Removing a handkerchief from the folded-over pocket of their cardigan, Blue sighed, letting their eyes drift shut for a moment. The dream pervaded: mist, the shrouding, the gentle lisp of rain ( or was it an embrace? ghostly? ) against the nape of their neck. Should've brought an umbrella, they thought, belated to themself, but as per usual, such ideas were better in hindsight. Propped up against the handle of their broom, its bristles digging into the concrete, half-tended graves near finished behind them. This, a strange sight. Were they the only ones who dreamt? If so, they wouldn't be surprised. They tended to be the odd one out. ( And that was wonderful really. ) Though boots in fallen leaves from the oaks lining the sidewalk had them lift one eyelid, dark-brown peering at the approaching silhouette. "No, I'm not sleeping on the job. I'm taking a break. Making sure there's no ghosts roaming around."
Dorian's face was a familiar one amongst the headstones at the cemetery. He wasn't one to take his loved ones for granted, not even after their deaths, and so he visited his late wife frequently. She had always been a great listener, and Dorian felt just as heard speaking to her in the cemetery as he did when she was still with him. After such a hard start to the day, Dorian definitely needed that space right now. "Do you see ghosts often?" He paused mainly to double check if the other person was okay or not, and while their words had somewhat reassured him, he knew it wouldn't hurt to keep the conversation going a little longer. "Unfortunately I've never seen one - or would you consider that to be fortunate?" He wondered.
location: outside of rustling oaks, late at night
status: open! @cardinalstart
"Oh, come on!" He probably shouldn't have shouted, not right outside the apartment building anyway. Not when kids were probably sleeping, and potentially adults with 'real jobs', too. But the shouting wasn't the worst of it, he was also kicking and slamming his fists against the outside door, pissed that his key was stuck in the lock. Groaning in frustration, he grabbed at the keychain and yanked at it again, to no avail. Then his fingers gripped at the tiny metal head of the key and twisted and pulled and worked at it until finally it pulled free. "Aha!" He cried, holding it up. When he tried the door though, it was still locked.
It sort of made sense, considering he had actually lost his real key to the building.
And to the apartment he was crashing in upstairs.
So he couldn't have really gotten in anyway. Which was somehow less frustrating to him than the fact that the incorrect key had gotten stuck in the door, and also that the incorrect key hadn't worked to unlock it and let him in the building. Because all keys should work in all locks, right?
"No, wait, I see how that could be a problem," he said aloud to himself, following his own train of thought. Then he groaned again, walking to the curb and sitting down on it. It had been a long night, and while he was grateful for the food in his belly and the money in his pockets, he felt grimy and disgusting and he just wanted a hot bath. One more prolonged groan, and he let his body seem to melt, sliding down off the curb and into the empty street, his arms rising up to cover his face when his head was the only thing left resting on the sidewalk. "Why is this the longest night ever??"
Dorian hadn't been having a very good day. It had started with horrific nightmares, some more vivid than he had ever had in the past - which was really saying something - and then for the entirety of the rest of the day, he had felt this sinking feeling of unease and restlessness. Still, life must go on, so Dorian hadn't allowed himself a day home to wallow in the upset as he might have deserved.
At this point in his day, Dorian was well and truly ready to get to bed; he was slightly hesitant, given the contents of last night's dream, but was mostly optimistic. His mother's voice echoed through his mind all day: 'A good night's sleep fixes almost everything, even if only temporarily'. Dorian was determined to prove his mother right.
While he usually would have been more sympathetic, noticing someone struggle, Dorian had one thing on his mind - ending this terrible day. He had hardly any more energy to give others, but even so, he couldn't just walk by without saying something. "The inn isn't too far away," he mused. "The locksmith opens pretty early, but not early enough - especially if you're having a long night. It's probably not the best idea to stay in the gutter all night."
" sorry, didn't mean to spook ya. " it's spoken in earnest. birdie should know better, but they don't think there was a way to avoid the initial shock. but they're above ground, resting on a fire escape, how do you make that less startling? you just couldn't. they regard her for a moment, leaning closer to the slots between the railing to give her a better look at who is speaking downwards. " i mean, i guess it isn't so bad. just depends what you're running from, or towards. " takes a pause. inhales a drag off the burning cigarette. " you alright? "
Dahlia thought for a moment. What was she running from? It wasn't like she could run from the contents of her nightmares, not even the very real parts of them. Dahlia couldn't say that she was running towards anything either, though. The woman was running aimlessly, and for some reason, that embarrassed her more than if she had a truth as to what she was running to or from. "I'm just running." It was a meek response, she wasn't proud of it, and she feared she let too much vulnerability slip in between the lines of her words. "I'm just having one of those days." Dahlia was yet to realize that she wasn't the only one in Cardinal Hill who was having one of those days.
OPEN TO : anyone! @cardinalstart
LOCATION : fire escape steps somewhere ...
if birdie's not locked up at the grimoires or sitting at their family's fortune shack, they're somewhere random. there's places he frequents and places he avoids, but some might just seem odd. suck as ... laying against the hard metal of a building fire escape. not exactly comfortable, but it was quiet and caught the soft breeze fliting through. cigarette freshly lit and― something catches their attention. footsteps. birdie registers it as... rushed(?), but they could be wrong. simply startled by the unexpected break of silence. or the remnants of the nightmare still twisting and coiling in the recesses of their mind. regardless their eyes flick over and they announce their presence: " y'know, walk any louder someone will think you're running from something. " they could be.
