who chose

“I’m a terribly private person, I’m afraid” the vampire primly admitted. She did know people in town, it was impossible not to after having made Lethe her home for several decades, but she wasn’t so sure she would call any of them a friend with the exception of Brynn. “But I will find someone”. No friendly bonds were needed to employ someone for a specific job, after all. Wesley’s question was a relevant one and one she had considered as well. “I don’t think so, no” she replied, shaking her head lightly. “The fires were still going on when my shop was robbed”. To her it made more sense to believe the thief had used the commotion of the fires to their advantage, aware that the police would be preoccupied, than the thief being the same person as the arsonist.

Isolde could somewhat related to the sentiment of returning to one’s home. She had felt it once, and part of her felt to this day that even though she had a home she wasn’t quite home. Lethe lacked much of the unique feeling of truly belonging, though perhaps with her brother here now that could change. “No” she simply replied, remaining silent for a few seconds afterwards. Her eyes darted down to one of the pieces of jewelry before she looked at him again. Beautiful and composed as she usually was, the emotion shone through her eyes regardless. “It felt like there was too much loss there” she said in a quieter tone. “Perhaps I should’ve gone back but I didn’t quite feel the way I do now about those that are gone. Death was… harder to process for me back then”. Their mother had passed in that house, Wesley had been mourned as dead, and their father had fallen ill and withered fast soon after her wedding. “Peter and Roger visited us in Germany from time to time. It just- it felt better that way”.

His words shook something in her, and she could almost feel his hurt as her own. And just like that she felt part of the motherly nature she displayed when they were younger rushing back, unexpected but not unfamiliar at all. Her hands moved up to cup his cheeks between them and offered a soft smile. “You were missed so dearly, Wesley” she said, unable to keep her voice from shaking a little. “We mourned you and your absence was acutely felt, I dare say by Roger and me more openly than Father and Peter. But they missed you all the same” she told him, her thumbs brushing softly against her brother’s cheeks. “Roger was the first to marry, if you can imagine that” Isolde said with a light chuckle and then went on to tell him how it had happened. That their brother had gotten a local girl pregnant and married her for honor’s sake. It seemed like a recipe for a disastrous marriage and for Roger to be a reluctant father and yet he ended up taking on every responsibility for his baby girl, and what started as mere companionship in the endeavors of being parents ended up becoming a very loving relationship between Roger and his wife, Beatrice. After their first daughter two more followed. “Peter did have the largest family, of course. Six children” she went on, telling him of the visits their oldest brother paid her in Germany, bringing along his wife as well as his four boys and two girls. Respectable as ever, Peter had made a fine family man and a more loving father than the Allard children ever had. And of course, she had to tell him that Peter’s very first son had been named Wesley. Roger had died first, which she also told him, leaving them younger than he should’ve, at just forty-six; while Peter had lived long enough to see his grandchildren and even his first great-grandchild, though as a man in his early nineties his demetia hadn’t allow him to appreciate the momentous event. All in all, yes; they had been happy. They had suffered, they had struggled, but they had lived lives that so many would envy. Including herself, in some ways.

“I did keep up track of them for a while” she mentioned, thinking fondly of her nieces and nephews “But it got… complicated. I never exposed them to the truth of what I became so eventually they had to think I was gone, and I had to let them go”. Immortality could never match with the mortal lives of others, after all. But given the descendants of their brothers, it wasn’t wrong to think what Wesley was thinking: they most certainly had family out there. “We’re on the same boat, you and I. I did think of them from time to time as well, perhaps to feel less… I don’t know, alone… or left out” she confessed, voicing out thoughts that she hadn’t shared out loud with anyone before, not since her separation from Tobias. “I feel a little less that way now, brother” the vampired told him with a subtle smile, though one that was undeniably warm in nature “And I hope I can give something like that to you as well, a certainty that you’re not alone. I’m just one person, not a large family of sons, daughters, nieces and nephews; but I’m here for you. I’m here for you always”.

