✗ we speak with teeth

Truly, she’d never been all too great at hiding things, and certainly not from anyone who might have stood a hand in helping her beyond that. It was deafening, which seemed ironic considering apart from the few beating hearts and the low hum of the TV still playing the movie Charlie had wanted to watch; there was nothing else. Yet white noise clouded her mind, thought and churning sounds that no living person should have ever been able to sense so easily. It messed with her far more than she let on, a creature of unfathomable strength, now a woman seemingly afraid of the snapping twigs underfoot a stranger across the street. “That’s okay.. I must’ve..— maybe it’s in my coat pocket.” Did she even wear a coat? It didn’t matter, as she stepped back in what she might have hoped would be a near indiscernible movement, yet she’d misjudged and seemingly backed herself into a corner, almost literally. He’d pinned her for what it was, and something about it unfurled in her chest like a live wire. She should have had this worked out by now; eight long months and the simple art of her own forgetfulness still hadn’t seemed to offer her any leeway. “I’m..– it’s fine, honestly.” She case hues downward, a lowly laugh that held little element of humor bit down gently and she tucked dark tresses in behind her ear. “There’s still some blood bags at home.” How anyone could so surely forget such a thing – that living now comprised itself of choking back blood bags; choking because even though the succulent taste of crimson was beyond anything she’d ever known, her mind still reeled knowing that what she was drinking was blood. More to the point, that she’d had little other choice if she didn’t want to attack any single one person she came across on a daily basis, it seemed foolish to let such thought simply slip her mind on the way out of the house this day. The sound of a button slipping through fabric and piercing azure orbs snapped up to meet the sight of Nixon’s bare chest. “Nixon, no.” She’d state, adamantly. “That’s not..– you don’t have to do that. It’s really not necessary.” Her dry throat constricted and she was sure there was some sense of a visible wince to it as she looked between him and the glowering doorway that led to Charlie. “Really.. it’s not a good idea, if I…– I don’t know if I’ll stop.”

There was always moments in life that felt like it was meant to be defining, like it was meant to be something more than what laid on the surface. This feeling bubbled up deep within the wolf’s chest as he stared over at Taylor. The vampire that, against all odds, had become a lasting member of his friends and family as the nomad attempted to form a life rooted in a single place. The sight before him stirred something deep inside of him. It wasn’t pity, no Nixon didn’t pity the vampire before him. He knew that was the last thing she would ever want. The feeling that pushed him forward, letting the fabric of his flannel fall to the tiled ground, was concern and compassion. Taylor was a beautiful soul, one who was forced into a life that she had never really wanted. Seeing her struggle, witnessing her own form of suffering was agonizing for him. Nixon shook his head lightly, taking small cautious steps towards the woman before him. “You’re starving, Tay”, he repeated, a gentleness in his voice. Nixon didn’t want to startle her, but he was all too aware of the delicate line that he was walking on. 

With her words, it was then he realized that there wasn’t much that he wouldn’t do to try to make her world seem a little less dark. It would be the least he could do for the woman who had been almost a beacon while he was in such a dark place. “It’s probably a terrible idea”, he laughed, the hint of a grin tugging up on his stubble covered cheeks. “It’s probably an awful idea, but it’s the only one that seems right. I don’t want you to walk out of this house and have to try to make it home starving. I don’t want you to live with hurting someone”, he paused, the cautious steps not ceasing as he neared her. Nixon knew the possibility of her losing control was high, just as it was for all new vampires. But he also was aware of who she was as a person, past the creature she had become. He liked to believe that he knew her heart. “I know you’ll stop”, he offered, a hand coming out to brush back a lose strand of his dark locks. “I could give you a long list of all the reasons why I know you would stop, the top two being my trust in you and that little girl out there”, his speech continued, pads of his fingers brushing against her icy skin. The vast difference in their temperatures send a wave of chills cascading up his arm, but the wolf refused to let that distract him further. “I won’t force you to do anything, Taylor. But I want you to know that I’m here when you need it. You don’t scare me.”

His steps stopped as a scream reached his ears, something of pure terror, something absurdly human. “Fuck”, he whispered, parting the tall stocks of corn in time to see the undead cornering two unfortunate souls. “If we survive this, I’m going to need to be incredibly high tomorrow.” @radical-rory

Without recognizing the other man’s face, the other oddities about him hadn’t gone unnoticed. There’s a distinctness to the way Tiber straightens up. He squares his shoulders just a little and stiffens slightly as he takes the red plastic cup. Cerulean pools watch closely as the beer begins to pour from the keg, and he nods along, head bobbing almost habitually. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.” He doesn’t bother trying to hide the fact that he gives the beverage a little sniff before he sips it. “I mean,” Tiber continued once he’d taken a sufficient gulp, “We’re out here gathered around a giant fire in a cornfield. The liquor just makes it easier to forget that we’re trapped, I guess.” And he smirks, knowingly, “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I don’t think there’s much that could actually make anyone forget that they’re not trapped in a small town”, he mused, bringing his drink to her lips. Th other’s actions did not go unnoticed by Nixon, no he was too familiar with watching body language to not take note of it all. The other was suspicious and careful, but for what reason remained a mystery to him. Whatever it was, Nix paid no mind to it as his eyes danced around the perimeter, the fire and the growing crowds of people. “But I would agree that it never hurt to attempt to forget”, his words were wistful for freedom, being bound to this land was too new for the wolf. A natural wanderer stuck in a single place was not something to get used to in a single evening, or something a night of drinking could cure.

