ALIGANTIA.

         #ALIGANTIA ::  𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙴𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝙽𝚃  𝙼𝚄𝙻𝚃𝙸-𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴.  𝙼𝚄𝚃𝚄𝙰𝙻𝚂  𝙾𝙽𝙻𝚈  (18+),  𝙻𝙾𝚆  𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙸𝚃𝚈 / 𝚂𝙻𝙾𝚆  𝚁𝙴𝙿𝙻𝚈!   --  𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙳  𝙱𝚈  𝚂𝙷𝙰𝙴:  𝚂𝙷𝙴/𝙷𝙴𝚁,  𝟸𝟻+,  𝙶𝙼𝚃.

if  magnus  had  been  able  to  see  the  future  of  the  herondale  bloodline,  perhaps  he  would  sooner  have  told  tessa  that  perhaps  it  was  best  for  her  not  to  have  children  with  her  husband.  for  all  the  love  magnus  had  for  the  herondale  family  when  he  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  be  considered  a  friend,  that  in  no  way  made  up  for  the  suffering  that  he  was  being  forced  to  endure  for  the  sake  of  a  young  man  that  held  a  striking  resemblance  to  an  ancestor  they  had  no  recollection  of.  though  magnus  may  not  have  known  that  the  blonde  haired  nephilim  in  his  home  was  herondale  by  blood  at  the  time,  that  didn't  mean  that  it  negated  the  situation  he  was  in  for  yet  more  of  the  same  family  lines  that  he  had  once  considered  friends.  time  passed  and  so  few  remembered  what  had  once  been,  but  magnus  and  tessa  did.

if  he  were  honest  with  himself,  perhaps  magnus  was  to  blame  for  having  a  soft  spot  for  dark  haired  men  with  piercing  blue  eyes,  but  everyone  had  their  soft  spots  and  alec  lightwood  just  so  happened  to  be  exploiting  his  in  order  to  keep  his  adopted  brother  safe.  he  hadn't  anticipated  quite  how  maddening  said  shadowhunter  was,  however.

chartreuse  feline  eyes  slid  to  the  source  of  the  voice,  gaze  narrowing  marginally  at  the  tone  that  was  taken  while  the  nephilim  took  in  magnus'  bedroom;  the  draperies,  old  wood  bed,  countless  throw  pillows,  rugs  that  scattered  the  space,  satin  sheened  bedding  that  was  vibrant  red  in  colour.  admittedly  he  hadn't  bothered  to  straighten  out  the  sheets  or  resituate  the  pillows  that  morning,  but  all  in  all  the  sight  wasn't  the  worst  state  that  his  room  had  been  in.

                                             ------------  ❝  what,  you  were  expecting  a  magic  carpet?  ❞

    Thinking about her boss had been unpleasant, even if in the grand scheme of things it wasn’t as bad as her hesitance implied, at least, not in her mind anymore, but when it had happened, it had been the straw to break the camel’s back. She’d had enough, and moving was the only genuine option that felt left for her. Harper’s frown deepened as she noted the way his fingers balled into fists, heard the hint of a near growl on the exhale. She tilted her head, as if trying to make sense of the reaction. She hadn’t said what occurred, and truthfully didn’t think she implied it was anything all that serious, it could have just as easily been an annoyance of a boss taking credit for her work one too many times, but Conan seemed to care, visibly, about what had transpired formerly. He’d have to wait, she wasn’t ready to open up that completely, even if there was a quiet voice in the back of her mind, urging her that it was okay to tell him anything. 

     It was better to move on, and it was what she wanted most. She wanted to belong somewhere, to be calm and to find her footing again. The city had overwhelmed her, had knocked her topsy-turvy, and it was time to change that. She didn’t want to focus on who she’d been. The return of his grin had relief flooding through her, her heartbeat easing, her own smile rising to match it. It was a grin that felt only for her, if that were possible, or even probable when he barely knew her. “I do enjoy a good challenge,” She agreed, her hand moving to her hip, almost playfully, purposefully being dramatic. “The farmhouse isn’t that bad anyway, though it sounds like you’ve seen it. My biggest concern is getting a bit more security, the locks and hinges are all old, the windows never seem to close entirely, it’s not ideal.” She mused, thinking aloud about her first priority. Decor and personality would come, but first she wanted home to feel as safe as possible. “Did you know the gentleman who owned the farm before?” She wondered, especially considering the closeness of the community. He must have, which made her wonder what had become of him. She’d been told he moved, abandoning the house. Her friend back in the city had joked that the place must be haunted, but she hadn’t noticed anything amiss, yet. 

