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@the-good-brother
Supernatural Based OC
Stefan is gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide. He's a demonic occult shop owner who currently lives in Stull, Kansas. He uses he/him pronouns and has a husband named Dalton who is a Nephilim.
He loves snakes, theatre, and karaoke. He volunteers for a local theatre company and does stuff like prop making.
He has a tattoo running down his left arm of his pet snake, Jade, whom he loves more than anything, possibly all of the aforementioned things.
Summer, 1987. A dry breeze wafted through dusty Stull, Kansas. That breeze brought little relief to the farmers in the fields wiping the sweat from their brows. It brought little change to the direction of the weather vanes on the barn rooftops. It brought little rustling to the cornstalks in the fields or the leaves on the trees. That breeze blew the Møller family right into town. Colden, Lilla, and their three children had landed in the country less than three hours prior. They had bought a house in Kansas through a friend of a friend. They had needed to leave their home in Paris for... reasons. Reasons the oldest son, Stefan wouldn't reveal except under waterboarding, reasons the younger son, Shuonun, thought were stupid and sort of funny, and reasons the youngest daughter, a bouncing baby girl named Sarpedon, were oblivious to. Stull was to be their new home, much to the chagrin of Shuonun. He was not excited for country life like his parents were. He was not relieved to be in America like his brother was. He was not blissfully ignorant like his six-month-old sister was.
Alexander thanked himself that his parents weren’t farmers, they owned the drug store in the sleepy town, but he felt they had as many kids as most. The town was large enough that the kids weren’t forced to all play with each other in some one-room-schoolhouse but small enough that everybody knew the Pine last name.
Furthermore, everyone knew that a new family was moving to town, and the young boy would be damned if he didn’t see them in person. Pushing his way to the front of the crowd around the house, he took note of the ages of the children, already planning to brag to his younger sister that there was a boy his age.
Watching the mayor welcome the family to town, he rolled his eyes at the over-friendliness from a woman who had yelled at him for climbing a tree an hour prior.
"Good lord," Shuonun murmured. "Is that root beer flavoured ice cream? Could I have root beer flavoured ice cream in root beer? Ludicrous!"
It was then that he noticed a flavour called "French Vanilla" and shook his head. "Nevermind," he said. "I want that one. What are you having?"
Sticky hands and a full face pressed up against the chilled glass for a full two minutes before Alexander declared that he wanted the most colourful ice cream the shop had.
It didn’t seem like it’d be possible to smile bigger than he already was, but when the boy caught sight of his full cup in front of him, he grinned like he’d won the lottery.
“This is crazy, I’ve never been allowed to have a full scoop to myself before, my parents usually make me share with my brother, and he always wants boring flavours…like French vanilla.”
"Why don't you make him get what you want?" Shuonun asked. "Why do you always have to do what he says?"
When he swallowed his first mouthful of root beer his eyes lit up and a devilish smile crossed his face.
"Oh, that is wicked..." he mumbled to himself. "Tellement cool."
Alexander didn’t know what those last few words out of Shuonun’s mouth meant, but he grinned all the less.
Though it might’ve looked odd, the shorter boy wouldn’t stop staring at the still foreigner in front of him. Tilting his head at one point, Alexander couldn’t help but blurt out, “you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met, you kinda just take what you want from life.”
“I think that’s cool, it’s like a superhero, taking charge.”
"If you don't take what you want from life," Shuonun asked, "How will you ever get it?"
He turned to face Alex, still slurping away at his ice cream. "You can't let other people tell you what to do all the time."
Alexander thought about that for a while, finishing his own ice cream. When he looked up again to see Shuonun and noticed how he was practically digging into his dessert rather than spooning it, an idea surfaced to the front of his mind.
“I know I said I’d show you around the clothing shops, but there’s a lady in town with a peach orchard, and some of us kids will sometimes head down there and grab a few to eat then and there. I think you’d like that- have ya ever had food off the vine or straight from a garden?”
Shuonun began to protest. The deal had been that Alex would help him get clothes to blend in. But the promise of fresh fruit was just too enticing.
"Lead the way," he said definitively.
While they walked, he thought of another question. "The woman who owns the tree; doesn't she mind you stealing her fruit?"
Grinning and neglecting to wipe the ice cream on the corners of his smile, Alexander took Shuonun’s clean hand in his sticky one.
Already pulling him out of the shoppe, bell ringing behind them, the shorter boy practically dragged the taller one to the outskirts of town.
“I don’t think she does, and when she yells and chases us with a broom, I don’t think she means it.”
“Her husband shot at me with a gun once, but I think there was just air in there, for scaring the chickens.”
Shuonun's eyes widened. He had never seen a real gun outside of a war memorial or museum. "No way," he murmured. "Is it dangerous?"
Alexander, desperately wanting to sound cool toward someone from the city, nodded. Taking on a solemn tone, he ushered for Shuonun to lean in close before whispering,
“A kid from my class was clean blasted through last month, he came to school with a hole in him!”
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Alexander’s more truthful half was wandering the library. Collin wasn’t protective of his self proclaimed fortress, but he kept note of everyone who entered and left the small building.
The moment he noticed someone he had never seen before, someone close to his age, the shorter boy commenced his routine. Staring until he was noticed.
Stefan didn't feel safe in many places but libraries had never given him trouble before. Back in France, his bibliotheque had been his safe haven. He had spent hours there immersed in old tomes with hardcovers.
This library was different, though. The Stull Public Library had boxes of magezines, paperback novels yellowed with mildew, and old encyclopedias by the dozen. It was much smaller than the library in Marseilles had been but Stefan was certain he could find some peace here too.
At least, he was certain until he noticed the younger boy who was staring him down.
"What do you want?" he asked defensively, holding up the book in his arms like a shield.
Collin had been looking through the fantasy section, a book halfway in his hand, when Stefan noticed him too. Blinking a few times as if he couldn’t be bothered, he eventually cleared his throat with a simple, “you’re new.”
“You’re new and you’re dressed as if you don’t belong here- we don’t sell the type of clothing you’re wearing in town.”
Eyes flicking down to Stefan’s hand as if to see what book, if any, he had in hand, Collin then looked back into his eyes.
“You don’t look like you enjoy talking much either.”
Stefan was holding "Jane Eyre" by Charlotte Bronte in his hands and the way he held it was as if he expected it to protect him from Collin's prodding.
"I don't want any trouble," he said quietly. "If I'm in your way I'll go." The slight French accent he had only slipped out on certain words.
“That’s a good one, Bronte wrote it in rebellion against Victorian critics claiming women should stick to pastoral scenes and high class happenings,” Collin said in return.
“You’re taller than me, if I were to goad you into anything, you’d have me on the ground before I knew it-also, that would be a disrespect to the sacred grounds libraries are.”
He held out his own book, a worn copy of “Moby Dick” that had a few stains on the cover.
“I’ve take it you’ve read this one, one of the classics not taught in school.”
"That's my brother's favourite," said Stefan. He shook his head. "I've never read it. I take it you have?"
He glanced around. This library did not seem like sacred ground. The peeling plaster walls and the squeaky metal shelves felt clinical and new-world to him. He wasn't sure he'd ever derive enough comfort from this place to call it holy ground.
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Collin replied with mild surprise, as if reevaluating his assessment of Stefan.
Catching the way he peered at his surroundings, he quickly added, “the town does the the best it can, we don’t have loads of money like cities” as if defending the dilapidated building.
On the other side of town, Alexander was pulling Shuonun along as they trampled through grass, trailed closely behind by the owner of the fields they stole from, a tall woman who was “tired of you kids taking from me, I’m telling your parents!”
Even while threatened, the boy looked to be having the time of his life, laughing whilst trying to catch his breath, worn sneakers threatening to split apart.
"I did not say anything," Stefan said meekly. "I did not insult your library." He hid a little further behind his book.
Shuonun only snickered at the threats. What would his parents do to him that they had not already tried? He prided himself on being impossible to discipline.
"This is wonderful!" he shouted as he and Alex stole into a hiding spot.
Colin realised he was being untoward, a quality frowned upon within his social family. Offering an olive branch in the form of, “would you like to read side by side for a little?”, he then motioned to a set of chairs near a window. Although they were threadbare, they looked perfectly worn in by years of curious minds and parents needing a break from their unruly children.
Alexander laughed, reaching up to untangle a few sticks from his hair. Then straining to catch his breath, the shorter boy turned to Shuonun with a light in his eyes that only heightened how excited he appeared to be.
“Dude, we’d be in so much trouble if your parents found out-they look strict. I heard most people who speak French are, like the rigidity of the vowels causes it or something.”
Stefan's shoulders fell slightly. "Yes," he said. "I would like that." Truthfully, Stefan liked to sit in silence. It wasn't that he liked to be alone. He just liked to be quiet. He moved toward the chairs slowly, watching Colin out of the corner of his eyes.
Shuonun shook his head. "I'd get away with murder," he snickered. "If I wanted to. Trust me. We're golden." He chuckled, arms wrapped around his stomach as he tried to stifle himself so as not to get caught.
Colin didn’t watch him back, already immersed in his book, shoulder length hair obscuring the sides of his face. That was one of the only things he kept slightly unkempt about his appearance, secretly enjoying how his locks matched his much more unruly brother’s.
When he did look up some time later, it was to quietly offer Stefan, “dinner, if you’d so please. There may not be much space at the table, but my mom is cooking tonight, so the food shouldn’t be too unpleasant…that is, if your family would allow that?”
Stefan nodded quickly. "You could come to mine this weekend if you want. My parents said the house will be put together by then. What should I bright with me tonight?"
