BURNING BRIGHTER

(luke macfarlane, cis man, beaumont coven supreme) VIGILANTE has their eye on OLIVER BEAUMONT. HE is a 35 YEAR-OLD WITCH who lives in OLD TOWN PLAZA. according to VIGILANTE’s intel, they work as the OWNER OF EXPRESS-O CAFE and are known for being INNOVATIVE and HEADSTRONG. hopefully they don’t give VIGILANTE a reason to strike. (rose, 26, she/her, est, n/a)

Hey everyone! I’m Rose, and this is my first role, Oliver Beaumont. I couldn’t be more excited to start plotting and writing with everyone. If you have any plot ideas, feel free to reach out here or on discord!

Astrid didn’t mean to say anything more about the singer and his fanboy moment, but Ollie always had the effect of getting her to say more than she meant to. “Only the ones who take selfies with the singer… or was that her idea? I wouldn’t be surprised, she totally wanted to fuck you, you could see it in her eyes.” She scoffed, and immediately regretted it, taking a long drink of her beer. Dammit, this was going to be a long night.

“You know I’m no good at telling stories,” she rolled her eyes, what was she going to tell him about? The time she was contracted to make it look like a guy died in his sleep, but before she could, he had an allergic reaction to shellfish and died all on his own? That was real fun to explain to the client, especially when she pointed out that deposits are nonrefundable for a reason. “Fine, you go first then. Maybe I’ll fall asleep and then I won’t have to tell one.”

“What, so you’re just a fanboy?” Astrid quirked a brow at him. A part of her was genuinely relieved that he hadn’t taken a date to the club in her place, but she was determined not to let that show. But she was still sure that if he had wanted to find a date, he could have. He was attractive and charming, even if she wouldn’t admit it. 

She didn’t doubt his words, though. It wasn’t hard to believe that she was foremost in his mind, although it still made her wonder why he’d wanted to break up in the first place. Oh, right, he hadn’t wanted to break up, he just didn’t want to marry her. As if there was a difference. “I don’t want to fight tonight, okay? So just drink this and shut up.” She reached into the cooler by her chair and pulled out a beer, handing it over unceremoniously.

With a snort, Oliver said, “Fanboy? Is that what everyone who says hello to the band after a show is?” It would be easy to explain the whole situation - the wrong number text the singer had sent, that he’d agreed to go to the show to support the local musicians - but he’d planned to tell Astrid all of that at Delirium. Now, he wasn’t sure he wanted to give her the whole truth so easily. He took the beer, offering her a smile in return, even though he was desperate to know whether she believed him. 

Astrid just gave him a withering look when he played innocent, well aware that he knew exactly who she meant. He posted that picture knowing she’d see it, she was sure of that. “You didn’t seem to have much trouble finding someone else to take… I guess it’s a good thing I’m so easily replaced.” She scoffed, looking back up at the sky. “You know I don’t play third-wheel very well.”

“That was the lead singer of the band.” Oliver let Astrid talk, not bothering to ignore the satisfaction he felt that she’d spent any time at all thinking about who he’d been with at Delirium. Maybe it was stupid and childish, but it made him feel like some part of her still cared. Relaxing into the lawn chair, Olive crossed one leg over the other. “I didn’t take anyone else. Nice to know you think I can land a date on short notice.” 

Astrid didn’t answer him right away, looking up at the darkening sky instead. A part of her wanted to send him on his way, again, to rebuff him yet again, but if she did, she’d be alone. It didn’t usually bother her, she was a loner by nature, but did she really want to sit here alone tonight? It would be the first time she watched the fireworks without her mom… and it seemed like Ollie knew that. A wry smile cracked her face when he told her they could judge the fireworks together; he did know her too well. 

“I guess you can stay… I might need someone to guard my spot if I need to use the restroom, after all.” She shrugged, pointing to the bag that she’d brought with the extra lawn chair. It wasn’t like she anticipated company, they just came two-for-one like that. “As long as your little friend from the other night isn’t coming. I didn’t bring any wine coolers so she probably wouldn’t be interested.”

“I’m sure you like to believe that,” Astrid rolled her eyes at him, taking a sip of her drink. She had seen the picture Ollie had posted with that little blonde thing at Delirium, and in truth, it had made her angry. But she was trying not to let it show. What did she care if he wanted to bang some wispy little faerie or whatever? Except she did care. “Yes, that was more than enough clubbing to last me a lifetime. But…” she glanced towards the sky. Her mother had always loved the summer festival, and used to drag her out to the beach to watch the fireworks. It wouldn’t feel right not to come out in her place, since she was in town. “I wanted to see the fireworks.”

Oliver rolled his eyes right back, more out of habit (even after ten years) than anything. Whatever smart retort he had on his lips died when he saw the way she quickly looked at the sky. He wanted to be angry with her, to walk away and leave her to her own devices after she blew him off. But...but he couldn’t just walk away from her. Not again. Not when he knew everything Astrid had lost. “We can watch them together,” he offered, voice softer than before. He was trying hard not to look too sympathetic, figuring she wouldn’t want his pity, not that he was pitying her at all. “Well, we can judge them together. Last year’s show sucked. We can rate this one.” He didn’t sit down, waiting for her to tell him to go away. And if she did...he might just go for good this time. 

