Family comes first

Well, this hadn’t exactly been the ideal start to the reason the vampire had dared to seek out the one vampire he really didn’t seem to see eye-to-eye with,  Noah Blackwell. With the papers taken from Ciarán’s view, rightfully so, the vampire simply lifted his gaze to meet what he would call a cold glare from the other. It never had been easy for the younger vampire to swallow what little pride he had to come to the Blackwells, especially this one, but after a moment of silence Ciarán leaned his frame forward, forearms coming to rest against the desk as a pensive expression contorted his features. “I—…well, I…” He couldn’t say it. The simple words that would admit to Ciarán being seemingly helpless without Noah of all people, God it would have made the blood running through his veins boil if the whole undead thing wasn’t a factor.

“I really just came to stop by, see how things were here…numbers look good for you. I suppose,” he noted with a nod towards where the file had been placed, away from his prying eyes. The words, I need a favor clearly weren’t about to be heard today, not by Noah and certainly not from Ciarán. “Chair is a bit…hard, but if comfort isn’t a priority…comfort of living as you’re supposed to as a vampire.” So the bitterness from their past remained and was likely to be brought up again at an inopportune moment.  Which apparently was now as he found himself unable to keep the words from passing his lips, “Kill anyone lately and punish yourself for it?”

It seemed perhaps the reasoning for Ciarán’s visit was less to be obviously irritating and actually for a deeper purpose, though what that was seemed to be unlikely to come out any time soon. Noah had never known the vampire to be nervous, but with the way he stumbled over his words made him raise an eyebrow. Call him interested...for now.

His arms folded across his chest, head tipping to the side as Ciarán babbled on about how good Blackwell Media’s numbers looked after perusing the pages his eyes should never have been on then onward to comment on the chair of all things. “Spit it out, Ciarán,” Noah finally grumbled, wishing to cut him off from the continued commentary, though unfortunately it wasn’t soon enough to stop his final comment from coming out. 

Noah leaned his knuckles against the top of the desk, closing the distance between the pair of them. “Are you here for any actual purpose? Because if not, I’d recommend you get out of my office.” 

“Worse how?” he asked, curious. Nate very rarely spoke to Noah Blackwell, often preferring just to avoid the man’s company if he could help it. The Clave business put a hitch in that, but frankly, he knew it was something they all had to work together on. The more they stuck together on this, the better chance they had at actually getting something done.

“I think we’d ruffle feathers no matter how we chose to go about it,” he told Noah honestly, thinking on the question. While he was ready to do something with those captured, he knew people would have an opinion one way or the other about how it should be handled. They were bound to piss someone off no matter what they did.

“Legally, I think it’s the right approach. The Clave will continue to find reason to attack us whether we put their people on trial or not. The townsfolk will find fault in what we do, trial or not.” Nate trailed off, shrugged as he tried to find an answer. It wasn’t as if either of them hadn’t slaughtered people on the spot when they were on the battlefield, but times were different. They couldn’t just kill them while they slept. That felt too much like something the Clave themselves would try. “It might send out a message, at least, that we aren’t sitting idly by while they continue to terrorize everyone. We’re going to protect our people the best we can, and anyone who hurts us will face the consequences.”

“In ways we have yet to think of,” Noah muttered, for lack of a better response. Truth be told he wasn’t sure how it could make it worse for them, but he was sure there were ways. Perhaps the Clave would lash out at them again to prove their point in return. But unfortunately Nate did make a good point. No matter what they did, feathers were sure to be ruffled. The town would want answers and justice for what had occurred. The Clave would probably attempt to counter them no matter what they tried to do now. Perhaps there simply wasn’t a right answer in wars such as these. 

He rubbed his hands together as he listened to Nate’s opinions, feeling a little strange to be agreeing with him. But when werewolves and vampires had to put their differences aside to fight a bigger enemy...Well. Noah didn’t know what to think anymore. He never cared that much for the war between vampire and werewolf, but he didn’t particularly like being on the same side, either. 

“I suppose we don’t have another option.” 

