TURN THE LIGHTS ON

IN THESE VOLATILE TIMES. OLIVER WATSON. 24. WOLF.

[samantha-everly]

Olly’s familiar voice catches her attention, and Sam offers a slight smile in return. “Hi Olly.”

Now that she realizes what really happened on Saturday, she’s glad to see him. It wasn’t just her. She didn’t hurt him and not remember an ounce of it. Well - maybe she did. But it wasn’t her. “Yeah, m’okay. I have somethin’ to tell you, though.”

[olly-watson-blog]

“Something to tell me?” Her smile is reassuring, so he’s able to relax some, but...

“Christ, all right. I hope it’s not something bad. I didn’t, uh...do anything...terrible, did I? That you can remember...?”

[olly-watson-blog]

“Er...hey.”

He waves awkwardly, approaching the blonde. “You look all right. That’s a relief. Do you, uh...Are you feeling all right, then? I woke up with a bloody massive hangover. And I mean that in the most literal sense.”

[olly-watson-blog]

all the wicked prose✗

[reclusiion-deactivated20151226]

She’s been meaning to spend time with him, but this time of year is always so difficult. All she wants these days is to be alone––or at least, Hester thinks it’s what she wants. But when her head snaps up to look at Olly standing there with a basket in hand and a certain look on his face, her chest collapses for a moment and God does it sound good to be around someone. She looks from him back down to the work on her table, thinking that she needs to find a stopping point; but today she’s been so out of it that there was never a place she really started.

“Yeah, loads. You wanna eat in here or go somewhere?”

[olly-watson-blog]

“Here? Christ.” He laughs. “I don’t think we’d be---Nah, let’s go somewhere else. I think there’s a park nearby, isn’t there?”

There is, and he knows it---he tracked the Guarneri scent to that park He leads her there and spreads out a tattered blanket on the grass. Pats it beside him.

“Sit. I brought hot cocoa. And, uh...I wanted to tell you I’d like to start paying rent, if it’s all the same. At least ‘til I find my own place.”

[olly-watson-blog]

all the wicked prose✗

It’s been a few days since Olly returned to Hester’s apartment---confused, dirty, and covered in blood that he pretty sure wasn’t his. He hasn’t talked much to his impromptu roommate since then. Just a few polite hellos, a few good nights. Hester gets up much earlier than him most days, and he’s not likely to catch her before she heads to work---or before she returns for the night, for that matter.

Which is why he’d like to surprise her tonight, if he can.

He shows up at the museum with a small picnic basket full of stuff he thinks she likes, based on their conversations. He knocks on the door frame to catch her attention.

“Got a sec? I brought...sustenance.”

[dino-guarneri-blog]

The guilt only barely hits him. 

He knows it should be worse, with how much Olly must be hurting, with all this anger directed at him. Seeing Olly in front of him, so flushed and full of life just roots him further. Shitty or not, fuck, Olly’s alive. 

Dino’s lips just pull into a thin smile. “I’m an asshole,” he offers up, well aware that his horrible sense of humor doing no favors for him. He just hopes Olly still knows him and that can see the genuine concern and relief mixed in it all. “You look good. I’ve been worried.”

He reaches out for the other, intending to pull him in for a hug, unable to help himself. “If you need to punch me, do it.” 

[olly-watson-blog]

“Worried.” He laughs harshly. “Right. Fuck you.”

“You know, Santino, I can’t tell what’s worse---you pretending to be my friend or you pretending to be in the mafia and letting me feel sorry for you. Letting me think all those kids were being unfair to you, like you couldn’t help your background anymore than I can help mine. You were just faking it, weren’t you? You all were.”

“I thought we had something in bloody common. But as it turns out? Not so much.” He does a weeping up-and-down motion across his face. “I couldn’t fake this, could I?”

He considers Dino’s offer---If you need to punch me, do it. He shakes his head.

“Not worth it,” he bites. “Not when you’re letting me. If you’re going to be punched, it should be when you’re not fucking expecting it.”

[dino-guarneri-blog]

“Olly!” The relief spreads through his chest as his eyes fall on his old friend. It’s only there for a second before his words register. No, wait, this isn’t how it was supposed to play out. He’s been entertaining the thought for days— the words he’ll say, the way he’ll approach him. 

Though taken aback, he doesn’t step away. Having seen Olly’s anger over and over again by now’s either made him brave or stupid. “I can’t deny that.”

[olly-watson-blog]

It’s all he can do to keep from ripping his throat out. Olly’s never wanted to phase on command so badly---never wanted to tear someone up as badly as he does now.

And yet...

The familiar surge of friendship, of family, of love chokes him, and he falls back on his heels and stares at the man before him, chest heaving. He snarls impatiently and shoves Dino away.

