#oerginals

“What the fuck Elias?” for a normally pretty mild-mannered and easygoing employee, Jié is pissed. They all but storm into Elias’ office, not even bothering to unload the truck first, or to take off the flashlight still perched on their shoulder. There’s a kind of grim satisfaction as they trail the dirt of Sunny Meadows into the office. It would be more satisfying if their shoes weren’t still sticky with congealed blood. When Jié slams their hands down on his desk, they are not surprised to see that they’re still shaking. 

“Sending us into hunts half blind ‘cause you don’t have all the info that’s-that’s one thing, but this was way over the fucking line.” This isn’t the first time Jié has entered a building not entirely certain what to expect. That’s fine, it comes with the job. Even fucked up crucifixes and summoning circles wouldn’t have bothered them, really. When you hunt the things that go bump in the night for a living, you grow accustomed to seeing a decent amount of spooky and fucked up shit. There’s a difference between that and the fucking gore fest they’d been sent to tonight, though.

Growing up in Quebec means Jié has a certain tolerance for the cold. Not for them is the endless grumbling and shivering of their Hangzhou born and bread mother. Every winter Jié would don their snow trousers and point out weird looking icicles to their friends. No, Jié is perfectly used to the cold-but even they can admit that, right now, shivering their ass off in an abandoned campsite, ,they’d rather be anywhere else.     

“Elias doesn’t pay us nearly enough for this,” they grumble to Mogie, fumbling with the spirit box in glove covered hands. “We’d just better hope it’s not a hantu or we’re fucked.” Which, knowing their luck, means it absolutely will be a hantu, or at least one of the ghosts that makes their surroundings colder. Not that there’s any way to tell with the snow swirling around them and the wind pulling the tents almost out of their pegs.

Working the spirit box with gloves on is going nowhere, so with some reluctance Jié uses their teeth to pull of one glove, flinching at the feeling of their bare fingers in the frigid night air. Still, at least they can actually turn the damn thing on now. 

When Scout wakes up, turns off her alarm, and see that the date reads October 30th, she wants to scream. It’s hard not to, when her phone’s been showing her the exact same thing for the past three days. It’d be one thing if it was just her phone that was fucked up, annoying sure but fixable, but she knows now that the date’s just the start. The tweets will be the same, the instagram stories, the music on the radio in the car, all of it. All of it will be the exact fucking same because either Scout’s living October thirtieth for the fourth time in a row, or she’s officially losing her mind and quite frankly she doesn’t know which of those is the less appealing option.

It’d been almost easy to explain away at first. A weird side effect of her powers, some kind of weirdly vivid dream. The kind of thing that’s annoying and kind of freaky, but no more so than anything else she’s dealt with over the past decade. Now, though, she’s not so sure. Even if this is some kind of dream situation, it’s freaking her out that she can’t tell the difference between that and reality anymore. The possibility that she’s finally cracked is a pretty distinct one, too, which is less than fucking ideal, to say the least.

Looking at Chuck sleeping peacefully next to her she considers, for a second, just letting her rest and trying to figure this out herself. The idea is dismissed pretty quickly, though, because not only does she absolutely need Chuck to talk her down from a panic attack right now, but because she also knows her wife well enough to know that she’d be pissed if Scout didn’t involve her in this. Forget in sickness and health, they should have had in weird paranormal shit and brief, glorious glimpses of normality written into their vows. With that in mind she puts her hand on Chuck’s shoulder and gives her a none too gentle shake-so sue her, she’s freaking out.

yearning meme | accepting | @oerginals​ ❝ just take my hand and close your eyes. pretend we’re anywhere else but here. ❞ Scout & Chuck 

Something about this reminds Scout of when they were kids. Maybe its the looming sense of danger from something unknown but powerful, or maybe it’s the feeling of Chuck’s smaller hand in hers. More likely it’s being back in Myrtle Springs, and all the feelings of fear and powerlessness that come with it. Right now they’re huddled in the girl’s bathroom of their old high school and God if this doesn’t bring back memories. Back then it was usually Chuck calming Scout down from a panic attack over grades-this time it’s because there’s people in an honest to god cult who want them fucking dead and are searching the school for them. Scout’s palm is sweating in Chuck’s and her  lungs feel too empty and too full all at once. She’s not cut out for this kind of thing. Never was.  

Pretend we’re anywhere else but here says Chuck, so Scout closes her eyes and finds herself thinking, surprisingly, of California. A shitty two room apartment right on the edge of Skid Row might not exactly be luxury living, but right now Scout would give anything to be on the seafront taking in the sun. She pictures Chuck next to her, the two of them giddy on cotton candy and frozen margaritas. Between work and just trying to survive Scout’s never had much time for the touristy stuff in LA, but she imagines the two of them now: hand in hand on Santa Monica Pier, or taking on the coasters at Knott’s Berry Farm.It makes her chest ache. 

hurt meme | accepting | @oerginals

If Ismark has ever been this scared before, he doesn't remember it. Even when his mother was screaming and delirious with fever before she died, he wasn't as terrified as he is now. The only consolation is that he managed to get to the castle in time. Ireena is home, shaken and scared but whole and alive. It could have been so, so much worse. He doesn't want to think about what could have happened, but at the same time he can't stop picturing it.

