Admittedly, it had been a minute since Hollis had asked someone out on a real date. Sure, he had met up with someone here or there for a drinks. But it wasn't like a date date. It honestly surprised him a bit when he did ask Athena out. They really had only just met but there was just something about her that Hollis couldn't quite put his finger on... Something very intriguing about her. Maybe she felt the same about him because she actually agreed, much to his surprise. If this date bombed, well, they didn't have to see each other again. But who knows?
The werewolf hobbled around his apartment, getting ready for the night. He took a shower, picked out his outfit for the evening, made sure his hair looked respectable. The norm. Before he left, he tidied up his apartment a bit more. He was a bit of a neat freak. Everything there had a place and he made sure that everything was there before he left. Hollis threw on his a pair of boots, grabbed his keys, cane and wallet then went out the door.
Hollis wandered down to the garage of his apartment building and eventually found his motorcycle. It wasn't very often that Hollis took the bike out. Mostly because he usually just going to and fro Manhattan. However, Coney Island was about a 40 minute drive. So he actually had a reason this time. With a loud groan, he threw his bum leg over the bike, hooked his cane into the special hooks he had put on, and turned it on. He revved the engine a couple times before he zoomed off.
The drive to Coney Island was quite relaxing. He forgot how much he liked to ride. He made a note to do it more often. When he arrived at the fair, he parked as close as he possibly could before he hopped off the bike and grabbed his cane once again. As he walked up to the entrance, he ran his fingers through his hair to help fix it from the wind. Hollis' blue eyes shifted around the fair, looking for Athena's familiar face. When he didn't see her, he just found a spot to stand by an elephant ear stand. Hopefully she would be able to find him. There weren't very many supernaturals with a cane.
Just how Isra managed to sidle next to Hollis, the seraph couldn’t say. she certainly wouldn’t complain about it. It was always fun to hang around the wolf, and there was no telling what sort of trouble they’d find. By way of greeting, she nudged his side gently. “I was thinking onion rings and sweet potato fries,” the seraph offered. “Y’know. Get some veggies in.” Isra crossed her arms over her chest as she scanned the offerings on the menu. Everything was deep fried - from corn dogs and pickles to oreos and ice cream. Onion rings and sweet potato fries seemed like it would be just what the doctor ordered. It seemed like she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t dressed up for the event, unless Hollis was a character she wasn’t familiar with. It was honestly more likely than she cared to admit.
Instead of commenting on that, Isra rose up on the balls of her feet for a moment, peering into another booth. “Or they have soft pretzels,” she added, pointing to the booth next door. “It sounds like sacrilege, but honestly dipping a salted soft pretzel in caramel or chocolate sauce is absolutely heavenly.”
FOR: COVEN MEMBERS (OR THOSE WHO WENT TO INITIATION)
TIME: AFTER COVEN INITIATIONS
Finishing picking up the candles as she tossed them into the basket on her arm and sat them next to the books and objects that had been used for the Initiations. Hearing footsteps behind her caused her to look up, she gave a grim look. “Tonight was interesting.” She said aloud, started to pull at the tie on her cape before she took off the black robe and tossed it next to her things. Running a hand through her long blonde hair, she moved it away from her face. Tonight had not been the worst thing to happen during her reign as supreme, but the fact that so many people had failed was a low point for her. “Want to help me finish cleaning up then we can get back to Fright Fest?” She questioned. “Drinks are on me even considering I put you all through this tonight.” She laughed. “And you know are asking you to help me clean up.”
DATE: October 30th, 2021
TIME: 08:11 PM
LOCATION: Coney Island
A bustling, loud and overly crowded place with drunks in costumes is definitely not Luke’s scene but he was asked by a colleague to take a few shots for an article. With the camera strap around his neck and definitely not dressed up for the occasion, he keeps on wandering at the edge of the crowd. He can’t bring himself to brave deeper into the sea of people without his inner alarm flaring up and ringing in his ears. Feeling somewhat pathetic, he just glares at the innocent food car selling caramel apples. He visibly flinches when someone walks up to him and comes into his view. “What? I wasn’t... looking,” he responds a little too quickly, looking away with the camera in his hands as if he has found something to take a picture of.
