Simone Scarrow

Eighteen years old.

To pay the bills, Simone works in an Edgetoun bookshop called Grandville.

In her free time, she studies Witchcraft, specialising in Elementalism, with the Circle of Sorcery.

A proud and active member of the . During her evenings, she attends classes or adds to the online resources and tutorials. On the weekends, she sometimes runs 'Elementalism 101' workshops or helps out fellow Circle members to prepare classes. Simone is also one of voices calling for more... 'direct action' to expand the libraries of the Circle.

Simone could accurately be described as two-faced, as she maintains something of double life. During the day, she works in a bookshop and acts . She's attentive to the books, helpful to the customers (even the rude ones) and is generally a model employee. At night, she's a rabble rousing member of the proudly disruptive coven, the Circle of Magic, and about everything she does. She learns, teaches and pushes for more radical (though preferably not violent) methods of expanding their libraries and membership base.

Simone is as a student and demanding as a teacher but not particularly patient as either. She likes to see results and reactions as soon as she acts and can't stand time wasters. She understands the importance of following those rules that are enforced (so long as there's someone watching) but if there's a chance to break one, even a small one, that doesn't come with a penalty, she'll do it in a second with a grin. That goes double when it comes to social norms and the rules of 'good taste', one need only look at her wardrobe or her hair to understand that.

Simone's mother, Ada Scarrow, had her young and with her father out of the picture, worked a full time job and took night classes to make sure she could provide for her daughter while continuing her own education. It was a long road and often a tiring one but eventually Ada had a PHD in English Literature and Language in one hand and a seven year old daughter in the other. Her graduation ceremony is still one of Simone's fondest memories, dressed in her smartest pair of dungarees and watching her mother have her back patted by all and sundry.

Her mother's obvious hard work, her constant studying and the piles of textbooks in their flat were all formative for Simone. She was a hard worker even from a young age and loved books more than anything else in the world, reading voraciously but also taking special care to never wear a book out or damage it. You might expect it to follow that she'd be a star-pupil but Simone was too difficult a student to be any teacher's pet. As a hard as she worked at her studies, she seemed to work just as hard to make sure she'd get called to the headteacher's office several times a week.

They were little things, really, not major disturbances and most of the teachers accepted them as the cost of having such a gifted and dedicated student. Simone refused to wear a uniform, for example, and not only dyed her hair against school regulations but styled into a cascading bouffant. And all through Primary school, her personal acts of rebellion were quietly ignored by all but the most stubborn teachers, helped by her mother's diplomatic overtures during Parent-Teacher Conferences. In Secondary School, however, there was far less tolerance of deviance.

It took several suspensions, the threat of expulsion and finally a tense talk with her mother to persuade Simone to tone it down. Rather than teach to stop being herself, this experience taught her to make sure she obeyed the letter of the law until that law couldn't apply to her and to bend the rules to her purpose as often as she could. Small rebellions, like smoking on the very border of the school grounds, only a hair's breadth over the line, replaced her previous style. Rather than remove the dye from her hair, she shaved it all off and slowly regrowing it, only to dye it again on the first day of the Summer Holidays, and so on.

Things went on like that until Simone was ready to leave Secondary School, much to her and her teacher's relief, where she decided on a gap year or two before committing to a new institution of learning. Besides, she was currently more interested in an arcane area of study, having gone out with a witch for a few months and found the occult to her fancy. Now she spends her days with books and her nights with a pentagram and a runic knife. Still learning, still studying, still (in her own way) rebelling.

Grandville - The musty old bookshop where Simone works and can be found most days, owned by a Mister Moore. It caters to the sort of bibliophile who likes their elderly books a little musty, a little dusty but most certainly all in one piece and with minimum foxing.

The Crypt Cafe - Good cakes, better company and a place where no one bats an eye at her fashion choices? As good as a second home. Simone is on first name terms with all the staff and posts dates for the Circle's open lessons on the noticeboard regularly.

Yelena - Simone's not affluent enough to be a true regular, not when most of her money is spent on mandrake roots, toad's eyes and other spell components, but Yelena is Simone's favourite club and where she can normally be found the night after payday.

Ada Scarrow - Simone's mother, Doctor of English Literature and all round busybody, equal parts proud and exasperated.

Alice Garner - Simone's ex-girlfriend, an active member of the Circle of Sorcery. Currently on speaking terms.

Edgar Moore - Grandville's owner, second in command of the Mutandum Coven, unbeknownst to Simone.

"We call her hook 'cause she's always playing hooky."

One third of the trio but six thirds of its heart, Emma is the kind of friend who'd happily take a punch for you but would be much happier to give one out. She's all wroth and energy, swirling around under the surface until it overflows in a sudden, impulsive action. She's honest to a fault, loyal to the ends of the earth and probably the coolest person Simone's ever met. Not that she'd ever tell her that, that would be like showing your hand in poker. No, obviously better (or cooler?) to leave it all unsaid.

For Simone, meeting Emma was like finding another source of light in the black and joyless halls of the British education system. Another person more than willing to sidestep the rules just to make sure they could be dodged, another rebel to bunk off with and spend the day carefully selecting the most provocative shade of red to dye their hair before the coming assembly. They egg each other on and until neither can think of anything more outrageous to do or are paralysed in a fit of giggles, generally under Laurel's half amused, half worried gaze.

Over the past few months, though, things have seemed to cool off between them. Maybe it was Simone leaving school or having to spend much of her time at the bookshop but they never seem to hang out as much, never laugh as hard. Could it have been Alice? Maybe Emma didn't like her? Or... Is she jealous? No, surely not, she's not... is she?

"Miss Anad down at the Museum? She put one of Alice's pictures up, I like her."

Even in a brief interaction with Kali, it's hard not to like her.

"He's sinker, to rhyme with sucker. Or because he's too dense to float? I forget why."

Laurel's one in a million for so many reasons. He's sweet without being cloying, quiet without being boring and a straight-As student without being a snitch or a teacher's pet. If someone had told Simone that Laurel not only existed but would soon be one of her best friends before she'd met him, she'd likely have laughed but now she couldn't imagine getting through the hell of Crowley High School without him. There was something so reassuring about his watchful, often worried gaze, like he was the mother hen of the trio despite being a year Simone's junior.

And that was it, really, he was just so damn mature. Not in the sort of mature that lectures and gripes at you when you're having fun but the sort that can see the line between acceptably rebellious and A Bad Idea™. All the teacher's used to grumble that Simone and Emma must be a bad influence on their darling Laurel but if it went in any direction, it was a balance that kept them all on the right track. Laurel was stabilising, calming and comforting. The best kind of friend you could ask for...

Until about six months ago. Since then, they've stopped talking, stopped laughing and practically stopped meeting. On the one hand, Simone's anxiety tells her that it was something she did but on the other, reports from associates still incarcerated in Crowley High School tell her that something has come over Laurel. As his friend, Simone knows it's her job to go and shake some sense into him but it's been a busy few months, even with the guilt of not talking to him eating away at her. Maybe this week...?

"He's in with that Brythonic Coven lot but he's alright, he looked after our cat and Emma's dog a couple of times."

Perhaps biased by her own involvement with the Circle, Simone is unimpressed by the Brythonics but Jack's unassuming helpfulness and quiet care for the animals in his charge is pretty charming.

"Don't know the name... Is that that tall woman who owns the Occult shop? She's gorgeous..."

Simone's arcane components are normally bought online or homemade so she's not a frequent customer of The Blue Haze. But you don't forget someone who looks like Indigo in a hurry.

"She's seems nice, I read her blog posts sometimes. They're always super angry, which I dig."

Simone has read any number of articles, opinion pieces and hot takes on the Other situation but few have resonated with her as much as Blake's. She doesn't really know her personal but has seen her around a few times and wouldn't mind buying her a coffee sometime. Just as a show of solidarity, of course.

"He told us to call him Eddie when we ran into him at the park once but couldn't think of a second name, pretty weird."

But of course, Simone would be the last person to condemn people for being too weird, at least not while wearing heavily patched dungarees, her mother's old bomber jacket and a pair of Doc Martens older than she is.

"The landlord who owns a nightclub? Down with The Man™."

Nuff said.

"Emma's dad, he's cool, in that totally not cool way that dads are. Or so I'm told."

Having spent countless nights over at the Renshaw place and having borrowed Colin's daughter just as many times, Simone and Colin are on pretty good terms. He's a bit too dozy and distracted in Simone's opinion but he looks after Emma and never batted an eyelid when Hook, Line and Sinker clattered into his house and started making a ruckus and never told them to pack it in, even if their antics went on late into the night, so he's got his good points.

"Aoife's really sweet, always trying to make sure everyone's having their best day and all that."

When the girl first came to Grandville, Simone instinctively assumed that the other young woman's generosity and all round kindness were some sort of front or trick. After all, no one could be quite so genuine, kind and friendly without secretly wanting something, could they? Well, no one but Laurel that is. A few weeks of working together proved her wrong because Aoife was every bit as nice then as she had been on her first day. The girl still seems too good to be true, almost like some sort of... angel.

"I see him at the Slye Fox sometimes, always drinking alone, didn't know he was copper till he blurted it out."

Chances are, Lang will probably end up booking Simone one day so she's not too keen to start making friends wit the man.

"Gotta love a girl who owns a charity."

Being neither a child nor an elderly person, Simone is unlikely to be a recipient of the Shining Star Foundation any time soon but it's always nice to know what someone is working hard to make the world a better place.

"He's a bit creepy, kind of throws himself at people. Yelena is a cool club though, if I had more money I'd be there every Saturday."

Luka's tendency to overact on the suave and charming vampire front is hard to miss, even at a distance, but anyone who owns an LGBT bar with such good cocktails can't be all bad, can they?

"I've heard of her but I don't listen to the radio at that time, really."

N/A

"Who? Oh, that prowler that hangs out at the Slye Fox? Yeeeesh, yeah, I get bad vibes from that one."

Simone's not in the pub all that often but then you don't need much exposure to Loki to know whether you're absolutely mad for him or would like to keep a healthy distance from him. And yeah, it's generally one or the other.

"Oh my god, Aila is the cutest, saddest customer we have. I always feel bad when we have to close up but she's still reading..."

Aila hangs around Grandville enough to be a familiar face to everyone that works there and you'd have to be heartless to no feel some sympathy for the girl. She's got a worried air to her, like she's about to take flight, that speaks to the big sisterly impulses in Simone but Aila's just shut off enough that it's not easy to make friends with her. Still, maybe next time she's in the shop they'll strike up a conversation.

"Dr. White? She put my arm in a cast after that wild night with Hook and Sinker, she's a little.. eerie? Nice though."

Simone's not far along enough in her Witching to be able to spot an angel but she's attuned enough the paranormal that she can tell there's something not entirely human about Suriel Anne White. Still, nothing wrong with that, some of Simone's best friends aren't entirely human, not that she knows it.

"Listen, it's a slanderous rumour, I didn't embarrass myself when I first went into the Fox and saw her, not at all."

Simone isn't much one for bars but everyone in Edgetoun ends up going through the Fox once or twice and similarly, everyone in Edgetoun ends up charmed by the demonic bartender, or scared by the Vampiric one if they come on one of Eve's night's off. Nevertheless, Simone has had to endure an almost endless stream of ribbing over having to pick her jaw up off the flaw during their first encounter.

"Uh... I think I've heard his name on the news? Maybe?"

N/A

"I don't go in for the Daily Grind much, it's mostly hipsters and college kids, but Guy seems like a sweetheart."

It would be hard to describe him as anything else, given his earnest (and sometimes thoughtless) way of acting.

"... Who? Is she new around here?"

N/A

"There are a bunch of stories about him breaking people's legs for swearing in his pub. Probably not true but you never know..."

Simone's a rebel, not a hooligan, so she's never broken any of the Fox's rules. Still, just one look at the man's tattoos, scars and dead eyes are enough to put her off drinking in there for weeks, only to return when she's absolutely sure it's on of Eve's solo shift.

"I always like to see other people with cool hair, there's nothing so lonely as being a fashion revolution of one."

Not much more to say, Simone's not stopped by the Daily Grind enough to get to know the young Fae, to her he's just another hipsterish barista.

Indigo Bray. _{{Yael Bitton.}}

Twenty-six.

Occult shop owner by day and stripper by night.

Ex-Brythonic. Indigo joined the Brythonic Coven shortly after arriving in England as a way to connect to her fellow witches. However, her dislike for authority and differing ideals led her to leave the coven and continue on without a coven.

Indigo wishes she was a ghost. A floating spirit with virtually nothing to do except move on? Yes, please. She would make a fine ghost, too, with her ʟᴀɪᴅʙᴀᴄᴋ and ᴜɴᴅʀɪᴠᴇɴ personality. This witch would rather waste her time losing herself in the fun of a ʜᴇᴅᴏɴɪꜱᴛɪᴄ lifestyle – drugs, dancing, sex. Also, though not a traditional addition to that scene, Indigo would like to bury herself in studies for the sake of satisfying her ᴄᴜʀɪᴏᴜꜱ nature rather than for the “greater good” or for some holier-than-thou grander scheme. In this regard, she likes to think of herself as ꜰʀᴇᴇᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ and maybe that’s why she clashes so much with authority figures – always trying to tell her how to think. Overall, Indigo is completely unmotivated to do anything other than live a fast pace life with dusty books and slick dancing poles.

When it comes to interacting with others (or Other), Indigo still wishes she was a ghost. On the surface, she’s ᴩʟᴀyꜰᴜʟ and ꜱʟy with small jokes and offhanded flirtations to her conversation partners. Beneath, though, she is ᴅɪꜱᴛᴀɴᴛ and tends to redirect attention away from her with shallow pleasantries and a false-sense of camaraderie. It is not because she doesn’t like people – it’s because she’s a damn filthy ʟɪᴀʀ and she’d rather add to her deceit than for her deep secrets be sniffed out. Sure, she’s ʟᴏɴᴇʟy at times, but it’s better than the alternative of being discovered by her mother.

Indigo Bray is not who she says she is. Her real name is Yael Bitton and she was born in Israel to the matriarch of a prestigious and pretentious coven. Her mother was a cold woman who sternly groomed her daughter to become the next matriarch. Any original thought that Yael had was firmly clamped down on by Bashala Bitton until the only thing left in her head was how her mother thought. At the time, Yael thought it was what she wanted – to study until her fingers bled, learn politics like the back of her hand, take over the coven, become a master in necromancy like her mother was.

