Half wolf, half nephilim

Jonathan Frederick Penhallow | 14 | Shadowhunter Son of Jonathan Rochester and Consul Emily Penhallow Brother to Ella and Rachael.

[shadowworldgraphics]

Spawns  (part 1)

[natepenhallow-blog]

Reading Lines Together | Nate & Carys

The young dark-haired Shadowhunter put his sketchbook down and made his way out of his room. It was already half past the hour of one and he did not want to be late for his meeting with Carys Herondale. The two did not exactly agree on a specific time, but Nate still wanted to be punctual. Carys was a lady, after all, and ladies should not be kept waiting. Passing by the small library of their home, Nate peeked through the slightly opened door and found Ella, intently reading a book. With a smile and a small shake of the head, he continued walking forward, deciding it would be best not to disturb his sister. After all, Nate knew how much Ella disliked being disturb when she was reading and Nate was in no mood to bicker with her. It was still beyond him how his relationship with his sister turned sour all those years ago. He doted upon her as if she was a princess and adored her still, but she was a little hostile towards him and if he was being honest, it hurt his feelings. However, he would never tell her that. 

He found his youngest sister Rachael standing by the doorway of the small training room. She was only nine, but Nate could see how excited she was about getting her Marks. He, too, had been just as excited and over the past few months, he has told her everything he could remember about his Marking ceremony-- from the preparations, to the ceremony itself, then the small banquet that followed. It was a joyous day for Nate and he was happy to tell his little sister all about it. Rachael had only been seven then and remembered very little about the event. "Shall we go then?" Nate asked as he looked at his sister, the sides of his lips tugged upwards in a smile. Rachael turned to him with a delighted expression and after telling their mother and father where they would be for the entire afternoon, they hopped on their family's carriage and made their way to the London Institute.

The ride to the Institute from the Penhallow's home was short and soon, Nate was getting out of the carriage and helping his sister get off as well. He had planned to go to the Institute by himself but his father had asked him to look after Rachael for the day. Nate didn't mind. He liked his sister's company, and he knew that his father simply wanted time with his mother. It had only been a couple of days since she arrived home, after all. 

His sister's energy was infectious and Nate found himself smiling widely as he stood by the doorway of the Institute, his sister talking on and on about training and runes and all the things their father had taught her about Downworlders-- lycanthropes, especially. Nate rang the summoning bell twice, and waited patiently for anyone inside to open the door.

[waitingforthestarstocomedow-blog]

Well,

[waitingforthestarstocomedow-blog]

Suppose so. I hate being caged in. The institute isn’t as big as most think. It’s a shadowhunter prison. I feel better when I’m outdoors. Oh, are they? I haven’t seen them. They must be busy with whatever they are doing. 

[natepenhallow-blog]

A Shadowhunter prison? Wow. Well, I never thought of it as that. Why is that you think that of the Institute, Evelina? Surely you do not feel like your are forced to be in the Institute? I, too, like the outdoors more than I do the indoors. In fact, I could sleep on the backyard if my mother would only let me. [he laughs] I suppose we will all get together for dinner tonight, anyway. So how've you been since we last saw each other, Evelina?

[waitingforthestarstocomedow-blog]

Well,

[waitingforthestarstocomedow-blog]

She’s a Lightwood, Johnathan. Lightwoods don’t get heart attacks. They panic and worry and go out searching. Sometimes I wish she wouldn’t though. I can take care of myself. 

[natepenhallow-blog]

Is that so? I suppose most mothers are like that. But why aren't you in the Institute, anyway? Aren't your cousins here for a visit?

[waitingforthestarstocomedow-blog]

Well,

I wonder how long it was before mother and father realized I wasn’t at the Institute. Suppose I should say hello neverless. So, hello.

[natepenhallow-blog]

Well, hello. Are you sure you won't give your mother a heart attack by not telling her where you are, Evelina?

[carysherondale]

It's that time of year again.

[carysherondale]

Yes, I so suppose I see why Owain and Gwen are frightened. I just found it to be hilarious nonsense however, but then father says I never take anything seriously.

I would love to start soon! Are you free this afternoon? You could come to the institute and we could practise together. Yes, you must! Do tell me immediately what you think once you have seen it.

[natepenhallow-blog]

This afternoon is perfect! [he smiles widely] I shall be coming over to the Institute then. Would it be alright if Rachael tags along? Papa has asked me to keep an eye on her for the afternoon while he deals with Lycanthrope business. And of course. You will be the first person I will go to after I've watched the play. 

[jcbanelightwood]

Cool! I’m starving. The Institute back then — or now, I guess — provides food, right? Can I stay?

And hey — yeah! I’m from the future. Who else have you seen here? Maybe I know them.

[natepenhallow-blog]

I suppose we should ask Will Herondale that. He's the head of this Institute, you see. But I'm sure he will give you a place to stay. I've heard there are others from the future currently staying here. And if you are starving, we could always approach the cook for a plate of food. I am certain no one will mind.

I remember meeting a Charlotte Herondale... Perhaps you know her? Red hair, and-- I don't quite remember the color of her eyes. She was slightly... odd. She slapped herself across the face.

