ℂ𝕃𝔸𝕀𝕄𝕊 𝕠𝕗 𝔻𝕆𝕄𝔸𝕀ℕ-wolf/witches/vamps-ALWAYS OPEN

[འབྲོག་ཁྱི]

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─────── 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 ─── 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐃 ──────────────────────⯮
──────────────────────────────────────────── 𝙒𝙀𝙍𝙀𝙒𝙊𝙇𝙁 ──────⯮

LOCATION; cafe ─ TAGGING; Johann, Lyall, Dakota ─ MENTIONED; -- ─ WC; 1,032

A smile, the kind that seemed to bring out the cupid's bow at the crest of his mouth, settled onto Johann's lips, and although, on her outermost level of cantankerous awareness, Carson found it absurd, it worked like an unobtrusive salve, allaying her temper and smoothing back her hackles as if she had been an ill-behaved dog, bristling at nothing more than its own reflection in a pond. Most importantly, it gave her the excuse to marginally let down her defenses and settle into Johann's company, even if she kept the table between them as if it were the physical guarantee of being allowed to keep someone at arm's length. And if he were to come at her with any of that mushy pack love stuff, she would find a fire-poker (or an adequately sharp stick) and defend herself as if her life depended on it.
indentindentindentHis response provoked a huff, a wryly amused and perhaps even slightly surprised sound from the back of her throat, and she silently, absently, tapped the tabletop with her left hand's fingertips. If she were someone to consider such things, much less admit them to anyone, she might have mentioned that Johann had possibly the smallest ego of them all, even when he could have afforded a sizeable one. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders faintly, and the fabric of her coat gave a hushed rustle as it shifted, caught only by her ears in the steady noise of the cafe interior. When her shoulders settled again, they were somewhat more relaxed, and her body language less poised to defend. To restate, Carson had never actually been concerned about anyone's reputation, so Johann's inference was nothing more than a source of amusement for her.
indentindentindentHowever, his conspiratorial dive closer was what truly snagged Carson's attention, and she turned her eyes back to his, even when the words themselves were more a source of puzzlement than an understanding found in some manner of inside joke. Was it nothing more than a knowingly worded barb to catch her interest and have her wading into the bustling crowd outside in his company, or had the alpha fumbled and dropped his marbles somewhere among the stalls outside? It was tentative, and Carson herself wasn't even certain why she was smiling, but the corner of her lips quirked up, much in the way one smiles when they are uncertain whether they are in on the joke or possibly the subject of it, but the answer seems irrelevant.

indentindentindentThe conversation happening at the back of the room was a matter that Carson, in all of her foresight and prudence, might have been willing to dismiss so that she could instead focus on less unpleasant things, considering she thought of it, at worst, as nothing more than an unfortunate coincidence that had the potential to bring some unpleasant yet inevitably harmless scrutiny down on her and her kin. Yet it clearly concerned Johann far more than herself, because his posture had gone rigid and the smile had faded from his features in favour of settling them into harsher, worried angles. In the end, it was his reaction that diverted Carson's attention more than the conversation itself, and she regarded him with expectant eyes, inching again closer to reticence than she had been a moment before.
indentindentindentYet the sudden severity in his eyes was not something Carson could have prepared herself for in such a short time, and were she not so concerned with keeping her reactions to herself, she might have flinched under his glare. The situation had flipped in the blink of an eye, and Carson could feel the wolf pacing in the corner it had abruptly found itself in, and baring the whites of its teeth in uncertain flashes. It was instinct, but when Johann turned his eyes away from her, she knew he was about to confirm that sore fear of hers about getting close and vulnerable with anyone or anything. Was the booth getting smaller? Was that even possible? Carson tensed, as if to take a punch, but it was not enough, because his accusation sliced like a knife into the bare skin of her many insecurities ─ his words were veiled, but it did an awful little to lessen the impact.
indentindentindentThe booth turned into a different place in another time, the conversation too close to what had happened then. Cassandra had accused her of carelessness, of endangering the quiet life of their family. Johann had no right to ─. Guilt tightened Carson's throat and stoked the animal instinct to flee before the walls could close in. She stood so abruptly that the table between them trembled where it had been riveted to the floor. Her skin was prickling, shivering under the force of the wolf that was baying to leap out, but even in her heightened state, she knew that she could not let it happen in the middle of a busy cafe. She would only be proving Johann's point.
indentindent"I didn't see a thing," she hissed from between clenched teeth, even when she could feel curious eyes begin to turn and burn holes into her back. "And I don't care who you think you are, but I don't have to stand here defending myself to you."

indentindentindentCarson wheeled around so that she could leave, but she had been so caught up in the tension of the moment that she had missed the peal of the bell and the arrival of Lyall and Dakota. She nearly collided into the latter, but managed to avoid it and merely passed her with a harsh brush. She granted neither the beta nor Lyall a glance as she made a beeline for the door and spent the last of her patience on not tearing the handle from the wood when the bell made its tinging announcement to the patrons. She burst out into the cool evening air, roughly shoving her hands back into her pockets and heading along the sidewalk with fuming steps without a destination in mind. People flowed past her, but she hardly noticed them, as her mind was turned inward to keep herself from shifting right then and there.

