Indie verse

Private independent blog for War & Peace.

[peacefullyviclent-blog]

rebclswithoutapause‌:

“At times I do,” she admitted. On one hand, she missed being surrounded by people who knew the truth about who she was and her situation. On the other hand, she was a basic stranger and had the chance to start completely over until her magic returned. She felt that same tug to be near him that she always had. This was what she had wanted to avoid with the fail-safe; the underlying awkwardness. 

Her fingers brushed over the damp skin on the back of her neck, where her short strands now took the place of her long hair. Emerson missed the modesty of her long dresses. Women wearing pants and showing off their figures? Unheard of. Yet it wasn’t her place to comment. 

Golden-brown eyes zoomed in on the paper cup with the string poking out of the lid and her brow furrowed.

What on Earth? she wondered, yet she forced herself to pull the look of confusion off her face. If she was to blend in with this modern society, she needed to act as these women acted. If it meant drinking tea as they did, she would. Yet she couldn’t control the expression on her face as she prized off the lid of her cup to see the strange contraption containing her tea. Common sense told her to not touch the tea bag. Bohe-Tea was far more commonplace, it appeared. The person behind the counter hadn’t even blinked when August ordered it.

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” she informed him. She took a sip of the concoction and her eyes stretched wide. “Green tea?!” 

It was an expensive delicacy; nearly ten shillings a pound. The McCarthy family had saved it for upper-class company and servants were forbidden from sneaking a taste. The servants did, however. 

If green tea was commonplace here, Emerson had to reel in her shock. “I apologize for my reaction. It’s…not a common beverage from where I hail.”

“It seems like these changes came with something bittersweet,” he was honest with her. “What do you miss the most about it?” August wondered. “I love having, you know, most things at the click of a button, though I can’t say I’m fond of feeling as if my every move is being watched. I don’t enjoy it when it seems like people I don’t even know are ore aware of the things I have been up to than myself,” he shook his head a few times. “So, I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I don’t enjoy the whole *the walls have ears* thing,” August drew air quotes around the words.

It was curious how that woman appeared to bring a more talkative side of him out, for he was not known as a person of many sentences. There was something about her that made him feel as if she would, somehow, understand anything he might end up telling her, and it made no sense why, for he didn’t even know her name.

Noticing the way she reacted to the cup he assumed something had gone awry with what he had gotten her. Moving a hand inside his coat, the man picked up a silver flask. His fingers twisted the cap open and he removed the lid of his coffee before pouring in a generous amount of the amber liquid inside. He mixed around with some deliberation as if he was calculating what would be next.

“If you don’t like it, I can get you something else,” he announced, then took a sip out of his own beverage. His eyes continued to scan the woman’s face searching for anything that might give him a hint.

August set the cup down and a small smile played on his lips. “I thought it was something you could enjoy,” he revealed. He wasn’t sure the reason why he had that feeling, but, it appeared as if the inkling was correct after all. “Green tea seems to be everywhere around here. And when done properly, it’s quite tasty,” he continued. “The offer still stands though. If you’d like anything else,” the phrase trailed off.

Quickly shifting in his seat as if he had just suffered a muscle spasm, August leaned forward in the small table surface. “I’m August,” he introduced himself and offered a hand she could shake.

[peacefullyviclent-blog]

rebclswithoutapause‌:

Everyone in New Orleans was connected somehow. Emerson could easily recognize some names she had known from over two hundred years ago, yet no one knew hers but from a cautionary tale. She had been told by the council as to the full nature of what lies had been spread, that Serena McCarthy had died the martyr instead of murdering her fiance and sending his pregnant lover away. That Emerson and August had tried to kill her in order to be together. “Not as small as it used to be,” she submitted, though she doubted he would understand her full meaning. 

She couldn’t allow herself to be immersed in what could easily be a lie or a trick. Especially when Emerson knew what lied behind those hazel depths. She couldn’t allow herself to fall back into that when she didn’t know what was real, not when she still felt as though he recognized her. 

“Tea,” she stated. Black tea with milk and a lump of sugar, at least. Yet Emerson knew that people didn’t drink tea the same way she did. These cups appeared flimsy. 

