ššššššššš: velvet curtains moth-eaten at the edges, trophies hidden in a box, old photographs of him smiling in newspapers and empty wine bottles on a marble mantle
ļ½”* Ā Ā āŖ Ā Ā Ā š Ā āŗ Ā Ā BIOGRAPHY.
bastian ashbourne was supposed to be untouchable. the heir to a dynasty that built prism falls from its trees ā logging magnates who turned sawdust into fortune, then fortune into influence. the ashbournes became politicians, philanthropists, the kind of family whose name was carved into plaques and courthouse steps. bash was their crown jewel: his fatherās sharp reputation, his motherās disarming beauty, and a future gilded from the start. the boy others compared themselves to, all polish and promise. for a while, he was just that. bash ruled the cityās social scene, the one everyone wanted to know, his life a string of easy wins.
then came the scandal. it started with cards and dice, the rush of winning more intoxicating than the whiskey in his glass. poker bled into horses, into debts he couldnāt shake, into underground games hosted in the ashbourne manor itself. when it all blew up, the tabloids feasted. enemies of his family called it proof of corruption, and bashās name became shorthand for arrogance. his parents believed he could become a better man but they'd never have the chance to see it. one night, one bottle too many, one car too fast, and the crash that stole their lives. the official story spoke of a deer, a storm, a cruel twist of fate, but bash has never forgiven himself. it doesnāt matter if no one else blamed him. he was there. he survived. they didnāt.
now, bash lives in the ruins of his former life. the golden boy turned cautionary tale. the manor is quiet, the parties long gone, but the shadows remain. he poured what was left of the family fortune into black diamond brewers, the bar his parents once adored, and let someone else keep the lights on. most donāt even know he still owns it; they assume the manager runs it, and bash prefers it that way. heās more likely to be found hunched at the corner stool with a drink in hand than behind the bar. a relic haunting his own inheritance. smugness and sharp wit keep people at armās length, his laugh too loud and his glass always too full, but itās all armor, distraction from the grief that hollowed him out. underneath the bravado is someone fiercely loyal, tender in ways he resents, a man who yearns for connection and redemption even as he convinces himself he deserves neither.
ex girlfriend ā these two dated when bash was still the golden boy, she noticed the cracks starting in his mask and tried her best to let him know that she was there for him. still he broke up with her after his parents died because he didn't want the stink of his reputation to rub off on her ( 1/1 ) taken by adelaide
ex fling ā this relationship happened after he broke up with his ex. if you were to ask bash he'd say they were never anything serious but when things started to feel a little too much like a relationship he cut it off and has been avoiding them ever since
the bad influence ā these two met while bash was still partying and anytime they get together it's like all of the progress he's made, not that he's made much, goes right out the window and he's back to being a reckless teenager. willing to risk everything for the high of the thrill. ( 1 / 2 ) taken by gabriel
the gambling buddy ā the person who once sat across from him at the tables, whispering odds and sharing cigarettes. maybe they still do. with them, temptation is always close at hand, and he's lost more than just money to their influence.
the good influence ā at some point in time these two became friends, they're convinced that underneath all his swearing and pushing people away there's a good ... well maybe decent person and they're gonna find him. hopefully. ( 1/1 ) taken by roseline
the rival heir ā their familyās money and history in town is just as hold as bash's and itās been a quiet feud since they were children. his parents always compared the two of them, and now that he's lost them, the rivalry feels all the more bitter. he'd never admit it, but he measures himself against them constantly.
the skeptic ā someone who remembers him in his golden boy days and never bought into the shine. they called the downfall before it came, and theyāre not shy about reminding him of it now.
the confidant ā they knew him before it all went wrong. theyāve seen him at his best and at his absolute worst, and still they stick around. he tells himself he doesn't deserve their loyalty, but that doesnāt stop him from leaning on them more than he should
the anchor ā the one person who doesnāt flinch at his temper, his drinking, or his cruelty. they donāt treat him like a cautionary tale, justā¦ normal. heād never say it out loud, but being around them feels like breathing again. ( 1/1 ) taken by lorelei
the ghost ā someone tied to his parentsā past ( a business partner, a family friend, maybe even a former employee ) every time he sees them he's reminded of the life he lost and the legacy he's squandering. he avoids them when he can, but they always seem to resurface when he least wants them to. ( 1/1 ) taken by cassandra
the younger shadow ā someone who grew up idolizing him in his golden boy years, who still looks at him with stars in their eyes even now. he though he wants to warn them off, to tell them he's no example to follow, some selfish part of him clings to the adoration.