[laila,]

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♛ 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓
[ 𝙷𝚄𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚁𝙴𝙲𝙺𝙰𝙶𝙴 ] ── [ 𝚂𝙷𝙴/𝙷𝙴𝚁 ] ── [ 𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙼 ]
➥ location: festival mention: anton, alex tag: carson
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As inconspicuous as she had hoped Sheepers would be, it seems that Luka Lament is no closer to evading capture this evening than she had predicted she would be with such a cunning disguise for her otherwise detectable friend. This, of course, causes her a certain degree of trouble for a plethora of reasons that she is probably best not considering lest she get too deep into her own thoughts and send herself pinwheeling further into her predicament; for now she's probably best just keeping beneath the radar and she's fully aware that she cannot do that with a brilliantly white lamb in her arms. He looks to be recently out of a load of laundry - all fresh pressed and fluffed to perfection, with not a hair out of place other than those that she had so elegantly ruffled in her exchange with tall, dark and gorgeous just a few moments prior. Regardless of his outward appearance she needs to find somewhere to dump him, or perhaps more specifically someone to dump him on because it is certainly not his fault that he's ended up with a criminal and a hellion on the evening of the Harvest Festival, furthermore if someone else is found with him then they'll likely be impounded for the night and she won't miss the Festival again on account of petty theft. It's the perfect crime. All the fun with no actual sheep in her possession to be impounded for and that certainly sits somewhere on the morally correct fence for her, stubborn headed as she is.

Naturally there are a few potential victims for her to consider but then she supposes her would-be friends are as busy with the festival this year as they were with the previous instalment. And besides, Tema would never assist her with a crime, she's all sweet with such a vision and presentation that reminds Luka of a Care Bear or perhaps even a sweet puppy, in fact, Tema Snow herself could be likened to the lamb in her arms and somehow she isn't sure her friend would make the most efficient partner in crime for precisely that reason. Yet that leaves her options further dwindling, wisped out on the air within the blink of an eye in such a fashion that she's reminded of the candles which had lined one of the stalls she passed earlier in the evening and now sits as cold and as dark as any old bit of wax. There's Jayden, who up until recently hasn't questioned any of her less than stellar behaviour but that would put even more of a strain on their friendship that she simply can't risk, besides, just because Jayden hasn't mentioned her crimes before doesn't mean that she won't do if she turns up now. So perhaps a change of pace, one of the new folk in town who - like Alexandria - don't know her enough to say otherwise when she hands them a sunglasses wearing sheep.

If she knew where to find her then Luka's first port of call would be the pretty woodland girl, the one who always looks exhausted by her very existence when she catcalls her in the early hours of the morning but never finds time to actually say a word to her face. The name escapes her, as does Farris most days, but that's a thought for another time as she begins to skirt around the edge of the festival with her heavy boots falling thick and fast against the concrete sidewalk and yet she finds that they're still being muffled by the noise of the square. Alas, no one seems competent enough to care for her little fella until she spots.. well.. a familiar figure to say the least and the much taller man that she is now walking with and Luka decides that she's very limited on who else she can turn to. "Put a good word in for me with the pretty one," her voice is light, swift fingers pulling the beanie from his small head and allowing his two ears to stick up like comically oversized satellites on his skull, "I mean the girl, not that they're not both lovely." He bleats, an agreement if ever she heard one and she quickly jogs to catch up to them, walking alongside them seemingly innocently until she thrusts the little lamb into Anton's arms and then bolts for the hills.

Hah! That'll show them, she thinks. No one is arresting Luka Lament tonight or any other night-- hello. For as bold and boisterous as she is there is one thing about Luka that is inescapable, like a leak in a pirate ship or kryptonite to Superman, eventually and inevitably she will be taken down by it and the whole town will rejoice when Luka's blaze of glory becomes a tiny cinder of what it once was. Carson. Heaven hath opened and spilled angels onto its streets and they manifest in the form of Carson Shepherd - something of a recluse in her own way but nonetheless secretive and beautiful and everything Luka is convinced she needs in life and they've never even met, in fact, unlike Farris she has never even seen this woman before but you would be a liar to tell her she's not in love. Wherever she's headed she seems determined, perhaps in a twist of fate that unspecified location could be head-on into true love, now wouldn't that be a surprise. Jogging to quickly catch up with her, Luka makes a simple pirouette on the heel of her boot and comes to stand face-to-face with the stranger and immediately blocking her path.

