GHOST LIGHT

Rohan Persaud - 34 - Witch

[rohanxpersaudx]

Rohan Persaud - 34 - Witch

G H O S T  L I G H T

“I have heard myself say that a house with a death in it can never again be bought or sold by the living. It can only be borrowed from the ghosts that have stayed behind.”

Below the cut is some quick background on Rohan. His full biography goes into a little more detail, but please feel free to hit me up any time with ideas or plots!

TW: Death; Murder; Terminal Illness 

I. Basics

Name: Rohan Persaud Gender/Pro-Nouns: Cisgender Male (He/Him/His) Birthday & Age: March 4, 1988 (34) Place of Birth: Castine, Maine, USA Species: Witch Special Abilities: Spirit Raising; Air Manipulation; Familiar Manifestation; Catoptromancy Current residence: Downtown Lunar Cove Occupation: Playwright & Artistic Director Faceclaim: Raymond Ablack Sexuality: Homosexual

II. Stats

Height: 6′0″ Eyes: Brown Hair: Black MBTI: INFP Alignment: Chaotic Good Affiliations: Coven Member

III. Background

Rohan was raised in a gargantuan seashore house in a small Maine town. His adoptive parents, an older couple with successful professional careers under their belts, had converted the place into a successful inn, known for its antiques, its charm, and the ghost of a bride who walked its halls.

At a young age, Rohan became involved as a child actor at a local semi-professional, semi-community playhouse, where he appeared in A Christmas Carol, Oliver!, Oklahoma!, and The Innocents, the plot of which he found especially funny.

In middle school, he encountered a plump black and white stray cat, which he eventually named Bustopher. This animal, his familiar unknowingly manifested by his latent abilities, ingratiated its way into Rohan’s life and revealed to him his magical origins.

Still, with only a surface-level understanding of his species and skills, Rohan remained largely nullified, beyond his ability to talk with Bustopher and rally the wind by accident from time to time.

He went to New York City for college, studying theatre and eventually specializing in playwriting. There, he discovered his powerful proficiency for conjuring and communicating with the dead. His play Indignant Desert Birds was willingly inspired by a story dictated to him by a murdered man.

The two-act drama won a prestigious grant award and a production in the city. Another “spirit play” came soon after and then another, the third, which landed on Broadway and enjoyed several Tony nominations (including one win for a supporting actor). Rohan’s place was thus secured as a fresh face in the American theatre, produced regionally throughout the country.

A matter of chance, however, brought him into contact with a particular banshee as he was working on a new piece dedicated to a spirit whose death she had foretold. Through her, then, Rohan found his way to Lunar Cove.

A temporary visit became more and more permanent, and after a few weeks, Rohan properly settled down and joined the coven. His powers grew, new abilities revealing themselves and old ones becoming more dependable and less erratic. 

His knack for catoptromancy came now, discovered through his established habit of scrying, wherein he would use mirrors as a tool to view spirits which wished not to be looked at directly. 

Redirecting his career, Rohan moved into the role of Artistic Director for the Pendulum Playhouse, where he produces mainstage work, sometimes his own, and runs a successful theatre camp. 

Rohan himself views the dramatic artform as something of a service he can provide: a tool to help confused spirits remember the moments leading to their deaths, a tool to create happier endings for those who want them, and a tool to achieve monumental immortality, a life played out on stage forever.

To that end, he gives spirits that want them pseudonym credits in playbills and even sends anonymous portions of monetary royalties to families or loved ones when asked to. The foreword of all his published plays dictate that the story has been dictated to him by the protagonist and only his creative revisions and additions are his own. Most audiences read this is a cheeky joke.

IV: The Plays

Rohan has six full-length published plays to his name and is working on his seventh. They are listed below, in order of premiere, and may be familiar to theatregoers.

Indignant Desert Birds: A man in hospice wins a sizable prize from a scratch-off lottery ticket gifted to him by a nurse on his final birthday. His loved ones begin to circle like vultures and raise questions of mortality, family, and mercy.

Strephon: A Tragedy: A married woman begins an eight-week affair with a much younger man, an employee at an annual autumn festival. This play was applauded for its unique scenic design, the labyrinthine center of a corn maze that grows thinner and more rotten as the winter approaches, mirroring the characters’ own spiral into disarray.