“Clothing you don’t mind being potentially ruined,” Colin replied with a sigh, obviously not keen of how his family treated dinnertime.
“Furthermore, we should hurry, food runs out fast. My older brothers play sports, and they act like if they don’t eat all the time, they’ll die on the field.”
Motioning for the older boy to follow him, he only motioned again for Stefan to step out of the way of a blur that turned out to be Alexander.
The shorter boy had invited Shuonun over to dinner, not even aware his older brother would be there. Furthermore, it was hard to tell his twin was within feet of him, the two boys only identical by their hair and way they smiled at times.
"What are you doing here?" Stefan asked when he came face to face with Shuonun.
"What are you doing here?" Shuonun sneered in return.
"My friend invited me," Stefan said. He jerked a thumb toward Colin.
"You don't have any friends," Shuonun hissed. "My friend invited me." He grabbed Alex forcefully by the arm and pulled him into view.
Stefan looked Alex up and down with a pitying frown. "Oh no," he said. "You've been chosen by Shuonun. Poor boy, you don't stand a chance."
Summer, 1987. A dry breeze wafted through dusty Stull, Kansas. That breeze brought little relief to the farmers in the fields wiping the sweat from their brows. It brought little change to the direction of the weather vanes on the barn rooftops. It brought little rustling to the cornstalks in the fields or the leaves on the trees. That breeze blew the Møller family right into town. Colden, Lilla, and their three children had landed in the country less than three hours prior. They had bought a house in Kansas through a friend of a friend. They had needed to leave their home in Paris for... reasons. Reasons the oldest son, Stefan wouldn't reveal except under waterboarding, reasons the younger son, Shuonun, thought were stupid and sort of funny, and reasons the youngest daughter, a bouncing baby girl named Sarpedon, were oblivious to. Stull was to be their new home, much to the chagrin of Shuonun. He was not excited for country life like his parents were. He was not relieved to be in America like his brother was. He was not blissfully ignorant like his six-month-old sister was.
Alexander thanked himself that his parents weren’t farmers, they owned the drug store in the sleepy town, but he felt they had as many kids as most. The town was large enough that the kids weren’t forced to all play with each other in some one-room-schoolhouse but small enough that everybody knew the Pine last name.
Furthermore, everyone knew that a new family was moving to town, and the young boy would be damned if he didn’t see them in person. Pushing his way to the front of the crowd around the house, he took note of the ages of the children, already planning to brag to his younger sister that there was a boy his age.
Watching the mayor welcome the family to town, he rolled his eyes at the over-friendliness from a woman who had yelled at him for climbing a tree an hour prior.
"Good lord," Shuonun murmured. "Is that root beer flavoured ice cream? Could I have root beer flavoured ice cream in root beer? Ludicrous!"
It was then that he noticed a flavour called "French Vanilla" and shook his head. "Nevermind," he said. "I want that one. What are you having?"
Sticky hands and a full face pressed up against the chilled glass for a full two minutes before Alexander declared that he wanted the most colourful ice cream the shop had.
It didn’t seem like it’d be possible to smile bigger than he already was, but when the boy caught sight of his full cup in front of him, he grinned like he’d won the lottery.
“This is crazy, I’ve never been allowed to have a full scoop to myself before, my parents usually make me share with my brother, and he always wants boring flavours…like French vanilla.”
"Why don't you make him get what you want?" Shuonun asked. "Why do you always have to do what he says?"
When he swallowed his first mouthful of root beer his eyes lit up and a devilish smile crossed his face.
"Oh, that is wicked..." he mumbled to himself. "Tellement cool."
Alexander didn’t know what those last few words out of Shuonun’s mouth meant, but he grinned all the less.
Though it might’ve looked odd, the shorter boy wouldn’t stop staring at the still foreigner in front of him. Tilting his head at one point, Alexander couldn’t help but blurt out, “you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met, you kinda just take what you want from life.”
“I think that’s cool, it’s like a superhero, taking charge.”
"If you don't take what you want from life," Shuonun asked, "How will you ever get it?"
He turned to face Alex, still slurping away at his ice cream. "You can't let other people tell you what to do all the time."
Alexander thought about that for a while, finishing his own ice cream. When he looked up again to see Shuonun and noticed how he was practically digging into his dessert rather than spooning it, an idea surfaced to the front of his mind.
“I know I said I’d show you around the clothing shops, but there’s a lady in town with a peach orchard, and some of us kids will sometimes head down there and grab a few to eat then and there. I think you’d like that- have ya ever had food off the vine or straight from a garden?”
Shuonun began to protest. The deal had been that Alex would help him get clothes to blend in. But the promise of fresh fruit was just too enticing.
"Lead the way," he said definitively.
While they walked, he thought of another question. "The woman who owns the tree; doesn't she mind you stealing her fruit?"
Grinning and neglecting to wipe the ice cream on the corners of his smile, Alexander took Shuonun’s clean hand in his sticky one.
Already pulling him out of the shoppe, bell ringing behind them, the shorter boy practically dragged the taller one to the outskirts of town.
“I don’t think she does, and when she yells and chases us with a broom, I don’t think she means it.”
“Her husband shot at me with a gun once, but I think there was just air in there, for scaring the chickens.”
Shuonun's eyes widened. He had never seen a real gun outside of a war memorial or museum. "No way," he murmured. "Is it dangerous?"
Alexander, desperately wanting to sound cool toward someone from the city, nodded. Taking on a solemn tone, he ushered for Shuonun to lean in close before whispering,
“A kid from my class was clean blasted through last month, he came to school with a hole in him!”
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Alexander’s more truthful half was wandering the library. Collin wasn’t protective of his self proclaimed fortress, but he kept note of everyone who entered and left the small building.
The moment he noticed someone he had never seen before, someone close to his age, the shorter boy commenced his routine. Staring until he was noticed.
Stefan didn't feel safe in many places but libraries had never given him trouble before. Back in France, his bibliotheque had been his safe haven. He had spent hours there immersed in old tomes with hardcovers.
This library was different, though. The Stull Public Library had boxes of magezines, paperback novels yellowed with mildew, and old encyclopedias by the dozen. It was much smaller than the library in Marseilles had been but Stefan was certain he could find some peace here too.
At least, he was certain until he noticed the younger boy who was staring him down.
"What do you want?" he asked defensively, holding up the book in his arms like a shield.
Collin had been looking through the fantasy section, a book halfway in his hand, when Stefan noticed him too. Blinking a few times as if he couldn’t be bothered, he eventually cleared his throat with a simple, “you’re new.”
“You’re new and you’re dressed as if you don’t belong here- we don’t sell the type of clothing you’re wearing in town.”
Eyes flicking down to Stefan’s hand as if to see what book, if any, he had in hand, Collin then looked back into his eyes.
“You don’t look like you enjoy talking much either.”
Stefan was holding "Jane Eyre" by Charlotte Bronte in his hands and the way he held it was as if he expected it to protect him from Collin's prodding.
"I don't want any trouble," he said quietly. "If I'm in your way I'll go." The slight French accent he had only slipped out on certain words.
“That’s a good one, Bronte wrote it in rebellion against Victorian critics claiming women should stick to pastoral scenes and high class happenings,” Collin said in return.
“You’re taller than me, if I were to goad you into anything, you’d have me on the ground before I knew it-also, that would be a disrespect to the sacred grounds libraries are.”
He held out his own book, a worn copy of “Moby Dick” that had a few stains on the cover.
“I’ve take it you’ve read this one, one of the classics not taught in school.”
"That's my brother's favourite," said Stefan. He shook his head. "I've never read it. I take it you have?"
He glanced around. This library did not seem like sacred ground. The peeling plaster walls and the squeaky metal shelves felt clinical and new-world to him. He wasn't sure he'd ever derive enough comfort from this place to call it holy ground.
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Collin replied with mild surprise, as if reevaluating his assessment of Stefan.
Catching the way he peered at his surroundings, he quickly added, “the town does the the best it can, we don’t have loads of money like cities” as if defending the dilapidated building.
On the other side of town, Alexander was pulling Shuonun along as they trampled through grass, trailed closely behind by the owner of the fields they stole from, a tall woman who was “tired of you kids taking from me, I’m telling your parents!”
Even while threatened, the boy looked to be having the time of his life, laughing whilst trying to catch his breath, worn sneakers threatening to split apart.
"I did not say anything," Stefan said meekly. "I did not insult your library." He hid a little further behind his book.
Shuonun only snickered at the threats. What would his parents do to him that they had not already tried? He prided himself on being impossible to discipline.
"This is wonderful!" he shouted as he and Alex stole into a hiding spot.
Colin realised he was being untoward, a quality frowned upon within his social family. Offering an olive branch in the form of, “would you like to read side by side for a little?”, he then motioned to a set of chairs near a window. Although they were threadbare, they looked perfectly worn in by years of curious minds and parents needing a break from their unruly children.
Alexander laughed, reaching up to untangle a few sticks from his hair. Then straining to catch his breath, the shorter boy turned to Shuonun with a light in his eyes that only heightened how excited he appeared to be.
“Dude, we’d be in so much trouble if your parents found out-they look strict. I heard most people who speak French are, like the rigidity of the vowels causes it or something.”
Stefan's shoulders fell slightly. "Yes," he said. "I would like that." Truthfully, Stefan liked to sit in silence. It wasn't that he liked to be alone. He just liked to be quiet. He moved toward the chairs slowly, watching Colin out of the corner of his eyes.
Shuonun shook his head. "I'd get away with murder," he snickered. "If I wanted to. Trust me. We're golden." He chuckled, arms wrapped around his stomach as he tried to stifle himself so as not to get caught.
