WAYWARD SOULS

Her smile did not go unnoticed though, and when she offered to take credit for the drink, he shook his head slightly, "Oh, absolutely not. Do not let that inflate your ego," he replied immediately, though there was no real bite to his words. "Your skills remain acceptable."

"They were right, the cat distribution center is real!" A disturbance had come from the bushes while on her walk. Instead of making the reasonable decision and keep walking, Talia had decided to investigate the rustling. Worst-case scenario, it was a raccoon, and she had to go get a rabies shot. However, it turned out to be the best case possible because in the bush, it was a small kitten. She held the tiny creature to the person walking with her, eyes wide and filled with awe. "I've been chosen. I'm now a mother. I love them so much." Her voice was going up a few octaves as she talked to the kitten. "Unless you want to be co-parents," she added quickly, though she didn't really want to be. Talia was just being nice. "They need a name and probably a bath. Just to be safe."

"What do we think?" Sun-Hee was doing a closest clean out. Her style had evolved over time. She picked out the pieces that no longer felt like her. There was a visible maturing of her aesthetic. A refinement of her sense of self. "Keep or donate?"

Option A Location: Rose Tinted

Dying had, of course, not been part of his planned itinerary in this bizarre little town, but the few days in the hospital, leading up to his release early that morning, had proven somehow even more frustrating. Tripp could recognize this instinctual reaction stemmed from a sort of dull shock, an attempt to latch onto the concrete when everything suddenly felt so abstract. If he could be annoyed at something, anything, he did not have to think too strongly about his current circumstances. He was dead. He was now something else. Big deal. He still had work to do. This place, however, proved a little pink for his liking, and the décor leaned a little on-the-nose for his tastes.

The meeting he had missed in it, however, was supposed to be over tea, which he did know how to take, but sunlit rendezvous seemed to be out-of-the-question for the moment. Still, Saturday evening drinks were not a bad place to talk business, even if the storeowner he was meeting was running late. "Excuse me." He leaned to the person seated beside him among the tables with a pristine smile. "This is a genuine question. Does this taste burned to you, or is it me? I think this champagne's been frozen in the bottle." Most things simply did not taste good anymore, he was quickly realizing.

Option B Location: Drop It Like a Squat

Power. He still could not believe the utter power coursing through him. He could leap higher, lift heavier, run faster, and punch harder. For some time now, he had been jumping rope in front of one of the mirrors, entirely unfatigued. The sensation was downright intoxicating, as though he had finally cast off limitations he did not even know were holding him back from achieving his true potential.

"You know, friend, I thought vampires weren't supposed to have reflections," he hummed, cocking his head to one side but not interrupting his own flow. "But here I am." He smiled. "That said, I didn't know 'vampire' was a thing a person could actually be either. Do you ever get used to it?" Tripp smirked. "This is a cool place, though. Have you been a member long?"

He was on a day pass because while he was still staying at the Emerald Hotel, he did not like hotel gyms. No one ever wiped them down, and a treadmill and a few measly dumbbells were less conducive to anything but looking busy.

Rose-Tinted was not one of Cassandra's frequent haunts, and it was for that reason she chose to have drinks there; Lunar Cove was a small town, and she preferred to switch up her drinking locales when the occasion permitted. Something about drinking at the same bar more than once a week just felt sad to her, and more pathetic than she was willing to allow herself. Therefore, drinks at the blush-hued establishment seemed the right choice.

She hadn't expected to be addressed by another diner, and her expression might have been unimpressed when she looked over before amusement raised her brow. The question caught her off guard, but in a way that stirred her curiosity. She took a sip of the champagne in question, mulling over the flavor profile for a few moments before shrugging. “I mean, it's no Salon Blanc de Blancs, but it tastes fine to me. Wait,” She peered at him, taking stock of his features before recognition finally clicked into place. “Tripp? Tripp Babcock? What are you doing in Lunar Cove, of all places?”

beltane had been celebrated with the flower full moon and burning her intentions and what she wanted to let go of in a quiet ceremony down by the beach, very fitting for a girl who had died that year and woke up into a undead existence. she was feeling light, with no failed relationships weighing heavily on her shoulders and burnt out from practicing dark magic in the light of the full moon. she craved french fries and having an appetite for human food seemed like a secret blessing instead of a curse. she sat on one of the candy apple red vinyl seats, when stevie approached, a soft smile brushed her lips. "Hey, I hope you're doing. Sorry my sire bit you the last time I saw you, I hope it didn't hurt so bad and that it wasn't your first introduction into the freaky things our fangs can do."