This House with Many Stairs: Rohan’s most personal and lauded play, winner of a Tony Award, it was penned in the wake of his adoptive mother’s death and details the interwoven stories of the people who have made lives in an old seaside home: the bride for whom it was built; an immigrant couple; and their adult son, who must cope with its empty halls once the others have gone.

Captains: A couple and their teenage son, a star high school athlete, welcome the boy’s grandmother into their home as her age advances. As her memories of the distant past grow more vivid than those of recent events, a dire new meaning is given to the portrait of the deceased family patriarch, a military Captain for whom his grandson was named.

Uses of a New Metal: Taking place over a single Monday morning, this play reveals the cracks among four co-workers who inhabit a solitary row of cubicles after an intern does not return to work after the weekend with no explanation.

Mixed Media: An uncharacteristically dark and at times, cruel drama, even for an author who deals exclusively in death, this story tells of a gallery owner who fishes a deceased artist’s paintings from an incinerator, where he had intended to destroy them. As his posthumous renown grows, so does his influence from the beyond, until painting and reality can no longer be distinguished from each other. Currently being performed in Connecticut to much praise, with early Broadway buzz. 

V: Possible Connections

Rohan is open to any and all plots and connections, but below are some potential ideas to kick off brainstorming.

The Neighbor: Rohan lives downtown. He knows this person from the neighborhood and may or may not get along with them.

The Fellow Artist: Rohan loves to create, and he’s always more than willing to come together to try to collaborate with people who spark his interest. Maybe this person is involved at the Playhouse. 

The Sitter: Rohan dabbles in various forms of divination. Do you need your Tarot cards read? He’s happy to help and is very good at easing you to accept your imminent downfall with grace when The Tower pops up. 

The Mourner: Rohan can conjure up the spirits of the dead. This person finds out and would love to know or pass on a message.

The Knowledge Holder: Rohan knows very little of his birth parents, who were witches that could not raise him on their own, for whatever reason. This person either knows something or is interested in helping him solve their mystery.

The Haunted: Rohan is here to have a polite conversation and wag his finger at whatever undead specters may be bothering you. 

[jonahxrivas]

Jonah huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head, "Wow. The cards work fast," he teased. His expression softened at the touch, "Well, you make it pretty easy ,” he said quietly, a simple undeniable truth. He looked down at the cards, listening as Rohan explained. "An open reading sounds nice," he admitted. "That's probably better than trying to force a question. I don't even think I have an intention? Sorry, that sounds bad."

Past. Present. Future. His gaze lingered on the deck as his thoughts drifted. So much had happened recently that trying to divide his life into categories felt almost impossible. The past bled into the present, and the present seemed determined to spill into whatever came next. A few years ago, he would have said his life was relatively straightforward. He studied the ocean, spent time with the people he cared about, and worried about things that made sense to worry about. Now it felt like every week brought another revelation, another mystery, another reminder that the world was much stranger than he'd ever given it credit for. Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he cut the deck as instructed and picked three random ones. "Alright. Let's see what they have to say."

[rohanxpersaudx]

Rohan smiled, meeting Jonah's eye. "They must like you. Careful, though. They're also rather incapable of being buttered up." He hummed softly. "Don't go Cole Porter on me. It'll make me melt," Rohan teased. He broke into an easy laugh at that. "I think maybe you have intentions you don't know about, hm? It's okay. I appreciate you humoring me. You humoring me is how we ended up on that first date. Can you believe we have an anniversary coming up?" Rohan wrinkled up his nose with genuine, simple mirth.

For a moment, however, he studied him with softer gravity, searching Jonah's expression for any glimmer, any revelation. As much stock as some part of him placed in these cards, he knew they also offered no solid promises, no fixes for all the things that hung heavy over this town. But there was light too, Rohan knew. There was love. Extending a hand, he flipped the first card. "The past. The Five of Swords." Rohan swallowed. "Victory, but at what cost? Conflict that leaves everyone a little worse off. Someone plays dirty, and we're left picking up the shrapnel. A reminder...to choose our battles with care." He shifted a bit in place. "For what it's worth, my love...we've survived. Bruised. But here."

