- ̗̀ A COSMIC UNRAVELING.

Elation was heavenly when it served as a response to Clover’s attempts at flirtation. It was far better than outright rejection, and wasn’t nearly as anxiety-inducing as fervent reciprocation. He couldn’t keep up with people who were more versed in the act than himself. “You didn’t tell me it was hot. That changes everything,” he replied, wagging his finger a bit between them. The recovery process wouldn’t have taken that long, though. He supposed being a vampire had a few perks. “Instead, you could always invite me to join you for that second cup of coffee. It’s no hospital recovery love story, but it would probably be a less strange strange story than meeting a cute guy cowering behind a dumpster.” His eyebrows were raised, eyes hopeful. A small smile played on his face.

The voice that continued to contrast Clover’s own was so smooth, it melted over the vampire’s head and dripped down to his toes. Everything about this man exuded charm. No one would blame Clover from drinking it up, surely. “My knight in shining armor doesn’t even know the weight of what he’s just done for me. I’m swooning.” He accentuated his point by clutching at his shirt, bunching up the material that rests against his chest. “Well, that wouldn’t be too much of a shame, would it?” he asked, voice incredulous and soft. “It’s a pretty fitting story for the beginning of a romcom.”

In the darkness of the small passageway, and with the added obscurity provided by Clover’s forearms, the vampire’s savior had yet to be identified by visual assessment. Just before the crouched man could lift his head completely, a rattling sound echoed against sturdy walls and he ducked down immediately. A soft ‘eep’ escaped him out of instinct. It was most likely just a rat. “Very sour break up,” he said, telling only a half-truth as he ignored the litany of demeaning insults his brain threw at him. A proclivity for making poor choices in regards to objects of his affection would always be sorely reprimanded by his inner monologue. “He’s the, uh, can’t-take-a-hint type. This is the third time this week I’ve seen him stalking around my job. Anyway…” His voice trailed off there. Clover’s hands were lowered from his head slowly as he tilted his face upward. Blue eyes caught the yellow of a light sitting on a studio’s third floor windowsill and he hoisted himself up onto the dumpster and tried to calm his still shaking limbs by fiddling with them. “Thank you.” His head turned and he allowed himself to take in the other man’s face. Splendid. He’d just made a fool out of himself in front of someone whose jawline was sharper than the vampire’s IQ; and, he probably smelled like garbage, no less. Magnificent first impression.

Teddy liked Elliot. He didn’t know the Duval all that well but he was less uptight than some of his cousins tended to be and Teddy could appreciate that. He did appreciate that. it was why he was there in the first place, because he didn’t think the other would laugh in his face over it. “You can help me regain clearance to go back to the Frey.” The first step anyway, he wanted his stall back too but figured one big, probably impossible request at a time.

Displeased though she seemed with the turn of events, the offending witch folded her arms and scowled but relented, clearly not about to argue with a Duval with a vampire at his side. She retreated to her shop and glowered, leaving Josefine and the younger witch to themselves. “You know, it’s kind of nice having all of you here,” she said with a soft, rolling chuckle. “I’m Josefine–I met Remi a while back but the rest of you have seemed a little scarce.”

"Don’t let him see me…Don’t let him see me…” The words came out in constant repetition like a mantra, prayers to a once lost and forgotten god. Whatever god that would take pity on the poor creature huddled low with arms covering his head and elbows pressed against his raised knees. He knew he looked descant. His shoulder length hair curled like a nest around his head, his hands were shaking, and the breaths he released were erratic. What a fool he was for getting wrapped up in someone else’s mess. Never take your work home with you. He knew that. He wrote the manuscripts in stone himself, but he had a weakness for soft brown eyes. A weakness that threatened to disrupt the separation of his work and home life.

Footfall that didn’t quite sound the same as the figure he ducked away from was steadily approaching and he ventured a peek out from under his forearms. “Is he gone? Big guy…crew cut..brown peacoat. Is he…Is he gone?” he asked, voice dripping in desperation. A plea for solace.

If she was honest, it was still a struggle to take in what had happened to her. When the anonymous letter had stated what she had become, the young girl thought the sender must be a few fries short of a happy meal. She knew nothing of the supernatural world, not about it existing anyway. Yet after killing her father and the urges and feelings she’d experienced, it was enough to make her do a little research.

—after her first full moon since being bitten, she did a lot of research.

She wasn’t in the right headspace, her thoughts had derailed time and time again until all her mind seemed to do was throw out shots of confusion. There was no guidance from anyone–though she probably would’ve been too stubborn to accept it anyway. Frankie had struggled with any authoritative figure since she’d hit her teenage years. She’d come to the conclusion that no matter how fucked her head might get, at least nobody else got to witness it–hopefully anyway.

So her arrival in New York City wasn’t a smooth one. She’d taken on a few jobs, none lasting more than a week before she’d got fired for being too clumsy or pissing off the boss with her chatty ways and inability to find her internal filter when she really needed to. After a month, Frankie finally talked the ‘Anytime auto repair’ in the upper east side, into giving her a job as a trainee mechanic, proving to them she’d finished an apprenticeship back in her hometown.