Not as small as it used to be. August thought about the words, allowed them to sink in. In his line of work, he had the chance to watch it happen as people arrived and businesses opened and closed. The woman seemed to reminisce of a simpler time, and there was a part of him that thought she could have come from some tiny town where everyone just happened to know one another. He had heard New Orleans was once like that, but not anymore. And not for a long time. “Do you miss it? I mean... That time?” He found himself uttering the question out loud, not even sure why he’d done it.

As the subject veered towards her beverage of choice, August thought it was peculiar, and it merely served to put more queries and conjectures inside his head. “Please feel free to take a seat,” he made an ample gesture towards the place before getting a spot on the line to place their orders. He couldn’t quite remember when was the last time he had done something as trivial as that.

A few minutes later, August placed a small plastic tray on the surface of what was a somewhat sticky table. “Tea for the lady,” he announced, moving that side of the tray towards her. “And I thought you might enjoy some biscuits to go with it.”

[rebclswithoutapause]

I@peacefullyviclent​ (continued)

Perhaps she had been wrong and this wasn’t him. After all, doppelgangers had to exist? Perhaps he was simply her love’s descendant and bore an uncanny resemblance to the man she had known. After all, Emerson bore a strong resemblance to her father’s mother. An uncanny resemblance to her love didn’t necessarily mean that it was him. “It was a very long time ago. Seems like it was a different…lifetime.”

Her hand recoiled as if the strange object held the capacity to harm her. After all, without her magic, Emerson was as good as human. She couldn’t risk being injured or harmed in any way until her abilities returned and she could fix it. It was one thing if she could perform some sort of spell to see him for real. All she had was blind faith in them from two hundred and seven years ago. “It’s quite alright, I trust your word,” she informed this…impostor. It was on the tip of her tongue to say I trust you, yet she couldn’t. Not until she knew.

His offer of anything had her balking. Whatever this fashion was of this century had her acutely aware of eyes on her. The orange sundress clung to her like a second skin, much like a dressing gown instead of what she was used to. “No, no. I’ll be alright. I promise. I just….”

[peacefullyviclent-blog]

“It seems as if this town is full of little coincidences such as that,” he pointed out, his head canting in the process. It was not the first time he had heard of something of the sorts, and, it was easier to believe the alternative of a coincidence than the sort of lore some other people seemed to talk about. “Besides, it is a fairly small town, I don’t think it’s impossible that our paths might have crossed somewhere else. Even if just… Briefly,” he amended, still having the odd impression that the two of them might have known one another.

Still, as he attempted to show her the phone, she seemed to react in an off-kilter manner that had him puzzled. Something about her demeanor exuded this kind of mystery and he wondered what could take to make her unravel. Spinning the cellphone between his thumb and forefinger, August allowed the device to hang between the two of them for a moment longer before making it disappear inside his pocket once more.

“You just…?” he questioned, his hazel eyes lowering to her as August pressed for what might continue that sentence. August wasn’t the sort of man who generally heard the word no, so, it only served to pique his curiosity - and other people rarely ever had that sort of effect on him. They were dull. Predictable. Boring. It normally did not take more than a couple of seconds to have them figured out. “...wanted some coffee, perhaps?” August added and a lopsided smile appeared on his lips.

[peacefullyviclent-blog]

wartornsupernaturals‌:

It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him. The same face, she could see the same flicker of her August reflected in the same hazel eyes. He was different. The fail-safe had backfired and….everything was wrong. How could everything be so wrong?

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” she muttered. She wasn’t supposed to be resurrected. She was supposed to be reincarnated alongside him. Their souls were supposed to remain intertwined until they got it right. Now she was stuck with the memories of him, but he’d started completely over. 

Upon her arrival to America, they’d called it the new world. Of course, now it was an entirely different world. Perhaps it was the ancestors exacting their revenge for what she’d done with the magic. Perhaps that was why she had to wait until they deemed it necessary to release it to her. In her desperation to hold on to a doomed love, she had angered them. Magic wasn’t supposed to manipulate fate and hers had. 

“You look like someone I knew. Long time ago. You aren’t him. I’m sorry about your rectangle.”

Something had been said underneath her breath, he was aware of that much, but, he did not know what it was. He hadn’t heard it, and, the notion made him wonder whether she happened to be alright.

