Lunar Starters

Genevieve had hardly been paying the heat much mind, spending the morning the way she normally did- stress baking up a storm in time for the Pride festivities. But she had just put a tray of soufflés in the oven when the lights went out, and the visceral gasp that had been evoked from her lips had been palpable. "No," She huffed, taking a step back from her oven that thankfully had only turned off and hadn't short-circuited. Removing her apron, the baker stepped into the back room to check to make sure her wireless hair straightener in her bag was still fully charged, which thankfully it was. She wasn't about to summon the rain if she couldn't fix her hair afterward. Walking over to the umbrella stand at the front of the shop, she plucked out her pink umbrella and unfolded her matching pink wheelchair. She unfurled her wings and began to wheel her way outside, making it a few feet out into the heat before her eyes began to glow and rain clouds formed overhead. The rain instantly cooled down the few blocks around her. And now that she was sitting there, having shifted into a tail, she declared before turning to the nearest person to her side, "There. The heat is gone. Now, how long do we think it will take until the power turns back on, because I like had these soufflés in the oven and they've definitely gone flat by now."

Though Donna was six months into her tenure as Coalition Leader, her office space stayed firmly and presently placed at Cove & Associates. While she frequently went to the Coalition Headquarters for work, and she used the old leader's office, it was hard to make that space into her own. Benjamin anak Bandi's personal effects still remained about, some in boxes and some still scattered in his rush to attend to the family emergency that kept him from re-election. That office was useful when she needed to find something through previous meeting notes or, perhaps, if she wanted a Norton Anthology of Drama. But her office at Cove & Associates was her space. She'd worked her way up to it, and she'd never wanted to make another feel like it was hers. There was no space for her on campus, except when she took office hours at the library's small cafe. Most of the time, if Donna had meetings, any kind of meetings, they were here. She unfortunately could not be at Coalition Headquarters all the time. Besides, this space was more suitable. Not everyone that needed to see her was a member of the Coalition. Not all of them could meet her in a space they had no access to.

The office itself was full of darker tones and wood. Several bookshelves displaying law books, other texts that served their uses, and her numerous accolades, were behind her desk, with two chairs on the other side that she might discuss information with her clients. The desk had clutter, but it was organized. The room itself was larger than some of the others, a luxury that Donna earned from being a senior partner. There was also a nice leather couch with a coffee table, and two chairs facing it for a more casual setting to discuss business. Everything was arranged in such a way that allowed Donna to feel in control, just the way that she liked it.

She was searching through her file cabinet of relavent casework when she heard a knock on the door. Looking at the clock, Donna offered a warm, "Come in, please. Are you my 3:30?"

The last time Amita had seen this many people crowded into the same area, there'd been a man on a stand with a rope around his neck at the center of it all. It was a celebration in its own way, but certainly not in the way the people around her were celebrating now. She did not know what Pride this festival referred to, but there were people all around with bright colors and flags held high everywhere. Her old teachings, her old way of life, would have told her Pride was something to let go of, that it was only a fleeting feeling that might get in the way of true nirvana-- but now, well, perhaps people just needed something to be proud about. She could understand that, had come to understand that her old views were for a time that had long passed. She was trying to living in the present, something she'd struggled to do every time she'd come down out of her mountains.

Now, while she'd called Appalachia her home for a long two centuries, she was still unused to its people and properties. Lunar Cove was a cozy seaside town last she saw it, and when she'd returned no more than a year ago (though what was one year in a life of over two-thousand more?) it had grown to the sprawling community it was now, big enough for an entire parade of people to march through its streets-- which were now paved with something Amita had learned was called "asphalt".

Curiously, she watched this parade from afar, content to simply observe. Soon enough, though, she leaned to whoever was next to her and asked, "What exactly is this LGBTQ, then? And what is the addition symbol doing at the end of it? What are we adding?"

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I offered to adjust your app settings."

One mention of Yasin's profession at the counter was rounding to an hour-long inspection of a stranger's phone. "And, uh, you may want to start password protecting your photos." Cat pics, exam cheat sheets, nudes, selfies, PINs...over the years, Yasin had seen it all!

The crowd roared, and extending a pristinely armored hand to accept their adoration, the gallant blue knight reveled in the intoxicating gleam of victory. His valiant steed whinnied, and two ladies approached to drape garlands around his rider's shoulders as he dismounted into the dirt. His loyal footman, who had stood by his side through jousts and sword fighting and kingdom saving against the machinations of the devious red knight, placed a rose in the warrior's hand. And leaning backward, Todd pulled the helmet from his head, golden hair glistening in the spotlight overhead.

