𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐞 (holiday fantasy OPEN)

[འབྲོག་ཁྱི]

𝘐 x𝘙𝘌𝘍𝘜𝘚𝘌,xxx 𝘐 x𝘙𝘌𝘍𝘜𝘚𝘌 x𝘛𝘖 x𝘉𝘌 x𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 x𝘋𝘖𝘎 !

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

☾ ⋅ ──── ⋅ 𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐀 xx 𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑 ⋅

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

𝖡𝖸 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖠𝖸 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖳𝖠𝖫𝖪, 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖢𝖠𝖭 𝖬𝖤𝖭𝖣 𝖬𝖸 𝖡𝖱𝖮𝖪𝖤𝖭 𝖧𝖤𝖠𝖱𝖳

████
████
████

┌─────────────────────────────┐

│
│
│
│
│

tagging; vanya
mentioned; -
───────────────────────────
location; everwinter > snowfell outskirts
feeling; disoriented

│
│
│
│
│
└─────────────────────────────┘

Gabled roofs rose up to the sky on both sides, lining the street tight as castle walls, and it had been a long time since Erika had felt this much like prey. She pulled the rough-spun, scratchy cloak closer around herself, to hide the state of her clothes, the breeches scuffed from nights slept outside under the stars, the cotton shirt torn from a few too many places to mend. The muddy street squelched under her worn leather boots, seeping dampness onto her skin, as carts and people passed by, blurring into throngs of leering faces that she didn't want to press into memory. Everyone was a threat. If they saw too much, if they understood, she would be driven out of Everwinter before she could pass through a port. A voice called out at her from a market stall and she passed by without an answer, or even a look.
indentindentThe signposts on street corners forced her to raise her downcast eyes, and she let the hood of the cloak shadow her face from anyone who might recognize her. Those eight years spent as a soldier that should have been the pass to her freedom had instead only served to condemn her for life, feared both by her own kind and those she had been made to hunt. She had heard rumors of back-alley port shops, the kind more willing to serve someone like her for the right amount of money, but locating one would have taken connections, trust, neither of which she had. With anyone. Coin was hardly within her grasp either. The only ones willing to hire her would have made a mercenary out of her, and she had left that life behind. It was never what she had wanted.
indentindentThe din of wallowing water grew closer, boats clanging against the docks in the distance, seagulls wheeling and calling overhead. Erika raised her eyes to watch the lanterns hanging from masts swaying in their chains, their specks of firelight dancing against the darkening sky and casting a soft glow onto the decks below. The ornate pavilion jutted out over the dark waves, its rearmost three corners containing the most official port doors one might find in Everwinter. She had watched it for days now, how the crowds thinned toward evening, and as she had expected, the few late passengers drifted into the lights and opulence of the pavilion, passed shining gold onto expectant palms, and let their documents be inspected by the guards in colourful livery before stepping into the swirling light of a carefully decorated port. She had neither a bribe nor papers, only a desperate hope to finally find her salvation on the other side.

indentindentThe last passenger passed through into the port, into a magical luminescence, and Erika stepped forward, mustering determination and belonging into her bearing. She did not look like the usual customer, the nobles and merchants with their expensive clothes and condescending eyes, but she wouldn't be the first nor the last desperate traveler pooling up all their wealth to pass into a place they hoped would hold the secret to their fortune, some kind of dream fulfilled in the magic of the port. And so the guards did not look at her twice, the one standing by the gate only holding out his hand for whatever she might have to give in a movement so rote it twisted in her gut. Be who they may, they didn't deserve this, but she had no choice. At least that's what she told herself, when her hand shot out of her cloak to grasp his throat with unnatural strength.
indentindentHer attack was so unexpected in the lazy tranquility of the evening, that the guard dropped his halberd in favour of clawing at her fingers, fearful of the power that could have stopped his breath at will. Maybe he was some noble's son, or a peasant who had gotten lucky with the post of a lifetime, hardly prepared for something like this. The weapon clanged onto the polished floor, and for the span of a breath, the other guards in the pavilion stood stunned, before clattering into action. But she squeezed at his throat in warning and he whimpered, and the guards stopped in their tracks. They wouldn't trade his life just to stop one unpaid trip through a port, and that was what she had counted on. Erika hadn't stepped into Everwinter just to kill somebody. It didn't mean she was any more deserving.
indentin"Let me pass," she muttered, the threat of the alternative implied in her words.
indentindentThe guards nearest to the central port hesitated for a moment, glanced at each other for affirmation, then backed away toward the sides of the pavilion. She dragged the writhing man with her, tracking mud up the steps, and as she closed in on the port, turned around to hold him in front of her like a shield. The tense guards parted like water, circling toward the gate she had passed through. There would always be someone who found their bravery the moment a back was turned, and she was unwilling to take any chances. The sabatons on the man's feet banged against the floor as she shoved him at the awaiting guards, as far away from herself as possible, then dove shoulder-first into the shimmering port. The noise and shouting of the guards rushing after her rose up, then fell away as if sinking underwater.