You look like someone I knew. Okay, so, now they seemed to be getting somewhere. Or, at least, he got something from her that he thought made some kind of sense. And, based on her reaction, he was going to go ahead and make a few assumptions. Considering her pale complexions and the fact that she seemed incredibly surprised, August believed whoever he might remind her of, was no longer in the realm of the living.

“I… I’m sorry for your loss,” he attempted, not entirely sure what else he could say. “And… You don’t have to worry about my phone,” he mentioned, his head moving from side to side before he retrieved it from his pocket. “My phone’s fine. Here, have a look,” August slipped the device to her so that she might have a look, hoping that if she had the chance to analyze it on her own, it was something that would put her a little more at ease.

“Is there anything I might be… I might be able to offer you? It doesn’t look like this rain will be going away any time soon.”

[peacefullyviclent-blog]

wartornsupernaturals‌:

With how hectic life had gotten for Phoebe, she had regrettably let people slip through the cracks. Paul, unfortunately, had been one. Westley was two and a terror in every sense of the word. No one had braced Phoebe for how terrible twos were with a hybrid child; she was a bitten werewolf, not a born one. 

A nanny with the council had graciously offered to take care of Wes for the day and it finally let Phoebe out of the house kid-free for a few hours. She could get beignets. She could get coffee. Best of all, she could have a hassle-free breakfast with her brother without having to break conversation to chide Westley that he couldn’t get into things. Underneath it all, she loved her son. 

A bag dangled from her fingers on one hand, a cardboard carrier containing two paper cups of coffee in the other, she adjusted to knock on the door. “Paul? It’s Phoebe. I have beignets!” she called.

Shuffling over to get the door open, Paul dodged the remainder of the boxes from his move. He should have already been able to get rid of them all already, but, he was far from being one of the most organized people out there, and, well, quite frankly, he sometimes wondered why bother with something of the sorts. It wasn’t as if he was frequently entertaining guests anyway.

Locks were opened and the door suddenly swayed, revealing a still somewhat sleepy Paul as his gaze focused on his sister, then on the goods she had brought along. If this happened to be an exchange that happened before her marriage, Paul would have made sure she knew there was no need for her to bother with something like it. However, the situation had changed, and, he didn’t often find himself in a position in which he could pass on the free treats.

“Come on in, sis,” he stepped aside, making room for her to enter. “It’s really nice you could come. I feel like I have not seen you in ages,” he mentioned.

[peacefullyviclent-blog]

wartornsupernaturals‌:

Emerson’s eyes zeroed in on the strange rectangle he held in his hand. What could possibly be so entrancing about a little thin rectangle? What was this strange dream she was waking up in?

She wanted to wake up in her own time. She wanted to have the past two hundred plus years to have been a nightmare induced by her pregnancy…

Her pregnancy. Emerson’s hand stole across her stomach. Flat. Empty. No slight swell of a growing baby inside her. She wasn’t going to wake up in her chambers and see her love when he happened by the house. This was some cheap imitation of her August. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Even his voice sounded like him, but how?

“Pick-up line?” Her head shook as if she was trying to clear it, eyes darting back and forth between her now-unfamiliar world. “I don’t understand. I understand none of this, this is all so strange.”

Something about the woman’s plight was off-kilter to him, something he did not know or could not quite pinpoint. It was as if although she was there, she didn’t quite belong there. 

Standing back up to his full height, August shrugged the excess of water out of his shoulders, yet, her question had him blinking a couple of times. She had, quite successfully, lost him.

“Don’t understand… What?” he questioned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. In an attempt to find meaning in her words, he began backtracking what had happened inside his head.

It was raining, he entered that cafeteria for shelter, he was typing down a reply, he bumped into her and the phone fell, he thought she looked familiar, he asked, completely aware of how corny the question would come across.

There. That was everything. Or had he, somehow, missed something while picking up his phone? It could have seemed like an idiotic assumption, but, he had seen weirder things happening around that town.

[wartornsupernaturals-blog]

closed starter for @peacefullyviclent

Since her resurrection, everything was a huge culture shock. She had quite literally gone forward in time. One minute, she was holding her cramping stomach in 1812 and the next, she was in 2019. Two hundred and seven years had passed and it was like waking up in a new land. 