Colin didn’t watch him back, already immersed in his book, shoulder length hair obscuring the sides of his face. That was one of the only things he kept slightly unkempt about his appearance, secretly enjoying how his locks matched his much more unruly brother’s.
When he did look up some time later, it was to quietly offer Stefan, “dinner, if you’d so please. There may not be much space at the table, but my mom is cooking tonight, so the food shouldn’t be too unpleasant…that is, if your family would allow that?”
Stefan nodded quickly. "You could come to mine this weekend if you want. My parents said the house will be put together by then. What should I bright with me tonight?"
Summer, 1987. A dry breeze wafted through dusty Stull, Kansas. That breeze brought little relief to the farmers in the fields wiping the sweat from their brows. It brought little change to the direction of the weather vanes on the barn rooftops. It brought little rustling to the cornstalks in the fields or the leaves on the trees. That breeze blew the Møller family right into town. Colden, Lilla, and their three children had landed in the country less than three hours prior. They had bought a house in Kansas through a friend of a friend. They had needed to leave their home in Paris for... reasons. Reasons the oldest son, Stefan wouldn't reveal except under waterboarding, reasons the younger son, Shuonun, thought were stupid and sort of funny, and reasons the youngest daughter, a bouncing baby girl named Sarpedon, were oblivious to. Stull was to be their new home, much to the chagrin of Shuonun. He was not excited for country life like his parents were. He was not relieved to be in America like his brother was. He was not blissfully ignorant like his six-month-old sister was.
Alexander thanked himself that his parents weren’t farmers, they owned the drug store in the sleepy town, but he felt they had as many kids as most. The town was large enough that the kids weren’t forced to all play with each other in some one-room-schoolhouse but small enough that everybody knew the Pine last name.
Furthermore, everyone knew that a new family was moving to town, and the young boy would be damned if he didn’t see them in person. Pushing his way to the front of the crowd around the house, he took note of the ages of the children, already planning to brag to his younger sister that there was a boy his age.
Watching the mayor welcome the family to town, he rolled his eyes at the over-friendliness from a woman who had yelled at him for climbing a tree an hour prior.
"Good lord," Shuonun murmured. "Is that root beer flavoured ice cream? Could I have root beer flavoured ice cream in root beer? Ludicrous!"
It was then that he noticed a flavour called "French Vanilla" and shook his head. "Nevermind," he said. "I want that one. What are you having?"
Sticky hands and a full face pressed up against the chilled glass for a full two minutes before Alexander declared that he wanted the most colourful ice cream the shop had.
It didn’t seem like it’d be possible to smile bigger than he already was, but when the boy caught sight of his full cup in front of him, he grinned like he’d won the lottery.
“This is crazy, I’ve never been allowed to have a full scoop to myself before, my parents usually make me share with my brother, and he always wants boring flavours…like French vanilla.”
"Why don't you make him get what you want?" Shuonun asked. "Why do you always have to do what he says?"
When he swallowed his first mouthful of root beer his eyes lit up and a devilish smile crossed his face.
"Oh, that is wicked..." he mumbled to himself. "Tellement cool."
Alexander didn’t know what those last few words out of Shuonun’s mouth meant, but he grinned all the less.
Though it might’ve looked odd, the shorter boy wouldn’t stop staring at the still foreigner in front of him. Tilting his head at one point, Alexander couldn’t help but blurt out, “you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met, you kinda just take what you want from life.”
“I think that’s cool, it’s like a superhero, taking charge.”
"If you don't take what you want from life," Shuonun asked, "How will you ever get it?"
He turned to face Alex, still slurping away at his ice cream. "You can't let other people tell you what to do all the time."
Alexander thought about that for a while, finishing his own ice cream. When he looked up again to see Shuonun and noticed how he was practically digging into his dessert rather than spooning it, an idea surfaced to the front of his mind.
“I know I said I’d show you around the clothing shops, but there’s a lady in town with a peach orchard, and some of us kids will sometimes head down there and grab a few to eat then and there. I think you’d like that- have ya ever had food off the vine or straight from a garden?”
Shuonun began to protest. The deal had been that Alex would help him get clothes to blend in. But the promise of fresh fruit was just too enticing.
"Lead the way," he said definitively.
While they walked, he thought of another question. "The woman who owns the tree; doesn't she mind you stealing her fruit?"
Grinning and neglecting to wipe the ice cream on the corners of his smile, Alexander took Shuonun’s clean hand in his sticky one.
Already pulling him out of the shoppe, bell ringing behind them, the shorter boy practically dragged the taller one to the outskirts of town.
“I don’t think she does, and when she yells and chases us with a broom, I don’t think she means it.”
“Her husband shot at me with a gun once, but I think there was just air in there, for scaring the chickens.”
Shuonun's eyes widened. He had never seen a real gun outside of a war memorial or museum. "No way," he murmured. "Is it dangerous?"
Alexander, desperately wanting to sound cool toward someone from the city, nodded. Taking on a solemn tone, he ushered for Shuonun to lean in close before whispering,
“A kid from my class was clean blasted through last month, he came to school with a hole in him!”
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Alexander’s more truthful half was wandering the library. Collin wasn’t protective of his self proclaimed fortress, but he kept note of everyone who entered and left the small building.
The moment he noticed someone he had never seen before, someone close to his age, the shorter boy commenced his routine. Staring until he was noticed.
Stefan didn't feel safe in many places but libraries had never given him trouble before. Back in France, his bibliotheque had been his safe haven. He had spent hours there immersed in old tomes with hardcovers.
This library was different, though. The Stull Public Library had boxes of magezines, paperback novels yellowed with mildew, and old encyclopedias by the dozen. It was much smaller than the library in Marseilles had been but Stefan was certain he could find some peace here too.
At least, he was certain until he noticed the younger boy who was staring him down.
"What do you want?" he asked defensively, holding up the book in his arms like a shield.
Collin had been looking through the fantasy section, a book halfway in his hand, when Stefan noticed him too. Blinking a few times as if he couldn’t be bothered, he eventually cleared his throat with a simple, “you’re new.”
“You’re new and you’re dressed as if you don’t belong here- we don’t sell the type of clothing you’re wearing in town.”
Eyes flicking down to Stefan’s hand as if to see what book, if any, he had in hand, Collin then looked back into his eyes.
“You don’t look like you enjoy talking much either.”
Stefan was holding "Jane Eyre" by Charlotte Bronte in his hands and the way he held it was as if he expected it to protect him from Collin's prodding.
"I don't want any trouble," he said quietly. "If I'm in your way I'll go." The slight French accent he had only slipped out on certain words.
“That’s a good one, Bronte wrote it in rebellion against Victorian critics claiming women should stick to pastoral scenes and high class happenings,” Collin said in return.
“You’re taller than me, if I were to goad you into anything, you’d have me on the ground before I knew it-also, that would be a disrespect to the sacred grounds libraries are.”
He held out his own book, a worn copy of “Moby Dick” that had a few stains on the cover.
“I’ve take it you’ve read this one, one of the classics not taught in school.”
"That's my brother's favourite," said Stefan. He shook his head. "I've never read it. I take it you have?"
He glanced around. This library did not seem like sacred ground. The peeling plaster walls and the squeaky metal shelves felt clinical and new-world to him. He wasn't sure he'd ever derive enough comfort from this place to call it holy ground.
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Collin replied with mild surprise, as if reevaluating his assessment of Stefan.
Catching the way he peered at his surroundings, he quickly added, “the town does the the best it can, we don’t have loads of money like cities” as if defending the dilapidated building.
On the other side of town, Alexander was pulling Shuonun along as they trampled through grass, trailed closely behind by the owner of the fields they stole from, a tall woman who was “tired of you kids taking from me, I’m telling your parents!”
Even while threatened, the boy looked to be having the time of his life, laughing whilst trying to catch his breath, worn sneakers threatening to split apart.
"I did not say anything," Stefan said meekly. "I did not insult your library." He hid a little further behind his book.
Shuonun only snickered at the threats. What would his parents do to him that they had not already tried? He prided himself on being impossible to discipline.
"This is wonderful!" he shouted as he and Alex stole into a hiding spot.
Summer, 1987. A dry breeze wafted through dusty Stull, Kansas. That breeze brought little relief to the farmers in the fields wiping the sweat from their brows. It brought little change to the direction of the weather vanes on the barn rooftops. It brought little rustling to the cornstalks in the fields or the leaves on the trees. That breeze blew the Møller family right into town. Colden, Lilla, and their three children had landed in the country less than three hours prior. They had bought a house in Kansas through a friend of a friend. They had needed to leave their home in Paris for... reasons. Reasons the oldest son, Stefan wouldn't reveal except under waterboarding, reasons the younger son, Shuonun, thought were stupid and sort of funny, and reasons the youngest daughter, a bouncing baby girl named Sarpedon, were oblivious to. Stull was to be their new home, much to the chagrin of Shuonun. He was not excited for country life like his parents were. He was not relieved to be in America like his brother was. He was not blissfully ignorant like his six-month-old sister was.
Alexander thanked himself that his parents weren’t farmers, they owned the drug store in the sleepy town, but he felt they had as many kids as most. The town was large enough that the kids weren’t forced to all play with each other in some one-room-schoolhouse but small enough that everybody knew the Pine last name.
Furthermore, everyone knew that a new family was moving to town, and the young boy would be damned if he didn’t see them in person. Pushing his way to the front of the crowd around the house, he took note of the ages of the children, already planning to brag to his younger sister that there was a boy his age.
Watching the mayor welcome the family to town, he rolled his eyes at the over-friendliness from a woman who had yelled at him for climbing a tree an hour prior.