Except, Yael could do without the frustration of being a failure: she found the strictly outlined material boring and couldn’t, for the life of her, sit still; her burgeoning thoughts burst forth into conversation and passions grew in her heart; the concept of leadership escaped her grasp when all she knew was how to follow her mother; worst of all, Yael’s proficiencies lied in divination, a passive magic study that infuriated her mother.

The breaking point of their unbalanced and toxic relationship is when Bashala decided the only way to stop Yael’s liberal ideals was to slap it out of her. Yael was sixteen at the time, and her mother only hit her once, but even once was a step too far for Yael. She thought she wanted this, to become like her mother, yet all she felt was built up resentment. Packing her bags in the middle of the night, Yael escaped to England.

The lies started when she found herself on their doorstep, the Brythonic Coven. She had heard through the chatty witch grapevine about the charitable Brythonic Coven who took people in, no matter who. She sought them for a safe place to stay and – the beginning lie – introduced herself as Sarah Button. They brought her in and she studied with the Brythonic Coven for a few years, learning more of her divination gift and giving up on her necromancy dreams. However, she didn’t enjoy her time with the Brythonic: she considered their teaching perimeters stifling while her curiosity wanted to push to the edge of knowledge. She researched to limits and disregarded the so-called “balance” of life despite what the Brythonic wanted of her.

It was when the-now Sarah was nineteen that she left the coven. For a week, she was homeless with nowhere to go, until she nabbed a job at a vampire-owned strip club and began stripping under the alias “Indigo.” Having cut everyone from Brythonic out of her life, she changed her name once more in case her mother got her hands-on information about “Sarah Button.” Instead, adopting her stripper name as her full-time name, she became Indigo Bray with a tacked on stiff British accent. It was around the age of twenty-four that she managed enough money to open her own occult shop that provided her with space and energy to further her witch studies. Indigo continued to strip though, partly because she still needed the money and partly because she liked it.

Somewhere along her journey, her lies built up to hide the beginning ones, and the once passionate youth became a jaded soul engulfed in complacency.

Aednyx, though he generally goes by 'Eddie' to avoid the attention of young Others and mortals.

Appears to be in his middle fifties but is actually 1027, give or take a few years.

Like all fae, Aednyx's visible face is a glamour, held in place this past millennia. It's textured, aged and weathered, a deeper illusion than any but an old faerie would be capable of producing. Nothing short of a grievous iron wound would persuade Aednyx to drop it, so tightly is it wrapped around his body, and even he isn't entirely sure what he looks like beneath it.

• Medium height with a light build, pale skin, long clever fingers and a face lashed by laughter lines.
• Dresses to impress even when alone, so long as you're impressed by tweed and tartan suits.
• Wears different watches, rings, earrings and necklaces, with no attention paid to fashion or common practise.
• Has a high voice and a slight northern accent, gestures flamboyantly and freely in conversation.

Officially, Aednyx has retired from his position of Archduke (right hand of the monarch) of the Summer Court after several centuries of dedicated service. This should make his time free and his schedule light but there does seem to be a different faerie noble, ambitious courtier, befuddled spy, old friend or old enemy (sometimes both in the same individual) in his kitchen every morning, asking for advice, favours or information.

To his mortal friends or those significantly younger than himself, Aednyx introduces himself as 'Eddie' and claims to be a retired banker.

A long standing member of the Summer Court, Aednyx has been active and effective for more than nine hundred years. His parents were minor figures on the Court's periphery but his ambitions were a little grander and by the time he was four hundred, Aednyx was the public right hand and occasional consort of Queen Titania IV and was eventually made Archduke of the duchy of Lost-Hope. Since then, he has spent his time rooting out Unseelie plots, disposing of anyone who tried to move against his Queen and deftly fending off those who coveted his position.

Until last year, that is. Seemingly with no cause, Aednyx announced to the court and Queen Titania that he would be stepping down from his position and leaving for the moral realm to live in solitude. It caused quite a stir and any number of rumours but only a knowing look passed between the Queen and her Archduke before she accepted his resignation. Officially, Aednyx is not only retired but no longer associated with or loyal to the Summer Court. But you'd have to be blind and foolish to believe that.

One doesn't survive a month at the Summer Court without a shrewd wit, a sharpened sense of paranoia, a talent for deception and a certain ruthlessness. And Aednyx didn't just survive, he thrived for nearly a millennia, so one can assume that he possesses those traits listed above in spades. For all that the fae can be tricksters and manipulators, most stick to their word and consider their integrity, or at least their reputation for it, to be of paramount importance and Aednyx is no exception. He is loathe to be forsworn, is as careful not to lie and he is not to tell the whole truth and considers his loyalty to Queen Titania to be unbreakable.

However, he is as paranoid as they come, which is only a healthy and logical reaction to an environment where every subordinate needs you dead to advance. Aednyx doesn't drop his guard or make friends easily and as as a result is trusted by few people and trusts even fewer. That he would bare his back to only a handful of individuals for fear of finding a knife in it is something that he is acutely aware of but it didn't used to bother him. It was, he felt before, the price of doing business. Lately though, he has found himself in want of a relationship not based in mutual benefit or for the good of the Summer Court. A friend, a lover, a partner, he's not sure what he wants. Only that it needs to come soon.

Born on the edge of the faerie realms in a backwater province, Aednyx grew up on the stories of the Summer Court's legendary intrigue and the monstrous crimes of the Unseelie. His parents were minor nobles who took rare trips to court to make sure their were not forgotten but otherwise steered far away from politics. They were not cowards exactly but simply saw no reason to gamble with their lives for greater power. This worldview was not successfully imparted on their firstborn child, however, and Aednyx grew up with wide and eyes and a thirst for recognition and glory.

Aednyx spent his first century of life learning all the things a young fae should, how to duel and dance, the principles of illusory magic and the finer points of deception. There was no school for such things but any older fae could be persuaded to hand out lessons... in exchange for a promised favour or two. And of course, there were always the mortals to practise on, if you were fortunate enough to obtain a writ of passage to their realm or find an unfortunate soul who had crossed into Fae country. Still, Aednyx learned patiently and carefully limited his debts by trading lessons with other youths, sometimes for secrets but more often for promises of alliance when they both reached Court.

And on his hundred-and-first birthday, Aednyx decided he was ready for the Summer Court and set off to present himself to his illustrious monarch, Queen Titania IV. For many years, he was just one eager young politician among the crowd, jumping at any scrap of attention or chance to prove himself. His chance came when he just so happened to be tailing a Baron, more for the practise than any suspicion of sedition, when he overheard him plotting with a cloaked and frosty individual on the edge of the royal forest. They spoke of plans within plans and murder most foul.

It took months and much effort to manoeuvre the Baron into the position Aednyx needed him to be in and several high ranking courtiers were assassinated in that time on Unseelie orders. Aednyx considered it well worth the cost however for within a year, the trap was set and baited. The Baron would be go to a courtyard under the full moon to meet his hooded Winter Court contact and discuss their next move, or so Aednyx's carefully forged letter said. Meanwhile, Aednyx had persuaded the current Archduke to go to the same courtyard in a hooded black cloak and promised that anyone who met him their was a traitor to the throne. By morning, there was a new Baron and Aednyx's star was on the rise.

And so it continued for nine centuries. Trickery, subterfuge and skulduggery, all to serve the fortunes of the Summer Court and its sun-drenched Queen. Aednyx was good at what he did and took great pleasure in doing it, especially his eventual disposal of the Archduke and usurpation of his position. Almost all at Court expected him to continue serving Queen Titania until some assassin or duellist eventually got lucky, so it was a surprise to all when he announced his retirement not a month ago. Whispers circulate that the Queen has sent him out to the mortal realm as a spy or that this is some elaborate trap laid for an enemy but none have so far been bold enough to ask him.

Prospect Park - Perhaps not the most charming of locales, what with its rundown play-park and thoroughly unattended to hedges, but Aednyx finds the place oddly homely. Many a morning can you find him strolling through the park with a cane or umbrella in hand and his eyes roving in search of mischief.

The Daily Grind - The cofffee isn't to his taste and the baristas are young and often sleepy but Aednyx doesn't frequent the cafe for its traditional services. No, he goes there for entertainment, to listen in on conversations and enjoy mortal angst and, should the mood take him, to push people one way or the other. Lord, what fools these mortals be!

Richmond's - Now here is a place to go for service. Every waiter is immaculately trained, dazzlingly well dressed and knows better than to talk to a patron beyond getting their order. Their meals are delicious and their wines superb but it's the view that's most important, a charming overlook into St. James Park. Aednyx likes to come here for the experience and, on occasion, to conduct a meeting with a fellow Other.

Pherakna - The New Archduke of the Summer Court and a regular visitor, delivers gossip and leaves with advice.

Charrade - A young niece whose parents have decided that visiting her old uncle would do her future no harm at all.

"The wolf without a pack dies first when winter comes."

The arrival of Winter and its attendant forces is one of Aednyx's areas of expertise, not that he'd be inclined to lend advice to some washed up werewolf with barely a friend to their name.

"Some people are born to violence, some achieve it and some... some have it thrust upon them."

Aednyx, of course, makes every effort to avoid violence but can spot it behind the eyes. That and the anger, the sense of being wronged, robbed and left high and dry. Not someone you'd want to corner...

"Half the life of a mayfly, barely even time enough to catch your breath, very sad."

Aednyx has seen the boy around, here and there, and knows the scent of a halflife. If ever there was a worthy target for a little life enriching mischief, obviously with a suitably happy ending, there is one here.

"Still waters run deep. Deep enough to drown in, or so they say."

The alliance between the Brythonics and the Summer Court is older than most forms of written language but rare is the Fae that sees it as more than one of temporary convenience. Perhaps if they all had Mr. Lazarus's agreeable condition and healthy respect for the unknown, the Fair Folk would probably be much more fond of them.

"Would that we all were so dreamlike, in countenance and approach both."

Still, if there's anyone a Fae might respect, it's someone not too concerned with the rules of polite society and what the masses deem acceptable. The human masses, that is.

"Always moving, always talking, always engaged in themselves, a mortal of the age."

A faerie, of course, could never be accused of the above. Their speech is eloquent, necessary and beautiful, their movements graceful and themselves so radiant that it would be madness not to be self centred.

"Those of fiery dispositions are usually the quickest to burn, especially amongst witches."

Still, best to watch Witches. Some of them are quick to bring out the iron and others, the worst kind, try to spring out deals. Most of the time it's just a tedious waste of a Fae's time but even master's have stumbled and ended up bound to a mortal's whims. The indignity of it...

"A worthy and most useful contact, though I shall not be frequenting his ghastly nightclub anytime soon."

Aednyx and Alistair have something of an understanding. As the Vampire functions as something of a focal point for Others in the area, Aednyx has asked him to keep an eye out for any particularly strange or suspicious figures and to alert him if any other Fae should announce themselves. In return, he has agreed to owe Alistair one medium sized favour, to be cashed within the next century.

"Oh dearie me, another journalist with rings under their eyes and excuses on their tongue, this town is suffering a plague of them."

There are no newspapers in Avalon, news spreads by the far more useful mediums of gossip and rumour, and Aednyx is thankful for that. If he has to overhear one more conversation in the Daily Grind about journalistic integrity, the moral standpoint of The Capital or the plight of dying print media, he will feel forced into drastic magical action.

"Never was their one so smug nor one so sure of themselves as an angel on a mission."

A neutral observer might suggest that of the humble young woman and the preening older man, only one could be accused of smugness but they'd be unwise to do so in Aednyx's presence.

"A magistrate should have iron in the mind, not doubt and confusion in the heart."

The two have never spoken but Aednyx's hears all the best gossip and word of Lang's presence in the pubs of Edgetoun on Friday nights, along with his signature outbursts, has gotten around. At least Aednyx will know where to find a policeman with knowledge of the Others, should he ever need one.

"Speak not to me of the solitary ones, cowards and dullards to a Fae, with no more principles than they have spines."

A lifelong (and long lived) patriot of the Summer Court, Solitary Fae are considered beneath Aednyx's notice.

"He has the right idea, from what I've heard, but no subtlety or craft. I suppose that's what politics has come in this dreary age."

In Faerie, the framing of a rival is considered a piece of art on parallel with any song or painting. Here in the mortal realm, it seems that people just... do it. Frightfully primitive.

"A voice in the dark, holding back the night for listeners everywhere, how terribly romantic."

Now radio, there's a mortal innovation with some real purpose to it. To have a service like that with a charmer like Louise at your beck and call... what mischief could be wrought, bother here and at home.

"This one stinks of debauchery, deception and self interest... I like him."

Like attracts like, though Aednyx would doubtless argue that he's been far more successful in his chosen career than the Vampire, conveniently not mentioning his early retirement.

"This one need not worry about the Winter, she looks like she knows the burn and sting of it well enough."

One not to bother or test, it would seem, to judge from the look in her eyes and scars on her knuckles.

"It might seem perverse but I've always felt a certain kinship with Demons. The smarter and more beautiful ones, at least."

And Eve is certainly among that group, though Aednyx has deigned to introduce himself to her. She might be something of a kindred spirit as she seems to take as much enjoyment from interfering in the lives of mortals as he does. But her attentions are usually more benign and, as a demon, she has more reason to act that way so perhaps not.

"A beautiful angel who heals the broken mortals? Even I would call that something of a cliche."

Faeries often find that the older they get, the less they care about mortal life. And Aednyx is very old...

"Where it not for his love for the rule of Law, this one would fit right in back at Court."

Just another mortal really but at least one who has some understanding of the need to balance politicking with frolicking.

"Such a happy face for such a sad fate. Commendable."

Aednyx has seen the young man at the Daily Grind but doesn't know him well enough (or rather, has not stalked him thoroughly enough) to know whether the happy face is a mask or how the Dhampire feels. Either way, it's a very fae reaction to imminent death.

"New in town, or so I hear, but with big plans to shake things up in a town already in an unstable condition."

Vampires at least can make plans that take into account the next few centuries of their continued existence, making them more interesting to observe than mortals. They don't have the artistry of the fae, however, and often lack... subtlety.

