Purpose & Balance

The reason why Imogen didn't have a care in the world - most days - was because Peaches was well behaved, commands were general knowledge to her so it amazed her when the mutt suddenly took off, and as much as Imogen's flight or fight response should have been to chase after her, she also didn't want to leave her bag of belongings behind on the seat either.

Thankfully the girl was some what athletic and was able to catch up to her, but there was a split second where she observed a odd behavior or two between the other and her dog; "Did she bark at you? I am so sorry" usually apologies didn't come easy to her but at the same Imogen wasn't a dick, when a apology was needed, it was provided;

"I thought I trained her to be well behaved around those she wasn't aware of but clearly we need to go back to square one" catching up on her breath as the blonde interacted with the other;

"I'm Imogen by the way and this is Peaches, and usually she is friendly but I don't know-... she just took off on me I really am sorry."

The 'bark' (if you could call the noise the little thing had made a bark) was more of an enthused attention grabber than something vicious. Because while dogs might be dumb (in Douglas' general opinion)... Generally they weren't wholly suicidal.

But as ever, Douglas is gracious when she apologises.

"Thank you, but -- It's fine, really, see? She's fine. I'm fine. No harm, no foul."

Peaches suddenly the epitome of 'well behaved' sitting happily getting her ear scritched. Which Doug obliges for just a moment before straightening and standing up... because right now he's pretty much bent double to reach the dog.

"Douglas."

He responds by way of simple introduction, looking at the slightly breathless woman--

--looking, breathing, listening... and above the scent of french bulldog (Peaches now looking curiously and expectantly at Doug as if waiting for his next direction), he doesn't detect the stale odour of death that clung to the undead... No matter the amount of expensive perfume or cologne they wore. And he can see the light pulse of a vein in her neck with quickened heart. He doesn't taste the strange fizz or odd ozone of 'other' on his tongue that sometimes is present when heavy magics are lingering... So... Human then? Maybe...--

--though he knows that others might be less gracious. And that Peaches could be a tasty midnight snack attack for more than a few of the residents in Holloway if she decided to run up to the wrong person at the wrong time.

Dumb dog.

"Yeah, look. I don't know if you know but we've had some animal attacks around the town."

Animal attacks. Mhm.

"So you might want to make sure she doesn't run off anywhere else. Just in case."

A caution veiled in unsolicited advice. Hopefully if the woman was being cautious about her dog, then she'd be cautious about herself too.

Status: Open to all

Tagging: @hollowstarters

It had been a busy week for Imogen, especially with the event just ending and phone calls happening between her ex and herself to get this divorced settled; though she knew it would be a bit before anything was fully resolved. What she sought after first and foremost more then anything was a distraction, something to take her mind off of things which is why the park seemed like the perfect place to just close her eyes and zen out, her french bull dog Peaches in tow, she was pretty much her best friend at this point "I think she likes you"gesturing to the fact that Peaches was currently jumping up and requesting attention from the other

Usually dogs tend to give him a wide berth.  At least, the ones who catch either his scent or his eye.  This one though... Is apparently dumb (well, it’s a dog, not a wolf - so dumb).  Or... Eager.  Or thinks they’re a LOT bigger than they are.

So he carefully puts down the large wrench in his hand (currently being used to tighten the bolts on the back of one of the park benches because they kept coming loose and someone was going to fall through the wood... or stake themselves... either way), turning to tower above the miniscule yet enthusiastic canine.

It’s yapping gleefully and wiggling and far too stupidly happy (in a way that all dogs seemed to be).  So he catches it’s eye and - 'hrrumph' - a deep noise from his chest.  To a human, it would simply sound as though he’s clearing his throat.

Peaches however, immediately stops jumping.  Slams her little butt on the ground and sits - perfectly obediently - head tilted to one side as though listening intently.

Douglas reaches down and scritches it behind one ear.

“Uh, hi. Yeah.  She’s, um... Friendly.”

"Maybe i already am that man." He replied simply, tossing his hands into his pockets. "But i can't live life afraid of what we are... and i have to live some sort of life. And you can pretend you don't need that too... but you do. One day you'll see that Doug." He nodded, looking towards the house. "I'll check in in the morning. You know where I am if you change your mind."

...Honestly. Doug doesn't know how to be any other way. It's just an overbearing over-protectiveness that manifests as... Well - this...

