blearied

Given that everyone who was missing something or someone had also been graced with some odd riddle in place of what was missing. He imagined they should have been discovering what the riddles would reveal, together. But everyone rushed out the doors and into the surrounding areas. Rushing to save people without much idea where to look. Staring up at the sky, he frowned a bit. Picking up the same stick he had aimlessly been swinging back and forth that morning, he jabbed at the ground and other trees lightly.

Hearing his name as he walked, looking for any more clues, and did this, he glanced back to find Marlowe ahead of him. She looked in a state as if any other person affected by this incident could be. Already practiced in hiding his own problems. His expressionless face met Marlowe's in a friendly greeting, a polite enough smile, a look of concern, “Marlowe- Oh, well. “ He blinked, thinking for a moment, glancing around, “I think this is the Eastern forest. If so, that's where I'm meant to be. Unless I wandered too far. I don't know.” He let out a breath, then looked back at the other.

“Everyone seemed to be in a hurry when getting out to look, I realize. I haven't found anything, though. Probably won't. But, at least we are trying?” Yawning a little, he glanced to one side, continuing, “Hopefully the rest of my group is having a lot better luck than me, though. All I've been seeing the last several hours is trees, trees, and more trees.”

the rest of his sentiments strike a chord with her. at least she isn't the only one wondering if they're wasting their time out here and not finding a damn thing. ❝ i'm not even sure what we're looking for. it's not like the person that took our people and our things are going to have a trail of breadcrumbs out here leading to a giant cave or something. ❞ she's been alone for too much of the day, so maybe someone else has found something... but she's not sure what a clue out here would possibly look like.

❝ i mean, what's the point of the riddles? i haven't figured mine out but i can't find a theme to the ones i've overheard. ❞ all of her guesses didn't really point to anything concrete which left her again at a dead end. not only is her brother's quilt made by her grandmother out of his baby clothes and bibs on the line, but so is her cousin and rowan. if valentine and her family don't have any answers and rowan's not managed to fight his way out of the grasp of whatever did this, it's likely that a whole town doesn't even stand a chance to figure it out.

and she's been trying to keep those thoughts at bay and hold onto hope all day, but she can only fool herself for so long. the flashbacks to searching for her brother like this aren't helping either. more people are missing and there's creepy little clues, but it appears the outcome is the same so far. ❝ i just don't understand how someone could have been in my apartment and caused a mess last night without me waking up. and my deadbolt was still locked. ❞

When he spotted Marlowe through the trees, his first instinct was to tense - another figure moving alone, another reminder of how fragile everyone was out here. Then he recognised her and slowed, letting out a breath.

Her offer of cookies was so normal, so wildly mundane against the backdrop of their nightmare, that it almost startled a laugh out of him. Almost. His mouth twitched, but it didn’t quite reach a smile.

“Cookies, huh?” His voice was rough from hours of shouting Jules’ name, but there was a thread of warmth in it. “Guess there’s worse things to fight over in a forest.” He took the tin carefully, mindful of the shaking in his hands. “Thanks, Marlowe. The group will appreciate these.” A pause, softer now. “So will I. If you need water or a sandwich, I also brought some of that. They're... somewhere,” he said, sighing, unsure of where they had gone and not really caring.

a meager smile meets his thanks. ❝ i'm glad you don't find it distasteful. i know everyone handles this differently. thought cookies at least couldn't hurt morale. ❞ a quick, irresponsible dopamine hit may seem more worthwhile than a handful of trail mix to people that are searching for the lost people and objects. she's going to need it. the walk into the forest is a stark reminder of the early days of her brother's disappearance. of course, the search efforts weren't nearly this big. the police were already pushing the narrative that he was off on his own and people were going to keep going about their own lives when the missing wasn't dear to them. that's not to say that plenty didn't turn out to help her and her mom, today's just left her with a surreal feeling remembering it all.

but she refuses to let it be a sense of deja-vu. rowan, her cousin, and the rest of the missing were going to be found today. someone couldn't simply take them all away in the same night without a trace other than the crudely left riddles. ❝ sorry you're out here, by the way. ❞ the roughness in the voice indicates that he's missing someone and she doesn't want to rub salt in a fresh wound by asking him about it.

