“Repose-toi, tu es en sécurité,” the words drip through parted lips. She relaxes on the floor in front of him as he wakes - basking in the warmth of the fireplace. “How cruel the world can be,” she begins, finally looking up to him, “How are you feeling?” She waits for his reply until an interruption pulls her attention.

A statuesque man with a crooked smile and dark eyes - both of which did a great service for his tragic lack of substance - appears before them in suit and tie. “Mademoiselle Roşu, a word.” His eyes dart between Esmé and Mateo and when her gaze does not falter he continues, “The man,” he whispers, “he has departed this transitory life.” She cocks an eyebrow and nods, “To the next world then.” He stands still until she flicks her wrist, “Hurry,” then he disappears.

She sips from what appears to be a glass of wine - though thicker - darker. “You must be exhausted, dear stranger.”

@yesmateono​

It always felt murky, the morning after. Little clips and pieces of horrible things he’d done, beautiful things he’d seen, things his human mind could never understand. The only thing that ever felt real, however, was the pain. And the guilt. That’s what he woke up to, only able to focus on the hurt. There’s a weird sharp, metallic smell around him, and what vaguely registered as French. ...Did he run all the way to France? No, wait that’s ridiculous, there’s, like.. water. And that awful wall-- that he could remember: furiously throwing his form at it last night, scratching at it, unable to understand why he couldn’t run. 

“Mmh-” Mateo rolled over, curling in on himself, and registered heat near him. Slowly he opened his eyes and saw fire- fire place. Oh. He sat up rather suddenly, taking in the room, turning, and- there she was. “You? Why-- where- what the fuck-” God, he hated morning-afters. “Where am I? God, it-- stinks in here.”

“You’re no kid. Not anymore, at least.” she replies in short. “But also not scared and not bold,” she repeats it under her breath. “There are so many things you’re not, it seems, in control being one of them.” She turns away from him, practiced and poised steps back to the pathway. A piece of her heart ached for him. She knew full well the only reason to run from a problem was if you planned on leading it to a solution. And he fought it so. But Esmé, like glass, so smooth yet sharp to touch knew she was not well for his world and even this one. “Enjoy your ball, dear stranger,” she glances back, “I trust you can find your way home safe and sound?”

All in all this was no different from any other day trapped here; she was as confusing and tiresome as everything else. His questions would still be left unanswered, even if he was brave enough to ask-- or smart enough to know what to ask. So, she left, and Mateo is lost, kicking the ball gently. “I wouldn’t trust that, no,” he laughed, though the comment is more made to himself.

Michele was walking along, minding her own business, when she saw someone who looked vaguely familiar jump a fence into someone’s yard, landing hard on the other side. She winced in sympathy before hurrying over to the fence. “Hey!” she called through the links, “aren’t you Kosmo’s roommate?” That’s where she knew him from! What was he doing trespassing on this person’s lawn, though? Highly suspicious.

Ah! There it was, rolled under a bush. Mateo snatched it and is just about to dip when he hears someone call from beyond the fence. He tucked the ball under his arm, wedged to his hip. “Uh, roommate. Couch surfer. Lovable leech. Yeah,” he said, making his way towards the fence. She was vaguely familiar, maybe. Or maybe he just liked the fact that she felt safe like Mo did. “You a friend of his?”

“Once so bold and now so broody,” she sighs. “Have I pinched a nerve or do you dislike others playing with your balls?” Her languid limbs have a feline quality as she nears him. And he’s so young and beautiful she could cry. “Life has certainly been unkind to you to fear me so. Or, do you fear yourself more?” Like a great contortionist she shifts from smiles to an overbearing sadness, “How may I make reparations?”

She stepped forward, and he stepped back, keeping his eyes alert and on her. Didn’t trust her. Not sure why, but his gut didn’t like this- it didn’t tell him to run, however. “I’m not scared,” he retorted, and immediately tried to make his body language match. He set a foot on top of the ball. “Or- bold, or whatever. Kids don’t lose balls in- whatever European country side you’re from?”

