He tilted his head slightly as she began to apologise, shrugging a little as he tried to wave off the apology. “It’s fine.” he replied, “Have you perhaps gotten medication for it?” he asked, knowing there was a family member they’d had that suffered from them, how she’d managed to get medication that helped her with them. “I think everyone is.”
“Medicine doesn’t really help. It just makes me...nauseous,” Isidora explained. She sighed softly and turned to face him. She wiped her eyes and ran a hand over her face as he agreed about people being on edge. “It was crazy out here. I hope you weren’t too affected by what happened.” She placed her hands on her hips and kicked at a rock on the ground.
Mark had been pretty much avoiding Oliver since he’d triggered his first shift in the older wolf’s presence. The whole ordeal had been a lot to process,so Mark was avoiding all of the usual spots he expected Oliver to show up. The only downside was that it meant he was inadvertently avoiding a lot of the other Howlers as well. Because of this, he hadn’t been expecting to run into anyone he really knew today, but the dark-haired woman he saw before him was unmistakable in all of her impossibility.
He was still grappling with the fact that she had died and that Oliver had had some role in her death (and in her resurrection). He hadn’t worked up the courage to face her yet, in all honesty. What did you say to someone you had mourned? He wasn’t sure, but he did know one thing- ever since the light from the mountain had ripped open the sky, he’d felt off. Obviously, something had happened that night, something very strange. Even in the daylight, the world was somehow dimmed. Surely he wasn’t the only one seeing it?
He watched Isidora for a moment, deciding on talking to her and getting her advice on so many things he hadn’t been able to talk with Oliver about lately, or turning tail and running away like he’d never been here to see her at all. Coward. And then- she covered her ears, her body language turned inward, almost like she was in pain and, well… she was family, and Mark didn’t turn his back on his pack. He closed the distance between himself and the she-wolf before he had much time to over-think his decision and tapped on her shoulder. He was confused by her startled reaction, however. She should have sensed his approach?
“I- you. You looked like…” He fumbled for words as she snapped at him, the growl in her voice raising his internal hackles just the slightest bit. “You looked like you were in pain. I wanted to check on you,” he managed at last,eyes shining with guilt for avoiding her for so long.
Isidora’s gaze softened as soon as she saw who it was. Markos, the sweetest member of the Night Howlers, probably even sweeter than Piper considering she could be more devious. She dropped her hands from her ears and tried to drown out the high pitch hum she heard. Could Mark not hear it? Was it because she died and came back?
“I-I’m okay,” she breathed. She held up her hand and put it on his shoulder in an attempt to be reassuring. “I’m okay, Mark. I’m fine. I-It’s nothing.” She couldn’t even keep her gaze on him. Isidora found herself staring at the ground and looking from side to side at the people walking around them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw shadows moving on their own, independent of their person.
“Can you...Can you go pick up Piper from school? I told her I would, but I don’t think I can today.” Isidora had research to do. She couldn’t let this continue on. She wouldn’t let this happen. Isidora needed to figure out why she was seeing shadow people, why she was hearing a high pitch hum that no other werewolf was hearing, and how she was brought back to life. There were so many questions. Was she getting some of her witch powers back? Was it possible for her to regain her witch powers? Would she lose her werewolf abilities? Isidora wondered if she made a deal with a demon if she could get her witch powers back. “And...um, have you seen Oliver lately?” she asked him.
“—You’re losing your fucking mind
in public.
Isidora get it together.”
Believe it or not, he’s not attempting to be cruel. Sure, Isidora might not be a part of his pack but she`s a wolf, she knows what its like to feel the tides of the moon, to have a beast howl within, there`s solidarity in that. There`s also a require strength in belonging to the superior supernatural and right now, with Isidora`s signs of weakness in public is revealing nothing but an humiliating frailty.
When you’re going to fall apart, fall apart in private, scream, shatter but close those doors. Jasper understands falling apart at the seams, to have sanity slipping and cruelty greeting you at your front door, he understands wreck but there has to be pride, there has to be collection, absolution and an armor of steel and Isidora needs to steel – seek closed doors and Jasper is asking her to not splash her break in front of his visage, a couple cracks in the sidewalk walking before him when she halted for a fracture in sanity.