❝ i know i shouldn't be. trust me. i'll be with my group the rest of the day. ❞ and she does know. with what she's learned about a lot of the residents of westray in the past few weeks, it's likely that not everyone in her search party is simply human and she's not sure how she feels about that fact. fear, obviously... but are they all bad? she can't really bring herself to believe that.

that breaks her heart. her hand rests on umi's shoulder as she looks into her eyes to spotlight the sincerity in her oncoming vow. ❝ screw childhood sleepovers anyway. we can have one whenever you want. seriously. ❞ her assumption is that umi hadn't been invited to any, but if that's the case she doesn't want to keep the spotlight on bad memories. she knows better than anyone that the saying time heals all wounds is a crock of shit. ❝ i haven't been doing well since the masquerade... so the company would be more than welcome. ❞ admitting that she's struggling is something that's never come easy to marlowe. she's not sure if it was the fight with valentine at the masquerade or adding everything that she found out about that night to her list of problems that seems to have her on the edge of bubbling over at any given time.

however, that's not something she can talk about with anyone but the hawthornes. she wouldn't break a promise to rowan, but beyond that she doubts most people in town would even believe it. marlowe wouldn't have, had it not been hearing the screams in the dark or seeing her bloodied friend on the grand flooring of the museum shortly followed by being whisked out of there by a bloodied rowan looking almost more than human. ❝ maybe i'll be a pro fisher yet. my dad would be proud. ❞ he'd made an honest living at the trade after all. until his fishing boat mysteriously capsized, leaving behind no survivors.

when she gets to city hall after dropping off bruno and making her mom promise not to leave the house or open the doors for anyone until she gets back, the crowd becomes instantly overwhelming. the tiniest bit of eavesdropping makes it clear that while there are already headlines of rowan missing, he's far from the only one. people that aren't panicking over a missing loved one are whispering about the mysterious riddles left for everyone in unique ways that would almost be poetic if it weren't so grotesque. most people seem to be missing something or someone they are desperate to get back, and marlowe's cosmic joke of an existence is keeping it's losing streak in this instance. not only is her brother's quilt and rowan gone, but her cousin also disappeared from her bed last night according to her near inconsolable delightfully himbo husband.

when she spots natalia across the crowd, marlowe all but bee-lines it across the crowd. narrowly sidestepping a few human obstacles in her way, she places a hand gently on her friend's shoulder. valentine may have told her to stay put, but she couldn't sit in her apartment that had been broken into when she knew rowan was missing. she's always been the type to put on a front when she's struggling, but she's growing tired of every day feeling like a fight to keep pushing on. this morning, at least before she stops by the cafe to get herself a cup of coffee, the misery is written all over marlowe's face. ❝ will you promise me that you'll invite me along to fight whatever evil fairy godmother did this if you find out? ❞

Natalia was tired of having to talk to people she didn't want to. Friends of her father. Scared townspeople. Everyone wanted to wish her condolences for one thing or another and she was tired of it. She just wanted answers. So as soon as the crowd was getting bigger she stuck to the outskirts and kept searching for people she knew. the moment she saw Marlowe she relaxed.

On one hand Nat was happy to see her here but she knew that also most likely meant she lost her fair share of people too. And frankly Nat felt that Marlowe didn't deserve any more tragedy. "Absolutely I will." She had so many questions. Did this mean she knew about the Hawthornes? Was she getting herself involved? Natalia wanted to ask them but knew this wasn't the place where others could overhear. "Did you get a riddle too? Mine was written in fucking blood."

❝ valentine told me about rowan and wanted me to stay home, but i couldn't. someone took something of my brother's from my apartment and i just found out my cousin's missing too when i got here. ❞ she runs her palm up over her forehead toward her hairline then, though the self-soothing gesture does little to qualm any of the feelings raging to bubble over inside of her. when she'd cried on the drive to her mother's, she didn't even know the extent of all that was missing yet. ❝ are you holding up okay... considering? ❞

the woman's usual response to something like this is to awkwardly laugh the awkward moment away, but in this moment marlowe is too scared to do so. she can feel that she's about to tip over the edge and any amount of laughter could quickly turn to sobbing which is something she prefers to do without company. maybe alone in a bath with an entire bottle of wine when rowan and her cousin are found safe and alive, but not now in the middle of the forest. not in front of umi, who is probably as distraught as everyone else out here digging through the forest for clues as to what happened last night. ❝ i'm trying to get back to my search group, but i wasn't paying attention to where i was going. i tripped on that log over there. ❞