[earthwindandraen]

"Well, that means you know what you're doin'," Rae said, smiling back. Her smile turned a little lopsided. "Can't they, though? Don't worry. I'm real safe when I fool around. Don't really need a spirit board or nothin', though I guess it adds to the experience, huh?" All she really needed was to siphon a bit of magic and look through the veil, call to someone, make sure she said goodbye. It was just good manners.

There was no intention in Rae Elle's actions as she cut the deck, shuffling the cards before handing them back to Rohan. "Past, present, future. Where you've been, where you're at, where you're goin'. You can lay out my whole thread of fate if you're feelin' like it," she joked.

[rohanxpersaudx]

Rohan laughed. "Ah, you know...it doesn't. My history with magic is a continuous reminder that some of us have no idea what we're doing. Not really." Rohan said this lightly, flashing a smile that revealed, at least, acceptance if nothing else of his series of pitfalls and cautionary tales. "There's something about a burning candle and a flickering light, though, don't you find? I think that since the dawn of ourselves, we've been able to pull magic through all its conduits." He hummed. "It's all ritual, don't you find?"

Taking the cards back into his hands, Rohan placed them neatly on the table before dealing three face down. A hand hovered over the first. "Where you've been." He flipped it. "The Eight of Pentacles. Dedication. Focus. Motivation. Trying. Grinding. Honing skills. It's a card of...apprenticeship. The craftsman at his perch." He placed a finger on the image. "It promises fruits for your efforts."

[cantfightmoonlight]

"We both know that they're just a deck of painted paper, right?" Kiraz whispered, keeping her voice low in case she was about to break the news to the wolf before her that Santa was in fact not real. "You do? Who?" She blinked once more, wondering who this man was hanging out with to know several horse people. "You can just give me the generic life reading or whatever, but... I'm sorry the cards can tell you about the polo club? Those flimsy pieces of paper can do all that? And why would we be rubbing elbows with anyone? Because that doesn't sound pleasant. I don't want to do that. I'd like my elbows to remain untouched for mine and everyone else's foreseeable future if I could help it."

[rohanxpersaudx]

"Painted paper that holds power? Wait until you find out about money." Rohan flashed a joking smile. "I mean, divination is real, you know. This is a less literal version right now; the cards are tools. But...we do have an annual scary town prophecy." He rolled his shoulders. "Lots of people. I run a nonprofit theater, and philanthropists with an interest in the arts also tend to own horses. That's not terribly surprising, is it?" He offered a low hum. "We'll do a three-card spread. Would you like to cut the deck? The cards can answer all kinds of questions. They really just...shine a light. You might be surprised what you see illuminated. But...uh, I'm not going to flip over a Polo Bear card or anything like that, no. Less literal." He smiled. "It's a figure of speech. That's all. Werewolves. In touch with all our joints. That's all."

[illputabexonyou]

Bex nodded. "I've heard that." She finally let go of the doorknob and stepped outside of her room, tentative but rigid. It was as if she were bracing for something bad to happen as soon as she left the safety of her room, but nothing did, and she let out the breath she was holding. The breath she didn't need. "Maybe." She nodded. "Grease 2 is definitely the better movie, though." She maybe even cracked a small smile.

Bex was sure most found it strange, but she'd always liked older movies more than modern ones. All About Eve was a classic, and one of her favorites. It made too much sense that Rohan liked it, too. "They say what we watch in our younger years really informs who we become as adults. So, that makes sense for you." Her eyes flitted towards the stair case. She stayed planted in her spot for a moment longer. "Okay," she relented, "but only because you guys are really cute." And because Bex was weak, too. She moved another few steps towards the stairs, hands wringing together.

"You'll--" she started, stopped. Turned to look at Rohan again, nervous. "You'll stop me, right? If I-- If I try to hurt..."

[rohanxpersaudx]

Rohan smiled as Bex stepped into the corridor, although the tenseness in her stance did not escape his notice. He lingered gently, not intruding on her space but refusing, still, to retreat. "Do you know Peter Frechette...that's DiMucci...he does regional work fairly often? I'd seen him a few times onstage before Lunar Cove. Maybe I should write a vehicle for him." He shrugged his shoulders, half-joking. "The Pendulum needs a few more celebrity photos anyway. The autographed one of Florence Henderson went missing the last time...well, during the renovations." The events leading up to those renovations were ones on which he preferred not to linger.

