date and time: flashback??????
location: d8 time
status: closed to @oflaurcl
the anxiety started to settle in the moment he woke up, though he wasn’t going to lie. milo had been anxious since he sent the text. he was starting to realize that the funny feeling he got around his friend, whenever he heard her laugh or saw her smile was butterflies. fucking disgusting. but here he was, a picnic basket sitting on a folded up blanket in his back seat as he sat in her driveway, trying to psych himself up.
inexplicably, he found himself at her door. there was a slight hesitation, again, before he knocked. she most likely had seen his car, seen him sitting in front of her house for what felt like ages before making it here, but he still had the thought of running away. of pretending like, maybe, this was a joke. why would she have said yes to him, to all of this, anyway? and then, without even a knock, the door swung open. “uh, hey,” he said, a grin widening his lips.
Butterflies. There was a storm brewing inside of Laurel and Milo was responsible for bringing it to the surface. Nothing in life was inevitable - she had learnt that the hard way, still nursing a broken heart for the husband who had bailed, leaving only divorce papers behind. So she had to believe that this...whatever this was between she and Milo was an active choice. That they were choosing to explore this spark. That one day, they might choose to spend the rest of their lives together. If she could choose to open her heart up once more.
Seeking to dismiss those fears, she shook her head - jumping as there was a knock at the door. Collecting herself for a few moments, Laurel exhaled heavily as she swung it open; making sure to smile. How many times had he drawn a smile from her lips? How many more times might he? “Hi.” It was strange, getting to know someone you had known your whole life in a new way. This was her only her second first date - and last time, she had been sixteen years old, blushing with first love. What were you supposed to do? Compliment their appearance? Make small talk? Pretend she didn’t know Milo at all? Instead, she settled on the truth. “I’m really glad we decided to do this. But I’ll admit - I’m a little apprehensive about not knowing where you plan on taking me.”
Raine was staring at the place where it had happened, no, where it had all began. Their eyebrows deeply furrowed over their eyes, a bottle of strong liquor hidden in a brown bag in their right hand, their other deep into their pocket, gripped strongly around their phone. The fact that the dead body of a wolf had been lying there not so long ago, seemed to have almost disappeared, and along with it the note, just the red stain remained. But what had not gone was the strong sense of tension. Something in Blackrock had changed now.
They took a sip from the bottle, the liquid burned down their throat. And now? They were eager to find out who had been the killer, who had spilled the secret, who was tearing their pack apart. Since the morning of the news a rage had been growing inside their chest, but they had not been surprised to find it was not directed at the killer, but at the wolf who had been dumb enough to make known their secret. Not the one who knew who they were, but the one who had offered up the information on a silver platter that was now haunting the pack. Haunting them.
Another sip, more rage.
And what would they do if they found this person? Retaliate. What would they do if they found out that nobody had in fact spilled their secret? What were the odds of that?
“Fucking crazy,” he said into empty air, aware of someone close-by.
Fucking crazy. Their words sent a shiver down her spine, one she desperately sought to conceal. Because Laurel, the girl the town saw her as, had no reason to be afraid of this brooding figure. Apprehensive? Perhaps. After all, their reputation proceeded them. But fear? That could only come with certain insights - ones she had been sworn to secrecy about. In the light of day, it was difficult to pick out the distinction between wolf and man. The two seemed to run into each other. That made him all the more terrifying.
“Which part?” Laurel’s own answer to that would have been everything. The very fact there were wolves who were also men - werewolves? Noah hadn’t been precise on the terminology. The idea that one of them could have been shot. That it could have been done intentionally? No - Laurel didn’t want to imagine such cruelty. Who was capable of a sin like that? Because that...that would be murder.