    “Ah, that’s very sweet.” She admitted, finding it wholesome, and endearing, that he viewed the other patrons in such a way. “I never really had that, I had a few friends in the city, my parents, but never anything like you have, never something so big either. There must’ve been forty people in there.” She continued, walking comfortably beside him. Without realizing it, she moved closer to his side, and matched his pace even though his strides were naturally longer than hers. “I think I’d like that, for people to actually know me, and for me to know them. Maybe we should have stayed, you could’ve introduced me to more of your friends?” She pointed out, though it wasn’t really what she wanted right then. Right then she just wanted to be alone with him, to get to know him at her own pace, and without curious eyes. “They all seem to really like you, respect you, maybe is the better word. What is it that you do for work?” She wondered, unable to stop questioning him. She was curious. 

      He had to have a job, after all, and it would make sense if many people worked together too. “It is beautiful up here, I’d really like to go exploring. The leaves are all changing, and hiking sounds wonderful. I was prepared for that, I even brought gear. I thought about maybe going and camping in the woods sometime. Do you have any recommendations?” She asked, not knowing how dangerous staying overnight in the woods surrounding town would be. 

        𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏  𝘛𝘏𝘌  𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘌  𝘐𝘕  𝘞𝘏𝘐𝘊𝘏  𝘚𝘏𝘌  𝘚𝘗𝘖𝘒𝘌  𝘛𝘖  𝘏𝘐𝘔,  𝘐𝘛  𝘞𝘈𝘚  𝘚𝘐𝘔𝘗𝘓𝘌  𝘍𝘖𝘙  𝘏𝘐𝘚  𝘞𝘖𝘓𝘍  𝘛𝘖  𝘔𝘈𝘒𝘌  𝘛𝘏𝘌  𝘈𝘚𝘚𝘜𝘔𝘗𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕  𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛  𝘚𝘏𝘌  𝘞𝘖𝘜𝘓𝘋  𝘛𝘈𝘒𝘌  𝘛𝘏𝘌  𝘕𝘌𝘞𝘚  𝘖𝘍  𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘐𝘙  𝘉𝘌𝘐𝘕𝘎  𝘋𝘐𝘍𝘍𝘌𝘙𝘌𝘕𝘛  𝘞𝘌𝘓𝘓.  this  thought  conan  shoved  aside  in  disagreement,  knowing  many  of  the  reactions  that  humans  had  when  learning  about  their  kind  for  the  first  time.  he’d  seen  both  how  right  and  how  strong  a  love  could  bloom  between  mates,  and  he’d  also  seen  how  scared  and  repulsed  others  had  been  while  comparing  their  kind  to  a  thing  of  nightmares.  would  harper  be  scared  of  him?  pack  her  things  and  sell  the  farm  to  go  home  to  her  parents?  his  chest  constricted  with  the  thought  and  he  had  to  remind  himself  that  nothing  need  be  said  now.  with  her  hand  on  her  hip  and  a  playful  air  to  her  actions,  conan  found  himself  smiling  still  at  this  woman  who  could  SO  EASILY  be  his  undoing,  cognac  eyes  once  again  upon  her  with  a  look  that  spoke  of  his  knowledge  of  the  property  that  she  had  purchased.

        “ i  have  seen  it.  i’ll  admit  that  it  will  be  interesting  to  see  what  you  plan  to  do  to  the  place  --  it  has  been  in  need  of  some  care  for  a  time  now. ”  brows  furrowed  at  the  mention  of  security  to  the  building,  something  he  hadn’t  considered  when  she  had  mentioned  living  in  the  property  though  perhaps  he  should  have.  “ yes,  an  elderly  man,  it  was  his  wife’s  family  property  though.  she  died  around  ten  years  ago  now,  he  probably  didn’t  keep  up  with  the  repairs  or  ask  for  help. ”  in  fact,  the  human  in  question  had  shut  himself  away  after  his  wife  had  died  in  a  disagreement  with  a  member  of  the  neighbouring  pack  but  harper  need  not  know  that.  “ well,  i’m  pretty  handy  myself,  so  let  me  know  if  you  help  with  replacing  the  locks  and  hinges. ”  it  didn’t  matter  either  way,  conan  didn’t  plan  to  leave  her  unprotected  now  that  she  was  of  interest  among  their  kind.