indentindentFalling sideways through a port wasn't ideal. The magic churned around her, making her feel distant from herself, but not distant enough to not feel the grasping hands that tore at her as she passed deeper. The burning presence of the port seemed to have fingers that found their way into the seams of her being, gripping on to the edges of the two shapes that existed within her, painfully stretching at their bonds. For a brief moment of irrational hope, Erika felt that this magic might finally tear the beast from her, free her from the curse that always came to take her mind away. Then the clanging began, of innumerable deafening bells, and as she pressed her hands to her ears to stop the noise, she could feel herself solidifying back into one, the beast lamentably back in its shadowed place.
indentindentThe air around her was distinctly no more that of the outdoors, the salt-tinged breeze by the open waters, but the close air of a room, dusty and warm from wood and carpet. Erika crashed through to the other side, falling hard onto a floor that fractured underneath her shoulder, before rolling once, twice, and coming to a halt only as she struck a wall. Hanging pictures and ornate plates rattled in their places, before one came loose, hurtled downward, and shattered over her brow. As the shards clinked onto the floor, a formless panic welled up inside of her, driving her into motion, and she scrambled up onto her hands and feet, sending the pieces of porcelain scattering again across the floorboards. I have to get out of here. Before they find me.
indentindentThe door she had fallen through stood in its place in the wall, closed and utterly without magic, without the sounds and light that had left her disoriented. The small, crossed window in the dark wood was opaque, but it didn't even cross Erika's mind that it might have been hoary from the cold outside. She staggered through, and winced as the freezing air washed against her face, stinging at her forehead and clouding her breath. The ground under her feet gave an icy crunch, and she glanced down only to see snow. A bead of blood fell from her brow, to stain the expanse of white with a speck of red. Where am I?
indentindentThe cold clenched at her bare hands, and that was when she looked up, only to see the strange woman seemingly frozen in place, staring at her, clenching the bag at her side. A tide of fear rose up among her disorientation, distantly acknowledging that her cloak had fallen away a while ago, left behind somewhere near where she had landed. And so she stood equally frozen in spite of the icy air that pricked at her face, eyes fixed onto the stranger's face, waiting for any twitch of movement as if it would cue her in on whether she was about to be given up to the guards, or something far worse.

[Consulting_Angel]

Raoul Solaris
Location: Snowfell Library
Tagged: Open

Closing The Book Fayre for the night, Raoul carefully brushed through the shelves, realigning books that may have been put out of place, reshelving anything that customers moved and changed their minds on. He was quite proud of the fact that he'd kept the store going after his parents had chosen to retire from it - even seeing an uptick in profits. It was enough that he was at the point where he had begun to venture into acquiring more old, rare books for his own personal collection - which he kept in a back room of the store that only staff had access to. Unfortunately, getting such books was becoming more difficult, especially as he was quite particular in his standards and for what actually interested him.

Eventually, he was ready to leave - but not quite yet go home. Raoul had intentions of finding a couple more such books that he hoped to acquire. He did not like to close the store for such excursions though, so the only time he could do them was after closing. He had business to keep, after all, and it wasn't as if he didn't enjoy it anyway.

Stepping outside, Raoul grumbled to himself about the cold, winter weather. Perhaps to be expected in Everwinter, but this time of year, it could be particularly biting. Fortunately, it didn't take too long before the 'flame' inside of him warmed him up enough to be content. A great benefit of being a Phoenix - even as a human, he could adjust his own body temperature to suit the weather, though it often meant he'd wear clothing that was not always considered suitable for winter and lead to quite a few questions about whether he was cold.

After a short while, Raoul arrived at the store he would be taking a port from - an antiquities store that was run by a slightly eccentric older woman that had told him a few times that he looked just like her late husband when he was younger. He didn't mind too much, and sometimes she'd have a variety of books that he'd peruse and see if they were of any interest to him.
"Raoul my dear, are you ready? I'll warn you though, there's something strange about tonight." she said, as Raoul entered the store, getting right to the point.
"I am. I'm sure it'll be fine." Raoul replied, dismissing the warning as just one of her eccentricities - she tended to say things like that.
"Very well - just be careful. I wouldn't want you going the way my Harold did - you look just like him you know."
"... Thank you."
And with that, the port was opened, and Raoul stepped through.

Perhaps he should have taken more notice of the warning, but Raoul forgot about it as soon as he was through the port, as he felt like he jolted. The sound of a hundred, faint bells filled the air, and by the time he'd opened his eyes to look around and see where they were coming from, the sound had faded. But there was a bright flash of light that was just slowly fading. That hadn't happened before. How odd... and... taking a look around the building he was now in, this surely wasn't where he'd intended to end up. At least it was unmistakably a library, and he quite looked forward to browsing the shelves - even though no one was about and he was sure it must be close to closing time, if not closed already.
What really caught Raoul's attention, however, was the fact that he was cold. Wait... cold? He attempted to warm himself up, stoke his inner 'flame', but to no avail. Like it was dormant for now, unable to be used. Uh oh.

[འབྲོག་ཁྱི]

𝘐𝘛 𝘈𝘓𝘓 𝘑𝘜𝘚𝘛 𝘛𝘜𝘙𝘕𝘚 𝘉𝘈𝘊𝘒 𝘛𝘖 𝘋𝘜𝘚𝘛 𝘐𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘋𝘈𝘠 !

