new heart

The mansion’s door creaked as it opened slowly, making the blonde cringe. Sneaking out late at night to skinny dip in the lake was certainly a … bizarre idea even for Melody, maybe even too bizarre to make her realize that she didn’t even bring a towel or something else to dry herself with. Now here she was, taking the first few tip-toes on the mansion’s cold floors before turning around to shut the front door, making a thud sound in the process. She cringed again at the sound.

Melody figured she’ll let it be, turning around again to see a person, ultimately shocking her. She almost slipped on the floor but steadied herself, smiling nervously at the other before her. “Oh dear– u-um, good evening!” Tone laced with hastiness, she realized how odd she must have looked. Blonde hair still dripping wet while wearing a dark blue bikini top, with dark denim shorts and for some reason, bare feet. “Fancy seeing you here..” She trailed off, her eyes flashing with embarrassment as she avoided eye contact.

Terrance’s sleep schedule was still all over the place — to put it most accurately, he didn’t have much of one. Tonight he found himself awake at random, and rather than laying in bed and trying to get back to sleep, he thought a moonlit walk in the peace of the night sounded much better.

The creaking of the door startled him, and his gaze widened as he walked on towards it, half nervously investigating and half simply continuing his way out of the mansion. As the door grew closer, so did the woman in front of it, finally coming into shape in the dark. She seemed to notice him around the same time, sputtering her greeting. “Hey— G-Good evening,” he echoed. His eyes adjusted more and more, and finally came to see that she was barely dressed and dripping from her hair. Interesting. “Me?” The witch hesitantly averted his eyes to the floor, sensing that she was uncomfortable. “A-Aren’t you, uh, cold?”

Armed with coffee and his new smartphone, Richmond took to working out his monthly budget in the nearest (and cheapest) cafe, procrastinating on his New Year’s resolution for a few hours more. He planned to try his hand at forming relationships outside of the small, close-knit group of friends he’d kept most of his life. It was a goal brought on by the sudden realization he was nearing forty and hadn’t had a date in a little over two years. Time seemed to be closing in on him and, as a witch who was wary of meddling in life-extending magic, he needed to take the bull by the horns. 

But not now. 

That was until he looked up from the list of business expenses he had to cover for “Tricks and Trinkets’ - the shop he ran with his mother - and realized there were no open tables. Just the occasional empty seat across from people sitting by themselves. The universe was having none of his cowardly avoidance tactics it seemed, and so he did what anyone would’ve done in his situation and stood awkwardly next to an open chair. “Do you mind if I sit here?” 

Almost everything Ter came across seemed like something to get used to — even the most normal things, like drinking coffee. He’d ordered a large one, wanting the energy from it as well as the sense of normal adult he figured it’d give him, but one sip had him pouring in excess amounts of sugar and cream to try to fix up the taste... That was better.

He sat down at one of the last open tables and sipped at his sweetened drink, thoughts fading away as he eyed the colorful pastries at the counter. It was a good thing he’d gotten so into exploring on his feet, or all the new food he’d been trying lately would quickly be catching up with him.

The voice in front of him took a moment to register in his mind. He quickly turned his attention away from the counter and toward the other, head snapping up to look at the man. “Do I—” What was the right answer to this — he did mind or he didn’t mind? Too much about language confused him now that it was so accessible. “I, uh, y-you can sit here, yeah.”

lily was walking around as she explored the area when someone else almost fell. she was instantly by their side as she feared what may happen. ‘ are you alright? ’

It’d just been cold enough to get frosty outside, leaving parts of the ground slick. Ter wasn’t prepared for it at all — he didn’t even have a proper coat, and definitely didn’t know how to navigate the slippery path. It caught him by surprise when he slipped, in just enough time to grab onto a tree nearby and steady himself. He looked around to see if anyone had witnessed him, and was met by the question. “Me?” he tried to play it off, though he was still shaken. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine.’

“Wool-gathering, like, um …” Wren screwed up his face trying to figure out the etymology of the expression, then gave up with an amused snort. “I got no idea why it’s called that, but it’s when your mind is occupied and you don’t notice what else is going on around you. Maybe when people gather wool they have to concentrate on it and nothing else? I don’t even know.”