(TW graphic descriptions of violence, pain, blood, murder, death)
Landon: Landon watched from a distance as his former friend, turned enemy, happily passed out pastries. What looked like his new friends loitered around the booth. A smirk crept across Landon’s face. Lark had evaded the Islington Syndicate long enough and now he himself had the privilege of wiping that smile off his face. Forever. As he slowly made his way over to the stand, he wondered if Lark would recognise him after all these years. Hoping he would so that one of the last things Lark would feel was betrayal.
Ruairi: There wasn't a better way to spend his night than to be spending it with his lover and some friends. So far, this fair had been pretty fun. It was Ruairi's first fair too (as sad as it was to say, considering he was thirty-five, but he had a sheltered life). He stood at the pastry stand, leaning up against it, watching as people walked by. He would have been promoting the booth, but he was pretty sure it was doing fine by itself. Looking over towards the stand, he caught the eye of his boyfriend and smiled over to him, "Breakin' a sweat yet?" He asked with a smile.
Hayden: Hayden had been going around through the fair on her own, but she’d made plenty of stops to visit people she knew along the way. Suddenly hungry, she figured she could stop by Lark’s place and see if there was anything she could get a family discount on. She saw who must be Lark’s boyfriend, she wasn’t exactly the best at paying attention to these things. With a smile to her brother, she pointed to some of the pastries. “Any chance there’s one here that’s free for family?” she asked as she looked around. She nodded to Ruairi in acknowledgment. “Hey, I’m Hayden. Lark’s sister.” Always alert though, she did sense someone was coming near them and she instinctively turned her head towards someone she hadn’t seen around before. This distracted her a bit, she couldn’t pinpoint what the look in his eyes was, but she didn’t think she liked it one bit.
Lachlan: Being a fish out of water wasn't something Lachlan had felt in quite a long time, but being at this fair with little to no acquaintances made that a little too easy. He wasn't sure what he even hoped to accomplish by being here--maybe just to make a friend or two--but nevertheless, he went where he thought fate would guide him. Happening upon a pastry stand immediately caught his attention and he made his way over, looking over the various treats on display as his stomach growled as if on cue. He made very brief eye contact with the one running the stand but didn't speak up just yet, not wanting to interrupt the person in front of him.
Lark: Lark laughed as his boyfriend and sister teased him. “Break a sweat? No, selling the pastries is the easy part,” he replied to Rue, as he handed Hayden a ghost-shaped pain au chocolat. Just past her, he noticed a familiar face and his eyes widened. “Hayden, move,” he whispered. “Oh my god. It’s Eddie Icarus!” The exclamation was quiet but fervent and likely noticeable as the former star approached the stall. Lark failed to notice a second familiar face approaching from the distance as he addressed Lachlan, “I’m sorry to be so forward, but you’re Eddie Icarus aren’t you? I must say I’m a fan, anything you like, it’s on the house.”
Landon: Leave it to Lark to be too starstruck and giddy to notice a ghost from his past. Really, the faded celebrity was the perfect distraction. The happier and higher the little bird was, the harder he would fall. All the better in Landon’s and surely Mr. Crane’s eyes. As the four chatted away, Landon approached the stand, interrupting, “And what about a free treat for an old friend?”
Ruairi: His eyes stayed up Lark for more moments, smiling at his response until he heard Lark's sister speak up. They hadn't really met yet. He just knew about her from Lark's tales, "Hayden, it's a true pleasure. I'm Ruairi." He smiled warmly. When Lark suddenly spoke up about an Eddie Icarus, his brow quirked and he looked towards the man. And when another approached the booth, interrupting Lark, he pushed himself from the wall of the stand and made his way beside Lark. It was really just a habit nowadays. And if this was an old friend, he wouldn't mind meeting him anyhow.