Blinking as she turned to face him, Laurel tried to beat her fear back. If her hunch was true and the wolf had been someone...then Raine was potentially mourning. Hurting. She could relate to that - empathetic to put her humanity before her fear. “Or all of it?”
date: november 2nd, 11.37am
location: big sky ranch
availability: open
the soft ‘ding-ge-ling-ing’ pulled lola out of her thoughts as the door to the restaurant was yanked open and rattled the chimes above it. a surge of cold air, already smelling of frost, filled the entrance area where she was sitting behind her front desk. her hands were shaking as she quickly put the papers aside she’d been brooding over all morning.
work kept her sane, to a degree. it distracted her and gave her back some sense of normality. for a couple hours, when she was busy enough, it made her forget about a certain wolf-incident—or, at the very least, made it feel like a bad dream. but as soon as her mind was thrust back into the moment, it all came back, way too real.
it’s okay. it’s going to be okay. just start with a greeting. same couple words as always. safety procedure.
just barely, lola managed to swallow the lump that was building in her throat and even managed to put on a weak smile as she rose from her chair. “hi there, welcome to big sky ranch! how can i help you today? would you like a table for lunch or are you looking to make a reservation of our facilities?”
see? as always. everything is normal.
Learning didn’t stop the day you donned a graduation cap and tossed it as high as you could, half-hoping it would never come back down. But Laurel was discovering that learning, as an adult, isn’t coated in bubble wrap. There’s a brutality to it. Discovering long-held secrets. The mutilation of a wolf. The potential murder of a soul. But whilst Laurel would have liked to say that she wished her parents had warned her, she understood the impulse to protect. It the same one she had with her daughter.
In need of a distraction, a friendly face and perhaps the guidance of a wiser soul, Laurel drove up to the ranch; trying to loosen her grip on the wheel. Lingering by the door, she studied Lola curiously from afar; anxious to ensure she was fine too and wondering how she’d bring it up tactfully if that was the case. Even after all this time, Lola was something of a puzzle. But Laurel knew better than to push. When Lola was ready, the door would open.
Shaking herself out of her trance, she walked over to the desk, mouth curving into a smile. “How about inviting a friend over for dinner? What time do you finish today?”
date & time: early november, late at night
location: bridge on the edge of town
availability: open
Nighttime is better for animals. Better for Carson, too — when the sun’s down and nobody can find her, when there are no searchlights nor sirens nor sound. Her father was the same way when he was allowed to live in Blackrock: a cigarette under the bridge after a day fraught with people, a Miller High Life alone after a morning shift. She doesn’t want to talk about today nor the body, but someone is breaking the stillness she’s found here and she’s not sure what to say. “Bad things happen at night, you know,” she says, finally. “Better get home before something hurts you.”
Tonight is eerily similar to the one she discovered the truth about Noah. The stars shine just as bright and there’s an ever-present chill in the air that no amount of layers can fully remove. Sense dictates she shouldn’t be here - not after last time - but tonight, newspaper clippings stacked on her car passenger seat, she thinks fresh air might help her make sense of things. Pensive thoughts disrupted by a voice cutting through the air, Laurel turn towards its source. “Less chance of getting hurt if there’s two of us, right?”
Sense told him to stay as far away from the square as possible and yet here he was on a trip into town when he’d specifically planned his route to take him nowhere near the spot where the body of the wolf had been left. What had been something he could easily walk away from in the forest had become a storm sweeping through the whole town. And there was little to no chance a single damn person would believe he’d left the body exactly where it fell and left before another wolf could appear.
Eric’s stop wasn’t meant to be long. Just a simple glance at the spot to confirm that yes, the body was still gone. Thankful he was good at masking what he didn’t want to show. Other than the slight twist of a scowl on his lips, he kept what he was feeling unreadable. “They learned to stop quickly.” Not even a glance was spared in the direction of the animal rights activists. “Because PETA’s known as warm and cuddly. No one would bat an eye if you slammed a door in PETA’s face. If anything they’ll make people defensive and things’ll get worse.”
Struggling to find the right words to address his abrupt response, Laurel twisted various sentences around in her mouth, the silence stretching out further between them. Eventually, she settled on a half-sigh half-oh. Then, after a beat, she tried to lighten the mood. “You’ll have to teach me your ways.” That was one of her failings - her inability to ever tell anyone no, to even consider the possibility of letting them down. Even when they were a stranger. She supposed it was both a blessing and a curse, in an odd way. “What would anyone have to be defensive about?” There are some questions better left unsaid. As this one left her lips, Laurel wondered - belatedly - whether this was one of those. Blackrock and its residents had more secrets than sense - and events like this had a funny habit of shaking them loose.