“Why?” His question lingers for several seconds before he realizes the lack of explanation, and continues on with a sigh. “What makes it difficult for you to find people who are friends? You have always been the best of our family, you are capable of charming the pants off a priest.” His lips quirk, recalling a similar conversation in their youth; its blasphemous in the day, and the gasp from their siblings at the commentary had made him laugh. Wesley, who had thought the memories too buried to remember, is relieved that he can remember pieces of them. “I cannot judge, as you know, I was just...” Curious, he finishes silently, shrugging instead, allowing her the option of not responding at all if she wishes. He has no right to pry answers from her. “Ah, that is a good point. Whoever this is, they are an opportunist, which tells us precisely nothing.” Everyone is an opportunist after all.

Her response is short, and for a moment he thinks no is the only thing she will say. No less than he deserves for a question that is painful, even if he didn’t think so until it left his lips. Her eyes shone with unspoken words, and Wesley straightens, taller than her by a great deal, and his hand settles on her shoulder, offering what comfort he could. “They would not hate you for those feelings. You were no longer human, but you were... still human,” he says, fumbling with his words. “Wherever they are now, they know what happened and they know why, and they love you still.” Not what she is asking, but Wesley thinks its important to say. “I think its unfortunate that we have gotten used to death. That it... isn’t the same as it used to be, but how else would we get this far? Who would crave immortality then?” It’s no less painful, he thinks, but further away sometimes, like it’s another lifetime.

Wesley blinks, and in that time, his hand is falling from her shoulder, jostled by the movement she makes to hold his face. To comfort him, when he’s spent centuries carrying this grief and found himself... almost numb to it. Almost. Her touch is a sharp reminder of where he is, and how long it has been since someone knew him as she did. “I cannot believe I let myself think otherwise,” he admits. “When I died, and when I woke, I remembered thinking it was peace for the first time in a long while. No longer fighting, no longer losing, no longer failing. I had not understood what I was before panic set in, and even when I did...” Death had left a mark, had left him rattled enough to flee and he hadn’t been strong enough, or brave enough, or loyal enough it seems to counteract it. The weight on his shoulders, a regret too heavy for words, only lightens as she talks about family, as she tells him where their siblings went and how they got there. He blinks rapidly, and tears blur his vision. “He... named his son after me?” he asks softly, almost disbelieving. For the first time in centuries, he thinks of his brother as the good man he was, rather than the things that Wesley had allowed to cloud him for so long. “I’m... glad. So glad. I prayed they were happy.” Inadequate, but how else does he explain the bittersweet pain of hearing this life he could have been part of if he had just stayed? “I am relieved that between the two of us, one of us stayed. One of them knew them. Maybe this was meant to happen.”

The two are seated on the ground, backs against the display cases, but he can’t be bothered by a minor discomfort. “I do not know if they would have believed you if you had told them, they might think your teeth an eccentric choice rather than what it is.” Still, Wesley tries to imagine a world where their family knew. Where coming to Lethe meant not just finding Isolde, but finding the rest of his family, too. He leans his head back. “You saw what you could, and they will be glad you stuck with them, that you got to see their children and grandchildren. Maybe someday...” Wesley breaks off. He doesn’t know if he can bear to see Peter and Roger in the faces of their descendants, but after a moment he continues on with a sharp exhale. “Maybe we can find them, and ensure they are alright.” They needn’t speak to them, even if the idea of going so far and not saying anything feels strange. He shakes off the idea, head turning to face her and a smile crosses his lips. “I have been walking around numb for so long. You are a fool if you think you have not given me everything I needed to wake up. Wherever we go next, alone will not be part of it.”