He had auditioned for this gig several weeks prior. And while he had needed some time to figure out how to properly and safely wield a flail, he was good-looking and good at riding a horse. The animals seemed to adore him, and while the day's victor and saboteur alternated with each show, Todd lived for this very moment. He was loved. The audience cheered for each dramatic flourish. There would even be autographs and photo ops in the plaster castle lobby after the show.

"What's this? It seems Sir Armand the Blue is seeking out his courtly love. They will receive a coupon from our sponsors at Ye Olde Joe's Pasta & Pizzeria." The queen's voice echoed throughout the room as she presided over the tournament from her perch.

And swaggering over to the blue section of the arena, Todd locked eyes with someone sitting in the second row. He offered the rose to them and grinned.

"Don't mind the mess!" The voice echoed through the shop, but no one stood behind the counter of the new thrift store in town. Instead, the ominous and muffled voice seemed to be calling out from somewhere amongst the overflowing racks that bowed beneath decades of fashion. Jewelry glittered from behind locked cabinets, resting in mismatched teacups, only for a towering mountain of gowns, coats, and other garments near the entrance of the shop to topple over to reveal the petite shopkeeper. "If I knew where everything was, it would hardly be a thrift store. Oh! There you are," They beamed as they tossed a feather boa that had landed on top of their head behind them. Zeina may have been buried under a box of their own pile of stuff they had been trying to place on top of an antique cabinet, but now that they had finally wrestled themselves free, they were ready to help one of their first customers. "Now don't tell me. We are shopping for Pride?" They guessed.

Andy had stopped lying to themselves about this visit to town being temporary, and had decided that being on the wrong side of the vampire clan probably wasn't something they wanted for themselves. So the dark haired vampire had relented and signed everything needed to join the cul clan.

@lunarcovestarters / open to all

"Who made the potato salad?" Bess turned to the person next to her in line and shoveled another mouth full of the potato salad. "Don't point. I need to know if they're available for friendship." She smiled and nodded.

"Let the betting begin! I've got ten dollars on Ken. That is ten dollars on Ken. Is anyone fixing to double it? That's another for Vivek." Lennon had been racking up the bids for the fights. Was it the most sanctioned thing to be doing during the Town's Sports Tournament? No, but it had been proving to be a rather lucrative pop-up business, and she had done a good job on keeping it on the down low thus far. "Hey, you wanna get in on this? Five-dollar entry and then whatever else you want to bet on your fighter of choice."

Dhruv felt the slight burn in his calves somewhere between one sprint and the next, the heaviness never really faded these days, but right now he didn't care all too much. A laugh escaped him breathlessly as he chased after the ball, cutting across the pitch as the noise of opponents and teammates alike surged around him. It had been far too easy to tie a blue bandana around his wrist, securing it tight so it didn't fall off as he ran. It took even less thought to sign up.

He loved football long before Lunar Cove had taught him loss. Before being a werewolf had become another thing to manage. Back when he was a kid chasing a ball down cramped apartment hallways until his mother shouted at him to stop breaking things. Back when university matches had left him exhausted, collapsing onto the sidelines with teammates with a grin. Mehta. 5. He was glad to dust off and don his old jersey again.

Grass beneath his boots. Adrenaline pumping through him. He felt alive. The familiar weight of movement was muscle memory older than most of the things that haunted him these days. He missed this. The ease. The way he could move without looking down at the ball, trusting it to stay exactly where it belonged. The small adjustments made on instinct rather than thought. The effortless glance over his shoulder before receiving a pass, already mapping the field and knowing exactly where to go.

for teammates:

The ball found him near the edge of the box, and Dhruv met it with the outside of his foot before it could bounce away, cushioning the speed as he felt two opposing members stepping in. He rolled the ball backward under his sole, pivoting neatly away from pressure, and looked up when he heard someone call out. "Easy," he replied with a nod.

A teammate had broken free down the middle with far more space and better odds than he saw himself having. Dhruv threaded the pass without hesitation sending it cleanly through the defender who committed too early. It had enough speed so that that his teammate could collect it easily. He wasn't looking to score anyway, never really had been, the setup was enough to tug a smile on his face. "Take the shot!"

for opponents:

He weathered a slight shove at his shoulder before falling back into his position. This suited him. Defence. Observation. Timing. He had those on lock. Tracking the opposing player as they moved, Dhruv read the subtle shift in posture before the pass had even been made. Exhaustion tugged at his limbs, body reminding him that coffee wasn't a substitute for sleep but anticipation and joy overpowered everything right now.

