LITTLE LION BOY

@aramayer​

Diana had spent her entire life in the Delphi Coven, she was Anastasia’s heir, and having a relationship with the Argos Pack had been ingrained within her from a young age. Diana had only recently returned to Corinth Bay after being away on a personal quest for the last two years. While ultimately she’d returned alone, without her brother or the companions that joined her, Diana was seeking a return to routine, or some kind of normalcy. Training with wolves was nothing new, she tossed a sword into the earth between the two of them, her own twirled aptly between her fingers. “One of my mentors once told me that a good swordsman is more important than a good sword, that means the pressure is on, because Lena made that sword herself.” Diana teased lightly, “Go on, pick it up, unless you prefer to fight with your claws.” 

Training was one of the only ways to keep tiresome contrivances out of Ara’s mind, because when he was fighting or working out, he didn’t have to think about anything other than the task at hand. When Diana offered to spar with him, he couldn’t turn her down. The cool breeze rustled across the clearing that came up under his shirt and sent a up his spine. The soft thud of the sword landing in front of him brought his eyes up to his opponent, unable to suppress a smile as he bent down to pick it up. It was no secret that Diana was a master with a blade, and the likely hood of Ara getting the better of her was slim. “Actually --” he started as he twirled the blade in his hand, getting a feel for the weight, “-- I prefer my teeth.” lifting the blade towards her, he gave a curt bow before taking his first swing, the satisfying clang of metal against metal echoing through the trees that sent a comforting adrenaline through his veins.

It felt sort of strange to have Ara at his place after the last time he was there. It was like he kept sneaking looks at him to make sure he wasn’t in any way distressed. But it felt necessary to keep checking up on people, even if Leighton himself was having a hard time leaving his flat after all of that. “I’ve been thinking about your problem lately.” He’d been thinking about Lia, but Ara probably knew that, he didn’t need to say it. @aramayer​

Things were weird in Corinth Bay -- well weirder than usual. It felt like he’d just been drifting along, not really all the way there. Not there enough to understand anything that’s happened; and frankly not in the right state of mind to really care. He had his own things to worry about. Leighton was the one person he knew who could ground him. Get him down from where ever he was drifting on and pull him back into reality. In Leighton’s home he felt at ease, although for the majority of his time there that evening he spent his time staring at his hands or fiddling with a strand from his ripped jeans. Not sure what to even talk about, or how to begin to explain the limbo state he was currently in. “Hmm?” he lifted his gaze back to the vampire when he spoke, the soft voice easing out of his thoughts, staring back at him with his full attention as though urging him to go on, “and what do you make of it?”

“Here, figure you’re going to want this.” It probably wasn’t a good idea, but he didn’t see any harm in it. It was a return to form, that’s what was important. He was still worried about him, it was hard not to be. Regardless, Leighton handed Ara the plastic cup and rested his free hand on his shoulder. They’d had the same idea it would have seemed, kept things simple, and because of it they appeared  to stick apart from all of the sequins and togas. “I figured I sort of owed it to you. For that time I tried to babysit you.” Which is what he was sort of doing right now, but he wouldn’t admit it. And he wasn’t about to follow him around, he was checking in, he figured he was allowed to. @aramayer​

Ara knew for the most part that Leighton was checking up on him, inadvertently or not. Undoubtedly, Ara had given him quite the scare when he came to his house nearly bursting with tears to unhinged his entire life story onto the vampire. He felt awful about it, but man; Leighton was a good friend. Even more so when he saw the offering of alcohol held out to him. Wrapping his fingers around the plastic cup, it let out a small crinkle of pressure in the grasp of his hand, he took a ginger sip from the too full beverage that threatened to overflow on his hands. “Hey, thanks man,” offering a genuine smile, feeling like he hadn’t been this relaxed in a long time. The mood and excitement of the festivities were a pretty good distraction to his hectic personal life. “You staying here long?” raking his eyes over his friend with a playful smile toying at the corner of his lips, “You’re not really dressed for this sort of thing.” Although neither was Ara, the thought of parading in any less fabric than he was wearing now made him feel -- uncomfortable. Besides if anyone really wanted to see him naked, they should just come find him after a full moon.