Imani chuckled lowly at the man’s assumption. Sure, that was one way of looking at it, but it was not the case. “No…” she replied as she caught her breath and eased into a laid back stance. This healing process was becoming a bitch with each passing second that occurred, but better this than dead right? “We exchanged a few words and came to a…disagreement.” She left it vague. She didn’t trust anyone other than her own pack, family and friends. This was a complete stranger and who knows if he allied with Councilman Maxi-pad. “Both.” she instantaneously replied once Wesley spoke of her attitude. “If it isn’t fucking obvious, I’m in a lot of discomfort.” Nodding at his introduction, she shook her head once more. She refused to let anyone know about her current state. There shouldn’t be any worries or concerns, besides she’ll be fine. “Imani and no sir. I’ll be fine.” At his suggestion, she looked over at the bench across the road and frowned. She couldn’t stay out here, not after what was said and done. “I’d rather not.” she stated at first. “The Animal Hospital I own is a block or two up the street. I’ll somehow get there on my own. Sorry for being a…disturbance I guess.” There was no sincerity to her tone, but she knew she was wasting his time that she didn’t want to be held accountable for keeping him back. “I’m sure you have better things to do rather than this.” 

“Oh no, it is. I suppose I was just fortunate enough before not have been a victim” the vampire admitted with a slight shrug. Crime had been one of those things that had just not happened to her, and being untouched by it for so long made it feel as if it wasn’t ever going to get in her way… until it did. “I believe I could employ someone to perform a tracking spell” she mused out loud, having been more concerned on what the police could do to consider other possibilities. Turning to witches for assistance didn’t sound like a bad idea at all now that Wesley mentioned it. Perhaps it was even wiser to trust others beyond the police force because she hadn’t gotten the feeling that they were at all concerned with her case. With the arsonist still running amok she could only imagine no other case held much importance compared to that one. She had only found help and support from her brother through all this, which she appreciated dearly as they were still getting reacquainted with one another.

She and Tobias had never discussed Lethe in their time together, and while she was certain he did know of the place as she had mentioned it to him in her letters, she had no way of knowing whether he had plans of ever coming to make this place his latest residence. “Well, he did love Germany too much” she admitted with a soft smile. After all their traveling they had always gone back home. She was aware that to avoid suspicion over his agelessness Tobias didn’t go back to the exact same place each time, but his homeland always seemed to call for him regardless. There was something nice about being able to show her work to her brother like this and when he mentioned he recognized one of the pieces. “You have a good eye too” she praised with a smile that even reached her eyes. “All of these,” she said as she gestured towards the pieces that she had crafted herself “contain elements from jewelry that I owned or that people close to me did”. Upon closer inspection Wesley would surely begin recognizing elements of some of Mother’s necklaces, of rings owned by Father, of brooches and pendants their brothers had worn. Subtly, discreetly, the jewelry Isolde had made contained pieces of her history.

Once upon a time Isolde had thought her life was meant to follow a certain path, but time had taught her that wasn’t the case. She could make her own path. And in spite of the hardships she’d gone through, she was happy with the way her life had turned out to be thus far. “It is for me as well” she told her brother with genuine warmth in her tone. “It certainly is different from what the girl I was all those centuries ago thought my time on this world would- it has been a far longer life to begin with”.she added with a brief and composed chuckle “but it’s been a good life. And it’s getting better now”. How could it not, after all, having her brother back in it.

"A learning experience then." Lethe has treated her well in the past, he supposes the town can't be all bad if its kept her afloat for centuries. He nods, wondering who she'll find for it. "Do you know many people in town? Maybe you are friendly enough with a witch who can help out, and if you track down the jewelry, maybe it will lead to the culprit." Wesley finds it strange the police can't use the same technique in their investigation, but he knows very few of them are interested in a small robbery when, left and right, fires leave other businesses as embers. In comparison, Isolde has been lucky, even if he hates the idea of someone coming back to try again. "Do you think your robber and this arsonist running amok are one and the same?" He questions, a worried frown tugging at his face, drawing his attention away from the jewelry. They have centuries to catch up on, and it doesn't surprise Wesley how many things he has to wonder about when it comes to her. He almost wishes Tobias had come to Lethe, if only to see another familiar face, if only to make Lethe seem more like a home he hasn't had since leaving his first one. "Some people long to return home. Nostalgia, or comfort, or otherwise, I cannot say why. Did you... ever go home again?" It's a delicate subject, but Wesley longs to know about his home and what became of it. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't anywhere major, even if their family was.