“No… it wasn’t,” he replied, frowning deeply at both of instances in front of him.  With a sigh he picked up the glass box and brought it to his lips, tipping it back and taking a long draught of the blood.  There was no use wasting that and it might make his thoughts a little clearer.  Then he was peering over the mug and watching the floating petals, brown but already less crisp and more soggy.  “How bad do you think it’s going to be?  Worthy trying?  Could I pick them out do you think?”

“You never know.” Noah’s thumb traced over the edge of his coffee cup before he took another sip, watching Lachlan consider his strange concoction over the rim. “Perhaps this is one of the great waves of the future, a new finding that everyone will get into - like pumpkin spice lattes or whatever it is these days.” He doubted it. “But perhaps living flowers might add a better texture.” 

Son of a bitch, he was sure that was gonna go in. He groaned and backed away to give Noah room for his turn. “You know, for someone who acts all stiff, you sure do got a mouth on you.” Tobias’ eyebrows rose in play, pointing a feigned look of exasperation at Noah. “I’m warming up. Don’t wanna overwhelm you with my greatness, so I gotta break you in slow.”

Tobias leaned against his putter, huffing into a loud laugh as Noah spouted some technical bullshit. “Do those assholes even know what they’re talking about?” Tobias lined up his shot after Noah had finished. He put on a serious face and used his best pretentious British accent. “Pierce lines up his shot. If the wind catches it just right, his ball will be well in the breeze, and on it’s way to the glory hole.” Tobias tapped the ball, waiting with not-so-bated breath as it sunk into it’s destination. “Look at that beautiful shot, Phil. He stuck it right where he wanted. An amazing play by our most esteemed and gorgeous player.”

“Hundreds of years of life you learn censorship isn’t worth it,” Noah murmured as he lined up his shot. He took his shot and sighed a bit at how his ‘technical jargon’ clearly didn’t reap many rewards. “Evidently not, man.” 

He bounced his putter aimlessly against his boot as Tobias lined up his next shot. It had been a while since he’d been able to do something as simple as play a pointless game of putt putt. Though of course, there was always something else lingering in the background. Like the trials of the Clave members, just around the corner. 

He shook off the thought, chuckling at Tobias’ commentary. “Oh - look at you, big man,” Noah patted him on the shoulder before following suit and dropping his own shot in the hole. “I guess I learn from the best.” 

“This is like that saying: If a tree falls in the forest and no one’s around to hear it, did it make a sound? If no one’s around to see your wild side, did it really happen? To which I say: you better fuckin’ believe it.” Tobias didn’t buy that Noah had been all business for over a thousand years. Was it seriously hidden deep down? Sure. Was it nonexistent? Nah. “I wounded you? I never took you for someone who didn’t like the truth.” A grin worked it’s way onto Tobias’ face. See, this was good. This was a start.

When Noah pulled his shirt off, Tobias raised his arms in the air triumphantly. Now they were really gettin’ somewhere. “That was an accomplishment all it’s own,” he said with a bright smile. The men and women of Hollow Grove could thank Tobias for this later. “But I’m hopin’ now that you ain’t confined by clothes, you’ll be able to let loose a little.” They needed something else to try, something else to get Noah in the spirit. “Henna tattoos,” Tobias decided with finality. “We gettin’ some tattoos, and we gettin’ them now.”

Noah rolled his eyes at the concept. Even if he wasn’t always as wound up as he had been lately, that didn’t necessarily mean the alternative was a crazy wild side. After closing himself off to his emotions centuries ago, he’d told himself he’d do better. He wouldn’t lose control. Perhaps he harbored some fear when it came to letting loose - perhaps he worried about losing himself again. Even after all this time.

“Oh relax,” Noah scoffed, balling his shirt in his hands, though a subtle smile was turning one corner of his lips. “Is that how it works? All this time it was because clothes were keeping me wrapped up?” He shook his head, tossing the garment at the other vampire, combing a hand through his hair. 

“Alright, alright,” he waved a hand, “lead the way, oh wise one.” 