her attention then turns to her hands, pushing off the remaining clumps of dirt to see that there is a scrape on one of her palms. she pulls her water bottle out of the side compartment of her backpack to rinse it... that's the best first aid she has to offer herself now and it appears to be kind of shallow. ❝ how are you -- how are you holding up? i'm kind of losing my mind. honestly. ❞ probably not in stable enough condition to be wandering around alone... and certainly not well-versed enough in protecting herself if needed in a town full of the supernatural. she knows the hunters that care about her aren't going to be happy if they find out about it. val didn't even want her out here searching in the first place.

So into the bushes it was, putting all her clothes in her small backpack, then clenching her teeth as she forced her body to shift outside the full moon - something she had learned how to do when she was young, something that never got any less painful. Nonetheless, it was needed. She felt like it was needed.

The wolf had bit down on the backpack and its nose had started frantically sniffing as it ran through the trees of the east forest, almost colliding with one of the party members, but dashing into the denser parts and disappearing, following any threads. Its paws were tudding on the ground as if it was hollow underneath, heavy on the dirt and left over leaves from the previous year, some early fallen new ones. It crunched and made it want to snap its jaw.

It was a sound that called it to this part of the woods, closer to the mountain. It was ready to attack, but Daphne took over to reign it in, dropped the backpack and groaned in pain as her knees hit the ground. Because she had recognised the scent and hadn't wanted to cause trouble, the animal that overtook her consciousness was too wild with her human emotions to be reigned in. As she pulled her shirt over her head and jumped into her pants, barefoot, she approached the man who seemed and felt too anxious, impatient and also tired. "Mr Avery," she called, too buzzed with emotions herself for her mind to even register that it should be ashamed after the way she had acted when she had last seen the man, drunk and slurring, flirting as if she didn't know he was married. "I know I'm supposed to be looking elsewhere, but you almost got me to jump on you and tear your throat. I'm not sure how much chiropractic that would have been." s

her admonishment at least lets him know that she's not actively in danger. an embarrassed smile is quickly replaced by a grimace as he removes the stick from where it's pressed against the back of his neck, the movement flaring a burning sensation in taut muscles. maybe the pain has less to do with aging and more to do with the stress that's been consuming him since it was made clear his wife was missing this morning.

❝ i'm sorry, daphne. i didn't mean to startle you. where's the rest of your search party? they didn't leave you alone, did they? ❞ far more likely that she left to look on her own, but he wants to make sure anyway. he tries to rack his brain to remember what group she'd been placed in... should he be admonishing someone for letting her go off on her own in the first place? ❝ but you're right. the chiropractor won't be able to do much for a torn throat. ❞ their prior meeting is all but forgotten in his mind, though he's rather flattered that he's still got it. in his mind, anyway.

the subject of what they're both looking for is right there, but he doesn't have the mental stability to talk about his wife being gone any further so he's not going to bring it up. his emotional bandwidth is next to nothing. the stick drops from his hand, rustling some of the leaves on the forest floor in its wake as spencer leans his back against the tree behind him. just as he starts to feel a little comfortable, something red hanging in a low, sweeping branch of a tree behind her catches his eye. ❝ what in the hell? ❞ eyebrow cocked as he takes a few steps to reach for it, the confusion only deepens as he unfurls the flag and sees the avery family's symbol embroidered onto it. the last few days have been full of rain, so it's clear that it's been placed here recently. there's not even a speck of dirt on it. ❝ now i know this fucker is just playing with us. ❞ the words are out before he can remember present company (and his avery manners). ❝ sorry, darlin. this is just really starting to get under my skin. ❞

Everything was getting on Maia's nerves. She was getting agitated with everyone and every minor inconvenience she was facing. Her feet were hurting and it certainly wasn't because of the fact that she wore the wrong type of boots to find her missing locket, clearly the fault lied with whoever stole the lock in the first place. After snapping at the fifth person in a row, Maia actually apologized and broke away from her search group to take a few moments to herself. She knew getting angry at everyone wasn't going to help the situation so she tried to breathe and calmed herself down.

