My heart has wings and I can fly.

girls that glitter love the dark

I’ll take creepy questions for 100, Alex. But also...thanks for the compliment, I guess?

That’s an…oddly specific question. Did this happen to you, anon? If so, I hope you don’t suffer from ophidiophobia or I’m sure that mood went away really quick.

Do people actually do this? Because that’s absolutely not a thing in my world.

I’m afraid of a lot of things- just not anything that anyone can help me with so they’re not worth mentioning.

I’m not afraid. It’s much more complicated than that. Once the council approves something it’s hard to go against them. If it was just my father it would be one thing. But without a viable- in their eyes- reason to reject this stupid arranged marriage? I’m sort of stuck.

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It never really ceases to amaze him just how much patience the woman seems to be able to muster for his obstinance.  Very few other people in his life have stuck around to put up with even half as much, but despite his best efforts Meadow remains steadfast.  “And yet here you are, still runnin’ full speed and face first into the same brick wall you’ve been tryin’ to get through for years, anyway,” The human points out unhelpfully.  “You know, Meadow, I’m pretty sure there’s some kinda’ delusional disorder associated with doin’ the same thing over an’ over again, and expecting different results.  You might wanna’ look into therapy.”  He’s certainly one to talk.

Seth watches her as she seems to take a moment to mentally prepare herself.  It strikes him as exceptionally odd how she’d attempted to deflect the conversation, even despite his badgering.  Meadow has never struck him as the sort to keep uncomfortable secrets; or to embroil herself in anything questionable enough to be worth keeping them.  And then, there it is.  The other shoe finally drops.  The revelation itself doesn’t come as a surprise to him–not really–but the messenger certainly does.  “People I know?” 

He locks his gaze on Meadow’s, the flask of booze in his hand all but forgotten as he studies the subtle shifts in her expression.  Witches.  Shapeshifters.  Fae.  Seth hears her, but the words seem to rattle around in his head for a long minute.  He’s been in Wolford his whole life; seen a lot of strange and at times inexplainable things, and frankly he’d been harboring suspicions about the existence of something long before vampires and werewolves went public.  Seth still doesn’t know exactly what he saw on the night of the accident, but for ten years he’s maintained that it wasn’t human.  If one flavor of supernatural exists, why not a dozen?  Slowly, eyes still on the woman across the desk, he raises the flask to his lips to take another particularly long swig, and shifts to sit back in his chair, taking a deep breath.  He doesn’t speak right away, but when he does, his voice has lost its usual caustic edge; he sounds almost like his old self.  “So…Which one are you?”      

“I wonder if you understand the irony of the person who consistently and repeatedly seems to try my patience despite it failing every time being the one to say that,” Meadow teased mildly though there was once again no actual judgement or frustration in her voice. Though she doubted that anyone would blame her if she did, in fact, finally lose her patience with him. Most people who knew the two of them were probably wondered how she hadn’t lost her temper. But really she was just fine with him acting however he felt comfortable acting. He had never done anything to her, had never given her a real reason to push him out of her life- his abrupt personality wasn’t a sufficient enough reason. It was probably a strange dynamic to most but it was one she was oddly comfortable with. What that said about her? Well, she wasn’t about to look into that too deeply. Most of the relationships in her life were ones that she didn’t want to look into too deeply.

Human, Meadow sort of wished she could say simply because then she could possibly put somewhat of an end to the conversation- and perhaps because given what was going on in her family would be so much easier to deal with were she actually human. She wouldn’t have the council to deal with, after all. And despite being a member of it? The council was doing her no favors where her father was concerned. But once again she couldn’t actually bring herself to lie to him. It was a fine line between keeping things a secret and outright telling someone something she knew wasn’t true. And while she would never be sure if the legends of fae not being able to lie was true or not true? She really was only good at omitting things. “Fae,” the brunette finally admitted after a drawn-out moment of silence.

“Seelie fae, technically,” she clarified though she wasn’t sure that most people would know the difference between Seelie and Unseelie unless they knew a lot about the supernatural community as a whole. For all she knew other species within the community didn’t even know the difference between the two. “Seelie are generally known as the lighter of the fae. Probably because at some point people thought that the word sounded like ‘silly’ so they assume that means all Seelie are light-hearted. And while we are generally kinder than our Unseelie counterparts…” Meadow trailed off, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying the skin between her teeth as she tried to decide the best way to put what was actually going through her mind in relation to both her kind and the Unseelie. “There was a fiction series- they get a lot of facts wrong and it is insanely sexual so unless that is your thing I wouldn’t recommend it- but they did say something about how ‘blood looks just as red on a golden floor as one a black one’. It was their way of saying the Seelie can be just as dark as the Unseelie and…well, some of them can.  It just isn’t as common. Most of the Seelie I know are generally very nice people.”