Looking at Oliver, Dorian was intrigued. He looked like he could be somebody’s father. It wasn’t often that Dorian interacted with men who looked like they could be baseball coaches. That just wasn’t the musician’s natural circle of friends. “Oh yeah, this whole carnival thing is cool and all. Especially the food. But I dunno, I guess I’m just more amped for fall than summer. Autumn is more my speed. I mean, don’t I look like I’d enjoy fall more?” He replied, gesturing towards his outfit, leather and chains adorned over his body along with his tattoos. Dorian had a very punk aesthetic and he was proud of it.

“Fair enough,” Ezra nodded, he understood that, before last year he hadn’t gone farther than a few hours drive from his home either, “Is it gonna snow here?” He asked, falling into step with Ollie as they made their way through the crowd, “ I mean not now but like, y’know, at some point?“

“Hey, no, don’t worry about it, you’ve got your whole coven to run,” He said, waving a hand. Never having been a part of a coven structure, he didn’t really understand all that went into being a Supreme, but it had to be complicated, “Things are fine, nothing too exciting. How are you? With everything going on?” Ezra had kept a pretty low profile, so he wasn’t too worried about himself with the VIGILANTE group, but others had a lot more to be concerned about. 

With a raised eyebrow, Ollie nodded. “Yeah, it snows quite a bit. The wind off the lake is awful if you live close enough.” Unfortunately, Ollie did live close enough to the man-made lake for the colder months to be made worse by it. Hands in his pockets as they meandered down the walkway, he shrugged. “Being busy doesn’t excuse not checking in. You’re new around here, the least I can do is make sure you’re settling in.” Ollie hadn’t forgotten what else they’d talked about that first meeting, but he wasn’t going to bring it up right away. “Everything is fine. Not great, but fine. The coven is doing well, and that’s what I really care about. I’m trying to reach out to the other covens and make sure they’re all doing okay, but...it’s an uphill battle. Getting everyone to trust each other seems impossible sometimes.”

The expression given to the gloves brought a mirthful hum out of Stag as he watched the man put them on. In all his time surrounded by art snobs and financial elites, the return to casual society would often cause gentle reminders that he’s just slightly out of place. If he were being honest, he quite liked the feeling. “The funnel cake might help your broken heart a little bit better but maybe a drink or two in your system might make the gaming more fun. Who knows? Being thrown off balance might actually help you win a few,” he replied with a chuckle. The offer to buy him a drink felt like he was paying the kindness forward and Stag wasn’t one to complain about generosity coming his way. “I wouldn’t really be me if I refused to let a pretty man buy me a drink. I’ll even let you pick for the sake of adventure.”

“You should probably check your weather app more often there, handsome,” he suggested, head tilted slightly and mouth forming the subtlest of smiles. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a pair of dark gloves, holding them out in the space between them. Givenchy. They matched his Burberry hooded cape, but he was willing to part with the gloves as a generous act of the day. Festivals called for some level of benevolence, he supposed. “I don’t think I saw any carts specifically for coffee around but we might be able to get you an Irish coffee from one of the bars.” Where there was an abundance of people, there was bound to be alcohol.

“You get cold too easily,” Astrid knew she should resist the urge to say something, but when it came to Ollie, she found it difficult to resist. “I’m surprised you didn’t show up in a snuggie.” She also knew that when she heard his voice, she should’ve just walked away from where she’d set up her lawn chair to watch the fireworks, but a stubborn part of her didn’t want to move. Why should she? She was here first.

“Gotta say I agree. But isn’t it always like this in New England?” This was Ezra’s first year on the east coast, but from what he understood the weather fluctuations around here were far greater than those in San Diego, “I think there was one a few blocks-er-aisles? Rows?” He faltered briefly over the terms, but tried to right himself after a moment and pointed, “That way.” 

“I suppose. I’ve never lived anywhere else, so I can’t really compare it.” Ollie never felt a desire to leave his home city or his coven - even when the weather got on his nerves. Smiling, he nodded his head in the direction Ezra pointed and started walking. “How have you been doing? I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to catch up with you since you first got to town.”

When: Evening!

“With love advice, I am the oracle. I’ve made enough dating mistakes to know that you’re making one.” She smiled gently, confident in her convictions as usual. “That’s a lie. You are lying to me. Because if you had you wouldn’t be bothered she’s here.” 

She snorted at his words, holding her stomach as she laughed. “Now i’m tempted to do it just to see them have kittens. But no. I can’t see myself ever getting married. I have my friends for fun. But i am not interested in settling down for any man.” 

“Why is everyone so obsessed with marriage?” Ollie asked, fully understanding his sister’s feelings on the subject, and mostly agreeing. Now...now he might be willing to at least try, but the fear was still there, a little nagging part of him that didn’t think marriage was the right step for him, maybe for anyone. “Can’t adults just have relationships without a little piece of paper saying they’re forever bound by the government? I don’t know. It’s so formal and impersonal for something that is so...well, personal.” 

Bothered. He was absolutely bothered by Astrid being back. Not in a bad way. He liked that she was there, and that was the problem. “Maybe we both need to swear off love all together. You’ve made dating mistakes, I’ve made dating disasters. Maybe the Beaumont's just aren’t meant for commitment.”