"Good lord," Shuonun murmured. "Is that root beer flavoured ice cream? Could I have root beer flavoured ice cream in root beer? Ludicrous!"
It was then that he noticed a flavour called "French Vanilla" and shook his head. "Nevermind," he said. "I want that one. What are you having?"
Sticky hands and a full face pressed up against the chilled glass for a full two minutes before Alexander declared that he wanted the most colourful ice cream the shop had.
It didn’t seem like it’d be possible to smile bigger than he already was, but when the boy caught sight of his full cup in front of him, he grinned like he’d won the lottery.
“This is crazy, I’ve never been allowed to have a full scoop to myself before, my parents usually make me share with my brother, and he always wants boring flavours…like French vanilla.”
"Why don't you make him get what you want?" Shuonun asked. "Why do you always have to do what he says?"
When he swallowed his first mouthful of root beer his eyes lit up and a devilish smile crossed his face.
"Oh, that is wicked..." he mumbled to himself. "Tellement cool."
Alexander didn’t know what those last few words out of Shuonun’s mouth meant, but he grinned all the less.
Though it might’ve looked odd, the shorter boy wouldn’t stop staring at the still foreigner in front of him. Tilting his head at one point, Alexander couldn’t help but blurt out, “you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met, you kinda just take what you want from life.”
“I think that’s cool, it’s like a superhero, taking charge.”
"If you don't take what you want from life," Shuonun asked, "How will you ever get it?"
He turned to face Alex, still slurping away at his ice cream. "You can't let other people tell you what to do all the time."
Alexander thought about that for a while, finishing his own ice cream. When he looked up again to see Shuonun and noticed how he was practically digging into his dessert rather than spooning it, an idea surfaced to the front of his mind.
“I know I said I’d show you around the clothing shops, but there’s a lady in town with a peach orchard, and some of us kids will sometimes head down there and grab a few to eat then and there. I think you’d like that- have ya ever had food off the vine or straight from a garden?”
Shuonun began to protest. The deal had been that Alex would help him get clothes to blend in. But the promise of fresh fruit was just too enticing.
"Lead the way," he said definitively.
While they walked, he thought of another question. "The woman who owns the tree; doesn't she mind you stealing her fruit?"
Grinning and neglecting to wipe the ice cream on the corners of his smile, Alexander took Shuonun’s clean hand in his sticky one.
Already pulling him out of the shoppe, bell ringing behind them, the shorter boy practically dragged the taller one to the outskirts of town.
“I don’t think she does, and when she yells and chases us with a broom, I don’t think she means it.”
“Her husband shot at me with a gun once, but I think there was just air in there, for scaring the chickens.”
Shuonun's eyes widened. He had never seen a real gun outside of a war memorial or museum. "No way," he murmured. "Is it dangerous?"
Alexander, desperately wanting to sound cool toward someone from the city, nodded. Taking on a solemn tone, he ushered for Shuonun to lean in close before whispering,
“A kid from my class was clean blasted through last month, he came to school with a hole in him!”
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Alexander’s more truthful half was wandering the library. Collin wasn’t protective of his self proclaimed fortress, but he kept note of everyone who entered and left the small building.
The moment he noticed someone he had never seen before, someone close to his age, the shorter boy commenced his routine. Staring until he was noticed.
Stefan didn't feel safe in many places but libraries had never given him trouble before. Back in France, his bibliotheque had been his safe haven. He had spent hours there immersed in old tomes with hardcovers.
This library was different, though. The Stull Public Library had boxes of magezines, paperback novels yellowed with mildew, and old encyclopedias by the dozen. It was much smaller than the library in Marseilles had been but Stefan was certain he could find some peace here too.
At least, he was certain until he noticed the younger boy who was staring him down.
"What do you want?" he asked defensively, holding up the book in his arms like a shield.
Collin had been looking through the fantasy section, a book halfway in his hand, when Stefan noticed him too. Blinking a few times as if he couldn’t be bothered, he eventually cleared his throat with a simple, “you’re new.”
“You’re new and you’re dressed as if you don’t belong here- we don’t sell the type of clothing you’re wearing in town.”
Eyes flicking down to Stefan’s hand as if to see what book, if any, he had in hand, Collin then looked back into his eyes.
“You don’t look like you enjoy talking much either.”
Stefan was holding "Jane Eyre" by Charlotte Bronte in his hands and the way he held it was as if he expected it to protect him from Collin's prodding.
"I don't want any trouble," he said quietly. "If I'm in your way I'll go." The slight French accent he had only slipped out on certain words.
“That’s a good one, Bronte wrote it in rebellion against Victorian critics claiming women should stick to pastoral scenes and high class happenings,” Collin said in return.
“You’re taller than me, if I were to goad you into anything, you’d have me on the ground before I knew it-also, that would be a disrespect to the sacred grounds libraries are.”
He held out his own book, a worn copy of “Moby Dick” that had a few stains on the cover.
“I’ve take it you’ve read this one, one of the classics not taught in school.”
"That's my brother's favourite," said Stefan. He shook his head. "I've never read it. I take it you have?"
He glanced around. This library did not seem like sacred ground. The peeling plaster walls and the squeaky metal shelves felt clinical and new-world to him. He wasn't sure he'd ever derive enough comfort from this place to call it holy ground.
Summer, 1987. A dry breeze wafted through dusty Stull, Kansas. That breeze brought little relief to the farmers in the fields wiping the sweat from their brows. It brought little change to the direction of the weather vanes on the barn rooftops. It brought little rustling to the cornstalks in the fields or the leaves on the trees. That breeze blew the Møller family right into town. Colden, Lilla, and their three children had landed in the country less than three hours prior. They had bought a house in Kansas through a friend of a friend. They had needed to leave their home in Paris for... reasons. Reasons the oldest son, Stefan wouldn't reveal except under waterboarding, reasons the younger son, Shuonun, thought were stupid and sort of funny, and reasons the youngest daughter, a bouncing baby girl named Sarpedon, were oblivious to. Stull was to be their new home, much to the chagrin of Shuonun. He was not excited for country life like his parents were. He was not relieved to be in America like his brother was. He was not blissfully ignorant like his six-month-old sister was.
Alexander thanked himself that his parents weren’t farmers, they owned the drug store in the sleepy town, but he felt they had as many kids as most. The town was large enough that the kids weren’t forced to all play with each other in some one-room-schoolhouse but small enough that everybody knew the Pine last name.
Furthermore, everyone knew that a new family was moving to town, and the young boy would be damned if he didn’t see them in person. Pushing his way to the front of the crowd around the house, he took note of the ages of the children, already planning to brag to his younger sister that there was a boy his age.
Watching the mayor welcome the family to town, he rolled his eyes at the over-friendliness from a woman who had yelled at him for climbing a tree an hour prior.
"Good lord," Shuonun murmured. "Is that root beer flavoured ice cream? Could I have root beer flavoured ice cream in root beer? Ludicrous!"
It was then that he noticed a flavour called "French Vanilla" and shook his head. "Nevermind," he said. "I want that one. What are you having?"
Sticky hands and a full face pressed up against the chilled glass for a full two minutes before Alexander declared that he wanted the most colourful ice cream the shop had.
It didn’t seem like it’d be possible to smile bigger than he already was, but when the boy caught sight of his full cup in front of him, he grinned like he’d won the lottery.
“This is crazy, I’ve never been allowed to have a full scoop to myself before, my parents usually make me share with my brother, and he always wants boring flavours…like French vanilla.”
"Why don't you make him get what you want?" Shuonun asked. "Why do you always have to do what he says?"
When he swallowed his first mouthful of root beer his eyes lit up and a devilish smile crossed his face.
"Oh, that is wicked..." he mumbled to himself. "Tellement cool."
Alexander didn’t know what those last few words out of Shuonun’s mouth meant, but he grinned all the less.
Though it might’ve looked odd, the shorter boy wouldn’t stop staring at the still foreigner in front of him. Tilting his head at one point, Alexander couldn’t help but blurt out, “you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met, you kinda just take what you want from life.”
“I think that’s cool, it’s like a superhero, taking charge.”
"If you don't take what you want from life," Shuonun asked, "How will you ever get it?"
He turned to face Alex, still slurping away at his ice cream. "You can't let other people tell you what to do all the time."
Alexander thought about that for a while, finishing his own ice cream. When he looked up again to see Shuonun and noticed how he was practically digging into his dessert rather than spooning it, an idea surfaced to the front of his mind.
“I know I said I’d show you around the clothing shops, but there’s a lady in town with a peach orchard, and some of us kids will sometimes head down there and grab a few to eat then and there. I think you’d like that- have ya ever had food off the vine or straight from a garden?”
Shuonun began to protest. The deal had been that Alex would help him get clothes to blend in. But the promise of fresh fruit was just too enticing.
"Lead the way," he said definitively.
While they walked, he thought of another question. "The woman who owns the tree; doesn't she mind you stealing her fruit?"
Grinning and neglecting to wipe the ice cream on the corners of his smile, Alexander took Shuonun’s clean hand in his sticky one.
Already pulling him out of the shoppe, bell ringing behind them, the shorter boy practically dragged the taller one to the outskirts of town.
“I don’t think she does, and when she yells and chases us with a broom, I don’t think she means it.”
“Her husband shot at me with a gun once, but I think there was just air in there, for scaring the chickens.”
Shuonun's eyes widened. He had never seen a real gun outside of a war memorial or museum. "No way," he murmured. "Is it dangerous?"
Alexander, desperately wanting to sound cool toward someone from the city, nodded. Taking on a solemn tone, he ushered for Shuonun to lean in close before whispering,
“A kid from my class was clean blasted through last month, he came to school with a hole in him!”