@aramayer​

Haris was working, but really, when was he not? The job was simple, some woman wanted proof of her husband’s infidelity. While late nights at the job, unexplained absences, and lipstick on a man’s collar were all condemning in different lights, what Haris needed to get paid was the money shot. One photo of the John standing across the room with his lady friend doing more than just talking. “Hey bud,” Haris breathed, nudging the man he was sharing a drink with, a local werewolf from the Argos. “I’ll bet you the next round he’s gonna make his move in the next five minutes.”

In a sea of gowns and gladiator sandals, it was refreshing to see that Haris was actually wearing something normal. There weren’t a lot of wolves in Corinth Bay outside of the Argos pack that Ara had managed to befriend, but Haris managed to become one of them.  Nursing the beer he had in front of him, he followed the other man’s gaze to the stranger at the bar, who had been a little too enthusiastic to buy his lady friend another pina colada. They’ve been just talking at the bar for at least an hour, the man in question hadn’t even laid a hand on her that whole time. Taking another swing from his glass, Ara shook his head curling in his lips to get the remaining foam that rested on his mustache. “Okay bet, there’s no way. There’s way too much foreplay, these two aren’t gonna be necking for ah-while.” he clinked his glass against his friends, “why don’t you take a break; it’s a festival, take a load off.“ 

Encountering one of her victims shouldn’t have been as much of a rarity as it was, though Kasandra supposed that might be attributed to the sole fact that most were drained by both herself and Gabriel. Few who endured the effects of two cubi ever lived to tell the tale. Yet the nameless man approaching at Styx’s makeshift street bar appeared to break several molds beyond her slip in self-restraint. She deemed it best to play coy lest she provide any reason to be suspicious. “––Hi, stranger.” The words curl upon her lips as she leans into the allure which emanates from her species. “I should have known that I might see you again.” @aramayer​

Ara knew he had been exhausted after both accounts of meeting two gorgeous strangers at the club. However, his mind always became clouded when he tried to figure out the reason why, always ending up blaming his fatigue on the alcohol and the excitement. Unaware that said beautiful monsters took advantage to feed off him. So, when he spotted Kasandra out at the festivities, there was no apprehension. Quite nearly opposite. Out from the dim lights of the club and the dark atmosphere of a dark moonless night, seeing her beaming against the sinking sunset had Ara stumbling over the right words. She was dressed on theme like everyone else at the carnivale, but, she shone above them. Her white gown like waves over her body, even her eyes looked otherworldly -- and vaguely threatening. “What a surprise,” the werewolf mused, “I totally didn’t come over here just to talk to you,” feeling his heart beat rise in tempo when he met her gaze. “enjoying yourself? did you -- come here with anyone?” 

@aramayer​

“Ara?” Atlas called out of surprise, his friend was wearing jeans and a tshirt and stood in stark contrast to the Carnivale that was roaring around them. The oracle was sat at the booth for MILF, indulging in some quality meat, his mouth half full and his blood alcohol level probably alarming high. His face was a bit red, his lips stained with the telltale signature of all the wine he’d been drinking over the course of the day. When he spoke some of the food he was eating went flying out of his mouth and absently the very ungraceful witch stood, waving at his friend. “Come on come, you have to try this - it’s like - the best uh,” He looked at the meat on a stick again, “whatever this is called, I’ve ever had.”

The carnivale was of course gorgeous, which was expected. He’d been to the carnivale quite a few times during his many years in the Bay. But this time he was actually participating in the firefighter float, even if he was just going to be driving the engine. It was hot, and he felt jealous of the many people; both men and women, walking by in flowing gowns and skirts. When he first got down to the festivities he could’ve sworn he saw someone butt naked disappear into the crowd. He could smell Atlas before he reached him, beneath the aroma of smoking meats and different body scents clouding up his senses. He smelled like oils and sunscreen, and of course the strong odor of fermented grapes. “Ooo boy,” Ara sighed, with the telltale signs of a smile washing over his features the moment he met the other man’s gaze. Eying the kebab in his hand and the booth across from him, “Have you been drinking this whole time?” asking in disbelief, he laughed, and instead of buying his own meat-on-a-stick he leaned over and took a big chomp out of Atlas’s. “You’re definitely drunk, alright. This tastes like shit.”