“I’m not losing my mind!” Isidora snapped again. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips together and took in a deep breath. She needed to calm down. She was almost growling at people. The wolf on the inside was fighting and clawing to get out. She couldn’t fall apart now. She had to keep herself together. For the Night Howlers. For her family. For Oliver. For herself. She died and she came back. It was a miracle. She couldn’t throw it away by falling apart and giving into the wolf.
“What are you doing on this side of town anyways?” She didn’t peg Jasper as a guy who would be caught in Uptown Braddock. After recent events, Uptown Braddock could use some cleaning and a facelift. Graffiti covered the walls and boards were over smashed windows. People were slowly starting to repair the damage that was done by the hunting parties.
Lachlan didn’t mean to startle her or provoke the response she had received. Concern and worry were evident through the details of her facade, with an arched brow and wide eyes. She mirrored her jump, seeing it was unexpected though it shouldn’t have been. Her words and how it was presented was familiar, almost too familiar, that it sent chills down her spine. She threw her hands up in defense, showing her true and innocent intentions. “I was just checking to see if everything was alright. Or if you needed help with something.” It was a concerning sight. The brunette seemed bothered by something, and with the new atmosphere that has embarked onto the town, it wasn’t surprising. It wasn’t something Lachlan could ignore and walk away from. Everything was weird. Everyone was acting weird. An explanation for her own actions and isolation, even though she knew the real reason. “I’ll leave if I’m bothering you.”
“No, no, it’s okay.” Isidora clenched her fists as she felt her claws coming out. She pulled her sleeves down to hide her hands as she kept her fists balled up. Hopefully blood wouldn’t drip down her hands. “I’ve been having migraines lately and I don’t know why. That’s all,” she said. It was the only excuse she could come up with. It was the only possible thing she could come up with. There have been these rifts, but Isidora’s magic was gone. When she sensed the energy radiating from these rifts, it felt different than when she felt magical energy as a witch. She felt helpless because she didn’t know what it was and she couldn’t do anything about now. She wondered if these rifts opening up was affecting her werewolf abilities or it if was just because she died and was resurrected some time later. “Don’t tell me that I should go to a doctor. I’d prefer not to. Especially after everything that’s happened.”
“No, I don’t know what’s going on, Dad..” he sighed a little as Grant cut into his answer with another question and began to ramble of other things to be looking out for, and Aaron let his attention drift to other things as he kept the phone pressed to his ear, his eyes drifting across the street to catch the sight of a dark haired woman, who could only be described as looking distressed. No other word could really fit it accurately. “Dad, I gotta go.” he replied, cutting Grant off mid sentence as he crossed the street. Arching an eyebrow in question when she snapped, he merely shrugged, “Just wanted to see if you were okay, can tell from across the street you’re just.. not.”
Isidora put her hands down immediately and looked up at the man who came over to her. “I-I’m fine,” she said hesitantly. She bit her lower lip and shook her head, trying to get rid of the ringing and humming that kept invading her mind. She put a hand to her head and ran her fingers through her hair. “Uh...gracias. I mean, thank you for checking on me...I’m just dealing with some migraines. I’m sorry that I snapped at you. She put her hands on her hips and rubbed her neck. “I didn’t mean it. I guess I’m on edge these days...”
Tagging: Isidora Ramos
Time & Location: December 1st, 2016 @ the Jager-Ramos apartment
Word Count: 563
Summary: Isidora is resurrected thanks to Oliver’s deal with a Crossroads Demon.
Side Notes: Finally finished this!
Isidora felt herself being pulled, like there was a cord running through her that tugging at her heart. A voice whispered in the back of her mind. It was soft and mesmerizing.
“Come home. Come home. Come home...” the voice said.
She was in the dark, but she felt a warmth that was very different than the embrace of death. Death was so peaceful. She didn’t know where she was or if her grandmother was really there keeping her company. She didn’t know how long she had been gone. It didn’t even matter really because she was dead and gone. The world would soon forget about her and she was okay with that for some reason.
The world is quiet here.
Time was lost in death. She felt like she could barely even remember Oliver and her Night Howlers. How long ago was it that she and her sister got in trouble for practicing spells they hadn’t learned yet? When did she get mauled by that werewolf? When did she meet Oliver? How did she meet him? How long has it been since she died? Her mind was so clear in death that it felt surreal. She constantly felt like she was floating, but now something was pulling at her to bring her back down to earth.
Her heart started to flutter inside her chest. The flutter was light and fast like a hummingbird’s wings. Soon, the beat started to slow and become more powerful, like a drum pounding inside her chest. The beat reached to her ears and rumbled inside her mind.