The outcome was unbelievable. Romeo found out the hard way that he had billowed into town at the wrong time. He couldn’t ignore the whispers which felt so volatile. And behind all the hubbub? One fucking wolf. He’d read something — after renting a makeshift home in Blackrock for a short while, state sanctioned protection for wildlife, maybe just wolves. It was all blurry in his mind, but he thought that was the extent of it. An entire rally seemed…. overkill. Like they were sentencing the town’s population to damnation for existing in the same space. Archaic, but he wouldn’t be the one to preach to them.
Eyebrows raised inexplicably before falling to their resting place once more. “… Not sure. Three of ‘em?” It sounded worse than the string of religious recruitment stories he heard over the years, maybe even beat out the political campaigners. Romeo wasn’t even sure he could vote, didn’t you need a driver’s license for that? “You really checked?” Not that he would take their word for it, but organizations, groups, whatever they were called, didn’t strike his fancy. He couldn’t advocate for something he knew nothing about.
Confirming Romeo’s question, Laurel nodded; her head bobbing up and down with the repetition. “All from out of town.” Realising how her words could have come across, she quickly added: “Not that there’s anything wrong with that - of course. It just surprised me, Blackrock doesn’t usually get so much attention from people like that. We’re kinda tucked away in the middle of nowhere.” Half of the people she had grown up with despised that, lashing out with teenage frustration at what they perceived to be the stillness of life. They had clawed their way out of the cage, escaping as soon as they could.
Laurel hadn’t seen her structure as a cage. If the influx of new individuals were anything to go by, they didn’t see Blackrock as a cage either.
Nodding again, she explained her actions. “I hate the idea of supporting a cause that isn’t worthy of it. It probably sounds stupid but - “ exhaling heavily, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears “It just seemed like the right thing to do. If it’s easy to be moral then...that’s what I try to do - and just hope that I make the right decisions as I go along.” If only the world were so clear cut between good and bad. She used to think it was - possessing all the naive innocence of a child well into adulthood. Recent events had complicated that.
“I think they did but it was one of the boys who answered the door. Safe to say they’re never going to even consider coming back.” It was probably the only good thing that had come out of the situation they faced. Everything seemed to remind her that one false move and one of them could be the next ending up displayed as a trophy in the middle of the square. It made her stomach turn, which was the reason she could barely eat anything recently.
She watches as the gathering around them shyly gets bigger as the minutes pass. “This is a waste of time and space.” Avery’s words are bitter, and she is sure if she could have it her way she would personally escort each individual out of the town. She wondered how many dressed in their green shirts, placing down their stupid banners would continue their so called protest if they knew they were standing on a person’s grave instead. “I wonder if this is going to drive off the tourists on the upcoming months. Or maybe this will make more come than usual, seeing as people are crazy these days.”
“Silver linings, right?” Laurel had always been the kind of girl to believe in those, who thought that no matter how dark the night was; the sun would always rise. Some people called her naive for it - and although it had broken her heart once or twice, she wouldn’t swap who she was for the world. Maybe part of that was because she was too afraid to, but she liked to think that some of it was because she had pride in herself too.
Straddling the line of diplomacy between the two sides, Laurel turned to Avery gently. “It isn’t a waste of time for them, they obviously believe in their cause.” As far as she knew, Avery didn’t suspect what she did - that it hadn’t been a wolf at all. Or at least, not completely. Maybe that was why she inched closer towards the activists and their position. Puzzled at Avery’s reasoning, Laurel frowned. “You think that a dead wolf has the power to put people off that much?”
It wasn’t that Allegra disliked their neighbor, but, well, she wasn’t exactly their favorite person. There was nothing wrong with her, really, just-Allegra liked space, still felt a little too caged in, trapped, and the woman was always a bit much for their tastes. It didn’t help that it was seemingly impossible to avoid her-even now, no where near their block, here she was. “I don’t really answer when people knock and I don’t know them,” they admitted with a shrug. They always looked before opening their door, too paranoid to expose themselves to a potential thread on the other side. “PETA?” they repeated, trying to recall why that would be a bad thing. PETA liked animals, didn’t they?