"Wow. What's that supposed to mean? Am I a fading grand dame or a cutthroat wannabe?" He playfully rolled his eyes at her. Rohan jostled her shoulder with affection. "Maybe we can pick an aquatic movie to swap in. He'd like that. What's a good fish movie?" He hummed.

Pausing, Rohan nodded definitively. "Of course. That's not going to happen, okay? Do you want to...It's not blood, but I'm a magic battery, right? Will that help?"

[cantfightmoonlight]

"Uh-" The newly turned werewolf blinked over at the man as she pulled the oversized top over her head, thankful for the donation buckets littered around town filled with clothes, even if the donations were frankly questionable to say the least. "I was just, uh, using the donation bin, but sure, I'll bite," She offered up. Her attention was captured by the werewolf on the picnic blanket who was dealing out tarot cards. "Though, before you do your whole divination thing, I've gotta ask," She paused to blink down at the t-shirt she was currently wearing as a dress and then back up at him as she motioned to the writing across the shirt and asked, "Since when do we have a polo team?"

[rohanxpersaudx]

Rohan allowed his brow to shoot up. He offered a smile. "There's no rush or anything. I suppose I should say...the cards choose the moment when it is right. Or choose the moment as it comes. But that would be showmanship. Which...now that I think of it, is sort of an element of this whole thing." He offered a weak shrug of his shoulders. Taking in the shirt, however, Rohan cocked his head to one side. "You know...I know several people who frequent the Equestrian Center. Perhaps they started one there. The high school may have a water polo team. Or maybe it's...a Ralph Lauren fan club of some kind. Sometimes the Cathedral carries Purple Label. Did you want to ask the cards about the polo club? Or maybe whose elbows we should be rubbing around here?"

[illputabexonyou]

Bex eyed him, not scrutinizing, but enough to let him know she knew he was listening in. There wasn't much to hear on her end, just the shuffle of furniture or books, knickknacks being rearranged. "I've never seen that before," she admitted, then, pulling the door open a little wider. She knew of the movie, what self-respecting lesbian didn't? Well, that was stretch for her, but of course she knew what it was about. She'd just never gotten around to watching it.

She frowned. What was there to talk about? She'd died, she'd come back. It was the most painful experience of her entire life, both physically and mentally. And that was saying a lot, considering everything else in her pathetic life. "NOVA was fun to watch," she said, finally slipping out of her room. She left the door open. "But I do think we should build a fort. 'No fish nerds allowed'."

[rohanxpersaudx]

Rohan smiled softly.. "It's...well, you know, a cult classic. At least a more digestible one than some of the really deep cuts." He seemed to perk up a bit when Bex opened the door even just a little. "In any case, now is a good a time as any to watch it, I say. Maybe you could even humor me with a little Grease 2 if we want a double feature. It is the superior Grease, after all." He was not sure the films were perfect thematic matches, but they shared suitable degrees of nonsense.

"You would say that. But it's okay. I understand. I probably shouldn't have been watching All About Eve at that age anyway," Rohan teased gently. He flashed a grin. "You're on. But if he looks really sad about it, I reserve the right to change my mind, okay? I'm weak." He cocked his head down the hall toward the staircase.

[earthwindandraen]

Rae had been fascinated in tarot long before she could actually use magic to read the cards. A childhood filled with walking through Jackson Square and seeing all the various card and palm readers, most of whom lacked the connection that she had with the magicks of the earth, had always been drawn her attention. She didn't think she could help it.

Offering Rohan a smile, she took a seat. "I don't see why a werewolf can't read the cards just as well as the next person, especially if you already know your major and minor arcana," Rae Elle said. "I don't have a real query, but would you mind a three-card spread?"

[rohanxpersaudx]

"Well...as it were, some werewolves were once dark witches. And I suppose that does help in a way." Rohan said this with a smile, and while the topic had once been one which rattled him to his very core, he had, by now, settled into acceptance. "I know what you mean, though. I daresay even human can tap into things they don't quite understand from time to time. Stay away from Ouija Boards."

