abbi white

Riley’s attention was drawn to the girls nails on the counter, the noise making her edge towards annoyance at its repeated pattern. Abbi was acting weird. She pocketed the thought as the other asked her about her activities. “Well, if I was smart probably but this girl decided she would sink all her money into a house that wants to fall apart around her. So my free time is now crunching numbers time and wishing for a social life again.” She puts her arms above her head as she stretched, her back cracking with relief. It’d been a while since she’d moved from her spot, crunching numbers and surfing websites for ideas. “Are you high?” she openly asks, looking at Abbi’s eyes to try see if she could see signs of it. Given the other’s fidgeting and having an all night out she pictured it must have been a wild night. Do you want me to make you some munchies?”

♡

High. Now, high would make sense. Abbi wanted to be high. She wanted to scramble towards her pre-grinded stash and prepare her next bowl, but that would raise some suspicion, wouldn’t it? To come home at a peculiar hour only to smoke some more? Even Riley wasn’t that dense. She nodded towards her new project as a faint smile trickled along her lips. She wanted to be supportive, but still felt bound to her night whisked away in a vampire’s arms. Willingly, she had to remind herself. All the quaking fear only came when their contact broke. She was calm the entire night up until she stood in her own home, realizing what she had done to herself. Would she continue to offer her neck up for substance? 

Despite the amount of alcohol she already had within her system, once she felt Abbi’s touch against her shoulder, she was able to fully focus on the other woman, nodding at her words. “Of course, don’t worry about it. I was going to call myself an Uber back home because I don’t think it’s safe to walk my way back home by myself, but if you want, we can do it. I don’t mind,” it was just a few blocks, but alone she would feel unsafe. Even if she could handle herself, she would only be able to defend herself with her power. Which reminded Laurel that she should go through some self-defense classes.

And with that, she waited, leaning her back against the façade once again, while her light eyes would watch a few cars pass by and people make their way back home, whether it was by themselves or with someone else. It was interesting how, at night, streets seemed mysterious. Frightening something, but there was this beauty in it. Or maybe this was just her drunk self being mesmerized by everything.

♡

❝      We can walk. You know, when I was first married, El put me through these stupid training drills to try to prepare me for the real world. I thought it was cute, you know? He didn’t want to just protect me, but helped me learn to protect myself. I’m by no means strong. But I know how to flip a guy on his back. Maybe, I could show you, sometime?      ❞    Abbi posed the question as if Laurel would want to hang out with her sober. One could hope. She was quick to close her tab, exiting the bar as the cool air bit against her dark skin. 

She tried to keep herself leveled. A warmth blossomed in her bones as she continued to walk. Part of her wanted to shed the jacket over her shoulders, but she knew better. The night would only grow colder. And honestly, the teacher wasn’t sure where Laurel lived. Car lights danced across their bodies as they passed slowly. Her heeled boots clicked against the concrete as the woman freely held a bottle of wine beside her. She wondered if they would be stopped by the police for such a little thing. Surely not, right? Astoria PD had enough on their hands in preparation for the full moon. 

Zakary cocked an eyebrow, listening to her words as even she wondered at their meaning, or how they came off. He was certain she had no way to explain herself. Something rattled her and she considered this place to be dangerous. Perhaps because they were far enough in the woods, perhaps because of the house Zakary had found. He knew he could take care of himself however, he knew nothing would bother him as well. So he shrugged. Despite everything though, Zakary had always been the type of person who liked to show off, especially when first he got the Magic the Spirit had. When he found himself powerful for the first time in his life. “Practicing Magic,” he said, almost smugly.

♡

It was strange that the idea of magic stilled her heart so. Magic was the least harmful of all the supernatural she encountered. It was sneaky, brought forth in rituals that could counter against religion. It was something beautiful if taken only in that context. To say Zakary practiced magic meant that she stumbled into something worse than imaginable. But perhaps, he meant the type of magic where he’d pull an adorable bunny from his hat. Of course, she couldn’t discredit all types of magic. What kind of teacher would she be?  