Hayden: Hayden felt a good vibe coming off Ruairi so her usual protective older sister side was satisfied enough. She had no idea who this Eddie Icarus was but she could immediately tell she didn't like the vibe coming off this supposed 'old friend'. Taking a large bite out of the pain au chocolat Lark gave her, she slowly inched closer to her brother, a mix of familial protection and seraph instincts. She didn't say a word, but she had perfected her most intimidating stance even for someone as physically small as she was.
Lachlan: Hearing that name felt like a punch to the gut. Immediately his eyes were torn from the display and directed towards the man addressing him, doing his best to keep a calm expression. "Uh, yeah. That's me." He responded, nodding his head as he gave the other a small smile. "Keep it down, though, would ye? I'm tryin' tae keep a low profile." He hoped he didn't come off as rude, but he wasn't sure how else to put it. As the other approached, Lachlan's brow furrowed and his eyes drifted between Landon and Lark, unsure of what to make of the situation.
Lark: “Right,” Lark replied to Lachlan, quickly apologetic, “Sorry, didn’t mean to… do I call you… it’s Lachlan, right? What am I saying? I don’t call you anything, I don’t know you, I… please, pick out anything you li—“ An unfamiliar voice spoke to him and he turned to see a face distantly familiar calling himself an old friend. It took him a moment to process the face, but when he did he couldn’t figure out if he should smile or run. Any familiar face from London was going to be one Lark would have to second guess. At best his childhood friend was just visiting, hadn’t gotten caught up in the syndicate and this was a joyful reunion. But at worst… the syndicate had finally found him and his time was up at the hands of someone he once trusted. A cruel final joke. “… Land? Is that you?” He asks hesitantly, but hoping for the best he continues, “Bloody hell, it’s been so long. How are you? What are you doing here?”
Landon: “In the flesh.” Landon replied, with a cocky grin, “It has been a long time, hasn’t it, little bird?” He was having all too much fun stringing this out, so he decided not to cut too quickly to their grand finale. “Oh, I’m sure you know, London can get so stuffy. But actually, I came here to see you. I have missed you so, dear friend.” In its own way, it’s a warning that, at some point, Lark’s wards were weak enough to get through and he was found. Whether or not he takes it as an actual warning from the Syndicate is another matter.
Ruairi: As Lark and the man (whose name was either Eddie or Lachlan) he was bumbling over spoke, Ruairi smiled softly and grabbed a pastry, tossing it over to him, "'Ere. On t'e house." He grinned. His attention turned back to the old friend and Lark, listening intently to what was being said. Ruairi didn't know much about Lark's past but he knew it wasn't the best, from what he gathered. He noted how Hayden seemed to adjust her stance and that put Ruairi on edge. He was damn good at reading people, considering it was his job and the Irishman did not get a good vibe from this guy. Maybe he could get them to evacuate the situation, "Lark, I'm not feeling too great. Do you t'ink you can take a break with me?"
Hayden: Hayden didn't like the way this old friend of her brother's addressed him, that and she knew most of Lark's old life was bad news. She also hated small talk and was more one to get to the point of things. "I can take over if you two want to step away," she said after Ruairi's comment, although she didn't take her eyes off Landon as she spoke. She could only assume the other man was some sort of famous person she didn't know about, but he didn't seem like a threat. "I don't think we've met," she added now addressing Landon directly. "I'm Hayden, Lark's sister." The words were mundane enough but her tone was guarded.
Lachlan: Lark's volley of words were a little too much to process all at once, but it seemed he wouldn't get much of a chance to answer any of his questions. Landon's presence seemed to alter the tone of conversation, and Lachlan was happy to change the subject. "Maybe some introductions are in order then, yeah? he addressed the both of them, gaze fixated on Landon. "You can call me Lachlan. To whom have I got the pleasure of speakin'?"