His attention returns to the jewelry as she speaks, crouching down to examine some of them more closely. A part of him aches, pieces of her life staring back at him. His life, too, and yet he feels quite apart from it, like a stranger standing in his place. "I have forgotten about so much of our lives. It has always been hard to picture it, I did not want to imagine you all moving on without me. Were they happy? Did you see them?" He asks, looking up to her, away from the pieces of jewelry which hurt him as much as it makes him miss them. It isn't any easier to see her, and not be reminded of the time lost, but they'll put it behind them, one step at a time. “I like to think Peter had a whole slew of children following at his feet, and Roger with a fair share of scandals before he settled down. I hope they had good lives, and long ones.” Wesley smiles, just a little, eyes growing distant. His imagination for his family had been simple: happy. "Maybe even family still out there. Once in a while, I thought about tracking them down, seeing if I could find any kids of yours or theirs. Thought I’d recognize their faces, but it was a long time ago and, well, it did seem like an encounter more likely to hurt than not.”

Tired and in pain, Imani’s hand began to loosen as she was no longer applying as much pressure as she should. Leaning back against the wall, she closed her eyes and shrugged in response to the man’s question. “For my family, to keep them safe.” It was not only a typical response, but a reasonable one too. Lethe is considered a safe haven for all supernatural, despite it being on the contrary. “Well aren’t you observant.” she mumbled as she looked down at her wounds. They were still slowly healing and it annoyed her that she can’t even get up to leave right this instant. 

“Wow how fucking considerate, I am forever indebted to your kind gesture of not taking me to said hospital.” the werewolf sarcastically said with an eye roll. She knew she was being uncooperative, but she hated being in this predicament, especially to a complete stranger. However, after hearing about him serving in the war, a bit of guilt came over her as his intentions were clear, he was only trying to help her. “Thank you…for your service.” The fact that he was dead, well it sucks for him seeing as he had to relive the horrors that this world had gone through. Sighing in defeat, she was kind of glad to hear that nothing serious was happening to her. “Yeah, I am. I’m Imani by the way, you have a name mister?”

Date: December 31, 2020 Time: 8:30PM Location: Winter Festival

@ninaismail​

The bracelet on his wrist is irritating. He isn’t one for jewelry of any types, and it reminds him of the tight, itchy cuffs he’s required to wear to official functions, but short of wiggle his wrist, Wesley ignores it, eyes drifting over the festival silently. “I have hopes this will go better than the last one,” he states blandly to Nazanin, eyes narrowing on the snowflakes drifting down and landing on his dark beanie. The sky is grey, but the snow is fake. “You would think people would be tired of the snow, too, I have heard the power went out for a fair few of you?” His house has electricity, yes, but he uses the majority of it so infrequently that he didn’t notice the entire time. Likely Nazanin, who did not have the luxury of ignoring the cold as it permeated its way through town, noticed if she had issues. Snow lands on her head, clinging to her dark hair. Wesley studies it for a long moment, though it dissipates only a moment after, and he blinks himself free at the uproarious squeals from the ice-skating rink on their left. “Do you skate, Nazanin?” They might not have seen each other a great deal during the mess of winter, but he did not forget their conversation about names. “I have not since...” A pause, as he thinks about it for a second, sorting through the centuries and then ending on a shrug, as if he cannot recall. “A frost fair on the Thames, perhaps. I do not remember.”

“Well that’s just fucking great, why the fuck is anyone even here?” Imani knew the answer to that question, but she wasn’t the type to reveal her true self. What goes on in the Kingston pack, stays within the inner circle. Should anyone deviate or cross her, well they wouldn’t make it far in life. She and Truman would make sure of it. “Y’all are annoying as fuck.” she truthfully stated. “Can’t even completely die, let alone the lie detection crap. Y’all don’t know when to quit.” He had to be old and by old, lived a long ass life, especially with how he spoke. Even though he was trying to help her, she wasn’t going to hold back on her opinions. This town didn’t do her right to begin with, not after what happened tonight. Clenching her jaw, she just sat there and almost refused to answer his question. Instead she shot back with, “I’m tired.” She did look exhausted and the fight itself was draining, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit to both. “Does it matter a this point? I’m not budging and I don’t plan to.” 