"Sometimes the cards reveal both query and response. And three cards sounds just right to me. Would you care to cut the deck?" He extended a hand to gesture across the table before them.

[jonahxrivas]

With a finger pressed theatrically to his lips, Jonah slid into the seat opposite Rohan. "Shhh," he whispered, leaning in slightly. "Pretend I'm a mysterious stranger. I don't want the cards catching a vibe and skewing the results." The grin tugging at his mouth made it clear he knew exactly how ridiculous that sounded.

The moment he spotted Rohan setting up tarot on the green, Jonah had wrapped up his conversation with a coworker with a quick clap to the shoulder and an absent catch you later before making a beeline over. There was something about seeing Rohan settled in the sunlight that drew him in without much effort. Besides, this sort of silliness, he felt was needed at the moment. He also slid a small paper bag across the table toward him, faint scent of fresh pastry drifting out from it. "Also, pretend I didn't buy that specifically because I know what you like. I have a reputation of mystery to maintain."

"There's magic in mundane things," he continued, "And in werewolves. You can't convince me otherwise." Coffee cup in hand, Jonah took a sip before glancing down at the spread of cards with open curiosity. "Query?" he repeated thoughtfully. "I don't know if I really have a question exactly. Or maybe I have too many and none of them make enough sense to ask out loud yet." His eyes lifted back to Rohan then, softer around the edges. "You're the expert here. What am I supposed to do? Think of something specific? Or do the cards just... decide what you need to hear?"

[rohanxpersaudx]

When his husband sat down across from him, Rohan allowed his face to rather instantly light up in a way only Jonah could cause. He leaned in theatrically, dropping his voice down low. "Oh, hello, mysterious stranger. Welcome." He brought up a hand to his temple as if receiving a message from the beyond. "I see a vision of...a handsome dark-haired man in your life. This person must care about you very, very much. Did I mentioned he's also very, very handsome?" He settled back into his seat with a smile.

Shaking his head at himself, Rohan laughed as he took the offered bag; he tucked it discreetly beside himself on the bench. "I can't pretend that. It makes my heart far too full to be so seen and so loved." He took Jonah's hand into his own and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You are very mysterious, though. Truly. Thank you."

Rohan nodded along as the other continued. "I quite agree. And I suppose I am still technically magic in my way. At least as far as vampires are concerned." Cocking his head down at the cards, Rohan rolled his shoulders. "It doesn't have to be a literal question. It can be just...a sort of intention. Or we can do a general open reading. Sometimes the query is revealed along with the answer." He hummed, looking up to meet Jonah's eyes. "We'll do a simple three-card spread, okay? Past. Present. Future. Cut the deck. Deal three." He waved his hand across the table with a flourish before gesturing at the stack of cards.

[rohanxpersaudx]

Open starter @lunarcovestarters Location: A picnic table

In some ways, a black cloud still lay over Lunar Cove, a creeping, writhing darkness that revealed itself in the frayed expressions on his neighbors' faces and in the heavy stench of turmoil, still clinging to the air. But nature did not deign notice the troubles of the insignificant creatures flitting about the planet's face. Time moved on.

Spring had planted strong roots by then, warm weather, blue skies, and the chirping of insects, sounds where everywhere else rested silent. Rohan sat now at a table on the green, spreading out a few cards from the tarot deck he'd own even before coming to this town. He looked up when a shadow fell across him. "Hm? Oh, hello. I'm afraid I can't really...it's not literal magic anymore. But humans have used these for divination as much as dark witches. Why not werewolves? Do you have a query?" He gestured at the seat across from him.

[illputabexonyou]

Maybe she was acting like a petulant child, but Bex had never gotten to be one, so could she really be blamed? And dying really did seem like a good time to finally exercise the right to act that way, broody and upset and annoyed. Not that she felt any of that towards Rohan, of course, and her entire body seemed to relax at the softness of her words. Sometimes, she still expected anger and yelling. Vitriol aimed her way just for existing. Her body braced for it without her permission. But it never ended up that way. The people in her life were continually kind and caring and gentle with her, even if she was acting like a brat. It still made her tear up sometimes.