Connor knew a thing or two about demons- had fought enough of his own to recognize that the fire in Ara’s eyes had only lit because of him- and maybe he was being a glutton for pain as he allowed each hit to make its mark. Pain was always better than this hollow burning inside of his chest. Like he couldn’t quite take a full breath and this made him feel alive. Where it had all come from, he didn’t know, nor did he care. He just wanted to escape from it. “Fuck-” the exclamation burst the moment his back collided with the ground, the crack of his skull on concrete loud enough to start a ringing in his own ears. The daze of it all caught him off guard- the sudden burst across his jaw no more helpful to ease the whirlwind. All he could think was, this is my favorite shirt, as he reached to grasp at the hand pinning him down. Copper flooded his tongue, his vision swam, and he laughed at it.

Snarling, he hooked a leg around the other’s and tried to push them over- Ara was one stocky son of a bitch, and Connor didn’t really want to win this one. “Is that all you got? Huh?” Grunting, he arched upward, before aiming a fist at Ara’ throat.

There was nothing like getting a punch in face to remind you what it felt like to be alive, Ara couldn’t remember the last time he felt so reckless. Bursting with rage and a fury so hot, it felt like he might combust into flames right there on the side of the parking lot. Over what? He couldn’t remember, and right now it didn’t even matter. Right now he was lost in the heavy breathing, the pain of where he’d been hit beat like a frantic drumming in his ears. A punch to his his throat had him scrambling off of the other man. Ara stood there, coughing as he tried to regain the wind knocked out of him; eyes staring back into the glinting stare of Connors steely gaze. 

“If you want me to kill you, just say the word.” he snapped back at him, shaking his hands in the cool night air to relieve pain from his knuckles. “Get up!” Ara barked, however already stepping forward to pull the other man to his feet. Stepping back and lifting his hand’s up into fists, waiting long enough for Connor to at least get situated before throwing another punch straight for his head. No holding back, if he wanted to get knocked the fuck out, then by god that’s what Ara would do. 

There he was. Back to his old self for just a moment, in the briefest smile, and then it was gone again. You don’t know that. He was right, the bite behind that statement almost making him grimace, but he knew where Ara was coming from. This was heavy, he was young, it was all a very delicate subject. “Ara, it’s not a problem. I’m glad you came to me.” Everything was even, everything was calm, every word was as rational as he could be about all of this. 

He could panic about it when Ara left, and he did indeed plan to. 

“I agree completely, you’re the one who has to tell her.” Which felt controversial to say, Leighton had half a mind to offer to tell her if he really felt he couldn’t do it, but he doubted it would help. That’s not what this was, Ara wasn’t coming to him to ask him to fix things for him and he didn’t think he really felt comfortable involving himself in such a personal matter. No, Ara had to do this for himself, Lia deserved to hear it from him, this wasn’t something he was about to walk into the middle of. “It’ll be best coming from you. She might not appreciate it in the moment, but I think she’ll come around.” 

It all felt too familiar, like some kind of deja vu that he’d rather not think about. Saying words he’d parrot to himself after he’d made his decisions. She’ll come around, yes he was always hoping someone would come around. 

Now wasn’t the time to tell the other that he could sympathize with him over a broken family. Not when he was holding onto hope that this could still be fixed. At least between brother and sister, the pack was…He actually was more than a little disappointed in them. Lia needed help, she was one of them, why weren’t they helping her? “But you’re not on your own with this. Not this part at least.” 

Ara’s logic made sense, not wanting to tell her until he could offer her a solution. It was some kind of curse, curses could be broken. “Good news is Corinth is certainly the right place to find someone to undo it.” Neither of the two of them had any means of doing so on their own, which meant they needed to bring someone else into this. It was his turn to sigh, reach to run his fingers through the front of his hair out of habit. 

“Can I ask why they’re not helping her?” It almost sounded like a hesitant plea, he didn’t know if he wanted to know.

In his flawed, fucked up and self-sacrificing way, he tried to do what he thought was right. For the first time in his life now, he questioned if, perhaps, his acts of selflessness were, in reality, completely selfish? Even when trying to find penitence, he was burdening someone else. But, he was cooling down, the fire of dread he’d felt earlier had lowered to a small simmer in the pit of his stomach. Leighton was a friend, he should of known he’d react the way he did, “Thanks Leighton, I really appreciate it.” he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a heavy sigh, releasing the breath he’d been holding, trying to relax at last. 