“How the fuck d’you get off sounding so happy to see me? After what you did...?”

[dino-guarneri-blog]

“Hey, no, come here.” His dog resists, though, and Dino has to grab his collar to keep him from running off.

[olly-watson-blog]

“You bastard.”

Olly starts across the room, fist cocked, unmindful of the dog that cowers between them. “You absolute, bloody bastard.”

[olly-watson-blog]

SHINE RAZOR EYES IN DELIGHT: olly + sam

The wolf can sense death even before he can feel it between his teeth.

He can sense it—the scent of something dead, something dangerous, something that could kill him as easily as he could kill the prey he’s stalking. He shakes his head, breathes a cloud of blood-ridden steam into the air. He’s bitten something already. He doesn’t remember. Doesn’t think. Just runs.

Paws dig into the rough, muddy streets beneath him, claws scraping gravel. Hackles raised. The human he’s stalking is injured, which suits him fine, because he’s tired. The night is close to being over, and he’s ready for this game to end. Ready to win it. 

Something stirs the air and draws his attention. He goes stock-still and turns, eyes fixed to something pale and wavering in his vision.

Whatever it is, he’s no match for it—yet his hackles remain raised, his teeth bared. He digs his back paws into the earth and waits for it to advance. Whatever it may be.

[leo-seong]

“Stuck here, huh?” That’s a question as well as a joke, while Leo extends his hand to shake Olly’s. “I’m Leo. I’ve been here for a few months.”

[olly-watson-blog]

“Yeah...it’s kind of a long story.”

Olly rubs sheepishly at the side of his neck. “Not to go all Inigo Montoya in The Princess Bride on you, but...you wouldn’t happen to know any wolves from an Italian family, would you?”

[micah-travers]

“San Diego, yeah. Pinned that one down pretty fast there.” He smiles, seemingly in a lighter mood. “Is the UK keeping track of Cali slang now or are you just on top of it?” 

[olly-watson-blog]

“I kicked around with a few Californians when I was living in Brooklyn,” he explains. “But your slang is pretty much what we think about when we imagine American pop culture, honestly. It’s very distinct. Much cooler than ours, but it’s not fucking difficult to be.”

[reclusiion-deactivated20151226]

Hester can’t help it. There’s a rhythm she gets in when she’s furious like this, outraged and disgusted. (Guilt is eating up at her, taking tiny bits of her insides into its mouth bite by bite.) Once the people have become far enough away she begins to slow ––– doesn’t matter anyhow not that he’s in her path. That look on his face reminds her of the way Freya and Julien look at her and it makes her want to say everything. She doesn’t. She knows better.

Hester looks at him for a moment before taking his hand and pressing the paper into it, taking the leash from his other hand. All she can think of is the stupid stories her parents’ friends would tell sitting around a fire in their living room, swearing that as children they’d once seen wolves that turned to men and back again. She doesn’t know who will believe it these days; she knows she has no reason not to, not anymore, not after the Price brothers.

“It’s best if we go home,” she mutters, turning towards another street away from the crowd slow, waiting for Olly to walk along. “People here ––– they believe in ridiculous things. Some are foolish enough to believe that the death of a man in town, a co-worker of mine, was because of ridiculous things. I don’t know what more I can tell you.” 

I know exactly, she thinks, and she feels ill.

[olly-watson-blog]

The mood changes.

Olly walks behind Hester, the paper feeling heavy and leaden in his hand. WOLVES ARE HERE. He thinks briefly of Max, of that kind-looking man from earlier. The illustration of the gutted man in his office flashes before his mind’s eye like a crack of lightning. It’s almost enough to make him bear his teeth.

Almost. But he’s not sure he’d want the zealots to have the satisfaction.

He’s worried, now. He lives with Hester, who’s about as non-wolf (and non-vampire) as anyone he’s ever met. If he phases while she’s nearby...if he hurts her, what then? What if it really was wolves behind the attack on her coworker? In the illustration, he can see the prints are convincing enough; even if they were planted, it had to have been by a hunter. Someone who knows the damage his paws can wreak. 

Back in the apartment, Olly clears his throat. “Listen, Hester...if there are---erm, things here people think we should be afraid of...don’t you think maybe we should listen? What if---if there’s something here that can do serious damage on people like---” Like you. “---like us?”

[reclusiion-deactivated20151226]

Hester is smiling, cheeks searing in pain, all the way until suddenly a halt. She looks around at the people, most of them residents she grew up alongside. “Wait here,” she says, a light touch to his arm before shouldering her way through. A thousand excuse me’s leave her mouth but they’re only half-hearted, winded from the fear eating away at her stomach. Whatever this is, it isn’t good.