She moved to scrub them from her face. She knew Rohan was doing his best and right now he was really the only person she wanted to be around. Sliding off the bed, she padded over to her door and opened it slowly, looking out at Rohan. "What movie?"

[rohanxpersaudx]

Straightening himself up, as though making a genuine effort to look like he had been eavesdropping decidedly less than he had actually been eavesdropping, Rohan offered a smile. "Uh...I don't know. Any requests? Maybe But I'm a Cheerleader. I know. I know. It's a cliché, but...it's pink. And bright. And I don't know if I have Citizen Kane in me right now." He gave a weak shrug of his shoulders.

Meeting her eye, then, Rohan bit his lip. "Do you...do you wanna talk about it? We don't have to. We can just watch the movie. It can be a whole sleepover or whatever. We can build a fort and tell Jonah he's not allowed inside. Or I can try to get him to dress up like Eddie Cibrian. I love him, but I have the sense when I was cultivating taste as a teenager, he was watching NOVA."

[illputabexonyou]

with: @rohanxpersaudx where: Rojo's house (a few days after she woke up)

Whatever pain had followed Bex into the aftermath of waking up didn't linger in her bones like a long day or an old wound, but like a stench in the room she couldn't get rid of. The kind that didn't dissipate even with the strongest incense or the most obscene amount of Febreeze sprayed. It was a stench in her mind that hung inside her brain like radio static late at night or buzzing of a limb that's fallen asleep and is fighting to wake back up. It permeated every thought and trailed behind her like a shadow that's forgotten it can only be seen in the light.

She tried to swat it away, to forget about it, but it stays, it sticks, it stains. Not in feeling, but in memory. It's daunting how much she remembers, from the first gasp of breath back into her dead lungs to the very moment she finds herself in here, laying flat on her bed and staring up at the pocked ceiling like it might have an answer. She wants to waste away like a kid in the summertime, passed out on their bed inside, the only escape to the sweltering, oppressive heat and humidity of the air.

It's fucking depressing and she knows it.

She can't really help it. Waking back up had been the second worst thing to ever happen to her. Dying, the first.

And she'd cried so fucking much the past few days, too. Several times a day. Even more at night. The tears came even if she tried to hold them back. They came if while she showered under scalding hot water that didn't do anything, or while she was staring into a mug of thick, sluggish blood, or while she was unpacking her closet and rearranging the clothes inside, only to tear them all back out and do it again.

They came when she was just sitting doing nothing or when she was trying to do anything to convince herself this didn't have to be the terrible thing it felt like it was.

This was supposed to be a second chance or something. A gift. An unbeating heart and sounds that she couldn't get out of her head and sharp teeth that felt wrong in her mouth.

It didn't feel fair. The betrayal still sat so fresh and sour in her mouth, acrid like bile on her tongue. Her friend had done this to her. A fresh wave of tears overcame her.

When there was a knock on her bedroom door, she just sniffled and grunted, "Go away."

[rohanxpersaudx]

"I'm just checking if you needed anything, honey." Standing in the darkened hallway, Rohan had pressed himself up against the bedroom door to give a gentle rap with his fist. These past few days, he felt, in truth, like a phantom, darting about out of sight but never too far away, close enough to be a known but unobtrusive presence. Bex needed space; he was doing his best to respect that need.

He had, of course, needed it too after his bite. One required solitude as a foundation for reinvention, and reinvention was arduous. The loss of magic, the sort of thing a witch could knot around their very personhood, was a difficult reality, even when said magic was not always pristine. "I was thinking of maybe watching a movie if you wanted to come down for a bit? No pressure."

The house itself felt heavy, and Rohan found himself acutely aware of that fact. The sensation was not Bex's fault, but this haven against the darkness was proving not quite the citadel for which he had hoped. The troubles of Lunar Cove always left their mark, one way or another. "Jonah should be home soon. You can give us a yell if you need anything, okay?"