"So let me get this straight, we're siblings, you have a daughter and a not-so-secret baby daddy who's in town who took down that hellhound like it was nothing? Anything else I've missed in the past, well, you know, the majority of our lives?" She asked with a tilt of a brow.

Addie was, in a wild turn of events, not at the bar tonight to pick up anyone. She just needed a damn drink and to not be near Ronnie, who was once again frequenting the van more so than normal lately, and kept trying to check up on Addie. She didn't want that nor did she need it, she was just fucking fine, actually. All she needed was a drink or two and some loud music, and so that's how she found herself at Eclipse, leaning against a back wall, nursing her third or fourth whiskey and coke-- she'd already lost count. Not that it mattered. Addie rarely felt much until her fifth drink these days.

Right now, she really just felt the ache of her bones and muscles, despite it having been several days since the stupid masquerade when she'd been forced to change. Despite her having tried several different substances to make it go away. She still walked with an uneven gait, a twinge of pain running up her shin every time she stepped.

Really, Addie just needed somewhere to be that was busy enough to keep her mind off everything.

Through the crowd, though, Addie spotted a familiar face. Not necessarily one she'd seen a lot, not a person she'd talked to much, despite her being Sun-Hee's roommate. At first, Addie didn't move. She didn't care, didn't see a point in going over. But after a moment, she pushed away from the wall and limped towards the bar, even if she wasn't entirely sure what compelled her to. She slid into the spot next to Rory smoothly, despite the wobble in her body, and casually said, "You're Sun-Hee's roommate, yeah?" It wasn't really a question, more just a statement. She set her drink on the bar top, keeping a nonchalant gaze. "Realized I never really, uh, properly introduced myself, even though I'm around a lot." Which was weird, wasn't it? That Addie kept coming back. She ignored the thought.

"Sun-Hee gave me the open invitation or whatever," she shrugged, "but was thinking I should probably, you know, make sure it's still there. That you're cool with it, too, or whatever." Addie didn't usually care about shit like that, about making friends with her fuck buddies' friends. This seemed different. She washed the thought down with a long swig of her drink.

What she hadn't been expecting was to see a vaguely familiar face. She knew about Addie, of course, from Sun-Hee, but had yet to officially introduce herself. It wasn't from lack of desire to, Rory loved making friends after all, but she usually found herself busy or staying at Ren or another friend's place whenever she came around. As she slid into the spot beside her, Rory flashed her a toothy grin.

“Oh, hey! Yeah, Addie. I've seen you around.” And by see you around she meant something to the effect of try to avoid interrupting your and Sun-Hee's me-time. She held out her free hand to shake. “It's no sweat, I'm usually all over the place anyway. I'm Aurora, but everyone calls me Rory. Which, I'm sure you've heard from Sun-Hee or something already.”

Rory tilted her head, amusement tugging at the corner of her mouth as she shrugged. “I mean, yeah. As long as it's cool with Sun-Hee, it's cool with me. Granted, she's technically letting me live rent-free so, really it's up to her anyway, but,” she chuckled, taking a sip of her own drink. “Hey, uh. How are you after the whole masquerade fiasco? Some pretty crazy shit happened.”

"Okay, you can't tell me this isn't a masterpiece," Kiraz grinned as she flipped the screen of her camera around to show Rory the shot she had just captured of one of their customers' outside of the Drip soaked in their own cup of coffee they had just spilled down their chest. While Kiraz often was hired to shoot engagement, event and wedding photography, this right here was her favorite kind of shots to capture. Moments of tourists and locals in their element making complete and utter messes of themselves.

