calamity

CLOSED BLOG FOR hollowayhqs penned by anna (she/they)

His retirement had been, to put it gently, impulsive, life-altering, equal amounts kind and terrible. A rogue ambush leaving his partner dead and him in a coma for three months before doing his damndest to cut all ties with everything the hunting life had to offer. His family included, his father still the man of the house, the leader, burning the bridge between him and Alexis the moment there was even the faintest change of heart. Now, he was being accused of looking and acting like a serial killer. It’s all in jest, entirely teasing, and he takes it in stride. He’s been called and accused of much worse. He’s got a feeling she doesn’t know a thing about him. And that’s fine. He’s happy to build a story around him, if only to keep his peace. “ Ah. Of course. ” Still noncommittal, but there’s a little back-and-forth of his head, like he’s contemplating. “ I take almost a year to build a cabin form the ground-up, on the edge of a little town that looks like it’s something out of a postcard, so I can… Build a scary death dungeon for a basement. ” There it is. He’s teasing now too. “ Great start to my retirement. ”

Weather calling him ‘ Paul Bunyun ’ a compliment or not, he doesn’t quite know, or really care either way. He’ll take it. “ Gets cold on the lakeshore. ” But he will defend himself, just a little, for his very stereotypical, but very practical, choice in attire. “ Surprised you’re not cold yourself. ” Though, as she said, she can take care of herself. He can pass that off as a simple observation. There’s a beat before he gave her what she was looking for. “ Alexis. ” He’s never been great with first impressions. His name is a little heavy, almost embarrassed. “ And you, miss… ? ” He didn’t want to give her that it was nice, meeting her, nice getting to have a real conversation that was so light, so open, after all this time. Things are soft, but not quite malleable.

If someone was ‘confessing’ to being a serial killer, a normal person would steer clear but not Camille, her grin widening ever so slightly as she chuckled in response to his killer scenario. “I can just hear the True Crime podcast now.” she replied with a laugh. “Netflix deals, books, crime fangirls stalking the place.”  

“I’ll bet, but there are coats.” she teased, “Why is it always the plaid? I swear they could make an alternative pattern or something.” she tilted her head a little, truth be told it did suit him, the rugged look and she wasn’t even the slightest bit serious about the comments regarding his shirt. 

The comment about her seemingly not being cold caught her off guard, though she fought to keep her features neutral, making a mental note to add layers in this weather. “I never was one to feel the cold,” the lie came easily to her, given that she lied as naturally as she breathed throughout her life. To her family, her friends, herself. It was easy. 

She was perfectly happy to wait for him to decide if he wanted to provide a name, and when he introduced himself, she gave a slight nod of her head in greeting. “Alexis,” she repeated, hoping committing it to memory as she realised this meant she had to give her own name. 

“Cami.” she replied, “I moved here only a couple of months ago, and I just like the lake. I find it calming. But uh, I am curious what kinda things you were warning me of... like bears?” she asked, knowing full well it probably wasn’t bears that he was referring to. 

Amara was naturally flirty and affectionate towards people, that had always been just part of her. Though she had never really had too many relationships. Maybe it was her magic made her a little distant or maybe she just didn’t need it in her life but she was often content in her own company or around close friends. “No? It’s what you decide to make it. You can decide to make it a negative thing or you can be a strong independent woman?” she shrugged. 

“You can do whatever you feel you need to but it should be for you.” She raised a brow. “Escape plan? Are we in some action movie now?”

“I didn’t realise having a negative thought cancelled out being a strong independent woman?” she replied, arching an eyebrow. The two weren’t mutually exclusive, were they? She had always considered herself strong, and independent. “Even strong, independent women can have moments of doubt and negativity.” she replied. 

“I’ve always been more into thrillers, with a bit of mystery thrown in.” she replied with a smirk.