[kenxmatsui]

"Rohan, listen," Ken said, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, resting the urge to give him a shake. "You know me, yes? I say what I mean, and I mean what I say. And because you're my friend, I'll spare you the profanity, but do try to take this to heart, alright? Shut up." The smile he gave was unapologetic as anything but also took any real bite out of the words. "Why is that even a fear? It's ridiculous. You're not difficult." He went on, brushing the idea aside with a flick of his hand, "Different. I'm not one to hold you to some expectation that you visit when you have more pressing things on your mind. You would've done when time allowed, and look—" he gestured to him, "—here you are."

He let the tea steep a while before pouring it into two cups, sliding one across the counter toward Rohan. Lifting his own, Ken took a sip leaning against the counter as he considered the rest. "It is, yes. Death, despite its impermanence when it comes to our kind, is still not fun. Have you forgotten that we live in a cartoon town? At some point, you stop being shocked by the insanity of it all." He hadn't meant to sound so nonchalant, it was just a quiet acceptance. There were surprises of course, like the hellhound they witnessed, but even that dulled to be just another thing that might as well happen. "But good, glad you didn't get physically get hurt." He gave another nod, "Yes, I was. Marked for death doesn't really surprise me, but here I am, still alive. Though I seemed to be facing some side-effects which is rather annoying."

[rohanxpersaudx]

Rohan clicked his tongue at that, eyes rolling lightly upward. "Anyone who knows me intimately will tell you that I have never once shut up in my entire life, and I certainly don't intend to start now at this age." He pursed up his lips, the portrait of self-satisfied smugness, but he could not quite hold the expression. The smile which followed was apologetic. "I'm being difficult right now. You just happen to not see it, which is very kind." Rohan sighed. "Your wellbeing is certainly a pressing thing on my mind. You and Leyla. For what it's worth."

Rohan accepted the tea with thanks, then, holding it with both hands and a taking a small sip. "We do live in a cartoon town, don't we? Death doesn't scare me. Or it didn't use to. But I can't just ring up the next wandering spirit anymore. I'm just...I'm sorry for Bex. It's rough. It's a big adjustment, and...I mean, I've never been a vampire. But I didn't have to change my diet." He swallowed another sip of tea before meeting Kens' eye. "What sorts of side effects?"

[kenxmatsui]

"Tea is not for you. I don't care if you disagree." Ken was talking to Cat, and it was not a one-sided conversation. At least not to him. The mewing felt like a response and it sounded a lot like complaining. As he moved around the kitchen, Cat weaved through his legs, turning the simple act of walking into something that required actual concentration.. "How much more attention do you need? I've been home all week." Despite the exasperation, Ken did give in a bend to scratch the top of its head before it darted off to lounge somewhere having gotten what it wanted. "You've been spoilt."

The knock at the door came unexpectedly enough that he simply stood there for a moment, staring at it. He still wasn't used to to not hearing the smaller sounds, to no longer catching things. No matter how much he strained, things simply slipped past him now. With a sigh, he set down his cup and went to answer it, and almost immediately concern pulled on his features at the sight. "Hello. You're one the few that can drop by anytime, you know this, yes? Come in." Ken ushered in his friend and closed the door behind them. "It's okay, Rohan, there was no need to check on me, minus a few bruises that are taking their annoying time in healing, I'm rather fine." Which was not a lie at all. "I was going to drop by but wanted to give you some time after everything. How is she?" Ken had only heard in passing on what transpired, he had seen enough yet so much more continued to happen it seemed, he should not have been surprised. "They're alright, rattled, adjusting. Typical shit." He shrugged. "Sit, sit. I made tea, have some with me. How are you holding on?"

[rohanxpersaudx]

Rohan flashed a weak, pleading look. "I know. But I'm awfully polite, and I have an deep-seated fear that I'm too difficult or needy to be want-able." What was meant to be a joke had too firm an edge of truth to it, and Rohan gave a bit of a grimace at himself. He sighed and managed an appreciative nod of thanks as he made his way inside.

"Of course there's a need. You're my best friend. Why wouldn't I check on you, Ken? I think maybe you have the same problems I do." This came pointedly, with some teasing, as much as he could muster in his current state of dull exhaustion.

"It's...a big adjustment. But I guess species changes always are. I mean, I know from experience, you know?" Being a werewolf had gotten easier over time, of course, and there were elements of it now that Rohan knew he even liked. But getting there had not come without months of strain. "I hate that we live somewhere that's typical shit. Thank you. I will. Me? I'm...you know. Fine. I escaped the brunt of it. You didn't. You were one of the voted ones, yeah?"