The pass came and Dhruv moved. "Mind?" It only took one clean step to cut across the runner's path, foot hooking around the ball with precision to steal possession smoothly. "Cheers!" Smile turned into a laugh at the protest that followed.

for spectators:

He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone this long without thinking about what everyone else thought. Out here, for ninety minutes, all he had to do was play. A quick touch forward. Another to shield it. Tried and tested, it worked every time.

josie stepped out of boba cha with her drink in one hand and her phone in the other, already distracted by a string of texts she probably should've ignored. she was so focused on typing out a reply that she didn't notice someone approaching until it was far too late. her shoulder collided with theirs, and suddenly her freshly purchased brown sugar milk tea was no longer in her hand. "oh shit!" she yelped, watching in horror as the cup went airborne. the lid popped off mid-flight, sending tea and boba pearls scattering dramatically across the sidewalk before the empty cup clattered to the ground.

"oh darn it!" for a long moment, josie simply stared at the mess, looking like she'd just witnessed a personal tragedy. then her gaze slowly lifted to the stranger she'd run into. "i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to bump into you. i just-- i got really distracted with summer break."

OPTION A location: Yellow Submarine

On breaks from work, Zuri loved to walk around the aquarium, visiting her favorite exhibits and sea creatures. A cuttlefish, nearly fully blended with the sand and rocks around it, lived in the massive tank before her, and was one of her favorites to visit. To the other person standing beside her, she offered, “Did you know cuttlefish are actually colorblind? It's kinda crazy, because they can exactly color match their surroundings to blend in. Kinda like what people think chameleons do, but cooler.”

OPTION B location: Happy Harvest Farmer's Market

Stevie enjoyed farmer's markets, and needed to stock up on produce and other essentials before heading picking up Rhiannon up from school. The school year was winding down and with summer about to start, Stevie was anxious to find a more permanent living situation for her and her daughter that didn't end in Motel. With those thoughts momentarily on the backburner, she passed a stand specifically for different flavored honeys. “Huh. Eucalyptus honey... Interesting, but not sure how my eleven year old will feel about that one.”

"They were right, the cat distribution center is real!" A disturbance had come from the bushes while on her walk. Instead of making the reasonable decision and keep walking, Talia had decided to investigate the rustling. Worst-case scenario, it was a raccoon, and she had to go get a rabies shot. However, it turned out to be the best case possible because in the bush, it was a small kitten. She held the tiny creature to the person walking with her, eyes wide and filled with awe. "I've been chosen. I'm now a mother. I love them so much." Her voice was going up a few octaves as she talked to the kitten. "Unless you want to be co-parents," she added quickly, though she didn't really want to be. Talia was just being nice. "They need a name and probably a bath. Just to be safe."

Option A Location: Rose Tinted

Dying had, of course, not been part of his planned itinerary in this bizarre little town, but the few days in the hospital, leading up to his release early that morning, had proven somehow even more frustrating. Tripp could recognize this instinctual reaction stemmed from a sort of dull shock, an attempt to latch onto the concrete when everything suddenly felt so abstract. If he could be annoyed at something, anything, he did not have to think too strongly about his current circumstances. He was dead. He was now something else. Big deal. He still had work to do. This place, however, proved a little pink for his liking, and the décor leaned a little on-the-nose for his tastes.

The meeting he had missed in it, however, was supposed to be over tea, which he did know how to take, but sunlit rendezvous seemed to be out-of-the-question for the moment. Still, Saturday evening drinks were not a bad place to talk business, even if the storeowner he was meeting was running late. "Excuse me." He leaned to the person seated beside him among the tables with a pristine smile. "This is a genuine question. Does this taste burned to you, or is it me? I think this champagne's been frozen in the bottle." Most things simply did not taste good anymore, he was quickly realizing.

Option B Location: Drop It Like a Squat

Power. He still could not believe the utter power coursing through him. He could leap higher, lift heavier, run faster, and punch harder. For some time now, he had been jumping rope in front of one of the mirrors, entirely unfatigued. The sensation was downright intoxicating, as though he had finally cast off limitations he did not even know were holding him back from achieving his true potential.

"You know, friend, I thought vampires weren't supposed to have reflections," he hummed, cocking his head to one side but not interrupting his own flow. "But here I am." He smiled. "That said, I didn't know 'vampire' was a thing a person could actually be either. Do you ever get used to it?" Tripp smirked. "This is a cool place, though. Have you been a member long?"

He was on a day pass because while he was still staying at the Emerald Hotel, he did not like hotel gyms. No one ever wiped them down, and a treadmill and a few measly dumbbells were less conducive to anything but looking busy.