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Alexander’s more truthful half was wandering the library. Collin wasn’t protective of his self proclaimed fortress, but he kept note of everyone who entered and left the small building.
The moment he noticed someone he had never seen before, someone close to his age, the shorter boy commenced his routine. Staring until he was noticed.
Stefan didn't feel safe in many places but libraries had never given him trouble before. Back in France, his bibliotheque had been his safe haven. He had spent hours there immersed in old tomes with hardcovers.
This library was different, though. The Stull Public Library had boxes of magezines, paperback novels yellowed with mildew, and old encyclopedias by the dozen. It was much smaller than the library in Marseilles had been but Stefan was certain he could find some peace here too.
At least, he was certain until he noticed the younger boy who was staring him down.
"What do you want?" he asked defensively, holding up the book in his arms like a shield.
Collin had been looking through the fantasy section, a book halfway in his hand, when Stefan noticed him too. Blinking a few times as if he couldn’t be bothered, he eventually cleared his throat with a simple, “you’re new.”
“You’re new and you’re dressed as if you don’t belong here- we don’t sell the type of clothing you’re wearing in town.”
Eyes flicking down to Stefan’s hand as if to see what book, if any, he had in hand, Collin then looked back into his eyes.
“You don’t look like you enjoy talking much either.”
Stefan was holding "Jane Eyre" by Charlotte Bronte in his hands and the way he held it was as if he expected it to protect him from Collin's prodding.
"I don't want any trouble," he said quietly. "If I'm in your way I'll go." The slight French accent he had only slipped out on certain words.
OC INFO
Name: Dalton Shipring
Birthdate: January 24th 1992
Gender: Male
Pronouns: He/him
Orientation:Gay
Backstory:
Dalton’s parents were very conservative. Growing up he was stifled at every opportunity. His parents were worried he was going to turn out to be a lesbian, and when they were assured he liked men they were relieved, only to find out he was actually a man himself.
When Dalton turned 18, he started going out with Stefan @the-good-brother, the goth guy with long hair and a snake tattoo, who owned the witchcraft store, for, although he didn’t realize at first, pure shock value. In short, he dated Stefan in order to upset his parents. After about a month, it started to wear off, and they had a mutual, easy breakup.
However, in 2019, they reconnected and started going out again. This time, their relationship was founded on actual romance and to this day they’re very happy together.
Dalton confessed to Stefan when they got back together that he knew he was a demon. He could see Stefan’s demon face through his human facade. Confused, they began looking for answers and soon discovered that Dalton was a Nephilim.
Summer, 1987. A dry breeze wafted through dusty Stull, Kansas. That breeze brought little relief to the farmers in the fields wiping the sweat from their brows. It brought little change to the direction of the weather vanes on the barn rooftops. It brought little rustling to the cornstalks in the fields or the leaves on the trees. That breeze blew the Møller family right into town. Colden, Lilla, and their three children had landed in the country less than three hours prior. They had bought a house in Kansas through a friend of a friend. They had needed to leave their home in Paris for... reasons. Reasons the oldest son, Stefan wouldn't reveal except under waterboarding, reasons the younger son, Shuonun, thought were stupid and sort of funny, and reasons the youngest daughter, a bouncing baby girl named Sarpedon, were oblivious to. Stull was to be their new home, much to the chagrin of Shuonun. He was not excited for country life like his parents were. He was not relieved to be in America like his brother was. He was not blissfully ignorant like his six-month-old sister was.
Alexander thanked himself that his parents weren’t farmers, they owned the drug store in the sleepy town, but he felt they had as many kids as most. The town was large enough that the kids weren’t forced to all play with each other in some one-room-schoolhouse but small enough that everybody knew the Pine last name.
Furthermore, everyone knew that a new family was moving to town, and the young boy would be damned if he didn’t see them in person. Pushing his way to the front of the crowd around the house, he took note of the ages of the children, already planning to brag to his younger sister that there was a boy his age.
Watching the mayor welcome the family to town, he rolled his eyes at the over-friendliness from a woman who had yelled at him for climbing a tree an hour prior.
"Good lord," Shuonun murmured. "Is that root beer flavoured ice cream? Could I have root beer flavoured ice cream in root beer? Ludicrous!"
It was then that he noticed a flavour called "French Vanilla" and shook his head. "Nevermind," he said. "I want that one. What are you having?"
Sticky hands and a full face pressed up against the chilled glass for a full two minutes before Alexander declared that he wanted the most colourful ice cream the shop had.
It didn’t seem like it’d be possible to smile bigger than he already was, but when the boy caught sight of his full cup in front of him, he grinned like he’d won the lottery.
“This is crazy, I’ve never been allowed to have a full scoop to myself before, my parents usually make me share with my brother, and he always wants boring flavours…like French vanilla.”
"Why don't you make him get what you want?" Shuonun asked. "Why do you always have to do what he says?"
When he swallowed his first mouthful of root beer his eyes lit up and a devilish smile crossed his face.
"Oh, that is wicked..." he mumbled to himself. "Tellement cool."
Alexander didn’t know what those last few words out of Shuonun’s mouth meant, but he grinned all the less.
Though it might’ve looked odd, the shorter boy wouldn’t stop staring at the still foreigner in front of him. Tilting his head at one point, Alexander couldn’t help but blurt out, “you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met, you kinda just take what you want from life.”
“I think that’s cool, it’s like a superhero, taking charge.”
"If you don't take what you want from life," Shuonun asked, "How will you ever get it?"
He turned to face Alex, still slurping away at his ice cream. "You can't let other people tell you what to do all the time."
Alexander thought about that for a while, finishing his own ice cream. When he looked up again to see Shuonun and noticed how he was practically digging into his dessert rather than spooning it, an idea surfaced to the front of his mind.
“I know I said I’d show you around the clothing shops, but there’s a lady in town with a peach orchard, and some of us kids will sometimes head down there and grab a few to eat then and there. I think you’d like that- have ya ever had food off the vine or straight from a garden?”
Shuonun began to protest. The deal had been that Alex would help him get clothes to blend in. But the promise of fresh fruit was just too enticing.
"Lead the way," he said definitively.
While they walked, he thought of another question. "The woman who owns the tree; doesn't she mind you stealing her fruit?"
Grinning and neglecting to wipe the ice cream on the corners of his smile, Alexander took Shuonun’s clean hand in his sticky one.
Already pulling him out of the shoppe, bell ringing behind them, the shorter boy practically dragged the taller one to the outskirts of town.
“I don’t think she does, and when she yells and chases us with a broom, I don’t think she means it.”
“Her husband shot at me with a gun once, but I think there was just air in there, for scaring the chickens.”
Shuonun's eyes widened. He had never seen a real gun outside of a war memorial or museum. "No way," he murmured. "Is it dangerous?"
Alexander, desperately wanting to sound cool toward someone from the city, nodded. Taking on a solemn tone, he ushered for Shuonun to lean in close before whispering,
“A kid from my class was clean blasted through last month, he came to school with a hole in him!”
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Alexander’s more truthful half was wandering the library. Collin wasn’t protective of his self proclaimed fortress, but he kept note of everyone who entered and left the small building.
The moment he noticed someone he had never seen before, someone close to his age, the shorter boy commenced his routine. Staring until he was noticed.
Stefan didn't feel safe in many places but libraries had never given him trouble before. Back in France, his bibliotheque had been his safe haven. He had spent hours there immersed in old tomes with hardcovers.
This library was different, though. The Stull Public Library had boxes of magezines, paperback novels yellowed with mildew, and old encyclopedias by the dozen. It was much smaller than the library in Marseilles had been but Stefan was certain he could find some peace here too.
At least, he was certain until he noticed the younger boy who was staring him down.
"What do you want?" he asked defensively, holding up the book in his arms like a shield.
Shuonun traipsed off stage with a grin as big as his face plastered on. He was completely and utterly wiped out as he crashed into the arms of his agent.
"Alex, can't you hear them?" he gasped out. "They're still screaming out there. My name. Over and over. My name. Holy shit. I see spots. I need a drink."
Shuonun and Alex had been business partners for a couple of years. Shuonun was the face of the operation, and to his fans he was practically a god, but he was nothing without Alex to advocate for him, to sort out his contracts, to organize the tours where his fans could throw themselves at him in glorious fits of insane devotion.
He had never voiced it before, but the man was his own personal hero.
And he was easy on the eyes too.
Alexander didn’t say much, tensing up as Shuonun crashed into him. Even though he mourned the loss of the crispness of his suit now that the taller man had wrinkled it, he didn’t comment on it.
Shuonun at the moment was one of the biggest names not only in Hollywood but practically worldwide, and Alexander didn’t take jealousy in that. Instead, he simply did his job and tilted his head down whenever someone recognised him from a press conference or video that Alexander kept advising his client against.
Motioning for one of the stage hands to find Shuonun some water, the brand he liked to be exact, he then motioned to another to get the car. Although they weren’t in view of any fans, he still knew their ability to somehow sneak backstage.
It had happened countless times by now, usually a crazed individual claiming they’d name their child after the man if he’d sign an autograph. To everyone, Shuonun was a god, and his voice the answer to all.
Shaking the thought of Shuonun possibly being in danger, Alexander mumbled something before speaking up with a, “we were supposed to be on the road by now…you can’t do oncores every time, your next set of fans will be…upset that you’re late.”
Alexander wanted to use stronger words than that, rip into Shuonun, but he didn’t; he was paid handsomely to work for the star, and he’d known him before fame.