Mattie was humming softly to herself as was busy with her garden, although she was always around flowers in the shop, she tended her own every day. She was tending to some of her favourite flowers when she heard the sudden sound of a crashing noise. Putting her clippers down, she moved away from the flowers and went to inspect the noise. Looking around,she couldn’t help but notice a ball that had appeared in the garden. 

“Now,where did you come from?” She pondered,picking up the ball before she noticed somebody. “I take it this is yours?” 

It couldn’t be a good omen, he assumed, when he hit the ground awkwardly and crashed into a rose bush. Cursing, Mateo fought his way free and stumbled further into the garden-- it was beautiful, and of course a beautiful woman was waiting there, ‘cause why wouldn’t he trespass on a beautiful lady’s property, bleeding and yelling at rose thorns, when she had a weapon at hand? Of course! “I’m so sorry, that’s- yes, it’s mine.”  The fragrant flowers were almost nauseating he could smell them so intensely, but underneath he picked up something that couldn’t be distracted from, like a gut trigger- that she was bad. Less beautiful now, more dangerous. And bothersome. “Uh-- you can just, like, roll it over, I’ll get out’a your hair.” 

“I wouldn’t think so pendejo–” Kos said before stepping towards the couch and shooing Mat to the side before plopping right down next to him. He grabbed onto the other controller, leaning back comfortably. “Super Smash Bros. And I’m going with Princess Peach, so you’d better bring out the big guns. I’m hungry.” He reached behind him, grabbing his stele from his back pocket. He wasn’t going to lose against wolf reflexes. Grabbing the collar of his shirt, he pulled down to reveal his dexteritas rune, quickly activating it before the other could say anything against it. “Okay… Ya ready?” 

Like a total amateur, Mateo’s eyes are ont he menu, switching to the appropriate game and picking his character (Snake, obviously), and by the time he’s looking back at his roomie it’s too late. “Hey- Mo!” he complained, smacking his chest. “Ya that scared to lose? Fuckin’ cheater.” Mateo snagged another controller off the coffee table and tossed it in his lap, quietly hoping it’s the controller with the sticky buttons. “Let’s get this over with, princess.” 

Sadie’s cottage was small. But no one had told her that, with the amount of things she packed into it. She’d never really had a place of her own before, the brownie usually living with the family she was caring for. She was starting to discover that when she had her own place, she was quite the hoarder.

Her garden was no different, though there was a organisation to the sprouted greenery. Several rows of vegetable gardens were lined up, though their contents were overgrowing, vegges and herbs all crammed in. 

The brunette was stepping outside when the ball came flying over the fence, landing in the grass. Curious, for sure. The brownie was putting down her tea mug on one of the scattered little decorative tile tables when a guy appeared around the corner, making her jump nearly a foot in the air, hand coming to her heart. “Oh my god, you scared me.” She breathed, shaking her head, slightly amused.

“Shit. Shitshitshit. Sorry,” he mumbled to the earth, trampling over what looked like meticulously cared for foliage while getting out of the garden. He’s stepping around something that looks spiky when his foot catches on a vine, and barreling through the rest of the garden he goes, popping out from the corner and startling himself with her shock. 

Despite his initial reaction, he doesn’t feel the gut-chill he’s felt bumping into other residents around town. Everyone had a hint of evil about them- at least that’s what he thought the feeling was- but she didn’t strike him as someone malicious. “I am- so sorry, uh, ma’am, I just--” Ah, he pointed to the ball. “That. Sorry. That’s mine. I, uh- I mighta squished a tulip back there. Sorry.”

@yesmateono​

He’d been walking back and forth behind the couch for a while now, eyes glued onto his roommate sitting there, with his back facing him. What a stupidly broad set of shoulders Mateo had. Not to mention his exposed nape. Kosmo wondered for a moment, how great of a feeling it would be to sneak up behind him and give him the biggest smack. How high the other would jump. How red his skin would become. Gosh, the image in his head almost made Kos giggle. Instead, he inhaled quickly, and opted to walk to the front and right in front of the TV that was showing Mateo’s favorite video game. “Listen up, loser!” He crossed his arms. “One match. You and me. Winner picks dinner. Loser pays.” 

