tw. mentions of death, mentions of parental issues
* // DEMET OZDEMIR, 28, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER — ❝ there goes [ LEYLA ASLAN ], the [ 28 ] year-old, [ WILDLIFE VETERINARIAN ]. they’ve been running around north roxton for [ 28 YEARS OFF AND ON ] and have got quite the reputation, you see. i’ve heard they’re [ COMPASSIONATE ] + [ VIVACIOUS ], but some say they can also be [ STUBBORN ] + [ SANCTIMONIOUS ]. i guess we’ll just have to find out for ourselves, won’t we? if you see them around, be sure to say hello! ❞ — ( cree, 26, est, she/her )
Leyla is... complicated.
She was born and raised in Roxton to the town’s resident wildlife veterinarian, Dr. Emre Aslan, and a school teacher, Nuray.
Her mother passed when she was 13 years old, leaving her with her father who buried himself in work as he grieved. Leyla spent a lot of time alone during those years and holds a lot of resentment towards her father as a result. When they did manage to find time to spend together, it usually ended in arguments and eventually, the two stopped trying.
There were times when Leyla acted out as a teenager, enough so that it earned her a little bit of a reputation, but she has since grown up from her wild ways.
Leyla decided to become a wildlife veterinarian after spending her entire life around animals. She currently has a few of her own and regularly fosters animals in need.
She lived in Colorado for a few years, aiding in wildlife conservation and rescue efforts.
Viviacios, compassionate, stubborn and sanctimonious, Leyla is a passionate individual who often sees the world in black and white. She’s very stuck in her ways, but she’s not completely unwilling to see another person’s side of things- unless they’re just wrong.
Maybe it was her father’s insistence. Or-perhaps, it had been her need to get out of the house before that unfortunately familiar feeling came creeping back. It was the worst kind of nostalgia, or déjà vu. A reminder that no matter how much you wanted people to change, sometimes they just stayed on repeat, like a bad song on the radio.
It wasn’t her father’s fault- not entirely. A person can only be who they were and her dad was the most stubborn human being she had ever met. It was her own fault for expecting too much. She knew better now. A sigh escaped her lips as she drank and watched people attempt to strike conversations with complete strangers. Singles Mix & Mingle wasn’t exactly her thing, but Dizzy Peaks had beer and it was close to her office, so it won out in the end. When someone sat next to her, she furrowed her brows and quickly shook her head. “Look, I’m flattered and I know this is a singles mixer and everything, but that guy at the end of the bar has already tried all the lines in the book. I’m honestly just here for food and beer.”
“Everything is soaked.” Ayla said with a wrinkle of her nose as she began to pull at her winter pants and ski boots. Somehow, she’d managed not to put everything on right and by the end of her beginners lessons — and after having fallen over ten times — she found that half her legs were soaked from the snow. Lifting her hues when someone stepped forward, seemingly with a glass in hand, she almost let out a squeal. “Is that one from me?” If it wasn’t, she hoped that she’d elicited enough guilt that the other would find pity on her and hand over the coffee or glass of alcohol — all of which she desperately needed. @northroxtonstart
“Yeah, well, welcome to North Roxton,” Leyla joked, sipping her hot chocolate as she watched Ayla untangle herself from her thick pants and boots. She recounted her own childhood of learning how to ski- her parents treated it like it was a life skill instead of a hobby. She shook her head and stood from her place by the fire to hand a glass of wine to her. “Of course it’s for you. You look like you need it. How many times did you fall again?” She teased.
Christian thumbed over the bruised, cut knuckles of his right hand, slightly wincing as torn skin caught on his rough movement. Luckily, he could pass them off as part of the job — the one where he harvested Christmas trees at Evergreen Passage, and not the one where he smuggled drugs from across the Canadian border. It was the latter that caused his current situation, a shipment mishap that resulted in a physical altercation. One of many.
Finally, catching the eye of another, he shoved his hands into the pockets of the large black ski jacket covering his frame. “Damn tree nearly fell on me,” he shrugged, painting on an uncharacteristically friendly grin. “Have you been up to Evergreen to get one yet? I know it’s not even Thanksgiving, but the good ones go fast.” Christian had learned long ago that in order to do what he did successfully, he needed to blend in. He needed to be nothing more than the humble, maybe slightly mysterious, tree farmer.
Her father’s big, empty house probably wouldn’t be made any cheerier with a Christmas tree, but she made the decision to at least try and liven up the place. They hadn’t really celebrated Christmas since the accident- or any holidays for that matter, but part of her father’s recovery required him to at least be a little happy... Or happier, if that man was capable of such a thing.
Leyla’s eyes caught the man’s bruised hands before they traveled to his face, a frown settling on her expression for a moment. They looked painful, to say the least, and she should know. Her job had forced her to suffer through numerous bites, scrapes and cuts over the years tending to frightened, and sometimes dangerous, animals. At his question, her eyes snapped up to his face again, not realizing that she had taken to staring at them again. “Oh, uh, no, no, I haven’t. I was planning to go up there in a bit. Might as well get it out of the way while I can.”
It was ridiculous, Paul knew that, but some mornings he needed to get out before heading for the clinic. Today was one of those days. Jacket zipped right up to his chin, walking boots and socks on his feet, a mission in mind. It was five a.m. and he was power walking his way down one of the streets of North Roxton, fully intending on getting a couple of miles in before he needed to make his way to work. He was rounding a corner on the edge of town when he finally spotted someone, greeting them with a perhaps a little too cheery, “Here’s me thinking I’d be the only one awake!”
Everyday, without fail, Leyla woke up to go on a run. It wasn’t the most ideal activity for November in North Roxton, but once her body got into a routine, it was hard to shake herself out of it. Lola and Max sat at her door eagerly waiting to be leashed, their thick tails wagging and forth, and she knew there was no chance in hell that she’d be able to sleep in. She let out a slow breath as she jogged along, Lola and Max pattering in front of her. She spotted a familiar face rounding the corner and slowed down, checking her fitbit for her time as she laughed at his enthusiasm. “No, unfortunately, you’re not the only insane person in this town,” Leyla joked, reaching down to scratch at Lola’s ears. “Long time no see, how have you been?”