[thxprophecy]

josie blinked at him for a moment, a little caught off guard before a small, curious smile tugged at her lips. “well, that’s one way to think of it,” she said lightly, her voice warm despite the breeze curling around them. she shifted her weight in the sand, glancing down at where the water lapped at his feet before looking back up at him again, studying him just a bit more closely now.

“i didn’t mean it quite that… poetic,” she admitted, a soft laugh slipping through. “or maybe i did... i don't know.” she hesitated, searching for the right words, eyes flicking briefly toward the lighthouse before returning to him. “d’you ever feel like this place is strange?” she asked, head tilting. “like it welcomed things in… and now it’s not so sure what to do with them anymore? or maybe i'm just being dramatic?”

[rohanxpersaudx]

Rohan smiled gently at that, an almost apologetic expression. "In my defense, I used to live in New York. When I moved there for college, I ran out to to buy all the Statue of Liberty and I-Heart-NY souvenirs I could find. Committed to memory." His parents were, of course, immigrants themselves, but he was not quite sure if the life he was living here was the one they would have imagined.

Rohan hummed, however, a soft sound that disappeared almost noiselessly amid the gentle rush of the surf. "Strange? You mean the witch and werewolf town, or...?" He laughed, looking back over his shoulder to where the lights of Lunar Cove lay. A hand came up to point. "Or do you mean the lighthouse itself? Hmm. When I used to have magic, I could...well, I could speak to the dead. I know a thing or two about welcoming things in and then having to figure out what to do with them. Stuff lingers. Even energy."

[thxprophecy]

open starter for josephine howlett ft. anyone , located at lunar cove beach just after nightfall. ( @lunarcovestarters )

the sand was cool beneath josephine’s bare feet, damp from the tide that had long since rolled back, leaving the shoreline glistening under the moonlight. she stood still at lunar cove’s edge, arms loosely folded, her gaze fixed on the lighthouse in the distance. its beam cutting slow, steady arcs through the dark like it was searching for something it could never quite find.

she tilted her head slightly, watching the light pass over the water again, and again, and again. “you ever get the feeling,” she murmured, more to the ocean than anyone else, “that it’s not warning ships away… it’s trying to call something else here?” her lips pressed into a faint, almost knowing smile, though her eyes didn’t leave the lighthouse.

[rohanxpersaudx]

Head hung low, his shoes and socks dangling from his hand, Rohan watched the water engulf his feet before rolling out and disappearing once more. It was cold. So this beach was not quite a summer paradise. But he loved it all the same. He had met his husband on this beach. He had gotten engaged on this beach. He had gotten married on this beach. And clinging to those memories, to those moments, was just about the only tool he had left at his disposal to ward off the mounting darkness that seemed to be engulfing Lunar Cove more and more each day. Even the lighthouse seemed to not be doing a very good job of it.

"Hm?" Rohan looked up at a voice, startled from his own thoughts. He cleared his throat. "How do you mean? Your tired, your poor, your huddled masses...?" At one time, this town had truly been a haven, a place where a young witch could live openly and without fear. Those days were a lifetime ago.

[rohanxpersaudx]

Closed starter for @kenxmatsui Location: Ken's Place

Rohan did not mean to show up completely unannounced, but he knew, in truth, that Ken would not actually mind that he had. In his own defense, his cellphone had been crushed amid the chaos of that night, and he had not quite yet managed to get his hands on a new one. Clearing his throat when the door opened, Rohan tried to smile. "Hi. Sorry. I'm not...My phone broke, and Bex has...a lot's been going on, so I'm sorry I didn't come check in sooner. Are you okay?"

This was a loaded question, he knew. Not one of them were okay. His own guilt had, in truth, been eating him alive, that he had not been able to protect anyone, that his vote for Ralph had led the guy to tearing out yet another throat. There was a sick gratitude to it all too, that at least Jonah was okay, that, despite new circumstances, Bex was still with them. He tried not to linger on the notions. "How's Leyla? How's Renzō?"