the reluctant business partner ā tied to black diamond brewers in some way ( maybe an investor, maybe someone who runs supplies through town ) he donāt trust them, they donāt trust him, but somehow they're forced to work together to keep the place afloat.
miscellaneous ā neighbors in amethyst arbor, people who frequent black diamond brewers, current or former friends, someone who just constantly talks smack about him
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gabriel's brows furrow the second the other shoves the animal at him once answering the door. "yes, hello to you, too, ashborne, my day has been quite lovely, thank you." his tone is drenched in deep sarcasm as he eyes the creature, unimpressed, though raising a brow once hearing why the commotion was being delivered to his door today. "hm, no, can't say the thing belongs to me, unfortunately...as much as I would love to take the credit for this...although now that you mention it, perhaps the missus would like a little beast roaming around the space? since it's gone out of it's own way to give you such a hard time, I wouldn't mind opening my home, to--ow!" he brings his hand back quickly as the cat gnaws at his thumb after his attempt to pet it. "seems to share your bite...probably cleaner, too...look at that, you might just deserve each other."
he tried, really tried, not to laugh but the sight of gabriel recoiling from a kitten was too much. a quiet snort broke through before he could stop it. ā damn, even cats hate you. and here i was thinking i was the unlikeable one between us. ā he reached out, prying the little creature off gabrielās thumb and holding it up by the scruff like it might start cursing next. ā now how am i supposed to give you away if you keep attacking people ? nobodyās gonna want you if you bite like he does. ā
the cat purred. smugly, almost when he pulled it against his chest, little head butting against his coat. bastian sighed, long-suffering, eyes narrowing at the tiny face peeking up at him. ā i donāt need a pet. i donāt want a pet. what the hell am i supposed to do with you ? do you feed yourself or do i gotta ā ā he cut himself off, realizing halfway through that he wasnāt sure whether he was talking to the cat or to gabriel.
ā you, ā he said finally, glancing up at his old friend, ā should buy your wife one. a companion, i mean. probably gets dull rattling around this big house all alone while youāre out pretending to be respectable. ā his mouth curved into that familiar smirk that meant he was done pretending to be polite. ā maybe i will keep it. i'll name him gabriel after his uncle he's just like you, all claws and no manners. ā
it seemed she wasn't the only one stealing glances. admiring him whenever she could. memorizing his infamous pout lines, something he did so often, yet every time they seemed to be different. they meant almost as much as his smile lines. the way his forehead moved when he smirked, right after he teased her. she watched the slope of his mouth, the cure of his jaw when he smiled. emilie would be glad that he couldn't read her mind, hear her thoughts. most of them whimsical fantasies about what life could be, the rest about him-- how often she thought of him, how good she knew he could be. one might put her in an asylum, thinking she had some crazy obsession. maybe she did?
now she was the one pouting, only hers was playful, pretending to be offended by his words. the warmth leading her into what she hoped wasn't a false sense of security. "maybe you should try it. getting lost in a book, it's an entirely different experience." she said dreamily, her eyes lighting up as she spoke. becoming more and more vibrant with each word. "i'm not worried, if I did fall in a ditch, I know you'd never leave me down there." she shrugged, grabbing on to the emotion that he seemed to be giving. letting it wrap around her like a warm blanket. even if it's only for a moment.
his plea would have had her tripping over her own feet, if she were walking. as it was, she had to fight the tremble of her knees. the way they wanted to buckle under her. her breath catching in her throat, but there was a nod. a small, barely registered nod. she could let him have this, couldn't she? the way he spoke that one word had her entire world turning on its head. "y-yeah... of -- of course." she could barely breath, her words coming out forced, practically a squeak at this point.
