☆ · ˚ . ✦ . ˚

                 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚,  𝐚𝐯𝐚,  𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐢,  𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐤𝐚𝐡, 

                             𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞,  𝐣𝐨,  𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐲  &  𝐣𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐚  

     𝙸𝙵  𝙸𝚃'𝚂  𝙰  𝙶𝙰𝙼𝙴  she  wants  ,  he  isn’t  playing   ;   at  least  not  by  her  rules.  he’ll  send  her  to  hell  so  fast  her  head  will  spin  the  minute  she  proves  she’s  of  no  use  to  him.  that  she’s  dangling  lies  on  a  tightrope.  he  has  to  feel  her  out  first  ,  seek  deeper.   (   if  there  was  anything  deep  there  to  find   ).  what  would  her  kind  willingly  desire  from  a  hunter  ?  ❝  i  thought  demons  only  make  exchanges  if  there’s  a  soul  involved.❞  sam  offers  the  cutting  remark  flatly  ,  closing  notes  about  recent  deaths  that  were  left  open  ,  forgotten  on  the  table  once  she  arrived.  he  inches  forward  a  bit  as  well  ,  the  only  emotion  circling  in  his  narrow  gaze  is  the  pure  act  of  curiosity.  chancing  a  glance  between  outdoors  through  the  glass  window  at  their  disposal.  then  seeking  her  frozen  eyes  again.  ❝  for  all  you  know  ,  i  could  throw  you  right  back  into  the  hole  you  crawled  out  from.❞

               “     i  really  hope  i’m  not  coming  on  too  strong  ,  but  i  think  i’ve  seen  you  around  campus  .     ”     adam  is  supposed  to  be  in  the  same  grade  as  her  and  her  friends  ,  but  mr  .  brainiac  has  skipped  several  grades  already  .  he  slides  the  books  over  to  his  left  arm  and  then  extends  his  right  hand  out  ,  in  case  bonnie  wants  to  shake  his  hand  .     “     anyway  ,  i’d  figure  i’d  stop  hoping  to  bump  into  you  in  the  library  again  and  just  come  up  and  introduce  myself  the  next  time  i  saw  you  .  i’m  adam  milligan  ,  new  transfer  student  around  here  .  i  was  wondering  if  a  pretty  lady  like  you  would  like  to  grab  a  bite  to  eat  sometime  ?      ”     

            this was not what she’d signed up for when moving into dorms. getting away from her parents, yes that was a blessing, but she had specifically arranged to be on her own. lydia’s closet space was not made for sharing. yet a late transfer, and some administrative fuck up, had lead to a rather sheepish RA announcing to her that she’d be getting a roommate. a roommate. the redhead stands in the centre of the room, eyeing the new arrival’s things. at least she had some taste, decent fashion pieces. it was a small victory. “it’s asli, right ??” 

availability :  open  to  anyone  ! location :  merlotte’s  bar  and  grill  .

                     drowning  his  sorrows  again  ,  how  predictable  .  his  fake  i.d.  was  doing  a  lot  of  heavy  lifting  ,  as  it  had  been  for  months  .  he  wasn’t  far  from  twenty  one  anyway  ,  so  who  gave  a  shit  ?   other  than  his  liver  and  kidneys  ,  of  course  .  they  were  screaming  ,  but  his  brain  wasn’t  listening  .   ‘  keep  ‘em  coming  ,  ’  he  rumbled  in  the  general  direction  of  the  bartender  ,  not  satisfied  with  his  vague  buzz  .  this  wasn’t  helping  him  solve  the  case  he  was  currently  working  on  ,  but  that  wasn’t  going  to  slow  him  down  .  he  could  always  just  work  on  it  in  the  morning  .  noting  someone  sitting  on  the  stool  next  to  him  ,  he  pointed  at  it  lazily  .   ‘  that  seat’s  taken  .  ’   it  wasn’t  .

          asli’s  still  getting  used  to  the  roads  here  .  the  turns            —            the  blind  spots  .  the  creatures  that  seem  to  appear  in  and  out  of  thin  air  .  the  rain  .  the  dark  .  she  shrieks  and  jumps  in  her  seat  as  something          (           or  someone           )          hits  the  dash          —         slamming  on  the  breaks  in  a  panic  .  adrenaline  steadies  anxious  hands  as  she  unbuckles  her  seatbelt,  horrified  to  see  the  damage  she’s  caused  .  to  not  a  creature           —          but  a  man  .  she  hit  a  man  .  she  can’t  help  the  panicked  tears  that  fall  as  she  rushes  in  the  rain  to  kneel  beside  him  .  he  could  be  dead  .  he  might  be  dead  .           “          don’t  move  .           ”             she  pleads,  through  tears,  feeling  slight  relief  at  the  sign  of  movement  .  just  slight  .  she  hit  him  .  she  could  have  killed  him  .           “         i  need  to  run  back  to  the  car  . . .  call  an  ambulance  .  don’t  move  . . .          ”         