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

⯭ ⋅ ──── ⋅ 𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑷𝑬𝑹 xx 𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑺 ⋅

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

𝖲𝖮 𝖧𝖮𝖫𝖣 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖪, 𝖦𝖨𝖵𝖤 𝖬𝖤 𝖠 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖴𝖳𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖲𝖤𝖤 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖨𝖭 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖫𝖨𝖦𝖧𝖳

████
████
████

┌─────────────────────────────┐

│
│
│
│
│

tagging; kal
mentioned; -
note; harper uses she and they pronouns
location; snowfell, the moose lodge
feeling; confused

│
│
│
│
│
└─────────────────────────────┘

The voices of quests milling about the entry and quietly conversing turned into a steady background murmur as Harper sat beside her laptop on the edge of one of the sinking armchairs, clutching their phone and attempting to hear the words of the meteorologist over the breaking connection. The air was fragrant with the fir branches decorating the rafters and banisters, and the cinnamon and cardamom wafting over from the lodge's dining room. Whatever hot drink had been planted on the table beside the laptop sat ignored, forgotten about in favour of the weather forecast she was attempting to acquire. It seemed hopeless. Reception was already bad enough in the valley, but something seemed to have knocked into whatever cell tower had been holding it all together and erased any remaining hope of having an intelligible conversation.
indentindent"... seeing the data... cold front... inches... snowfall..." came the crackling voice through the speaker, and Harper attempted to piece together what they could, scribbling down every half-understood word on a notepad perched on her knee.
indentin"Sorry, what was that? Mrs. Castillo?" they implored, simultaneously praying to the strange forces of technology to hold themselves together for just a moment. "I didn't catch any of the numbers..." she half-mumbled, already feeling that it was hopeless, and a couple of seconds later, the line turned into nothing but static, followed by a mechanized voice telling her that connection had been lost. The call had dropped. Harper sighed at the screen, ended the call, and clicked the screen shut. No choice but to try again later.
indentindentThey turned back to the expectant, empty columns lighting the laptop screen in front of her, and updated the Snowfell Drift's local network website with an apology for the missing forecast. The town would be fine without knowing exactly how many more inches of snow they would be getting on the ski-slopes. She hoped. It wasn't their usual post due to one ill, fellow junior writer, and in spite of having lived in Snowfell for the past twenty-one years, they knew absolutely nothing about skiing. In fact, Harper had done everything she could to avoid the sport in particular. One unpleasant, freezing experience stumbling around with popsicle sticks attached to her feet had been enough to sour it altogether. But tomorrow they would be covering the winter market, and maybe it would turn out better. At least it didn't involve making any phone calls.

indentindentJust as she closed the laptop, her mother's voice called out from behind the reception desk, a guest nearby patiently waiting for her attention: "Honey, I know you're busy, but could you take these upstairs?" she asked, indicating the basket of cleaning supplies, already returning to taking down the guest's details, before distractedly adding: "Into the storage closet on the second floor." Harper couldn't find it in themself to decline. It was peak season, the busiest time for her parents' lodge, and as much as she wanted to be a genuine journalist, the reality was that they worked as a junior reporter for a local tourist-centered paper, with the lobby being the closest thing they had to an office, and had all the time in the world to help out their parents when they needed it.
indentindent"Yeah, sure thing," Harper answered, with one last glance at the darkened screen of their phone, before getting up and making a winding path around guests and luggage to the reception. They picked up the basket and wove back a similarly complicated route to the stairs, the banister bright and colourful with a carefully thought-out combination of tinsel, lights, and fir branches. Climbing such familiar steps sent her onto autopilot, her mind occupied with nothing in particular, left, right, skip the small topmost step. A part of the second floor was open to the reception below, until Harper circled the corner into the closed hallway, where the storage closet was.

indentindentAt first, they thought the distant jangling of bells was coming from the first floor, or possibly one of the rooms, but it was only growing louder and Harper's steps began to slow, now stirred out of her reverie. Then the supposedly locked door at the end of the hallway, leading to the balcony, flashed with purple light, beams bursting forth around the jambs, and they thought it was going to fall out of its frame entirely. Harper startled, dropping the basket of cleaning supplies. Bottles fell out, rolling onto the carpet. Then both the sound of bells and inexplicable light ended as soon as they had begun, and as if caught in a spell, she crept forward, supplies forgotten, an absent hand grasping for the set of keys in her pocket — the same set that would have unlocked the storage closet.
indentindentThe door soon unlocked, Harper shoved it open as if something was going to leap into the hallway and attack her. Cold air rushed in, carrying errant snowflakes, and out there, on the balcony that should have been inaccessible, stood a stranger, white snow beginning to settle onto their black hair. For a moment, all Harper did was stare and flounder, mouth opening and closing as they grasped for what to say. Each sentence she tried to begin stumbled into the next, becoming a muddle of how, who, and why. And in the end, what fell from their mouth was perhaps the least useful question of all. Some journalist.
indentin"What are you doing?"

[ᴮᴸᵁᴱ]

❝ 𝐑𝐇𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐒, 𝐊𝐀𝐋 ❞
kal ophelia rhodes ▸ mentions; - ▸ tags; harper ▸ loc; the moose lodge
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
kal's mind whirred as she tried to process what was happening and where she was. her first thought was the young ferret and scorpion she'd had at home, which then lead to small waves of worry about what was going to happen to them if even she did not know where she was. it had been a while since she had used port doors to get somewhere, so perhaps this was just a little detour and she wasn't far away from where she was supposed to go. "pull yourself together, rhodes- you've just hit a slight snag that's all." kal thought as she attempted to ground herself.

the travel had made her feel nauseous. and all of a sudden it hit her; she couldn't feel her magic anymore. "okay. that's a problem." she said out loud as she tried hard to focus on at least unsheathing her claws. nothing. then, she tried to shift her wings out of their dormant position, nestled into her back, so she could move away from where she was without hopefully being seen. again, nothing. she couldn't even feel the small bumps on her shoulder blades that usually weighed her down even in her human form. panic began to set in, and she was about to scream. or cry. or, something. that was when she heard distant voices- not from the apparent town below her but from inside the building she was in.

