Myles Bishop; jonathan bailey
Simone Fang; gemma chan
Levi Sebastian Avery; jacob anderson
Show & Tell
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@stllcfthcnght
Myles Bishop; jonathan bailey
Simone Fang; gemma chan
Levi Sebastian Avery; jacob anderson
When the sun rises, the house is eerily quiet. Something seems to be missing, that usually causes more ruckus. The darkness seems to cling to the house and the surrounding area weirdly long, and when it finally fades fully and Westray’s residents awake, it becomes clear that some things that used to be there, are now gone. While no objects are missing from this house, sixteen year old Daphne is. Her room is a mess, as if someone has broken in, but again, nothing is missing, things were only destroyed. Her bed is empty and strangely untouched, the windows are wide open, but there are no signs of someone breaking in. It’s like she left voluntarily, leaving everything in the house behind in a strange state.
Written in someone’s blood, on the inside of the front door, is the following riddle:
“Name I mixed up, one letter and four, down the shaft for treasure or more. What am I?”
simone fang, welcome to the hide & seek! who are you playing with? well, wouldn’t you like to know. your character is missing one family member. they can choose to search for them, or they can get lost in their worry and don’t. (but who knows, maybe they’ll find their way back home on their own).
your character was sorted into search group number 2, alongside maia, abigail and aries.
please post this plot drop and your character’s reaction to it, which can be as short as one paragraph, or as long as you want.
you can make two choices for your character: are they searching for their lost family member? can they solve their riddle or not? please include these choices in your reaction response.
Simone thought her heart was going to fall right out of her chest. Empty bed, empty room. Open window. There was an echo in her ears and she felt her legs give out. “Daphne!” she cried, running towards the window. Nothing. She spun around quickly, trying to tune into her extra sensory abilities to find any sign of her, but her mind was anything but clear.
Gone.
She had gone upstairs to check on her. She called her name, telling her it was time for breakfast. But something had felt off the moment she stepped on the stairs. Simone waved it off as if it was the weather or something in the air. A quiet morning. They had done this many, many times. Oh, how wrong she was.
Looking around the room, Simone scrambled about, trying to find any sign that Daphne was still around… maybe hiding. But that was not like her. If anything, Daphne would stay put. On her bed, ignoring the world, like a typical teenager. She called her name again. Anything out of place was just a mess.
Gone.
“N-n-o… no… no…” Simone sobbed, grabbing at the bedsheets, anything that would make her connection to Daphne stronger. Nothing. She let go and fell against the floor, until her breathing leveled again. Her body was frozen. Shakily, the witch got up and ran back down the stairs, nearly losing her footing over steps she took every single day. She gasped, falling back against the wall as she looked at the message on the door.
“T-treasure?” she exhaled, brow furrowing, her ears ringing and the words running through her mind again and again. There had to be an answer somewhere. She could do this. She need to do this. She needed to find Daphne. “Was it?” she whispered to herself. There was only one place she knew where to start. She grabbed her bag before racing out of the house.
JACOB ANDERSON as Louis de Pointe du Lac Interview with the Vampire “...After the Phantoms of Your Former Self”
Lino suppresses a groan when her hand hits his shoulder, the cut oozing blood. "I'm not encouraging her. She's a wolf. You don't even want to know how I was when I was younger. What I did. Maybe I didn't stab my dad, but we sure had a few rough fights down in the forest." The surgeon inside of him wants to properly clean the wound, but he's too angry to focus, and so he just pours some disinfectant and puts pressure on it, knowing the bleeding would stop soon, given the size of the surface.
"But you love me." Emiliano looks up at her from where he's sitting on the bed, his unoccupied arm wrapping around her waist to draw her closer. He presses his face into her stomach and sighs, deeply. "Sorry. I know I should like, help her with anger management or whatever, but you know, she reasonably hates me. Maybe fighting out will help her get over it, at least partially. Maybe it will help her regain some footing in our relationship. Okay, hermosa?" He lifts his head, looking up at her, "I'll find out where she got the knife. I'll take her for a day in the forest, fighting or not. I'll make sure neither of us die, alright?"
