Hasan Jackson

Would he be missed?

Perhaps, a pack would be left without a leader, and a warmed up seat at the highest floor of their little castle would be vacant — waiting for someone else to take their spot.

"Of course you don't. " she muttered. "Men like you only know to complain."

He could probably sense the hostility beyond her voice — the small sparks of magic aiming at a potential new victim.

So to be met with hostility barely fazed him. That and he was a doctor. Even if there were posters around the hospital asking people to please respect health care workers, there were still those patients who didn't care.

"Not why I'm complaining," he stated. "I'm worried about potential injuries, grass or sand would be much better."

His gaze fixed on the Mini Duck Fair, and he nodded in agreement to Hasan’s suggestion. “A challenge sounds good,” he said, contemplating for a moment. “What do you say we make it interesting?” A playful smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “Loser buys the next round of coffee at Moonshine.”

Idris knew fully well he could get anything he wanted there for free as he was in fact the owner of Moonshine, but a friendly wager as a fun little twist in their day never hurt, right?

Hasan laughed. "Says the owner of Moonshine," he commented, a playful smirk on his own face now. "But alright, I will accept the challenge. We're doing the most difficult game on the premise first: the one where you have to fish the ducks out of the pond, the one with the most points wins," he decided. Very few people got this side of him, with most he was still trying to keep up this very grand appearance: head surgeon, pack leader, professor. With Idris, not so much, mostly because the other too had his success carved out for him: owner of an establishment that was praised for being inclusive, pack leader himself.

And the thing Hasan appreciated the most: they could banter and challenge each other without it having to be about respect and standing. It was all in good fun.

 “Ah, so Edinburgh got all the fun with the sedatives, huh? She laughed softly, finding the history he shared quite interesting. “The way they did surgeries without sedatives is honestly horrendous. And yeah, societal norms can be pretty weird about pain. But isn’t it a fact that women experience pain differently than men? And tolerate it better? Or are those numbers made up, doctor?” She raised an eyebrow at him playfully.

He smiled, when Roxanne called him doctor, he couldn't help but blush, luckily, none of that was visible on his face for the other, he just found his ears and neck heating up. He chuckled. "Alright, alright. Let me say it in the most professional way I can say it without losing my integrity. Some women have a higher pain tolerance due to having been exposed to pain for a longer amount of time. While men tend to have pain that's situational or related to a certain event. Women are also expected to take care of the household, the kids, etc. Meaning that they tend to bite through the pain for much longer than men do. Resulting in a skewed belief that women deal with pain better."

He licked his lip, the smile still there, but more youthful, more genuine, as if that was even possible after how comfortable he already felt in Roxy's company. "The museum mostly, I went there once as a kid, and I loved it so much. I wanted to become a surgeon, and it just made sense that I'd have to get that degree in Edinburgh, it was as if it was all calling to me."

He paused. "Why did you become a tattoo artist?"

Being a friendly extrovert with a wonderful sense of humor meant that Amir would constantly collect friends and colleagues. His innate warmth and engaging personality acted as a magnet, drawing people towards him. He was deeply invested in community growth and relished gaining diverse perspectives to better help his students. Seeing individuals who looked like him in professional settings was particularly important to him. He believes this philosophy, along with the diversity that Fenrir championed, made the place feel uniquely safe and special. It stirred a bittersweet pang in his heart to know that somewhere out there, a little boy who looked like him could envision his future through the lens of grown-ups like Hasan, or even himself.

Amir's curiosity and commitment to mentorship led him to meet Hasan casually, initially interviewing him for a possible mentorship with low-risk students. Then came the bite that changed everything. His transition into lycanthropy was arduous at first, a tumultuous journey marked by pain and confusion. However, he believes Hasan would agree that he has grown immensely since then.

"The full moons are still rough," he admits with a sad smile, his eyes reflecting the struggles of his transformation. "But the exercises you taught me are helpful." The support and guidance of a friend like Hasan were invaluable, providing a lifeline during his darkest moments. Amir felt fortunate to have someone he could confide in, seeking advice about all aspects of his life. "I'm just scared that I'll lose control... has—has something like that ever happened to you?"

He remembered his first few years, how hard it had been to get used to the new rhythm, but also how much the pack leader of Fenrir Pack had helped him. Now it was his job.

The Werewolf nodded. He wasn't the greatest at making new Werewolves feel more secure, he missed his former colleague and friend Sietse increasingly, but he still gave this his all. For the sake of the Werewolves who found their way to Fenrir's Wood, for the ones who had gotten bitten, and the ones who still struggled. "I have," he admitted. "Not often, and certainly not after my first few years, but it was always in the company of older Werewolves and they made me feel less terrible about it all," he admitted. "That's why it's important to stay within the woods during the full moon."

Six months. It'd been six months since their transformations had started. Still, Annabelle found them no easier than the last. She had wanted to enjoy the Mini Duck fair. There were two weeks of checks in their bank account just to ensure they would have enough for burgers and wings and games. The enjoyment of the fair, however, felt forced more than anything. She wore a smile, yes, and still danced and drank. Each action held underlying anxieties for the full moon. The transformation, the aftermath, all the confusion that came with it. Across from Annabelle was Hasan. Together at the CoffeeKanteen, she nursed a steaming mug. The warmth was supposed to make her bones feel better, right? So why did they still feel so miserable? Annabelle looks up to him from her coffee. "Can you at least tell me that this all...gets better? It won't be like this forever...right?"

His bed-side manners as a surgeon had been sub-par.