Holly laughed at Camilla’s confidence, although she was far from surprised. If there was something she’d learnt about her it was that she was able to shine under nearly any circumstances. She squeezed her shoulder again, affectionately. “I am… having fun with this.” She held up her glass of pink prosecco. “Usually yearly, but they’ll find any excuse for a party if i’m honest… and they love a theme. It’s usually tacky this one is surprisingly… nice.” 

Camille offered the other a smile as she grinned at the glass in Holly’s hand, “Oh girl, good everyone needs a night off and what better day to do so then today?” she asked, though she didn’t often need an excuse herself. “I kinda like it, it feels more welcoming.” she admitted, parties in New York hadn’t been like this, she had grown up amongst stiff upper class people who didn’t know how to have fun. “It’s really cute, honestly.”

           ――――――――――― ⌽ ―――――――――――

Lana never had been much of a morning person, getting up no earlier than 10 am if she could help it at all. Having a second cup of coffee by lunchtime was more a morning for the she-wolf than it really was in the afternoon. She’d found the sweetest of spots, it was quiet and she could imprint the layout of the town from the incredible view the lookout offered. Her legs were stretched out and braced atop the seat across from her as she sat at a table set for two, sipping on the second coffee in hopes of waking her up.

It really was a nice view and for a moment Lana found herself venturing up old memories of distant views and times she’d left behind. Fortunately her thoughts were broken by another patron voicing their sort of backhanded compliment, though Lana didn’t believe it had been intended in any sort of way. A smirk pressed at her lips and Lana dragged her blue eyes away from the view she had been taking in to glance at the woman who had spoken, eyes drifting over the woman then rolled her shoulders and took another sip of her coffee before speaking.

“I don’t know, some people really enjoy the intimacy a disconnected place can offer,” Lana mused, matching the openness to her statement as she leaned back in her seat and stretched her arms a bit. “– when was the last time you checked out that view or took a quiet walk among the trees?” The question was innocent but that was what this place had struck in the wolf, her love for nature and being close to it had been distorted by so many years in big cities and places of constant motion.

She knew that would be the answer, it was always the answer. Enjoy the quiet, the disconnect. Camille wanted to gag over the quiet, it was so suffocating to her, but this was the woman who had spent thirty years in bustling cities, unable to sleep without noise in the background, so used to the constant hum of traffic from cars or the muffled sounds of her neighbours in the background. “And some people like to check their emails without having to do the signal dance of the technological gods.” she replied, though that wasn’t the only reason she thought wifi was needed. Of course, it was helpful, given she was supposed to be receiving a call about work and wasn’t about to spend the day sat in her apartment waiting bored. 

“And, yesterday, FYI. It’s not that I’m against nature and being amongst the trees and whatever, but the two don’t exactly go hand in hand. Having wifi doesn’t mean everyone is going to stop enjoying nature.” she replied, leaning back in her own chair with her arms folded across her chest, she knew that she sounded petulant, but the blonde had been more than frustrated with life for the past few months. Getting worked up about the wifi was her small attempt to try and unleash some of her frustrations at how her life had changed since the end of last year. It was pathetic, she was aware, but equally, it was better then letting loose the way some vampires could. 

Orion knew the feeling of knowing loneliness. He felt it for a number of years now. Between his mother, Rosaline, and everyone that ebbs and flows in his life: it was a wonder he was a loner. He was curious and looked over the other’s shoulder’s because of boredowm. He clicked his tongue. 

“You were just looking at two people.” He replied with a tsk. “It wouldn’t warrant death come darling.” There was a chuckle. “Would there be any incentive if I took you home.” He asked. Orion didn’t mind amusing the person in front of him if there wasn’t an emotional investment. 

“Sure it would, if I didn’t like her photo from ... oh god, like three years ago? That’s just pathetic. And obviously stalkerish.” and completely transparent and rude, given she had broken up with him, in the cowardly way possible. She wouldn’t blame him if he blocked her, she was surprised he hadn’t already. She would’ve had the situation been reversed. 