She whistles crudely, eyes shamelessly roaming the pretty woman as she flashes her a pearly white smile, "Heyyy, beautiful, ain't you a sight for sore eyes."

[Wallflower11]

𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙎𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙝
| Location - Cabin | tagged/interacting - Witches |
☯

The playful ribbing from his coven mates helped relieve his insecurities from earlier in the morning. He rolled his eyes at Bobbie smiling as he received a playful shove. "Ah yes, my two most important features, being pretty and Bite." He remarked turning to Farris with a grin. "I'm not using my powers to get you free stuff, as much fun as it would be I doubt it would earn us very many brownie points with the locals." He added.

While waiting for Bobbie and Farris to be ready to leave for the festival Harlow went to the kitchen to grab some snacks to bring for Bite and Himself. After successfully pocketing a granola bar and some jerky for Bite, stuffing an apple in his mouth, he decided to go wait outside with Will. Making sure to pat down his pockets to make sure he had his wallet before he left. He was being truthful when he said he wasn't going to get the others free stuff, didn't mean he wouldn't pay for the stuff though, he had plenty of cash to burn. Spending the money of the people he hated always made any day better, especially when it was on people he liked.

By the time he got outside Will had wandered around to the side of the house inspecting the forest with an attention and wisdom Harlow wished he could understand. Not wishing to disturb the coven head he hung back on the porch until Farris came bustling out the door with her bag overfilled with her regular supplies. There were things about the way Farris was especially in her preparation and observation skills that reminded Harlow of other hunters he had worked with. In another world, Farris would've made a great hunter, not that he would wish that life on anyone.

Bobbie came out soon after her eye-catching hair down from the bun it had previously been in. Rolling his eyes he grumbled a bit at her remark of predicting the outcomes of games, a smile still painting his face in the upturned corners of his lips. "I'm ready whenever you all are." He offered. Bite pacing around the group, like some sort of herding dog keeping it's flock.

Edited

[Ashton_99]

⭅☘⭆Wᵢₗₗₐₘᵢₙₑ Bₗₐₖₑ⭅☘⭆
☘ Witch Coven Head ☘ Location: Festival ☘ Tags: Witches ☘

The walk into town was pleasant to Will. Nature was her wheelhouse for a reason. Never the less, she let Farris lead the group, taking up the rear of the troupe to make sure no one wandered off and got lost. The light was settling down into dusk. Soon it would be only stars and the moon.

It was beautiful. The bustle of people wasn't her thing but the thrum of life was something she could appreciate. She eyed the heart of the festival, the aroma of baked goods and all of things from the dark earth brought here to be sold was tempting pull into the labyrinth of stalls. If her sense wasn't misinforming her, Willamine was sure she could find her missing ingredients here. If she could gather all of them tonight her more permeant protection wards would be up and running by sunset tomorrow. Her eyes jumped from scanning the stalls to Farris when she spoke. She made a conceding noise in the back of her throat. "Yeah I guess you did make a good find this time. Don't push it though, Denver's style is far superior." She paused and looked back over the rows of stalls before scanning her people.

Will didn't do 'authority' very often, at least not in the typical way, but here she was making an executive decision. "We're not splitting up. We don't know the area and I don't want you ransacking some poor soul for all of their cinnamon rolls alone." Her eyes darted to Bobbie and Harlow, "Let's get her some food first then we can do what you two want." The coven head herded her group towards the nearest stall that smelt like syrupy sugar. She was mindful of Bite, "And of course we can find something for you too." Weaving through the growing crowd, Will couldn't help but study the people she filtered by. Something was haggering her enjoyment of the feeling around her. It was pulling on the thread of positive energy like she pulled a loose sweater thread. Fine with letting the sugary treats pass her by, Will stuck around but gravitated to a stall across the walk way. Bones. All sorts of bones from skulls to femurs to ribs where displayed among the leather and pelts the tall, hearty woman in the stall was selling.

The smile Will put on was serene and mellow. "Hello, would you by chance have any bear claws?"

The redhead stalled for a moment, surprised by her sudden appearance and request. Still her smile was wide and perfect for selling wares. "Hi! I sure do, so long as you don't mean the baked kind- just let me-," The woman began sorting through her display. Her eyes kept tracking back to Will who was the epitome of calm and collected. "Sorry, I don't mean to be blunt but you're not from around here right?"