Lark: Lark was frozen in place. Ruairi spoke to him at some point, didn’t he? If he did, Lark hadn’t fully processed it but found himself stepping closer to his boyfriend nonetheless. Landon had come specifically to see him, which could only mean that his worst fears were confirmed. His hand drifted mindlessly to Ruairi’s arm, “I— I missed you too, Land, but um… how did you— I mean— came to see me?” He could hardly get the words out and, truthfully, he didn’t have to ask. He just didn’t want to believe it. That his past would catch up to him in this way. On one of his favorite times of the year, after just meeting, albeit bumbling, one of his favourite musicians. That his sister would have to bear witness to this. That Ruairi, after everything he’d been through, would have to experience another lover’s downfall. Lark feared death, yes. He’d been afraid of this day from the moment he fled London, but what was worse was the public manner in which it was about to happen. The only thing Lark wished, for now, was that he could go quietly, but even that wish seemed like it would never come true.
Landon: Landon’s eyes drifted lazily to Lark’s sister, “Sister, huh? Strange, you don’t look like Medea… so the stories are true. Genevieve Crane was a proper slag.” A smirk, thinly veiling sinister intentions, slowly panned towards Lachlan, “Landon Fox, pleasure’s all mine. Me and Lark here go way back to primary school. You two, on the other hand, seem to have only just met. A shame, really, Lark’s a lovely bloke… you would have liked him. Too bad we were just ending things.” His bright blue eyes may as well have been black as they turned on Lark, dark and menacing. The fear staring back at him was irresistible. Lark’s hand tightening around the arm of the man beside him. Nothing new, Lark always had somebody to fight his battles for him, soft and weak as he was. Once upon a time that would have been Landon, but that was another life entirely. Never again. “Oh sweet little bird,” he cooed, “you know exactly what I mean when I say I came to see you.” A pause, “Your father sends his regards. And your mother… well, you’ll see her soon.” Raising a hand ever so slightly towards Lark, he began to mutter the spell under his breath, bolstered by the power of the Islington coven. As he did so, Lark’s knees buckled beneath him and he gripped desperately at his stomach.
Ruairi: There was absolutely nothing good about this situation. Ruairi was trying his best to get Lark to evacuate the situation without causing a scene but he felt like he was going to have to. It would be in Lark's best interest really. As his boyfriend grabbed onto his arm, either ignoring or not registering what he had said earlier, Ruairi placed his hand on Lark's lower back, trying to ground him again, "Lark, c'mon." He spoke again. It didn't do anything though. Strange, yet familiar, waves of eeriness and emotions began to wash over Ruairi and he knew that the whole fair was in shambles. The stink of death was in the air and unmistakable. He had been too caught up in everything going on, that he was too late to do anything about this Landon character doing something to Lark. Suddenly, his boyfriend buckled and Ruairi was grabbing onto him tightly, keeping him upright. It was then when he realized the smell of death was oozing from Lark, "No, no, no, no." Ruairi repeated, clutching onto his boyfriend tightly, "What t'e fuck are you doing to him?!" He practically screamed at this stranger, tears brimming as he pulled Lark onto the ground with him, "Lark, hey, look at me." Ruairi told him, gently turning his head towards him.
Hayden: Hayden could guess by context what this Landon guy just called Lark’s mom, and she was not having it. She took a step closer to the stranger as a warning, but the words he spoke to her brother sent a chill down her spine. Then the spell came. She didn’t know what spell it was but as soon as she saw her brother in pain from it, large black wings unfolded from her back as she turned back towards Landon, the only way to describe her expression was pure fury. Her hand reached out until it was tightly wrapped around Landon’s throat. “Keep going and I’ll tear out your vocal cords,” she threatened. As head of the agency she had to have some self-restraint, but she didn’t know what the spell was doing to Lark and she wasn’t going to let this asshole kill her brother.