Now though wasn’t about working–this was her free time. She was a curious one, never shying away from anyone or anywhere–which wasn’t exactly a good thing when she had a habit of attracting trouble like a magnet, but this was different right?…a new start, a new life. This particular day, Frankie had decided to visit the Met museum of art. It wasn’t that she showed a great interest in that kind of stuff, but it was something to do and it was cheap, which went well with her shortage of money.

After staring at a large painting which depicted some intricate pattern that spiralled into what looked like a thin funnel coming out of a tree, Frankie just raised a brow and spoke out loud what she was thinking to anyone nearby.

“I really have no idea what I’m looking at….but it must be good…because freakin’ hell…have you seen how much it’s worth?”

       She could only roll her eyes, as she so often did in company. Elliot had hardly lived a life free of privilege; they were similar in that way. Their wealth cushioned them and made their lives that much more bearable. “Don’t tell me you’d take the city over Rome, Elliot. That’s crazy, and I know it’s not true. Don’t try to lie. Please, get a grip,” she paused, clenching her teeth in the most unimpressed fashion imaginable. “I’d kill myself before I’d let one of them do it. What are a couple of cops going to do, keep us under surveillance? Even if we had our own personal CIA agents running around, pretty sure they’d cut their losses and sell us out.” What was one family compared to an entire city of endangered innocents?

“You get used to it.” No one did, Lucian was just convinced people learned how to ignore it. “Or accept it, I guess.” As a responsibility they all had to the city, apparently. But that was something he didn’t want to get into, was afraid he’d wind up yelling about it. That was something he couldn’t see himself doing, yelling at Elliot. Even at his most petulant, he didn’t think his brain could come up with the mental gymnastics to rationalize any kind of argument with his gentle natured cousin. Instead he focused on the tea kettle, filling it with water before setting it on the stove. Leaning against the counter, he wished he would have brought his cigarettes down with him, had half a mind to stash some in a cupboard. “You’re alright though?” It was an almost shy question, hesitant. Stupid, it was a stupid question that he found himself asking everyone lately. He let out a scoff at it, as if trying to dismiss his sincerity, put the mask back up. “Fine”, I’m guessing.”

“I’m allowed–” The witch cut Josefine short, once again insisting rudely she didn’t have a place in the Frey, which was supposed to be a place of safety and community for supernaturals excluding the more dangerous among them, here referring to her vampiric nature. Anger and hurt burned under her skin as she fought the urge to snap back and make the scene the witch so desperately deserved at this point, but she’d only be proving the offending woman right. “There’s no rules against my–” And again, the witch stopped her, practically bullying the vampire into taking a step back.

Despite having a long commute up and down town every day from her apartment in Hell’s Kitchen with her brother, Elizabeth loved her classes and she even loved her job at Dust, happily coming in a bit earlier some mornings to finish helping make all the baked goods ready to be sold that day. It was nice, having this bit of normalcy. Because even if it was mundane, it still gave her something to do, something to focus on that wasn’t a looming threat or worry for her family. It made her feel just like everyone else.

Fresh from the oven, Elizabeth moved to set out a fresh batch of cookies and brownie bites into the bakery’s display case out front, the smell of coffee and pastries strong in the air and she smiled as someone walked in, “Oh, sorry! Hi, just give me a second.” she assured, making sure everything was safely put away and set before moving back to her spot behind the counter, that easy smile still on her face all the while. “What can I get you? Anything catching your eye yet?”

“The idea that this country is the greatest in the world is outdated and ignorant,” she argued, picking up her cup of coffee. “Things were the best out are hardly anything to be proud of. “Largest external debt, highest government budget deficit, and nuclear power producer? Congrats America, you’re doing a bang up job.”

“Yeah, a totally random fact that has stuck with me for far longer than some of the algebra I learned back in high school. I think it is a side effect of working in a museum with thousands of tourists visiting daily and overhearing many random facts about the city,” he mused. “It is cramped,” Levi agreed. “New York has a lot more to offer than a statue but it is shocking how many people come all this way and spend most of their time in busy tourist traps that leave you angry and with a lot less money that you had at the start of the day.”

“Only if you have a very fertile imagination, and maybe some coke” He replied, realizing how serious he sounded with his joke. Considering his past though it wasn’t much of a surprise though. “ Is she? Let me know how thing’s change?” He asked, genuinely concerned for the well being of the other witches in the city he spent time with. “ I’m with you on that. I don’t know how, but I’d do a lot to try to stop or help stop all of this”

“That’s a sad truth. “ Rayn replied knowing that there was nothing else she could say to add to that comment. The world was a complicated place and there was always bad in it whether you took out one bad group of people. “I hope they will be. This has been going on for a while, so I don’t know how much longer this can sustain, but I hope they get caught soon. Do you believe they will? “