...And the only thing he can do is just... Be there. Whether things go right or wrong. To celebrate and be proud. Or to pick up those broken pieces and try to glue them back together in the best way he can.

"I do."

He just offers a clipped response in consolation. Because if he says any more then this whole thing will just blow up in his face.

He's about to say - be careful. He's about to say - stay safe.

He doesn't. There's another of those deep grunts, and he's turning and leaving Declan to his night of 'normal human fun'.

"Run. Yeah, good advice. Run," he repeated, a small nod of his head. He'd done just that and cut his leg but at least he was alive. "Maybe I will, maybe I'll mentally roll a dice. See if my number is high enough to trick them. Hmm, no I think mine would be more... is vampires and garlic bullshit?"

Douglas vaguely knows that that's something of a big-bad fail. And he wouldn't like the guy to get himself in with any kind of 'big-bad'... Wolf or otherwise.

"Really? You get a genuine one to one with a ghost... You might want to think about the bigger picture... Rather than questioning fictional tropes..."

He shrugs. Again, not wanting to put a dampner on the guys evening... Also not wanting to lead what was obviously a wild imagination down a track that could put him in very real danger.

"Either way - I hope you find what you're looking for in there. Or at least, enjoy the evening."

It could only last so long, of course. Interactions in this sort of atmosphere were natural, they would come up. He should not have been that surprised, once he had found a a spot to stand and people-watch a bit more. " No. " A beat. He didn't quite know if that was a proper answer, so he continued. " Just here to see what all the fuss is about. " It was a lot of younger kids, teenagers and young adults, all seemingly having a fun time. This was as good an excuse as any, he supposed. " You ? " he asked then, glancing over, finding the gentleman. " Here to see if all the rumors about this place are true ? " There was just the slightest, just a touch of humor in his tone, though his features and body language said otherwise.

The answer is flat and direct and straight to the point and... It's actually something Douglas appreciates. Perhaps he's not he only one in the crowd oozing skepticism at the whole affair. It's not as though he doesn't believe in spirits or ghosts or whatever else they might want to call themselves. Maybe they exist. Maybe they don't... (Because a hell of a lot of things existed that really weren't supposed to, things from stories and fables and fairy tales... Himself included).

"Also, no."

Douglas does actually crack the faintest of smiles and shakes his head.

"Mostly just making sure that no one gets too carried away. When you have a lot of usually smart people in one place with booze on tap, you can end up with a ton of stupid."

But that's just people in general. Hype them up enough and you have a frenzy... Booze or no booze. Which can lead to a lot of bad shit.... Panic. Violence. Who the hell knew what mood the night ahead might take.

"I wouldn't be surprised if they do find a bad tempered spirit though -- I know if this many people showed up uninvited and started having a party on my front lawn, I'd be pretty pissed too."

Declan was a romantic and continuously seemed to fall in love with someone. Even if it lasted five minutes. But he refused to let the world harden him. He wore his heart on his sleeve; he was who he was and if he ended up in trouble one day because of that. At least he'd lived a life. But he wasn't going to say that to Douglas.

Dec quips about the full moon and at that moment Doug nearly proves his point because the younger Sharpe was winding him up. Giving a flippant come back or excuse to everything Doug said. It's annoying. Frustrating.

"There doesn't need to be. Does there?"

Full moon was a given, but it's not as though they don't have the capacity to turn on any other day - should the circumstances present themselves.

And when he's invited into the house, Doug just shakes his head, lets out a sigh... Gives Declan a look up and down and there's no way he can hide the -- disappointment -- on his face. Maybe they looked human on a day to day basis... But the fact that they could turn on a fucking whim meant that people could get hurt... Or worse. Or that they could end up on the wrong end of a hunters rifle.

"Take some goddamn responsibility. And stop playing at 'human'. Don't be that guy, Dec... Just... Don't."

"Honestly, when it comes to coffee and Lavender Haze... We could do better, if we wanted to", she shrugged at his coffee but found herself nodding at his next words. Maryam liked this beverage that most mortals were almost addicted to, a lot. She saw why so many of them could not start the day without. It made her alert, made her awake, but it was still only a shadow of what magic had been able to do for her at the court. And it was such a stark contrast to how mortals tried so hard to dull their senses again with every next step they took on a regular day. They needed constant sound and colours, yet enslaved themselves in the grey of their daily life, forgetting to look up towards the stars.