[jcbanelightwood]

So that’s why it smells like food. Awesome. And the London Institute? Great! Can you tell me what year it is?

[natepenhallow-blog]

Yes! I believe the cook has just finished preparing dinner. [he smiles] Oh, well, it is 1898. [his brows furrow] How is it... Are you one of those from the future?

[jcbanelightwood]

I really feel like I should know where I am…

Buuuut I don’t.

[natepenhallow-blog]

Oh, well, you're in the London Institute. In the dining room to be precise.

[charlottelightwoodherondale-blog]

No, I didn’t mean it like that. To simply put it, I am kind of odd. Not exactly your normal girl from the 21st century. Slapping yourself isn’t still socially acceptable even in the modern time. That’s just me. It is actually interesting so far.

I know. I would need to cross oceans just to get back to where I’m from though I am not sure if planes already exist during this time. No idea. Last thing I remember was going to bed to have a long night sleep and the next day, I’m waking up in this unfamiliar scenery. The pleasure’s all mine, Nate. It’s not everyday I meet someone from a different period. Yes, that’s my father’s last name. Probably but I haven’t really paid much attention about our family lineage so I can’t be entirely sure.

[natepenhallow-blog]

Ah, so that hasn't changed then? [he chuckles softly] Interesting? How so? 

Planes? Are you referring to flying contraptions? I've read about them, but unfortunately, we do not have planes. Us, Nephilim, travel with the use of portals, though. Much more convenient than ships, don't you think? Though there are still a few who would much rather travel by ship. As for why, I do not really know.

That's.. very strange, indeed. Do you think there are others who are from the future just like you? Perhaps I should really bring you to the Institute. William Herondale will know what to do, for sure. And if he doesn't, well, my mother's coming back from Idris today and she is the Consul so she will definitely know what to do. Ah, it is important to know about your family lineage so that you know who to look for when and if you find yourself in another time period. [he smiles] 

[charlottelightwoodherondale-blog]

Following the norms of the society we live in is kind of boring so being doesn’t work for me every now and then. It’s more of a normal occurrence in our household.

Not exactly. I’ve heard my parents talk about it but the New York Institute is the only Institute I’ve ever been to. So this is the first time I would actually set foot to another Institute. It actually makes me wonder if they all look alike. I’m from New York, if that wasn’t obvious yet. It’s fine, I forgot to do the same anyway. I’m Charlotte Herondale but you can just call me Lottie.

[natepenhallow-blog]

It is? So is slapping yourself the norm in the twenty-first century? Odd, it must be. [he laughs softly] Well, I hope you do not find the 19th century terribly boring then..

Ah, I see. I've never been to other Institutes aside from the one here, so I don't know as well. New York? That's a long ways from here. How did you get here anyhow? Oh, and it's a pleasure to meet you, Lottie. Did you say you're a Herondale? The head of the London Institute is a Herondale-- William Herondale, and his wife Tessa. Perhaps they are your relatives. Or, you know, ancestors since you are from the twenty-first century.

[charlottelightwoodherondale-blog]

Normal is getting overrated anyways so I’m not gonna take offense on that statement. Being peculiar is better. I’d rather not use my stele for some trivial matter. Besides, it’s nothing I can’t handle.

I wasn’t joking if that what you were implying and yes, or that’s where I am supposed to be. Uhm, sure. There’s an Institute around here as well?

[natepenhallow-blog]

[he nods his head, smiling] You should not. I did not mean it to be offensive anyway. And I suppose I agree with you a little bit. It's always fun to be odd every now and then.

Why, of course there is an Institute here. You are in London, after all. Why? Have you never been to the London Institute in the 21st century? And tell me, where are you from, exactly, Miss? Oh, I am Nate Penhallow, by the way. How rude of me to now have introduced myself sooner.

[charlottelightwoodherondale-blog]

Uh yeah, I should have thought of that before hitting myself. Me? Clearly, I have left the impression of being beyond the normal realm though I’d like to think that I’m normal enough.

I’m certain that one could not slap her face too hard and suddenly forget about the year. Funny enough, you’re not the first one I’ve encountered who says that it isn’t the 21st century anymore.

[natepenhallow-blog]

[he laughs loudly] Well I don't think anyone normal would slap themselves on the face. I can see your handprint on your cheek, Miss. Perhaps you'd like to draw an iratze on that?

It is because we are not in the twenty-first century.. [his brows furrow] Your tone does not imply jest. You seriously think you are in the twenty-first century? Perhaps.. Perhaps you should follow me to the Institute. 

[carysherondale]

It's that time of year again.

[carysherondale]

Well you see the story my mother tells is very different to the story my father tells. And no, she does not share the fear, she finds it amusing. So my father will say that a demon duck attacked him in his youth, tried to bite off his entire hand, and only his older sister managed to beat the beast back. He then also told us stories of how ducks were cannibalistic and would start at your ankles then devour you whole.

Whereas my mother tells it that when father was around five years old he wandered out to the pond near his house and got a bit of a fright when a duck bit at the end of his finger as he tried to play with it. His older sister Ella bandaged his finger, told the duck off, and since then father hated ducks.