Her lungs opened up and air rushed it. The shock of it all had her in a coughing fit, forcing her to sit up and put a hand to her chest. Her vision blurred from the tears welling up in her eyes. When she finally caught her breath, everything cleared up. She was somewhere familiar, but her head felt so numb.
Isidora swung her legs over the side of her bed. She gingerly placed her feet on the cold floor. Goosebumps rose up on her skin. The heat hadn’t been turned on in the apartment for a while. She glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It had been eighteen days since she remembered going to sleep. Had she been asleep this whole time or did she really die? Why didn’t she feel sick anymore? Was it possible that she survived? She didn’t even know where to start. All she knew was that she was starving.
The she wolf pulled on a clean outfit consisting of loose fitting pants and a t shirt. She turned on the heat in the apartment and went to the kitchen to start cooking something. Isidora tried to remember what happened, but it was a huge blank. Maybe it’s because you haven’t eaten real food in days, she thought to herself. She shrugged the thoughts away and followed what her stomach was telling her.
As she pushed the scrambled eggs around in a pan, she heard footsteps approach the door. Isidora looked up at the front door and grinned as Oliver came in. He looked worn out and tired, but he still gave her a small smile.
“Hey, Ollie. I was hungry and I was feeling better so I made some scrambled eggs and toast. Want some? There’s more than enough.”
Isidora’s head felt like it was about to explode. She could hear and smell and see everything. Every high pitch noise, every pungent smell, every sharp detail. Everything. Even the dark shadows that passed by the corner of her eyes. Ever since she woke up, she wasn’t the same. Either the sickness did something to her or dying and being resurrected did. Her head was scrambled. Her wolf powers were out of control again. It was like she was back to square one, unable to control her shifting and blacking out. Oliver was hardly around anymore. She only approached the Night Howlers once or twice within the last month. She couldn’t take it. She wanted to scream and cry and die all at the same time. She wanted this torture to end. Isidora put her hands to her head, covering her ears, and shutting her eyes tightly in an attempt to block out the world.
When someone tapped her on her shoulder, Isidora jumped and turned to see who it was. “What do you want?” she growled.
Tagging: Isidora Ramos
Time & Location: November 13th, 2016 @ the Jager-Ramos apartment
Word Count: 717
Summary: Isidora succumbs to the mysterious infection.
Side Notes: There is death in this para, so beware.
Dying was easier than expected. Isidora thought she’d put up a fight at the end and maybe she did, but the last thing she remembered was wrapping herself up in a blanket and falling asleep. Before that, she remembered saying goodbye to Oliver as he left to check on Piper. He was torn up, but she got him to calm down, as she always did. Once the door shut, Isidora had taken a sip of her tea and leaned back on the couch to read her book. Somewhere during that time, she fell asleep, which soon became the predicted coma.
At first, she dreamed. She dreamed of her family. She had one last conversation with her mother, father, and sister. Even if it wasn’t real, Isidora was glad she got to talk to them again. She wondered if she had her witch powers again if she could have saved people. She hated that she was sick and couldn’t volunteer and help others. Instead, she was confined to a bed, waiting out the plague, desperately hoping that she’d live.
“¿Qué haces, cariña?”
Everything was bright and almost blinding. There was a glow to everything and it all felt warm and tingly. Isidora looked up and turned to focus on the voice that seemed so familiar. “Bela?” Isidora’s smile grew bigger when she saw that it was her grandmother who died a couple of years before Isidora became a werewolf.
“¡Cariña! ¿Cómo estás?” the older woman asked. She embraced her granddaughter tightly.
“Is this heaven?” Isidora asked, hoping that maybe it was. She had no idea where she would go once she died.
“No sé. Esto es ni cielo ni infierno, pajarita,” she said. “No estás muerto todavía.”
Isidora’s smile faded. “This isn’t real, is it?” Her grandmother gave her a sad smile and shook her head. Isidora looked up and saw them in Chapman Park, where she’d go with Oliver for walks for his dog, Poe. She sat down with her grandmother on a bench. “This is probably all in my head, but is Heaven real?”
“Hay mucho más que el cielo y el infierno, cariña,” her grandmother told her. “Esta enfermedad es más allá de nuestro mundo.”