“Fae and witches are pretty similar to humans. Just with…some extra abilities,” she explained as though that meant anything. Because at the end of the day they weren’t human- and their genetics would insure they never would be.

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They’ve gone round and round about this so many times over the years that it feels like a familiar dance at this point; some sort of an inelegant two-step with too much spinning, pushing, pulling, but never quite falling into a graceful rhythm.  Agree to disagree is simply Meadow’s preferred way to end the song, Seth thinks, before they sashay right back onto the proverbial floor to do it all over again to the next one.  At least, that’s how their arguments usually go.  “Patience ain’t really a virtue when it comes to dealin’ with a certain kinda’ person, darlin’.”  He means himself, clearly, but the assertion applies broadly enough to encompass just about every other asshole currently residing in a Wolford zipcode and beyond.  “Oughtta’ know that by now.”

She already knows the answer to her question, but the human indulges his friend anyway, fixing her with the most dead-eyed, are you fucking kidding me stare he can muster.  “Uh, yeah.”  It’s how he is, and frankly, if that comes as a surprise to Meadow after all this time he figures that’s on her.  In truth, her point isn’t entirely invalid and Seth surely isn’t dense enough to miss the perfectly reasonable crux of what she’s suggesting, but he’s not about to tell her so.  “Jesus Christ, Meadow, you done woman-splainin’ my own profession to me yet?”  

He keeps his gaze locked on hers; one eyebrow sliding skeptically upward as he regards the young woman across the desk.  She’s a lot of things, but not a liar.  Certainly not a good one.  “Bullshit.” Seth declares after a moment, calling her bluff.  “It’s not nothin’.  You know somethin’, don’t you?”  Of course she would; she’s a journalist–one of the damned few good ones in these parts–and if anyone would have an ear to the ground about something like this it’s her.  He leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the edge of Meadow’s desk as he lifts the flask to his lips to take another pull.  “Spill it.”  

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“Did you ever think that maybe if you weren’t so contrary I wouldn’t have to spend my time explaining things to you that should be blatantly obvious?” Meadow countered though her tone did little to imply she expected anything different from him. To be friends with Seth was to accept that he was contrary on the best of days and downright ornery as a general rule. But that also didn’t mean that Meadow wasn’t going to remind him of that. Nor did she think he expected anything less from her. Because while he was contrary as second nature- she seemed to point out the natural reaction to him being contrary as though it was second nature to her. People probably often wondered how the two of them could get along when they were so different- but she was quite simply loyal. The change in him wasn’t enough to push her away- even if she had no problem pointing out his faults.

Meadow heaved a sigh, sitting back in her seat, placing the food container back down onto her desk rather than risking dropping it. She had tried to change subjects, she really did but she couldn’t really blame anyone but herself for the conversation going the way it had. She had been the one to bring up the supernatural and the fact that there were beings other than werewolves and vampires- something she definitely shouldn’t have done despite knowing that most of the people Seth knew? They probably weren’t human. “Just that there are probably people you know in town that aren’t…strictly speaking human. But aren’t werewolves. Or vampires.”

Alright, were she being completely honest? There were definitely people he knew that weren’t human. She wasn’t human, of course, but she also knew that like Meadow herself Seth was close to a member of the Dawson clan growing up- Max, if she remembered correctly though admittedly it had been a long time since she actually thought about who in the Dawson clan was friends with who. “Definitely know people who aren’t human,” she corrected herself though at the end of the day she knew she wouldn’t ‘out’ Max as being someone who wasn’t human. That absolutely wasn’t the right thing to do. Not that throwing out the knowledge of the supernatural community was exactly kosher. “Like…witches or shapeshifters or fae.” God help her, she really wished she hadn’t started that conversation.

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          “Oh,” Gwen let out, figuring that the only way to tease someone about being a reporter was that print was dead, but that was really only relevant if that’s the kind of reporter she was. Maybe Meadow was on the news and Gwen just didn’t know because she didn’t really pay attention to that kind of thing. “Well, so long as you love it, right?”

