Curiosity Killed the Cat || [Erlou]
@maritimeericandersen
Of course, Lou had heard about the petitions that had begun circulating around town. And, of course, he had heard about the vampires that apparently owned the bed and breakfast (the bed and breakfast, itself, had hardly appeared on Lou’s radar until now--why would it have?) He did not know what to think about any of it, to be frank.
Part of him wished he did not have to think about it at all. That was--impossible, considering that two of them directly attacked what he was. The moniker was still taking getting used to. Sometimes, Lou forgot that he was a werewolf at all for how normal he felt. Which, he supposed, was an argument towards the ridiculousness of calling werewolves monsters, but he digressed. The thing was: Toulouse was still who he had always been, which meant an aristocrat raised for the foundational years of his life in Paris, to a mother and father of slightly liberal, but mostly centrist views on magic.
He did believe there were some Magicks that were inherently evil: demons, for one; vampires, for another. But if that petition passed, Lou would struggle even more than he already did to find a job, which was--not excellent news, considering the longer he went without proper work, the more he could feel his mania growing, like the true monster, feeding on his idleness until it drove him mad. More importantly: Hades could be out of a job, and while the Bonfamilles, of course, would support him if necessary--it was not a long term solution, if only for Hades’ own sanity.
So, yes, he could not ignore it, but that did not mean he believed in the utopia that Miss Vee Hauntley was spouting either. And he found it very presumptuous that she had declared herself as speaking on behalf of “all Magicks in Swynlake.” He was a Magick in Swynlake. She hadn’t spoken to him.
These thoughts chased themselves around in his head as he sat on the grass in the park, rolling a ball for Opal to chase after. In his distraction, he had rolled the ball a bit too hard, a bit too far away for Opal’s toddling legs to catch up to it quickly enough. It bounced against a stranger’s shoe who was walking by, Opal giggling as she ran after it.
Toulouse stood at once. “Opal,” he called, causing her to stop and look back at him with her wide, bright eyes.
“Ba!” she told him, pointing at the ball.
“I’m apologize,” Lou said, starting forward to reclaim the toy from the boy who had been stopped.