'it's the only way I can take care of you.'
the one sentence ringing in her ears, bouncing around her head. thoughts that usually lay perfectly in a row, so poised, organized -- were now a storm, buzzing around her head. jumbled, disorganized. a tornado of feelings she didn't know what to do with. there in the open, she needed some stability. something to hold onto, something to ground her, but there was nothing. she was lost at sea, violently looking for a life raft. "bastian... you want ---" trailing off as she watched him begin to walk away.
her mind still trying to catch up, never mind her legs. what felt like hours, but wasn't even minutes, barely even seconds later she was running after him. reaching out to grab his arm when she finally caught up. stopping him. "wait.. please, wait. you can't... we can't-- don't do that. don't take that from me. give me a second, please, just a second to enjoy it." emilie couldn't let this go, she needed it. even if it was just for the day. even if he went back to pouting. to pretending he didn't want her around. she wanted this moment, needed to know he cared, almost as much as she needed to breath. "the goats can eat each other for all I care." her eyes wide, pleading, asking for him to let her have what he just gave her.
he wasnāt afraid of love. heād tell himself that a hundred times a day if itād make it true. what he feared was what love made of him. every time he cared for someone too much, he turned clumsy and cruel, all sharp edges trying to protect something soft and small. emelie wasnāt supposed to be that something. she was light. good. untouched by the kind of rot he carried around like a second skin. if he got too close, heād ruin her. he was certain of it. heād tear the beautiful thing between them to shreds if thatās what it took to keep his heart safe. and yet, here he was, aching to hand it to her anyway.
he paused ā not because he wanted to, but because the idea of her chasing after him made something in his chest twist painfully. ā i-iām sorry. i shouldnāt have said that. ā his face burned hotter than the sun, gaze glued to the muddy soil. he couldnāt look at her. if he did, heād fold. hand over his heart and then his whole damn soul, if she asked for it. but it wasnāt right. this wasnāt how today was supposed to go.
ā of course i want to take care of you, ā he said quietly, his voice rough around the edges. ā i want you to have everything you could ever dream of. ā heād have built her a library of her own, written her a thousand poems, and ripped the evil out of himself if he could. his lips twitched into something like a smile, but it faltered halfway there, too fragile to hold.
when he finally looked up, he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face with a tenderness that betrayed every wall heād built. i canāt give it to you. i can only give you today. the words pressed heavy against his tongue, but he couldnāt let them go. saying them would make them real.
he swallowed, armor sliding back into place with practiced ease. ā are you done enjoying it now ? ā he asked, a touch of humor curling his voice as if it could erase the moment that had just cracked him open. ā or shall we continue standing here, in the middle of everyone, pretending the world isnāt watching ? ā
click here to see what bastian is wearing. as man of means with major vanity problems bastian had a new outfit made specifically for the ball. naturally he went with the finest silks, the best wool, the most expensive tailoring and the latest fashion. he paired this suit with black oxfords and a top hat and a simple black and white mask that looks like this.
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šššš + ššššš: at the end of a performance at borealis hall
bastian hadnāt even wanted to come tonight. ragtime hadn't won him over as easily as some of the others, too noisy and too proud of itself. still, heād shown up, hat in hand, maybe because the singer had a smile that made the whole room feel warmer. he was just starting to think the night might not be a total waste when the lights flickered once, twice and died altogether. ā guess that edison fella isnāt as smart as everyone says, ā he muttered under his breath, but the words were swallowed by the swell of startled voices. people stumbled over chairs, someone screamed, and in the shuffle toward the door, he collided hard with someone. ā my apologies miss, ā he said, steadying her by the arm as as he recognized her face in the dim light. ā you alright ? come on, this way ā ā he nodded toward the only light left in the room, the faint glow of the streetlamps bleeding through the door as the crowd surged forward.