She’s got a problem, and right now… it is utter bewilderment. How long could one person stare at the sky? She’s counting the minutes as she stands there, not more than five feet from the man, sucking on a cigarette that only serves to pass said time. There would be no killing tonight, or at least… not that she plans. She honestly loses count of those minutes the moment his attention turns, a smirk forming before she laughs outright and shrugs. “I lost count.” Raising a brow, a cool gaze would flicker over him. “Party is down here, Stinky. Those gas balls aren’t going to keep you much company… unless that’s what you’re into.”

“Stinky?”, he asked, not out of shock but utter bewilderment. If he were to argue, he was not the one between them that carried an odor. But he knew that it was a moot point that would never be settled on. “I am into it, not gas balls, but looking up in the sky. It’s a grounding way to remember that we’re absolutely insignificant”, the wolf confessed as he brought his drink to his lips finally. His gaze flickered over her with curiosity before settling on her face once more. “Did you need something from me? Or were just hoping to give m a heart attack?”

Chestnut orbs stared up at the sky, gazing upon the stars he had once loved so much as a kid. They made him feel small, made him realize that the world around them was insignificant. The stars were really such a humbling experience, but now, all it was was the daydreams of a man trapped. How long he had been off on his own staring up at the constellations, he wasn’t sure, but he knew it was more than time for another drink. When his eyes shifted onto the woman before him, an instant shock hit his system. “Holy fuck”, he groaned, his hand coming to rest on his chest. “How long have you been standing there?”

WHERE: Farmer Johnson’s Cornfield  TIME: 10:05 P.M.

Tiber didn’t need a cornfield and a bonfire as an excuse to get drunk and rowdy with his pack. They’d done it almost every night, at the very edge of Lochewood acres, inside the rickety old bar he’d owned. His appearance hadn’t been one filled with hopes of debauchery and socialization, either. No. Tiberius would attend the event just as he did every year— as a chaperone. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his pack to behave themselves… Actually, it was. They were an emotional bunch, driven by years of pent up aggression and that fiery werewolf temperament. He would not have them acting out in public, and certainly would not allow them to parade around unchecked. That’s just how things went. It’s early still, with the bonfire coming to life just beyond the property line. He’s one of the first people to reach the kegs, and he’s happy to lend a hand when he finds that it’s yet to be tapped. “Hold on.” He grabs the tap, aligning it with the top of the keg and giving it a good bit of pressure as it jammed into place. “Ah, now the fun can start, hmm?” Oceanic hues flicker to the person standing before him, wolfish grin upon his lips.

Being new to the town meant a lot of things to Nixon, like the sense of adventure that came with figuring out just where the twisted supernatural influence began and end, but the biggest influence was figuring out the life his sister. It was odd to him that the girl who had been his best friend since the day she was born had this life he knew nothing about, almost as surreal as it was to know that she was gone. Almost as surreal as he now needed to play father. But that all that was more reason for him to come out tonight, to get a feel for this place that was now his home. What better way to start that than with a drink?

“I like the way you think”, Nix laughed, extending out an extra red cup in his direction. The wolf pumped the tap a few times before finally managing to fill up the other’s cup before his own. “Is it usual to offer to get people shit faced at these sort of things?”

Perhaps it should have been more comforting to know he was there now, but somehow despite the obvious lengths Nixon might go to keep his niece out of harms way, it truly only made her all the more unsteady on her feet. Taylor had been raised here, born with the premise of the supernatural world etched into her mind, and she’d become aware that an unstable vampire, even one so young, was a dangerous thing. Ravenous, one terribly fated moment could have her carving a blood bath in her wake, torn limbs and shattered skulls left behind. “There’s..–” Hues closed tightly, the likely sight of someone struggling with little more than a headache, “she got paint on her clothes earlier, they’re soaking in the laundry and..” Thumb and forefinger reached to pinch tightly at the bridge of her nose, “if you’re hungry, there’s a plate for you in the fridge. It just need reheating.” 

Heartbeats, one after the other – the near delicate patter of one much smaller than the other sounded heavy in the air, Taylor internally cursing herself for being so careless. The remnants of her folder forgotten on the floor, she moved to reach for her bag, digging through her things in search of her keys. “Me?” She glanced up with a trialing offer of a smile, “I’m okay, I think I’ve just been looking at the same thing for too long, it’s throwing me a little.” Not her greatest excuse, the brunette moving to place some distance between them as he met her in the kitchen, nimble fingers tucking darkened locks out of the way as she continued to search her own bag. “It’s just been a long day..” Tight lipped smile curled without the usual ounce of sunlight that could so surely emanate her in the past. Frustration bubbled, not nearly as bright as the hunger, the thud as her bag hit the table almost unnecessary, “I can’t..– are my keys over there?”