▬

The attempt to get the woman’s attention was far from being unattainable, or the confidence Charlotte usually emanated made sure to keep that thought within herself while her eyes watch the scenario unfold in front of her. Despite never holding onto expectations, it was enticing to contemplate it all working on her favor. And then, the woman was finally there, offering a response that caused Charlie to smile. 

“Oh, I know. But it worked anyway, didn’t it?” Even if the other part was mostly seeing in the shapeshifter a friend or a stranger to talk to at the bar that night, Charlie would accept it nonetheless. Her main go, aside from flirting, was obtaining any information about Castor. In case the woman actually knew him, in case she was right about her assumptions.

“It’s one of my favorite drinks in here, so hopefully, I made a good choice for you as well,” though Charlie would usually go for beer. It was still a good drink, one that sometimes made it worth to let go of her usual order. “I’m Charlotte, but call me Charlie,” leaning closer to offer her name, so neither the music nor conversations would cause disturbance for that information to be delivered to her. 

♡

Abbi was never confident in herself or really anything she put her mind to. She knew she could do something well, but the idea of gaining praise for it always restricted her. Flirting was a game that most enjoyed playing. They could toss up a compliment and wait for the other person to respond. A joke here and there. It was supposed to be fun. Why did it make her hands slick with sweat? She felt a subtle tremble in her index finger as she tried to resist the gut-punch urge to tap against the table. It was easier to manage her anxiety in three’s. 

❝      And here I was a rosé girl myself.      ❞    She moved her cup to her lips again, parting for relief in her senses. Normally, she wouldn’t be out. With how mismanaged her life was, funds for drinks were rarely traded. She made it a habit for herself lately to go out more. Abbi wasn’t sure what she was running from. Perhaps, the ghost that showed up at this very bar still bothered her. She wanted to say she was a better person than she was five years ago, but now? She wasn’t sure. Who could ever be sure? 

Abbi probably didn’t remember how it started. Miles wasn’t sure either. 

Or maybe they were with a group of people with the alcohol flowing. Abbi said something about supernaturals that rubbed like sandpaper on his skin. Miles fired back. That could be it. 

Either way, the two neighbors kept the cold war going between passing glares in the hall of their apartment building. Sometimes at the mailbox too. “Oh yes, I know I wouldn’t find anything interesting there,” he replied with a faint smile. 

There wasn’t anything worse than pretending to play nice without a reason. They made the attempt when James was around. But why would Abbi do it when no one was watching? It made Miles a bit suspicious, however he decided to see where it might take them. “I am doing well, thank you for asking. Busy working. Picked up a side gig. And you? Are you doing well, Abbi?” 

♡

Abbi would never say anything directly bad to the man. She was raised on southern kindness and passive aggression. She knew better than to raise her voice even when he did nothing, but grind her nerves. Cruel and quick with his silver tongue, the teacher wondered if he ever stopped to consider how he spoke. Did he jab his words in with purpose? Did he think he was better than her? She could never figure out where the dislike stemmed. Her hand folded over her mail, tossing it in the trash beside them.

❝   Always well. I was hoping that the starter I ordered would be in the mail today, but...I guess not.  ❞   Abbi glanced up at him, her bottom lip enveloping between her white teeth.    ❝   Are you attending Maya’s birthday party? I’ve been trying to piece together a costume.  ❞

Carleigha wanted to keep the conversation light. Not scare her too much. In truth she was rather hard to kill. A fact that had been a great relief to her. Her body that had once been doomed to betray her now had the power to keep her alive for centuries to come, as daunting as that could be at times. She offered her a smile and shook her head lightly. 

“Semi-invincible, everyone has their weaknesses.” She shifts to show her the bit scar on her leg. “Nothing but a scratch, see.” 