Nodding her head in acknowledgement, Laurel turned her body towards her neighbour. “That’s probably safer. But then it’s Blackrock - bad things aren’t supposed to happen here.” Even as she said she words, Laurel felt her conviction fade away. It felt disingenuous to spin that lie - not when she knew how murky things lay beneath the surface; if not their true extent. “People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals. It’s actually pretty ironic - they’ve slaughtered thousands of animals, whilst claiming to be protecting them.”
date & time: november 3rd, 16.25pm
location: pioneer square
availability: open
Some stains are so persistent, your mother once told you, furiously scrubbing at a dress of yours, that you eventually have to throw them out and start all over again. Laurel had built half of her life based off of her mother’s wisdom, but in this case, there was no new beginning. A wolf was dead. No - a person was dead. No - someone might be dead. After all, true wolves still existed, didn’t they? Questioning the most basic of biology, she felt the lines between reality and fiction begin to blur.
Distracted from her thoughts by the soft murmur of animal rights activists approaching townspeople and placing banners, Laurel turned to the person standing at her side. “Did they come to your house too? I’ve had three of them knock on my door in two days.” Laurel hadn’t had it in her to ask them whether they’d care less if it did turn out to be a human. “I had to check they weren’t with PETA first.”
Moral alignment / MBTI / enneagram: neutral good, INFP, the peacemaker
HISTORY
You’re small. You could fit your whole world inside your pocket. She’ll never forget the last words her ex-fiance said to her, his tongue laced with acid as he shut the door on her, Blackrock and their life together. But the knife he thought he wielded turned out to be a blunt instrument. The world too small for him has always been big enough for her. We’re simple people, her mother used to tell her, so long as we have a roof, a job and the air in our lungs; we have enough. Making this mantra her own as she grew, Laurel has never seen any reason to challenge it. Generations of her family have called Blackrock their home, from cradle to coffin — she always intended to be the same.
A girl more comfortable living inside of other people’s stories than her own, she spent her formative years with her nose in a book; soaking up adventures in places she would never see, with people she would never meet. When the time came to shed her girlhood, Laurel’s peers were fascinated with creating adventures of their own. Laurel was never one of them. She preferred literature. It wasn’t about happily-ever-afters, or needing a journey to be complete - she knows that not all loose ends can be tied and that sometimes, there’s only heartbreak - but Laurel always knew that her story would never match up to the one on pages. She made her peace with that.
At seventeen, Laurel set pen to paper and discovered that there are some journeys you can take without ever leaving your seat. Pouring her heart into her work, she wrote about first loves, fairies dancing during the summer solstice and forthright detectives solving homicides in distant cities. Like many teenage girls, Laurel was searching for something. In this case, she found her purpose, a reason for being. I’m going to be a writer, she excitedly told her high-school boyfriend, with all the naivety and all the self-assurance of a young soul.
That very same boyfriend got down on one-knee exactly seventeen months later. Laurel held a pink pregnancy test in one hand and a nineteenth birthday card in the other. If Blackrock were a different kind of town, malicious rumours would soon bear her name. Neighbours would gossip about the freshly graduated hussy who got herself knocked up. Distant family members would scoff at her cheap plastic engagement ring. Old high school friends would lament how her life had ended before it had barely begun. As it is, her neighbours dig out their old baby clothes, her mother digs out her old veil and her friends all vie to be bridesmaids. Those nine months are her golden days.
Annabelle Carter-Taylor comes right on time. She weighs six pounds and three ounces. She is the most beautiful creature Laurel has ever seen. Her fiance disagrees. Being saddled with fatherhood was never part of his plan. Marrying his high-school sweetheart loses its saccherine sweet appeal. He leaves them both as winter’s first frost sets in, not looking back once as he slams the door behind.