            “Thanks, that’s really nice,” Gwen offered, not one who would backhand what anyone said even if she felt differently. It was sort of hard to have a stage presence when your singing was not why anyone was there, but it was something until she was finally able to speak with the producer in town, her demo almost done and she’d be good. “It is, I want to be able to perform and write and tour, not sure if it’ll be possible but…I feel like I’ve done everything I can to get it right so…if I fail, I know I’ll have failed with as much as I could have done.”

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“Sure.” Could Meadow really say she loved her job? She wanted to be able to say that but the truth of the matter was she didn’t care for it as much as she hoped. Yes, she loved the very idea of it but the actuality fell short. Perhaps a part of that had to do with the town, with how little there was that actually went on there. It meant she really didn’t have much to look forward to when it came to what she got to write. More often than not she was stuck with writing human interest pieces- which all told were really not very interesting.

“It isn’t the easiest industry to break into but determination is definitely a big part of it,” the Seelie reasoned though she was by no means trying to be discouraging. It was always nice when people had a passion for something and were determined to accomplish their goals. Not everyone was so lucky to have a passion; not everyone knew what they wanted to do and went for it without hesitation. And yes, everyone who was an adult was aware that their goals might not necessarily be easy to reach but she had a point. At least if someone failed after trying quite? They could say they tried with all their might. “And you keep the attention of the people at the casino well which isn’t always easy when people are there to drink and gamble. So, that is a good indication that you have what it takes.”

“I don’t think it does either,” he never had any hope that after he was turned, he would be less clumsy. He knew that if it would happen, it would be something that he would have to work on, that it would only change with time, and it wouldn’t be something that immortality could give him, “I do think that someone that wasn’t born with it, can change that about themselves though,” especially when in his case, he was clumsy because he didn’t pay attention, if he was able to change that about himself, he would probably be less clumsy, and accidents would happen a lot less, “It’s probably because it can stop objects from breaking, I don’t know if it would work with people too though,” he never tried anything like that, he watched a scene on friends, where Joey’s head was wrapped with it, and Ross and Chandler punched him, but it was just a tv show, sometimes they weren’t realistic.

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“Maybe. But it probably takes a lot of practice to get over being clumsy. Some people are just born with grace, some people aren’t, I suppose. But it isn’t too bad to be a little clumsy. As long as you don’t hurt yourself too badly then there’s nothing really wrong with it.” Or at the very least Meadow never saw anything wrong with being less than graceful. For some reason it seemed to be something people looked down on and judged people for. But she couldn’t understand why. People were who they were, graceful or not. And there were so many worse things to be thank lacking in grace so why make that a big deal? She would never understand that. Nor would she ever try to. “I’m not so sure about that. I think you’re just as likely to knock things down and break them in a bubble or not. Maybe even more so because there’s more space to try to control.”

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“Sure I am,” the human tosses right back, as though he’s making a concerted effort to be dismissive of any sincerity that had accompanied Meadow’s assertion.  He knows what she’s thinking–what everyone who’s been around town since before thinks–and some part of him wants to let her keep doing it…to cling to his last vestiges of decency, and kindness, and some sad tattered remnants of the good man he used to be.  It isn’t the truth, though, and Seth knows it.  He isn’t that person anymore; he hasn’t been for a very long time.  There are only three headstones standing on his family’s small plot at the Wolford Cemetery, but four people died that day on the mountainside.  One of them just hasn’t quite made it into the grave yet.  Whoever he is, now, doesn’t deserve the pass or the excuses people try to make for him.  “Only mildly?” he scoffs, reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket for the flask of whiskey he keeps perpetually on himself at all times.  “Gonna’ have to up the ante.  Meadow, your bar’s in the fuckin’ ground.”

He fidgets with the cap on the flask, idly spinning it loose before bringing the small metal opening to his lips and taking a hearty swig.  “I do landscapes all the time,” he shrugs, letting the whiskey linger on his tongue a moment before swallowing.  It burns all the way down his throat.  “I like doin’ ‘em, but there ain’t no money in that.  Not even the commissions, rare as those are.”  While there are occasionally requests from the local travel bureaus and nature magazines, it’s unfortunately not a particularly lucrative niche for most photographers in this day and age.  “It’s like your news stories; sure there’s plenty out there you could write about, but the shit that makes the front page is what’s sellin’ papers.  The demand and the profits in my line of work are in lifestyle, that’s the trend now.  That’s what people wanna’ see hangin’ on their livin’ room walls, or plastered over their Instagram.  I do natural light, so I work the scenery in, but it’s still focused on the client element.  Which means takin’ pictures of people.”  Seth takes another swig.  “–And sometimes people in furry suits.” 