"I'm not, my family and I just moved out here."

"Ah that explains it, we've had a lot of new folks moving to town lately." The redhead had glanced over her shoulder when Will motioned back and said family and seemed confused to find no one who looked like Will behind her. Just a bunch of strangers who seemed to have little in common. Still, she was placated by Will's answer. Will, however, had only gotten more curious.

She inspected the deer pelt that was closest to her thoughtfully. "Oh? More people moved to Ute recently? Have you met them yet?"

The redhead shook her head, "Not personally. They moved in to that big old house out in the forest. Wait, here- is this what you're looking for?" The woman held out four black claws to her. Will took them, studying them for a moment. Her want for answers tempered by social norms. "What are you wanting them for by the way, most people make jewelry out of them I think. That your plan?"

Will's smile was much more on the polite side of the line rather than the genuine one this time around. Still, it was wholly pleasant. "Oh, something like that." The two finished up their exchange, Will mentally crossing the claws off of her list. Bidding the woman goodbye, Will returned back to the sweet smelling stalls to find her coven. Flakey, syrupy goods all fresh and warm went on as far as the eye could see. "Have you all found the things you wanted? I saw a stall that might have the rosemary I need off that way." She motioned towards the direction she meant, eyeing the group and what purchases they might have made.

[འབྲོག་ཁྱི]

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───── 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐊 ── ❞𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐍❞ ── 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐊𝐈 ──────────⯮
─────────────────────────────────────────── 𝙃𝘼𝙇𝙁-𝙑𝘼𝙈𝙋𝙄𝙍𝙀 ────⯮

LOCATION; festival ─ TAGGING; Alexandria ─ MENTIONED; Luka ─ WC; 1,322

Anton missed Kosciuszko, greatly. He had been nothing more than a scrawny little thing, soft grey, when Anton had fished him out of a dumpster behind a roadside diner. They hadn't gotten more than a few years together before it had turned out that maybe pets weren't the best idea in a household full of vegetarian vampires with cravings, but at least he had made a little girl from one of the towns they had passed through very happy. Anton smoothed a single fingertip along the forehead of the rat perched on the shoulder of his time-softened flight jacket as he took another turn in the lands that surrounded the coven's newly purchased property. His hands looked humorously large in comparison to the rat, but Pierogi's prey instincts had been mollified by his strange gift, and so his temporary cat-replacement did not seem to mind, and instead tracked Anton's movements with his head as if there were a sizeable chunk of cheese floating there.
indentindentindentThe lands around the house must have once been a garden, lovingly tended to, because even as the plants had escaped from the bounds of their garden beds, long wilting tendrils hung over dilapidated stone walls, and wild greenery had crept into the once-tamed soil, one could see the carefully thought-out layout of a masterpiece, sprawled out with the woods as its borders and the mansion at its center. The pale gravel paths, close to the faded colors of the house's outer walls, crunched pleasantly beneath the soles of Anton's hiking boots, even as stray weeds and clumps of dirt had found their way into the mix long ago. Anton did not know much about gardening, or plants for that matter, but he had little interest in changing anything, because an overgrown garden seemed exactly the kind of place where small critters liked to hide.
indentindentindentAn autumn wind, promising winter, blew along the shrub-covered hill and into the mansion's lands, prompting Anton to tug the collar of his jacket as high as it would go. If Anton had a weakness, it was most certainly conversation ─ monologue or dialogue, introspective or purposeless, it did not much matter to him. Even as he circled the gardens, he was keeping up a steady chatter at Pierogi, talking about everything from his plans for the evening to whatever happened to crop up in his mind. Even with his place in the coven, its members tended to shun the daylight, and so this was how Anton often spent his mornings, although today, he was mostly looking to kill time before it would be an appropriate hour to visit the Festival in town.
indentindentindentThe greatest reason why Anton had sought out the coven was company, because as a half-vampire, many true vampires found his existence somehow offensive and humans tended to be instinctively put off by his largely unchanging appearance after a while, and so he had, as a gregarious man, rather found himself between a rock and a hard place. Besides, their patronage allowed Anton to live without much worry over the worldly things, such as where he would spend the night. He had, however, picked up a few bartending shifts at a local establishment, mostly to feed his appetite for conversation, but those were usually in the evenings, when the place would be at its busiest.