kal froze, trying to listen to what was being said. the voices stopped, giving her some kind of sense of relief, until she then heard footsteps. not withdrawing from her position, but rather coming towards her instead. she looked around once more, as if looking for some kind of weapon or thing to defend herself, but having found nothing she just stopped. she would have to face whatever threat this was alone.

the door handle rattled, and shortly after the door swung open to reveal someone she definitely didn't recognise stood in front of her. in the moments of silent acknowledgement that the both of them were there, and were real, kal's eyes flicked down to the floor to see a basket laying there with objects almost spilling out of it. when her eyes returned to the figure stood there, she studied them. kal's mind processed the person's hair, their eyes and their demeanor. they didn't appear threatening; if anything they looked threatened - along with confused, as well. their mouth opened and closed a couple of times before they eventually seemed to find their voice. "what are you doing?" they asked, and kal's lips pursed. her hands fell down to her thighs and she gave them a simultaneous pat as if she didn't know what to do with herself.

she didn't know what to do with herself, truth be told. rocking on her heels, she took in a sharp breath. "well, this isn't the ski lift!" she blurted out awkwardly. obviously. a chill ran down her spine as the temperature of the snow and the air around her seemingly began to get to her. kal raised her hands up as a show of peace before slowly walking into the building. "uh- sorry, love; could you.. could you tell me where i am?" she asked slowly.

[_humblebumble_]

✦ 𝕬𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖉𝖊 𝕽𝖚𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖙
daemon - vampire ✦ tag. Callum mention. - location. MacKenna Bakery
──────────────────────────────────────────────

Bakery. It’s a bakery! Wow, that makes so much sense. Not only with the smell… the delicious, wonderful, mouth watering smell that continues to permeate the air as they speak, but the layout of the building makes sense now too. Adelaide is shocked she didn’t realize this sooner, but to grant her some leeway, she is busy being completely confused and thrown off by the events of the last, say… five minutes. She’s not firing on all cylinders at the moment. Well, the argument could be made that that’s never the case for Adelaide, but right now is special and thus she is trying not to be too hard on herself.

It’s hard to think about anything but those cookies the guy mentioned. Adelaide has never had a cookie herself, or any food for that matter, but she’s heard raving reviews about cookies that sometimes made her think she could probably maybe keep one down for long enough to appreciate the taste. She’s never tried before, she may be stupid occasionally but she’s not that stupid. While she’s never particularly enjoyed being a vampire, that doesn’t mean she's been parading around pretending to be anything else. Strictly blood diet for her, so far.

Which is why this sudden hunger is all consuming in its severity. She’s never been hungry before. And why is she now? It all makes no sense.

There are far more pressing concerns than her own repetitive rants about how ‘ooh it smells good, i'm hungry, why am I hungry, I can’t think it smells good’, rinse and repeat. She needs to focus on what the guy is saying lest she get kicked out with no answers and no idea where she is. There's a modicum of a chance he knows exactly what’s happening and will henceforth begin explaining it in perfectly understandable terms.

"You're saying you came from upstairs? Like where my home is?" Adelaide finally manages to focus enough on him to understand the words he’s saying, "I've got to say this is the strangest home invasion I've ever experienced.”

Well, there goes that theory. She had noticed based on his face and body language that he was confused, but she’d hoped maybe there was another factor making him confused and that he secretly did know what was happening. Unlucky Adelaide.

“No, I didn’t say that,” Adelaide is rolling all her dice on her ability to gaslight, praying that this guy doesn’t know that her face turns red when she’s lying. How could he? Sure, it’s a dead giveaway, along with the fact that her voice raises octaves about five pitches, but maybe she can get away with it if she’s convincing enough, “uh… Promise I’m not home invading your home, or your bakery, which smells so divine by the way! Can I get some of those cookies?”

Well. Nailed it.

He begins walking, and explaining where they are, so Adelaide will take the win for what it is. Mackenna Bakery is most certainly not the other side of the port she was trying to get to, not that that’s new information. She’s never heard of a place like this, but it’s a good piece of information. Bakery means society. Some sort of community. Meaning, someone out there is bound to have some helpful information, possibly even knows exactly what went wrong. Hopefully.

Adelaide zeroes in on the cookies that he slides over to her like a hawk to its prey. Sugar cookies? She’s taking her best uneducated guess. They’re in cute shapes and the domesticity of it all sort of makes Adelaide want to cry. Adelaide deserves a cute life of making shaped cookies with her loved ones in their cozy little cottage and their twelve cats and fifteen dogs. Maybe a snake, she can see herself with a snake.

After Adelaide has shoved half of the cookies into her mouth and hardly remembered that chewing your food is a thing people who regularly eat do, she processes that she’s been asked more questions. Seriously, how does she ever get anything done? Her attention span is apparently hyper focused on one thing at a time, and right now it’s not choking to death on her first and new favourite food.

She manages to swallow on the fourth try, clears her throat as if that all went according to plan, and answers, “Nooooot… here…” she says, stretching out the word in order to give herself time to think of a reasonable thing to say, but unfortunately she can’t think that fast, ever. This interaction has not gone her way a single time. Wait, scratch that. She did successfully get those cookies, so she basically won.