The other witch stammered his way through introductions and Wren nodded at Terrance’s revelation of also being a witch, not wanting to make the poor fellow even more anxious. “Half-witch? Well, it means I’m not as powerful as a full witch, and my powers showed up later in life.” He grinned. “Basically I’m a sucky witch.”

“Oh. Makes s-sense.” It didn’t, at least he didn’t understand why or how it had anything to do with wool, but he was learning not everything was literal, nor did it seem to be a big deal. The explanation worked well enough. “I mean, I sure w-wasn’t noticing what was g-going on around me, so I-I get it.”

open starter ;; parker wallace

“I hope you have a decent excuse for interrupting me. These plans have to be perfect and if you plan on distracting me, I require warning.”

Yes, Terrance had been softly humming to himself as he wandered the corridor. Yes, — it seemed he’d just entered the wrong room thinking it was his own, and only just realized it wasn’t when the man spoke. But no, he hadn’t meant to interrupt anyone. “S-Sorry, I thought—” he mumbled, trying to collect himself before speaking again, “I-I thought this w-was my room, sorry. D-Didn’t mean to... distract you.” Must’ve been another floor.

Two hundred years may have been and gone but it didn’t stop Aphra flinching when he admitted that he was a witch. There was still a very prejudice part of her that forgot exactly who she was, instead judging those around her. Probably wasn’t the best idea on an island such as this one.

Still there was another part of her; one more human, even though she hadn’t owned that part since her turning, that could tell that he wasn’t even close to being evil. “I mean if you could that’d be great, don’t burn yourself out though.” She gave a little laugh at her unintentional pun, but quickly composed herself.

It took Terrance a moment to realize she was joking and put all of the pun’s pieces together. He wasn’t the best with jokes that weren’t blatantly obvious — he’d get there one day. He laughed quickly, trying to hide that he hadn’t immediately gotten it, and then played along, “I-I’ll try not to... Maybe I’ll work on an ex-extinguisher spell later.” It’d probably be a good idea anyway, if he was going to keep literally playing with fire.

The witch kept his hand outstretched, gaze moving toward it to focus on his palm. His brows pushed together as he tried to clearly imagine the fire in his hand, until a tiny flame burst forth, only to fade out a moment later. “Oh...”

           there’s something lonely about him. he fidgets and wavers, stumbling even in speech; insecure and awkward in the kind of way that’s endearing to the young werewolf. she finds herself further charmed by the dimples that dent the man’s cheeks as he flashes her a smile. he’s almost precious, in a way, and margot’s got a soft spot for precious things. adjusting the guitar strap slung across her shoulder, she fixes a smile on him as warm as sunshine and gives a little laugh at his question, shaking her head.‘ no, i’m not and what a shame that is ! can you imagine how much easier it’d be to get a record deal if i was ? ’ another laugh, soft and airy. wisps of golden tresses momentarily blow across her face aided by a gust of wind and she lifts a hand to pin them back behind her ear. ‘ i’m a werewolf. a singin’ one, ’ she adds humorously, strumming another chord for him. ‘ i s’pose singin’ is my idea of howlin’ at the moon. ’ chuckling at her terrible joke, she studies the stranger in front of her a bit more. now that they’re talking species, what’s his ? she thinks she already knows. he smells human, but since he’s on the island she’s knows he’s not that so she’s guessing a witch. her smile grows; oh, witches are perhaps her favorite. magic was fascinating. plus this one’s also incredibly easy on the eyes. the girl’s eyes light appreciatively. ‘ i’m margot. ’

“A-A record deal, huh?” Ter nodded, entertaining the thought. “Prob’ly would be easier for them, y-yeah— but if you want one, I’m sure you could.” He was confident in most people, even before knowing much about them or their talents. “Y-You seem good, anyway.” From the little bit that he’d heard. “A singin’ werewolf,” he echoed before chuckling at her joke, “Can you s-sing as a wolf, too then?” The witch was half-joking, but wholly curious about her species. He’d never been around werewolves much before coming to the island, and he loved the idea of turning into another animal. Maybe it’d be something he could attempt himself one day, when he had a better hand on his magic. “Margot?” Unfamiliar to him, but pretty. He grinned, extending his hand to shake. “I’m Terrance. Or Ter... Either one.”