indentindentindentAs the sun began its descent across the sky, Anton picked up the rat and gently lifted it from his shoulder. He placed it near one of the shrubs, where it proceeded to regard him in confusion, but he knew it would come to its senses soon, once he would be far away enough to exceed the limits of his influence. As a farewell, he patted its head with his forefinger and thanked it for the pleasant company. The forest around the coven's house tended to be rather dark and looming, even on sunnier days, but Anton did not seem to have a care in the world as he picked out the trail he knew would take him to the town down below. The path was springy underfoot from all the fallen leaves and years of accumulated pine needles, and all around, patches of moss softened the harsh angles of stone, up until the soil turned to pavement and the trees to buildings.

indentindentindentAnton had found himself a vegan hot dog to sate his hunger and he was idly inspecting a stall lined with painted plates and tiny, intricate landscapes ─ undoubtedly views from near Ute ─ painted onto cuts of wood, when Alexandria appeared at his side like a phantom, silent and graceful, although the smears of mud on her clothes were not only uncharacteristic but proof that she was a corporeal being. He followed after her with leisurely steps when asked to, largely pleased at the prospect of a conversation on such a lovely and vibrant evening, but her question was not one he had been expecting. He raised a large hand to scratch at the stubble on the side of his jaw, then willed some apology into his naturally raspy voice.
indentindent"I wasn't aware I was meant to do that, but suppose they're here like everyone else," he mused, half-unaware that his observations might have been unsatisfactory in their vagueness. He ate the last of his vegan hot dog, dusted the crumbs from his hands, then looked around in the crowd that was constantly shifting as it surveyed the contents of the many booths.
indentindentindentAnton wasn't entirely certain what he thought of the werewolves, considering his knowledge of them was thin at best, and as far as he knew, none of the people who had pestered him and consequently earned a punch or two in the face over the years had been one. Apparently there was a stench to them, but he didn't know much about that either, since his nose wasn't quite as sharp as the rest of the coven's. In fact, the most harrowing encounter he had had in his fifteen years of supernatural life was not with any pack or coven, but with hunters, who happened to be very much human. His romance with the vampire Teresa may have fallen apart after her expression of regret in the form of unburying him before he could truly become a member of the undead, but call Anton a hopeless romantic, because he had still been rather enraged when that group of hunters had finally caught up to her.
indentindent"Think they're planning trouble?" he asked, then threw a few proficient yet not entirely serious punches into the air in front of him, utterly unselfconscious about shadow-boxing in the middle of a crowd. That was when a young woman attached herself to their side, entirely nonchalant, except for the... little sheep in her arms, which also happened to be wearing sunglasses. Anton watched her in curiosity, when the lamb was all of a sudden placed into his arms and he took it in his secure grasp on instinct as the woman took off with impressive haste.

indentindentindentAlthough he was puzzled by what had just transpired, it only took a single bleat from the tiny thing for Anton to be attached, and he wasn't about to question such an unusual yet lovable gift from a complete stranger. He gently secured the lamb underneath one strong arm so that he could soothingly pet the soft white wool at the top of its head whilst not falling out of pace with Alex. A man appeared from the crowd around them, red in the face with what seemed to be both fury and exertion, and as his eyes fell on the lamb, his mouth opened into what wasn't far from a snarl. But then his gaze climbed higher and he locked eyes with Anton, and his mouth closed as quickly as it had first opened. In seeming defeat, he disappeared back into the crowd. Anton merely shrugged.

[HauntedMansion]

She/her - loc: festival (art stall) - tags: Tema - mentions: Luka, Alex, Anton


Jay gave a brief nod of understanding, recalling the crowd that had been surrounding the booth just moments before she arrived, and even now a small crowd had began to form around them. Of course, it wasn’t hard to see why, one glance was all it took to draw more people into the beautifully arranged gallery. She could definitely understand feeling a bit overwhelmed, although she loved her hometown dearly, these festivals could typically become a bit.. much, at the very least. Not to mention the extra people that visited for the festivities added a thin layer of chaos to the causal peace and quiet they kept in the town. Which, Tema seemed to be handling in stride nonetheless. Jay beamed back at the younger woman, hearing how her night was going and seeing her own excitement could bring a smile to anyone’s face. Tema was a sweet girl, with a clear passion and solid determination. The beauty of this booth proved that, it was anything but ordinary, and nothing but impressive.