♡

The scar looked massive, but Abbi didn’t want to gawk at it. She knew better than to stare at scars, knowing the ones nestled up her arms and thighs were dead giveaways when her sleeves slid up when she reached over. She respected them, blinking softly as she looked up at Carleigha.   ❝   I didn’t know vampires could scar. It must feel humbling.  ❞

Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with?

Actually, Abbi only knows of her half-brother, Matthew. They aren’t close. In fact, the boy insisted that she only wanted to connect with their mother for nefarious reasons. He sings in a band that tours the east coast. They talk few and in between, usually in a brief phone call to tell her when their mom overdosed. Sometimes, he’ll remember to send happy birthday. Most times, he doesn’t bother. 

How does your character behave around people they like?

⚔

Abbi may well have been one of the only people alive that truly knew Castor. She knew his heart — well, the fact that she knew he had one at all was enough to say she knew him. Everyone else that had ever been considered close to him had either vanished or died, yet somehow Abbi escaped that fate. Perhaps it was their childhood that connected them and kept bringing them back together, but he couldn’t understand why or how. He wasn’t one for believing in much, but he was sure there would have been someone out there that would have read into it all and deemed it fate. Cas just deemed it luck. He felt lucky to have found her again.

As the rabbit hopped into his field of vision Castor grimaced, not finding the animal companion appealing in any way other than the fact it might have made a good stew. As it bounced away to the other side of the room he decided he could ignore it and muffle his senses with alcohol instead of causing an issue.

Cas remained on the other side of the kitchen countertop, perching on the stool conveniently at his feet and leaning over the counter on his strong arms. He took the glass as it was placed on the counter for him, immediately grabbing the scotch and pouring himself a fifth, a laugh emitting from his lips as he popped the corked lid back onto it. “What, you can’t drink like that no more?” He looked up at her, devilish smile on his lips. Alcohol didn’t quite have the same effect on him as it used to, and he wasn’t quite sure if that was due to being a werewolf or the fact he just drank so damn much of it.

How she could invite him to stay with such innocence beguiled him, like a friend offering to help another. Whatever Abbi and Cas had always been, it was never friends. They surpassed that, the fact that their timelines were so connected only proved that. But he had already learned his lesson not to jump the gun, so he just shrugged. “I crash at a place in Ashville. We’ll see where I end up tonight.”

♡

❝   I don’t drink as much as...some people.  ❞   Abbi paused, realizing that El’s name almost slipped her lips again. She readjusted herself as she tapped the weed into the bowl, soon snapping the lid shut on the device and clicked it three times to warm. She glanced up at him, watching him as the dark liquor swirled in its glass. It sound found home between his devilish lips. She wished she had the same tolerance as she used to. Then again, she wasn’t drinking as much. She wasn’t sure if it was because she hit thirty or she stopped chasing Ellis, but she couldn’t handle her liquor for shit. Tonight was enough evidence, hating that she’d have a killer hangover in the morning. 

Her hand loosely settled on the counter, sliding across it as she rounded the corner to be closer to Cas. She wanted him close, but didn’t know how to articulate it. Instead, she let her actions speak. It took only a few breaths before she was against him, her nose grazed against his shoulder as he held a drink in his hand. Her eyes remained focused on him, watching his reaction as she guided the drink down. Instead, she pulled at his jaw, making him watch her as she leaned forward. 

She kissed him sweetly. As sweet as the person she was, Cas was the rare few that knew the darkness that slithered in her belly. He didn’t care she had looser morals than she led on. He embraced it. Her nails clipped against his cheek as her hot breath peeled against his lips. She pressed her nose against his cheek as she kissed him again, more feverish than the last as she tasted the scotch on his tongue. 

She pulled back only for a moment. 

Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?

A groundbreaking moment for Abbi was when she came back in town after her divorce. She visited briefly to say hello to her mother before she moved to Astoria. During this visit, Ricky visited her table at a diner, speaking through gritted teeth that he missed her and hoped she was well. While the conversation unsettled her greatly, she noticed that he left from a table not too far from them. He had a girl with him, looking scarcely legal as she glared at Abbi to speaking to him. 