After walking away from her group she found a small waterfall that she immediately was drawn to, thinking it was the perfect place to calm herself down. As soon as she saw Spencer again she called out his name and walked towards him. She shrugged slightly. "I'm sorry for you too. I hope you aren't missing too much." Because after all she was beginning to like Spencer and didn't wish any ill will towards him. "Well I'll tell you this the town is definitely unique and interesting. First the masquerade now this? Keeps me on the toes to say the least." She laughed trying to have a good attitude about all of it.

❝ my wife is one of the missing. ❞ the admission is quiet, almost unintentional. this morning he'd avoided the word all together. it felt final, saying it aloud. a reminder that he couldn't trick himself into thinking she'll show up from a supply run to craft more bullets and an apologetic look in her eye that she accidentally left her phone on silent. as if there isn't the wax poured riddle to think about. there is a meager smile on his lips when she tries to lighten the mood. ❝ westray's not for the faint of heart anymore it seems. ❞ perhaps it never was.

''Oh, well it's reassuring to hear it's not affecting my performance. I'd hate to be that guy, the one who can't separate his personal life from his professional one.'' He wasn't a fan of the fact that it showed still.

''I'm sorry it showed at all. I usually try to keep things... professional...'' he wanted to pretend like everything was great, but he felt like it would be even worse this way.

''You probably heard about my divorce with Olivia. It was... mutual,'' he said it like he meant it, but they both knew better. Everyone did. He had been crazy about her. Still was, if he was being honest with himself.

there's more sympathy in his eyes when he brings up the divorce. if there was one thing that would shatter spencer, it would be his wife leaving him. ❝ even if it was mutual i'm sure it isn't easy. but you're still young. all the time in the world to find your person, if that's something you're still open to. ❞

He swung the stick some more, not sure where he was even going at that moment, or where he was even supposed to really be, other than a forest, east. Or something. The forest was quite big, though! No one had seemed to come this way, so it couldn't have been that bad, he justified. Coming around a tree, he tucked the stick under an arm and pulled out his phone to check the time or any messages. Only stopping when Spencer popped suddenly into view. Surprised, he jumped a bit before stopping himself from panicking, being on edge over the entire morning incident.

“Oh. Well, someone came into my house. So that's really unsettling.” He answered, giving a slight grin, “Though. Not being the only one? More unsettling, I'd say.” Harlow continued, not sure he should ask the same, seeing as people were missing, and that couldn't have felt great. So he figured saying nothing for now was best. Hearing Spencer, he decided, saying, “I'm not really finding anything so far, just forest and more forest.” Nodding in agreement, though, with what Spencer had said, he exhaled, “I don't think I could sleep tonight, knowing something is out there.” But that really didn't matter, given what he learned about the sleep situation throughout the whole town from the meeting.

❝ it somehow feels less personal and more personal that this seemed to have happened to most people in town to some degree. more terrifying as to what could have even done it, that's for damn sure. ❞ the carefully crafted mask of confidence to mitigate the fear of his children at city hall has long since cracked. initially, he hadn't even wanted to break the news to them and worry them unnecessarily. she would be back because he couldn't see a path forward without her. there wasn't another option. but he couldn't be deceitful with them. he'd decided that well before the mass text hit the emergency system.

❝ i'm not going to be able to sleep or eat either until i find my wife. the riddle this a-hole left me is confusing. and how do i even tell them if i figured it out?? ❞ the building frustration is evident in his eyes, his tone. the seemingly ever jovial spencer avery is sour, nearly teetering on the edge of desperation. he's already picked his nails to be about as short as they can be without being painful. a nervous habit of his that he's hoping to hear an admonishment from his wife about before nightfall. ❝ there's a trail of blood a few hundred yards that way. must have been coyote food last night, whatever it was from the looks. you don't want to waste your time checking it out like i did. ❞

The crowd pressed forward like a wave; she had no strength to resist. Each step felt heavy, stomach curled into a tight knot of nausea. The sound of voices blended into an echoing hum, but then one word seemed to rise above it.

Her name.

She turned too quickly, her balance faltering for half a second before her eyes found the source. A man. Familiar in the way dreams are. She had seen him before. Quiet, steady, always near the darker corners of the casino.

Her lips parted, but no sound came at first. When he said “husband,” her gaze flicked down instinctively to her hand - still bare. Her fingers clenched to hide a tremor as she forced herself to nod and then shake her head, frantic.

