth and vampires set him on edge ... actually, vampries and sirens did. They smelled off to his sensitive nose. It was why he liked flowers - they tended to make everyone smell at least tolerable.
He wiped his hands on the hand towel he kept on his hip. He had other flowers to make arrangements with. "You're not the one who is looking for your anniversary bouquet, are you? Boss said that it'll be tomorrow, and I can't move you up the queue."
Shaken by the flood and seeking some form of comfort, Elora had made her way out to the Mallowsweet Gardens that spread out around the back of Hotel La Lune. She knew she’d find Cairo there, a slightly older wolf who she’d come to quite appreciate. He had a calming energy that she seemed to need, and she liked watching him work. “I’m minding, I’m minding,” she huffed, although the grumbling was that of a younger sister winding an older brother up - that was the nature of their relationship.
“Yeah? Will you plant the seeds for next year? More sunflowers?” she asked, scuffing her foot against the grass as she followed him towards another section of the garden. She couldn’t help but break into a giggle as he asked his question - he clearly hadn’t looked up yet. “Cairo- it’s me,” she chuckled. “No anniversary bouquet needed,” she added, shaking her head as she let out another soft chuckle, shoving her hands into the pockets of her loose jeans. “The gardens all good? The flood didn’t come up this far did it?”
Maybe he'd fucked up, was a thought which crossed Fionn's slightly addled mind. The vampire had assured him trading blood for weed was a good deal, and that it wouldn't even hurt, and with the cut hours he was about to deal with what with The Catch needing repairs, he'd thought it would be a good shout to save money. That being said, was he meant to feel so... out of it?
He put a hand to his neck as he stumbled along dizzily, reaching out to the wall for stability. He'd expected it to be a small wound and to heal quick, but his hand came away wet and even in the dim alley he could see the liquid was dark, was his own blood. The thought made Fionn slightly nauseous, or maybe that was the blood loss, and with the distraction and his vision blurring he barely saw the girl pass in front of him and nearly bumped straight into her, only at the last minute managing to take an unsteady step back with a wide eyed, unfocused look of apology, "sorry, I'm sorry-"
Still feeling the gentle buzz of the line she’d done just an hour before, Elora felt almost as if she was floating as she walked out of Impaler. It was the only club in Calypso Cove that allowed vampires to pay to feed from willing donors, and it attracted the perfect clientele for Elora’s drug-dealing. Jean-Claude, the owner of the club, knew about El’s activities but chose to turn a blind eye - his business benefitted hers and hers benefitted his in return.
Taking a turn down the familiar street which would lead her back to her apartment, her eyes found the stumbling frame of a man she didn’t recognise, wolf vision able to make out his expression, the trickle of blood rolling down the side of his neck a good indication that he had recently been fed from. Before she could say a word he had bumped into her, stumbling slightly and offering her a slurred apology. Her hands moved to his upper arms to steady him, brow furrowing with concern as she looked over him. She didn’t tend to like to get involved in other people’s lives, their dramas, but in the same breath she could turn a blind eye when a human was so clearly in trouble. “Hey- s’ok,” she murmured. “You okay…? Someone feed from you?”
[May, 27, She/Her, GMT] is that Elora Luna Louve? They bear a striking resemblance to Zendaya. I heard she is a 23 year old werewolf who came to the Hotel La Lune 1 year ago seeking a quiet place to live and hide. Word has it she is a drug dealer. I guess the locals will have a lot to say about her…
Elora was born in a small hippie town in France called Arle. She grew up surrounded by Christian imagery, hippie markets, wild flamingos, and stunning white horses which roamed the neighborhood. Her upbringing was wild and free, and for the most part both her and her younger sister were left to their own devices, free to explore and discover without much parental supervision.
When she was seven, a nearby horse gave birth to a little foal in the middle of town, and unfortunately passed away during the birth. Elora’s heart hurt for the tiny creature, and so she took it home, begging her parents to let her keep it. They agreed (albeit reluctantly), and Elora set to work keeping the little foal alive. The pair developed an inseparable bond, to the point where Elora slept in the stables wth the little pony. She named her Moonbeam, and soon taught her how to be ridden.
They went on many adventures together, and Elora vowed that when she was old enough she would ride Moonbeam out of Arle and across the country in search of bigger and better things. On her sixteenth birthday, her and her younger sister decided to sleep out in the barn. Elora lit a bunch of candles as the barn didn’t have electricity, and they left them burning when they went to sleep. Elora woke up in the middle of the night barely able to breathe due to a thick cloud of smoke - a candle had knocked over and started a fire. She managed to escape but her sister did not. Grief-stricken, guilt-ridden and horrified at what she deemed was her fault, she took off on Moonbeam, leaving behind the burning barn. She was barely ten miles out of her little village before she was attacked by a lone werewolf, leaving her badly wounded and changed forever.
Somehow, Moonbeam managed to get her to a nearby town, and her wound was looked after there, but after the intense changes she experienced after that first full moon, she knew it wasn’t safe for her to be around people. She had to make the dreadful decision to abandon Moonbeam, taking off into the forest, desperately seeking someone, anyone who could understand what she was going through. Unfortunately she never did, and has spent most of her adult life alone. She’s never had a relationship, although she occasionally enjoys the company of others, never letting them stick around long enough to get to know her, or her them.
Fast forward to many years later, Elora has found herself residing in Hotel La Lune, making a living as a drug dealer and using drugs and alcohol to make the days go by. She’s let her nose quite literally guide her, heading wherever she can find the next hit. She didn’t mean to settle down in Calypso Cove, but being around fellow wolves for the first time has had her sticking around.
She’s not part of a pack although deep down she wishes she was. She’s super hard to read and has a wall up around her that is near impossible to break. She’s terrified of finding a pack and then being abandoned by them, and so she struggles to get on with other wolves, despite desperately needing them around her. The burden of her drug addiction dissuades her from ever having meaningful relationships with people.