She shook her head slightly, chasing away those thoughts and returning to the conversation at hand. "Sorry, I got lost up here for a moment", Maryam pointed to her head and gave him a warm - very apologetic - smile, "It has been a confusing few weeks here. But yes, I work at the Haze. But I am still fairly new to Holloway. I arrived just in time to see all that monster in the woods stuff." She took a sip from her coffee, "Sorry, I do not mean to joke, I know that was quite serious and people were lost. It was just... also very weird, for someone coming in from the outside. You don't have that every day. And - I better stop talking now."

Her cheeks turned a shade darker and she hoped he would take it as her being flustered. In truth her tongue had ran off as she played for time. Her eyes had found Silas at the other end of the garden and she could not help but follow his steps - already looking forward to the conversation they would have that night.

"Your brother?", Maryam's head snapped back to the man and his words hit her so unexpected she could not stop the shadow from passing over her features, the grief from sneaking into her eyes. She bit her lip as she listened to him, fighting for control again. The one thing that made her weak, the one thing that destroyed the mask she had built over centuries. "I had a brother, too, you know. I hope yours is aware of how lucky he is to have you, looking out for him like this. Not everyone would do that. And it is a good thing to have, a big brother."

He's trying to be a little light hearted at least. It's not easy though when the hairs on the back of his neck have been prickling all night. Strange smells and new people. It all just intermingled to spell 'trouble'. And while Douglas might not be a psychic or a mystic, he doesn't need to be able to gaze into the future to see that nothing particularly - good - might come of the evening. The best he can hope for is that it's all a dud and the worst that might happen are a few drunk teens puking in a nearby bush and nursing a hangover come sunrise.

At her next words, Doug glanced down at his cup. It's just - coffee. He's never been any kind of particular connoisseur. Yes - his senses are sharp enough to discern a decent cup from a mug of puddle water - and the coffee from the Haze was a decided improvement over stuff he tended to keep at the repair shop.

"Yeah?"

Looking back up, one brow arches in question - and this time there is a small smile on his face - genuine amusement at her comment.

"You don't often hear someone talking down their own product. But maybe talking it down with a view to improve is just a good marketing strategy."

The smile does falter slightly at the flush and the apology. Another stark reminder of why Doug is actually - here. Because yes - weird wasn't quite the word for it. Weird would be nice. Something a little strange. A little puzzling. A little mysterious. But this weird had teeth and claws and had caused some serious harm.

"Trust me, it's no picnic for the people who've been here all their lives either."

Chweing on the side of his mouth for a moment in thought Dougl does offer one more comment on the... situation...

"This is unsolicited advice - and it probably goes without saying, so feel free to take it or leave it, but... You should be careful. Even here, with plenty of people around. I don't know if the 'weird' is over... So, please... just... yeah... uh... Now I'm the one who should probably shut up."

There's something of a quick headshake and a huff from the elder Sharpe as she questions his reason for being here...

"Yeah - Dec... Declan. The most amazingly smart and genuine kid you could want to meet who's also somehow still capable of absolute stupidity - sometimes at the same time."

Kid. It's not as though Dec was still running around in diapers. He's a man within his own right. But to Doug he'll always be 'little brother'. No matter how old or how accomplished.

"I just hope that the 'smart' wins out over the 'stupid' tonight."

He's about to laugh again, but the light shifts and he can see that her expression has changed. It's stark and sharp and... if he was any kind of poet, Douglas might have described the look on her face as 'haunted'.

---I had a brother, too

HAD. Oh... It's like a gut punch. Because that one word screams out at him, over and above everything else she says. It's like a gong went off in his brain. A sudden swarm of bees stinging every nerve in his body... It's Dougs worst fear being lived through someone else. He can't imagine... Just... Can't...

He really should have listened to himself when he said he should shut up.

"Oh, shit... I... I'm sorry."

Maybe the capacity to be astoundingly stupid runs in the damn family - because it sure as hell felt that way right now. What does he even say. Does he ask how? Or when? Or... No... Not his business. If she wanted to volunteer more - that was her story to tell. Not his to ask for.

"Yeah, yeah. That's the guy. Hank McCoy," he replied. "Tall blue eyed guy in the movies."

"Yeah, like roleplaying essentially. It's telling a story with friends, getting into role. I hold it at the comic store," he told him. "In reality? Freeze or run. In a game, use my perception to try and figure out what they want. And in a fiction world, I can use spells to talk to any creature."