@noah-blackwell

It had been a slower, if interesting start to the day for Lachlan.  He had arrived at work with a vivarium in his hands and a tortoise in his pocket after adopting it from Monster Jam.  He had set it up on top of a low standing bookshelf that had held a makeshift vase and some very dead flowers in it and he had place his new friend in it before getting to work.  Nearing lunchtime he decided it was definitely time for a coffee and a blood bag and headed for the lunch room, taking the almost disintegrating flowers along with him.  The problem Lachlan possessed was the fact that these days his brain didn’t work very well with multitasking.  So as he stood at the sink with a rinsed out square glass box he managed to pour his blood lunch into there while dropping the deceased flowers into his coffee.  All for the fellow vampire to witness.  “Oh… shit.” 

To be honest at this point, Noah didn’t find anything particularly surprising about Lachlan’s behaviors. Good for him to existing to his own beat - or whatever that phrase was - but the last time he’d checked, dead flowers weren’t exactly an additive to coffee. Noah let his shoulder press up against the door frame, his own coffee mug rising to his lips without a word in response when Lachlan noticed his presence. 

“I take it that wasn’t what you were going for,” he finally remarked, tapping his thumb thoughtfully against the side of his mug and raising an eyebrow curiously. A light smile grew on his lips. “I mean, I’m all for trying new things, but I’m not so sure about this one...” 

Send me ☞ for a starter of my character giving your character instructions[ @tobiaspierce ]

Noah eyed the back of the other vampire, observing as he lined up his stance and took a putt that slid way wide of the hole. Leaning against his putter he raised an eyebrow at Tobias, tossing his golf ball up in the air briefly before tossing it down to the starting pad. “You own this arcade and you call that a putt?” 

A light smirk played on his lips before he set up the shot. “You’ve got to read the breaks, see where gravity will take it,” he commented before taking his shot - which, granted, wasn’t all that much better. “Well, at least that’s what all the golfers seem to always say, fuck if I know.” 

Send me 🔮 for a starter of my character making a prediction[ @nathanielxgreyson ]

The only time Noah really associated with Nathaniel Greyson was when they were involved in Founders Council business together. Otherwise, he chose more or less to all but ignore the werewolf Original. They had plenty of history, they’d gone toe to toe on more than one occasion, and they didn’t often see eye to eye. He didn’t waste his time with Greyson business if he could avoid it. 

But the topic of the Clave made ignoring the Greyson’s a little more challenging. The Clave was something they did see, more or less, eye to eye on, and it made him anxious to think about the upcoming trials. Would anything really come of it, or would it only make things that much more difficult? 

“Are the trials the right approach?” Noah blurted out, thinking the one who still lingered in the room was sure to be Maggie and not Nate, but when he turned to acknowledge the other he realized it wasn’t so. “What if it only makes things worse?” He added after a minute, deciding since he’d already started up the conversation it wasn’t going to hurt to continue it. After all, it wasn’t like they had anything to brawl about at this particular moment. 

Send me 📃for a starter of your character reading something they shouldn’t [ @ciaranbrennan ]

Noah maintained his position at Blackwell Media more for something to do and keep his mind preoccupied than any real need to do it. Sure, someone had to keep an eye on the finances and ins and outs of the company, but it wasn’t as if they kept it clean at all times. There was plenty of money that went in and out of the company that didn’t necessarily belong there. But when you’ve been around for over one thousand years, money was just a nuisance.

Still, another set of eyes on the fiances wasn’t exactly ideal, so when he walked into his office to find Ciarán making himself comfortable behind the desk with pages of statements splayed out in front of him, Noah scowled. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”  He spoke, leaning across the desk and sliding the pages back into a folder and out of sight.

“Yes, your wild side.” In his experience, everyone had one. Even the grumpiest, quietest, or stiffest person he could find. Or in Noah’s case, someone who could be all three. Now, for as long as he’d known Noah, he could not remember a time when he’d ever seen this rare unicorn of a side. But he intended to find that shit if it was the last thing he did. “Nothing…nothing that needs to be made over?!” Tobias made a show of looking Noah up and down this time. Had this man never had a makeover in his one thousand years of living? “I love you, brother, but you need help.” Tobias crossed his arms. He knew exactly where to start. “Now, you be nice to all these people here and take your shirt off. Just rip the fucker off like you’re ‘bout to go Hulk on everyone.”