      his  eyes  surveyed  her  face  for  a  moment;  she  was  observant,  more-so  than  the  humans  that  usually  frequented  the  town  --  he  would  need  to  watch  what  was  said  around  her.  he  blinked  at  her  train  of  thought,  brows  raising  in  response  and  he  smiled,  in  a  way  that  let  her  know  she  was  right.  “ there  will  be  another  gathering  before  long  --  there’s  always  a  birthday,  anniversary,  or  a  wedding,  happening  around  these  parts.  you’ll  learn  that  before  long,  and  i  can  promise  to  introduce  you  when  the  next  one  comes  up.  not  everyone  was  present  tonight,  but  i’m  sure  they’ll  know  about  you  before  you  know  about  them. ”  ah,  that  was  the  question  he  hadn’t  thought  upon  an  answer  for  yet  --  did  he  tell  her  the  truth,  or  perhaps  a  varient  of  it?

    She’d noted his presence the entire time she studied the clear night sky, the constellations dotting the horizon. It was impossible to ignore, and it had very little to do with his size, even if that didn’t help matters. He was nearly a foot taller than her, and far broader. His shadow would swallow hers whole, but it was the air that surrounded him, the way it shifted in response to him that caught her attention. She didn’t turn back until she’d had her fill of the stars, and conversation required it. Unlike before, the hairs on her arms and neck didn’t stand on end, she didn’t feel unsafe keeping her back to him until she felt a disconnect with the calm. Something stirred low in her belly, an unease she couldn’t explain as she turned to smile at him. It went away the moment she did, and she put it to overactive imagination. 

     Harper’s eyes creased, nose scrunching as she laughed. “East-Jesus nowhere?” She echoed, shaking her head. “I can’t say I’ve heard that expression before.” She teased, but it was a fair assessment of the town. She’d have to drive out of it just to get groceries, unless she decided to put the farmhouse to it’s intended purpose. She did hope to perhaps raise a few crops, a small and manageable garden, and maybe a few animals but to be entirely self-sufficient was another story altogether. She wasn’t ready for that large of an adjustment, so heading out of town to grocery shop would be necessary. At least the farmhouse had decent reception, she could always order things even if she’d pity the poor mailman who had to drive all the way out to her new residence. 

    The question wasn’t as simple, however. Why had she moved? Her eyes fell, the smile falling from her lips as she absently played with the zipper on her jacket. Her shoulders pulled up toward her ears before falling. She pulled her button lip under her teeth, before sighing deeply. “That’s a long story.” She admitted, hand reaching over to brush against her arm. “I guess I needed a change, but that’s really simplifying it. The farmhouse was up for auction, and it really felt like the advert had come across my desk like some sort of side quest, challenging me to take the risk.” She continued, deciding to give him at least a little of the answer he sought. “It was ridiculously affordable, given the condition of the home and the land it came with. I was looking for a way out, almost desperately. The office I worked at was suffocating, and I’d fallen out of love with the atmosphere of the city. Noise wasn’t welcome anymore, it gave me migraines, and I found myself irritable and short and I hated it? That’s not me.” She continued. “And then there was this incident with my former boss, and I didn’t know how I was going to keep showing up everyday, and just like that the advert found it’s way to my desk and well,” She paused, shrugging again. “Here I am.” 

    She didn’t want to talk further about it, it was more than enough to give a near stranger, probably too much, but it had been easy to tell him. She could have kept going, but she didn’t want to ruin her own mood. She’d enjoyed her night up until that point. Her brow raised at his second question, “and why should I not renovate it myself, Conan?” She challenged, letting the conversation shift gratefully. “I’ll have you know I’ve got a great eye for color, and I’m not half bad with a hammer.” She laughed, lightness returning to her tone. “I’ll take it piece by piece, but I really want to make it my own. It’s beautiful, I plan to keep the character of the house, but it needs some modern comfort, and it needs updating.” She explained as she started to walk, remembering the first bit of her route home. It was still strange not to see routes in terms of blocks and corners. “I’m glad I’m not taking you from your friends,” She added, reassured by the admission. “It’s your turn, though. Have you lived here all your life?” She wondered, wanting him to open up to her too. He was inquisitive, but quiet when it came to himself. She wanted to equal the playing field. 