She indicated for another drink from the barman, who was most likely done with her shit already, and downed what remained of her cocktail, thankful for supernatural abilities to consume alcohol that had come with the transition into vampirism. “To not die? Depends on how the night went, if it was cringe then... maybe not.” she replied with a smirk, taking her newly arrived drink with a shrug. “If it’s any good, then ... heck maybe I’ll live to die another day.”

Holly had been trying to avoid everyone and everything, the town parties were often cliche and full of the weird distant family members she tried to avoid. She laughed, wrapping an arm around Camilla. “I do look hot. And so do you.” She rested her head against her friend, smiling for the photo. “You always look phenomenal and you know that.” 

“Of course I do,’ she replied with a grin, “But I’ll gladly take the compliment,” she added, always in for flattery and sweet words. The easiest way to her heart, it was obvious, she was a creature of vanity and sometimes just a sweet compliment was enough to melt the blonde. She posed for the photos, looking back at them to study that they were good or if they needed more. “Well, I try.” she added, an understatement, given how long she’d taken to get ready. “Are you having fun? Do they do this a lot here? I don’t think I’ve ever been to anything like this.”

Amara often embraced being single, she was a smart woman. She’d built her career, she cared about her magic and she was barely thirty. She’d never felt the need to settle down. She wasn’t a big Valentine’s believer but she was here to dress up for herself and to drink and eat free food. 

She looked over at the other, raising a brow. “Sounds dramatic,” she stated, leaning on the bar beside the girl. “We? Because I am happy going home to my cats.”

“Yeah, well I’m about to be cast as a single white female, so dramatic is about right,” she replied with a scoff, contemplating places that would be nice to retire to and avoid everything. Tropical island with no cell reception and wifi sounded good right about now, a real 180 from the girl who complained about the lack of wifi in a cafe just the week before. You’re an idiot, Cami. She cast a brief gaze at the woman she’d inadvertently spoken to, and shrugged, not exactly inclined to force someone on her spiral downwards. 

“Fine by me, more for me.” she replied lightly before downing the last remnants of her cocktail as the bartender came over and she ordered another. “And that’s fine, but I don’t have a cat to go home to I have an empty apartment, social media and no self control so looks like I’m going for the ultimate distraction until I find some semblance of it once more. Or come up with an escape plan, either works.”

She wasn’t in the mood to party even before falling into a deep dive of her former boyfriends instagram and finding out he was probably dating again, but she was determined to try and stay for at least long enough to get as many compliments for her look as she could. She had gone all out, and perhaps taking formal more to heart with the dress she had been planning to wear for a gala in Paris. So, she wanted to get a lot of wear out of it, who could blame her? Spotting a familiar face, she forced a bright smile to her lips as she came face to face with Holly, “Holly ! You look like a vision, girl. Come take a photo with me, we need to document how hot we look.”

“Oh these are good,” Camille had a habit of talking out loud to herself, and more often then not she would find herself muttering away or having a full on conversation with herself. She looked crazy when she did it, but it had become so commonplace that it would often be a long time before she realised. Tonight, she was quick to pick up on it though, and covered by turning to the nearest person to share her love of the little mini valentine themed desserts. “Hey, you! You should try these, they’re amazing. Trust me.”

She shouldn’t have looked on instagram. She’d been feeling nostalgic and overly emotional as she decided to not spend Valentine’s weekend in old sweats watching Sex and the City reruns and eating her feelings, she’d tried that the night before when she initially decided she wouldn’t attend the town dance. Then, she’d switch it up to something gorier and working her way through horror movie after horror movie that didn’t work, she’d dragged the dress that she initially had planned to wear for Valentine’s day had she remained in Paris and dragged her ass to the dance. 

She had another cocktail in her hand, already her third, and feeling more buzzed than she had all day, she had been bold and decided to scan her ex boyfriends instagram page. She’d left him, without a word, and she tried to remind herself that as she saw him post a video to his story from another profile. The two of them laughing, clearly more then friends, maybe? She ventured onto the girls profile, and went on a spiralling deep dive, when a squeal from nearby made her jump, her finger slipping and pressing like on a photo of the girl from years back. 