There's silence, then he adds, "I love you, okay?"
Simone gave him a look, raising her eyebrow. Daphne had going through a lot just being a teenager. So it didn't help that there was more behind that whirlwind of emotions. She was too protective of her daughter. She watched him as he started to clean the wound before getting up and grabbing another wet towel to hand to him. Her expression softened, a slight shiver over her skin at his words. No matter what hurt there was, she still cared deeply for him. Even if she'd give in to her own worst instincts.
She rested her hand on his shoulder gently. "Yes, but she's also like an extension of you," Simone spoke softly. "It's like fighting with yourself," she sighed deeply. "Let her learn to trust you again. She needs to see you on equal footing," she said, looking at him. While she wasn't sure how well that would help, it could be a start to helping her daughter with those anger issues. She didn't speak the rest of her thoughts. Did she trust him? That was yet to be foreseen. But she wanted to. That would make things much much easier. "You better not or I'll have to go out there and do it myself," her threat was empty, but she had hexed him once or twice and meant it.
"I know you do," Simone whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his hair.
Starter for @stllcfthcnght Where: Mystic Moon shop With: Simone Fang
Walking into the Mystic Moon, Harlow was familiar with the place, having been a resident of Westray his whole life. It offered him things he needed when trying to catch up to others his own age, other witches. Sure, he was born with an activity ability, but everything else was neglected due to the circumstances he grew up under. Between going to intensive therapy and catching up on the schooling he missed so he could take the quick path to university. Staring at the items in the shop, Harlow felt the place was a lot more welcoming to him than most. Not because of the people, essentially, but they were, in his opinion, good people too.
They hadn't turned him away, yet, anyway. Seeing a familiar form, he perked up and hurriedly moved toward them, “Simone! Hey!” Harlow called out, only to trip over something black and furry as it scurried across one of the pathways of the shop. Landing directly on his face, Harlow twitched, lying on the floor, “I think I've been assassinated.” Pushing himself up then, he suddenly stood quickly, “I'm alright!” Adjusting his shoulders, he let out a breath, shaking his body out a little before continuing, “Simone- it's been a bit since you came to the museum. I think I've made a discovery.”
Simone heard the bell at the door and stepped out from behind the tall bookshelf to see who had arrived. Nyx had been wandering around and always getting into tiny spaces, disappearing for a little bit before she could find her. At the sound of a slight crash, she walked towards the door, seeing her familiar leap towards the nearest low shelf. "Oh my goodness, are you all right?" she asked, hurrying towards Harlow, bending down on her knees to help him up.
She nodded at him. "I know," she chuckled. "I've been a little busier here lately and haven't gotten much spare time," Simone said with a small smile, pushing her long hair behind her ear. "New discovery?" she asked, now intrigued. Simone put down the book she had been carrying with her and nodded at him. "Please, do tell me more," she smiled. "Oh, and sorry about Nyx, she can get a bit excited and feisty sometimes," she chuckled, looking around for the black cat. "But yes," she nodded quickly. "Please tell me what you've discovered."
Jonathan Bailey in conversation with Louis Theroux for GQ Heroes 2025
The usual demeanor Harlow put up was, at the moment, gone, as he didn't have anyone to perform in front of and had simply been doing work in his office. Scribbling on a few papers and quickly putting them to the side, neatly. A look of calculation and cold, meticulous intelligence on his face. However, when the door opened, he glanced over quickly, before putting on a smile as Myles appeared at the door. Resting his hands, his left over his right, he tapped the pen in his hand back on the piece of paper he was just about to write on, “Myles! Great. Bring them here.” Pulling back, he dropped the pen onto the papers he was about to write on and waved the other over in gentle politeness.