The council’s resurrection was what brought her back. “This is wrong, this is all wrong,” she muttered as she staggered out of the house. McCarthy House was wrong. It was all wrong. Everyone looked so different. Her fingers came up to brush through the now short hair and it was all Emerson could do to keep from bursting into tears. Her long, enviously pretty hair was unceremoniously cut to her chin and the dress she’d been buried in had been replaced with something completely different. She staggered on unsteady legs from the house into the pouring rain. 

Her magic was depleted. It had to return on its own. No magic, no way of finding her way around New Orleans. She had no way of knowing if her fail-safe had worked and August was alive because of this. It was supposed to result in reincarnation, not resurrection. She found shelter in the closest cafe, brushing her wet hair out of her face. Her petite body collided with something solid and golden eyes looked up to see a familiar face.

There should have been a flicker of recognition. August should have found her familiar but not know where. That was how it was supposed to work. He wore her long-lost love’s face, but it wasn’t him. Emerson’s fingers curled into the corner of the counter to steady herself. “Sorry,” she muttered.

[peacefullyviclent-blog]

August couldn’t complain about the sort of life he had been born into. He was the first son of the Bickerstaff clan, which consisted of his parents, Christopher and Irene Bickerstaff, and two younger siblings. Their family that had become prominent all over New Orleans for their law firm, which normally figured in most legal transactions involving lands in that State. One would be surprised about how peculiar those townsfolk could be about whose name a building might have been under, but, it came to their benefit. August’s career had been pretty much traced for him since birth, and, he ended up following suit, taking over some of the most prestigious clients whenever it needed be. It had never been something he quite minded doing, though it wasn’t as if he loved it either.

That day he had been off to attend a meeting that ended up stretching longer than he had anticipated, and, as soon as August heard the rain that had started pelting on the windows of the bistro, he knew he had made a big mistake. His car, a black 1967 Corvette, was parked several blocks away from there. Apparently not bothered by the sudden downpour, the people he was meeting with continued speaking for a while longer, yet, August wasn’t paying attention any longer.

In his pocket, his cell phone vibrated with a text. Lifting it up just enough so he could see it’s content, August’s restlessness only became more acute. And, finally, people were motioning to leave. A bill was brought to the table, and August scribbled a sloppy signature. The office would handle the costs of that meal.

Heading out, the man could barely see what was ahead of him due to the rain. Moving to his car was impossible, so, he entered the first place with the lights on and tugged on his jacket to rid himself of the excess of water.

“Running late,” he typed down, but, before he could hit send, someone bumped into him, sending the phone to the floor. August looked down at the woman, someone he couldn’t really recall having seen before, though there was something eerily familiar about her. Still, he dismissed the apology with a flick of his wrist. He was partially to blame for the run in, he hadn’t been looking after all. “I wasn’t looking,” he justified, bending over to pick the phone up and tucking it back inside a pocket on his jacket.

“I know this is going to sound like a bad pick-up line, but, have we met before?”

[peacefullyviclent-blog]

@wartornsupernaturals

It had been a while since Paul had seen his sister. Since she was one of the few people he knew around town, he would never pass on the opportunity of seeing her, of catching up. He had invited her to come over, check his new place, even though he had no doubt she would nag at him for the mess he was had been able to make, all on his own. That part, well, that wasn’t important. And they could figure out what they would be doing when she got there.

[peacefullyviclent-blog]

supernaturalxlovers‌:

Hilda laughed. “I may have said that once or twice over the centuries” she admitted. “But I say it from a place of love, you know.” Brida was the closest thing Hilda had to a child, which is why she’d been happy to help the younger woman during her first years as a vampire. Then she raised her eyebrows. “How is Renata? Still crazier than a rock star on acid?” Hilda knew the two sisters did not get along, in large part because of Renata’s cruel nature. As she finished preparing the drinks, she turned to face Brida. “Do you want some blood in yours?” The minifridge under the bar was well-stocked with blood Hilda had gotten from a blood bank.

“Probably once or twice over each of the centuries,” she remarked, her shoulders traveling up and down with a shrug. “And it’s because I’m aware of it that I have not thrown in some kind of tantrum. And the reason why I keep coming back, otherwise I might have just been gone for good,” Brida commented with a chuckle. Another heavy sigh emerged from the younger one. “That is one way to put it,” she agreed, her head moving up and down with it. “And now she has put her hands in one of those daylight rings, so, we all know this is some sort of tragedy waiting to happen,” Brida revealed, and her discontentment with it was painfully obvious. “Yes, please. It will probably help get some of the edge off.”