@hellachaotic
Shuonun stepped into the door and practically directly into his mother's arms. With a bashful smile, he leaned into her embrace and listened to her chastise him for having been gone so long.
Shuonun's father went right for Alex, hand outstretched to help him with his bag immediately. "Alex," he said cheerfully. "Alex! It's been way too long. I swear you've grown."
Alexander was still shy, even in groups of people that he knew, which is why his face flushed with a, “oh uhm…I don’t know, I shouldn’t be growing?” as he struggled to understand the joke.
However, that didn’t stop him from handing a bouquet over to Lilla after introductions with a, “least I could do, beautiful flowers for a beautiful home.”
Not used to not being Shuonun’s agent everywhere, he watched as the other man interacted with family and his home, for once feeling like the one without knowledge. This extended to dinner, sitting and staring at the table full of people with some sort of awe and tentativeness; afraid to speak as if he’d be kicked out if his presence were known, he listened to Shuonun take credit for his stardom with a small smile.
Alex was sat between Shuonun brothers. Stefan, his older brother, knew Alex well. Sarpedon, who was nearly five years younger than Shuonun, knew Alex as more of a poltergeist figure, his elusive big brother's sidekick. As a result, he was fascinated by him.
"Alex," he asked through half a mouthful. "Shuonun kind of lucked into working with you because you grew up together. You got any colleagues you can put in touch with me?"
“Hm? Oh…I don’t really think you’d want that, and a college education is worth far more than anything else,” he responded quickly, as if that were the response he gave all of Shuonun’s fans and lower level stars.
However, what he always wanted to do was take the person by the shoulders and yell at them until his mouth bled to never say that, as if the very thought of wanting to be a star would curse you to endless nights and a drug fuelled death.
Furthermore, while Shuonun and him grew up together, their current relationship was far from that of childhood. In fact, Alexander was the loud one as a kid, constantly told to stop tearing through the halls and drawing on furniture. He didn’t mourn that time though, happy to be financially stable and in charge of something while the rest of his life crumbled around him.
As the dinner progressed, he found himself drawn in by the conversations, happy to witness something so real after realising that no celebrity actually voiced their thoughts on things he found important. No matter how imperfect an average conversation was, it was raw and that’s what mattered to Alexander.
"What do you want one of Alex's colleagues for?" asked Shuonun.
Sarpedon opened his mouth to answer, but Colden beat him to it. The man was simply bursting with pride as he said, "He's an artist! Kiddo, you should show Shuonun your paintings after supper." Clearly having one impossibly famous child had not desensitized him to fatherly pride. "They're amazing," he beamed.
Sarpedon looked aways with a bashful sort of smile.
Shuonun smiled weakly, trying to ignore the gnawing in his stomach. He knew he had been gone too long this time.
Alexander noticed the look on Shuonun’s face almost immediately, so accustomed his every move and emotion he was. However, he wasn’t able to figure out exactly why the star seemed to care about missing family events when he refused to see his family whenever his agent brought it up.
As if to test him, Alexander glanced at the man before turning to Colden with a quiet, in that case, I’d be happy to reach out and connect Sarpedon with someone.”
Once dinner was over and Shuonun was dragged off to catch up with his siblings, Alexander busied himself helping clear the table and wash the dishes, insisting that, “it’s the least I can do.” As if expecting the star’s parents to ask him questions, he cleared the air with a, “it’s been far too long, I expect you have things to ask me about-I’ve been trying my best to keep him steady and safe.”
"Thank you," breathed Lilla. "You were always a good kid. He needs someone like you in his life. You don't need to tell me what a handful he is, I'm his mother. I know."
"I saw a video of him a few weeks ago," said Colden. "On the news. Some teenage girl broke into his hotel room and livestreamed the whole thing?" Colden seemed... tired as he spoke. As if he worried so much and so frequently about his son that it was hard to keep track of what was bothering the most. Now that Shuonun was out of the room, it was okay to show it.
Alexander paused before setting a washed dish on the drying towel, wanting to pretend that he didn’t fail at keeping the story private. As he vowed to keep a closer eye on Shuonun and hire more security, he turned to them with a Hollywood winning smile and a reassuring, “oh, small happenstance. I’m sure her parents talked to her afterwards, and she left soon after the incident-nothing was taken, and Shuonun was fine.”
Noticing how tired the star’s parents looked, Alexander did what he usually did whenever someone approached him with that look in their eyes- he pretended he wasn’t seeing it. He stood up straight, as if by acting professional, he could will everyone else to do as well, skirt around problems too big to solve in favour of fake, “doing well”’s and, “I’m not tired”’s.
However, he soon enough couldn’t handle it, feeling the frustration and worry of Shuonun’s parents start to choke him. Taking his leave with a quiet, “I’m so sorry, I’m a little tired”, he climbed the stairs to the guest room and gazed at his suitcases.
It wasn't Colden or Lilla that followed Alex into the guest room. Shuonun's older brother, Stefan, was soon behind him.
"Sorry," he said as he kicked the door shut. "This couldn't wait."
He pointed to Alex's bed and told him to "Sit."
Alexander raised a brow at Stefan shutting the door but didn’t say anything of it. Although he wasn’t a fan of being alone in closed rooms, having faced too many of Shuonun’s crazed fans, he also trusted the other man.
Therefore, he sat down on the bed before looking up at Stefan expectantly, as if trying to figure out what he was going to say before he said it. He didn’t want to be impolite and tell the other man not to ask him about his brother, but he also knew that was his duty-Shuonun’s agent he became long ago, and Shuonun’s caretaker he was now.
It seemed Stefan had no questions for Alex about Shuonun. No, he took on a much more serious tone as he said,
"I love you Alex, and you're a good kid. You always have been, even back when you and Shuonun met. But my god, if you ever insinuate that you'll find my little brother an agent again I will kill you with my bare hands. I have already lost Shuonun to the cult of personality and I will not lose Sarpedon too. Now, I don't blame you for Shuonun. He was always a wild horse. I don't know if he ever had another option. But Sarpedon does, and if you want him you'll have to pry him from my cold dead fingers."
Rant over, Stefan deflated a little. He teetered on his heels, grimacing apologetically at Alex.
"Sorry, I'm sorry. That came out meaner than I meant it."
Alexander couldn’t help but laugh at that with a somewhat sad, “I’m more like an agent of death than anything else, huh?”
“I didn’t mean what I said to your brother, I wanted to provoke a reaction from Shuonun in all honesty. Besides, I make that half baked promise to the parents of most kids I meet, and not once has anyone ever followed up.
People like hearing that their kid is special enough to he known beyond the family, but nobody likes the truth.”
Rising to his feet, Alexander swallowed hard before walking up to Stefan with a whispered, “sometimes, I wish the legion of fans your brother has would swarm me and run me over-I wouldn’t want them to leave anything either, no body for my parents to look over and press to take gross photos of for publicity.”
“If you think that statement was awful, think about what caused me to even say it-I wouldn’t do that to your family, Stefan, I’ve seen what stardom has done to others.”
"Have you told Shuonun this?" he asked softly. "Don't you think he'd cut you loose if he knew how bad it really was for you?"
Stefan put a hand on Alexa shoulder. In that moment, he looked how he once had, the big brother of Alex's friend trying to pass on some kind of advice.
Shuonun traipsed off stage with a grin as big as his face plastered on. He was completely and utterly wiped out as he crashed into the arms of his agent.
"Alex, can't you hear them?" he gasped out. "They're still screaming out there. My name. Over and over. My name. Holy shit. I see spots. I need a drink."
Shuonun and Alex had been business partners for a couple of years. Shuonun was the face of the operation, and to his fans he was practically a god, but he was nothing without Alex to advocate for him, to sort out his contracts, to organize the tours where his fans could throw themselves at him in glorious fits of insane devotion.
He had never voiced it before, but the man was his own personal hero.
And he was easy on the eyes too.
Alexander didn’t say much, tensing up as Shuonun crashed into him. Even though he mourned the loss of the crispness of his suit now that the taller man had wrinkled it, he didn’t comment on it.
Shuonun at the moment was one of the biggest names not only in Hollywood but practically worldwide, and Alexander didn’t take jealousy in that. Instead, he simply did his job and tilted his head down whenever someone recognised him from a press conference or video that Alexander kept advising his client against.
Motioning for one of the stage hands to find Shuonun some water, the brand he liked to be exact, he then motioned to another to get the car. Although they weren’t in view of any fans, he still knew their ability to somehow sneak backstage.
It had happened countless times by now, usually a crazed individual claiming they’d name their child after the man if he’d sign an autograph. To everyone, Shuonun was a god, and his voice the answer to all.
Shaking the thought of Shuonun possibly being in danger, Alexander mumbled something before speaking up with a, “we were supposed to be on the road by now…you can’t do oncores every time, your next set of fans will be…upset that you’re late.”
Alexander wanted to use stronger words than that, rip into Shuonun, but he didn’t; he was paid handsomely to work for the star, and he’d known him before fame.
@hellachaotic
Shuonun stepped into the door and practically directly into his mother's arms. With a bashful smile, he leaned into her embrace and listened to her chastise him for having been gone so long.
Shuonun's father went right for Alex, hand outstretched to help him with his bag immediately. "Alex," he said cheerfully. "Alex! It's been way too long. I swear you've grown."
Alexander was still shy, even in groups of people that he knew, which is why his face flushed with a, “oh uhm…I don’t know, I shouldn’t be growing?” as he struggled to understand the joke.
However, that didn’t stop him from handing a bouquet over to Lilla after introductions with a, “least I could do, beautiful flowers for a beautiful home.”