“Better because they would have figured it out eventually.” It was never a matter of what if when it came to his family. It was always a matter of when. His family were excellent hunters. Malcolm may have been unaware of Stevie’s truth but with time, his father would have caught on. “Being out of the picture meant you were safe from them. Rhiannon safe from them.” He had no doubt that his daughter was a witch just like her mother. If his own father had no hesitations on ending him after he switch, he knew that the title of granddaughter didn’t keep Rhiannon safe either. Family was just an empty word when you weren’t human. 

Malcolm was still at her words for a moment before he nodded. When they had met, the two were from different worlds. Born enemies, yet they fell in love. Even with the knowledge of Stevie being a witch, it didn't change his feelings for her then, and it certainly didn't know. If anything, it caused guilt to rise in his throat like bile every time he thought about it. Stevie had grown up around hunters. He could only imagine the fear she lived with daily and the resilience she had to muster to survive. Now here he was just like her, yet the guilt never vanished. "I am." The tattoo on his back felt like it was burning at the acknowledgment that he had changed. He'd carry the mark of his past forever, whether he wanted to or not.

"Why are you apologizing? It's not your fault I changed," he closed the space between them and took her hands. Malcolm held them for a moment. The words he wanted to say for so long were on the tip of his tongue. "And maybe it's for the better that I did," he dared to lift his head, his eyes meeting hers. "You did what you felt was right for you and our daughter. I will never hold that against you. We're here together now. I won't let you be alone ever again if you'll let me stick around."

As he reached for her hands, Stevie almost stopped breathing. Just the barest touch of his skin against hers had her heart somersaulting in her chest, a feeling she thought she would never experience again. Their warmth suffused her, every callous and palm line so familiar to her that she couldn't help her eyes from fluttering closed as she clung to all the memories of her hands in his. For a few moments, she just lived in those memories. To feel him again in any capacity was more than a dream realized—for years, she had wished for just one more minute with him. And here he stands before her, ready to offer her the lot.

Her eyes burn as she blinks them open, staring at their joined hands. “I- I need...time. But...Rhiannon needs you. And- I would never keep you from her. I just...” She swallowed thick around the lump in her throat, as if pulling the words were a physical pain. “I care about you, Malcolm. That's never going to change. I just...need time before we can get back to that place. I spent nearly a decade mourning you. I'm...just not the same person I was then.”

The injury should have faded by now. Instead, it lingered, still raw, still stinging, refusing to close even though days have passed. That alone was wrong. Stranger still, was how everything else felt dull. His hearing lacked its usual sharpness, his strength dipped to something regular, all his senses seemed to fade at the edges. All of it was off.

Ken stepped into the Daily Drip drawn by the need of wanting something familiar. The quiet rhythm of the place offered a kind of external reassurance, seeing as his thoughts felt unreliable. It was busy, but not unpleasantly so, but it meant that Leyla and Ren were occupied, leaving Rory to take his order. Which was fine, she had made his coffee often enough. Before he retreated to his usual corner chair however, he asked her to leave out the blood as even the thought of it turned his stomach with visceral disdain.

Drink arrived with a nod of thanks, and that would have been the end of it had the sip he had taken not made him pause. His gaze shifted to Rory, a faint furrow forming between his brows because the taste was... unexpectedly good. "Have your skills improved overnight?" he asked, studying her with a slight narrowing of his eyes, "This is considerably better than what you usually give me."

She'd been about to bid him goodbye and return to her previous duties when his question gave her pause. “Um, not to my knowledge? Made it just the same, sans-blood.” A shrug punctuated her words. Her gaze flit between him and the aforementioned drink, hesitating a moment before presenting her theory. “D'you think that maybe your, um...tastebuds have improved? Y'know.” She gave a vague and somewhat awkward gesture. “All things considered.”

"Enjoying the blood room?" Meena mused with a tilt of her brow as she watched the young vampire emerge from where she had been having a midday snack at the Country Club. While the Clan Leader had been lounging at the bar, sipping on her own red tinted drink herself.