[peacefullyviclent-blog]

supernaturalxlovers‌:

Renata smirked. “I don’t have to tell myself anything” she said. “Don’t you know that talking to yourself is a sign of insanity?” She failed to see the irony in her statement, despite the fact that she was about as unhinged as vampires came. Rolling her eyes, she said “Mingling, huh? Well don’t get your shoes dirty down here in the muck with the rest of us. Some stains are hard to get out.” And she wasn’t just talking blood. The stains on Renata’s soul were numerous, adding up over centuries of cruel acts. With a shake of her head, she said “Just because I don’t want to swap friendship bracelets with my food doesn’t make me a barbarian. You don’t see many humans worrying about whether a pig will suffer when its slaughtered to make bacon, do you?” For Renata, humans were useful for food and very little else. With a snort, she said “Are you such fragile now that you can be hurt by words?” She considered her sister tragically weak. “No one of consequence” she said with another wave of her hand. “A witch who had more magic than common sense.”

“Does this mean you’re seeing yourself in these words?” Brida found herself wondering. “For if that happens to be the case, Schwester, I actually think we’re making progress,” she stated, her head moving up and down with a few nods. A hand flicked her hair from her shoulder and the younger woman displayed a smile. There was nothing wrong with enjoying the fine things in life. When one had the chance to live for as long as she did, it became somewhat of the norm, and she made no attempt at hindering it. “I’m sure there are many out there who would love whatever I could hand them down. Stained or not. We could call it an act of charity, even,” she mentioned, her way of saying she did not care about such stains after all. “Clearly you have not crossed paths with the vegans,” Brida stated and contained a roll of her eyes, but didn’t delve into the unnecessary subject. “In another life, I would have bothered,” she felt the need to clarify. “I wish I could say your methods surprise me, but, we’ve long passed those days, haven’t we, Renata?”

[peacefullyviclent-blog]

supernaturalxlovers‌:

“We have water, soda, juice, and beer” said Gabriel. Having a wife and son who relieved on food to survive, he made sure that the family fridge stayed well stocked with anything they might want. Besides, even as a vampire, Gabriel enjoyed drinking things besides blood. Then he chuckled. “I’m sure he’ll be up soon enough. He doesn’t nap very much these days.” It would be good, having his son there to help him connect with his brother-in-law. But he certainly wasn’t going to wake a sleeping child up for that. Even he wasn’t that crazy. “Thanks, I appreciate that” he added at Paul’s words about the state of the house. He should really consider hiring a maid to come once a week, but he didn’t like the idea of a stranger inside his home. Especially not now that the supernatural world was known. There were too many people who would have targeted him and his wife if they had the chance. Laughing, he said “No, you’ve got me there. Besides, if I did, I would heal right away.” But if anything did happen to his brother-in-law while in their home, Phoebe might never forgive Gabriel. He knew how much family meant to her.

“Beer sounds good,” he was quick to add, his head moving in a sharp nod. Normally, Paul wasn’t that bad at striking conversations with other people, however, it seemed hard for him to find something they could talk about, and the problem went beyond the mere fact that the man was sleeping with his little sister. There could be some kind of protocol. Or a guide that went along the lines of: what to talk about with your supernatural brother-in-law. The idiocy of that idea put a smile upon his face. It was something funny to just consider it. “Does he sleep all through the night already?” he found himself wondering. Do you? A part at the back of his brain wanted to ask. Curiosity, of course, yet, he said no word about it. Making his way around, one corner of his mouth tilted upward. “Must have its perks,” he found himself admitting. Actually, he could think about it having many perks. Stuffing his hands deep inside the pockets of his dark jeans, Paul moved his weight through his feet and swayed back and forth a little. “So… Are you into sports?” he attempted to find something they could really engage in talking about.

[peacefullyviclent-blog]

supernaturalxlovers‌:

“Do you want a drink?” Eponine offered with a smile. “Its the least I can do.” She and Paul were good friends, but she still thought she should show her gratitude for his help. “I can only imagine how confusing this whole thing must be for someone who wasn’t born into it” she said sympathetically. She’d been lucky enough to be born with knowledge of the supernatural, not thrust into it. “I would say it gets easier, but I honestly have no idea if it does.” But for her friend’s sake, she hoped it did. Then she chuckled. “No, I guess not. But that just makes you even more amazing for agreeing to help.” Shaking her head, she said “Nobody should have to live out of boxes. Although having three kids does make it stressful.”