"It's one thing to have your past written on your face but all over your body? How dreadfully gauche."

That said, Aednyx appreciates somehow who keeps out the riffraff and the (other) troublemakers, though he's never much liked rules that apply to himself in the same way as they apply to the common man.

"Uneducated, unsubtle and dreadfully dressed... but there's potential there."

Oh yes, potential indeed.

"One to watch, or so the little birds say, one to watch most closely."

Of course, no word of the Winter Court's actions could possibly slip to the ear of a retired and now officially Solitary Fae in the mortal realm, could they? There'd need to be a turn cloak among the Unseelie and someone bringing Aednyx regular updates on gossip and freshly gathered information from the Summer Court regularly, someone who would have to be highly ranked enough to have access to the mole and the freedom to travel back and forth from Avalon. No, patently ridiculous, far too unlikely.

Aoife Caoimhe Reilley.

20 (20)

If you ran into Aoife at a coffee shop, a few things would be immediately apparent. She does not fold her long sleeve T's, sweatshirts or blouses but she does hurriedly iron them in the morning before dashing out the door. Her unkempt hair is curly at the ends from a lack of drying while the top is fairly straight as that's where the brush starts its journey down her deep brown locks. Her frantic forget-me-not blue eyes scatter her line of sight, but not like a scared animal, rather, a kid on Christmas morning. Her shoelaces look like they haven't moved in months and the aglets are all but gone, leaving the laces frayed at the ends. The shoes themselves are worn Tennis shoes six of seven days, when she wants to dress up she wears her nice sneakers - obviously.

Once Aoife is able to order her coffee, it becomes clear that she is a bit scatterbrained with something of an inconsistent stutter every few sentences. Her Irish accent will also come through, but only ever so slightly. Aoife, having lived in Ireland for her formative years and approximately half of her life has lost most of the colloquialisms and pronunciations. However she has kept it on a few words, like 'park' or 'car' and 'hour' or 'sour'. Her voice isn’t harsh in the slightest, and isn’t overly emotional either. It is somewhat pulled back as if she is giving a prepared presentation and a lot of her pronunciation has a very forward oral posture. There is a sense of immediacy when she speaks, but not so much that it demands attention, rather just asks politely to borrow it. The last thing you might pick up from Aoife's body language is her lack of self-worth. It isn't incredibly noticeable as she is confident enough, but the lack of held gazes, the introverted body language - some of these signs may point you to that conclusion.

Aoife is finishing her bachelor's degree in pre-med and works at the video rental store on weekends.

.

Aoife's youth shines through every word she speaks and every action she takes. While for a human she is entering adulthood, in the terms of angels Aoife is extraordinarily young. While she isn't childlike at all, her naivety is perhaps one of her greatest weaknesses both as an angel and as a person. This naivety is typically brought about by trying to make others happy, at times at the cost of her own happiness. But, more often than not Aoife's charitable attitude is well received by most of the people she interacts with. She hasn't had the misfortune of being burned too badly, it is just something she is often warned about. Regardless Aoife is not often deterred from caring for people or things. As someone who has been driven to attend medical school, despite not having much to go off of financially, she is against violence of all kinds and refuses to be a part of it as of this moment.

Aoife is constantly analyzing those around her, looking for changes or warning signs that other may miss. She is somewhat motherly in that regard, hilariously enough given her age. But she can't really help it - she has a knack for caring for others and is passionate about it. An example of this tendency is her examination of her friends' outfits, if they're wearing the same clothes or if they look like they are going through a hard time she is the type to follow up on it without question. Perhaps Aoife's most defining characteristic is a combination of the previous three. She changes the way she behaves to match those around her like a social chameleon. She is often willing to try anything to make someone happy, this has caused her some trouble in the past. But Aoife has a strong head on her shoulders, even if socially she is easy to manipulate - she is incredibly intelligent receiving top grades in her pursuit of her Bachelor of Science.

Aoife has had something of a charmed life, which she rationalizes is the reason she is able to commit herself so fully to helping others. She really only had one negative experience growing up that significantly shaped who she became today. But passed that, she was given myriad opportunities for growth, success, and learning.


Aoife's earliest memories are dreams, flying through the sky, falling towards the earth, and being adopted. Growing up in foster home was pretty good for the young girl, she took a liking to helping her younger foster siblings learn how to read. But her childhood zoomed by with only the faintest memories left in their wake. Her fondest, was reading to her two foster siblings while they would fall asleep. She could almost sense just how happy it made them and not only did it make her happy herself, it may as well have rejuvenated her every time. By the time she was ready to go to private school she was on her way to the Edgetown's most prestigious academy. She would spend her preteen and teenage years there, working hard to get into university.

Aoife skipped the sixth year as she was proving to become exponentially more intelligent. It was, as far as she can remember due to her Biology teacher being as supportive as she was. Every A on a test was all the more energy to go out and do it again. But that's when she met the love of her teenage years, a girl name Rebecca. Rebecca wasn't necessarily notable, but there was a single interaction that would pull the two together. Aoife helping a young student pass a test, the boy had been ostracized by his peers. Rebecca later approached Aoife and admitted that it was the coolest thing she had seen someone do at the 'preppy shithole.' But Aoife didn't hear the words, the feeling she felt was as innocent and purely addictive as only teenage love could be.


Aoife and Rebecca would end up dating for a year and a half. Rebecca herself was a genuine, if not reserved girl who really did appreciate Aoife's overwhelmingly positive attitude. The problems only stemmed from the friends that Rebecca kept. They weren't necessarily an overly tough crowd, nor were they very rude. But the pressure for Aoife to drink and do drugs was there from the brisk age of fifteen until she was nearly seventeen. While Aoife was studying at this point specifically to get into medical school and knew that the effects of drugs and drinking at such a young age at the very least threatened her ability to attend post-secondary education, let alone any potential health risks. But, it was more complicated than saying no. Since Aoife could remember the only thing she enjoyed more than the satisfaction of personal betterment was making people happy. That is how Aoife learned how to shotgun a beer better than most frat boys at the age of sixteen.

But it wasn't long before Aoife recognized the pattern and knew that she had to end things immediately. Rebecca was sweet and downright addictive to make happy, but she wasn't worth Aoife throwing her life. So she decided to make the judgement call while she still could. Rebecca who had her B license was driving Aoife around as they typically did late in the evening. Typically the Irish girl would be sitting passenger, forehead against the window while she studied - with Rebecca belting out show tunes. It was a good system for Rebecca, it made her happy. But Aoife didn't bring her notes that night and after a long talk, it ended. Unfortunately Aoife hadn't realized how poorly Rebecca would take it, she was kicked out of the car and left on the side of the road in the middle of the night. It was perhaps to only time Aoife has gotten mad in her entire life.

List character's NPC supporting cast, eg. parents, siblings, sires, mentors, apprentices. Any of these played by other player can later go in the relations sheet.

"Emma's a few years younger than me but she has this amazing attitude. I bet she'll go on to do great things one day."

She's someone that I don't have any worry about saying, I look up to her. It's not really something I'm used to - not because I'm better than anyone, I'm not, but just because she's got something I don't think a lot of other people do, like a willpower. Every time she speaks I see this beautiful mahogany, it has the passion of a deep red but the rigidity and stability of a brown. It's beautiful and so far she's the only one who has it from what I've seen!

"Kali's beautiful, intelligent, she's got it all, I hope she sees that for herself, because it's there."

Her speech is a wonderful honey yellow, with maybe a hint of that same brown that Emma has in her. It creates this wonderful orange somewhere between a fruit and a sunrise. It's something really special to see someone who is so strong-willed be represented by yellow in that way. It shows that while she is most likely a little bit stubborn she is kind at her core. That is something that I think she probably doesn't appreciate about herself. Not because I know that about her, but mostly because no one appreciates the subtle things about themselves, I think.

"It's hard talking to Laurel, he's a beautiful young man and I think he's really kind. But he's so sad."

I- this is going to sound greedy. But it really hurts talking to him, so I try to avoid it. A purpose is a hard thing to ignore and- I-

I hate not knowing how to help someone, so much. I've seen him and Officer Monyethebeng eating sometimes, but I've also seen Officer Monyethebeng drinking and he radiates this false happiness as well. They both have me worried, at least when they're together their colours mix into a beautiful orange, it is... Content? I think that's the best way to describe it at least.

"Jack has actually helped me out once! I found a bird that had its wing broken and he helped me fix it, he seems like he really cares about things which is such a fantastic quality to have in a person."

Jack is an absolutely fascinating man. Unlike most people, he doesn't tend to radiate colour, in fact it only really comes out when he speaks. When he does though it is a wonderful mint green, the most refreshing colour you've ever seen! I think he could really charm a lady one day, even if he does seem a little shy and maybe a bit worried about first impressions! I think that he doesn’t have anything to worry about though, no one that kind can remain without friends for too long.

"No one needs to tell Indigo anything about herself, she just is. I think she knows anything you're thinking about her, not because she can read your mind or something, but because you're not the first one to think it!"

Indigo’s purple is something of a light purple. It is… Kind of empty, it is certainly passionate, but I don’t think that passion is real, or maybe not true? There’s something there, small embers of a will but it feels… Forgotten. But that's not actually all. I think that there's a part of herself that she doesn't really let breathe too much, because every once in a while there is just the smallest hint of a kind of green. So, I think that maybe she feels lost I guess? It’s big world out there, I would never blame her for something like that.

"Blake is fascinating! And I love her writing so much, she leaves everything on the paper and that is just so admirable."

Well we've never met, but she is the coolest writer ever! She is so honest in her work, so personal that I can see a bit of her colour through the writing itself! How cool is that?!

I think it's so cool. I can't really tell too much about her shade of blue but it is definitely blue, a blue that maybe represents just how boundless her drive is. Something like the blue of our planet itself maybe? I'd absolutely love to meet her, I would just leap at the opportunity if I ever got it! I've never met a celebrity before!

"Eddie is a wacky guy, I can't really read him, unlike most people."

His colour is maybe the most unique in all of Edgetoun. Well, not the colour itself which is a dark rouge, but more how he uses it. I swear he is using it hide his actual emotion at all times. Because it is the most consistent emotion in the entire town. I suppose it could possibly be that he has been stuck in a rut for a long time, but that just doesn't make sense to me! I've seen him exhibit at least one different emotion, but without a blink or momentary lapse in that colour, it's kind of incredible actually.

"Simone is so wonderful! I just love having her as my coworker, we have little games we play sometimes - but I'm not too sure if that's out of her boredom or just wanting to get out of there. Either way, I love talking to her!"

Simone is just an absolute joy to work with I think she was a little suspicious of my intentions at first, like I came off as too nice. I don't mind the misunderstanding at all, but that just made me a little bit sad. I hope she hasn't been lied to or hurt in the past by someone doing that, I think that's just the worst kind of thing someone could do to another person. I always try to remember to buy her a drink when I'm coming into work, but sometimes when I'm in a rush her usual beautiful goldenrod diminishes ever-so-slightly not enough for her to notice a real change in her mood but probably something subconscious. I'll definitely remember next time.

"Alistair seems pretty nice whenever he's in Grandville! At first he didn't really take much heed to my being there, but I gave him the patented Aoife smile and he has gone out of his way to be polite ever since!"

Of course, I don't actually take credit for all of that. But once he did start to interact with me more it became a lot easier to read him! He's got a kind of blue aura I'd probably describe as royal, no pun intended though! He seems kind of fatherly - although I've never really had a father figure to look up to so I don't know if I'm really the best judge of that. But he's always making sure to be polite and help me out where he can in the smallest ways, it's very nice of him really.

"Colin, to me at least, is the kind of man that needs to let the sky off of his shoulders for a second. He seems to be holding up the weight of the world on them, or maybe at least the weight of his own expectations."

His emotion is black, but it's not all bad. I mean, yes it is a negative colour, but it isn't the presence of something awful either! It is more like, the lack of reinforcement in many things. At least, that's how I've come to understand it. Up until the day that she left me on the side of the road, Rebecca was a black - and she was really nice sometimes! So I don't worry about Colin hurting someone, rather I worry about him getting used to where he is now. I don't think that'll be happy or comfortable for him at all.

"Yup! That's me."

Well, let's see. My name is Aoife which is from the Gaelic Aoibh which means beauty, but I never really liked my name. It was really hard to teach kids how to sound out words because it isn't a sound out word at all! Which, that was hard in general, um, teaching kids. Because usually they'd ask normal kid stuff like where they come from, and I knew where they came from! So they were very happy and that of course made me feel great, but I was never satisfied with that kind of thing. I know I wasn't born, at least - I don't think I was. I don't really radiate a colour until I'm with someone else, then I can usually see my reflection is kind of a pale pink. It's nice I guess.

I guess my purpose doesn't really apply to me, so I tend not to worry about my own happiness too much. It makes me wonder though, if this was an intelligent design... Why design it like that? It's just kind of... Well a little sad.

"Officer Monythebeng, he likes being called that but he loves that I can pronounce it even more."

It's sad to me, because this is a man who has really practiced looking happy, probably in the mirror. I don't know why he felt the need to do that, but I can only imagine. I've seen him with wet eyes at the Fox and I've seen him really bond recently with Laurel, but I don't know if that's enough. His yellow that he takes on, it isn't a genuine one it's warmth is all off. But, once I saw him listening to the radio and he was absolutely beaming, it was almost hard to look at him - but in the BEST way. I wonder why a radio makes him that happy, though?

"Kei runs a non-profit organization that attempts to bring people their wildest dreams. That is one of the greatest things that anyone could do on this Earth and Edgetoun is lucky to have her."

I’m not surprised, even if Kei is a bit quiet at times she is absolutely wonderful and her voice matches that wonderfully! It’s this beautifully vivid green that absolutely warms your heart to see. It’s kind of like the lushest forest or an emerald even. Kei is someone I haven’t got the chance to talk to very much, but someone I love to watch speak. Her mannerisms and colours all intermingle so well. That being said, I feel like there’s something there that I’m not seeing? Maybe she’s remained optimistic despite something? These kind of intricacies are always so hard to pick out. .

"He seemed pretty quick to not talk to me when I saw him, I think he said something about me being kind of young?"