Not used to not being Shuonun’s agent everywhere, he watched as the other man interacted with family and his home, for once feeling like the one without knowledge. This extended to dinner, sitting and staring at the table full of people with some sort of awe and tentativeness; afraid to speak as if he’d be kicked out if his presence were known, he listened to Shuonun take credit for his stardom with a small smile.
Alex was sat between Shuonun brothers. Stefan, his older brother, knew Alex well. Sarpedon, who was nearly five years younger than Shuonun, knew Alex as more of a poltergeist figure, his elusive big brother's sidekick. As a result, he was fascinated by him.
"Alex," he asked through half a mouthful. "Shuonun kind of lucked into working with you because you grew up together. You got any colleagues you can put in touch with me?"
“Hm? Oh…I don’t really think you’d want that, and a college education is worth far more than anything else,” he responded quickly, as if that were the response he gave all of Shuonun’s fans and lower level stars.
However, what he always wanted to do was take the person by the shoulders and yell at them until his mouth bled to never say that, as if the very thought of wanting to be a star would curse you to endless nights and a drug fuelled death.
Furthermore, while Shuonun and him grew up together, their current relationship was far from that of childhood. In fact, Alexander was the loud one as a kid, constantly told to stop tearing through the halls and drawing on furniture. He didn’t mourn that time though, happy to be financially stable and in charge of something while the rest of his life crumbled around him.
As the dinner progressed, he found himself drawn in by the conversations, happy to witness something so real after realising that no celebrity actually voiced their thoughts on things he found important. No matter how imperfect an average conversation was, it was raw and that’s what mattered to Alexander.
"What do you want one of Alex's colleagues for?" asked Shuonun.
Sarpedon opened his mouth to answer, but Colden beat him to it. The man was simply bursting with pride as he said, "He's an artist! Kiddo, you should show Shuonun your paintings after supper." Clearly having one impossibly famous child had not desensitized him to fatherly pride. "They're amazing," he beamed.
Sarpedon looked aways with a bashful sort of smile.
Shuonun smiled weakly, trying to ignore the gnawing in his stomach. He knew he had been gone too long this time.
Alexander noticed the look on Shuonun’s face almost immediately, so accustomed his every move and emotion he was. However, he wasn’t able to figure out exactly why the star seemed to care about missing family events when he refused to see his family whenever his agent brought it up.
As if to test him, Alexander glanced at the man before turning to Colden with a quiet, in that case, I’d be happy to reach out and connect Sarpedon with someone.”
Once dinner was over and Shuonun was dragged off to catch up with his siblings, Alexander busied himself helping clear the table and wash the dishes, insisting that, “it’s the least I can do.” As if expecting the star’s parents to ask him questions, he cleared the air with a, “it’s been far too long, I expect you have things to ask me about-I’ve been trying my best to keep him steady and safe.”
"Thank you," breathed Lilla. "You were always a good kid. He needs someone like you in his life. You don't need to tell me what a handful he is, I'm his mother. I know."
"I saw a video of him a few weeks ago," said Colden. "On the news. Some teenage girl broke into his hotel room and livestreamed the whole thing?" Colden seemed... tired as he spoke. As if he worried so much and so frequently about his son that it was hard to keep track of what was bothering the most. Now that Shuonun was out of the room, it was okay to show it.
Alexander paused before setting a washed dish on the drying towel, wanting to pretend that he didn’t fail at keeping the story private. As he vowed to keep a closer eye on Shuonun and hire more security, he turned to them with a Hollywood winning smile and a reassuring, “oh, small happenstance. I’m sure her parents talked to her afterwards, and she left soon after the incident-nothing was taken, and Shuonun was fine.”
Noticing how tired the star’s parents looked, Alexander did what he usually did whenever someone approached him with that look in their eyes- he pretended he wasn’t seeing it. He stood up straight, as if by acting professional, he could will everyone else to do as well, skirt around problems too big to solve in favour of fake, “doing well”’s and, “I’m not tired”’s.
However, he soon enough couldn’t handle it, feeling the frustration and worry of Shuonun’s parents start to choke him. Taking his leave with a quiet, “I’m so sorry, I’m a little tired”, he climbed the stairs to the guest room and gazed at his suitcases.
It wasn't Colden or Lilla that followed Alex into the guest room. Shuonun's older brother, Stefan, was soon behind him.
"Sorry," he said as he kicked the door shut. "This couldn't wait."
He pointed to Alex's bed and told him to "Sit."
Alexander raised a brow at Stefan shutting the door but didn’t say anything of it. Although he wasn’t a fan of being alone in closed rooms, having faced too many of Shuonun’s crazed fans, he also trusted the other man.
Therefore, he sat down on the bed before looking up at Stefan expectantly, as if trying to figure out what he was going to say before he said it. He didn’t want to be impolite and tell the other man not to ask him about his brother, but he also knew that was his duty-Shuonun’s agent he became long ago, and Shuonun’s caretaker he was now.
It seemed Stefan had no questions for Alex about Shuonun. No, he took on a much more serious tone as he said,
"I love you Alex, and you're a good kid. You always have been, even back when you and Shuonun met. But my god, if you ever insinuate that you'll find my little brother an agent again I will kill you with my bare hands. I have already lost Shuonun to the cult of personality and I will not lose Sarpedon too. Now, I don't blame you for Shuonun. He was always a wild horse. I don't know if he ever had another option. But Sarpedon does, and if you want him you'll have to pry him from my cold dead fingers."
Rant over, Stefan deflated a little. He teetered on his heels, grimacing apologetically at Alex.
"Sorry, I'm sorry. That came out meaner than I meant it."
Shuonun traipsed off stage with a grin as big as his face plastered on. He was completely and utterly wiped out as he crashed into the arms of his agent.
"Alex, can't you hear them?" he gasped out. "They're still screaming out there. My name. Over and over. My name. Holy shit. I see spots. I need a drink."
Shuonun and Alex had been business partners for a couple of years. Shuonun was the face of the operation, and to his fans he was practically a god, but he was nothing without Alex to advocate for him, to sort out his contracts, to organize the tours where his fans could throw themselves at him in glorious fits of insane devotion.
He had never voiced it before, but the man was his own personal hero.
And he was easy on the eyes too.
Alexander didn’t say much, tensing up as Shuonun crashed into him. Even though he mourned the loss of the crispness of his suit now that the taller man had wrinkled it, he didn’t comment on it.
Shuonun at the moment was one of the biggest names not only in Hollywood but practically worldwide, and Alexander didn’t take jealousy in that. Instead, he simply did his job and tilted his head down whenever someone recognised him from a press conference or video that Alexander kept advising his client against.
Motioning for one of the stage hands to find Shuonun some water, the brand he liked to be exact, he then motioned to another to get the car. Although they weren’t in view of any fans, he still knew their ability to somehow sneak backstage.
It had happened countless times by now, usually a crazed individual claiming they’d name their child after the man if he’d sign an autograph. To everyone, Shuonun was a god, and his voice the answer to all.
Shaking the thought of Shuonun possibly being in danger, Alexander mumbled something before speaking up with a, “we were supposed to be on the road by now…you can’t do oncores every time, your next set of fans will be…upset that you’re late.”
Alexander wanted to use stronger words than that, rip into Shuonun, but he didn’t; he was paid handsomely to work for the star, and he’d known him before fame.
@hellachaotic
Shuonun stepped into the door and practically directly into his mother's arms. With a bashful smile, he leaned into her embrace and listened to her chastise him for having been gone so long.
Shuonun's father went right for Alex, hand outstretched to help him with his bag immediately. "Alex," he said cheerfully. "Alex! It's been way too long. I swear you've grown."
Alexander was still shy, even in groups of people that he knew, which is why his face flushed with a, “oh uhm…I don’t know, I shouldn’t be growing?” as he struggled to understand the joke.
However, that didn’t stop him from handing a bouquet over to Lilla after introductions with a, “least I could do, beautiful flowers for a beautiful home.”
Not used to not being Shuonun’s agent everywhere, he watched as the other man interacted with family and his home, for once feeling like the one without knowledge. This extended to dinner, sitting and staring at the table full of people with some sort of awe and tentativeness; afraid to speak as if he’d be kicked out if his presence were known, he listened to Shuonun take credit for his stardom with a small smile.
Alex was sat between Shuonun brothers. Stefan, his older brother, knew Alex well. Sarpedon, who was nearly five years younger than Shuonun, knew Alex as more of a poltergeist figure, his elusive big brother's sidekick. As a result, he was fascinated by him.
"Alex," he asked through half a mouthful. "Shuonun kind of lucked into working with you because you grew up together. You got any colleagues you can put in touch with me?"
“Hm? Oh…I don’t really think you’d want that, and a college education is worth far more than anything else,” he responded quickly, as if that were the response he gave all of Shuonun’s fans and lower level stars.
However, what he always wanted to do was take the person by the shoulders and yell at them until his mouth bled to never say that, as if the very thought of wanting to be a star would curse you to endless nights and a drug fuelled death.
Furthermore, while Shuonun and him grew up together, their current relationship was far from that of childhood. In fact, Alexander was the loud one as a kid, constantly told to stop tearing through the halls and drawing on furniture. He didn’t mourn that time though, happy to be financially stable and in charge of something while the rest of his life crumbled around him.
As the dinner progressed, he found himself drawn in by the conversations, happy to witness something so real after realising that no celebrity actually voiced their thoughts on things he found important. No matter how imperfect an average conversation was, it was raw and that’s what mattered to Alexander.
"What do you want one of Alex's colleagues for?" asked Shuonun.