       𝘚𝘏𝘌  𝘞𝘈𝘚  𝘈  𝘗𝘜𝘡𝘡𝘓𝘌  𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛  𝘏𝘌  𝘞𝘈𝘚  𝘗𝘜𝘛𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎  𝘛𝘖𝘎𝘌𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙  𝘗𝘐𝘌𝘊𝘌  𝘉𝘠  𝘗𝘐𝘌𝘊𝘌,  𝘏𝘌𝘙  𝘈𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘈𝘎𝘌  𝘛𝘏𝘖𝘜𝘚𝘈𝘕𝘋  𝘗𝘐𝘌𝘊𝘌𝘚  𝘍𝘖𝘙  𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘚  𝘛𝘖  𝘊𝘖𝘕𝘕𝘌𝘊𝘛,  𝘉𝘜𝘛  𝘏𝘐𝘚  𝘞𝘈𝘚  𝘛𝘏𝘌  𝘗𝘜𝘡𝘡𝘓𝘌  𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏  𝘍𝘐𝘍𝘛𝘌𝘌𝘕-𝘏𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘙𝘌𝘋  𝘗𝘐𝘌𝘊𝘌𝘚.  there  wasn’t  a  small  detail  that  he  wouldn’t  take  note  of,  not  an  influx  of  air  that  he  wouldn’t  hear,  or  an  emotion  expressed  that  he  wouldn’t  feel  himself.  already  he  understood  the  tug,  like  a  dog  to  a  leash,  that  prompted  him  to  keep  to  her  side,  to  protect  and  cherish  her,  to  do  everything  in  his  power  to  make  her  happy.  already  his  wolf  was  enamoured  by  her,  the  colour  of  her  hair  in  the  night,  the  way  her  eyes  had  tracked  the  stars  as  if  she  hadn’t  seen  them  before  or  were  a  rare  sight  --  did  the  city  lights  stop  the  stars  from  being  visible  at  night?  word  would  begin  to  spread  through  the  remainder  of  the  pack  about  tonight  and  by  the  weeks  end,  perhaps  sooner,  his  enemies  would  know  where  his  weakness  was  --  even  now,  having  only  a  handful  of  puzzle  pieces  available  to  him  --  she  was  a  beacon  in  the  darkness.  she  was  safe  on  his  land,  so  long  as  she  remained  there,  and  would  be  safe  so  long  as  she  took  someone  with  her  outside  of  land.  when  was  it  prudent  to  tell  someone  that  for  no  reason  of  their  own  they  now  had  a  target  on  their  back?

        perhaps  he  had  pried  too  soon.  with  the  smile  fading  from  harper’s  face  conan  chastised  himself,  his  wolf  rising  to  his  feet  with  a  whimper,  pacing  restlessly  while  searching  for  a  way  to  make  it  up  to  her.  cognac  gaze  took  in  her  nervous  demeanor  and  his  brows  came  together  in  concern  as  she  began  to  explain.  he  understood  the  feeling  of  distaste  for  city  life  --  he  had  learnt  that  cities  were  no  place  for  werewolves  upon  travelling  to  them  to  experience  life  outside  of  the  confines  of  the  pack  and  his  parents  expectations.  he  hadn’t  known  how  humans  dealt  with  the  constant  noise,  pollution,  and  close  quarters  with  as  many  people  as  the city  had.  conan  had  felt  restless  and  craved  to  escape  as  soon  as  he  could  --  running  had  helped  but  his  wolf  had  hated  the  restrictions  that  the  city  presented  when  it  came  to  being  himself.  he  nodded  understandingly  at  harper,  hoping  she  was  happier  in  his  small  section  of  the  world  than  she  had  been  in  the  city.