Eyeing the jacket, Imani sighed in defeat and took it as she pressed it against her wound. “Thanks.” she murmured. She had to be cooperative if she wanted to live. “I did. I made sure my point was fucking clear. They shouldn’t have laid a hand on me in the first place.” Taking a good look at him, she narrowed her gaze and asked, “So what are you? A cop or medical personnel of some sort? This isn’t some good Samaritan shit you’re pulling.” 

“I got drafted for this town, I can’t say why anyone else chose it. Why did you then?” he counters, more focused on gauging how bad her wound is from the look on her face. Humans are easier to figure out, the lot of them will fall over from the strangest things, but Wesley squints at her. Werewolf, probably, with the healing. Fast, but not fast enough. Her comments elicit a quiet laugh. “I would say you are one of many with that opinion, but I have not met a great many people in town to tell. Few are blunt, they prefer pretty words and underhanded compliments from what I can tell.”

“That’s probably true” the vampire smiled softly, since now she knew Wesley had mostly kept to himself for a very long time in spite of being so close to Lethe. “But I never really was in need to have this work done before”. The old cameras had already been installed when she bought the establishment back in the late 90’s. His question made her shoulders slouch a little for a moment, but Isolde was quick to compose herself as she answered “No. I’ve talked to Mr. Ulrich a few times, since he’s the officer in charge of my case, but-” There was a brief pause and Isolde shook her head lightly. “I’m not getting my hopes up”. Looking for her pieces of jewelry at pawn shops wasn’t a bad idea, but she was under the impression that if the police couldn’t solve the case and get her precious pieces back, neither could she. Her lips curved into a gentle smile, though, remembering fondly the event Wesley talked about. True, Father had been beside himself with rage when that theft took place, but it wasn’t unpleasant to think back to their family. And that little smile actually brightened when he offered to be there during the process of hiring a security guard for Infinity. “Of course, brother”. Even before his death, her twin had always had a special insight into people’s hearts, a delicate trait that only Isolde ever treasured in him. Maybe that was why it had always been so easy to trust him without question.

“He was good to me always. Even in the end” she assured him with a gentle nod so Wesley wouldn’t believe Tobias had ever been anything less than an absolute gentleman towards her. Love was never lacking in her relationship with her former husband, it never faltered in all their centuries together. Both of them had simply grown, changed, and eventually that led the to different paths. “No, I haven’t but we have exchanged a few letters in the past hundred years”. In spite of newer technologies, they still relied on pens and paper for nostalgic reasons. There was something beautiful in seeing his handwriting every couple of decades and knowing that someone that had been so crucial to her life was well. Her attention went to the pieces that had been spared. “Not all. Just the ones on this side” she said to her brother as she unlocked a glass case to their left to pull out a pair of earrings and a pendant of white gold and pearl to hand over to her brother. On the cases adjacent to them rested more bracelets, rings, and many more delicate necklaces. All of them the result of her work. “And then ones over there are the ones that belonged to my personal collection or that I’ve bought from jewelers around the world” she explained with a tilt of her head, as that was the division inside the shop. Half her work, half the craft of other talented artists.

His last words brought a small crease in her brow for a moment but as he smiled so she did she. “We all make our own path, Wesley” she said as she reached up to touch the side of his face affectionately. “And your path won’t look like anyone else’s. What you have done is no less important or worthy than what I have done”. It sounded like he hadn’t always felt at ease with the way he existed now, with that he’d done, but she could tell there was some enjoyment in what he did now. “I’m proud of you, you know?”. In her eyes her brother had always been more remarkable than he was ever given credit for and she was truly proud of the man that stood before her now.