Well I’ll be helping you too so it shall be fine. When would you like to practise together? Oh, it came out three years ago, 1895 I think. Father took me to see it at the time, it was very funny. They might - it is very popular and circulates regularly.

[natepenhallow-blog]

[he laughs] Well your father's story is definitely horrific. Cannibalistic ducks? If my father told me the same story when I was a child, I would be scared as well. But it's hard to imagine such furry creatures as something that would devour you whole.. I would never have thought that your father and siblings would have something against ducks. 

Anytime you want to. Perhaps we can start soon? I am very interested in learning how to portray a role. [he smiles] Oh, I see. I shall make sure to watch it, then. The plot sounds very intriguing.

[emilypenhallow]

Welcome Home || Jonathan Jr and Emily

[emilypenhallow]

An irrevocable, genuine and all consuming smile spread across her face the very moment Emily laid eyes upon her husband as she was suddenly unable to focus on anything else. After all those years, so many changes, he had remained as consistent as ever. Before her was the Jon she had met in the woods, pushed into the Thames, kissed so many times for the past twenty years but still not nearly enough to make up for the years they lost somewhere in between. Her wolf. Her only love. Having him in her life had been unthinkable, and more than she could have ever wished for. As were their children. She wished she could see them more, as her heart yearned to hold her children in her arms every hour of every day, often wondering how it was that she had been so very blessed. Her hand rested on Jon’s cheek, her other used to pull herself up to gently kiss his cheek to the sound of their daughters giggling. “I’ve missed you so,” she said as she, much like every other time she returned home, promised herself to never be away for more than a month ever again.

"Nate!" An even brighter smile replaced the other as Emily saw her son, immediately moving towards him with her arms held out to embrace her firstborn. Her heart ached slightly as she rested her head on his shoulder, remembering the days she had been able to hold him in her arms. He had been so very small, so fragile, and from the minute she had first felt him move inside her she had sworn to love him. She wanted to protect him above all else, still cringing as she thought of what she had done before he was born, and often wondered how she would do that when she was away from him long enough for him to grow enough for her to feel as if she was in fact the child out of the two. "My little baby boy," she said in an affectionate and motherly voice as she pinched his cheeks, pulling her fingers through his hair as she always used to when he was still a toddler. "I have missed you so very much, and look at you — this is not the boy I left! You have grown so… It is only a matter of time before you’ll be able to carry me on your shoulders…"

[natepenhallow-blog]

Jonathan Rochester reached for his wife's face, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand as he smiled lovingly at her. "I am glad you are home. How was the trip, my love? Not too exhausting, I hope. I know Rachael and Ella here would like to catch up with their mother." Jonathan looked down at his youngest daughter. He smiled and lifted her up before walking over to stand beside Ella. He knew how his children must feel with their mother working in Idris and them not being able to come along because of what he was and how desperately his pack needed him. After the death of their Alpha just five years after he married Emily, Jon was forced to take the role. He was thankful for Emmett, his second-in-command and closest friend. "Am I right, Rachael? Ella?" his gaze drifted to Rachael, and then to his eldest daughter. A smile was on his lips as he regarded the two. As his son spoke, his attention drifted to Nate and he couldn't help but notice that Emily was right. Nate was all grown up. He was almost as tall as Jon now, and Jon hadn't noticed that before.

"I'm hardly a little baby boy, Mama." Nate said, chuckling as his mother pinched his cheeks as if he was four and not fourteen. Truth be told, Nate liked the attention he got from both of his parents. Ever since he was a child, they'd been very attentive and loving towards him. They always catered to his needs, always made sure that he was okay. Whenever he arrived home with an injury during the first few years after he received his Mark, his mother would worry constantly and would summon a Silent Brother just to make sure Nate was fine, even though he would insist that he was and that an iratze was all it would take for the wounds to heal. Nate smiled fondly at the memory and wished things could go back to how they were before his mother was given the position as Consul. Of course he would never wish for her to just give up the great work she was doing simply because Nate wanted to spend more time with her, but he often wished there was a way for her to stay home for more than a week every month. "So how are you, Mama? How is Idris? I hope you are not overworking yourself.. That is never good. And for how long will you stay this time?"

[emmelinelightwood-blog]

Yes, it certainly does. Well, of course I expected you to grow, but not that fast. You are four years younger, but already taller than me. How far up will you go?

They have, yes. Are your parents here too?

[natepenhallow-blog]

I am hoping I do not become a giant. Perhaps just a few inches over six feet.. [he laughs] I do remember being shorter than almost everyone around, even those younger than I am.

My mother is arriving today. My father, on the other hand, should be around here somewhere. And yours?

[helenawate-blog]

Oh no...

[helenawate-blog]

It’s fine, really.

That would be helpful, yes. I’ve followed uh—-what was his name—Owain, I think, to the Institute. I haven’t met anyone who would be helpful though.

[natepenhallow-blog]

Owain Herondale? Well, I suppose all you can do is wait. You're a Mundane, yes? You do not have any Marks.