Felicity was new to the mansion, and for a while had been hunted as a witch. So to have a safe haven was something she was very enthusiastic about. She was slightly cold in her emotions at times, so that enthusiasm perhaps wasn’t shown too much. The blonde stepped out from her corridors, eager to meet and get to know the others that were here. She was up for anything, so no matter how the introduction came she was okay. Having woken from a sleep, she wore a thin white nightgown. Her hair fell down her shoulders and she peeked around for someone.

Since he’d arrived, Terrance had been too excited to get much sleep, waking and exploring at random hours. He was safe, free, and more than ready to see what — and who — the island had to offer. Turning a corner, he nearly ran into someone in the dark, and stepped back with a blink, eyes slowly adjusting. “Sorry— a-almost hit ya,” he murmured, slowly becoming less and less anxious — and thus somewhat less apologetic — towards people. “Y-You okay? Or just w-wandering too?”

Rose~ Starter

The overwhelming theme of Rose is… Rose. The color drips off of her, from her neatly trimmed and glossed fingernails, to the natural hue of her smiling lips; even her wardrobe is saturated with varying shades of pale, rose pink. Pale blonde locks flow cascadingly over petite shoulders and down a slim back. She is the very picture of innocence. 

Or she would be, where it not for the sharp cut of her eyes, wide and blue but dark, promising all manner of sin, pleasurable and otherwise. She would be, were it not for the clothing she wore, pretty and pink, yes, but cut high at her thighs and low at the neck, suited more for a wedding night than a Saturday morning. With indulgent black silk sheets as her backdrop, bedroom door flung open wide, inviting, in uncaring obscenity, there is nothing innocent about her now.

“Well, aren’t you going to join me?” she all but purrs, one finger tracing the hem of her nighty daintily.

It wasn’t hard for Terrance to get lost, either outside on the island or within the mansion itself. The new privilege of roaming as he pleased was easy to get overwhelmed by and kept his head spinning as he took in the beauty and opulence around him. Maybe he needed to work out some sort of navigation spell — once he could figure out some more basic ones, of course.

He’d been attempting to find his way back to his room when he discovered the open door, and after a pause outside of it, the blonde within. He stared shamelessly, taking in the combination of pink and black that enveloped her on her bed. Her words startled him into averting his gaze, until he processed what she’d asked. 

Frantically trying to get her lighter to work, the blonde eventually came to the conclusion that it was as dead as she was. With a sigh, she perched on the close by bench, not having the heart to put the cigarette she desperately craved back in it’s box. Instead she just stared at it longingly, hoping that would make up for the fact she was unable to smoke it. 

It was a leftover addiction from when she was human, and although she wasn’t sure if she still could have addictions like that, it often distracted her from the urge to feed. Looking up at the person walking past, she guessed that it was worth asking. “Any chance you’ve got a light?”

It had become a bit of a practice for Terrance to try to be a bit more... mindful on his walks. Not in the sense of meditation, though maybe that was a secondary, unnoticed benefit, but he was just aiming to be more aware of who and what was around him, without being so on edge. His eyes were this time set on the woman in front of him as he sidled past her, taking her in before his attention drifted to the next thing ahead of him — until she spoke.

“A light?” he repeated, gaze shifting to the sky as if to point out that it was plenty light out, before it jumped back to the blonde and her cigarette. “Oh. N-No. I don’t smoke.” The witch shook his head, before an idea rushed into it. “I-I could try—” he reached out for the pack before explaining, “I’m a witch.” A witch without much practice, but that would become clear soon enough.