At the mention of work, Jay gave a short shrug, slowly swaying back and forth on the heels of her boots. “T-Technically, I’m off. I-I just keep my tackle i-in case anyone n-needs help. Which, usually happens at l-least once every holiday. But, other than that, I-I’m doin pretty good! I’ll b-be even better w-when I get more coffee..” Jayden held up her empty coffee cup in emphasis, covering a short yawn with the back of her hand at the most appropriate moment. She would simply stay out tonight for as long as she could last. Her day had started pretty early at the shop to begin with, and she certainly wouldn’t pass up snoozing the rest of the chilly night away in her warm bed. But, getting to see the different booths familiar faces had acquired, covered in items they were passionate about, to see what everyone had created and was presenting proudly, was all worth staying up for.
Out of her peripheral, Jay noticed someone who was trying to view a painting she was slightly obscuring from where she stood. Offering a quiet apology, she quickly stepped to the side of the booth, making sure she wasn’t blocking anyone’s view before gazing back to Tema. “W-Well, you’re lookin g-great hon!But if t-things do get overwhelming, I-I don’t mind dealin w-with a few tourists.. n-not that you’ll need it, of c-course. I am b-but a service call away.” Jay offered, titling her head to the side, gesturing towards the gathering crowd.
Figuring she’d at least offer, while not wanting to keep her from anymore business thus far, looking to everyone around them. She managed to catch the familiar blurred figure of Luka, sprinting away from them, as suddenly another person at the booth was holding a sheep. Tearing her gaze away from the questionable scene, deciding that she would ask the blonde any questions later (if she ever caught up to her, or heard the story from an angry farmer first) Looking back to Tema once more, she presented her empty coffee cup. “I-I won’t keep ya any l-longer. But do ya want s-somethin hot? Coffee? Tea? I’m gonna get a r-refill.. it kinda helps w-with the people part, and ya know.. n-not freezing out here.” The handy woman retorted, smiling as she patiently awaited a response before Tema could return to any interested customers, and a sheep, apparently.

[HauntedMansion]

Bobbie Stefan
She/her - loc: outside the cabin -> festival - tags: Farris, Willamine, Harlow, bite <3, Carson, Luka

The response Farris gave brought a few new ideas into Bobbies head, filing away a mental note to ask the other witch if she’s ever went gabbling before. Now that, would be fun without question. She wasn’t sure how much the other coven members knew about card games, but it was only fair she shared some knowledge to trade what she’s learned about magic so far. The witches travelled through the woods until they were engulfed by the shimmering lights strung along nearly every building within the town. The street lamps offering a comforting warmth to counter the chilling wind, along with the mixed smell of cider and cinnamon, the sounds of cheerful laughter and friendly banter becoming a calming background noise. The warmth of a welcoming community, beckoning every soul, young and old, to join this sanctuary of carefree fun and enjoyment.
It was a familiar warmth she held close to her heart, gnawing at the smallest part of her that suddenly missed home a whole lot more. The voices of her fellow witches briefly joined the background, as Bobbie took time to gaze along every booth, aligned orderly in the streets, yet each one was vastly different in the variety of home made products for sale. Even when she expected cutthroat business, she could only find kind smiles and friendly demeanor. Bobbie had been unconsciously smiling to herself when Will’s voice snapped her back to reality, something about cinnamon rolls and not splitting up. “Oh, yeah- sounds good.” The redhead gave a brief nod in confirmation, a bit late to sound like she even knew what she was agreeing to.

The witches navigated through the festival together like a little flock, as Bite made sure they all stayed within a reasonable distance of each other (Truly, an adorable sight to see). Bobbie being determined to have fun tonight, despite any gloomy homesick feelings. She quickly occupied her mind by looking at nearly every booth they passed by, taking time to consider what a jewelry vendor was offering. A charming old man selling beautiful stones recovered from the mountains, polished and cut perfectly for presentation, bound by various gold and silver chains. The redhead found a sapphire ring for Dexter, with gold and blue basically being all he wore, even after Madam lectured him about appropriate clothing for that funeral. Yikes. That was pretty bad. The memory still managed to leave her dawning a grin, cherishing the warmth it brought, knowing how much Dexter will love receiving this gift in the mail.
Walking with a new confident stride, she made her way back to the group, finding each member at a different booth when she heard a faint wolf whistle from behind. Bobbie stopped in her tracks, letting out a short sigh, turning around to confront this familiar scenario when she didn’t exactly see what she had been expecting. She couldn’t find anyone behind her, clearly demanding attention, even if it was a black eye. Instead her eyes instinctively found the one thing that seemed out of place. Someone who wasn’t expressing the same cheer as everyone else. She gazed to a pair standing on the sidewalk, one woman who clearly wasn’t feeling the holiday spirit, dawning the first scowl the witch has seen all night, and another, a spunky looking blonde who was currently blocking her path. Bobbie caught the end of the shorter woman’s statement, suddenly feeling a bit uneasy by how clueless she sounded, compared to the other woman’s current expression. “Oh boy..” the redhead muttered, knowing this wasn’t any of her business, she should just walk away and let natural selection do it’s thing. Which she definitely planned to do, of course, when the rest of her coven decided to move on. Until then, maybe she could watch someone learn a lesson about cat calling.