 WOLVES ARE HERE, reads the poster, and below an illustrated Mr. Johnston, his own entrails outside himself, making him a willow tree. Hester swallows the vomit in the back of her throat and tears it down, crumpling it in her hands, where it stays cradled as she walks back to Olly. Hester sighs and looks up at him. “Superstition will be the goddamn death of this town. –––– Let’s go.”

[olly-watson-blog]

“Superstition---Hang on...!”

He jogs to keep up with her---she’s walking surprisingly quickly---and frowns over his shoulder at the disappearing crowd. Something’s got the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Tennyson’s hackles are ever-so-slightly raised, as if in response. It’s getting colder. Olly wonders if bringing a coat might’ve been a good idea---but there’s a strange sheen of sweat gathering on the nape of his neck that tells him otherwise. Something’s seriously, instinctively amiss. 

“Hang on, Hester---what’s going on here?” He stands in front of her, blocking her path. Stares pointedly at the paper balled up in her fist. “What were they going on about...?”

[reclusiion-deactivated20151226]

Hester’s eyes go soft as she looks at him, a mix of envy and shock and relief forming the expression on her face. “No, actually.” Her voice is more of a breath than anything. “That sounds incredible. That sounds fascinating.” She shrugs at the question but something in her face brightens at the thought. We could get to know each other a bit more. She fights the urge to make a joke about how it’s about time, considering they’re sharing a roof. She thinks better of it. “Sure. You can tell me all about that lecture.”

[olly-watson-blog]

It’s nice---almost domestic, really. Olly’s never had a dog of his own, and Hester’s is a sweetheart. He’s found it easy to interact with some dogs---hard to interact with others. It really depends on their temperament. How territorial they are. How displeased at the thought of sharing space with another beast.

He talks about Tennyson, about Keats. About his Classics degree and all the extra lectures he sat in on----for diversity. For a chance to learn about art again. He talks at such length that he completely fails to notice the group of people they all but run into, huddled around a lamp post, staring at a flyer. Olly frowns.

“What’s going on?”

[reclusiion-deactivated20151226]

There’s something at the corner of his mouth, something of a smile, and Hester has to force herself not to focus on it. “His name is Tenny. Short for Tennyson.” She runs a hand through her hair and gives a tired smile, holding out the leash. “I’m happy to tag along as long as I don’t have to deal with Tenny’s pulling.”

[olly-watson-blog]

“Tennyson. Brilliant. You know, when I was at uni, I had a tutorial all about Tennyson. You’d think listening to an Oxford blowhard go on about Tennyson would be unbelievably fucking tedious, but...it was actually a good time.”

“D’you want to go now...?” He glances up at the young woman, smiles slightly. He hasn’t walked with a pretty girl in a long time---hasn’t really had the chance to. “We could get to know each other a bit more.”

[janelle--avery-blog]

“Maybe just a little bit. Especially here. Maybe you could take it as a chance to try out another name for a while. Have you ever? I d-id once. I um, liked… M-Michael? I had an obsession with this man, uh, Michael Jackson? It didn’t, um, end up well, just a little not well.”

“I am. Very much so, it’s cute. Warm? Bright. So many things.”

[olly-watson-blog]

He barks a laugh at “this man, Michael Jackson.”

“Yeah, I’m...familiar with Michael Jackson. You went by Michael because you liked Michael Jackson...? Seems a bit...extreme.”

[leo-seong]

“Essex must be one hell of a place,” he jokes, not completely sure what ‘Santa Bitch’ was doing with the reindeer. “Smart call for getting out of there when you did.”

[olly-watson-blog]

“You’ve absolutely no idea,” he says, grinning. Then: “I’m Olly, by the way. Uh---I sort of just got stuck here.” He holds out a hand for the other man---the other wolf---to shake.

[reclusiion-deactivated20151226]

“Hey Olly. And yeah, sure, anytime. Which is why I don’t think it’s fair of you to call them favors. I get up so early that not making you breakfast would be kind of ridiculous, wouldn’t it? I mean, if you don’t want me to, say the word. But I have to admit that the drawbacks of waking up so early is making the wrong breakfast. I’m glad someone could have it.” She’s rambling, saying too much, and she bites the inside of her cheek for a minute, trying to take a deep breath, stay concentrated. “Don’t worry about it. Maybe walk my dog once or twice for me? Something simple. A chore for a chore.” 

[olly-watson-blog]

Walk her dog. Olly nearly smirks, but doesn’t. He knows she won’t grasp the irony in that command---doesn’t quite want her to. She seems nice. He doesn’t want her thinking...Well, never mind.

“Sounds good to me. I’m sure me and---Wait, I never got your dog’s name.” He scratches the lab behind its ears, fondly. “We can’t be walking buddies if I don’t have your name.”