Confusion crossed his face. “What, is crime not common in this town?” He was a hermit, sure, and he didn’t venture into any of the nearby towns enough to know their crime rate, but he did recall their youth. Theft was common then, maybe the result of their wealth compared to the other folks in their hometown, or maybe just the desperation of the times. With how antique Nina made the town seem, he thought it would be common. His hand settled on her shoulder, squeezing briefly as he moved from one display case to the next one. “It hasn’t been too long, we can still find something. If not the culprit then the jewelry itself, have you seen if there are any witches who can help? I am not sure the limits of what they can do, truthfully.” His faith in the police department was slim to none, but Wesley had always been that way when it came to people investigating anything. Incompetence had no time limit truly. He smiled, relieved. “Thank you. Between the two of us, we can find somebody who will fit it well,” he said. He didn’t expect her to say no, but they were still finding their footing, were they not?

The bits and pieces she told him about Tobias were starting to create a bigger picture of the man, and he inclined his head. “You made it through the other side as friends then. I am surprised he is not in town, too? I figured he would have enjoyed a place to rest his head after centuries of traveling.” It was what had led Wesley to the west coat after the Revolutionary War: a place to sit without running, and a place to rest when his heart was weary of the bloodshed. Wesley watched her pull out the earrings and pendants, holding them gently in his hands. He smiled, looking up from them. “I am not surprised you were capable of making things like this, you have an eye for fine things - and a good memories. This pendant, it looks like something I saw Peter wearing a long time ago,” he admitted, thumb brushing over it carefully. He hadn’t thought about his brothers in a long time, and it brought a sigh from him as he handed the pieces back. Nostalgia was painful, sometimes.

Her touch was calming, as it had always been. The two of them had been able to read each other at a glance once upon a time, and time hadn’t changed all of it. “Thank you, Isolde,” he said after a moment, letting out a breath. “I suppose this is not the life either of us thought we would have back in the day either, and it need only be better than that. Which it is for me,” he admitted. 

Imani coughed out a sardonic chuckle, “Thanks captain obvious.” However, the man’s next set of words caused her to glare at him as she frankly didn’t give a fuck if she couldn’t own it. She wanted no company and she just wanted to lay there in peace. “Can’t a bitch bleed out in peace.” she muttered under her breath as she positioned herself further up against the wall. “You speak from experience.” Imani pointed out at first as she arched a brow when she spoke of dying individuals. “No one, I’m fine on my own.” No way in hell was she going to worry Tru, not to mention out her pack. She was an alpha, this little mishap was something that came with the territory. “What are you a lich?” It would be the only explanation for him to sound so confident in not getting injured. “You talk too much. Look since I can’t supposedly lay a hand on you, you can walk away now and leave me be…” She looked away and took a deep breath before saying, “I’ll be fine.”

date: november 2020 time: late night location: an alleyway

Talk about bad timing. She was doing great not being in the limelight when it came to wolf business, but it seems she thought too soon as she was caught in a scuffle with Maksim’s pack. They questioned why Imani and her brother hadn’t made a direct move over to their side, moreover they mentioned that one of their wolves didn’t return from one of the many full moons they had. The accusations did cause Imani’s anger to boil, but she remained unfazed as she didn’t want any of the heat directed to her and her pack. Therefore, playing dumb and nonchalant was her approach on things. Clearly, they were unimpressed with the reaction she’d given. Of course they wanted her to react, but she stood her ground and only fought once they laid a hand on her. 

The fight wasn’t fair as she was by herself, but she was able to break a few bones and faces here and there, before half running and half limping off. Her injuries weren’t as grave where she needed to get to the hospital, but they were unbearable in a sense where she couldn’t head back to her home by herself. Further, the healing process would take longer seeing as she was beaten up by more than one werewolf. Flopping onto the ground of an alleyway, she propped herself up against the wall and focused on regaining her breathing. She was exhausted and opted to perhaps lay there until sunrise. However, her senses picked up on an individual approaching and she immediately called them out. “Get your own alleyway. This one is mine.” 