[Wallflower11]

𝐋𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐑𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐝
| Location - Festival > Café | tagged/interacting - Kota, Johann, Carson |
☾

"Mmm, yes my famous assortment of 'babes'" Lyall replied. He couldn't help but hold back a laugh at Kota's "swooning". "That's me, the most charming man in all of Ute," he deadpanned. Though his face didn't stay serious for too long a smile cracking along his cold edges. To most Lyall could be a little hard to read but a select few including Dakota and Johann could read him like a book.

"Very true, can't leave everyone hanging," Lyall replied quirking his lips at the memories, of the hijinks the trio had caused. Lyall would always deny the size of his role in the chaos, having been known as the "responsible one" of the three growing up, and while he often played the straight man he definitely caused his fair share of trouble. Though he doubted they would be causing too much havoc today but forgetting their responsibilities for a while to hang out like old times was always nice. Lyall waited, taking a second to appreciate the crispness of the cold in the air, as Kota got Mr. Aldrich to cover her stall.

Lyall gave Mr. Aldrich a wave as the man gave him a knowing look as Kota approached. The Beta took no time to start leading him towards the café talking excitedly about anything and everything. He nodded content just listening to her speak rather than try to add too much of his own input. He always appreciated how his friends could fill the silence, it always felt so natural. When he tried it sometimes felt stilted and halting, though that was probably mostly his self-deprecation talking.

The pair arrived at the café in no time. Despite the cheery air, something had his inner wolf immediately on edge, tension wound its way through his currently nonexistent. It was nothing new his wolf was a bit more sensitive to things like that and saw danger in the most innocuous things sometimes, a defense mechanism he had been told by a therapist once. Find a therapist that he could actually work with was nigh impossible being a werewolf and all so the whole thing hadn't worked out, unfortunately.

Lyall took a deep breath as they entered building the little bell tingling merrily. His senses were flooded with the sensory contents of the café, the scent of hot cider burned thicker in here than it did outside where it was more of a suggestion on the wind of the autumn air. He immediately could pick Johann's scent out among the many others, along with Carson's. Who stormed past almost knocking into Dakota on her way by. The source of the earlier tension was clear with how the older wolf's mood seemed to be. Lyall couldn't help but feel a bit of concern for the other wolf, though the two didn't really get along that well with their opposing natures he did care about her.

He cringed at the force of Carson opening the door, mentally crossing his fingers that it didn't crack or break. He knew, from prior experience that the doors on the businesses around town were not the most sturdy. He himself had had to pay for the repair of the exact door that Carson had just exited the café with, it wasn't his proudest moment.

[Stargazer3000]

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Farris nodded in confirmation to Will after the coven leader made it clear that the group would be traveling together, "Sounds good, boss - well dressed folk group it is!" With this and a quick wink, Farris followed the gang as they began to make their way deeper into the bustling market. Immediately she was enveloped by the warmth and sparkling lights that seemed to embody the good-natured atmosphere of Ute, her sense of excitement only increasing as her eyes leapt from thoroughly stocked stall to thoroughly stocked stall. There were local ranchers selling the last of their harvests, beautifully crafted home goods and bobbles, charmingly rustic knitwear, and enough baked goods to make Farris question whether or not the town was expecting some kind of pastry related Armageddon. As she kept pace with her coven mates her gaze couldn't seem to pick a particular thing to settle on until they landed on the holy grail of foods - cinnamon rolls.

"Right then, I've got a date with the only thing in this world that is truly good and pure, and that could in no way every betray me or cause any kind of difficulties down the road in the event that I consume twenty of them in one sitting," Farris called lightheartedly over her shoulder as she made a bee-line for the stall, barely pausing to fish her bills out of her already overstuffed satchel. She hadn't been exaggerating when she'd mentioned earlier that she was low on funds, but every available cent she had went towards an assortment of baked goods - and a few handmade candies - that she eagerly took from the vendor with a wide, eager smile. Now fully intent on becoming more sugar than human, Farris made her way back towards her coven leader, popping a caramel into her mouth on the way as she took a beat to glance around the market once more, intent on imprinting the happy scene into her mind.

The tension in the air hadn't lessened since the coven had come down from the woods, and as the evening continued to march on the energy seemed to get sharper, like a pot of water before it boils over. Farris instinctively glanced towards her coven mates, tracking their movements as she rolled the sweet candy over her tongue, but nothing seemed to indicate a direct threat towards them and so Farris forced herself to inhale deeply - it was nothing, there were just too many fates in one spot, too many futures tangling and knotting together...for as much as she liked people, crowds like this one always seemed to set her on edge.