All of these people in Edgetoun with their reds, but not many are as dark as Luka’s. It’s something kind of unique to him actually. I don’t really know what to make of him, honestly. He doesn’t seem too rude and the fact that he owns Cael’s favourite club is… I mean that probably counts for something? I refuse to see solely the negatives surrounding people but I honestly don’t know what to make of him.

"Her voice is so pretty! I remember being jealous of her accent, it must turn every ear in Edgetoun!"

Her voice comes through clearly on the radio and I can see it clearly even over the radio. It helps to fill Edgetoun with this beautiful twilight pastel orange. It’s a similar orange that comes out of Officer Monyethebeng’s headphones, which I think is very cute! Who knew cops got schoolyard crushes? Louise herself comes across as really optimistic, but I’m not sure what else I can grab from her radio show. It’s hard to tell but I think she might be easily embarrassed… At least when Officer Monyethebeng calls!

"Loki is kind of like what you get when you mix a person that could convince anyone of nearly anything, but also a person that looks like h would try to convince you of something. For all his charm I usually see people put up their guards around him."

I don’t know much about Loki at all, really. But I get the idea that he is generally a man that is misunderstood. Like so many people in Edgetoun his red shimmers in the sunlight beautifully, and that connection to the people of Edgetoun makes me think that he wants to mean something to them. I- I don’t really know if that’s right or not. I don’t know if any of the colours I see really mean something. But I have to assume they do if I’m going to be able to fulfill my purpose.

"Aila is strong, that much is obvious to anyone who has had to share a locker room with her. But that same level of information also clearly tells you that her past is being run from, it just isn’t clear how fast."

I hope the girl is doing okay. I don’t really know of her friends or who she hangs out with too often, nor do I know what she does for fun. But I do know a lot of the bad in her life. The green that she emanates isn’t really happy or energetic. I think it was at one point, but now it kind of seems like a reminder that times have been better and they’re not anymore. That’s what it feels like to me anyway. I hope someone out there is doing something for her.

"Eve can fool just about anyone. At first you might assume she has some tact, but then she just whips out her crazy attitude and super sexual nature and you have no choice but to roll with it or run away… Like I did."

Eve is one of those people everybody kind of knows. Maybe it’s because she works at the Slye Fox and a lot of people go there every once in a while. Or maybe it’s because she’s one of the few French people who embraces every stereotype in town. I think it’s because while you might get fooled into thinking the pale, dull blue of hers is soothing, it’s actually electrifying!

"Suriel is kind of like a hero to me! She’s a healer, and I’m studying pre-med!"

Her colour is kind of like mine, but it’s infinitely better! It is so pale that it perfectly meshes with her entire being and it feels like it is exactly what it should be! It’s really incredible actually because almost everyone else I’ve met their colour is really striking, or it tells me something about them. But that’s not the case for her, instead it’s kind of like she’s exactly where she needs to be and doing exactly what she should be. If she was an angel then she’d be fulfilling her purpose there isn’t a doubt in my mind!

"Mr. Carvallo is the kind of guy that is different depending on what day of the week you see him! He must be really stressed because of work, hopefully he takes it slow and doesn’t hurt himself."

We’ve only rarely crossed paths, it almost never happens. But when it does he seems pretty busy so I don’t try to interrupt or speak to him. I hope that he can find something in his life that will lead him to happiness, but I don’t know that anyone else will be able to do that for him. Maybe I’m assuming too much, but I definitely thinks he needs more than one thing for him to find satisfaction.

"Guy seems lovely! Just where I’d love to find myself one day, happy, earnest and radiating energy like nobody else!"

I almost can’t believe just how bright his blue can be! It’s overpowering and I think his presence is honestly enough to make other people brighten up themselves! It’s something that he probably underestimates about himself, a lot of people don’t realize the kind of effect they have on other people. But I think that he’s better off than most in this town as far as self-esteem goes. I can’t be sure though! I can’t read minds, only see emotion!

"I only saw Eleanor a few times between dropping her kids off at school, but when I did I got the idea that she has everything in the world figured out to a T."

She scares me, plain and simple. But in a weird way I think I also want to be her. She has the brightest red out of anyone I’ve met in Edgetoun and it is hard to even look at. At times I wonder how Caspian and Calypso deal with getting in trouble from Ms. English, but then – I think they’re her weak spot in a way. Not that I’d ever repeat any of that out loud. As far as I’m concerned I don’t think I’ll ever have to cross paths with someone like that.

"I think he’s the guy at the Slye Fox right? I don’t go there too often after Eve tried to flirt with me, but the fact that he has her employed and is managing a sane mind speaks lengths about him I think."

I don’t actually think we’ve met, unfortunately I don’t even really know about his colour. But one thing I do know is about people who own community gathering spots. They’re almost always kind and value people in a way that I think helps others. I know that I’d rather see Officer Monyethebeng at his small booth in the Fox than on the street or rattling around his apartment alone. I don’t know if Mr. Kaminski deserves credit for keeping people together, but I’d give it to him!

"Cael is my best friend! He has supported me from the moment we met during auditions. I have no issue saying that he is one of my anchors in this world. I would do anything for him."

We actually auditioned to be scene partners in a school play, and the people who were auditioning us weren't very happy - it was really distracting me. But then Cael came out of nowhere like a break in the clouds, and said to me: "You're beautiful, you've soo got this. I believe in you... even though I just met you. Break a leg!" We walked home together that night and held hands as we waited for the roles to be called out. Ever since we've had little moments to look forward to like picking up my morning coffee from Cael, us walking home together, hanging out in my room. I love our little moments, and ever since I first met him he's resonated a brilliant blue. It isn't really a sad blue, more like the blue of a beautiful night sky reflected in the ocean. It just makes you feel so relaxed! Except for April showers and rainy days, but the sun always comes out eventually!

"Gemma has the most unique style! She always looked like she walked right out of a fashion magazine right out in front of me. I love it!"

She reminds me a little bit of what Callie is working towards. Maybe not as crazy and ‘spur-of-the-moment’ but that daring confidence to just do whatever she wants is awesome! I don’t know her too well, but anyone with a baby blue that pure must have some kind of wonderful traits just waiting to be discovered! I should invite her to coffee if I ever get thee chance. I think that’ll be hard since I’m such a bore but I’d love to find the chance!

"I’ve known Callie for a fair amount of time! We’ve had classes with each other since high school, although not always, she pursued some English Literature which I think is just spectacular! She’s changed from what my initial impression of her was, but I think it’s for the better!"

When I first met Callie she would’ve been 13 or 14 I think! Well at first, she was kind of like Laurel, it hurt to speak to her and I kind of avoided doing so – although not too much. She has always been this beautiful girl, but her aura was this heavy kind of grey, it hung over her so much so that I couldn’t help but feel bad. But it slowly started to get a tinge of blue to it, kind of like a very light blue flame, I figured she was probably gaining confidence as she grew up and that was a fantastic sign.

But in our senior year when she was seventeen years old that all changed, her slow growth was suddenly finished and her colour wasn’t a grey that hung over her, it was this bluish grey that mixed and mingled with her twin brother. It was somehow exactly the opposite and yet shared elements all the same. It was sturdy, and confident in places where it had been rigid and stagnant. It was incredible and it has only gotten harder to look away as we’ve grown.

I swear that girl has a beautiful, mesmerizing fire in her eyes and it threatens to burn me alive if I stare too long.

"Caspian is so amazing! Just like his sister and exactly the opposite, I suppose that’s how twins usually work. I always have marks that are just a bit worse than his, but he has offered to help me before with schoolwork when he noticed me struggling once."

Caspian’s red is much more similar to her mother’s than Callie’s bluish grey. But unlike Ms. English his is something of a beauty. It is kind of like a flame, but not one that repels, one that invites. I think there’s more to it but it is so hard to tell sometimes with people. I can definitely tell he’s been through a lot – or at least he is scared of going through something with the way he acts around his sister. But there is also this kindness that he can’t suppress that I believe is something completely incredible to be allowed to witness.

Even with everything behind that reddish warm aura of his, all the pain, mystery, and everything else – there’s a real warmth that wants to let people in. He was studying with me for a Bio midterm last year in the Daily Grind and I saw the way that Cael was looking at him so I know he could walk into a room and draw the gaze of any interested – but he really seems like a young man who values family. I love that in a person. I’m hoping this year we can become closer friends!

"Olivia seems nice! Except when she isn’t."

She almost always is from what I can tell! But every once in a while she gets a kind of anger in her eyes and her aura that I don’t really want to go near. It is something really different from her usual polite and friendly self. But I don’t know her well enough to know the source behind something like that and I shouldn’t presume. Cael said it is unbecoming of me, but then he laughed and told me it didn’t matter that much so I’m kinda lost. Either way she’s also in a medical profession so maybe we could find something in common there!

Lang Emanuel Monyethebeng.

25

Lang lives by the philosophy that if you don’t care how you look, while maintaining a certain level of confidence, no one else will either. He shaves his hair into a buzz cut or slightly longer yet certainly still short. He carries himself with a respectful yet incredibly confident air, not doubting himself much at all – even when it’d perhaps be healthy to do so. Lang carries a slight southern drawl originating from Corpus Christi Texas, even though he was born in Johannesburg and didn’t move until he was five. He has certainly taken to many American traditions however, big meals, acoustic guitars – all the necessities. Lang tends to wear a decent amount of clothing, often sporting a buttoned flannel jacket, an undershirt, and potentially a fall jacket should the weather call for it. Though he is also no stranger to the tank and shorts combination if he can find a beach.

Of course, since moving to Edgetoun Lang hasn’t found too many beaches, sad to say as his beach body is something of a work of art.

The young man has a rather welcoming smile and a friendly way about him, often times making sure everyone is involved in any given activity. He stands around six feet four inches and has quite a bit of bulk on him. He eats a very high protein diet and is constantly working out. That is, when he isn’t consumed by his studies. He sports near-permanent bags under his eyes do to his constant late nights, but it isn’t all that surprising for a beat cop working night shifts. He also seems to have a realism play through his eyes whenever drinking comes up in conversation.

Speaking of, his piercing blue eyes betray his all brawn and no brains appearance. They evaluate everything around him and often feel somewhat invasive. Though his kind and relaxed facial features do alleviate some of this, thankfully. Overall, Lang looks like a nice guy, but the longer you look the longer the spool of yarn seems to travel.

First time, long time and beat cop by night.

Circle of Sorcery.

Lang is as self-destructive as they come. Outwardly, he wants to be your friend and he seems like he’s got it all together. He is also fairly well spoken, something that belies his stereotypical cowboy appearance somewhat. He is soft-spoken and contemplative, he loves speaking with another intelligent or passionate person. It is when he is alone that he changes. It starts small, a few drinks when he gets home, some practicing of his transmutation, perhaps his summoning, fatalistic comments about his father, about him, how bad could he have been that his father had to leave? A few more drinks, a sarcastic comment about Lang being yet another beat cop with a drinking problem. A few more drinks. Hopefully at this point he passes out.

Lang when he is with people is nice, but in a distant way. He compliments you on your performance on the field and is off before you can respond. He’ll be the first to pat you on the back if you need it, but you won’t reach him later that day when you send him a message. Even on a good day where you catch him eating, perhaps sit down with him, he has become all too experienced in dodging questions and using those questions to ask you something instead. It is a façade that has worked, but surely someone has noticed at this point. His smile hangs a little too low to be believed one hundred percent of the time.

Lang is better when he has something to do. Work at night and the radio distract him from his busy mind so his smile is a bit lighter at night. For all his negatives though, at the end of the day he is a genuine man – honest to his core.

Lang’s past isn’t too spectacular or interesting. He was born in Jberg and spent the first five years of his life there. Enough to have something of an accent when his mother moved them to Corpus Christi, Texas. His father didn’t come with them – at the time it was something to do with his pride, but his mother wouldn’t explain for more than a few years. Lang didn’t care too much at 5 he liked his mom better anyway. Lang had pretty basic interactions with most of the other kids in school. They made fun of his accent for a few years, he hit puberty first and they stopped making fun of him. By the time he graduated high school he was indistinguishable from any other Texan. Blond hair, blue eyes and captain of the football team – he was absolutely ordinary for where he was. Other than the fact that no announcer could read the name on the back of his jersey, but they clearly meant well.

He even had a nickname that was a rabbit hole until an inside joke. His friends called him Cash as it was easier to remember than Lang or Monyethebeng. The reason was one memorable game in which one announcer referred to him as Land Moneyinthebank. He nearly dropped the ball from laughing so hard. Once he graduated his mother told him about his father, that they didn’t regretfully leave him there and that he was something of an alcoholic – a violent man. Lang took the information but he wasn’t sure how to synthesize it. It was something of a catch 22 that he had found himself in. He didn’t want to acknowledge his father, hell he had barely thought about him for years. But he couldn’t help but feel like no matter what he did it was a response to who his father was.

Lang was looking pretty good coming out of high school, save for his grades. He was something of a local legend with his football play but only a year into school at UTofA. After dropping out Lang was 19 years old and directionless. He spent his days drinking and his nights working construction. This continued for three more years before he decided that he was going to do anything but end up like his father. He bought a plane ticket, kissed his mother farewell and moved to the UK. Edgetoun, specifically – he didn’t want to be known and he certainly didn’t want a reputation and Edgetoun felt big enough that it had other things going on. It took him two and a half years to get a job on the Metropolitan Police in Edgetoun. But there he was, in his new uniform driving around aimlessly, partnerless, listening to a voice on the other end of a radio – for some reason refusing to turn it off. He’d even call in every once in a while. That radio became his single greatest lifeline in an insanely short amount of time. In his car at night listening to her voice is home for Lang.

– A batting cage by the precinct he spends breaks there unless he’s calling in to his favourite radio station.
- It's a pub that's been standing for longer than most of the buildings in town and a great place to get a pint. The owner could be some persuasion of creature given the odd hours of the pub closing at 9 in the morning and opening at 3 pm, but it fits Lang's hours nicely.

Lang’s mom lives in Texas still, and he doesn’t have any friends yet. Just a radio.

"I couldn’t tell you, unless she was one of those girls I picked up outside Pavlov’s place I doubt I’d know her."
Yup just checked the names, no Emma Renshaw in that group though. Those girls were hell incarnate, I’ll tell you that much though. Kept trying to rip my shirt off, think one of ‘em called me daddy. Shit was weird.