"When it comes to non fiction - run... Running is always a good option."

He'd like to say there's no such thing as magic. But there is. That there are no such things as creatures. But there are.

And the best advice he can give to anyone is exactly that - run... Run as far ans as fast as you can...

"Unless you Do come across a spook in there. Then maybe you'll be perceptive enough to talk to them... Get a glimpse of the great beyond. Ask them if dogs go to heaven... it's always been one of the big questions, huh?"

Dec knew it was his own clumsiness and sometimes sheer stupidity that landed him in trouble. But he knew his brother cared and just wished he wouldn't do that. Truth be told, Dec wished that too. But he was like a moth to a flame. "Sure... why not?" He sighed. "Half the council are in there, I doubt anything will be allowed to happen." He tried to convince his elder brother.

"Or... it is a good idea. You know, show some camaraderie with the rest of town. Maybe it's exactly what we need to do." He patted Doug on the shoulder. He glanced down, accepting the pretzel with ease and leaning down to take a bite.

"I have friends." He answered defensively, his shoulders tensing up. "My throat maybe you just make me way more nervous then the ghosts do." he laughed gently. "Fine, guess i should be used to there being no secrets in this family. I was hoping to run into a girl... you know... like a normal man."

He lowers his voice, keeps it loud enough that only Declan has a chance of hearing him. Sure, the council 'jumped to' as soon as they were aware of something going on. But not fast enough to save everyone...

"You aren't a 'normal man'."

However much Declan might wish for that life. That mundane human existence with friends and girlfriends and... normality. It would never happen. Not for him. And Douglas sometimes wishes it were possible. To just give his brother that peace away from their 'inheritance'...

...And he's sure Declan doesn't need reminding of the fact, but he does it anyway. A heavy heart sinking with the words. Knowing that it was probably an unneeded gut punch to the younger wolf. A bucket of ice cold water on his enthusiasm for the evening.

Shit. Douglas hates being this to Dec. But sometimes he has to be.

"You can't forget that. Not for one minute."

Because one slip. One emotion too strong and strung out in the wrong direction and it was all over (especially with that stupidly eager puppy face of Dec's, chasing girls was bound to be an emotional roller coaster). A shift in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong people and he'd be -- h u n t e d. And maybe that's what Doug feared most.

There's a low 'hrrm' sound from the back of Dougs throat. Deep and rumbling. Half growl, half shaking himself out of the deep mire of those thoughts.

He pressed his lips together for a moment, he'd been asking himself questions like that lately. "I play DnD, so I guess, I know some stuff about magic, creatures... stuff."

Alex nodded. "I've been reading, writing, drawing my whole life. I can't remember not. Comic? I'm an X-Men fan."

"Doesn't really matter if I believe or not. If they exist then my belief in them or otherwise won't really make a difference."

He's pretty sure that most people don't believe in werewolves either. But here he is. The monster from the stories. The villain from the movies.

"I like Beast... The big blue guy. Hank, right?"

He does take issue with 'wolverine' though. As most people tend to get it wrong and think he's based on a 'wolf'... Wolverines aren't wolves... They're weasels. Not that Doug has any particular interest in delving into the fictional lore behind the name.

"Dnd... Oh. Dungeons and dragons... Yeah, I've heard of it. So... Come on then - enlighten me - what do you know about the supernatural. Lets say - hypothetically - you do encounter something in there... A creature or a ghost - what would you do?"

Alex looked up with a nod in response to his question. "Yeah, I own the comic store. That's me." He paused. Not too long ago, he would've said exactly that. He loved fiction, stories, comics. Now he wasn't so sure. "Hmm, yeah. Like stories and stuff. I love supernatural, magic, all that kind of... world."

"Technically - yes."

"But this is as far as I'll be going. Better to leave the spots inside for those who will enjoy it."

And maybe better to have someone on the outside keeping an eye on things.

There's a small 'hmm' from Doug at the notion of 'enjoying' the supernatural. It was way less romance and excitement and adventure than the books and comics and movies tended to make out - and a lot more violence and fear and blood... And usually... There was a 'Big Bad Wolf' somewhere. Which was bullshit.