As she takes in another breath to begin potentially explaining what the hell “not here” means, she’s quite rudely interrupted.

Adelaide watches a cat approach, and only barely manages to connect the dots that this cat probably lives here and isn’t a random stranger that entered through a magic door, because the cookie guy bats no eyelashes and asks no questions. The cat is… wonderful. Every positive word one can use to describe a cat applies to this one.

Adelaide loves cats. She was just musing about her future twelve cats, wasn’t she? She’s got names picked out and everything. Unfortunately, animals tend to hate Adelaide. She’s never figured out the reason. Maybe they can sense that she’s a vampire and are warry? Maybe they can smell how much she wants them to like her and think she’s weird. Either way, every cat Adelaide has attempted to pet has either hissed, run away, scratched at her, or glared until she stopped trying. She’s well familiar with a cat’s annoying little tail twitch. Despite how cute it is, she doesn’t try pushing her luck. This cat climbs up onto Mr. Cookie like it’s the most normal thing in the world, and Adelaide is full of yearning again.

Using this distraction to shovel the last remaining cookies into her mouth like a madman, Adelaide once again curses her timing because he addresses her again. Does everyone who eats exclusively take bites just as they’re expected to talk or is it just her? At least she knows his name now.

“I’m Adelaide,” she answers through a swallow, and almost dies in the process. After holding her breath so she doesn’t cough into Callum and his cat's faces, she continues in her normal spiel she gives everyone who asks her name, despite regretting it every time, “My friends call me Ed, when I have any. So not a lot, but I’d like it if I had friends and those friends called me Ed.”

Smooth, once again.

Adelaide glances longingly down at the empty plate, thinking about all the foods she’d like to try now that she can apparently eat, “Callum, can you tell me where exactly Mackenna Bakery is located? I think… I must’ve taken a wrong turn on the way here. Yeah, that makes sense. Also, do you believe in vampires?”

Normal questions to ask from normal people. If he thinks she’s crazy, sure, she can live with that. If he believes in vampires he might believe her story. If he knows vampires exist and thinks she’s weird for not knowing, then she can explain everything and get help. If she can eat now, and feel hungry, does that mean all of her vampiric traits have gone away? As she’s waiting for Callum to answer, she closes her mouth and tries to elongate her fangs. She doesn’t feel anything happen, and a quick swipe of her tongue over her teeth leads to the same conclusion. She can’t.

Is Adelaide not a vampire anymore? How???

[Stargazer3000]

𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐚
tagged erika | mentioned | location outskirts of Snowfell
───────────────────────────

The wind shifted, growing steadily from a whisper into a low hiss that filled that silence of the alleyway and kicked up snow in spiraling whorls, shimmering in the low light of dusk. Somewhere, perhaps one street over, a street light flickered on. And Vanya saw none of it - for she was somewhere else entirely; lost in memory.

A quiet library, sequestered in a corner, pressed against a heater that rattled like a cart over cobblestones. In her hands was a book that no child, no supervised child, should be reading. A book of folktales, horrors from a frozen north - starving wind monsters, beings who could wear the skin of another, vicious waterfolk under the ice who longed to drag a little girl down, down, down.

Vanya was not the superstitious type, and later she’d blame it on exhaustion, the oncoming storm, standing alone in the unknown. But the fear that kept her rooted to the spot in the alleyway was no ordinary fear - it was a primal thing, with fingers twisted so deeply inside her she could feel it pulling on her gut, choking the air from her lungs, squeezing her hammering heart like a vice. A monster is coming. A childhood fear.

And then, just behind a closed door a bit down the alley, the din of sharp clatter. A pause. A heartbeat. The creak of a door being opened.

Vanya braced, took an instinctive step back.

But no monster stepped out, no horrible beast with snapping maw came to tear her limb from limb. It was a woman. Just a woman.

The wind pitched up to a whistle, and Vanya could do nothing but stare. Dimly she registered the clothes that were no match for the weather, the posture poised as if for an attack, the utter stillness of the stranger. But it was her eyes that Vanya dared not look away from. A green the shade of summer reeds, of an olive branch in bloom, swam with emotion, with intensity. Vanya knew that emotion well, saw it on the prey she captured with a clever shot, and no doubt wore its twin on her own face. A question sat heavy on the tip of her tongue - Why are you afraid?

And then Vanya saw the blood.

The gash on the stranger’s forehead was a nasty one - not the worst Vanya had seen, but certainly not something to be ignored. She glanced around the alley, as if to find someone more qualified to help, but the only companion to be found was the ever intensifying wind. Vanya was no local, but still she knew the only clinic Snowfell had to offer was across town - and she had no car.

As if in response to the questions she had not asked, the light over the backdoor of the inn flicked on.

Vanya wished, not for the first time, that she was a softer kind of person. That she was someone who could find the right words, ask what needed to be asked, break the tension with a warm quip. But Vanya was none of that. She was no hero, no comforting face. The least she could do was not ask such insipid, obvious questions as, ‘Are you alright?’ She obviously was not. ‘What happened?’ Nothing that she wanted to stick around for. ‘Who are you?’ An utter and complete stranger.

Where decorum failed, Vanya let instinct take over. So, slowly, she raised one hand, open palm faced toward the woman in a gesture she hoped would keep the distance between them and encourage no sudden moves. Her eyes found the stranger’s once again, and held them - I won’t strike if you don’t. Gingerly Vanya slipped her other hand into the pocket of her jacket, and extracted the neatly folded cloth she used to clean her lens. Silently she extended it between them, flicking her gaze to the woman's forehead while dropping that hand that she had held in front of her.