“It baffles me that you and Jos and Maggie all believe I have this quote unquote ‘wild side’ type persona that no one has seen in centuries. I would be highly impressed if you manage to draw such a thing out.” As Tobias went on Noah could not help but let his eyes roll a bit, a hand pressing to his chest in false dramatics. “You wound me, Tobias. I need help? I’m not sure I can trust your opinion when you’re giving such wild statements.” 

Noah’s fingers combed dark strands of hair from his face, an eyebrow hooking upwards. He had the sense that if he didn’t oblige Tobias to some extent he’d probably pay for it one way or another, so after a minute or two of contemplation he pulled the garment over his head, not quite in a Hulk like fashion as requested, but presumably better than nothing. “I’m not clear on what you’re hoping to accomplish.” 

“I do work there. If you visit it would give me something to look forward to when i’m sitting there watching everyone else drink and read when I can’t.” she replied, sighing slightly. “But ya know, as long as i’m not being snapped at, it’s not a terrible job. And it is a very nice environment.” she chuckled softly. 

“It’s not all about work.” Rosabelle countered as they moved away from that crowd. “I’m here. And i’m quite good at doing this.” she began, smiling as she brought her cup to her lips for a sip, indicating that she meant drinking. “But I suppose having a new hobby couldn’t hurt. Do you have many?” she questioned. She liked to play the piano, had once dreamed of being a pianist. But that was a dream from another life. “That’s the issue. I don’t even know what I like to do. I went to college and focused on creating potions and spells from scratch but, it just doesn’t seem practical now.” she explained.

Rosa let out a sigh, looking around. “It’s too loud.” she murmured. “Feel like…escaping for a bit?”

“Now how could you possibly be snapped at in a library? You will just have to enforce the ‘no talking’ rule if that occurs again. Gesture at the sign and put a finger to your lips. I’m sure that would go over quite well.” A shadow of a smile crossed his lips before it disappeared behind his drink. He couldn’t imagine that were that many in Hollow Grove that would become frustrated at a library; it seemed more like an elderly sort of nature. Though, then again, it depended on one’s definition of ‘elderly.’ 

“You’re here and doing this, that...is true,” He agreed with a nod, glancing back towards the crowds of people swaying and screaming to the music blasting not that far away. Noah knew that his siblings enjoyed Monster Jam, but he had never been that interested in it. He had long since outgrown the days where he wanted to stand in crowds getting beer sloshed down his back and hearing ringing in his ears for days after.

“What?” His attention returned to her once more and he shrugged, “Sure. I like to keep busy. Why isn’t that practical?” At the mention of escaping from the noise his eyes skirted back towards the stage. “Gladly.” 

“My family. My brother and sisters, they mean everything to me.” 

“Yes, of course. More often than you’d probably think.” 

Harlow glanced over as the original vampire walked towards her, feeling oddly at ease with it being Noah who found her out here. He frequented the Observatory, so he wasn’t someone she’d have to walk through getting to Perseus, hopefully. Either way, he was someone who she felt respect for. She let a small huff of a laugh leave her lips at his words, eyes turning back to the sky as she took in the vast view. “Yes, it is.” She tilted her head. “Constellation Perseus, if you’re curious. That’s where you’ll find the Demon Star.”

Noah studied the blanket of stars above their heads, searching the skies for the familiar constellation she had mentioned. He had always been rather fond of the stars above; they were something that kept fairly constant over the years, something he could trust to always return to the sky at night. Yes, with time stars would burn out and new ones born, but it was a comfort to know that the constellations were still there time and again - at least for now. 

“Thank you,” He stated simply, needing no further prompting to search the skies. “I’m sure you could have seen it just as well from your observatory, though. What made you seek the beach tonight?”