        she walks along a lone path, trampling over dirt and underbrush as one foot moves in front of the other. it’s been a minute or so since the young werewolf’s bothered to look up from the old acoustic guitar she’s carrying. she tunes it idly, singing quietly beneath her breath. ‘ when you’re standin’ on the moon, she could ━ ’ the next moment she’s being interrupted by the sudden collision of her body against someone else’s. she jumps back, equally as startled as the person across from her, but recovers much faster. if only so she can hurry and assuage the worries that have the man struggling through an apology for something this harmless. she waves off his apology, wide green eyes softening as they meet dark irises and a gentle smile touches her face. ‘ oh — it’s alright. i think we both might’ve not been mindin’ where we were treadin’, ’ she offers a solution with equal guilt for them both. she glances down at the guitar still clutched tightly in her hold and as if to make a point she gives it a demonstrative strum, smiling as the chord sounds out perfectly. ‘ see ? no harm done. all’s forgiven. ’ one look into those doe eyes of hers shining nothing but warmth and it’s easy to believe that all just might be forgiven. 

“Oh, y-yeah. Maybe so.” He nodded along with her explanation, relaxing just slightly as it became clear everything was fine. As he finally caught up with his stumbling apology and her waving it off, his focus finally moved to the woman in front of him and he wondered how he hadn’t paid attention sooner. She was beautiful and capable of making music, that much was made clear by her quick strum no the guitar. It almost seemed like a power in its own to him — maybe it was. Ter smiled, mind echoing her all’s forgiven and trying to move on from the collision, attention now fixed on the guitar. “A-Are you a... a siren, then?” They were the ones that sang, so the assumption made sense to him, as little as it might have to anyone else.

“Easy,” Wren laughed lightly, reaching out to hold Terrance’s shoulders and stabilize them both. “You look like you were wool-gathering pretty hard, no harm done.” Stepping back to a more personal space distance, Wren held out his hand. “I’m Wren, I’m a witch,” he said. Then he considered the other man’s somewhat nervous demeanour, and added, “…half-witch, that is. Trying my best.”

Eric stopped when he noticed the other walking towards him, not paying attention. The siren thought the other would notice him before actually crashing into him. However, that wasn’t the case. Eric wasn’t bothered, however. “Don’t worry about it, cutie. Are you okay?” He asked with a tilted head and a smirk on his lips.

“O-Okay.” Cutie? Terrance silently pondered the other’s choice of words as a slight blush lit up his cheeks. “Yeah. I-I’m fine,” he nodded, about to leave his answer at that before reminding himself of the social skills he was still working on. “A-Are you?” It could be assumed that he was, but it was nice to check, wasn’t it?

Anastasia had been awake for quite some time, just enjoying the morning sun on her skin and the faint sound of the ocean outside the glass doors– she would have to take a nice long swim today to quench her inner beast. Only when she heard the bedroom door open did she remove her mask, perhaps this was the real owner of the room. “I apologize, but I require my room to be changed to this one. If this is your room you may have mine,” She smiled sweetly, as if it were within her power to make such arrangements.

Terrance had always been an early riser, even as a child. He’d hoped to start experiencing this so-called sleeping in when he’d gotten to the island, but so far he’d been out of luck — not that he minded so much. Seeing the sunrise, not to mention from a high cliff overlooking the ocean that he’d stumbled upon, was more than worth it. But when he ventured back to his room, he quickly sensed someone else. His body bristled, half expecting an intruder, only to be met with the soft voice accompanying the view of the blonde. His mouth was stuck open as he listened to her in confusion. “W-What— Aren’t they a-all the same?” Similar, at least? “W-Wait, how’d you get here?” They hadn’t... no, he’d know if they had, right? He’d definitely remember. But better to check. “Did w-we, uh—?” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to think back.

Thin, blonde eyebrows raised for a moment in surprise, which slowly backed down as Hadley collected herself. Ruby red coated lips then curled upward in a forgiving, friendly smile. “ Good evening to you too, ” The siren’s accent had a hint of Brooklyn. “ You’re lucky I wasn’t carrying a cup of something, that would’ve ended catastrophically. “ She lightly joked.

The round brown eyes stared at the woman’s face for any hint of response as she recovered, smiling after what felt like an eternity. His lips copied hers, pulling up in relief. “Oh. Y-Yeah. Good evening...” He ran a hand through his hair, brows pushing together at her joke. “Why?” Catastrophic was bad, right?