“I miss you, bela,” Isidora said. She leaned against the back of the bench. “I’m going to miss a lot. I don’t like that I’m going to miss so much.” She wiped her eyes as tears started to fall. “I’ll miss mamá and papá and Nita. I’ll miss all the people I’ve met in Braddock...Piper, Hache, Rachel, Mal, Mark...” She bit her lower lip and held back tears. “Oliver. I’ll miss him as much as I miss you.”
“¿Lo amas?“
Isidora nodded. “He’s my best friend. I don’t think I’ll find anyone else like him. I don’t want to leave him behind,” she said. “He’s a good guy, but I worry about what will happen to him when I die.”
“Tienes una opción para hacer, pajarita,” her grandmother said.
“A choice?”
“Puedes venir conmigo ahora o luchar contra esta enfermedad.”
She let out a sigh and shook her head. “I’m tired of fighting this disease.”
“Es su decisión de quedarse conmigo o volver atrás.”
Isidora smiled at her grandmother and moved to sit closer to her. “I thought the choice would be harder. It should be. I should want to stay alive after everything I’ve been through.” A few tears fell down her face. She didn’t even bother wiping them away. “Does it hurt?” she asked. She felt numb all over.
“Para nada, parajita,” her grandmother told her. The older woman turned her head to give Isidora a kiss on her forehead. “Yo tendré cuidado de ti, siempre. Te quiero.”
“Te quiero, bela,” Isidora said. She smiled sadly and closed her eyes. A warmth enveloped her as her grandmother hugged her. She expected it to be cold. They always said death would be cold and she had been so, so cold ever since she caught the infection. Everything was warm and fuzzy though. But it was dark. A darker night than Isidora had ever seen.
And just like that, she slipped away. It was like falling asleep.
“Go now in peace, to love and serve the Lord,” Orion spoke to the people who had gathered, concluding the Mass. There were a few murmurs of ‘Amen’ as they all stood and left the church. There had not been many who had attended, but this was not Sunday and his predecessors here had not done well maintaining the Church’s relationship with the people. He was here to change that, but he knew it would neither be a quick nor easy task. He looked to the crucifx at the front of the church and began to pray softly to his father for the strength and patience necessary to accomplish his task here.
Then he heard the sound of the door open and someone entering. It was a littel irregular to come in after the service had so recently ended, but Orion turned and smiled at the person anyway. “How may I be of service?”
Isidora hadn’t been the same since she died. Or at least, she’s pretty sure she died. She wasn’t even entirely positive that she did die, but when she thought about what happened, she had to have died. How she was brought back to life was a mystery that Oliver wouldn’t answer. She had no way to contact her family and no one would talk to her. Honestly, she was losing her faith and she felt lost all around. She didn’t have the same control over her werewolf powers and she felt confused by everything.
“Um...nothing in particular. I didn’t think that anyone would still be here...I guess I’m here to pray...for an end to the whole plague that’s going on.” She crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips. Would a priest understand her thoughts about death and possibly crossing over to the other side?
Apparently his Christmas gift from the universe was constant, paralyzing panic attacks. Every time he thought about all of the tasks pulling him in every direction he shut down. He wouldn’t even need to be doing anything “triggering.” An uneasy rolling in his gut would start up and from there it would remind him–remind him of the war on the tips of everyone’s tongue and fingers, remind him of the responsibility he owed to Oliver and Izzy, to take care of the Night Howlers in their absence, remind him of his absolute inability to run to his parents and cry on their shoulders. He was holding it all up, all on his own and he had no one to ask for help. His heart was beating too fast, making him paranoid about who or what might be watching him.
He was going to be sick if he didn’t stop overthinking everything. Mal needed to clear his head. He sat on the steps leading to the abandoned Pizza Inn, frustrated that he didn’t even have work to occupy him.
Ever since Isidora woke up, she’d felt off. Maybe it was because she died, went to the other side for an extended period of time, and then returned to the land of the living. She would see shadows out of the corner of her eye and hear whispers. Oliver was never around anymore and Isidora knew something was up. She knew him too well. She found her way to the Pizza House, which was basically out of business with the rest of the businesses in town since the infection. She hoped to find Oliver, but instead found Mal. She didn’t want to tell anyone about her miraculous recovery, mainly because she didn’t know how to explain it.
“Have you seen Ollie around?” Isidora asked. Whenever he came home, it was late at night and she hardly heard him come in, even with her werewolf senses, which had been off ever since she came back from the dead.