“A storm is coming - do you have somewhere you can go?”

[Ashton_99]

◤XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX◥
Callum Mackenna❈◦•≫
X◦•Tags◦• Adelaide◦•
X◦•Location◦•MacKenna Bakery◦•
◣XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX◢

XThis whole endeavor was beginning to grow into more and more of a mystery. With his unexpected guest
- Adelaide who apparently did not want to rob him blind- being less than forthcoming he had no clue
what to do next. Calling the cops felt more than a bit extreme despite the trespassing. This woman
was strange, but she seemed more lost than dangerous.

XHe watched her eat the cookies like she was starving, all the while Pike was treating his hair like a cat toy. By now getting to go to the festival stress-free was now a pipe dream. Still, this was better than having to stand out in the cold selling food while Miss Randal who always had the stall next to him complained about the tourists that came through Snowfell. So there was that.

XLeaning on the counter, Callum returned his attention to Adelaide just in time to hear her kind-of-sad introduction. Really, how was he supposed to kick her out into the cold after that?

XThen she asked if he believed in vampires and he was rethinking his stance again. “You mean like- with the fangs and the blood and the?” Callum made a vague kind of motion with his hands like biting. “Ya know…. I can't say I do. But what do I know? I make cake for a living.” If she tried to bite him now or something, Callum was pretty sure he'd just have to call it a day and go to bed. This situation was already weird enough.

X“As for where we are, this is Snowfell- we're on the Alaskan-Canadian border.” It was clear Adelaide was trying to hide information. Callum was sure she had many skills, but lying certainly wasn't one of them. “And, look, I really do want to help you out more, but to do that I need you to start being honest with me.” He gave her an imploring look that was really puppy-dog eyes more than anything. “Adelaide, Ed, I feel like I've been pretty chill so far considering you just randomly appeared in the middle of my home asking for food. So please, just tell me the truth.”

X“What's happening, how'd you really get here?” By both nature and nurture Callum was the sort of person who liked helping other people with their problems, but he kind of needed to know what the problem was first before he could help. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

XThe sound of the wind and oncoming snow storm was growing steadier outside. Callum was about seventy percent confident the power would stay on. He was just hoping they didn't get snowed in, in case Adelaide did turn out to be a crazy ax murderer or something after all. That, and he wasn't particularly fond of snow storms despite growing up in Snowfell all his life.

XPike, during this time, had gone from playing with Callum's hair like it was a cat toy, to snoozing on his shoulder. As was her right. She was just a little cat, and unlike them had not a single worry in the world. Callum was feeling a bit jealous of that right about then. He thought he'd have some time to himself to be a little less responsible for a while when his baby sister went off to college. But of course he could not be so lucky, he just hoped whatever was happening wouldn't grow into a headache. He just wanted to make snickerdoodles and whittle for goodness sake.

XHe glanced at the plate of cookies Adelaide had all but licked clean, only a few crumbs remaining. That was certainly one way to get rid of leftovers at least. “Also, when was the last time you've eaten? Do you need actual food?” Sue him, he had a bleeding heart and had a pesky habit of feeding people as a form of care.

[འབྲོག་ཁྱི]

𝘐𝘛 𝘈𝘓𝘓 𝘑𝘜𝘚𝘛 𝘛𝘜𝘙𝘕𝘚 𝘉𝘈𝘊𝘒 𝘛𝘖 𝘋𝘜𝘚𝘛 𝘐𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘋𝘈𝘠 !

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

⯭ ⋅ ──── ⋅ 𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑷𝑬𝑹 xx 𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑺 ⋅

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

𝖲𝖮 𝖧𝖮𝖫𝖣 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖪, 𝖦𝖨𝖵𝖤 𝖬𝖤 𝖠 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖴𝖳𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖲𝖤𝖤 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖨𝖭 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖫𝖨𝖦𝖧𝖳

████
████
████

┌─────────────────────────────┐

│
│
│
│
│

tagging; kal
mentioned; -
note; harper uses she and they pronouns
location; snowfell, the moose lodge
feeling; confused

│
│
│
│
│
└─────────────────────────────┘

Even as Harper stared, their fingers curled into their sleeves to hide them from the cold air rushing in through the open door. She clutched them in her fists, desperately baffled as to how someone had simply appeared on the balcony. There were a number of adrenaline junkies and extreme sport-enthusiasts who came to Snowfell for the slopes, but even the snow on the balcony railing was untouched. Harper couldn't explain this away by telling themself that this stranger had merely felt the call of the heights and clambered up the wall for the heck of it. Maybe she had finally gone mad, and this person wasn't a person at all, but the universe's way of trying to tell her something.
indentindentThe stranger clapped her hands against her thighs as if this was all a silly, ordinary misunderstanding, and exclaimed: well, this isn't the ski lift! A weird sense of relief flooded Harper, as if their mind had been desperate to grasp for any, even mildly reasonable, explanation, and now that one had arrived, it was more than pleased to run with it.
indentin"N- no, no it's not," Harper managed to stutter out. Surely someone had merely forgotten to lock the balcony door, and once it had closed again, it must have locked behind her. Yeah. That was it. And yet, still in the grips of the sudden oddness of it all, she simply moved aside to let her back in from the cold, not really sure how she could go about questioning any of it.