"The museum… Runner? Owner? Shit I don’t know, she works at the museum."
Well I only just found out about dhampires a few months ago… So I heard on Stranger Things last week somethin’ about a kind of demo-gorgon? Maybe she’s that, To be honest I don’t really know what’s real at all anymore I’ve got magic, my little buddy is a vampire but also kind of like a zombie or somethin’. Strange times.

"Look, my mama used to say that the best thing you could do for Atlas was take the weight off his shoulders, even if it was only for a second. So yeah, you betch yer ass I’ll buy him a hot meal and make sure he’s okay."
Even if Indigo tells him he’s soft, the kid just… Well he’s too familiar honestly. Lang sees to much of himself in Laurel to even consider arresting him, or even tellin’ anyone else about the kid. If Lang is what it takes to make sure he stays around as long as he can, then Lang will be there every Thursday waitin’ for him.
Lang feels especially bad for those around Laurel. He knows how his mother hates his drinking and he knows it must be affecting those around Laurel for him to have to do what he does. So he tries his best to stay out of the kid’s business, especially when he’s going through a tough time. He has taken to helping him out with some homework when he has time, but mostly it’s just him and Laurel in a booth talking about whatever suits the kid’s fancy that day.

"Well he seems nice, I don’t have a dog or nothin’ but if I did I’d probably stop by."
Shit why don’t I have a dog?

"Indigo? Yeah she’s cool. Weird that a cop and a stripper hang out and practice spells, or whatever."
She’s one of my only lifelines in this strange town. Honestly, sometimes I end up callin’ her in the middle of the night just to make sure some stupid shit Pavlov told me ain’t true. Like fuckin’ garden gnomes are watching me or somethin’. Fuckin’ Pavlov.

But hell, Indigo is a bit shut off, even comin’ from me you know that means some kind of shit.

"Blake Preston is an honest to god savior in this town."
Shit – how else am I gonna know the ten things I should look out for if my roommate is a demon? I mean, I don’t have a roommate and I don’t wanna live with a demon, but you bet your ass I bookmarked that in case I find myself in a position where I have to!

"Well he was a conundrum and a god damned half."
I thought all the fairies were supposed to be like little tinker bells or something?

"Aw hell, I don’t mind playing good cop but I get the feeling most kids ‘round these parts don’t want to associate with a cop anyhow.."
She’s a part of the circle too, but she’s a bit younger than me. I’ll invite her to one of Indigo and I’s study sessions if she ever gets stumped I s’pose.”

"Damn that sumbitch looks young for his age."
I heard he was 34. Hope I look that good at 34.

"Frankly I’m somewhat partial to Blake’s work on the supernatural – but I bet this guy is one of them."
Yup, no doubt in my mind. He’s got one of them lizard people looks that I’m always hearin’ about back home.

"She works at the book store, huh?"
Well, I’ve been readin’ more and more so I’ll probably run into her. But she looks like a nun so I don’t think I’m gonna have to intervene on her helpin’ an ol’ lady cross the road or whatever her volunteer hours consist of. .

"Optional - character's own words."
Description of relationship here.

"This sunuvabitch right here, I swear to shit he has my number in his phone."
And I guaran-fuckin-tee that he asked Aila for it. Probably told her he was takin’ me out on a date or some shit, she told me she was a hopeless romantic. He keeps ‘informin’ me that all this stupid fake shit is real. Like he nearly convinced me that gnomes, fuckin’ harpies, the tooth fairy, werewolves and fuckin Zeus were all actual things.

Fuckin’ werewolves can you believe that shit?

"Yeah, her radio show is somethin’ special. If I ever can’t make it in time I make sure to tape record it for my workouts – her voice is just calmin’ too me. Makes me feel safe, y’know?"
Whenever Louise asks for an opinion from the audience Lang makes sure to hit that number one speed dial. He absolutely adores her show, but more Louise’s commentary. She just adds something that, to him is completely irreplaceable and entirely unique. Indigo, Pavlov, other officers down at the station all tease him for his romantic tone when he talks on the show and his effort he puts in to making sure he comes across well enough, but he doesn’t mind.
Every once in a while he’ll get a chuckle from the other end that changes his perspective. Every single time without fail, he doesn’t need to drink if he’s listening to her.

"Never heard of this one."
Are you making people up now?

"Yeah, the secretary I know her alright."
She’s the sad type, for sure. Feel real bad, and I try to buy coffee for everyone so she doesn’t know I’m grabbin’ her some. I know how it feels to be a pity case. Still though, at least I know she’s human.

"She serves me drinks, nice lady."
Everybody’s always telling me how attractive she is, but I don’t see it honestly. Even weirder, is when I tell the guys at the station they all just look at me like I’m stupid. I know what attractive is and sure she ain’t ugly, but she perfect neither.

"I think she’s mended an officer or two, that’s might fine of her."
But shit with the way this town is going, she’s probably some kind of soul sucker or some shit. God, I dunno, I’m just tired of all the scary shit. How can vampires be real but Santa isn’t.

"Renato seems like an up front man, good on him for that."
I know a shit ton of journalists must be losin’ their shit but the guy seems pretty in control and hasn’t stopped putting out quality work. I check his stuff every once in a while, seems like good stock.

"A guy named Guy? England is weird."
What’s next a dog named dog? Shit I really need a dog.

"Boss said not to fuck with her and if her kids came in, to bring them to him. Kinda weird, but whatever."
Everyone owes someone something, that’s one of the things you learn in this job. That and don’t trust fuckin’ club owners who tell you gnomes are real. Fuckin’ Pavlov.

"One of Edgetoun’s best."
He owns my favorite bar, of course I love the guy. I s’pose that says more about me then I’m comfortable admittin’ but maybe one day it won’t. Should that day come I still think Nico will be a good man in a good bar. So I’m comfortable with where we stand. Nothing seems below bar that could be considered important so what the hell.

"I hate that shit."
People are always puttin’ it in smoothies and salads and shit.

"That’s another one I don’t know, sorry."
N/A.

Colin Peter Renshaw

Forty-two years old.

Journalist

N/A

There used to be a perpetually look in Colin's eyes, something that told you he was plotting a story or an adventure behind his eyes. The head of the Renshaw family seemed never to have more than a passing focus on the mundane tasks that occupied his time, preferring to wander off to some other plane of imagination. At least, that's how he put it. Carolyn, his late wife, called it 'being a dozy day dreamer' and more besides. Generally he'd give a rueful smile and get back to whatever he was supposed to be doing and for a while after her untimely passing, there was nothing to bring him back to earth. He was a listless daydreamer, floating off until life exerted itself on him, dragging him back down to the ground with crushing force.

And now, to put it mildly, Colin has a few things on his mind. His daughter's new condition, his uncertain job prospects, his geriatric parents, his drunken sister, his daughter's upcoming A-Levels, the complaints of their aged border collie, Jack, and the nagging itch in the back of his head that it's time to move on and find someone new to call him a dozy ponce. They all combine to force a man used to daydreaming the days away to be a , and perpetually about the future. And all around him, things seem to be getting darker and meaner, like the whole world's going through a rough patch. Hardly the time for dreamers or, perhaps, the time when they are most important.

When he was a young man, Colin was concerned with being a good friend and then, when he was lucky enough to find someone who'd put up with him, a good boyfriend. He remembered birthdays better than exam dates, favourite foods better than deadlines and put more effort into planning parties than studying. It made him well liked and won him many friends but lecturers tended to label him as lazy or, if they were feeling generous, underachiever. Somewhere along the way, those labels stuck and went on to define how he saw himself, rather than how others saw him.

When he was a husband and a father, Colin thought only of his ailing partner and young daughter before he put much thought into his work. Predictably, his professional life went nowhere fast and he never really got past the level of freelancer in the world of journalism. And unfortunately his personal life was no better, as despite all his attention and devotion, his dearest Carolyn died and he was left to care for their daughter alone. And while he mostly thinks he did a pretty good job of it, there was that little... hiccup six months ago that left her in the ICU and gave a new meaning to "that time of the month".

And that isn't even the sum of his problems.

For most of his life, Colin has worked for one paper or another, writing culture pieces and reports on local events. He never had the drive to claw himself into the big leagues and report on murder most foul or international corruption but the job suited him and the work was steady. But now papers are downsizing fast with the rise of online news outlets, trimming those who can be trimmed or won't be missed and then a few more on top. These days, he's lucky to get more than one opinion piece a month, hardly enough to support his little family.

For the moment, Colin's found a somewhat stable place to work at The Capital, reporting on the Other situation, but he can't stand his boss and doesn't know how long he'll be able to bear working for such a bastard, not to mention the paper's unmistakably right-leaning viewpoint. It would be a shame to throw away a reliable income over dislike and principle but then Mr Crane did compare werewolves unfavourably to rabid dogs and suggested they might need put down, so maybe the day Colin can freely give him a piece of his mind can't come soon enough.

- Colin is certainly older than the normal clientele of this particular establishment, so much so that he's sure he stands out, but the coffee is good and it's a convenient distance from both The Capital's offices and his house so he's stuck there. At least Emma seems to like the place and they let Jack in and give him a bowl of water.

- Not Colin's favourite paper to work for by any means but the one that has put him on a full time salary to cover the unfolding events of the Other crisis, The Capital is newspaper and website focused on London events, from politics to garden shows. It has a glorious past but, given new management, perhaps a less respectable future.

- Every dog owner needs a convenient park to walk regular circuits around and Prospect is Colin's. He can be found there at irregular hours, accompanied by his geriatric but still energetic Border Collier, Jack. Sometimes they play fetch or Jack chases the pond's ducks but mostly they walk a slow circuit then go home.

- The Captial's newest owner, Nigel is an abrasive man who seems to not care much about his employees or even his readers but seems thus far to be a savvy businessman and is steadily shifting the paper's resources online. For Colin, it was when he heard the man describe werewolves as "unquestionably the worst of these repugnant others" that he decided he detested the man. Still, who doesn't hate their boss?

"Emma? Never heard of her. Her father? Who told you that... Oh alright, you've got me, she's mine. What's she done now?"

His pride, his joy, his worry, his fear, his daughter. Colin spends at least as much time thinking about Emma's new condition and her new problems as he does about his job at The Capital and probably more besides. Half of that is sensibly planning for the future, noting down phases of the moon and trying to find a particularly good place to stash fresh pairs of clothes for after a change. The rest is intense regret and burning guilt over putting her in the position that got her bitten, as irrational as that might be. Colin didn't know that a little camping in the Borders would put her (or himself) at risk of a werewolf bite, he didn't even know werewolves were real, but guilt over that night is still eating away at his insides every night and every quiet moment.

But pride is still what he feels most strongly. Pride at the woman she's grown into (it seems like just yesterday that she needed help to walk and couldn't eat solid foods) and of how much of both of her parents there is in her. Carolyn's single-mindedness and bravery, his stubborn nature and ability to laugh off things that aught to make you cry, they're both there along with traits that Emma must've grown herself. She hasn't been bowed by this, hasn't given up on life and still seems mostly sane, despite a bigger burden on her back that Colin has ever carried, and all before her eighteenth birthday. Some days, the worries barely even show through the glow of admiration. Those are the best days.

On most days, however, Colin is the dad who's too much of a dad to be cool, funny or totally comfortable to hang out with. He knocks out puns, dated references and "in my day"es at the drop of hat, never failing to produce a groan from his daughter. Maybe it's the old Stiff Upper Lip but neither of them let on much at their worries, fears and other emotions. They prefer a constant trade of friendly banter and bad jokes to end-of-the-world speeches or constant affirmations of painfully cherished love.

"Museum curator, I think? I don't go down there much at the moment, not my beat anymore but I'm sure she's doing a good job."

Colin's been off the culture column of newspapers for just long enough to have never really gone to any of Kali's exhibits and isn't much of an art museum person on his own. He used to take Emma to them sometimes but they'd generally end up skipping out before they'd completed the exhibition and go for a wander with Jack instead.

"Ah, Laurel's a good kid. The best, really, he gets Emma out of more scrapes than even she can possibly get into."

Laurel has spent so many nights over at the Renshaw place and Emma so many nights at the Binley household that Colin can't help but think of Laurel like an extra child, only one he never had to change nappies for. The boy is quiet, sensible and humble so it's still a mystery how him and Emma became friends. He's glad that they did because he can't really imagine his daughter without the calming, restraining influence of her best friend, given that she's far from calm or restrained even now.

It might seem corny or sentimental to others but Colin mostly does think of Laurel as the son he never had (not that he's dissatisfied by the daughter he's got, not by any means) and sometimes tries a little bit too hard to be a dad or at least dad-adjacent figure in Laurel's life. Any time Jane needed shelves put up or furniture assembled, Colin would cheerily volunteer himself and Laurel for a few hours of manly construction work, for instance. To this day, Colin's not sure whether Laurel humours that sort of thing because he likes it or doesn't want to offend.

Recently, though, Laurel's been distant. Not just to him but to Emma, which is obviously more worrying. Maybe it's teenage stuff (Colin's own adolescence seems so far away but he vaguely remembers being moody and sulky) or perhaps it's something darker. As soon as he has a moment away from work, he'll find Laurel and has a chat with the lad. Whatever it is that's bothering him, Colin's sure it can be resolved with a heart-to-heart and a nice cup of tea.

"Lovely man, very friendly and good at his job. Our Jack would probably be chasing squirrels in doggy heaven without him."

Colin and Jack aren't close (how close are you to your local vet?) but Colin's fond of the other man. He's steadfast, competent and quietly confident in a crisis, what more can you ask for? They've run into each other a few times outside of the vet clinic and Colin always insists on buying Jack a beer if possible but it would probably be a stretch to call them friends.

"Hmmmm... No, I think I'd remember a name like that."

Neither a purchaser of arcane ingredients nor a patron of the Kitten Korner, Colin hasn't had the pleasure yet.

"My rookie partner, new on the beat, full of big ideas and idealism, she makes me feel old. Wait, does that make me Danny Glover?"

If Colin's too old for this shit, a tired working cop whose seen too much to be much moved anymore, Blake's definitely the rebellious, principled young officer, the Riggs to his Murtaugh. She's frightfully opinionated and sometimes a little too willing to browbeat people into submission but then she is a journalist, so at least she's chosen a career where both of those things are considered assets. And at least she understands the myriad complexities of modern social media, all of which Colin can barely navigate for himself, let alone for work.