Sarpedon opened his mouth to answer, but Colden beat him to it. The man was simply bursting with pride as he said, "He's an artist! Kiddo, you should show Shuonun your paintings after supper." Clearly having one impossibly famous child had not desensitized him to fatherly pride. "They're amazing," he beamed.
Sarpedon looked aways with a bashful sort of smile.
Shuonun smiled weakly, trying to ignore the gnawing in his stomach. He knew he had been gone too long this time.
Alexander noticed the look on Shuonun’s face almost immediately, so accustomed his every move and emotion he was. However, he wasn’t able to figure out exactly why the star seemed to care about missing family events when he refused to see his family whenever his agent brought it up.
As if to test him, Alexander glanced at the man before turning to Colden with a quiet, in that case, I’d be happy to reach out and connect Sarpedon with someone.”
Once dinner was over and Shuonun was dragged off to catch up with his siblings, Alexander busied himself helping clear the table and wash the dishes, insisting that, “it’s the least I can do.” As if expecting the star’s parents to ask him questions, he cleared the air with a, “it’s been far too long, I expect you have things to ask me about-I’ve been trying my best to keep him steady and safe.”
"Thank you," breathed Lilla. "You were always a good kid. He needs someone like you in his life. You don't need to tell me what a handful he is, I'm his mother. I know."
"I saw a video of him a few weeks ago," said Colden. "On the news. Some teenage girl broke into his hotel room and livestreamed the whole thing?" Colden seemed... tired as he spoke. As if he worried so much and so frequently about his son that it was hard to keep track of what was bothering the most. Now that Shuonun was out of the room, it was okay to show it.
Alexander paused before setting a washed dish on the drying towel, wanting to pretend that he didn’t fail at keeping the story private. As he vowed to keep a closer eye on Shuonun and hire more security, he turned to them with a Hollywood winning smile and a reassuring, “oh, small happenstance. I’m sure her parents talked to her afterwards, and she left soon after the incident-nothing was taken, and Shuonun was fine.”
Noticing how tired the star’s parents looked, Alexander did what he usually did whenever someone approached him with that look in their eyes- he pretended he wasn’t seeing it. He stood up straight, as if by acting professional, he could will everyone else to do as well, skirt around problems too big to solve in favour of fake, “doing well”’s and, “I’m not tired”’s.
However, he soon enough couldn’t handle it, feeling the frustration and worry of Shuonun’s parents start to choke him. Taking his leave with a quiet, “I’m so sorry, I’m a little tired”, he climbed the stairs to the guest room and gazed at his suitcases.
It wasn't Colden or Lilla that followed Alex into the guest room. Shuonun's older brother, Stefan, was soon behind him.
"Sorry," he said as he kicked the door shut. "This couldn't wait."
He pointed to Alex's bed and told him to "Sit."
Hazel had been living in the cave high on that mountain for a long time now. She couldn't even keep track at this point, but she told herself it was necessary. She hadn't meant to hurt anyone, but she couldn't control it. It seemed her fear made it worse, too, so staying hidden away from everyone was best. At least for everyone except her.
Stefan had been searching for weeks for the girl with magical powers. He figured he was close as he stalked up the mountain. He wasn't like some whom sought her for selfish reasons. He wanted to meet her because he felt he could help her.
May watched her complete the spell raptly. This time, it was a success.
"Hazel, that is a stable ball of.water you've got there," she said softly. "You just conjured it out of the air. Congratulations."
"I-" Hazel paused, looking at it. "I did..." A smile slowly crept onto her face, realizing she succeeded.
"Proud of you, girlie. Now throw it at Stefan," she grinned.
Stefan had his back turned on the other side of the cave.
Hazel smiled brightly, before her expression turned to one of shock. She looked over at Stefan, then back at May.
"It'll be so funny, do it before he looks!"
Hazel looked back at Stefan, then back at May, hesitant about listening to her.
"Come on, Hazel!"
Hazel was much too nervous to actually listen to May about this. "That seems mean."
"That's the point," she grinned.
"But that'd be rude, he's been nice." Hazel seemed puzzled over the point as she said that, looking back over to Stefan.
"But we're all friends here so it would be funny!"
Hazel hesitated a moment longer, before the sphere of water went flying at Stefan.
It hit, and exploded against his back.
"Gah!" he screamed (in the gayest voice May had ever heard come out of him.)
May doubled over in laughter.
Hazel had to press her hand to her mouth to keep from bursting out laughing at how Stefan reacted.
"The fuck was that for?!"
"Oh my GOD your FACE!" laughed May. "Hazel, do it again!"
Hazel had been living in the cave high on that mountain for a long time now. She couldn't even keep track at this point, but she told herself it was necessary. She hadn't meant to hurt anyone, but she couldn't control it. It seemed her fear made it worse, too, so staying hidden away from everyone was best. At least for everyone except her.
Stefan had been searching for weeks for the girl with magical powers. He figured he was close as he stalked up the mountain. He wasn't like some whom sought her for selfish reasons. He wanted to meet her because he felt he could help her.
May watched her complete the spell raptly. This time, it was a success.
"Hazel, that is a stable ball of.water you've got there," she said softly. "You just conjured it out of the air. Congratulations."
"I-" Hazel paused, looking at it. "I did..." A smile slowly crept onto her face, realizing she succeeded.
"Proud of you, girlie. Now throw it at Stefan," she grinned.
Stefan had his back turned on the other side of the cave.
Hazel smiled brightly, before her expression turned to one of shock. She looked over at Stefan, then back at May.
"It'll be so funny, do it before he looks!"
Hazel looked back at Stefan, then back at May, hesitant about listening to her.
"Come on, Hazel!"
Hazel was much too nervous to actually listen to May about this. "That seems mean."
"That's the point," she grinned.
"But that'd be rude, he's been nice." Hazel seemed puzzled over the point as she said that, looking back over to Stefan.
"But we're all friends here so it would be funny!"
Hazel hesitated a moment longer, before the sphere of water went flying at Stefan.
It hit, and exploded against his back.
"Gah!" he screamed (in the gayest voice May had ever heard come out of him.)
May doubled over in laughter.
Hazel had been living in the cave high on that mountain for a long time now. She couldn't even keep track at this point, but she told herself it was necessary. She hadn't meant to hurt anyone, but she couldn't control it. It seemed her fear made it worse, too, so staying hidden away from everyone was best. At least for everyone except her.
Stefan had been searching for weeks for the girl with magical powers. He figured he was close as he stalked up the mountain. He wasn't like some whom sought her for selfish reasons. He wanted to meet her because he felt he could help her.
May watched her complete the spell raptly. This time, it was a success.
"Hazel, that is a stable ball of.water you've got there," she said softly. "You just conjured it out of the air. Congratulations."
"I-" Hazel paused, looking at it. "I did..." A smile slowly crept onto her face, realizing she succeeded.
"Proud of you, girlie. Now throw it at Stefan," she grinned.
Stefan had his back turned on the other side of the cave.
Hazel smiled brightly, before her expression turned to one of shock. She looked over at Stefan, then back at May.
"It'll be so funny, do it before he looks!"
Hazel looked back at Stefan, then back at May, hesitant about listening to her.
"Come on, Hazel!"
Hazel was much too nervous to actually listen to May about this. "That seems mean."
"That's the point," she grinned.
"But that'd be rude, he's been nice." Hazel seemed puzzled over the point as she said that, looking back over to Stefan.
"But we're all friends here so it would be funny!"
Hazel had been living in the cave high on that mountain for a long time now. She couldn't even keep track at this point, but she told herself it was necessary. She hadn't meant to hurt anyone, but she couldn't control it. It seemed her fear made it worse, too, so staying hidden away from everyone was best. At least for everyone except her.
Stefan had been searching for weeks for the girl with magical powers. He figured he was close as he stalked up the mountain. He wasn't like some whom sought her for selfish reasons. He wanted to meet her because he felt he could help her.
May watched her complete the spell raptly. This time, it was a success.
"Hazel, that is a stable ball of.water you've got there," she said softly. "You just conjured it out of the air. Congratulations."
"I-" Hazel paused, looking at it. "I did..." A smile slowly crept onto her face, realizing she succeeded.
"Proud of you, girlie. Now throw it at Stefan," she grinned.
Stefan had his back turned on the other side of the cave.
Hazel smiled brightly, before her expression turned to one of shock. She looked over at Stefan, then back at May.
"It'll be so funny, do it before he looks!"
Hazel looked back at Stefan, then back at May, hesitant about listening to her.
"Come on, Hazel!"
Hazel was much too nervous to actually listen to May about this. "That seems mean."
"That's the point," she grinned.
Hazel had been living in the cave high on that mountain for a long time now. She couldn't even keep track at this point, but she told herself it was necessary. She hadn't meant to hurt anyone, but she couldn't control it. It seemed her fear made it worse, too, so staying hidden away from everyone was best. At least for everyone except her.
Stefan had been searching for weeks for the girl with magical powers. He figured he was close as he stalked up the mountain. He wasn't like some whom sought her for selfish reasons. He wanted to meet her because he felt he could help her.
May watched her complete the spell raptly. This time, it was a success.
"Hazel, that is a stable ball of.water you've got there," she said softly. "You just conjured it out of the air. Congratulations."
"I-" Hazel paused, looking at it. "I did..." A smile slowly crept onto her face, realizing she succeeded.
"Proud of you, girlie. Now throw it at Stefan," she grinned.
Stefan had his back turned on the other side of the cave.
Hazel smiled brightly, before her expression turned to one of shock. She looked over at Stefan, then back at May.
"It'll be so funny, do it before he looks!"
Hazel looked back at Stefan, then back at May, hesitant about listening to her.
"Come on, Hazel!"