indentindentHarper let the balcony door fall closed again, and made sure that it clicked as a sign of having locked this time. Unsure what to do with themself, they realized the cleaning supplies still lay spilled beside the doorway, and busied themself with righting the basket and gathering the bottles back into it. All done, she nearly dropped it all over again when the stranger spoke again, only to ask where they were.
indentin"You don't..." Harper started, then found her mouth at a loss for words once again. How could she not know where she was? Oh. Maybe she had walked into the wrong lodge. There were others around, it was a ski town after all, and it wouldn't have been the first time a tourist got turned around in the unfamiliar, snow-covered streets. But so under-dressed for the temperature? Um. Stranger things had happened, they supposed. "This is the Moose Lodge," she offered in the most helpful voice she could muster. "Did you get turned around? Do you need help getting back?"
indentindentIt wasn't how Harper had planned on spending their evening, but it seemed she didn't really have a choice. It wasn't her style to send someone out to wander in the cold, and their parents had been preoccupied enough to send her carting some cleaning supplies into a closet that couldn't have been more than fifty feet away. Ah, well. Maybe they could turn it into a small article in the local paper. "Should Snowfell invest more in tourist-friendly signage?"

[འབྲོག་ཁྱི]

𝘐 x𝘙𝘌𝘍𝘜𝘚𝘌,xxx 𝘐 x𝘙𝘌𝘍𝘜𝘚𝘌 x𝘛𝘖 x𝘉𝘌 x𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 x𝘋𝘖𝘎 !

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

☾ ⋅ ──── ⋅ 𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐀 xx 𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑 ⋅

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

𝖡𝖸 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖠𝖸 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖳𝖠𝖫𝖪, 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖢𝖠𝖭 𝖬𝖤𝖭𝖣 𝖬𝖸 𝖡𝖱𝖮𝖪𝖤𝖭 𝖧𝖤𝖠𝖱𝖳

████
████
████

┌─────────────────────────────┐

│
│
│
│
│

tagging; vanya
mentioned; -
───────────────────────────
location; snowfell outskirts
feeling; disoriented

│
│
│
│
│
└─────────────────────────────┘

The breath that silently fell from Erika's mouth clouded into a white mist in the cold, and something within her stirred, staring into the widened eyes of the stranger. She could smell the fear in the air, merely a tinge of that unsettled feeling that slithers into the chest like poison, and beast was fond of its taste. In spite of herself, of the alarm that kept her rooted to the spot in await of an adverse reaction and the consequences of what she had done, her eyes slid toward the sky. The light of the day was fading here, too, as it had been in Everwinter, but she had no clue where she had arrived. She did not know the position of the moon, or to what lengths it would be capable of driving her. And neither could she see it now, perhaps hidden behind the crest of the buildings that rose on either side. But she could feel something, could feel it coming nearer, perhaps a week, or even days away.
indentindentHer eyes returned to the woman standing in the snow some distance away, just as the trail of blood from her forehead slithered past her eye. The woman's eyes for searching, and Erika could not know whether it was for the guards or an opening to flee. Her own foot inched back, ready to turn and run although she had no idea where she was or where she could go from there. Then, in her periphery, a light flashed, and she recoiled away from it, an ache shooting through her head like an arrow. A pained groan rose from her throat, sending another cloud of breath into the air. Either she had struck her head much harder than she had thought, or this wasn't an ordinary lamp, but some kind of magical torture device. Anything was possible. She didn't know this world.

indentindentIn spite of Erika's worst expectations, no shout for help or act of fear came from the woman. Instead, her gaze tracked the hand that rose between them like a gesture of peace, then flicked to the other as it slowly reached into a pocket and produced a folded cloth rather than a weapon. Yet, as long as Erika had spent being shunned by everyone she came across, the cloth held out to her as a kind offering might as well have been a knife. She stared at it with confused eyes, as if uncertain what she was meant to do with it, until the moment stretched, perhaps uncomfortably long, and the cold wind brushing through the narrow space between the buildings reminded her of the cut on her forehead. She swallowed down her grimace.
indentindentSlender, scarred fingers, stiffened by the weather, reached out between them, and gingerly grasped the corner of the cloth between two fingers. Dangling from her fingers, she stared at it for yet another moment, as if before realizing to press it against the cut. It wasn't bleeding all that much anymore, but the blood was beginning to dry and pull uncomfortably at the edges of the wound. Contact with the cloth, as soft and miraculously well-woven as it was, made her skin sting and her face twisted in response. She wasn't a stranger either to pain or discomfort, but it felt different in this world. The pain seemed to reach deeper, and her ability to heal was taking a long time for such a minor injury. Where had she landed?
indentindentIf this woman did not know her face or her deeds, nor appeared to fear her as one would fear a beast, Erika was smart enough not to reveal that she was at quite the disadvantage by asking where they were and making it clear she was not from here. “A storm is coming - do you have somewhere you can go?” The inside of Erika's chest twinged at the words. It wasn't even an offering to take her in, but a polite enough question, the kind of thing one would ask from a disheveled stranger. And no one had done her the courtesy in years. How many kind things could one person do in a mere moment, after the lack of a lifetime? She didn't quite know what to say, but the simple fact that someone had asked filled her with the strange desire to be honest. It was almost like a compulsion arising within her.
indentin"No," she answered, her voice oddly small as it left her, in spite of its usual sharp, serrated tune. A far cry from the command she had last given. And as she listened to herself, the short reply sounded terribly curt. Rude. It had been a long time since she had been able to return anyone's politeness. "Not really", she added, in an attempt to soften her words. Her plan had been the same as always: get out of town and sleep under the stars. But not knowing where she was, she wouldn't have even known which way to walk. Then a shiver ran through her muscles, and she did her best to suppress it. She hadn't expected it to be this cold at her destination, either.