Lachlan: Would have liked him? Landon's wording sent a chill down Lachlan's spine, and he could only watch as the chaos began to unfold before him. He instinctively took a step back when Ruairi rushed to Lark's side, gaze shifting from the pair on the ground and back to Landon. He wanted to muster words, anything at all, but without a coven to empower his magic, could he really stand any chance against whoever this was? Seeing wings sprout from Hayden's back broke him from his concentration; a seraph? It seemed he was mostly in supernatural company, but did he dare try casting anything against Landon? "I'd listen to her, pal. I'd not like to be on the receiving end of that." He finally spoke, choosing not to take any sort of action at the moment.
Lark: Lark had very little time to process Landon’s words before the searing pain cut through his insides. It was far more excruciating than anything he’d experienced in his entire life. And, given who his stepfather was, he’d experienced some pretty excruciating pain in the past. This was something more — a twisting, tearing burning like his body was rejecting and consuming its own organs. It was almost enough to distract from the fact that he’d just been told his mother was dead. The pain was too great to fully understand it and he had a sense that, if he made it out of this, it would be far from the end to this nightmare. He couldn’t scream, he could hardly speak as Ruairi pulled him in, holding his face up to see the dreaded tears in his eyes. Perhaps it was an even worse pain to see his partner cry for him, “R-Rue…” he rasped, attempting to lift a hand to wipe away the tears. But the pain surged again, like claws ripping through him and his hand dropped as he coughed blood onto the ground beside them. He collapsed into Ruairi’s lap, head turning to see Hayden with her hand around Landon’s throat, “Hay… den… no! Don’t…” he tried to call to her, his voice weak and frayed. Ever forgiving, ever choosing to see the best in people, even if it meant killing him, Lark didn’t want his old friend to die. He didn’t want anyone else to have to die for him. Hayden’s or Lachlan’s warnings must have been effective though, because the pain eased for a moment, just enough for him to take Ruairi’s hands and make out more than a few words, “Rue… I—I’m not going to make it. Tell Luke I’m sorry and not to get angry. Tell him and my sisters I loved them, and you… I love you, Rue.” It was the first time he’d said it, neither of them had been ready yet, but what better time than your dying breaths, right? “Thank you, goodbye.” The pain seized him again more violently than before, he coughed up more blood and felt himself fading.
Landon: Landon laughed low when Hayden’s hand gripped his throat cutting off the spell for a moment. “Impressive wings, but you’re still just a naive girl, seraph. Just ask your brother, if I don’t finish this, someone else will. The syndicate is vast and powerful I won’t be the last to come for him.” He was sure the spell had already done enough so he dropped his hand momentarily and looked towards Lachlan. His smile sinister and malicious, “You’d probably be right… if I had anything to lose.” Hand whipping back out towards Lark his voice boomed as he began to finish the spell, channeling all the power he could to put an end to this.
Ruairi: Ruairi was truly trying his best not to fully spiral but he was slowly but surely losing that effort. He had been through this once before with his fianceé and he didn't think he would be experiencing it again. Let alone so soon. The tears in Ruairi's eyes spilled over at the sight of his lover. And they only spilled more when he tried to speak. This wasn't fair. Why did this have to happen to Lark? He was a good man. It seemed at one point, the pain of whatever was happening to Lark subsided and he was able to speak fully. Ruairi clutched his hands tightly, listening intently to every word. His head nodded softly, his eyes remaining on his boyfriend's and a loud sob escaped him, "I love you too." He told him, knowing how deeply he loved the man. Ruairi suddenly shook his head and pulled Lark up into a seated position when he heard his goodbye, throwing his boyfriend's arm over his shoulders before he stood up, holding onto him tightly, "L-Lachlan." He called out, "Please give me a hand." Ruairi pleaded, beginning to move forward, determined to find some type of help.