Honestly, for all Colin's jokes about Blake being "angrier than a box of hornets" or "greener than an Irishman's eyes", he admires her. She's got fire hasn't let it be smothered or even dampened by working at The Capital under the odious Nigel Crane. Blake cares about a hundred-thousand different causes, all with equal passion, and while Colin's too tired to do the same, he's glad there's someone like her in the world, speaking up for those that have no voices.

They work well together, currently tasked with covering the unfolding Other situation in London. Colin does ground work and finds interviews with respected local figures (most of which he knows from years working the culture beat, you'd be surprised how many people a restaurant reviewer gets to know) while Blake makes new friends and gets community members directly involved in incidents to open up to her. They still have to sneak anything that isn't staunchly anti-Other past their editor but it's better than the alternative, especially in this economy.

"Eddie the retired banker, right? Always glad to see another Scot down here but I've never been able to stand bankers."

Who knows whether Colin would like the other man (or, well, not man but you get the point) if he knew the truth? What with all the news about the different types of Others getting around, there's inevitably been the idea of faeries living amongst humans bandied about but Colin hasn't given it much thought. After all, what sort of threat could a faeries pose...

"If my daughter was anyone other than herself, I'd accuse that girl of being a bad influence. As it is, maybe it's the other way around."

Obviously not as longstanding or frequently seen a guest at Hotel Renshaw as Laurel, Simone is nevertheless not an uncommon sight at Colin's house. Generally she's giggling with Emma at something that he never hears or talking quickly and excitedly with Laurel or all three of them are snuggled up in front of a movie. Colin's not sure when exactly the dynamic duo became a troublesome trio, nor exactly what the relationship between his daughter and the girl with the orange hair is, but they all seem happy so who is he to interfere?

"Alistair's a mate and a very good neighbour. We go out for a drink every now and then, less nowadays unfortunately."

Obviously not aware of his neighbour's supernatural nature or his position in the community beyond local landlord, Colin just likes to hear another Scottish accent around the place. He's far too old to go gallivanting off to the Ace of Spaces but him and Alistair sometimes slip off to the Fox for a couple of pints and some complaining about the English. Sometimes, Colin thinks the other man is a bit off, especially whenever the topic drifts to history, but he's mostly assigned it to general eccentricity rather than immortal vampirism. Though who knows, now that the cat's out of the bag, whether Colin will not question Alistair further the next time he lets slip a suspiciously well informed opinion on the Jacobite revolution?

"Uh... Works at the bookshop, right? Seems nice enough."

Colin barely feels he has time in the day to do all the writing he needs to, let alone reading enough so he's by no means a regular at Grandville. On the few occasions he's popped in (because everyone ends up at a bookshop now and then) the young worker has seem remarkably friendly and perhaps a little too knowing.

"The big blonde policeman? I've seen him around but we've never talked."

A holdover from his misspent youth, Colin maintains a general distrust of Policemen.

"I did a piece on her charity a few years back, it's inspirational stuff she's doing there."

As with so many of the Others in Edgetoun, Colin's encountered Kei and thought no more of her than that she's an eccentric human. Her charity is doing good work, as he said in his article, but he's unlikely to be receiving anything from it or to end up working for it so there's not really any reason for him to think about it, or her, again.

"Scruffy looking bloke, one of Alistair's friends? Yeah, I ran into him once, seems alright, lays it on a little thick."

It was in the Slye Fox and Colin would probably have been very surprised to learn that, between his friend, the newcomer and the bartender, there was almost three millennia worth of wisdom surrounding him. Though he'd probably not really know what to do with that information had he been told.

"I swear, some days I'm sure that I'm the only person who listens to the radio, Emma doesn't even know how to work it."

Over the Edge is good to listen to in the background or when you're out walking the dog but Colin wouldn't really call himself a fan. If he understood how to work Spotify or if his walkman still worked, he'd probably use one of those instead.

"Slimy fellow, gives me the creeps, but Alistair seems to like him."

And a recommendation from Alistair goes a long way in Colin's book. As it is, he's not out on the town enough to run into Loki and doesn't go in for the substances that would allow him to encounter the vampire's criminal underlings. So their relationship is reduced to the odd encounter at the Fox, where Colin tends to crack a few jokes then excuse himself and call the night a write-off. There's just something about Loki...

"Always be nice to the receptionist, especially at the Police Station. When you need to talk to someone, they're the one you need."

Not that Colin has much need of contact with the Police, he's doesn't cover crime stories for the most part. Still, he's made a point to be polite to Aila whenever he ends up at the station, normally because of something to do with Emma.

"Why a lady like her is working in an old fashioned watering hole like the Fox is a mystery worthy of Holmes."

Colin's never been much of a lady's man and wouldn't flatter himself enough to believe that she was interested in a scruffy buffer like himself but he's got eyes. How it was that the scary bartender persuaded her to pull pints behind his bar must be a hell of a story...

"Always nice to know a doctor, though you always hope you won't see them too often."

If he knew Suriel better, he'd probably try to make some sort of joke about her name being 'white' but as it is, they're barely acquaintances. Colin's brand of journalism doesn't get him injured and Emma seems to be healing too fast to take to the doctors these days.

"I reported on a few of his cases or know people who have. Highly strung I hear, but works very hard."

Bah, lawyers, who needs them? This one might be one of the good ones but that's not excuse for the profession itself.

"Give me a moment... Ah! The barista down at the Daily Grind, right? I'm awful with faces, you've got to give me a few seconds."

Colin's in the cafe fairly often but he's not the sort to get to know the servers in a place that seems full of young, Blake-like types. He lets her make friends, he just focuses on writing whenever he's there.

"Nope, no idea. The family name doesn't endear her to me though, I'll tell you that much."

Protective parents both but Colin and Eleanor don't really have anything in common that would cause them to cross paths.

"He gives me the heebie-jeebies but he runs a damn fine bar so I think he's allowed to."

Colin's heard all the rumours about the blank faced Russian (or Pole? Or Ukrainian? No one's quite sure or bold enough to ask) and half believes them but he's got no inclination to break the Fox's rules so he feels pretty safe from Nicodem. So long as the Fox keeps a few good beers on tap, Colin will keep dropping by, tattooed vampire behind the bar or no.

"Uh... another barista, right? They all sort of blend into one for me, sorry."

Nothing much to say, Colin orders his coffee (black with plenty of sugar) politely and is always courteous to the serving staff but doesn't know any of them past a first name basis.

"The new photojournalist down at The Captial? Haven't talked to her yet, I've already got a young friend."

It might sound like a joke but Colin really doesn't have that much time in his life for friends, especially new ones, right now. Blake got away with it by being the person he had to work with when the paper hired him and on general charm but Colin's pretty much out of his allotted time and energy for palling up with coworkers.

"Who?"

Not much cause for journalists at the University.

"Alright, now I'm sure you're making up names."

Colin doesn't have much reason to buy flowers these days.

"Her down at the Coroner's? I called her for a statement once, seemed polite."

The statement wasn't actually related to a murder, Colin was following up on a rumour of general misconduct at the Police Station for a story that didn't end up running but still.

Luka Pavlov. _{{Yaromir Volkov.}}

Thirty-three. _{464.}

A businessman, Luka makes his money through investments and is the owner of several hotspots in the night scene across the world. However, his precious baby is a LGBT club in the city called Yelena. Luka also gathers information and gossip for The Collective.

The Collective. Luka is fiercely protective of vampire kind and had joined The Collective shortly after turning; however, it is no secret that Luka is power-hungry for a spot as a voting member of The Methuselah Court.

Luka is a man ruled almost completely and totally by ᴩᴀꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. His heart influences his mind in all matters and so he often acts ꜱᴇʟꜰɪꜱʜʟy rather than thinking about others’. Emotions sway him easily and because of their impact, he has become ᴀᴍʙɪᴛɪᴏᴜꜱ with age. It is not that he doesn’t care about what others’ want, but he is so ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴇᴅ with his own desires that he tends to forget about people other than himself. Because of this, he is very ꜱɪɴɢʟᴇ-ᴍɪɴᴅᴇᴅ in chasing after what he wants and can be utterly ʀᴜᴛʜʟᴇꜱꜱ when trying to get what he wants. As of late, he has become more and more ᴩᴏᴡᴇʀ-ʜᴜɴɢʀy as he attempts to further his goals for the vampire race.

Despite having a bad reputation for being an ambitious dick in the vampire community, Luka has his own charms. Most seem to think at a glance that he’s of the charismatic sort, the way he leans in close when speaking of some importance and the suave way he handles everything. Wrong – he’s a ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟ ᴅᴏʀᴋ. When he needs to persuade someone the most, he tends to stutter because his mouth can’t keep up with his feelings. Though he seems graceful at times, the moment he notices attention on him he trips up. And, well, he ᴛʀɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ ʜᴀʀᴅ to be that suave vampire everyone expects him to be. He attempts to embody everything people say he is, but in the end his ꜰʟɪʀᴛy comments are puns and he tends to laugh too hard at body gags and Will Ferrell movies.

Luka was born in sixteenth century Russia as Yaromir Volkov. The Volkov family was noble in nature and vastly influential. Yaromir was the older brother of Yelena; they were close as children, not inseparable but close. Rarely fighting, the siblings got along well and were very involved in each other’s life. Belonging to an influential noble family, Yaromir and Yelena were exposed to Russian politics from a young age. While Yelena was embroiled in it, Yaromir ignored it in favor of playing with the young noble son of the Ivanov family. Matter of fact, Yaromir was very close to Nikola Ivanov, the heir of a very prominent noble family. They were childhood friends that studied together, played together, and ran away from responsibilities together. When they were seventeen, instead of laying with his wife, Nikola took to Yaromir’s bed in secret. The two had to keep their love affair secret lest terrible punishments await them for participating in homosexuality.

Things became complicated when his father had Nikola take Yelena as his third wife. His first two wives were sent away since Nikola refused to give them children; however, no matter how much Yaromir wanted Nikola to himself, he couldn’t allow Yelena to be disgraced like the others. Matters became worse when Yelena discovered their love affair and reacted terribly – the siblings fought for months. In her anger, Yelena told Nikola's father in hopes of him putting a stop to it. His father beat her into silence as he did not want the Ivanov family name to be ruined. Yaromir was enraged and, to stop him from confronting his father, Nikola went in Yaromir’s stead to challenge his father. Nikola and his father fought, and in the heat of the fight, his father struck Nikola. Nikola hit his head on the corner of a stair and died several days later, hand clasped in Yaromir's.

The day after Nikola’s death, Yaromir took Yelena and fled Russia as he refused to be a part of these dumb politics any longer. Taking the opportunity to escape dirtying the Ivanov name, Nikola's father blamed Nikola's death on Yaromir and Yelena which turned them into fugitives. When Yaromir was thirty-three, Yelena was poisoned while they stayed at an inn just inside of Romania. Unable to protect her or save her, Yaromir traveled with his slowly dying sister to a man rumored to be invincible. The Russian noble son pleaded with the Romanian vampire to turn him and then forced the bite onto Yelena to save her. When Yelena awoke, she regarded her brother as a monster and hated what he did to her. She refused to drink blood and eventually starved to death, wasting away as Yaromir could only plead with her to stay alive.

Yaromir traveled and eventually found himself in Britain. He felt he had no purpose, no one to protect anymore, so he threw himself head first into the thing he hated most: politics, vampire ones at that. Almost as a ‘fuck you’ to his sister for leaving him, he made it his mission to protect vampire lives. He resented his sister for choosing to leave him so much, he named a club after her that was wholly accepting of not just LGBT but Other as well. For right now, he’s laying low under the name of Luka Pavlov in Edgetoun as he gathers allies and he plans to eventually become a voting member of The Methuselah Court. His ultimate goal? Vampire supremacy.

In the vampire community, Luka has obtained a rather distasteful repute for his ministrations in trying to pull power among ranks. Using underhanded politics, Luka has framed vampires in higher standing than him to climb ranks – such as the time he killed a human and didn’t bother covering up everything vampire about it, then framing another member for it. He also is known for not holding human life high in regard, or life in general, and has killed in the past indiscriminately. It doesn’t help that his passion tends to lead him to starting fights constantly among his fellow vampires and has gotten so worked up that it escalated into a physical brawl. Secret gathering, blackmailing, framing, tricking…all methods he uses to become a prominent leader in the community.

"Emma, Emma, Emma - nope, don't know an Em - oh wait. The little gay werewolf that likes to sneak into my club sometimes?"

For the most part, Luka doesn't really talk to Emma. He only knows she exists because she has illegally made her way into his club on multiple occasions and Luka likes to make a point of knowing the majority of Other that come in and out of his club. She's mostly harmless, a little rebellious werewolf wanting to hang with the adults, probably, so he lets her in. He's doing her a favor, practically - let her explore her sexuality in his club, its safe...mostly. Though, if Lang finds her, he totally didn't know she was there, honest.

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"Honestly, when did I become the whole vampire community's free babysitter? I might need to recheck my approach to politics."

Luka knows Laurel's daddy dearest and can he just say how bad he feels for the kid? Like, wow his dad is a dick. But, also, he's extremely useful so if he asks Luka to check up on his little dhampire son every now and then, Luka would begrudgingly do it. He keeps his distance though, he doesn't need another obnoxious brat running around calling him "Uncle" and shit he really does need to stop getting in good favor through children.

Luka doesn't try to hide too much - well, he did in the beginning, but then he ended up knocking over a garbage can and it was a whole mess. For the most part, he pops up at The Canal or that dhampire bar to see what the teen is up to. If he knows Luka lurks or not, Luka doesn't know...but also he doesn't really care, either.

And if Luka gets a little schadenfreude giddiness from Laurel's hatred of vampires and how much his dad fucked up, no one needs to know.

"We made out once and then he tried to talk about my feelings. I don't think I've left my own club so fast."

Luka really thought it was going good and he was going to be able to take the bear home. Then he slipped and slammed his face against his own bar counter - after that everything else went wrong. They made out a little - Luka just hopes it was a "you are endearing" make out session rather than a "I seriously pity you" make out session. Luka thought he might be able to recover from his blunder and get some, but alas the guy opened his mouth and misplaced sympathy came out. Luka is not here to talk about his Gay Issues, no thanks.

Still, such a shame, he was a good kisser.