Traditions have always mattered to her. In her childhood, Laurel grew uncharacteristically animated when the holidays came around, seams splitting with excitement. As an adult, all her jubilation was transferred to Annabelle; determined that she would grow up surrounded with just as much joy as Laurel had. The customs have remained mostly unchanged over the years. Christmases begin with Annabelle bundling into her bed, dragging a too-heavy sack of presents behind her and end with roast goose at Laurel’s parents house. Easters are spent in Church, with Laurel architect of the annual egg hunt. Each Halloween, Annabelle dons a costume made by her grandmother, patiently spinning as Laurel takes a thousand photos, trying to capture as much of her daughter whilst she can. But Thanksgiving will always be her favourite, surrounded by every member of her family, eating her weight in turkey.
Since Annabelle’s birth, Laurel has penned a thousand stories, all of them unfinished. It was as if her existence eclipsed everything else in her life, making all pursuits but motherhood worthless. Laurel’s own mother told her that came from a place of wanting to prove herself as a parent - and that it would fade with time. You’ll feel less guilty about loving other things later, she whispered, just watch. But she was wrong. Time ticks on and still, her muse never returned. You can’t pay for food with unfinished novels and so Laurel shelved her dreams of being a writer, telling herself it was just for a while. Instead, she took on an array of odd-jobs around Blackrock; a shop clerk for a year, a waitress for another eighteen months. Eventually, with mounting bills and aging parents who couldn’t provide free childcare forever, she settled on Blackrock Elementary. It isn’t the stuff of fantasies, but maybe being published was an adventure too far for a girl like her.
It was as cold as death that night. The woman wasn’t the kind to take risks, to drive on backroads alone, or pursue a path that could lead her astray. But her daughter had begged to be picked up from a sleepover - so how could she deny her wish? The night everything changes for Laurel unfolds like one of her half-finished manuscripts. It might even make a good story - if it hadn’t been her life. Laurel’s first taste of a thrilling adventure wasn’t one she had ever wanted, or one she’s embraced since. Trapped inside her car, phone almost dead, she thought she’d stumbled across a guardian angel when she saw Noah’s figure moving in the gloom. His name died on her lips the moment she witnessed man become beast. Her first emotion is terror. It has one that has prevailed since; evolving from fear of Noah, to alarm at the panic in his own voice, to horror as you consider how his warning might ruin Annabelle’s life.
CONNECTIONS:
laurel and OPEN (to anyone who grew up in blackrock) spent their childhood walking in and out of each other’s lives, friends since school, their bond has survived the trials of adulthood and remains strong to this day.
laurel trusts LOLA to babysit annabelle when she’s busy. over time, they’ve built up a relationship akin to a second/extended family.
these two really are family. laurel and OPEN are first/second/third cousins whose families spend all the holiday’s together.
after having her heartbroken by her ex-fiance, laurel has been reluctant to let anyone in. she and OPEN shared an awkward few dates a few months ago and now they can’t bear to meet each other’s eyes.
book club buds (open to multiple): laurel and these individuals are in blackrock’s only book club together. they meet weekly at the ugly mug cafe.
AVERY caught laurel pouring over missing person’s reports immediately after the wolf was found in the square and is now suspicious of her.
those aren’t the only reports laurel is chasing. she’s recently begun to dig up old records (government contracts given out, election results, charitable grants) and stick her nose in where it may not be wanted. OPEN is hiding a secret and desperately wants to put laurel off their scent.
CONNOR has given laurel reason to believe that they may be hiding a secret....perhaps a furry one. maybe she runs as far as she can from them, perhaps she’s drawn closer.
laurel and ALLEGRA are next-door neighbours. whether or not they appreciate a laughing child running around the back garden, laurel’s sub-par bakes or constant “hellos” is up to you.
always a friendly face, laurel welcomed OPEN when they first arrived in blackrock and has tried to be their support system since.
RAINE picked up a short story laurel accidentally left behind in buckshot bar and grill. it was a children’s tale based roughly on a man who can change into any mammal he chooses - including a wolf. runs a little too close to the truth, doesn’t it?
the two of you stuck around blackrock when everyone else was off at college and despite your differences, laurel and OPEN bonded over being the only two left.