Hayden: As soon as Landon started speaking a spell yet again, Hayden was seeing red. Though they couldn’t be used as a weapon, the spikes of her wings angled themselves towards the man before her. Then in one swift motion, she took a blade from her belt and sliced through Landon’s throat. She didn’t hear her brother tell her to stop, but if she had she wouldn’t have listened anyway. She must have looked a sight, blood splattered on her from her proximity to Landon, but she still turned back with wild panic in her eyes. Seeing her brother seemingly unconscious, she quickly walked toward him and looked over to Ruairi. “Find somewhere safe to lay him down and don’t let his heart stop,” she ordered. “I’m going to get a healer witch and I’ll be right back, got it?” Her instructions spoken, she didn’t wait for an answer before running off. She thankfully knew what every healer witch in the coven looked like so she knew who to look for.
Lark: Dark, cold, numb. Somewhere, outside of this blurry, void-like existence, voices were yelling. Arms pulled desperately at the body that once belonged to Lark Crane, but no longer seemed to. There was a faint whisper of pain, not in any physical sense, but rather in the sense of incomprehensibly heavy loss. No flashes of a life lived played before his eyes like people always told him. He would not see the faces he longed to see one more time before slipping away, but at least he wouldn’t have to see the ones he feared either. Perhaps this void was all there would be for the rest of forever. The voices drifted farther and farther away until there was nothing, but the dark, cold, numbness.
Landon: There was the fulfilling rush of a mission accomplished as Landon felt Lark fading away under his magic. And then the cool, sharp blaze of steel through his throat. It didn’t hurt so much as surprise, as the blood cascaded uncontrollably from the gash. Slipping into his unconscious mind came fast, but felt like millennia within his dying body. Gasps for air sputtered out of him as he collapsed to the ground and, when darkness came, he saw everything. He was a child again, running around playing pirates with his best friend, Lark. Their mothers joked darkly that foxes were natural predators to cranes and yet nothing could seem further from the truth for these boys. As time passed it was hard for Landon to fully comprehend where his feelings for Lark began to sour, it must have just boiled down to their nature as their mothers had predicted. Then again, there was also Arthur Crane Sr. taking him under his wing after his father passed and Lark had been long gone. Any distaste Landon had developed for Lark over the years turned entirely to poison and malice. Now, with the life slipping from him, Landon saw everything — the good scattered sparingly among heaps of bad, evil masquerading as nobility. Realising as late as possible that he and Lark were nothing, but pawns — used and abused for a greater villain’s gain. All he could feel now was regret. Followed by the hope that, wherever he was going, he would find Lark there. Maybe then he could apologise for everything and, knowing Lark, he’d find forgiveness.
Faye hated Halloween with a passion, but she’d agreed to go in the hopes of being festive with her roommate and friends. While she hadn’t dressed up for the evening she was still wearing all black and had at least put a witch hat on to appear somewhat like she was playing along. Standing at the open bar as she ordered another drink and fiddled with the locket around her neck. “Waiting too?” She asked as she looked at the person next to her. Figuring that she’d at least attempt to be nice and strike up a conversation. “I’m Faye, by the way.”
Open starter @darkesthourstarters for Fright Fest
He stuck to the shadows, keeping his back pressed against brick walls and the ends of the various booths giving out confectionaries and prizes. If he was exposed... that witch might get him, sneak up behind him and do God knows what. How exactly she had killed their alpha, his beloved, was unclear. The two seconds who had taken him to the veterinary office didn’t see anything out of the ordinary but upon further examination-- it was clear his injuries hadn’t been the cause of his death like the pack had first thought. Which left only one option... Lola Rai.
Cato pushed off the brick wall and started walking, trying to find a new spot for him to hide out. There had to be at least two hundred people at the festival. How he would find one woman he still wasn’t sure-- but determination kept him sharp. He took heavy breaths, smelling the air for anything recognizable. He had met Lola a few times after all... so far nothing smelled familiar except a sticky sweet smell. Cato perked up as he noticed a stall selling caramel apples. His back straightened. He shouldn’t. But he wanted to. Then there was the job-- that in the last few hours had gone nowhere. It’s a fucking apple you dog get over it. He glared at the stand as the debate continued in his mind.