           asli  loves  having  her  aunt  around  .  she  doesn’t  love  5  am  alarms  and  sprint  drills  before  sunrise  .  but  she’ll  still  toss  her  hair  up  into  a  bun  and  lace  up  her  trainers  just  to  impress  her  aunt           —          push  herself  to  her  limit  just  to  keep  up  .  to  make  her  proud  .  she  does  her  best  to  ignore  the  metallic  taste  on  her  tongue  from  her  untrained  lungs  .  the  blisters  forming  on  the  back  of  her  heels  .  doesn’t  like  to  admit  to  falling  behind  on  her  hobbies           —           failing  at  her  skill  .  least  of  all  the  one  she  and  kate  have  most  in  common  .  but  her  unpracticed  form  gives  out  in  the  end           —          doubled  over  at  the  seize  of  a  cramp  in  her  side  .  fuck  .            “           fine  . . .            ”            she  admits,  out  of  breath,  hands  over  her  head  in  embarrassed  defeat  .           “          i’ll  admit  it  . . .  i  . . .  haven’t  been  exercising  much  .  but  ever  think  to  take  up  a  less  strenuous  pastime  ?  chess,  maybe  ?  scrapbooking  ?            ”

Their beginnings were of the same womb, same blood, same death. Rebekah had developed more of a heart, one could say, that worshiped idle romance. A habit that had left her broken on more than one occasion over the centuries, although Kol had never truly understood the point of it if all it brought was sorrow and some poor sap dismembered and tossed aside. Normally by his hand, but his sister had often sharpened her teeth and bled out her old lovers without any help. It is this familiar hesitation that he feels now as he follows her on the campus grounds of Bon Temps university. A begrudging duty he feels to keep her sticky fingers out of the honey pot she so often is drawn to. Another questionable decision of his family only to be verbally reminded once again, ‘Is it the thrill of the chase for you, dear sister? Or do you just prefer your audience to be incompetent youths?’

Magic was similar to a fluid. It could wash anything away, even the oldest of stones. There is, however, one lineage that he had often had run-ins with that was anything other than a giant ball of flame. Fire that crackled and ate up all in its path, an appetite for transformation and restoring balance. The Bennett blood beckons him, and like any other devil he obliges to that demand. It is simply interesting to him that an ancestral line of such power would arrive so strongly here in Bon Temps. After all those years of silence and avoidance of the spotlight the past returns to him. Here, of all places. He had followed her since she first got out of her vehicle, textbooks in arms and a sense of absentmindedness to her that would almost be labeled as innocence. If not for the bubbling nature forming inside of her. She would have immediately sensed him as well if she were a trained witch, and this allows him time to fall alongside her, pace matching hers. He keeps his accent subtle, albeit a few words that lilt with the habit of a Scandinavian tongue. ‘Beautiful pendant. Is it a good luck charm for the approaching mid-terms?’

No matter how these shackles made him ache, the viper will never leave the side of whatever prey he has in his sights. Arrogant, of course, as he recognizes the smell of deception and desolation approaching him once again. This makes him angrier this time, more determined to make a grave from which there is no escape. There was something beautifully frail about the woman who had been winning each and every pool game for the past two hours. Wringing out the betting pot each victory. He has no desire to focus on the surroundings, nor tally up the negative outcomes of this interaction. He’s becoming too used to the fire again. Burnt and ash-born, the doomed repeats himself. He’s wondering if this pertains to his situation at hand, or the pink-skinned organ that beats away beneath his ribcage with an inanimate annoyance. Steady, no matter what second-death is coming. Eager, no matter what death-harbinger is present. He speaks from a few feet away, still leaning against the bar counter, yet vision is trained solely on the blonde. An amusing smile is all that fills his face, while beady eyes remain snake-like and transfixed by the movements of the other. ‘Soon you’ll be the richest woman in this town[…]perhaps already the most cunning.’

            there’s  no  reason  the  girl  from  peoria  should  be  12  hours  on  the  road  because  of  a  feeling  .  but  flashes  of  her  most  recent  nightmare  greet  her  as  she  drives  past  the  bon  temps  sign           —          adrenaline  and  urgent  fear  forcing  her  to  continue  her  trip  despite  her  exhausted  state  .  she  doesn’t  even  need  a  map  to  direct  her             —           a  familiar  tree,  or  bend  in  the  road  enough  to  lead  her  to  the  motel  housing  the  stranger  from  her  dreams  .  she  must  look  insane            —            bugged  out  and  sullied  from  hours  panicked  and  speeding  on  the  road  .  but  she  doesn’t  have  time  to  clean  up           —            to  be  convenient  .  to  mark  more  time  .  rehearse  and  explanation  .  she  has  to  help  him  .  so  she  ignores  the  stinging  pain  in  her  fast  asleep  legs  as  she  leaps  out  of  her  car  and  the  neighbours  and  the  time  of  night  as  she  bangs  on  the  motel  door           —            bargaining  on  the  suite  number  being  the  same  as  the  one  in  her  nightmare  .  if  it’s  not            —            he’s  as  good  as  dead  .