        the  words  ‘incident  with  my  former  boss’  struck  him  like  a  punch  to  the  gut,  anger  rising  within  him  instantaniously,  hands  balling  into  fists  at  his  sides  as  he  fought  to  control  the  growl  that  his  wolf  roared  within  him,  only  a  small  breath  of  it  left  him  as  he  exhaled  through  his  nose  while  clenching  his  jaw.  he  was  no  pup  --  he  could  control  himself  perfectly  --  so  why  was  it  so  hard  to  stop  himself  from  reacting  to  the  small  set  of  words?  he  averted  his  eyes  as  red  tinged  the  edges  of  his  vision  and  externally  his  eyes  flashed  from  cognac  to  crisp  apple  green  and  back  multiple  times  in  a  row.  here  i  am  --  yes,  here  she  was,  turning  his  life  upside  down  within  only  a  small  time  of  knowing  her,  challenging  everything  that  he  thought  that  he  knew  about  himself  and  his  self  control  with only  five  words.  she  was  okay,  he  reminded  himself  and  soothed  to  his  wolf,  she  was  here  now.  she  would  be  safe  here  with  us.  WITH  US.  his  wolf  agreed,  pacing  with  agitation  but  no  longer  craving  the  violence  of  a  hunt.  he  couldn’t  leave  his  land  any  more  now  than  he  could  before  he’d  met  her.  regaining  control,  he  forced  himself  to  keep  from  showing  any  negative  emotions  upon  his  face  as  she  looked  to  him  challengingly  at  his  questioning.

          𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄  𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐃  𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄  𝐇𝐈𝐌  𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒,  condensation  catching  the  light  that  slants  in  through  the  window  just  beside  them.  blue  gaze  caught  by  it,  he  reaches  out  to  trace  the  line  of  one  droplet  as  it  races  down  the  curve  of  the  glass  bottle  with  idle  intrigue,  his  attention  still  focused  almost  entirely  on  dean.  he  hums,    ❛  monopoly  is  a  boardgame  about  the  dangers  and  inherent  inequality  of  late  stage  capitalism.  ❜   fingernail  tapping  glass,  tawny  in  its  color,  betraying  amber  liquid  inside.  the  label  is  damp,  and  it  tears  easily  under  castiel’s  finger.  the  blues  and  reds  are  vibrant  despite  being  mottled  and  wet.    ❛  sam  has  mentioned  it.  ❜

           there  is  curiosity  creased  at  the  corners  of  his  eyes  as  he  shifts  his  gaze  from  the  colorful  label  to  dean’s  own  eyes ;  green  beset  in  golden  freckles,  SHIMMERING  in  much  the  same  way,  captured  by  morning  light.    ❛  what  is  ‘ twenty  questions ? ’  ❜    a  dip  furrows  castiel’s  brow.  the  way  dean  said  it  implies  it  too  is  a  game.  when  castiel  picks  the  bottle  up,  there  is  a  ring  of  water  left  behind.  though  the  bottle  cap  is  not  a  twist  off,  he  gives  no  thought  to  the  unassuming  opener  placed  on  the  table.  he  twists  the  cap  off  without  blinking,  or  any  sign  of  strain,  brings  the  lip  of  the  bottle  to  his  own.  breathing  in  the  scent  of  fermented  wheat,  perhaps  a  hint  of  something  CITRUS  before  he  tilts  it  back,  he  takes  a  tentative  sip,  adams  apple  bobbing.  it  is  bitter,  and  he  finds  he  has  no  particular  fondness  for  the  taste.

        𝘖𝘏  𝘏𝘌  𝘞𝘈𝘓𝘒𝘌𝘋  𝘐𝘕𝘛𝘖  𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛  𝘖𝘕𝘌,  𝘏𝘜𝘏?  sometimes  dean  wonders  what  cas  does  with  the  information  that  he  gathers  from  him  and  sam,  though  it  was  fair  to  say  that  if  sam  described  monopoly  to  the  angel,  then  he  probably  made  it  sound  like  the  most  boring  game  on  the  planet.  it  wouldn’t  be  dean’s  first  pick  of  games,  in  fairness.  at  the  response  from  said  angel  the  winchester  blinks,  brows  coming  together  as  he  frowns,  green  eyes  staring.  “ is  that  how  sam  explained  it?  --  sounds  like  a  FREAKIN’  banking  scheme. ”  he  needed  to  talk  to  that  kid  about  his  damn  nerd  speak.