“No. He is not missing.” She swallowed. “But... I woke up and… it was gone. My ring.” Her voice cracked there, her hands going to her chest, together now, twisting, fingers tugging at each other harshly as if to anchor her. “And someone left me a note. A riddle... and there was blood... so much blood... a face...” She was hyperventilating while trying to explain.

She had no idea what she was supposed to do now. Allowed to. Alexander had left the city, and now she needed him more than... maybe ever. Her head kept pounding as she saw the painted face again, the blood, the image of her sister... sister... sister...

"What am I allowed to do now?" she asked the man, her eyes filled with tears. She needed someone to give her guidance... to tell her to get a grip of herself so she would start tightening the walls that had been cracking.

sympathy flares within him when he sees how outwardly distraught she is. for a second he considers a reassuring shoulder squeeze, but ultimately decides that it's best to keep his hands to himself. they don't know each other well and he's not about to overstep a boundary when she's already upset... especially when he can't be sure she would find any sort of physical gesture soothing in this moment.

❝ i woke up to a necklace of mine being gone too. ❞ not nearly comparable to a wedding ring without context and likely still not with added context... but maybe she could find some comfort in knowing that she's not alone in this. ❝ we're going to find them. a lot of people in town are organizing into search parties at the town hall. you'll get the ring back, i'm sure of it. ❞

speaking of the riddles, he's not sure how the mysterious shroud will figure out that they all have solved them. is that really the key to getting things back? or is this more like a demented scavenger hunt where everyone's paths will converge to a central point after several stupid riddles? ❝ you had a riddle painted in blood too? do you know what yours means? ❞ he's not confident on the answer to his. the pungent smell of unidentified animal blood and the realization of the necklace missing were more than enough to get him leaving his suite as soon as possible. he can only hope that he can get someone to clean it up for him before this is all over with.

when she speaks again, the word allowed sticks with him. his eyebrows furrow slightly. maybe he's reading too much into it. roland's seen a lot of things in his life as a vampire. it's far from uncommon for them to have human companions. still, he puts the information in his back pocket to focus on when the whole town isn't on fire. ❝ you're allowed to do whatever you want. i'm searching on my own... you have any friends that can help you look? ❞ he doesn't think she should be wandering around alone. who knows what desperation will lead people to today.

❝ you deserve to find what's been taken from you as much as anyone else. ❞ whatever she's lost she seems to be troubled over it and he's curious as to why she would think she doesn't deserve to find hints. he's been far from what some would consider respectable in his life and it never crossed his mind that he deserved to have his most valuable possession snatched from him in the middle of the night. maybe that simply meant lana is simply a better person than he is... or at the very least less selfish and arrogant. if it weren't for his mood since he woke up, her next sentence would make him laugh aloud. instead, it gets a pursed lip grin and a shake of his head. if there's one thing he can say about lana it's that she never fails to surprise him. ❝ some say it's the best seat in town. though i'm starting to doubt this mess will be cleaned up before nightfall. ❞

Maia knew when it was best to keep her head down and do what she was told and this was absolutely one of those times. Sure she could have made a scene but it was clear that she wasn't the only one who lost something important to her, and she tried not to think of how maybe she didn't deserve the locket back after everything she had done. She shook her head to try to get rid of the negative thoughts as she pushed ahead, spreading out with her search group to comb over every inch of the forest.

The entrance to the forest path made her stop in her tracks, the sign was covered in gold and it made her think of her riddle. She didn't know if it meant anything but it was gold and not treasure so maybe it was the right way to go. She didn't know how long she was out on the path when Roland walked up next to her, relaxing Maia instantly. "I don't know but I just can't help but think we're close. I had a weird riddle in my room and it was like a clue." Though for all she knew she could have been way off, never being good at riddles to begin with. "Yeah they're definitely going to have hell to pay. Who the fuck would even do something like this?"

❝ i have no idea. not sure if some of the witches in town were bored last night. but it's starting to piss me off that i don't even know what i'm really looking for. ❞ though he's having a hard time believing that any of them are strong enough to do something this widespread and involved -- it's the best working theory he has as of now. ❝ how are you holding up? any problems in your search party? ❞ he's glad that he avoided joining ranks with the others, because he's not sure how short his fuse would be having to deal with a bunch of hysterical townspeople stuck to his side.