Despite years of therapy and biting back her tongue with Ellis when he had less than pleasant comments about the pastor, she agreed to have dinner with him. She wanted to ask about the girl. How many were like her afterwards? Before? She didn’t expect the man to profess his love to her that night. Instead of giving in to that ever fleeting feeling of love she had as a teenager, she gritted her teeth and told him to take care of himself. She ended up having a panic attack outside of her mother’s house, wiping her nose as she fumbled her phone to call her ex-husband. Who else could she call? Who else knew? 

Ellis answered, but he was too drunk for conversation. She hung up quickly afterwards, cracking her phone when a flurry of missed calls came through. 

She ended up on a plane to Astoria the next morning, not bothering to say goodbye to her mother. She needed to leave the town before she did something she’d regret. She hasn’t told anyone about that night. 

What does your character dislike in other people?

She doesn’t enjoy when people talk down to her because of how she addresses herself in the world. She’s not a bimbo. She’s not some ignorant asshole either. She doesn’t enjoy hot heads and people that are so blinded by their anger that they refuse to give people a chance. She doesn’t enjoy people who are rude to customer service workers, but will give them a chance to understand why they act this way towards other humans.  

Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat?

Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?

It is fairly similar. Both Robin and Abbi work in professions that require a degree, but mishandle their money to the point where they borderline poverty. They never buy new. They never eat out unless it’s on a specific good occasion. Abbi was lucky enough to have a husband that was patient with her through the divorce, ensuring that she had a good amount of money tucked away in her savings. She doesn’t struggle as much as her mother because she doesn’t live alone nor does she have children. 

Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?

In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?

Her greatest fear was treating El’s wound when he was near death. He lost a lot of blood, but refused to go to the hospital. There was a large gash extending across his back as he whimpered when she pressed the hot rag against it. It was one of the few times she saw her husband cry. She pressed him to go to the hospital, but he refused on the grounds that there might be a police investigation behind it. Not knowing any better, she agreed with him and allowed him to stay home. He weaved in and out of consciousness that night while she stitched together the deeper claw marks. He managed to ruin their couch, bleeding through heaps of gauze before one of the twins came over. 

When Leo looked him over, he insisted that a hospital was a better idea. El didn’t protest with him, agreeing bleakly. He had to go through a blood transfusion while complimenting the stitching afterwards. He stayed in for a few days, brushing Abbi out of the room to ask if he was safe at home. 

Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way?

More or less, she’s used to the sight of blood. If it’s her own, an aching unsettling feeling drapes over her shoulders. She hasn’t relapsed in years and doesn’t plan to in the future. Seeing her own blood, however, reminds her of the soothing ache that settled in her bones after the act. She doesn’t like to remind herself. 

Does your character remember names or faces easier?

Faces!

Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not?

The only time Abbi ever had any money was later in her marriage once Ellis established himself at his law firm. She never cared about money and handles it terribly. She does like material possession more since it isn’t complicated to own something. She also likes the idea of sentimental value. She keeps things that remind of her of good memories. 

Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success?

Happiness. 

What was your character’s favorite toy as a child?

As painful as it was to say, it wasn’t a toy, but a book. The Serendipity series by Stephen Cosgrove was a staple given to her by Robin. It remarked every Christianity footnote without having to bang her head over with a Bible. She liked Buttermilk the most out of the series.

Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others?

She definitely finds ambition attractive. It was what pulled her towards Ellis, a hunter trying to have it all with a marriage, family, prestigious law firm, and become a great hunter. She’s likely to seek out someone that wants to do more and accomplish more in life. Nothing is as ever good as the best. 

In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism?

If something tragic or negative happens to your character, do they believe they may have caused or deserved it, or are they quick to blame others?