šššš + ššššš: mid day outside of iridescent blooms
he hadnāt meant to linger. the scent had just pulled him in. something about the sweetness of lilac and rose together, familiar in a way that hurt if he thought too long on it. his mother used to keep vases like this one all over the house, insisting it made the place feel alive. he was halfway lost in that memory, maybe even thinking of someone else entirely, when a voice broke through his haze. ā what ?! no, no. iām not buying anything, i was justā¦ appreciating the craftsmanship, ā bastian said quickly, clearing his throat and trying to look casual despite the warmth creeping up his neck. he glanced over at cassandra, forcing a faint, crooked grin. ā are you buying flowers ? ā
šššš + ššššš: mid day outside their neighborhood
the damned thing had been following him despite his attempts to zig zag down different paths the animal insisted on following him. scooping the fowl best into his arms as he knocked on each door black cat extended like it would turn him into a pillar of salt if he held it too long. " is this thing yours ? " he demanded when the door opened, " it's been following me around annoying me to death so it must belong to you. "
Adelaide listened, her expression calm but her gaze softening with something she quickly tucked away. āA new leaf,ā she repeated, her tone light but not mocking. āI suppose thereās hope for anyone, then.ā The corner of her mouth curved amused, a polite smile that didnāt quite hide the fondness buried beneath.
āIāve beenā¦ well enough,ā she said after a breath, keeping her posture measured, hands folded neatly in her lap. āThe days have been quiet. Reflective . I find thereās a certain peace in that or at least thatās what I try to focus on.. I hope to perhaps start to study medicine that is .ā Her voice wavered only slightly, the kind of tremor that sounded more like memory than feeling.
When her eyes met his again, there was warmth there ā cautious, fleeting, but sincere. āItās good to see you making the effort, truly. Even if I imagine you still grumble through most of it.ā A soft laugh escaped her then, light and brief, before fading into a gentler tone.
āTime changes us all, doesnāt it?ā she said quietly. āIām glad to see this festival hasnāt sent you running.ā She teased
ā hope for anyone, ā he echoed, a small, rough edged laugh leaving him. ā thatās generous of you. ā his lips quirked, a fleeting smile that didnāt last long but managed to soften him all the same. ā you always did have more faith in people than they probably deserved. ā the words came lightly, but the fondness underneath them was unmistakable ā carefully tucked away, but there.
he listened as she spoke of her quiet days, her reflection, the tremor in her voice when she mentioned studying medicine. it wasnāt hard to imagine her there: poised, steady, calm under pressure. he wondered if that steadiness came from peace or from years of practice holding herself together.
ā that sounds right for you, ā he murmured. ā always fixing whatās broken. ā his thumb tapped absently against his knee. ā or trying to. though i suppose some things arenāt meant to be patched up. ā he didn't mean to be bitter, just honest, with a thread of weariness that sounded almost like understanding.
when her teasing came, he let out a genuine laugh this time, low and warm, head dipping slightly. ā youād win that bet. iāve been here an hour and already counted six things to complain about. ā the silence that followed didnāt feel as sharp as before. he glanced toward her, then the lanterns flickering gold against the dusk, and exhaled a quiet sigh.
ā time changes us, ā he repeated at last, ā but i donāt think it makes things simpler. ā a pause, his gaze flicking back to her face, searching for what he couldn't say. ā do you everā¦ miss it ? the way things were before everything got quiet ? ā
she couldn't remember much from before.. she could barely remember a time when she was truly happy. when her mother was around maybe? unfortunately she was so young then. the letters from her mother stopped coming in years ago. now she would just go back and read the old one. wondering where she went wrong, why her mother stopped responding. the only constant she truly had was the man before her. bastain ashbourne, someone who used to, and sometimes still did pick on her, but would never leave her stranded. no matter how annoying he thought she was. coming to this thing for years, mostly alone, just wandering and taking it all in. this year was already her favorite.
would they do this again? would he indulge her like this every year, or just today? should she get her hopes up? or is she just setting herself up for yet another broken heart. unfortunately it didn't matter, she was ecstatic for this time. getting lost in him and everything he was currently giving to her. she would worry about the pain when it finally hit her , lying in bed reminiscing about the day.