“Have I ever passed on one?” Paul retorted in a playful tone. He was someone who enjoyed engaging in some casual drinking. Especially with an old friend. It often ensued some laughs would also be involved, and he could certainly use the distraction. “It’s a head trip,” the man admitted while nodding. “Suddenly, it’s as if your whole world just flips and everything you thought you knew was wrong,” he attempted to explain. “Or, as if some whole other dimension kinda swallows you whole,” his shoulders traveled with a shrug. Glancing around at the scattered boxes, his eyes moved back to the woman. “Come on,” Paul stopped her. “You know there’s no need for that. So, where should we start?” he wondered. “And, if your kids are anything like I was when I was a child, you’d find them living in those boxes after, I wanna say two days. Tops.”

[peacefullyviclent-blog]

supernaturalxlovers‌:

Hilda raised her eyebrows. “I think you are being a bit over-dramatic, don’t you?” she teased the younger woman. Of course, she knew there had been a time in Brida’s life where slaughtering a village was possible. Hilda had been the same when she first turned, but age had taught her to control her temper. Shaking her head, she said “Well, we can’t have that. What distresses you darling?” She thought the redhead tended towards exaggerating sometimes, but she wasn’t going to brush aside her friend’s problems. “I’ll get us something to drink and you can tell me all about it.” She walked towards the minibar that was in the room and grabbed two glasses.

The prospect of drinking and venting to one of her oldest friends cheered the redhead up a little bit and she raised her head, a smile playing on her plump lips. “According to you, I have a tendency of exaggerating things every now and then. Isn’t that what you’ve told me?” She asked with some humor, just to prove that she listened to the woman. “As for what distresses me,” she began, a heavy sigh departing her lips. “I saw mein schwester the other evening,” she spoke, a frown settling in her features. Hilda was aware what how hard it was for Brida whenever that sort of confrontation happened, hearing the clinking of glasses and watching as Hilda poured them drinks.

[peacefullyviclent-blog]

supernaturalxlovers‌:

Once upon a time, Renata had loved her little sister. That had changed when she’d been forced into marriage. After that, she’d come to see Brida as the favorite child. Which is why she had gotten her revenge on her parents by turning the sister she’d once loved into a monster like her. “Oh please” said Renata with a scoff. “If there’s one thing I know how to do, its have a good time.” Renata was many things, but boring was not one of them. “I’m impressed you’re even able to see me from that ivory tower you’ve been living in.” As Brida chased off the woman Renata had been planning to dry, the older woman snarled. “So is your master plan to try and starve me to death now?” she asked in annoyance. Then she shrugged. “However long its been, it wasn’t long enough.” Whenever they ran into each other, Renata was quick to leave the country. She didn’t need reminders of her former life. “I have a daylight ring now” she said, waving her hand to show her sister.

After it all happened, Brida wondered where the two of them had gone wrong. What could she have possibly done to upset Renata the way she did, and as she had the chance to live the span of what have been several lifetimes, Brida arrived to one conclusion: everything she had thought they had was nothing but a cruel lie. “Well, if that’s what you have to tell yourself,” she announced, her shoulders traveling with a shrug. When Renata turned her, she robbed Brida of the things she wanted most in life, and centuries had done absolutely nothing in terms of forgiving and forgetting what had transpired. A wry chuckle came from the younger one’s lips. “What can I say? Sometimes I like to mingle,” she mentioned, her head canting to a side. In all fairness, Brida had always been someone who loved people. Who adored the attention, so, whenever she had the chance, she liked to get to know new folks. “You’re such a barbarian, sister,” she tutted. “It’s like you’ll never learn,” she shook her head. Feigning hurt, she splayed a hand over her chest. “You wound me, sister,” her words were followed by more shakes of her head, and there was more she could have said on the matter until the mention of a daylight ring. Brida’s lips pursed into a tight line. “Should I wonder who you killed to make it happen?” 