Usually Abbi will blame herself before anything else. She doesn’t have the greatest self esteem, usually finding a flaw in her actions or what she might’ve said before looking elsewhere. She’s an idiot. She’s at fault. 

Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)?

She was once attacked by a vampire (which she considers an animal). Ellis killed a small family of vampires, but didn’t quite catch the wife. The girl managed to snatch Abbi from a bar the couple resided at, pressing her against the wall of the room she was staying in, hoping to drain her dry as revenge for what El had done. He should lose his family after all. She was caught last second by her panicked husband. He killed her to protect Abbi, but the girl hardly remembers the aftermath of the event. She lost a lot of blood that night and went to the hospital immediately after. 

She always gave the idea of the supernatural a chance until that night. She saw them as people, but some were dangerous. Being attacked without knowing the context of it all, she relied on what Ellis told her, which was that a vampire just attacked her. See? Aren’t they horrible creatures? And Abbi believed him. She didn’t know about the family and this pressed her ignorance that all vampires are bad. It’s taken years after the event to reconsider. 

Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them?

Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams?

Abbi often finds herself in church. She doesn’t know why or where it extends from fully. She hadn’t set foot in one in years, but found herself listening to a sermon. Sometimes, roaches will appear and start crawling over her shoes. She wakes before it goes any further. 

Other times, she’s with Ellis. They sit outside on their porch while he talks about his job. It seems like a daily clip in their marriage as she nursed a blunt. She has worksheets in front of her while the smell of cinnamon and apples fill her nostrils. He brought home pie, figuring she would like it. 

In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been?

She doesn’t swim often, finding the trek to Florida as a child too far to fully enjoy it. Sometimes, she would travel to a river with Robin and a few friends from her childhood. They would pack their bags to have a beach day even though the closest beach was miles away. She’d sit at the edge of the river with her feet pressed against the wet sand and water. Everything was calm. 

What does your character like in other people?

She notices how they treat others, but always finds a way to amend their flaws. If they’re rude to a server, well, what made them this way? She’s highly empathetic and understanding of others. For the most part, she likes to hear how people talk. How do they show their personality? 

How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it?

It’s dizzily easy. The first time she said I love you was to a man far too old for her. She let it drip from her lips like honey, starry eyed when he returned the same three words. From there on, she said it freely and with her whole chest. The first time she said she loved Ellis was while they sat together while studying. It soon turned from I love you to his hands up her shirt while they kissed each other like they didn’t need air. I love you turned sour when it was the only thing she could say when she wanted to leave their marriage. 

She doesn’t know how to say no or speak up for herself. 

In the first three years of her marriage, she didn’t enjoy sex. She participated for the sake of Ellis. Afterwards, she experienced spell-binding guilt for no longer having that attachment of her virginity and the sake of purity, never enjoyed the act itself because it brought back unresolved trauma when Ricky would touch her in his car so she could never fully feel comfortable undressed in front of someone else, and debated self harm each time afterwards because of her emotions she simply couldn’t voice out loud. This extended for years because she would rather make someone else comfortable than herself. She didn’t know where to draw the line and when she finally voiced her concern, El felt like he assaulted her for touching her without her enjoying it. It took a while to talk matters through and confide in each other. It took months of seeking out a therapist to finally talk about her traumas as a teenager. 

In line with her non-stop giving, she doesn’t say no when one of her mother’s asks for money. Robin was a classic hoarder and always purchased items they didn’t need in the house. When she was understandably in debt, she would ask Abbi for bailouts in her marriage. She would borrow money from her husband and send it immediately without question. This was the woman that raised her. Why wouldn’t she? When she got to know her birth mother, Imelda, the woman often asked for money to fuel her drug addiction. While Abbi was convinced she was clean, she was very much not. The girl just funded both of her mother’s problems without any real concept that it was damaging them. When she gave Imelda access to her bank account, she drained it in forty-eight hours. She had to borrow money from her ex-husband to make the next month’s rent while taking Imelda off of the account.