"A stripper with a true entrepreneurial spirit. We're acquaintances who do favors for each other at most."

A detached witch who hears all the vampire gossip at the vampire stripping joint she works at and all the witchy gossip from the stream of witches that go in and out of her shop? She's useful to have for valuable information and Luka appreciates that. In return for any information she gives him, Luka snoops around for gossip on witch academics from his other witch contacts. Truthfully, she's more useful to him than he to her but she doesn't seem to care either way.

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"They must not be important enough for me to remember them."

If Luka hasn't bothered to know her now, he probably won't bother to know her later. He has no time in his life for people unimportant to his goal.

"Is it condescending to call Officer Moneyman my own personal guard dog?"

Luka and Lang have an...interesting relationship. That is, completely antagonistic - mostly on Luka's side of things. Being the owner of a club and frequenter of the night scene, Luka has a tendency to be around when shit goes down and Lang shows up on the scene to break it up. Most of the time, Luka is completely innocent of the whole thing! Really! Except for maybe half the time, when Luka is either instigating it or somehow involved in it. And, well, Officer Moneyman has no proof so Officer Moneyman can be on his way.

Through the years, Lang has developed from a badge-carrying thorn in Luka's side to a badge-carrying officer with a Luka-shaped thorn in his side. With Lang showing up so often, Luka decided to cut the whole police thing out of the system and now has Lang on speed-dial in case some rowdy teens disturb his patrons. Luka makes a point of calling him for small petty stuff, too, just to annoy him. It's become somewhat of a game for Luka and he enjoys having a cop that, while not exactly in his back pocket, is a contact in his phone in his back pocket.

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"Other than a call here or there, I don't interact with the little puppy playing secretary."

The only time Luka has ever interacted with Aila is when Lang isn't answering his phone so he calls the police station to find the damn cop himself. The less cops Luka knows, the better. Other than those few phone calls, Luka could care less about what she's up to. She's young, packless, and connection-less - therefore, absolutely useless.

"Cute bartender, not my type though with the whole dickless thing she has going on. I asked her to make a house call one time, but she said no. Shame."

Other than Luka asking her to strip at Lang's nonexistent bachelor party, Luka doesn't talk much with Eve other than ordering a drink at The Slye Fox. Though, he does ask her to keep an ear out for some vampire gossip and that he'll pay her for any news she comes across.

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"Shhh! Don't say her name so loud, she might hear you and climb out of whatever hellhole she's lurking in. Last night, I was convinced she was going to skin me alive. I swear I didn't tell Callie that joke!"

Honestly, Luka doesn't know how it happened. One day he's visiting the new vampire in town - an older one, probably has met a couple of others along her lifespan. He figured she would be a good connection to have for the future. Two years later, he's tucking her twelve year old kids into bed while they're chanting "Uncle Luka!" in hopes of annoying him enough to extend their bedtime. It worked fucking well, too. Luka ended up watching some horrid Disney movie until 2am.

Their relationship was supposed to be strictly business for Luka. Yet, somehow, he got inducted into their little family in the span of six months of babysitting. Babysitting! Him! Kids! It's total nonsense, that's what it is! Not to mention the fact that Eleanor has become somewhat of an older sister figure to him and a healthy, rational source of well-founded fear. Seriously, his surrogate niece drops the F bomb once and suddenly he's hiding in a gross motel for a week. Eleanor is both crazy and scary and Luka fears for his life almost constantly. Please, someone save him.

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Kei. Technically it's just 'K' but 'Kei' looks more like a name when put on documentation

29 {135}

For someone that is so quiet Kei's sense of style is rather loud. Though rather short, standing at just about five feet flat, she stands out due to her eccentric choice in attire. Rare is the day when Kei isn't wearing clashing, bright colors or mismatched articles of clothing or bogged down with so many accessories that she sounds like a piggy bank when she walks. There's a very childish quality to her style, like what one would imagine a child would dress like if their parents just let them go wild for a day.

Though Kei wears bright, gaudy clothing, the brightest thing about her is her smile. She's always smiling, even towards people that she's never met, and her wide grin is matched by the wonder that is clear in her bright brown eyes. How her eyes are so bright is a mystery, but they're the brightest browns Kei has ever seen. Much like with her clothing, Kei's hair is eccentric though has periods where the style doesn't change, just the color. Often she'll go blonde for a month and then spend half a year with brown hair before deciding that she felt like streaking her hair in a rainbow.

What makes her vibrant style all the more odd - as if there weren't enough oddities as is - is that she doesn't look like a child; she actually looks like an adult, albeit one that still possess the quality of life that several youths have. But there are blemishes on her skin covered up by cosmetics (which area also eyecatching and vibrant) and a sort of weary-eyed tiredness behind the wide wonderment.

Kei owns a non-profit that takes its inspiration from a foundation overseas. While that foundation is tailored towards children with life threatening medical concerns, Kei's foundation strives to make dreams a reality for children and the elderly alike regardless of medical condition. For children the aim is to have them 'wish upon a star' so that one dream, within reason, is accomplished; for the elderly often the aim is to spend time with them or help cross out things on a bucket list. In both cases the secondary aim is to bring smiles to their faces. The organization is called the 'Shining Star Foundation'.

Solitary. The politics within the Fae Courts never really bode well with Kei, especially when it pertained to the Unseelie and the Winter Court and their dismissal of humans. She's not the biggest fan of the Summer Court either as she finds their conniving nature to be no better than being a liar. She holds little favor with the courts given her love of humans and spreading joy, assuming the courts even know of her; she assumes she'd be shunned anyway.

Kei only cares about one thing on any given day and that is making sure that anyone she meets leaves with a smile or, failing that, a brightened mood. She treats the world and the things she sees with a childlike wonder, impressed by the simplest things no matter how often she sees them. Kei is the type of person who is amazed every time someone turns on the lights in a dark room. This also has he unfortunate side effect of her being rather naive, or at least quite good at pretending to be naive. Kei doesn't see the bad in anyone, still believing after all these years that everyone is a wonderful person and that so-called 'bad people' are just people that don't know how good they truly are. Of course, because things are rarely so sunshine and rainbows as Kei would like to believe, she has been taken advantage of countless times in her life. People have taken every bit of money she had on her person and she would still wave them goodbye and wish them well. That she is so positive could very much be seen as dangerous, after all who was always so damn happy, but with Kei that's just how she is. There's no deep ulterior motive, she's just happy to meet you and happier to help you if she can.

Even still, Kei has felt the years and the countless instances of strife, from small conflicts to larger, world affairs, and though she has remained so upbeat all this time...it's definitely taken its toll on the girl. Her greatest fear is in finding out what would happen if she should wake up one day and not feel positive. She doesn't believe she could handle such a powerful mood swing so she'll continue to smile until it hurts.

And even then she'll endure it so long as it makes people happy.

For the longest time, Kei was alone. She was born, she believes, but she knew only the faces of her parents and the hushed whispers before things went dark. When she awoke, she was alone and lost, living near a mountain in relative seclusion. Animals fled from her; perhaps they could sense the magical energies present inside of her, magical energies which never seemed to manifest themselves. Still, Kei, then a nameless fairy, tried to keep a positive outlook on her situation. She was surrounded by such beauty, after all, the trees and grass, the clouds in the sky, the wind in the air...what was not to love about, well...life?

Her first meeting with others came when her ears picked up the sounds of what sounded like singing. Curious, Kei followed her ears to find a gathering of humans who weren't singing but rather praying as they buried one of their own. Kei didn't say a word, she merely observed this curious act until it ended. As the humans were returning to their homes, Kei met the gaze of a young man; she waved to him but he was whisked away before any further interaction could be made. The man came back a few days later and attempted to converse with Kei. Kei had never heard the language before, but enjoyed listening to the speech. The man believed that she was like the spirits in the stories, the ones that could bring the dead back to life.

The man took her back to his home where his mother had fallen gravely ill. He wanted Kei to save her but the only comfort Kei could bring was to make the sickly woman's last days brighter. The mother passed on with a smile and Kei was welcomed among the humans as someone to ease the transition fro life to death. She didn't exactly understand this, but she was needed, she was loved, and she was happy. Kei was given the name Kei, after the first man's mother, and she lived among the people, learning their language at a rapid pace. It wasn't long before she was actually having conversations with everyone.

But time is a cruel mistress and the people Kei lived with eventually succumbed to their own end. But Kei wouldn't let sadness keep her down, she couldn't. So she traveled, finding another village and living among them. While she couldn't raise the dead, she could ease the dying and that was a valued commodity in those days. Kei's heart knew no evil and is what allowed her to remain so youthful and childish well into her years. While she does understand English (and at least four other languages), she prefers to use sign language or let her expressions talk for her.

Shining Star Foundation. While not nearly the recognizable entity like the one that inspired her, the Shining Star Foundation has became a known quantity within Edgetoun and has expanded its influence to more of the country as a whole. It's run out of a small building with an unassuming front - except for the wacky tube man that is always on the roof. There's an entire room that's set up as a play area for children to spend time while Kei handles meetings with parents or professionals. As it represents the culmination of her efforts to spread happiness and smiles, Kei loves having a place all her own. She'd likely live there if she could get away with it.

Edgetoun Community Hospital Kei, when she isn't organizing dreams and using what magic she can to ensure things are just perfect, is often volunteering at the hospital - specifically in the pediatrics ward. She's been known to dress in costume when visiting or even offer to do non-medical tasks that the nurses are happy to foist upon her.

As far as Kei is concerned, everyone she meets and makes smile is a friend.

~30. (~1100)
^{Born to a Vikingar couple in the Summer of 830, give or take a few decades. His most current falsified documentation lists his D.O.B. as July 13th, 1987.}

Devilishly handsome, is that enough? No? Okay then. With soulful blue eyes and a tidy crop of chestnut curls, one might almost be convinced that Loki is innocent. It is his ever present five o’clock shadow and crooked smirk which betray that he is up to absolutely no good, just like the god he was named for. He stands at about 185 centimeters with a toned and muscular build, but not overly so.

Appearances are of utmost importance to the aged viking — old habits die hard — and as such, he is hardly ever seen without at least a two piece suit, or a lab coat, if he’s working. Scars? Aye, he got a few of them raiding and trading his way across the Scandinavian homelands back in his human years eons ago, but most are faint and easily hidden by his apparel.

Legal Profession — He is a Senior Chemist at the research lab in Redbridge, earned a bonafide PhD and everything! He has a passion for the sciences. Having a well-paying job like this makes for a good cover on how he really got the fancy cars and mansion up on Avalon Point.

Underground Profession — Loki is anonymously one of the main players of London's drug scene. Narcotics, hallucinogens, uppers, downers, you name it! If it exists, Low Key has a man running the stuff on the streets. And the Kingpin doesn’t just cater to the humans, hell no, he’s got the stuff to get the Others wrecked as well. He also has just plain ol’ blood available, for those too morally weak to do their own hunting, but willing enough to look the other way on how said blood was obtained in the first place. Loki’s real pride and joy, though, is O-neg. Being a vampire scientist with unlimited access to state-of-the-art laboratory equipment, Loki figured out a way to genetically and chemically alter human blood so that it gives vampires the effect of being high — a previously unattainable state for vamps, aside from the very mild effects one could gain from the tainted blood of a drugged human. Pressed into tiny red tablets emblazoned with an ‘O’, O-neg does different things for different vamps; For some it feels like ecstasy, some just pot, and some experience hallucinations as one would with PCP. O-neg can take you all the way up to the clouds, and then promptly let you crash through the floorboards. It’s the real deal, and when you’re working with vampire lifespans and immunities, what the hell else do you have to do with your time? Come on, you know you want to try it…

Independent — You don’t get this far in life with a profession like Loki’s by making a lot of noise. Loki prefers to keep a low profile, skulking about in the shadows without appearing to be the threat that he is what keeps his business secret and safe. He isn’t even an outed supernatural, only those closest in his inner circle know what he is, and even fewer know who he is. Being an Independent vampire keeps the older, stuffier vamps from sniffing around in his dealings and discovering things that they shouldn’t. Being an Independent vampire is Loki’s only option, until the day that perhaps it isn’t anymore.

Loki is double-edged sword, simply put. Listening to him talk is easy, a trait that made him a good college professor in his past lives. He is very intelligent and tells some of the best stories you’ve ever heard — who knows how true some of them are, though. And, hell, he could charm the pants off of just about anyone; Can, and has, most likely. Even with boatloads of charisma, he can be quite the egotistical dick sometimes. It is glaringly obvious that his own favorite person is, indeed, himself. And though vikings are known for having treated most people relatively equally long before it was the popular opinion, Loki can come off as a bit of a chauvinist. But hey, nobody’s perfect, and perfect was never something that the Trickster strived to be. If you can sand down those abrasive, crusty edges, you’ll find a real softy inside Loki. He just wants what everyone else wants: to have people who truly care about him.

This section could go on for pages, but brevity is in fact the soul of wit. Flóki Björnsson was born to a jarl and his wife during the 9th century in the lands now known as Sweden. Growing up in the Vikingar lifestyle was as much as one might expect: tough, violent, bloody, but also noble, adventurous, and enriching. Vikingar ideals make up a lot of who Loki is today, and don’t believe all the clichés and stereotypes you hear about the Vikings, they aren’t the savages history books paint them to be. Flóki’s human life ended in a brutal battle across the sea in what is now Poland. It was a warrior’s death that would make his father proud, and earn his place in the halls of Valhalla, or Fólkvangr, he wasn’t picky. At least, that would have been the case, if he hadn’t woken up after, bloodied in a field among his fallen brothers and sisters with a burning thirst in his throat unlike any he’d ever known. Naturally, he went on to murder the nearest living, breathing thing… or ten.



In modern times, Loki makes his mark by finding new ways to turn heads in different locations around the world. Every few years, mostly when people start to question why he isn’t aging, Loki moves and takes on a new name and identity. He takes his business and the money it makes with him, of course, and though his legal surname changes, his aliases remain, as does his first name. Low Key is not fond of the mass outing of the supernaturals, preferring to keep his nature like his business, underground. Nothing good can come of the humans knowing about the Others, not that he fears them. No, they are a fickle race that is likely to bring about their own demise just to get their own points across… and that would make finding a good meal a hell of a lot harder.