“Oh? That's lovely of you. I've been trapped in here for hours.” Reaching over he toyed with the empty cup on his desk, “Forgot to get a refuel-” Gesturing to the coaster on the desk, he moved the empty container away and put it into the trash to the side of his desk. Leaning back up in his chair, he reached out to grab a stress ball on his desk, tossing it between his hands, considering what Myles said last, “Hmm. Well, it is always a good pull. Of course, mythological artifacts are guaranteed to get the biggest attraction.”
Turning the ball gracefully, letting it roll over the back of his hand, then into his palm skillfully, he continued to think, “Seems that there's been a lead on Ragnar's Enchanted Shirt, here lately...I've been looking into it, and have a team on it. It might be a good display. What do you think?”
"You are welcome," Myles smiled back at him. He moved towards the desk, drinks in hand and file folder tucked under his arm. It was rare he'd find some time to break from the busy schedule, but with the floor being slow, he decided to take that extra time that he had. He sat himself down with a nod. "Might want to see the sun, people might think of you otherwise," he chuckled.
He nodded in agreement. "They ask a lot of questions. I've been doing a lot of research regarding... the supernatural background of the town. I know we have a lot of information on display already. But given more recent events, I had been wanting to cover that as well. I know that's a lot to ask and reorganize but we'll be taking on a few interns in a month, so maybe I do have some of my work cut out for me,"
He hummed. "People are interested, which is where we want to start," Myles said. "I think if we expanded that side and rearranged... nearly everything, we could make it work," he said, before taking his notebook out of his pocket and putting his reading glasses on and grabbing a pen to jot down some notes. "I also might need a second set of eyes on one of the reports I was working on. Just giving you a heads up."
"Alright, then we shall start from there." A gentle smile touched the woman's lips as she settled into her chair, her posture open and inviting. "Daphne, is it okay if I ask you a few questions? I want you to know, first and foremost, that this is a safe space. If at any point during our conversation you start to feel overwhelmed or angry, you are free to step out of this office. The room right next to us is just for you—a quiet, calm place where you can take a moment to breathe and gather yourself. I want you to feel secure here, and I promise you will not be judged. I am here to help you, not to harm you. Does that sound okay?"
Daphne gave a small, hesitant nod, her eyes fixed on the wall behind the woman's head. The counselor took her cue and continued, her voice soft and deliberate.
"Good. To begin, I want to talk about triggers. They're those specific things—be it a person, a place, or a situation—that can make anger surge up inside you. They are unique to everyone. So, my first question for you is this: what are your triggers? Can you describe a specific situation where you felt anger recently, and who, if anyone, was involved? We don't have to get into the details of what happened right now, but understanding the pattern is the first step toward managing it. And on that note, have you ever considered writing in a diary or a journal? It can be a very powerful tool. It's a private place where you can write down what happened, how you felt, and what led to that feeling. It's not about being a good writer, it's just about getting the thoughts out of your head and onto the page. Is that something you've ever tried?"
She leaned forward slightly, her expression patient, and waited for Daphne's response.
Simone nodded at Daphne. "I'm here for support. This is your time here to talk," she said. It had been a complicated time. But she knew that it was needed. There were things that couldn't be resolved at home, even with her own wealth of knowledge to try and work things out. They were doing their best, but she had decided that a slow change was better than no change at all. It was complicated, and she expected that things would not be resolved within one session.
The teenager thought about her answer. "No, I don't like to write things down," she answered honestly, avoiding eye contact from either woman. "Would I have to share it with anyone?" she asked, slowly looking up at Aurora. The idea of writing down feelings seemed like a lot of work.
"It'll be only yours to read," Simone said, before glancing over. She looked at her daughter again. "Unless you want to share with anyone," she offered a smile. "We're going to leave that completely up to you," she said. She knew the source of Daphne's rage, she was there, she was part of it. But she also had a better relationship with her daughter. There were just parts she couldn't help. And Simone felt more at a loss than anything else.