Option A where: Lunar Cove Public Library

"It's the alphabet, Bartholomew," Rivkah said with an exasperated sigh. "Not rocket science." She plucked the book he'd unceremoniously shoved onto the shelf, placing Fitzgerald, F. Scott between von Volkman, Richard and Vonnegut, Kurt. If she had her way, they wouldn't be in the same section, but the public library was organized differently to her own personal library, and even the one at the university. She pursed her lips. "I know you know your alphabet." The boy, sheepish, looked up at her and shrugged. He probably wanted to be here much less so than she wanted him here, sorting her shelves incorrectly, but the boy had was here for community service, so it wasn't as if she could send him away.

"Sorry about that, Misses R," Bartholomew very thoughtfully and melodramatically said. Rivkah just barely refrained from rolling her eyes.

"It's Miss," she corrected with a hiss, "and no you're not. Don't lie to me." She leaned down close. "I see right through you, Barry. Now put the books away properly or I'll make you redo the entire section."

She wasn't a cold person, per say, but she knew the type of kid Bartholomew was-- she'd been just like him, at one point-- and she knew a gentle hand was only something the troubled teen would take advantage of. So, tough love it was.

The sharp, shrill ding! of the front desk bell pulled her away from her post, towering over the teen slumped on the floor. Unfurling her arms, she headed towards the front. "Hello," she greeted, putting back on her easy, relaxed smile, "how can I help you today?"

---

Option B

where: New Leaf Bookstore

As Rivkah dragged her fingers along the spines of the books on the shelf, she couldn't help but pluck out each one out of place and put them back in where they belonged, if it was close by. Perhaps she just couldn't help it. Every now and then, she'd pull one out and add it to the growing stack in her own arms-- some new titles, some old, some she already owned twice over. It didn't really matter to her what genre or author or section, they all went in the pile if they caught her eye. She had at least four walls filled top to bottom with shelves of books, and while some might call it hoarding, she liked to think of it as an abundance. A collection, though she kept the actual rare and unique tomes in a separate room, filled with only two walls of shelves.

Her finger paused on an old, threadbare spine and tapped against it before tugging it out. Next to her, she noticed someone perusing the shelves as well, but when she noticed that they had not pulled out a single book yet, she leaned over and whispered (because bookstores were library adjacent, of course), "Need any recommendations? Or are we just window shopping today?"

In some ways, a black cloud still lay over Lunar Cove, a creeping, writhing darkness that revealed itself in the frayed expressions on his neighbors' faces and in the heavy stench of turmoil, still clinging to the air. But nature did not deign notice the troubles of the insignificant creatures flitting about the planet's face. Time moved on.

Spring had planted strong roots by then, warm weather, blue skies, and the chirping of insects, sounds where everywhere else rested silent. Rohan sat now at a table on the green, spreading out a few cards from the tarot deck he'd own even before coming to this town. He looked up when a shadow fell across him. "Hm? Oh, hello. I'm afraid I can't really...it's not literal magic anymore. But humans have used these for divination as much as dark witches. Why not werewolves? Do you have a query?" He gestured at the seat across from him.

Option A Location: Outside the Bathrooms in Eclipse

Standing in front of the washroom mirror, Todd ran his hands through his sweat-soaked golden hair, trying to push it into something at least resembling his usual flare. Ducking down, he scooped up a handful of cold water from the faucet and splashed it across his face, letting out a few low grunts, sounds meant to hype him up. He bounced on his heels, then, as if getting ready to play the football game of his life. "Woo! Let's fucking go."

The young man was not the only person in Lunar Cove to be trying to quell their bad emotions with debauchery; the thump of music and the roar of the crowd just beyond the door were proof enough of that. But a stifling kind of discontent clung to him still, a terrible emptiness no amount of drinks or good times would plug.

He shoved his way back into the club and nearly collided with someone near the entryway. "You don't wanna go in that one, dude. It's a disaster area. Dance with me instead?"

Option B Location: Shipfaced

"We're clooosseeed, brah. Can't you read the sign?" Business had been slow that evening, horribly slow, slow as hell. Part of Todd wondered if the beloved bar was hitting an unfortunate middle ground for the customers of Lunar Cove. People who were too scared to hang were staying home, and people who were looking for numbing excitement were perhaps on the hunt for a venue a little more hardcore. He had certainly spent his own fair share of time doing just that.

Clad in his tip-making crop top, an ensemble that had actually earned him almost nothing that night, Todd sighed when the door opened. A joint was dangling from his lips, and evidently enough, the pleasant high was keeping him from getting too annoyed.

"Tell ya what, I'll mix you up my specialty. It's called a Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch...Ch-Ch-Cherry Bomb." He seemed to remember he was smoking on the clock inside his workplace and made some effort now to hide it. "Woaaah, who put this there? Weird."