Mateo vaguely registered that Kosmo was behind him, and after living here for (not even) so long, it wouldn’t be hard to guess he was planning something devious; none of that mattered now though, not when he was so close to destroying this opponent, just lining up one last shot for the kill, and-!

 “Hey! Dude! You know I can’t pause this!” he complained, leaning around him to see the screen. Too late, he missed his chance, and a fat You Lost! was taunting him. “Damn you,” he said, tossing the controller beside him while he slouched back, attention finally on him. “Fine, whatever. Better get your wallet ready, you’re dead.” No, seriously, Mateo had to win, he hadn’t worked in months. 

The soccer ball rolls directly in front of her stilettos - two red bottoms firmly planted in the lawn of the old manor. “Trespassing for this? We must go over your risk-reward barometer. It seems,” she begins. The wind changes direction and she catches the scent of wet dog, “It seems yours needs to be sent back for repairs.”

The vampire had become accustomed to these sort of meetings in her years of afterlife. The scent never seemed to get better, but her tolerance had. “Still don’t know your own strength then? How long has it been?” Her lips curve into a smile so sweet it ached as she picks up the soccer ball and offers it out. It almost looks like an olive branch. Almost. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite. Cross my heart.”

It almost felt like a movie: her, appearing from the shadows; her, in stupid stilettos of all things, despite the constant muddy landscape; her, a stranger, condescending and flaring Mateo’s nerves. It wasn’t even what she was saying, exactly, but staring at her made him... annoyed, to start. And wary too. What was she?

“....You’re not supposed to use your hands,” is his only dumb reply, inching closer so he can knock the ball to the ground with the heel of his hand, and kick it (and himself) back to a safe distance. 

And so his ball went flying, way past where he wanted it to, and right into someone's yard. It'd been over a year now, but Mateo still had zero grip on his strength. 

It isn't like he had a million soccer balls to throw away, nor the money to buy more, nor the knowledge of where he'd even find one in this place, so that only left him with one option. 

High fence but doable, no signs of Do Not Enter I Am A Witch And Will Eat You, but.. could still be a possibility, couldn't it? Hands on his hips, he surveyed the yard and the house for anything evil. Maybe they weren't even home. In and out, two minutes tops. He got a bit of a running start and clambered up the links, hopping smoothly over to a crash landing on the other side. 

Now where was that ball?

We have been waiting for a while, but MATEO ALIKA was finally spotted in the village today. People heard whispers that they are a WEREWOLF that is hellbent on staying away from the veils. Will they succeed? Only time can tell. Until then we will keep a close eye on them as they listen to SENSUALIDAD BY BAD BUNNY/J BALVIN.

HELLO HI HOWDY my name is Casper and this is a big dopey puppy Mateo!! Here’s just some lil facts while i work up the brain power to write a real bio lol

Mateo was born (98) and raised in Miami, Florida with no knowledge of his supernatural-ity, had a fairly regular upbringing with a single mother.

Had his gene triggered when he was 22 and at a music festival in the UK. Idiot was driving while impaired, had a hit and run that did result in death, his anger at himself triggered the change. (were goin with vampire diaries species branch)

He’s mostly been on his own since then: too ashamed to be around humans, too alienated to find his own kind

he does NOT want to be a werewolf, is generally terrified of his own strength, constantly remorseful, really doesnt want to hurt people and always feel guilty for his lack of control :D

has a pretty good handle on his rage, but can still be pushed to the limit with minimal effort

life of the party

LOVES soccer 

WANTED CONNECTIONS

an older more stable werewolf to show him the ropes and maybe learn some self control

puppy love!! unrequited is great he will be Relentlessly Soft

party pals- world ending why not get fucked up

lots of Bros

fwb cuz Duh

other supernatural creatures to Scare Him

other supernatural creatures to Make Him brave!