h a l f l i n g

According to all lore, the miracle should never have been born. The product of a faery and a werewolf, the miracle has magic running through their veins. Because of this, the miracle turned at an exceptional young age and is immune to all kind of magic: Dark and light. They hide this from the other werewolves… but there are plenty of whispers and rumours about the miracle.

i’m back with a new character! info and wanted connections under the cut

Not many people knew, that Felix was in fact a book person. Though he did have an English degree and taught it for a living. He usually bought stuff online but being back in his hometown had brought back some nostalgia and he’d decided to browse the local store as he was passing. 

His thoughts were on the book in his hand when he heard the noise, turning towards the woman and his eyes glancing over her mess. “You okay there?” he asked with a light laugh, moving to help her. “Here,” he said, bending to grab a few for her.

Damn it. So much for subtlety. Embarrassed and annoyed with herself and definitely still smarting from the hardcover book, she nods wordlessly at first. She knows this guy … how does she know this guy? The recognition hits her suddenly as he helps her with the rest of the fallen books: Felix something or other. He’s another wolf and another person who almost got out of Summerset, it seems. “Oh. Thanks.” She starts to pile the books up again. “So how long have you been back, o prodigal son?”

Emel had a lot of time on her hands, like a lot, so one of her goals with her new vampirism was reading more of the classics.  Her parents used to look down upon her for not being very well read, so she wanted to show everyone - including herself - that she could.  The only problem was that she had absolutely no idea where to start on her journey.  So Emel found herself at The Book Bank browsing the shelves.

She was looking at a copy of Anna Karenina with a pretty cover, when she heard the commotion just next to her.  Emel immediately put the book back and rushed over to help.  “Are you okay?”  She asked spotting the other in case more of her books started to fall.  “That’s quite a haul you have going on there.  I can take some if you need any help!”

As if she wasn’t embarrassed enough already, Jude now had to face the person she’d just been … well, spying on. Great. 

“I’m fine, really.” Jude mutters, annoyed at herself for causing a scene. “Don’t mind me and my book and my book and my book and my book … it’s my own hubris, really, but it’s fine now. You should really get back to Tolstoy -- “ 

-

“Oh yeah, very discreet.” Andrew adds on sarcastically. “I’ll at least give you the polite part.” He teasingly adds igonoring her protests to help out .  Picking up a couple books, he holds them out in offering. The top of the pile was an exta book, the very same book he had been looking at that caused this whole thing. Who knew books could cause so muchtrouble? 

“The books not really my thing, so maybe it’ll be more of an interest to you.” He explains and once everything was cleaned up fromt he floor stood back. “You seem to have quite the reading list going there.”

-

“You know, that’s not a very encouraging tone to take, o fearless leader.” She jokes. “My confidence is shaken to its core. I’ll never be stealthy again. Woe is me — etcetera etcetera.”

Of course he helps her pick up the rest of the books, which suddenly seems like far too many even for Jude. And then he adds one more to the pile.

“Oh. Thank you.” She furrows her brows in a somewhat pained expression, still embarrassed to have disturbed Andrew. “I just thought it the cover looked interesting. I wasn’t trying to spy on you or annoy you or anything like that. You should finish looking at it if you want. Clearly I have enough reading material as it is.”

Jude tilts her head to gesture at the offending cluster of books, safely tucked in her arms again and offers an explanation with a shrug - a dangerous move for someone once again balancing several volumes. “I have a lot of free time at work.”

The former leader of the summerset werewolf pack, Andrew’s father, had been a good leader, a tradionalist though whose old way of thinking believed that the the “halfbreed” wolves weren’t real wolves and considered them others. They had been outcasts of the town, not welcomed into the pack. Five years ago, Andrew had taken his leadership role as the next leader and definitely did not follow the same way of thinking; but it was a fine line as there were elders that remember as far back as his great grandfather and the way things have always been done.

At the bookstore, he was browsing, more of a classic fan then modern day reading of sparkling vampires. But a book caught his eye and he had picked it up to read the back cover. He had sensed her hovering in the background, but it wasn’t the human that was irritated by it, the wolf that lingered there under its human form, actually rolled its eyes. The exclamation followed by the hiss of pain caught his attention, turning his herad to see the culprit lying there on the floor; a fairly goodsized paperback. He couldn’t help it, but yes, he chuckled at her expense cause watched as the rest of the book fell out of her hand tothe floor was just cause and effect.

“You know you could have just said you wanted the book in my hand, it would have been easier.” He teasingly chided walking over and kneeling down to help pick up her fallen books. “I could feel your eyes burning holes in my back.” 

-

“I was waiting my turn. Very politely, might I add. Discreet too.” Jude quips, privately embarrassed to have been caught lurking and coveting the title by the pack’s leader of all people. It’s partially true: she hadn’t outright asked for the book due to some unspoken form of bookshop etiquette — but it’s not the only reason she didn’t say anything.

Jude knows precisely how some of the other wolves (Andrews father’s included) feel about the half-breeds like her. And while Andrew himself has never given any indication that he disapproves of those like Jude, she still prefers to keep him at an arm’s length and in the dark about her particular origins.

“You know, you’d think they’d offer baskets at the door to avoid this exact — oh no, don’t get down — I’ve got it, really.” Jude protests as he starts to help.

open to all // @theislestarters

Jude had a book in mind when she stepped into the shop, she really really did ... but as usual, she’d picked up more than a few additional titles on her way to the front counter and was still browsing the shelves when she saw someone pick up a book with a cover that caught her eye. Curious and hoping the other person would put the book back on the shelf for her to snatch up, she hovered nearby — trying not to alert them to her presence.

Which of course was when one of the books she was holding in her arms fell - hard - on her foot.

“Fuck.” She hissed in pain, grimacing as she bent down to pick up the volume — a balancing act that required not allowing the other books slip out of her grasp as well. “Typical...”

location╟ the alchemist’s shadow notes╟ open. @theislestarters​

      The fiver slipped into the till as quietly and smoothly as Atticus could muster, careful to not let the machine create more noise than necessary or set any loud dings that would rattle in their ears until the sharp tone spiked against the drums. And with easy and languid steps, a long look over and debate of which to use, they removed a brown bottle and broke it open.

      It felt like a hangover, head clouded with a diluted attention as if they were viewing the world through a veil welts under the witch’s eyes and a light glisten to their skin to further the lie they imbibed too much for their tolerance. ‘If only it were that simple’, was the lingering thought as they popped two white capsules into their mouth and chewed– a bitter taste that made them wince that would hopefully bring sweet relief for the oncoming headache. A hard swallow and a moment of mindful grounding, the brunet came to clearer senses and felt the other’s presence behind them.

     “I highly recommend them if you’re in need of quick pain relief,” they spoke, rattling the bottle between two fingers before pocketing it. Or at least the medicine might help over time, truth yet to be seen. “Though preferably with water. They’re not meant to be chewed, and I’m remembering why.”

“Actually, I’m just looking for some rubbing alcohol, maybe some gauze.” Jude glances around. “You carry that kind of stuff too, right?”

It’s not for her, certainly not so close to the full moon when she heals faster than usual — but the first aid kit at the Cottage by the Sea Inn has been running a little low on supplies and she’d figured she should restock it before one of the inn’s less durable human guests might need it. If there was one thing you could count on in Summerset, it was eventual catastrophe.