"I guess it will all depend on what my boss has planned for our booth. Lavender Haze is of course here, ready to help the brave people of this town stay awake long enough for all of it." She lifted her own cup of coffee towards him, offering to clink glasses with his. Of course she had thrown in a bit of her special sprinkles into her own beverage, Beifuß for protection - one could never know - and a bit of Baldrian to dull her own magic aura. The coffee was strong enough to hide the smell of the herbs but someone with heightened senses would easily be able to pick it up.

That thought drew her attention away from the conversation for only a heartbeat as she scanned the gardens around them, last light of the day filtering in and all, to see if she could spot Silas somewhere. She was curious what the other fae would do here.

"And you? Ready to leave any moment or will you be here for whatever is about to happen?"

As if to prove his point in a rather timely manner - a troop of older teens wander by - loud and raucous. And more than a little drunk. Probably having gotten their hands on some of the alcohol by means of a fake ID - or tailgated a keg before they even arrived.

"Not my idea of fun."

"Y'know what. Don't listen to me. If you're going in I hope you enjoy it..."

"Oh... Yeah, it's good coffee."

Douglas' glass was still mostly full. It was more of a prop than anything else. Something to do with his hands. To make it at least look as though he was participating, even if it were just in the pre-event.

As she raises her glass, he lifts his own. A soft 'ching' sound as they touch momentarily. And he does get the hint of a light, herbal scent. Something different from his own drink. But, Doug is not au-fait with what he can smell. And to be honest, other than a cappuccino or an espresso, he's not wholly up to speed on the whole - Iced, Half Caff, Ristretto, Venti, 4-Pump, Sugar Free, Cinnamon, Dolce Soy Skinny Latte. He tends to just ask for a 'large coffee'.

"You work at the Haze? Or are you just helping out for the event? Don't think I've seen you in there before."

Though he hasn't ventured in for a while... He's been rather too - preoccupied.

Ah... Ready to leave? No... Not really. After the recent attacks he's not sure anywhere in town is safe. Granted, the cause of those attacks had been found and taken care of... But Doug is not entirely convinced that the risk had been eradicated. Every passing hour seemed to loom with promise of a new threat...

...Of course, that could be pure paranoia. But given his family - his pack - were here, he can't seem to shake the lingering dread that had settled in the pit of his stomach.

Though it's not so easy to explain why he'd still be hanging around without sounding like a weirdo.

"My little brother is up for the frat party vibe. He's here, somewhere. Just thought I'd hang around for a bit to make sure things don't get too out of hand."

He was still outside, taking a breath when he realised someone had spoken to him. He turned his head, offering his usual upbeat smile. "I haven't quite decided yet. I'm thinking about it. I'm debating if it is the best idea in the world. What about you?"

Which rather does bring up the question of why he's here at all. Not something he has a tangible or sensible reply to. Just a gut feeling maybe?

"There's something about a spectacle. Though this is more like rubber necking at a car crash. With free booze and snacks."

Douglas offers a small shrug. He doesn't exactly want to dampen the guys enthusiasm. Then again, he's not about to encourage anyone to go inside either.

"You work in town, right? At the comic place?"

"I guess I see this whole thing a bit like a comic... Spirits? Spooky goings on? Fun if you want to indulge but still -- Fiction."

Declan paused, wondering if he was talking to someone else or perhaps just hadn’t noticed it was his younger brother. He coughed, his voice coming out deep and rougher, clearly put on to fight through his nerves. “Oh! Just… you know.” He shrugged. “Hopefully hanging out with some friends.” He threw his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “Are you joining us brother? Have some drinks… maybe let your hair down for once.”

That doesn't mean Doug wouldn't like to duct tape him to a wall for his own safety.

There's just a slow blink at the younger Sharpe at the notion of 'letting his hair down'. A blink which quite clearly communicated -- --No. No - there was absolutely no chance of that happening. At. All.

"So, you are going in there then?"

Doug can't exactly stop him (though the duct tape was starting to look like a better idea right now)... It doesn't mean he has to be happy about it.

"Look you know what kinda shit has been happening around here. You really think it's a good idea to lock yourself in a house with... Who the hell knows what?"

It's just a good time. Just a town event Just an innocent night of fun... So... Why doesn't he believe that?

There's something of a sigh as he looks at the pretzel in his hand and he passes it to Declan. A peace offering of sorts.

"What friends?"

He's not questioning whether Declan has friends. Rather who his brother's company would be for the evening (and... whether he approved or not).