For his part, Seth appears thoroughly unconvinced by Meadow’s defense of contemporary Mormonism.  It isn’t the religious side he’d been referencing so much as the cultural aspects–namely, patriarchal traditions that result in young women finding themselves unwittingly trapped in polygamous nightmares.  The Jansen boys had been raised up in the local church here in town–Hell, up until her health had begun failing a few years back his mother had run the Sunday School and community outreach programs for decades–but it’s been quite some time since Seth has involved himself with any of that.  In any case, the religious community in Wolford has never struck him as the type to engage with arranged marriages.  Whatever Meadow’s father is a part of, it certainly isn’t mainstream.  The look he’s giving her goes from skeptical to downright curious, however, when Meadow abruptly does an about-face from the train of thought she’d been pursuing.  “Nope, hold up, go back.”  The human raises a hand, gesturing to stop the conversation shift before his friend can go any further in the other direction.  “You were talkin’ about vampires, and werewolves.  If it doesn’t stop there?  What do you mean by that?”

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“Guess we’re going to have to agree to disagree on that one, aren’t we?” Meadow knew better than to argue with Seth when it came to whether or not he was an asshole. He wasn’t going to change his stance no was she. Not because she was necessarily giving him a free pass but because she didn’t see him as such. That was her opinion and she had a right to it. Yes, she did keep in mind a loot of the stuff that had happened to him; yes, she was all too aware that the deaths of his family quite obviously changed him. And she understood why that was the case. What person wouldn’t change to at least some degree after such a huge tragedy? Losing one member of his family would have been enough to change him but to lose all three? Including his own children? Who could really expect him to be the same man that he once was? But she wasn’t really giving him a pass because of that. She just didn’t see him as an asshole because of the changes. He couldn’t convince her to think differently either no matter how hard he tried. “Maybe I just have more patience than most people when other people are concerned?” the Seelie suggested.

“Must you be contrary to everything I say?” Meadow teased gently though she hadn’t really expected otherwise. She didn’t think that Seth would just enthusiastically agree with her suggestions. And she also didn’t pretend she understood the photographer profession better than he did- or even close to the same level of understand that he had. Her only experience with it was playing around with a camera as a teen and she never really researched the profession or how best to make money from it. There had never really been a reason to do that. “Maybe you wouldn’t be able to make a profession out of it but I’m sure if you really wanted to you could make a little extra money out of it. People use pictures like that for stock photography, too. There are plenty of websites you can sell pictures to that people pay to use for various things. Not saying you could make a living with those photographs, just that maybe it might mean a few less people in furry suits at the end of the day.

“Nothing,” Meadow dismissed with a wave of her hand, thinking there wouldn’t be enough alcohol in all of Wolford to have that conversation and also that she had been an idiot for letting the conversation go down that track. Keeping who and what the people in town were a closely guarded secret was something any supernatural being in the town had been doing for their entire lives. Just because people knew that werewolves and vampires existed didn’t mean that it was alright to all of a sudden let the town know who was a part of those groups- or that there were other supernatural beings in the town. “You don’t really want to swan dive into that stuff, Seth,” she advised though some part of her was all too aware that she wasn’t exactly going to be able to backtrack the conversation. She had already tried more than once and he had cut that idea off rather quickly. But no one could ever say she hadn’t tried. An attempt was absolutely made. “I was just saying- what if there’s more than that, that’s all.” Too close to a lie for her own liking, something that tasted bitter on her tongue. Were the old stories about fae not being able to lie true? Not to her knowledge but she had never been a big liar to begin with so she wouldn’t know for certain.

  “you do know, there is a different version of yourself living inside the mind of everyone you’ve met. you may be perceived by many as a friend.” did he dare make a joke that she could also been seen as a fiancée to one, he might not agree with the engagement or have anything to really do with the deal it certainly was in place leaving him to wonder what would come about it. he couldn’t believe the council really approved something without the other parties, were they that stupid? 

  his head bobbed as she spoke just to show an indication he was still listening, at least aware that she was speaking on some level. it wasn’t like he disagreed with her though he did wonder if she was so particular about the people she spent time with why was she at the casino of all places, most didn’t associate the place with good things. “so why exactly are you spending time alone then - ran out of options in town?”

