Melinda Halliwell || 26 || Whitelighter/Witch || Resistance - bio
Oaklee Gerard-Mikaelson || 24 || Witch || Wyatt’s Army - bio
Ruslan Jamakovich || 33 || Werewolf || Resistance - bio


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Melinda Halliwell || 26 || Whitelighter/Witch || Resistance - bio
Oaklee Gerard-Mikaelson || 24 || Witch || Wyatt’s Army - bio
Ruslan Jamakovich || 33 || Werewolf || Resistance - bio

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"I've never had a bigger headache in my life than I do right now," Abigail muses, digits rubbing at her temples before they move to brush dark curls from her features. "How long are we thinking this is gonna take before we can go back to our time? Can we even go back to our time now?"
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"Seriously, don't move, I'll get you some water," Ruslan insists. "Don't think you need anymore vodka for the night. Yes, I know, we're all overwhelmed but you've very clearly had enough."
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"Okay so you'll have to go to your doctor to get these removed in about a week or two," Melinda explains softly, wrapping the stitched up area in gauze. "You'll keep this wrap on for the first 24 to 48 hours and then you can remove but make sure to keep the stitched area dry at all times even when you shower otherwise you risk infection, okay?" She nods her head as the other thanks her, digits moving to clean up the area around her before rising to her feet, first aid kit bag in hand and turning only to bump into another the second she did, "I am so sorry," she gushes quickly. "I didn't see you there. Are you okay? Did you need some help?"

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Open Starter - @hellsmouthstarters
"Are we allowed to make ourselves known to our families in this time," Oaklee questioned curiously, not bothering to glance up from the phone in her hands. "Do I need to change my last name or are we just saying fuck it and letting whatever happens happen?"
and so this is how it went. life became unrecognizable ---- irreconcilable. one second there was , and the next there wasn't. a cavernous tomb where a sister ---- in this case meaning inverse , or mirror ; could've been or never was ---- should've been. things had never been so quiet. a few days ago , he was screaming down the house for some goddamned peace and quiet and now .... now the only thing louder than the silence was those machines mom was hooked up to. breathing machines and eegs and ct scans and feeding tubes ---- like a fucking cyborg. it was all for show. the longer she was hooked up , the less likely she was to wake .... but dr grayson gilbert knew that. stayed out late like he was going to single-handedly find the cure to death or some shit. zombie wife and dead daughter and he was still the eternal fucking optimist. jeremy just wished he'd pull the plug already. mom didn't want- wouldn't have wanted .... but every time he brought it up , grayson just gave him this strained ' it should've been you ' smile , and really , who was he to argue with that ?? just his son. just an uncomfortable conversation about whether the knives needed to be locked up. just a ' if only he was more like ... ' not his daughter. not his wife. not someone he particularly wanted around. and so he nicked elena's diary for company and ran out of the house where the funeral feasts and condolences never ended. ran until he reached her grave. lit up. took a xanax. thought about the guy on the football team he'd given a blowjob to ( dead as his sister ). thought about taking more. started reading instead. " fuck off. " he wasn't in the mood for commiseration.
She wasn't really sure why she was in the cemetery but at least it was quiet, somewhat peaceful, the definition of a perfect place to think. 2009- a year before she's even born which meant both of her biological parents were still alive and happy and she was unable to do anything to shift the timeline, to warn them of what was to come in their futures or even risk taking the chance to just see them again. The voice catches her off guard, a brow rising as she's pulled from her thoughts and she glances over, arms crossing over her chest almost immediately. "It's public property," Oaklee retorts sharply. "Should really take your attitude out on whoever pissed in your coffee this morning not some random passerby's."
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"-stay still." chris couldn't heal anyone. it was a whitelighter ability he had never been able to even activate, let alone master. wyatt had been healing people before he could form a sentence, and melinda knew both cpr and first aid like the back of her hand. chris was the one who lagged behind them both. he always figured he'd activate the power someday if he truly needed it. but that day had passed long by now to no avail. so, while not even half as gracefully as his sister, chris wrapped the wound. "it needs to be tight." chris reminded them. though snug was the proper word google had said, he had memorized everything he could on the subject. "wiggle your fingers." he admonished. "if they're numb or you don't feel circulation i'll re-wrap it." a nightmare they both surely wanted to avoid, but chris knew that there was more time lost haste then caution.
It hadn't been until she was well into her nursing residency that her whitelighter healing abilities had activated, not that she really needed it having been trained in the art of first aid and cpr by 18, but every now and then she cheated a little bit and used it, rarely ever on humans unless absolutely necessary, of course. She'd stayed back a bit watching her brother trying to help the other with a hint of a smile on her lips. She didn't want to impose, to get in his way, or even make him feel like he wasn't doing a decent job because he actually was for someone untrained. "Everything okay over here," Melinda questioned softly. "Anything I can do to help?"
Melinda Grace Halliwell and her abilities
And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming Or the moment of truth in your lies When everything feels like the movies Yeah, you bleed just to know, you're alive And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am

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