Ara definitely had to be the one to tell her, he’d been the one who decided to keep her in the dark. The one who had been giving her the cold shoulder, it would only make sense that he told her that he was the one who ruined her life. “Yeah.” However, tempting it was to ask someone to do it for him, he knew it wasn’t right, and he might even loathe himself more should it ever come to that. “This is more than some petty sibling rivalry,  as much as I want to agree with you Leighton,” he took a deep sigh, “I don’t think she’ll ever come around.” had he been in her position, he wouldn’t be able to forgive that. 

There was a kindness in Leighton’s voice, a gentleness like the surface of water, a voice of one who laughed with ease and saw people under their behavior; a soul-connector. But Leighton was like the ocean, a calmness brushing like tides on the shore, and Ara couldn’t help but wonder what lurks beneath those waves. You’re not on your own. No, he supposed he wasn’t, not anymore. He offered a half-hearted smile towards his friend, rubbing the back of his neck, “You’re right; but I don’t even know where to begin...Corinth Bay is big. It’s like looking for a needle in a hay stack.” 

A long time ago, the pack explained why they couldn’t find a cure for the curse laid on Lia, they weighed the pros and cons and decided it was a risk they couldn’t take. “It’s complicated --” he trailed off trying to figure out the right words. “-- It’s not that don’t want to help. Just the risk of Lia dying during the process is too great.” he let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t want Lia to die, but I think we have to at least try.” 

Ara stood up, about ready to take his leave. He felt a little better, and he certainly didn’t want to burden Leighton even more than he had already. Leighton was a good friend, perhaps one of his best friends, suddenly looking forward for the next long hike they would undoubtedly take together again, “If I could, I would take the curse for her. It was mine in the first place, I just want her to be happy again.”

Atlas flushed a bit, feeling weirdly exposed that Ara had seen him so vulnerable. The witch was self conscious about his magic, its potency and reliability. Compared to most other witches, his spells were less potent, and he became exhausted more easily. At least when held up next to his twin sister, Atlas fell short, the fact that the hunters had nearly bested him, that he’d needed to rely on Ara at all was hard for him. Their initial meeting had been somewhat bizarre in nature, a blind date gone wrong, but he was glad that he’d found a friend that he could rely on in the end. Ara could have refused to help him, or been pissed that he been summoned by a witch in the first place. But he wasn’t. He’d helped Atlas, and instead of leaving him to perish in the muck, the werewolf had seen to it that the oracle was taken to safety. Despite whatever repercussions might have befallen him for depositing a half dead man in a hotel room. 

“I’m still tired, but I’m alive,” Atlas said easily, he smiled lightly, grateful for Ara’s presence in the wood. "thanks to you.” The witch saw the surprise and hesitation wash over the wolf and absently felt like maybe he’d made a mistake? Maybe it was the wrong color, or the wrong choice, or maybe Ara thought it was weird that Atlas went through the process of making him a sweater. The witch didn’t have much in the ways of money, he could not grant wishes like a genie, or promise that no harm would ever befall the werewolf, but he had magic that could be worked and plied. He could weave what spells he could into a creation that was uniquely one of a kind, and he only did this for people that were deserving of the effort. 

“Why would you -?” Atlas was a bit perplexed, “Why would you have gotten me anything? I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.” The witch had no trouble admitting that, “This is just… My way of saying thank-you, if you ever need anything. I’ve got your back.” 

Things in Corinth Bay were getting stranger, and increasingly more dangerous. Atlas was a friend, one who he met through a weird happenstance incident; which ended up in him becoming one of his closest friends. Although he knew that the witch was perfectly capable of taking care of himself out in the woods, there was still this heavy smog of fear wavering over him; worried that even though they bested those hunters; that they would be back, and Ara wouldn’t be there to help him. Anxiety quickly pushed to the forefront of his brain, one that wasn’t easy to shake. But then, Atlas looked back at him,  and he met his gaze to see a smile. That was a sight, and it never came often enough. He was undoubtedly strong, Ara should know by then that Atlas would be just fine. “hey, we worked together,” he clasped a hand on the other man’s shoulder in a motion of gratitude and mutual respect. It wasn’t often that werewolves and witches got along so willingly, and yet; Ara found that he trusted him completely. 