"yes, your favorite pastime, and i'm the odd one." she teased, trying to stop herself from grinning. instead a goofy smile took its place. nodding in agreement as her eyes scanned his jacket once more. "it is perfect for pouting.. too bad i'm not allowing that anymore, at least not today." even though it wasn't spoken out loud emilie knew he was indulging her. -- her own cheeks reddening slightly as she felt herself linger on him too long. turning her attention to something else, desperately hoping he didn't realize.
watching as he paid, her eyes betraying the rage she felt. her entire face going soft, because not many have done something so small. though there was a fire inside of her, starting to burn uncontrollably, at the thought of him not thinking she could handle two ciders. he could possibly be right, but still. "bastian..." she whispered, turning to face him as they waited for the cups. "I saved for this." her voice still soft, not wanting anyone but him to hear. now there was a frown taking place of her once vibrant smile. it was sweet, right? or did he pity her? she'd let the questions swirl around her head, not wanting to voice either of them. emilie would offer to pay him back, but she knew he'd probably scoff, make some joke she wouldn't appreciate.
this wouldn't ruin her time, anyone else would appreciate it. so why couldn't she? shaking away her thoughts, before grabbing the cider, and moving towards him. "thank you." she smiled softly, holding out his cup. glad it was in her hand, otherwise she might reach out and touch him.
"now, let's go feed those goats, before they starve."
when she wasnāt looking, he let himself watch her. really watch her. the way her lips curved when she smiled, how her eyes softened whenever she looked at him. there was something in her face he could never quite read, something quiet and beautiful that made his chest ache. he wanted to know what she was thinking. to mine every thought like a treasure and understand what went on behind those soft, secret smiles.
her grin pulled one from him before he could stop it. ā you are the odd one, ā he teased, the warmth in his voice betraying him. ā the way you walk through town with your nose buried in a book ? iām honestly amazed i havenāt seen you fall into a ditch yet. ā his tone was light, but there was affection stitched into every word, the kind that snuck out when he wasnāt guarding himself so tightly.
when her eyes darkened, though ā that flicker of hurt passing over her face ā it hit him like a punch. he hadnāt meant to take something from her. hadnāt meant to make her feel small. guilt climbed up his throat before he could choke it down. ā please, ā he said softly, the word slipping out before heād thought it through, before he could stop it from sounding so tender. ā just ā¦ let me do this for you. ā
he realized what heād said the moment it left his mouth. the words felt too heavy, too intimate, too much. his pulse quickened, and for a second he thought about retreating. making a joke, walking away, something to fix it. but he couldnāt. not when she was looking at him like that. ā itās the only way i can ā ā he faltered, searching for safer ground, but it was already too late, the truth spilling out anyway. ā itās the only way i can take care of you. ā
his breath caught, and then he was blinking, scrambling to move, to do something. he nodded once ā stiff, too quick and reached for his cup like it was a lifeline. ā right. goats, ā he muttered, clearing his throat as if it would erase the words still hanging between them. ā before they start eating each other. ā and then he was walking, pretending he didnāt feel her eyes on him, pretending he hadnāt just said something heād promised himself he never would.
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he glowered arms crossed wondering who was coming up with these questions and how the answers would help 'improve the valley' but he wanted to get this stupid conversation over with so he answered as honestly as he could.
āį° ... ššš šššš !
overall, is your muse happy with their life ? what about it brings them the most joy ?
bastian isn't happy with his life. he feels like a social outcast. the fallen golden boy who feels as though he should be farther ahed in life than he is. he's not the type of person to admit it but really he wants to get married and have a family and fall in love but he doesn't think that's the kind of thing that he can have. the things that he enjoys are very limited it's mainly spending time with the few people who push him to stop being grumpy and at least try.
in what ways is your muse unhappy with their life ? how has the curse manifested for them ? has it made them feel misery or isolation in some way ? or does it affect them differently ?
the curse both the one in his story, and in the plot, affect bastian in similar ways. he is a beast in terms of personality. when things are too good for him he ruins them. he doesn't trust himself not to revert back to his bad habits, drinking and gambling and just making risky choices and so to "protect" the people he cares about he will push them away and isolate himself. the few friends that he has are the people who don't really let him pull away and disappear.