[_humblebumble_]

✦ 𝕬𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖉𝖊 𝕽𝖚𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖙
daemon - vampire ✦ tag. Callum mention. - location. MacKenna Bakery
──────────────────────────────────────────────

Adelaide is mourning the end to her first ever food-meal. Not that a plate of cookies counts as a full meal, even if they were absolutely delicious. She’s also mourning her lack of vampirism, which may be jumping the gun but it’s the only thing she can think of to explain all the sudden changes. It’s not like she enjoyed it, she often spent nights wishing to change it, but she also never expected anything to actually happen to change it. Adelaide has never heard of a situation like this, or else she would’ve tried to trigger it sooner. Wanting something to happen as a vague impossible dream is different from having it suddenly happen to you without warning. It’s a confusing mix of emotions, just like every Adelaide thought in the entire world.

She does manage to listen to Callum’s response, which startles a laugh out of her. With the fangs and the blood and the vague gesture of… biting? Claws? Whatever it was, it’s extremely funny to hear and see from someone who up until recently was a living breathing vampire. Or, well. Someone who existed as a vampire. He doesn’t believe in them, which is interesting. She isn’t exactly sure where to go from here.

If he doesn’t believe in vampires, he’s not going to believe her if she says she’s one, especially now that she can’t prove herself. Which means she was smart for not explaining her entire story right away, otherwise she’d probably be kicked outside by now. This just means she needs to fabricate a believable story in the next few minutes, because her being in here still needs to be explained and Adelaide doubts Callum will take the answer of ‘I’d tell you but you wouldn’t believe me. Anyways, help me anyways even though I’m not explaining myself???’

“Cake,” Adelaide responds, intelligently.

“I mean, hey. If the cookies were anything to go off of, you probably make wonderful cakes…?” Maybe she can get away with not having to explain her weird question. She needs to stall to think of something that explains how weird she has been from his perspective. Luckily, he does tell her where they are. It doesn’t really help Adelaide, who has never heard of this place, but at least she has more information to work with now.

Callum continues talking, immediately making her feel extremely guilty for all her avoiding questions and oddness. Especially considering Adelaide looks into his eyes and immediately feels like she should tell him every single wrong thing she’s ever done. She manages to withhold herself from that urge, but only barely. Adelaide bites her lip, debating with herself what to do. She can’t be honest, because she can’t prove any of what she would say, but she doesn’t want to lie either. Callum has been being extremely kind and helpful to a complete stranger who basically did break into his home and workplace, even if she didn’t intend to.

“I….” After fighting with herself for a little bit and trying not to feel guilty, she decides to tell half truths for now, “I have no idea how I got here, really. I’m not lying… I really did intend to be somewhere else and then just sort of happened to… be here… instead? I truly am sorry that I interrupted your work, and technically broke in by accident. And that I let your cat out. I think I did that?”

She brushes her hands through her hair, a nervous habit that she’s had since she was a child, “I don't think I’m in any trouble, aside from having no idea where I am or how to get home.”

The sound of the wind in the moment of silence brings to attention another factor that Adelaide hasn’t been thinking about yet. She turns towards the nearest window, noticing for the first time the weather, “Oh, also, I guess I don’t have.. Anything with me. Is it too cold outside right now to go without a jacket?” can she get cold now? She’s not sure how much this change has affected her, if she wasn’t technically living before, is she now? Or is she still ‘undead’ but without her powers? It would be easy to test, but Adelaide doesn’t really have any interest in experiencing that level of coldness yet.

At Callum’s next words, Adelaide pauses. She’s never eaten before, but that’s not an answer that’s likely going to pass. She needs to start acting more normal, as soon as she possibly can. She’s already blown it a bunch on that front and made herself look crazy. How often should she be eating? Three meals a day is what she’s heard, but she probably shouldn’t lie and say recently because then it would be odd how hungry she showed up here. Technically, she hasn’t had anything to drink since yesterday, so maybe she should just tell another half truth.

“Um, I ate yesterday,” She responds, hoping the uncertainty isn’t clear in her voice, “I don’t want to trouble you more than I already have, really, thank you so much,” she adds on, worried about taking advantage of his kindness. Really, anyone else in this situation wouldn’t be doing half of the things Callum is doing for her.

Speaking of which, she needs more answers from him. Hopefully he’ll still be willing to continue being honest and helpful after Adelaide has just spent the whole conversation avoiding the truth, “I’m sorry to keep being a bother, but do you know of any place I could stay the night while I try and figure out my situation? Like… a hotel?” Come to think of it, how much money does she have? Maybe enough for a hotel stay, if they use the same money here. Adelaide isn’t sure how much different this place is than where she’s from, is it an alternate reality? Simply a different part of the world that Adelaide has never heard of? Time travel? Maybe an extremely vivid and confusing dream? So much to figure out, so little brain cells to do it all.

“And.. maybe a jacket to borrow. If it’s not too much trouble?” If she can’t afford a stay in a hotel, maybe she can find some place to stay outside… which would probably lead to her brief stint of being alive much much shorter but. She doesn’t really have many options right now.