[peacefullyviclent-blog]

supernaturalxlovers‌:

Gabriel shut the door behind Paul. “Do you want something to drink?” he asked. Then he shook his head. “Wes is actually taking a nap. Although who knows how long that will last” he said. Wes was taking fewer naps during the day now that he was sleeping through the night. “Sorry that it looks a bit like a tornado swept through here” he added. Their house wasn’t really messy, but with Phoebe in pastry school, that left only Gabriel to take care of the house during the day. And most of that time was spent cleaning up whatever mess his son had made most recently. “Try not to trip over any of the toys. Phoebe would never forgive me if you broke your neck falling over blocks.”

“That might actually depend. What do you have?” He wondered. Truthfully, Paul had no idea what his brother-in-law might have to offer in that department, but, for the sake of Phoebe, he was willing to give the man some credit when it came to most things. “Ah, too bad,” the man muttered, standing awkwardly over there. It would have been more than just an understatement to say that the two of them had had many chances to talk and get to know one another, so, while his sister was away, Wes would have helped break the ice. “It’s cool. You don’t have to worry about that,” he added, a flick of a hand as he dismissed it. He would never frown upon a little mess. Paul was far from being the most organized person out there, and it had taken a long time for him to put his own house in order. And he lived alone. “I don’t know. I mean…  It’s probably different for you, you might not have to worry about that kind of thing, tripping over a mere toy,” he stated, trying to give the situation a little humor as he attempted to talk about their reflexes.

[supernaturalxlovers-blog]

@peacefullyviclent / starter for Paul

“Thanks for agreeing to come over and help me unpack” said Eponine. “I think the council often forgets that not all of us have the strength and endurance of vampire and werewolves.” While she’d done her share of work with the council, she certainly didn’t agree with everything they did. And that definitely didn’t include their decision to relocate her and her children to New Orleans. “The movers have gotten everything inside. But I haven’t really had the chance to open most of the boxes.” That was, at least in part, thanks to her children. While she’d tried to make a game out of it with them, there was only so long the twins could focus on unpacking before they got distracted.

[peacefullyviclent-blog]

Being someone who was, essentially, new to town himself, Paul knew exactly where Eponine was coming from. He was still getting acquainted with the city, and he would never pass on the opportunity of meeting with a familiar face. “It’s really my pleasure,” Paul nodded, a smile going through his lips. “And thank you for thinking of me. I mean, this is all still very new to me,” he mused on the matter. “But, well, I can’t say I have their strength either,” his shoulders moved with a shrug. “But, I’m here. And I’m willing to help out. Just tell me where to start,” he stated, rubbing his palms together. “I lived out of boxes for a month or so, so I understand. But, it’s easier for me. I’m on my own. I don’t have kids to worry about,” Paul justified. 

[supernaturalxlovers-blog]

@peacefullyviclent / starter for Brida

Renata was on the hunt. Although she knew killing humans was now against the rules, that didn’t mean she was going to give up her old habit of feeding on the living. Besides, bagged blood tasted awful. It even smelled awful, like it was no longer fresh. After a few minutes of walking down the busy streets in the French Quarter, she spotted an attractive young woman who appeared to be alone. The vampire walked up to the human. “Don’t scream” she ordered the woman. “Follow me down without making any noise.” She led the human down a nearby alleyway. Just as she was about to sink her fangs into the woman’s neck, she smelled another vampire. Glancing up, she said “This is a private party.” Then she realized who the other vampire was. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she said “Brida. Way to show up just in time to ruin my fun.”

[peacefullyviclent-blog]

There was once upon a time when Brida would have followed Renata anywhere. As the youngest of the two of them, Brida had the chance to grow up watching as Renata became a force to be reckoned with and Brida wished to be the same. But, their paths led them down different ways the day her sister decided to unleash her angst and frustration on her, ruining all of her plans. “Perhaps it’s a family trait after all,” Bri stated, offering her sister a fake smile. “Or maybe it’s something I’ve gotten while watching you. After all, you’ve always been quite the expert in destroying other people’s lives. I suppose you could be flattered, for I could say I’ve learned from the master,” Brida’s shoulders traveled up and down with a shrug before she turned to the woman Renata had brought, who seemed to be watching that family reunion with quite a bit of curiosity. “Leave. Don’t look back,” she instructed before her eyes moved to inspect crimson manicured nails. “What has it been? A century since our paths last crossed?” She guessed.