what does your muse do for a living in the valley? how do they feel about their occupation? ( does it bring them any joy or do they hate it? )
bash owns black diamond brewers but he was doing such a bad job of running it that he, more or less, handed over operations to a manger ( i named her sofie in my head shes basically mrs pots. a sweet older woman whose worked there forever she is super sarcastic and keeps him in line but i am totally down to make this a playable character if anyone has a character that can fit that vibe ) who is the real reason his brewery has stayed afloat. he doesn't really like his job but he also doesn't really work, he just haunts the bar like a ghost, occasionally doing things when he feels like it.
what is your muse's personal philosophy or outlook on life? does it tend to be more positive or negative?
his personal motto is "everything is shit so why bother trying anyways"
what level of education did your muse receive in their early life? did they do any schooling beyond that? if so, please elaborate.
bastian's family is extremely wealthy, from the time he was a child he had a large estate to run, it was expected that he would go to college. there wasn't a choice in the matter. so he did. though he struggled along the way, he's never been particularly book smart.
does your muse currently ( post-curse ) believe in fate or destiny? what about magic?
if you were to ask him he'd say absolutely not, but there's a small part of him that does believe that fate is a thing. that said bastian believes that his fate is to suffer. that no matter what he does he will never, ever be happy, and so instead of trying to fight against it he tends to lean into that belief.
does your muse have a high or low standard of morals ? how do they feel about those with standards different from their own ?
if you were to ask him he'd say that he has very high morals but in truth it's a bit complicated. while he has high expectations of himself and others, but he also is the type of person to go against what he thinks is right if it'll help to get him what he wants.
what do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person ?
complete and utter isolation. the thought of being alone, or even worse, actually being shunned by everyone in town. everyone can see you and you're simply ignored.
do they believe redemption is possible for everyone ? if not, what would they consider as unredeemable acts ?
he doesn't believe in redemption for others because bastian doesn't even see himself as redeemable. he feels as though everything bad that's happened to his family is his fault. he got addicted to drinking and the thrill of gambling, he was the one who was drinking so heavily that his parents had to come get him, he was the one who survived the carriage accident. if he'd been at home like he should have been none of that would have happened.
what are two character values are most important to your muse, and why ?
the things that matter to him are pride / honor, while his moral code isn't exactly perfect he has a strong set of values that he upholds. like paying for the people that he cares about because money is something that means nothing to him but he knows holds the power to change others lives. the other is reciprocity, or paying what you owe, when someone's done something kind for him or even something as small as lent him something he'll go above and beyond to make sure that he pays back his debts. in part because its the right thing to do but mainly because the thought of debt, of owing something to someone makes him extremely anxious.
what are their views of dishonesty ? is there ever an acceptable time for it ?
when it comes to himself he thinks that most people don't want truth from him so he doesn't often offer it up. while he's a big rough around the edges, he feels as though he's crafted a polished version of himself and that is what he presents to the world. most times lying just comes along with this "new him". when it comes to others he hates lying, he gets irrationally angry when he finds out that someone's lied to him or even just not told him the whole truth.
are they free with their promises? are they good for their word or are they known to break it?
bastian does tend to promise things that he won't follow through with, everything from a missed hangout to a broken relationship because he couldn't handle open communication and instead decided it would be easier to tear it down. he thinks that there's a kindness in the lie rather than being forced to hear the cold harsh truth of his inner thoughts and feelings.
if you muse is native to the valley: what are their thoughts and feelings on the valley and what it is to live here? have they ever tried to leave the valley and go someplace else? if so, where did they go and what was the thing that pulled them to return?
bastian has fond memories of growing up in the valley, but he was privileged in a way that many are not, he had anything he could ever dream of. his life was gilded and while steeped with expectation, that unease didn't come from the valley but from his father. he's always wanted to leave but the only time he did was for school, college he left and as soon as he was done with his education he returned to the valley, if you ask him he'd say it was because his family needed him that he had a duty to them but the truth is that being away made him feel ... off. like something was missing and that feeling didn't subside until he was back in the valley.
is there someplace in the valley the feel happiest? how often do they go there? please explain what it might be about that location.
bastian loves going to the lake, it's his happy place, i explained more about this a few bullet points down.
is there somewhere in the valley they don't like or won't go? what is the reason behind that?
it's not that he won't go there but he tends to avoid the town square, he feels as though he's the most hated person in the village so going to the center of the town isn't exactly his cup of tea. there's also one specific road, the road his parents died on, that he never goes down. ever. he even had a new driveway built so that he could avoid it completely.