“Whenever this thing finishes, you should get back and rest,” his brows lifted, concern crossing his features. “I have a feeling that this is gonna be draining,” Ara let out a sigh. Not just physically, just being surrounded by everyone in idle conversation, b o r i n g  conversations with coven members trying to make idle small talk with some of the werewolves. It was torment, but they needed to work together if they were going to get rid of the eidolon’s, That’s what they kept telling him anyway. Ara’s eyes searched Atlas’s face, and he immediately tried to fix what he’d done. “I love it, really. This is really nice.” he stammered, smiling back at him with genuine appreciation, making a mental note to try and remember to actually wear it next time he saw him. Despite how hot the weather was starting to get. Anything to keep from seeing those upturned eyebrows and doe like eyes again. 

“Thank you. Not a lot of people I know would go out of their way to make something for someone else. I’m just glad you’re alright, Atlas.” his smile although small, was warm and real. “You’re welcome, but you know I’ll be there whenever you need me. And, next time you don’t need to get me a gift.” the wolf teased, nudging his shoulder gently. Although, he hoped it wouldn’t come to that again, “You should move out of that -- house -- you have in the woods. That’s just asking for more trouble.”

“Resent? No. Nobody comes in mind. But, not to sound emo; I’m not the biggest fan of myself, I’ve done some things I’m not proud of.” 

“Oh, I know how flammable werewolves are. Trust me.” There was something dark in the way he’d said it, but there was no sense in laying about his extensive history fighting with werewolves and vampires alike. Full moons made those creatures unpredictable, and vampires he’d hated since his first encounter with one. It took plenty of fire to kill both, but he had plenty to spare.

“If your idea of a date includes getting your neck scorched, you have a twisted sense of romance.” Damien scoffed. But he was, in all sense, correct in his assumption that he was doing something right. Damien liked his company, which was more than he could say for most others. Usually one night stands were a shrugged off memory, dismissed as quickly as they’d come into his arms. For whatever reason Ara lingered under a fond eye was a mystery. 

Damien quickly unlocked his door and urged Ara inside, shutting it behind them and waiting to see if his wards blocked out the spirits trailing at their heels. He felt his magic pull towards the door, sensing the malicious intent, and thankfully, they remained outside, though their empty faces pressed against windows, watching and taunting. "In here.” Damien said as he went to a darkened door across from his bedroom, the wood looking to have been touched by fire at some point. It was dark inside, a long table with lit candles and a few old books in one corner. Shelves on the walls held glass jars full of questionable herbs and items, and in a glass unit illuminated by red light, was a number of vials containing blood. “Just don’t touch anything. I can’t emphasize that enough.”

Ara could sense the sinister connotations behind his words, but decided not to pry. Some werewolves were monsters, he could understand that. Suddenly he no longer felt comfortable around him.  Absently he brought his hand up to gently brace against the hot wound around his neck. Witches weren’t anything new to Ara, but it wasn’t often that he’d find one with an affinity to fire. It should be funny, a fireman afraid of fire. “Right -- arguably most things are flammable.” 

“Not the worst second date I’ve had,” he mused ducking inside of the other mans home, perhaps he should have been more mad that Damien had nearly scorched his neck to shit. But, he couldn’t help but worry about the witch, these Eidolon’s weren’t fucking around. They got into your mind and made you think some pretty dark things, he was worried that maybe Damien might be on the edge, about to break. Even though they hardly knew each other, Ara felt as though it was only right to stay beside him. 

“Hi,” Gabriel smiled a little bit, taking in the way Ara looked at him before deciding that this was definitely the right idea. After all, he just needed something from the werewolf – and whether or not the other even realized what was happening or not didn’t bother Gabriel. After all, it’d be a nice experience for the werewolf. “It’s good to see you. Where have you been hiding?” He asked the innocent question, pulling Ara towards him and back into the shadows of the nightclub, where they were briefly highlighted by some of the flashing lights ever two to three seconds. “Thought you’d disappeared on me.”

There were of course the odd warning sign here and there that screamed for Ara to just pay attention, that Gabriel wasn’t as nice as he seemed. But, the werewolf was completely captured by his allure. Like walking right into a trap, Ara obediently followed the other man deeper into the club. The mans question was so casual, Ara almost felt as though it was genuine, and not just a coy trick of seduction; which was undoubtedly working already. “Here and there,” he tried to match the same coyness however flustered and unpracticed. He flashed a nervous smile when his gaze met dark and welcoming eyes, shining like embers as the bright lights flashed over his features, making him look even more mysterious and seductive than the night he met him. “Well, I’m here now, did you want something from me?”