Breaking into Castle Ravenloft wasn't easy, nor was breaking the Charm on Ireena and escaping. Ismark has paid for it with skinned knees, a black eye, and a particularly gnarly gash on his chest from Strahd's claws. He hadn't even realised how bad it was until he was back home with Ireena, and even then he hadn't been able to do anything about it while his father chewed him out. Kolyan Indirovich doesn't care that Ismark saved Ireena, he only cares that he didn't stop her being taken.

Finally alone in his room, Ismark had taken his shirt off and watched the blood running down his chest with a kind of numb curiosity-and that's how Bas found him. Shirtless, trembling, and all together not quite right. It's with surprising tenderness that Bas had found a clean needle and thread and some bandages. He chattered, as he always does, as he'd cleaned and stitched, and Ismark had let the words ground him.

hurt meme | accepting | @oerginals

"I fail to see the correlation between the two. Starfleet bandages are made to be unobtrusive and sensitive to the skin. Furthermore, as you are injured your body requires a greater level of rest in order to heal. It is therefore illogical to state that the bandages will keep you from sleeping."

Vulcans do not worry. After all, one of Surak's earliest teachings was that of kaiidth-what is, is. It is illogical to concern oneself with what cannot be changed. If someone falls ill or is injured, it is the logical application of medicine which will save them, not emotions nor anxiety. Kaiidth.

T'shul was...concerned, when Jet was injured on an away mission the contractor had been bought in to help on. Not worried of course, that is an emotional state with which she is unfamiliar, but she can admit to herself that she felt some (purely logical) concern. If Jet were to die before this mission is over then it would be significantly harder to complete (T'shul approximates a 75.43% increase in difficulty without Jet's expertise) besides which, it is only logical that one should seek to preserve life.

Now though there is no reason for concern. Jet has been tended to, she is in the medical bay, and the advanced medical equipment of the fleet will ensure she is operating at full capacity within approximately two earth days. The odds that something further will go wrong are low, and even if they did-kaiidth. There is nothing T'shul can do to change the future. The logical thing to do would be to leave Jet in the care of the ships doctor and retire to her own room to meditate. And yet-quite illogically-T'shul does not want to leave.

meme. @oerginals

"Oh, gosh, how do I even..." Dove shakes her head and laughs. Half a dozen ribbons dance around her face as she does, tied as they are to her ram's horns for the festive season. Her long, white hair is done up in braids and pinned back.

"It's gonna sound insane, y'know, but alright, I'll give it a shot. So, basically, there were these two people, right? And one was hellbent on killin' the other, like one was this nineteen-year-old ginger girl and she was the one who wanted to do the killin', 'cause supposedly this man had killed her father, except the man said he didn't do it and I believed him, so we found out they were actually ancient dragons in the skin of humans, right? And the humans were, well, we dunno if they were possessed or somethin', but they didn't even know they were dragons. But so then the ginger, Jane, she killed the guy and then they both became dragons and we had to kill the dragons but luckily that didn't kill Miss Jane 'cause she's really sweet, actually, a very nice girl, she was just not totally human, which really wasn't her fault at all. But anyways we couldn't save poor Mister John, though, 'cause she'd already chopped his head off, and that does make me sad still but we did give him a burial and we saved the valley from explodin', so I think we did alright anyways."

“Oh don’t be such a grump-it’s going to be fun.” the problem with Augue (the problem with all vampires over a certain age, in Friday’s opinion) is that he’s so caught up in the whole immortal life blah blah existence is a curse thing, that he’s forgotten how to just enjoy things. It’s not his fault, xe supposes, living indefinitely probably is a bit of a bummer but still, Friday doesn’t see why the uncertainty of an ageless future should stop Aguie from having fun now. 

So, here xe is, a Saturday evening, having managed to convince Augie to come down to the pub with Friday to meet a few of xyr friends. Not just any pub, either, but one of Cardiff’s many paranormal pubs that serves (ethically sourced) blood alongside the usual alcoholic affair. Friday has done xyr research, is the thing, because as much as xe might give Augie a hard time about being a dull old man, xe actually does want him to enjoy himself and like xyr friends.

It’s not-it’s not exactly a date or anything, though xem and Augie have been dancing around something for a while now, but this is still important to Friday. After everything that went down with Lucas it’s-well, it’s important to xem that xyr friends like Augie, is all. Friday still struggles to trust xyr own judgment on people, sometimes, and if xyr friends don’t like Augie then maybe Friday is wrong. Maybe this whatever it is between them will never work out. 

“We’ll just go, hang out with my friends, have a couple of drinks and maybe get some food on the way home,” xe says, grinning with a mouth full of slightly too many teeth. Augie looks beautiful under the golden glow of the street lamps, though Friday forces xemself to swallow down any comment they might make about it. Xe looks at Augie for a moment longer, something uncomfortable twisting in xer stomach, before sighing. Friday knows what it’s like to be dragged along to a social event you’d really rather not go to, is the thing. Knows how it feels to be stood in the corner putting on a polite face while wishing more than anything that you were anywhere else. Whatever else kind of a person xe is, xe refuses to be anything like Lucas. When xe speaks again xer voice is softer, and xe tangles one of xyr hands in Augie’s.