do they frequent parts of the valley that are further from town ? if so, what do they like to do out there ?
yeah bastian will go anywhere he wants, he's the type of man who prefers to spend time alone so you'll catch him walking through town despite having access to a car or carriage. he still loves to drink, to gamble and to frequent places where he won't run into people who still think highly of him and most times he gets there on foot. one of his favorite places in town is the lake, his dad would take him there when he was young and it's the one place in town where he still feels close to him. he loves camping, fishing and hiking so sometimes he'll take everything he'll need for a few days and hike out to the lake.
if they have ventured into the forest, has anything ever happened to them there that would make them believe the stories ?
bastian's family are loggers who made their money from the forest so he spent a lot of time in the woods. it was important to the elder ashbourne that they plant trees for each one they chop down and to this day that's apart of their business. when he was a kid he deeply believed in all the stories, he once even went to school and told everyone he saw a wood sprite. nobody believed him of course, as he aged the less be believed in magic, he even dismissed his memory as a trick of light.
she was doing the opposite of what she said, the opposite of what he told her to do. she wasn't supposed to hope. emilie told herself she wouldn't get too close. that she would keep him at arms length. yet whenever he was around, all of that went down the drain. she lost all of her protective barriers, and swooned like a school girl. there was something about bastian that had her weak in the knees the moment she saw him. something about him, that made her want to be close, anchored to him. his presence alone made her feel safer, yet afraid that her entire world would come crashing down.
she was a moth to a flame, addicted to that scowl.. the one that seemed to brighten whenever she was with him. the curve of his lips happening more often. -- how could she turn away from that?
"i'd bet any money that you would be right. I walked by them earlier and it took everything in me not to stop and spend all day with them." she admitted, a grin slowly pulling at her lips. just thinking about them had her getting even more excited, she almost ditched the cider all together. "just think, you may smell like goats for weeks, but every time you smell yourself you'll think of our day together. I don't think you could get luckier." she was teasing of course.
"why would you wear your favorite jacket --- here?" emilie questioned, as she turned her head his way. looking it over, a smirk taking the place of her earlier grin. "besides, you have this dark blue one... it is much better than the one you're currently wearing." some could say it was her favorite. emilie may not have realized she had just given him more than she meant to. it didn't seem like much, but it meant she noticed him. at least enough to know which jacket looked best, in her opinion. if she wasn't lost in the moment, she never would have said that out loud.
they got to the cider stall in no time, she wanted to see the goats. so she may have rushed them to their first stop. ordering two ciders, because if he was going to experience the festival with her -- she was going all out.
being here with her reminded him of when prism falls still felt like magic. before his life turned heavy in his hands. when his parents were still alive, when his mother would buy him sweets until his stomach hurt, and his father would lift him up to see the fireworks burst over the trees. later, heād brought his first love here, snuck away from the crowds to dance under the twinkling lights, to kiss her in the corn maze and swear that theyād always find their way back to each other. heād broken that promise, just like he broke most things.
but now, walking beside emilie, he couldnāt help but wonder what kind of memories heād make this time. what traditions they could create together if things were different. if he had more than just this one borrowed day. the thought hit him so hard that he had to shake it off, reminding himself again that he wasnāt allowed to want that.
ā well, i wasnāt expecting to do anything but stand here and scowl at people, ā he admitted lightly, lips twitching into something half like a smile. ā this jacketās perfect for that. ā it wasnāt the full truth, but it was close enough. heād wanted to look his best. the jacket gave him something to hide behind, made him feel put together in a way he hadnāt in a long time. still, when she mentioned the dark blue one, her favorite, something in his chest went warm and tight. she noticed things about him. things no one else bothered to. his ears burned, and he cleared his throat quickly, pretending he hadnāt heard her at all.
by the time they reached the cider stall, he was grateful for the distraction. she was already reaching for her coin purse, ready to pay, when he slipped a few copper pieces onto the counter first. old habit, maybe, or pride. maybe something softer. ā donāt even think about it, ā he murmured, his tone easy but his eyes betraying something a little more protective. she could drag him anywhere she wanted, but heād be damned if he let her spend money on him. especially when he knew she didnāt have much to spare.