"The first time was less of a question, more of a warning." Edward muttered under his breath, knowing full well Sebastian could hear him clear as day no matter what tone he chose to speak in. Perhaps if things had gone differently at that gala, the two men wouldn't be having this conversation at this dingy little bar. In an ideal world though, Edward would have never had to have laid eyes on Seb at the party in the first place, because he wouldn't be there.
Unfortunately after almost all these years the one thing that Edward had learnt more than most, is that you cannot change the past. He had least hoped some of the mistakes of his past could be selectively culled if anything though, but clearly not.
The more the other man spoke, the more annoyed Eddy got. At almost all times he was verging on the edge of rage, and in this moment, his self control was truly being tested. "Fifty years is fuck all when you've lived as long as you or I have." He huffed almost. Taking a long swig of his drink. "I'm sure you can play, Poirot in any other shitty little town. I heard London's nice this time of year, or Paris, even." He hadn't, they were just the last places Edward would never visit again in his lifetime, and in his eyes, the best places for his little mistake to disappear to.
Sebastian watched him. "Well, I'm still here and you haven't changed much, so I don't know what I can tell you, Eddy," he shrugged. He could see the other vampire was getting a bit stressed out. "I guess this is what it is like when the maker is disappointed with his creation. Should I write to Mary Shelley or would you like to? Or I'm sure someone in town can perform a seance if you're feeling more personal," his lips turned up into a smile.
He nodded. "Mmm, been there to all those places, outlived a few friends and lovers, according to letters I've received," he said. "London's much too foggy, and Paris is hot this time of year," Sebastian took a sip of his drink. "Exactly what is it, why are you upset?" he asked.
He shifted in his seat, narrowing his eyes. "So, what is it? Are you angry? Jealous? Do you need something from me?" Sebastian asked slowly, even so moving to lean it towards Eddy a little bit more, just to spite him. "Or do you just not like the idea that I'm back because I know more now? That I've also been at this for a very long while? We have time."
"I am, I promise." Maia said with a genuine laugh. She knew the two of them could go around in circles but she really wanted to convey that there would be no hard feelings whatsoever on her part. "Mostly just looking for protection spells and what not. Could really just take what I can get." She shrugged nonchalantly. As much as she always looked over her shoulder for her past to haunt her, Maia tried to show that it wasn't a life or death situation.
"I can help with that," Simone's face lit up. The shop was filled with books and trinkets and crystals that could be used for protection. And she was very versed in protection spells and continued to practice. "Well, I could point out a few books for you firstly, and if you are interested there are a few charms to try as well."
If you were to utter a single word to Earagon about the profound soothness of libraries, you wouldn't merely receive a nod of agreement. Instead, you would unleash a torrent of impassioned discourse, a philosophical exploration of the very concept of a library that could easily span hours. He would speak with fervent delight about how the unique, earthy scent of aging paper and leather, a fragrance born of countless stories and forgotten wisdom, possessed a calming power akin to the most exquisitely scented candle. It wasn't just a smell; it was an embrace, a gentle hush that settled over the mind, quieting the clamor of the world outside.
He would then move on to the auditory delights, describing how the rhythmic, almost ritualistic flipping of pages was not just a sound, but a symphony. Each rustle, each soft thud as a page turned, was a note in a grand composition, a quiet melody that spoke of discovery, contemplation, and the slow unfolding of knowledge. Perhaps it was an inevitable consequence of his advancing years, this deep-seated envy for the enduring nature of old things, this profound appreciation that seemed utterly alien to the fleeting interests of younger souls. He saw in them a resilience, a history, and a quiet dignity that resonated deeply within him.
"Not a book of mine, no, but a book I am certainly looking for, yes," he clarified with a gentle nod, his eyes twinkling with an almost childlike anticipation. He then delightedly clasped his hands together, a gesture of pure, unadulterated joy. "They certainly are divine, aren't they? Utterly divine. Especially the maps of the old cemetery of this very town. Did you know," he leaned in conspiratorially, his voice dropping to an eager whisper, "that it meticulously shows every single grave since eighteen fourteen? Every name, every date, a complete record stretching back over two centuries!" His voice swelled with genuine awe. "Simply amazing, truly out of this world—a testament to lives lived, stories etched in stone, preserved within those hallowed pages."