Oh fuck. 

She quickly pressed unlike and tried blocking her as quick as possible, hoping that nothing happened and that the girl didn’t have her notifications on. “Well, I need to go die.” again, she muttered to no one in particular, slamming her phone on the bar and indicating for the bartenders attention. “Or get completely hammered and find someone to take home. Okay, we have a plan.” she realised however, oblivious to the fact she was talking out loud. 

camille clarke; under the sea dance

Alright, so maybe this is on him. It’s an easy conversation to turn the tables on, very simple to flip the script. As she rapid-fires her line of questions, grinning the whole time, he can’t help himself. He’s starting to smile too. Fighting it, really fighting it, but she’s got him to crack. He lets out a little huff, trying to play it as a scoff, because how ridiculous are you, stranger, asking me questions like this, when all I am is a simple man in a little cabin on a quiet lakeshore. But this is beginning to get very funny to him. If she is being serious, he’s about to look like the biggest asshole. “ Because I’m retired. ” The deadpan remark is the perfect one in his head, delivered with just the right amount of downplayed snark. The life that she’s talking about, it was once his, blood and adrenaline and fighting and fear, but for the last two years, it’s what he’s been trying to grow beyond. Something about this town, though. It makes things hard.

He lets her continue on, pointing a finger at him, and he still can’t tell if she’s being serious. This feels very played-up, almost exaggerated, cartoonish in a way. The smile is there in earnest, but it’s much softer, downplayed, controlled. “ Been here for two years, if you really must know. ” The ire is waning in his voice too, an odd mix of amused and confused. It’s been a while since Alexis was even looked at as more than just a man. Being accused of being a creature of any kind was a certain kind of ironic he actually could kind of appreciate. “ Re-built the cabin from the ground-up. ” It was almost the entire first year of him being in Holloway, where a lot of the people first started seeing him around town in earnest, where all the little stories and whispers came from. Big man, thick plaid overshirts, heavy lumber, arms full of tools. Very mysterious, very storybook. “ You can trust me on that, or you can not. As you said, ma’am - free country. ” He’s very non-committal about this whole thing, but it’s been something like fun, this back-and-forth.

When the stern facade melted away to z smile she couldn’t help but chuckle a little, realising perhaps her questions were dumb, even though to her they hadn’t been. A few months ago, she had been completely oblivious to the world of the supernatural, and hadn’t realised until she herself had been exposed to it in the most brutal way possible. She laughed though, darker thoughts fading away as she thought about what retired could be for her. “Oh, so you retired to a little cabin at the lake? That’s not serial killery at all, no.” she teased lightly, though she hated to say that the idea sounded kind of nice. Not the top of her list of places to seek isolation, but it sounded nice. Peaceful. 

“What, so being here for two years makes you more trustworthy?” she asked with a smirk,  “That just plays into the false security bid you could have going on.” she wasn’t serious, her tone was light and playful as she folded her arm across her chest, hugging her sketchbook to her chest as she twirled her pencil between the fingers of her other hand. “Though, you do give off a very... Paul Bunyan aesthetic.” she gestured to him with her hand idly. 

“Oh I don’t have to worry about you, I can handle myself.” she replied with a shrug, though that would be giving herself away, and well, she didn’t have that kind of self control just yet. “So, I could trust you. If I knew your name.”

“But that is the charm of the place. That does draw people here. It’s peaceful. It has its own vibe,” Lip replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “There’s plenty of places in town if you want wifi. I like that this is… old school. If you want to call it that.” He smiled. “Maybe this is the spot of artists who don’t need the internet. I don’t know, I just think it’s cool.”

“But are you really off your technology here? it’s not like there’s no signal, so why bother hindering it?” She asked with a raised eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. ‘Old school is exactly that, old. Outdated. Things that stay old school inevitably get left behind, then you won’t have that charming place.”