one day. he kept telling himself that. just one day. but with her standing beside him, smiling like the whole world had turned gold, it didnāt feel like enough.
there was something about the darkness that soothed reina like no other. in the burning light of day, she was raw and exposed; every scowl and bit of ire would be easily seen and condemn her. thus she was forced to wear a mask of false niceties and faked smiles whenever she went out.
but the night? it offered her freedom. she could disguise her snarl in the shadows, and any sneer or sour look could be written off as just a trick of the flickering candlelight. so when everyone else in town took to bed, reina would slip out and roam the streets for hours.
she hadn't been counting on someone else having the same idea as her, however.
ā inviting strangers to journey into the woods with you? ā she chides as she emerges from where she's been pressed up against a wall. had it been another, she'd have stayed hidden until she was certain they'd passed. but bastian? she could trust him to keep her secret. he owed her that much.
ā i suppose i have no choice but to accept accept. but you're be responsible for ensuring i'm returned home before morning comes, ā she's quick as can be as she darts past him towards the trees as though it'll prevent him from changing his mind. ā or you'll have to explain to my father why i was out at this hour. ā
" a stranger ? in prism falls ? " he echoed, brows lifting as though sheād just told him the moon had fallen into the lake. " when was the last time that happened ? " the corner of his mouth quirked upward. they both knew it was rare. people here were fixtures, carved into the townās bones like initials in old wood. the same faces, the same gossip, the same quiet rhythm of life. maybe that was why he hadnāt fought his fatherās insistence on college too hard. itād been a chance to see something, anything, beyond the falls.
he almost scoffed when she called him responsible, the word sitting strange on his tongue. the idea of anyone trusting him with responsibility was laughable until she mentioned her father. that was enough to make him pale a little, remembering all too well the kind of man he was. " ah, the last thing i want is to explain to your father of all people why his daughter was roaming about after dark, " he drawled. " what would polite company think ? "
his smirk softened when she darted past him, quick as a spark. he watched her go, shaking his head with a low laugh. of course she wouldnāt wait. she never had. and maybe that was what he liked about her, the way she moved through life like a dare no one else was brave enough to take.
" hey ! " he called after her, voice laced with amusement. " do you mind waiting ? it's not much of a stroll together if you're three paces ahead the entire time. " he shoved his hands into his pockets as he started after her, the ghost of a grin playing on his lips. " unless of course, you're scared i'll change my mind and leave you in the woods with the trolls and wood sprites. "
itād been a long time since the carefree days of his youth. back when the biggest worries were midterms and hangovers, when he and jay spent nights laughing too loud and plotting the next stupid scheme. the sight of him now, standing in his bar after all those years, sent something tight and warm right through his chest. " you didn't see the welcoming pigeon ? " he grinned, abandoning the beer heād been nursing to cross the distance between them. the hug came easy, familiar ā a few solid taps on the back standing in for all the things he didnāt say aloud. i missed you. 'm glad youāre here. pulling back, he gave the man an exaggerated look of mock disapproval. " damn it, i'm going to have to fire that bird. look at you though. same face, even more gorgeous hair. i was truly hoping you'd be balding by now. " his grin widened, " tell me the journey hasnāt chewed you up completely ? "
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.~Ā°~ā¢~.~Ā° now that he'd spent most of his time enjoying the pumpkin carving and way too much cider, taran wanted to experience more. somehow, he'd found himself standing next to a goat. it stood there, staring up at him and his hand rubbed his head. "this thing's a lot cuter than he should be," taran explained, laughing lightly. "but it's more exciting with company," he winked, gesturing for them to pet the goat as well. a good flirtatious moment was always fun, no matter who it was with.
bastianās eyes flicked from him to the goat before narrowing, head shaking firmly. " absolutely not, i've only just got that little demon to stop trying to dig in my pockets for more food. " still, his arms folded across his chest as though he needed the extra barrier, though the faintest tug of a smile betrayed him. " besides, you look like youāve already made a friend. why would i get in the way of true love ? "