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“You do know that when you put it that way you make it sound like every person’s mind is an alternate universe and we all have a thousand copies of ourselves out there.” Meadow arched an eyebrow at Diego and his perception on what people might consider other people. She doubted though that anyone who might consider her a friend would be someone she wouldn’t know thought of her as a friend. She did have a strange variety of friends- but that was really simply who she was to people. She was the woman who was always a friend but never anything other than that. She definitely wasn’t the girl who someone date and so she definitely didn’t think whoever was unlucky enough to have been chosen by her father to be her fiancé would be fond of that idea.

“My friends have other things to do. Their worlds don’t revolve around me, Diego.” Leo was generally off doing whatever it was Leo was doing- she didn’t pry and she knew when he wanted to tell her something he would without much prompting. Seth was often off doing whatever he deemed necessary given his history- and she didn’t judge or question how he chose to deal with the trauma of the loss of his family; Jun had his family’s business to run. No, they were always rather busy with their own live and while she did spend time around them? She didn’t take up too much of their time either. “And I’m not a needy friend. I’m well-aware they have better things to do than waste all of their free time with me.”

  “i suppose it depends on where you stand yeah? wolford is boring to some and adventurous to others. though i hope it doesn’t get too exciting, sometimes that isn’t always for the better.” her gaze lingered for a moment, thinking on how there was plenty of darkness simmering just below the illusion of peace in wolford. many people were waiting for the change to flip this imaginary scale. “ah isn’t that iconic for dads though, asshole should be the title given then once proven they are a real dad they earn that one…”

 “definitely.”

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“I think it could be exciting for people who have never lived in a small town. Or for people who aren’t used to having a town so full of supernatural creatures.” While Meadow reasoned that supernatural creatures clearly existed all over the world it seemed like there was a higher concentration of them either born in Wolford or moving there, like there was some kind of beacon in the town that attracted them. Or maybe somehow they instinctively knew they’d have some kind of support system in place there- that there were other supernatural beings too and that many of the neighbors that were, in fact, human were alright with their less than human neighbors.

“I used to tell my stepfather that people should need to be able to take tests before they were allowed to be in a child’s life. If they don’t pass the test? Then they don’t get to call themselves parents. We’d have far less kids with traumatic childhoods if we made sure they were with good people. Of course, logically I know that would never happen but it’d be nice to think people would try to look out for kids that way. Do you have other family you’re close to though?”

Don't have one, sorry. And if I did my father would probably find a way to mess that up for me anyway.

Don't spend a moment wishing your father would come back into your life. You're not going to like it when he does.

“Yep, basically,” he laughed, he never was offended when people pointed that out about him, actually, he spoke about it a lot himself, sometimes even made fun of it, so he didn’t see why he would be mad about others talking about it. He would admit that it annoyed him when people used it to belittle him, act as if he was any less because of it, he personally didn’t think that made him any less of a person, “I have a feeling the same won’t be said about me, I don’t think that me being a vampire will make me more grace in the future,” it was something that he had to work on, and that had nothing to do with balance, but how short his attention span was at times. If he was focused and paying attention, these like that didn’t usually happen, “My mother used to tell me the same thing.”

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Meadow raised an eyebrow but said nothing at first, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly in amusement. She could admit she wasn’t exactly an expert on vampires and what abilities they had. Other than the obvious apparent immortality, of course. Though she didn’t really reason that was true- vampires could be killed. They just didn’t die the same way that humans did, from old age or disease. So immortality was probably an inaccurate way to describe what they had but it was close enough. But was being graceful a part of what they gained when they turned? She had absolutely no idea and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to delve too deeply into it. Only because it really had nothing to do with her. “I’m not an expert but I’m not sure that the grace comes with the species,” she reasoned after a moment. “I think you either have it or you don’t and if you don’t you learn to make due and just simply deal with it.” She had to deal with it all the time as a child so she knew that sometimes? You just had to roll with it. “I never understood that though. I don’t think a bubble would protect you from getting hurt. You could probably fall a lot easier if you have more interference so why parents say that is a mystery.”