@wesley-allard​

There was something nice about working on the repairs of her shop alongside her brother, as if building something back to its former glory somehow helped them rebuild their own relationship. Though not as it once had been, but open to discover what it could be now. “They might just notice the missing pieces” she responded, hands resting on her hips as she looked around her shop. Infinity certainly looked as good as new, but the greatest damage had been done to her collection, after all. “I got the new cameras last Thursday but they haven’t been installed yet. Do you know someone who could install them?”. If Wesley happened to know someone who could get the job done, she would trust her brother’s recommendation. If not, she could surely look for options online and pick the one with the better reviews for their work. “I think I will hire security, though. I don’t want to risk having this happen again”. Having a guard at night looking after her shop was something she could definitely afford, after all.

After her brother returned from storing the cleaning supplies in place, Isolde touched his arm and smiled. A silent ‘thank you’ for all his help in these past days. She had a Nespresso machine to offer coffee to her clients and she wished she could at least offer a cup to her brother now, but she was aware that liches didn’t really eat or drink. “It was because of Tobias” she admitted with composure, though her eyes did drift down for a second. “He liked giving me necklaces and bracelets each year for our anniversary, and he would aways get rare pieces from all over the world. I inevitably ended up truly appreciating the craftsmanship and artistry behind jewelry making because of that”. It was the work put into each special piece that caught her attention more than the monetary value of the piece itself. “I guess you could say it became a pastime of mine to study the history of each piece I owned, its design, the process and the work that went into making them. And well, something serious stemmed from that hobby. I began to learn how to create jewelry a couple hundred years ago and I turned it into a job here”.

“Think you know the town a tad more than me, but there was a shop I passed on the way here, it seemed the type of place to know how?” he questions, unsure, frowning at the display cases. They might be shiny, and new, but there is nothing in them. “Have they made any headway on who did it? We can get some of it back, perhaps they have pawned it. Remember, we had someone back in the day who tried to steal mother’s jewelry, I do not think I have seen father so mad.” Except perhaps with Wesley, but he doesn’t mention this. He did think about Isolde’s words upon meeting, and he’s trying in bits and pieces to let some of his father’s teachings fade from his head. It isn’t easy, and he frowns thinking of it now, but he’s trying. “We will find someone then. Let me sit in on the interviews? I can point out if they are lying, one of the good things of dying.”

Wesley has wanted to question her on Tobias. He only vaguely recalls the man, some memories hazier than others, but he must be something if Isolde would consider an eternity with him. “He sounds like he was good to you during that time. Have you seen him at all since you separated?” he questions, curious if he’ll run into the man in Lethe as well. “Have you made all of this then?” Wesley gestures to the remaining pieces in the shop, some of which were spared the robbers sticky fingers. It still makes him grimace imagining someone running amok of his twin’s shop, but nothing to be done about it now. “You’ve done a great deal more with your immortality than most people. I have some of the scars, I am a lot better at fighting than I was before, the other benefit of being dead, but I only have the farm otherwise. I do not know why I chose to grow food... as someone who cannot eat.” He doesn’t question it anymore, he enjoys his work. He shoots her a lopsided smile. “You were always the wise one.”

@isolde-allard​

They were fixing up the last couple pieces before Isolde’s reopening, and he couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed something as mundane as cleaning off glass display cases. “This couldn’t have been a cheap repair, but it looks good as new, I don’t think any of your customers will tell the difference,” Wesley said to her, crouched beside one of the cases and eyeing the jewelry inside, shiny under its artificial light. “Have you got your security cameras fixed yet? I think there is someone in town who does things like that, or maybe someone to watch the place overnight? People will do anything for a bit of coin.” He would volunteer himself, but his farm took up too much of his time as it was, let alone helping out for several hours every night. With a last scrub of a smudge on the glass, Wesley straightened up, taking the cleaning supplies back into the cabinet she had pointed out on his last visit. It was a little awkward, still trying to make centuries of separation work under entirely different dynamics, but Wesley felt lighter whenever Isolde was around, so he thought it was going well enough. “What made you get into jewelry? I remember you trying pieces of it as kids, but I must have been too oblivious to notice your passion for it.”