The voice startled Dahlia, both because it had come seemingly out of nowhere, but also because she had been on edge all day. It took her a moment to find the voice's source, but when she found that it was someone seemingly unthreatening, she tried to pull herself together and brush her fright off. "I was running, or at least, I was trying to," she told them. Admittedly, Dahlia had been going more at her wind down pace, despite only having gotten into it. "Not from anything, though," she quickly cleared up. "Though would that be so bad?"
Walking through the picturesque streets of Cardinal Hill, you find Dorian Crane, the 59 year old teacher originally from Cardinal Hill, WA. Living alongside them in such a small town, you know that they're insightful and compulsive, but what you might not know is that they are a human, and that they’re hiding something… ― Keanu Reeves, bisexual, man, and he/him.
Trigger warning for mental health issues and death.
Growing up was no walk in the park for Dorian. Though his early years were some of his best, for many reasons, the happiness didn't last.
By his early elementary school years, Dorian was as good as independent. His mother suffered with intense mental health issues, and his father was most committed to his work.
Dorian wouldn't say that he was neglected, but he couldn't say that he was nurtured, and doubted if he was loved.
He was able to get by on his own, keeping his head down - often face in a comic book or ear by the radio - but he never thrived.
In high school, his teachers changed his life. His previous teachers had been fine for the most part, but he connected best with those that he had in his later years.
Never before had he felt so much support. They all cared that Dorian did well, and a couple of them took a particular interest in making sure that he was okay, also.
With their help, Dorian broke more out of his shell, and he was able to figure out a sustainable plan for his life - along with a reason to find more joy in his days.
Inspired by the first real supports in his life, Dorian planned to become a teacher. He left Cardinal Hill, and while at college, he gained the credentials to teach, and a wife.
Dorian married Cordelia right out of college, and the two began their happy lives together back in Cardinal Hill. It was only when they moved into their first home together that Cordelia admitted to Dorian that she had been keeping a secret: she was a witch.
While shocked, Dorian believed that the truth only bettered their lives, and for twenty years, their lives were happy. The happiness ended ten years ago, however, when Cordelia passed after a year long battle with serious health issues.
The supportive network he and Cordelia had found for themselves helped Dorian through it, and a small while after letting himself process his grief, Dorian found that helping others helped him the most.
He returned to teach English at Cardinal Hill High, and he was more dedicated in his profession than ever.
Walking through the picturesque streets of Cardinal Hill, you find Dahlia Bryant, the 28 year old physiotherapist originally from Astoria, OR. Living alongside them in such a small town, you know that they're encouraging and reserved, but what you might not know is that they are a witch, and that they’re hiding something… ― Victoria Justice, bisexual, woman, and she/her.
Trigger warning for injury.
Every woman for as long as recorded on Dahlia's maternal line were witches, and each of them had one daughter each, those daughters sharing their magical gifts.
Dahlia being her mother's only child and inheriting her magic was no shock, while her conception had been. It was a teen pregnancy, and her father had never questioned whether he wanted to be in the picture; he sternly wanted to stay out of it.
Raised by her mother and grandmother, Dahlia's family struggled, especially financially. They had a lot of love, but not many resources.
Dahlia fortunately inherited more than magic, but a good attitude and a good work ethic, as well.
While she was academically on par or slightly above most of her peers, Dahlia took a real liking for athletics; she participated in many sports, but track captured her the most.
Dahlia was a great runner, and while she performed competitively, winning had never been her focus. She cared more for the friends who ran with her, which was the best attitude to have.
Sadly that attitude had to be pushed slightly behind her when high school neared its end. With not enough money to attend college to achieve the life all three women in her family had worked towards, she knew she would need a scholarship to get there.
Dahlia started taking her sport more seriously, and while she felt endless guilt for neglecting some of her best friends in ways, she knew it would be worth it in the end; her best friend had plans to go to the very same college, so she vowed to make up for it then.
Things didn't go to plan. While Dahlia did earn that scholarship, her best friend suffered an injury at the end of their senior year, and she never returned to the sport or made it to college with Dahlia.
For many reasons, Dahlia began to struggle with the direction of her life. For the first time ever her performance began to slip, and she felt like she missed out on what should have been an amazing college experience.
Once bubbly, Dahlia retreated into her shell. She wasn't without friends or fun, but she had very little of each, and the abruptness of such differences in her life only caused further struggle.
Despite her troubles Dahlia managed to graduate and become a qualified physiotherapist. She was happy to get work and improve upon her financial situation in the years after, but something was still missing.
Following many deep talks with her mother and grandmother, Dahlia made the move to Cardinal Hill. It was where her grandmother was from originally, and every woman on her maternal line before her.
Dahlia is hoping to find reason and a spark for life again in Cardinal Hill. She's really hoping to find herself, and to come back to herself here.
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