Sebastian liked to consider himself well-read. He always enjoyed looking for something new and different. And being alive (or perceived) as long as he had, there had been plenty that he had seen and enjoyed and even not so much. Things changing as quickly as they did and his distaste for certain kinds of poetry. He stuck to the classics because that was what he knew best. Some may call him naive for just sticking to those. But he never shied away from exploring those new concepts.
The library was old enough to have a lot of history. So Sebastian had always found it fascinating and interesting of note that there were many records available to read. That mixed in with his family's archives, he had learned a lot over the six months that he had been back. "Interesting, yes," he smiled at the man and picked up another dusty book. "I have always been fascinated by history. My family has old newspapers and I'd spend hours reading through them and get the ink on my fingers,"
He nodded. "Old cemeteries did that, to mark where the families were laid. Sometimes there were too many that the younger generations would get lost." He had taken a tour in New Orleans and been with a groundskeeper, doing it specifically for educational purposes and enlightening tourists with rich history. "I think more places should record the same way now. Everything is so out of reach in the digital world. Old records are going to stay stashed away from new eyes."
After-hours therapy date
"Honey..." Aurora's voice was a low growl, a stark contrast to the clinking ice in her perfectly crafted cocktail. A deep frown creased her features, pulling at the corners of her expertly applied eyeliner. "I said I wanted to have fun with you. I may be a therapist, but that doesn't mean I need your whole sob story after hours." Her patience, a finite resource even on the best of days, had completely evaporated. With a decisive swish of her silk dress, she pivoted on her heel, leaving the crestfallen man mid-sentence and making a beeline for another, seemingly empty table across the dimly lit bar.
Ugh, men. Sometimes, she truly missed the uncomplicated tenderness of a woman's affection, a softer touch, a quieter understanding. But then, Aurora was easily bored; relationships, no matter the gender, tended to fizzle out as quickly as they ignited, leaving a trail of half-remembered dates and forgotten promises.
She settled into the plush banquette, letting out a soft sigh of relief. The silence, for a glorious moment, was hers alone. But before she could even take a fortifying sip of her drink, a shadow fell across the table. Her frown deepened as she looked up, her gaze landing on an unexpected pair of eyes. "Please tell me you've had a better day than me, at least," she grumbled, the words laced with a weary resignation that spoke volumes about her evening.
Myles took a sip of his drink. He had just finished for the day at the museum, and was looking forward to a lowkey quiet kind of night. Of course the place to go was a buzzy bar, so maybe he needed a bit of noise in the background. He nodded. "Long day?" he asked with a lift of his beer. "I spent today in a dark room studying old photographs, but it's not all as bad as it sounds," he chuckled.
The museum was always lively enough that he kept busy. Whether he was working in the basement or if he was on the floor talking to visitors, he never was really bored.
"I hope not all men are that devastating," his lips quirked up into a slight smile. "That doesn't bode well for me either," he laughed a little as he tapped his fingers on the bottle in his hand. "Maybe they're just intimidated by someone so cool and smart," he chuckled. "That can't be the end to our evenings," he said. "This town can't have run out of interesting people already." He was mostly kidding, but he was also tired out from his week.
closed starter for: @blankspaceforbadthings
who: Salem Harlow
"I have that paperwork you asked me for," Myles said as he held onto the file folder he was holding under his arm, entering Salem's office. He looked up at his boss. "And I came bearing gifts," he smiled. "Decided to stop for a pick me up before coming in, and well, now I have two," he nodded.