Still, with the spot for second pack leader at Fenrir Pack still open, Hasan was on his own.

"It will get better," he assured her. "It will feel easier, once your body and your mind are used to it, and once you've had a few more changes within the protection of the pack and the covens."

He had a cup of tea in front of him, but he hadn't touched it yet. He did feel the worry now, the one Sietse had always described but he had never felt: the fear that he wasn't enough to help them.

"If you want I can find a few Werewolves like you, who have recently changed, we can start a little talk group, you can all share your experiences and how you're dealing with the changes," he suggested. He was starting to sound like Helia.

before logan became a werewolf, she never would have given ideas like this the time of day. to tell her that she'd transform into a wolf on a full moon? you might as well have told her the earth was flat. it makes no sense to her, but it's a reality that she's had to come to terms with.

"why is it that the witches can work with spirits but we can't? is it something about the connection they have? and why can't spells be learned by people who aren't witches?" she's grateful to have hasan as a mentor, someone who can answer these questions for her. it helps her to get a firmer grasp on the things she doesn't understand and hasn't been aware of until recently. she understands why he's a pack leader, he's good at providing a sort of guidance. it makes her feel like she isn't alone in this transition, knowing that someone else knows exactly what she's going through. the world feels a little less big with the community of a pack, people who she knows she can trust and rely on. "you never told me, why did you bring me here? to show me how things work?"

"Because we're cursed," Hasan said. "That's how the Witches put it, being a Werewolf is some kind of punishment, and thus we're no longer allowed to connect with that world. At least, the people who were witches before. Humans can sense spirits, but they cannot interact with them, because... it's like not having the sense needed to hold a conversation with them."

“That’s got to be the doctor in you talking. You know you’re allowed to take a day off, right?” Idris teased, smirking as he turned to look at Hasan.

“I don’t know. It’s okay. It’s… yeah, okay,” he shrugged, his tone nonchalant. Idris didn’t have any strong feelings about the renovations. He took another sip of his drink, stepping aside as a group of children ran past them towards the ice cream cart.

“Have you tried your luck at any of the games?” He asked, shifting the conversation and raising an eyebrow in curiosity.   

A group of kids appeared, seemingly not noticing either of them as they rushed past to get ice cream. It technically wasn’t even that warm, he wouldn’t so quickly go for ice in this weather, but the kids didn’t care. “Maybe I’m getting old,” he decided. “And starting to dislike change.” It was a joke, but brought in true Hasan-fashion: stoically. 

The games, Hasan’s attention shifted again, from the kids eager to get some sugar, to the Mini Duck Fair. He went to the Duck Fair every year, and found it funny that there was a mini version. “I have not, do we do a challenge?” he asked.

“Do you visit them sometimes, or do they come visit you?” She asked curiously when he mentioned his family in America. “You’re right, though; it’s difficult to keep a connection when we’re so far apart.” She smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

“Can you imagine if you still operated without sedatives? Doing open-heart surgery must be hell,” she said, frowning slightly at the thought. The idea of undergoing such an operation while awake and aware of the surroundings – not just the pain, but also the sounds and smells – made her shudder. “I’d like to thank the people who invented sedatives,” she added after a moment. “I’ve had a few customers who needed something to ease the pain when getting tattoos. Interestingly, it’s usually men who can’t handle the pain. I’ve only ever had men need pain relief.”

“It’s even worse with the timezones, a lot of chances to miss each other. My mom says it used to be easier to keep in contact, because they’d have a fixed moment when they’d call via landline,” he said. “Now you can call at any time and it’s a lot harder to arrange something.” 

He chuckled. “I know a lot about sedatives, it was actually invented in Edinburgh, at the university I went to. They have a lot of documentation about how surgeries were done before sedatives, and I’d rather not imagine,” he said with a painful face. “It’s the difference in pain receptors, and society. Societal norms expect women to deal with pain easier,” he said. And there were more negative stereotypes surrounding pain, but he’d rather deal with the man to woman / woman to man societal difference than some of the crazy things the world of science had come up with, and some of those that were still believed despite enough research saying otherwise. 

“I personally think we should all ask for pain relief, it doesn’t help to act cool and pretend we’re not hurting, right?”

“Nice to meet you too, Chae, formally.” He offered a smile. “She’s incredibly determined, and no, she doesn’t give me much trouble, there are plenty of times where the subjects she brings to me are very interesting. I think she really likes doing research, and so do I.” He made a face then, studying Chae for a moment. “Is this something you’re still looking for as well? A cure?” Because Hasan wasn’t new to people deciding there was no help for them. As the head surgeon, he had many such conversations with patients. And he knew Helia.

jasper’s spine straightened as though a rod had been shot through it. he lived his life as though on tiptoes, carefully navigating showing his true self, keeping tight-lipped and cautious. hazel eyes darted between hasan and shriya until he was sure neither of them were a threat. with both hands he took hold of the cup and steadily sipped, the water shuddering as their hands trembled around it. following a change or approaching it, jasper’s senses were set alight—it meant that his anxiety, too, was heightened, and loomed over him like a dark black stain. “i promise you can trust me,” shriya offered, leaning forward just enough to close the space, but allowing jasper enough room to retreat if he needed it. she held her coffee tight, firm, careful not to misstep. “you're safe here. whether it's a supernatural problem or a human problem.” she offered a sweet smile, and jasper's gaze lowered to focus on the toes of his boots. “i—um—well—it's just . . . ” suddenly he felt ridiculous for even turning up, despite his physical reactions to the fear, “i'm just really anxious.”