Nixon was no fool, he knew that this town was one build on history and tradition. It was their history that made the invisible walls around them, it was also what bound many of the citizens of the town together. But him? He was nothing more than an outsider. A packless outsider who only had one drive, to keep his niece safe and alive. But the wolf didn’t need to of been a town regular at the coffee shop to be able to read the distress that washed over Taylor’s usually peaceful features. The smile he had grown comfort in was no where to be seen and her gaze never seemed to meet his own. Careful steps carried him across the small home and into the kitchen, the dim light seeming to be the only one on in the house. Almost defiantly, he stood before Taylor. Chocolate irises studied her carefully, only half listening to the snippets of the night that was left to him. The paint could wait, the dinner could wait, but what mattered was the fact that there seemed to be a little less life in the woman he had grown to respect and admire over the passing months.

Not a single word passed her lips that he believed. There wasn’t a reason he could believe that the brunette before him would lie, except one. Slowly, Nixon leaned over and brushed the pile of papers back into the file before rising back to his full height. “Tay”, the wolf sighed, voice no more than a whisper, as the folder dropped to the table with a thud that couldn’t compare to the one she had left behind with her purse. “You’re keys aren’t over here”, he spoke, attempting once more to close the distance that she had forced them into once more. “You’re starving, aren’t you?”, the question fell, but he was all too aware that another lie may fall from her plump lips. Nix didn’t need to hear the truth, he could see it and he could feel it. “Let me help”, maybe it was a reckless offer, but it was the only one he had. Nixon was not going to turn Taylor away to the cold to fend for whatever blood she could find or had stashed away. This young vampire had been more of a friend to him than anyone had been in his entire life. The least he could do to show that there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to protect her in any way she needed was to offer a warm vein. “Where is the best for you?”, Nix asked, nimble fingers already working the buttons of his flannel, exposing more of his skin and more of his veins.

@nixwilde​

Little more than a few hours, that was all it was. The contents of her latest project spread out across Nixon’s kitchen counter as she watched, from a distance, as Charlee slept peacefully, curled up on the sofa. Little more than a few hours where she couldn’t find reason to not trust herself to do as she’d always done whenever Nixon had needed an extra helping hand with the little girl. It’d warmed her, children always had — perhaps it bloomed from the knowledge that she could never have allowed herself to have one of her own, even before she’d been turned. It hadn’t been out of fear of being a bad parent; Taylor believed beyond wealth of doubt that she and Waylon would have been amazing parents; it was everything that came with such a thing for those within her own bloodline. Now? Now, the knowledge that she could barely hold herself together around most people should have kept her at arms length. Months of helping out had her being prepared — always prepared, but today she’d been in too much of a rush to even think about it. Her mind already swimming with too much to take in.  The sound of a car pulling into the drive settled a sigh of relief within the burning fire of pressing hunger, a rattled response of documents and sketches spilling across the floor as she’d moved to gather everything in a rush. The sharp click of the front door coming moments after the familiar scent slipped beneath the door itself. “She’s sleeping,” She spoke quietly enough not to cause so much noise she might wake the little girl, “I didn’t want to wake her, so..” Wake her — or worse. Taylor having barely moved from her place in the kitchen for hours after Charlee had fallen asleep. “I just..– she looked so cute there.”

He still was unsure how his life had come to this moment. As tired irises settled on the heavy wooden door that kept him from entering his sisters home, or the house that was now meant to be his home. Part of him wondered if this was all some elaborate dream he would wake up from, that his sister would still be there to raise the beautiful daughter she had brought into this world. Unfortunately, Nixon was all too aware that this was the reality he needed to face. Sasha was dead, he was Charlotte’s guardian, and he was no longer free to roam wherever the wild spirit in his soul desired to lead him. Maybe he had been standing there a minute longer than he intended, but there was something in the fresh night air that was revitalizing. It gave him that strength he needed to push through the door and face his reality. 

The house was dark but he was immediately met with the overwhelming smell of honeysuckle, the natural and innocent smell of Charlotte immediately comforting the rather tense young man. Secondly, the smell of something far more mature and evolved washed over him and Nixon let out a quiet sigh. The truth was, Taylor had been a godsend the last few months when he needed the most help. Nix was out of his league and often times felt as if his world would collapse on him at any second. It was Taylor that offered a lifeline, it was the vampire that made life easier. Immediately, Nixon moved over to the couch, orbs trailing over his slumbering niece. She seemed peaceful, like there wasn’t a single thing in the world plaguing her. “She does”, he agreed with a quiet chuckle, only moving to draw the throw blanket over Charlotte’s shoulders. Nixon’s attention turned to the vampire across the way, curiosity etching onto his features. “You okay?”, he questioned carefully, crossing the threshold into the kitchen. “You look like you’re going to be sick?”