Having worked in the museum for years, he trusted Salem, who ran the museum under a watchful eye. And he made Myles' job easier, always making sure everything was stacked and aligned perfectly. Myles and his need for perfection appreciated it very much. "Do you think we'll need to add another exhibit in the next coming months? We've had more visitors lately."
closed starter for: @toeaseyourtroubledmind
who: Simone & Aurora (feat. Daphne)
"It'll be fine," Simone placed her hand on her daughter's shoulder. It had been her aunts' idea to have these sessions, because everything had seemed to implode when it came to home life. She didn't like it, but she had welcomed it in, and in turn, her daughter had become more hotheaded in a matter of weeks. She knocked on the door and gave the other witch a smile. "I know I called earlier and this is more of a drop-in session, but we're in need of some advice,"
She urged her daughter to walk in ahead of her. Daphne had always been tall for her age, no thanks to both her parents', but she took on after Lino more than she had cared or wanted to admit. "We should start by saying that Daphne is less of a... witch than I am, and more like her father," she nodded as she sat down, then looked at her daughter. "It's anger issues. Mostly."
( @stllcfthcnght -- in the forest, pack borders late, middle of the night )
With the new vampire clan, nightly patrols had become more and more necessary. More often than not, Lino had felt compelled to perform them himself. Times had changed, and while werewolves were not as bound to nature as they used to be, he himself still felt the most comfortable in Westray's forest, which he knew like barely any of the younger wolves that preferred their phones, and staying in. Dark, soft fur grazed bushes, trees and small stones, before his paws dug in the ground, claws extended, eyebrows furrowed. Soft, grey eyes turn dark within seconds as a smell hits his nose that is more than just uncomfortable. Fur shifts into skin, claws shift into fingernails, grey eyes become what was once eyes so brown that they almost seem black.
Like most other werewolves, Emiliano is too used to being naked to care, and when the familiar person comes into sight, he is leaning against a tree -- comfortably, no intention to shield himself from Myles' view. "Evening.", he hums, "Nice weather, no? Does not distract me from the fact that you are awfully close to my packs borders."
Night patrols were a regular occurrence, and it made time for Myles to just quietly observe what was going on. He moved through the leaves that had fallen and was taking advantage of the quiet. It was much easier to focus when he was there, alone. Or assumed to be alone. Of course, there wasn't much he could do as other creatures wandered as well. He kept his guard up and glanced around to make sure he wasn't being followed by someone he didn't want to confront.
He had gotten used to things crackling behind him, or around him. His head turned to the side, seeing the beta from the Beserkers crossing his path. He sighed, a mix of amusement and defeat as he spoke up. "Dark, overcast, and just a slight breeze," Myles looked up at him again, entertaining the concept. "Just making sure no one crosses on this side either," he said. "Might want to help keep your boys in check. They think they're so clever," he pursed his lips. "Also does not distract me from the fact that you're enjoying your new skills."
kate was typing a few references on her laptop to fill in the order of a few books needed. focused on her screen, the witch looked up to see a young man mentioning her name. "yes, that's me." she said, offering a warm smile as she nodded. "well, you are in the right place." she chuckled lightly before then listening to his request. "of course, could you please provide me more details so i could help you?" her green hues sparkled with warmth as she asked: "is it an encyclopedia? a novel? any specific book?"
"Thank you," Sebastian gave her a polite nod back. "I'm looking for some history... of the more supernatural type," he explained. "I am doing more research and I figured the library would have some interesting files. As compared to the archives at the paper. I can only get too far without there being some biases," he said. "Whatever you can give me would be a good start," he smiled.
"Are you sure? It's not something I came in specifically for so I don't mind." She offered one last time, trying to be surprisingly considerate. At the other's question Maia looked up, smiling slightly. "A bit. Partially wanted to learn more about the town, partially wanted to learn if there was anything non witch people could do." Because frankly Maia would give anything for extra protection at the moment.
"Oh," Alice said with a chuckle. "Are you sure?" she offered a smile. It wouldn't take them too long to do the politeness back and forth right in front of a bookshelf. It could just go around and around a hundred times over. She chuckled. "Hmm, maybe I could offer some wisdom there? It depends on exactly what you are looking for."