The candy in her mouth had dissolved into nothingness by the time Farris reached Will so she popped in a handmade peppermint, replacing the slightest hint of worry on her face with her trademark smile. Waiting for the leader to finish her business, Farris rocked every so slightly from side to side, turning her head at the Will's question. "Yup, mission accomplished...if I was going to throw the last of my money away, the only worthy cause was sugar...scurvy is just a myth, right?" she joked, a mock expression of worry settling onto her face, before continuing, "Well, either way, my business here is done, I'm just following the Scooby gang now." No sooner had the words left her mouth, than she saw it - over Will's shoulder and bit deeper into the market a thread between two strangers was pulled taut; something was about to happen.

The technical term for the eye's ability to change its focus between distant and near objects was 'accommodation', and the first time Farris had looked it up in a textbook she'd been somewhat disappointed that it hadn't been something cooler - in her perfect world when she tried to explain how she used her true sight and divination abilities, she'd get to say something more interesting than, "It's not something I turn on and off, the stings of fate - or the future, or whatever you want to call it- are always there in the background, and to see them I just have to focus, like how staring at the tip of the pen makes the background fuzzy and visa versa. You know, accomodation." This is all to say, someone seriously needed to come up with a more interesting medical term to make her sound nice and clever when she dropped it in casual conversation.

Now, as she focused on the scene unfolding over Will's shoulder with the strings of fate taking over her field of vision, Farris could see two threads get pulled tight between strangers that she didn't quite recognize in the crowd. Whatever was happening, it was happening now, and Farris instinctively tracked the movements of the stranger while reaching out, to get Will's attention jerking her head in the direction of the scene as it began to unfold.

[Stargazer3000]

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The first time Johann had been slapped in the face it had barely registered. He'd been young at the time, and stupid as the young often were, and Candy, or maybe Cindy -time had blurred her name as much as the details around her almost certainly justified rage - had slapped him in front of their neighboring lockers just before lunch. It had been loud, and to her credit, well-aimed and delivered with impeccable form, but even then it barely swayed him, barely left a mark, barely evoked a reaction. Now, amid the bustle of the café Johann's head snapped to the side, his thoughts and movement lurching to a sickening halt as the table clattered, rend off the ground by the sudden movement of his packmate.

Like ice water dumped on a slowly gathering fire, whatever panic had been settling into Johann was thoroughly doused by the intensity of Carson's reaction, and he barely had time to register that she was...furious? Scared? Enraged? Whatever that mix of overpowering emotions were swimming in the depths of her dangerously narrowed eyes and embedded in the lightning fast barbs she threw back at him, he didn't figure it out fast enough, because now all she was was gone. Johann blinked across the booth at the empty bench as though it would bring her back, bring back that horribly ephemeral moment when they'd seemed on the verge of getting along, on the verge of friendship, on the verge of something that was painfully close to understanding.

The paper cup didn't stand a chance against his balled fist as Johann fought to rein in his own mounting emotions, only now registering that his free hand hung suspended in the air, reaching out for the form that had occupied the emptiness just moments before. As though it would have made a difference. His hand dropped to the table and he forced himself to move, stilted like a tinman lacking oil, into what he could only hope was a hunch easily glanced over and disregarded - Ute was a small town and people talked.

Damn. He shouldn't have spooked her like that, should've kept his panic more tightly clamped down - what did she mean 'defending herself', what was there to defend, she hadn't done anything - and now, more than anything it was a struggle to sit still, to stay put. He wanted to go after her, to ask what had happened, to plead with her to tell him what he got so horribly wrong but...no. She didn't need, didn't deserve him breathing down her neck, and he refused to intrude on that side of her what was just so raw. She'd tell him, or not, in her own time. For now he just needed to get away from the ever watchful eyes of the locals, needed to get some air, needed...he needed...

Kota and Lyall's scents whispered on the edge of his conscious, letting him know that he could breathe. He didn't need to see them to feel their presence like a balm, and the alpha practically deflated in his seat, letting the barely cushioned back of the booth catch him as he slumped back, suddenly drained from the intensity of the emotions that still lingered in the air. Johann moaned softly as his hand finally come to rest at the base of his skull, rubbing away the soreness from a long day of labor that now had a slightly sharper edge, honed by worry and self-frustration. Once the best parts of him had found their place in the booth, he forced on a weak smile - this certainly wasn't how he'd seen one of his favorite nights of the year going. "I messed up," he confessed, finishing in a low murmur, "As though it wasn't already obvious," his gaze drifting towards the door, before gliding back to settle on the faces of his dearest friends.