KITTY KORNER — You know damn well why he goes here. It hosts a menagerie of beautiful women, it is high class, and it’s frequented by other vampires. The Korner checks all the boxes, really.

ACE OF SPADES — It’s a vampire night club, of course he goes there. Attending places like this is good way to gauge how well his product is being received. Although the Kingpin remains anonymous, he frequently commingles with his unknowing clients to ensure that they are enjoying themselves. Plus, it’s good for him to loosen up every now and again.

SLYE FOX — This is one of the best and only pubs around Edgetoun. Loki frequently goes here for a “few” casual pints with his friends and associates, or simply by himself. They say only alcoholics drink alone, and they may be right, but it’s pretty damned hard for a vamp to be an alcoholic. The best part about the Slye Fox is the absence of that loud, thumping club music. So peaceful...

Jarl Björn, father, died in battle.
Jarl Ragna, mother, died shortly after, giving birth to Loki’s sister.
Frida Björnsson, sister, unknown… Loki assumes she’s dead
Alistair Queen, old friend, alive
Béatrix de la Croix, old frenemy, alive
And more to come...

"Little lost pup… probably shouldn’t be wandering the streets alone."
I’m obviously not the biggest fan of werewolves, but the young ones are hardly a threat. Especially the young and the packless — they’re just sad, really.

"Methinks this one never truly wanders alone."
I know enough of the local packs to recognize a member of their hierarchy. The lovely museum curator is practically oozing with dominance and strength — not really my kind of girl, even if you were to take the fur out of the equation.

"I heard he was a good kid..."
… but the cursed part of being one of the cursed children catches up with all dhampires in the end. I pity them, and I’m happy to say that I’ve never sired a dhamp of my own, but they are useful to me. The lost and broken ones always end up looking for a fix — and their pal Loki has just what they need, for a fee. You only live once, might as well live a little, right?

"What atrocious fashion sense."
Seriously, elbow patches haven’t been in in decades — especially those kinds. I’ve got over a thousand years on him, and even I can still keep up with the times. What else could I expect from a witch, though? They’re notoriously a bunch of rinse, recycle, reuse types.

"Ahh, now there’s a familiar face. Shall I tell you why?"
Perhaps it’s not so much her face that I’m most familiar with... I jest, of course, I’m a much more observant man than that. I know most of the names and faces of all of the lovely birds at Kitty Korner. Miss Indigo puts on quite the spellbinding performance.

"Just another journalist screaming at the world about things they know nothing about."
How very human of her. Does she realize the target she’s placed on herself? Surely she knows there is truth to the stories of how monstrous some of us Others can be, yet she so boldly discusses our kind in the public eye. I, for one, do not want the social justice brand of respect that members of weaker races like herself are championing for. Respect is to be earned through wit, charm, and fear — and we vampires have been doing just that for ages. We do not need your help, for we are not victims.

"This ‘retired banker’ is much farther from home than he claims to be."
What kind of vampire would I be if I didn’t admit my interest in the fae? Lucky for Eddie, I prefer my snacks to be a bit more feminine, and far less geriatric. Jokes aside, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that he is quite the conversationalist — he’s thoughtful with his words, taking care to bend them in ways to perfectly match his intentions, which I can only assume are twisted. I admire that, it’s a true art form.

"She looks like she’s trying very hard to make a statement, I’m not quite sure what it is, though...”
I know very little about her. She’s young and she hasn’t done anything dramatic enough to end up on my radar yet. To be honest, I’m not sure if she’s actually an Other or just another generic punk-rock wannabe, they’re a dime a dozen since the mass outing.

"What good is a king without a Queen?"
Handsome, well-dressed, ambitious… hell, it’s basically like looking in a mirror. What can I say? He’s my best mate, and has been for a few lifetimes. He essentially owns the city above ground while I, well, he’s one of the select few outside of my own force that knows what I really do. I usually move countries before I see a second decade in a city, but having Ali around for drinks and banter is nice, plus Ellie and Nic are also here, and the Others are outed now… so perhaps I’ll stick around a bit longer. Time will tell.

"He looks perpetually exhausted, doesn’t he?"
I wonder if it’s because of his little one’s wolf problem? All of the house training must be tiring work. I’ve not much else to say about him other than he irks me far less than his blonde coworker does.

"Now, I know my moral compass points far from north… but I keep my eyes off of the high school girls."
She is in high school, isn’t she? That cherubic face is practically dripping with innocent naivety. Some of my kind would find that alluring, but I have more refined tastes than the banal savages.

"Good evening, Officer. Could I get you a pint?"
I hate cops. So, naturally, I keep Lang close enough to seem chummy, and just far enough to ensure he stays ignorant. This system is working so far, I’m quite sure the American copper assumes I’m nothing more than the friendly neighborhood scientist that he occasionally tips back pints with at The Slye Fox.

"Another high schooler?"
I don’t believe our paths have crossed before. She’s adorable though, looks like she really enjoys life. That’s admirable… she must be human.

"Quite the charming businessman, what’s not to like?"
Perhaps I embellished a little there, dear Luka is hardly the most charming amung us, but he certainly tries to be. While I don’t particularly enjoy the atmosphere of his club, I make a lot of profit off of it. Luka does not know that I am the man profitting from the drugs that he sees being dealt at Yelena, of course, but it’s true all the same. His business is also my business, and I’m happy to do whatever it takes to ensure it succeeds. As for friendship, Luka and I have something that mimics that, I’d say. We have mutual interests in making use of each other, and that’s what being friends means in my eyes.

"A face for radio? I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed someone prove a phrase so false before."
Louise has a lovely voice, and an even lovelier face. The young vampiress has potential. Fresh to the fangs and straight into the Collective, though I can’t say that I’m surprised there. A glamorous bunch of pussies, the lot of them are. I hope she learns to adopt the ideals of the faction’s more ruthless members, they’re by far the most entertaining.

"She’s new in town, and I can’t say that I hope she stays."
A werewolf that works at the police station? I don’t think that there is anything that you could say to redeem her. Move along, dog, shoo!

“Ugh, the French. Don’t get me started."
That accent almost makes the drinks taste bad. Drop dead gorgeous though, so it’s always worth the visit — not that I think she would agree with me on that. Keeps her distance from me, that one does... I hope she comes around. I wonder what she’s like in bed… hopefully quiet.

"What the hell is that?"
Listen, I’m all for doing whoever you please, but the kids these days with their LGBTXYZ alphabet-soup identities! Honestly, is that a man? A woman? Don’t confuse me like that, mate! I don’t want to have to guess about what’s in your trousers…

"It’s good to see that fashion isn’t lost on all men of this town."
Renny takes himself a bit too seriously in my opinion, though I am sure that he considers his work of utmost importance. Bringing justice to the murders of the lesser folk, how noble. Little does he know that some of the true culprits of the crimes he’s accused innocents of sit beside him in the pubs and clubs that he frequents nearly every night. Foolish, foolish humans, oh so easily deceived...

"Seems a bit odd to travel all the way from Korea just to be a British barista, no?"
I wonder if he knows what he is yet. I think not, for he’d be far less cheerful if he did. There is sincere joy in his eyes in place of the usual dhampire despair. He’s not long for this world, surely the Half-Lives will sniff him out soon enough. It’s a shame, but I’ll welcome the new customer when they do.

"Hot mama."
Old flames oft burn the longest and strongest, don’t they? I do not say this lightly, but I do believe a part of me loves Ellie. It is a strong enough part to know that she deserves better than I, although I will always think of Greece with the fondest memories and a smile in my heart. Eleanor knows me the best of anyone in this town, she’s seen behind the blood-slicked mask of charades and crime, to the inner man. Ellie knows Flóki, Loki, and even Low Key too (with a threat on my life if I ever break my promise to keep the twins off-limits in my dealings). I would trust Eleanor with anything, which may well be my downfall, if it weren’t for the fact that this street runs both ways.

"Don’t shit where you eat… you got it, boss."
Nic and I go way back, given that we’re both immortals, that’s truly saying something. He is one of the select few to know my underground secret here in Edgetoun, and I trust that he’ll keep it that way. We’ve got a bit of a deal, a brother’s truce that we agreed to a few years ago when we were both a bit in our cups, in which I promised not to let my men deal in The Slye Fox. In this instance, my word is oak, I respect Nicodem enough for that. He’s a friend, much in the same way that Luka and I are, but not as close to me as Alistair or Ellie.

"Something smells delicious… I’m sure it’s just the coffee."
Oh, the fae... The fae, the fae, the fae. Why on earth (or Avalon) these creatures feel it’s safe for them to parade around amongst us, is truly beyond me. This boy with his ridiculous hair is a walking box of the world’s finest chocolates, and he doesn’t even realize that he should be treading carefully. Also, if he calls my beverage a cappurr-ccino with a teasing smirk and a wink again, the tempting target on his neck just might become too hard for me to ignore.

“Hmmm. Can I keep this picture?"
I’ve never met her, but I'm really hoping that changes. Love the curls.

"Callie is so unapologetically herself these days, I love that."
The Lady Grey has come a long way from the timid mute girl that Eleanor first took in. She’s clever as the devil and thrice as pretty. I could see her going places — higher places than she might even see herself, but she’s still young and learning the ways of this life. She’s studying the human mind currently, a wise first choice for predators such as ourselves, though she’s picked up that pesky vegetarian vampire nonsense. Still young, still feeling guilty... I’m sure that this phase will pass.

"Aims high and follows through, I would expect nothing less of one of El’s children."
There is potential here and my eyes are certainly upon him, if only from the shadows. I know enough of cunning to recognize the early stages of mastery. It is out of respect for Ellie that I have not swooped in to groom Mr. Grey myself, but it appears that he is doing just fine on his own. He has chosen the sciences for his path of study, and my ego leads me to believe that I have been somewhat of an inspiration there. You only need call once, Caspian, and I will answer.

"What’s the cause of death, Good Doctor?"
Another wolf… the whole town’s bound to be filthy with fleas at this rate. Although, I will grant the tiniest sliver of respect to this one, she’s studied enough to learn more than the simple sit, stay, and roll over of her kin.

(Kawennahere) Aila Atleo.

19

Aila is in incredible physical shape for an nineteen year old girl. She has the fitness level approaching that of an Olympic athlete. She has very well defined core and leg muscles and slightly less shoulder and upper arm muscle definition. She has long black hair that reaches her mid to lower back. She will typically either have one large braid that goes down her right shoulder – or she will let it flow completely let down. She usually wears a jacket that her father used to wear, and underneath that a plaid flannel shirt and typically a pair of jeans, weather be damned. Aila sports a pair of winter boots she found in a men’s room at a pit stop on her way to Edgetoun and doesn’t own any other shoes.

Aila’s body is noticeably scarred, many claw and teeth marks reaching anywhere from her hips to her neck including one rather nasty scar on the side of her throat. She has found that she has a hard time staying out of fights and as such typically has some kind of wound on her face. One notable example is when she was under investigation, just a day after the ‘other’ story came out. She had to reapply a wound twice during the investigation to due to her advanced healing. Her original bite mark is perhaps the most clear scar on her body and it is on her right outer thigh. Aila has orangey brown eyes and larger lips than she enjoys. Though they make for prime biting material. She will sometimes be found wearing a rather simple denim button up shirt. This is notably the only outfit Aila wears when she is attempting to dress up for someone. She doesn’t wear it for a full day very often.

Secretary at the Police Department.

A werewolf without a pack.

Aila is easily excited by many things, and likes to talk to people – however due to experiences in her past with the Mi’kmaq tribe of werewolves, she believe herself to be incredibly inadequate at most things. While she can put this worry inside for business, for example performing secretarial duties at a police station. Aila’s weariness is heavily linked to her former status as an Epsilon. Turned from the age of eight years old she is heavily defensive and dislikes walking home at night – even though she could physically overpower most potential assailants. As Aila has been living a life filled with violence and the murder of friends since she was eight years old - she has a strange relationship with violence. On one hand, it is extremely casual for her to witness. On the other - she avoids it at all costs not due to fear but due to a more complicated sense of pattern.

Aila has only once been in a relationship and it was unhealthy for her. But something in her soul wants her to find love and she hasn’t stopped looking. She often finds herself fluttering at the call of her name and is rather easily impressionable as far as crushes go. She, however rarely fully commits to acting on her crushes. Typically, she’ll out herself as having a crush on a certain person and immediately afterwards distance herself. Forgoing further contact is usually the plan of attack from there. Two quirks Aila has is her absolute adoration of spooning (she is the littlest spoon) and dancing. Though she doesn’t get much time to practice either with her lack of relationships and fear that someone may see her dancing. Her joy of dancing comes from her late mother, who was a professional dancer.

Aila comes from a small reserve locally known as Kettlepoint, do to a large amount of rocks, the tops of which look like kettles located along the shore of the reserve. To visit, Kettlepoint is a nice enough place. Dour weather be damned, the vistas are beautiful and there are a few cheaper bars and cigarette stands. Not the worst place to spend the afternoon if you got stuck there. However, spending fifteen years there can be... More than painful. Aila knows this first hand. Her parents both passed away from external causes when she was too young to make sure she remembered their faces and she was taken in by a local gang who, unbeknownst to the young girl, were werewolves.

By the time she was eight, they turned her in a ritualistic ceremony and from that moment on Aila's life was simpler. She did what the pack wanted and her life was easier. When she struck out, her life was harder. There isn't much to analyze, or anything to say about it - when Aila left the pack at the age of 17 she gave them a diversion and left absolutely nothing behind. No family, no money, nothing. Aila worked in a diner for a week, bought a plane ticket out of the country - the cheapest one she could find that'd get her off the same landmass as her old pack. And somehow along the way she ended up in Edgetoun about a year and a half later.

Aila has done well for herself recently. She's got a small apartment to herself, a job at the police station working as the secretary and she hasn't killed anyone in at least two years now. She feels, a lot saner.

The Crypt Café - It's kind of nice, pretty quiet, and as a bonus they play the exact type of music that Aila loves to dance to. Nothing crazy, just low-key feel good music.

Grandville - The best place in town for books. Aila can often be found sitting in the aisles reading, being told that she should buy that in a non-serious way before the staff go back to their standing around.

There isn't any.

"We’ve spoken, a lot actually. She’s getting something out of it but her questions are a lot cheaper than therapy. I should probably tell her to not miss school as often as she does, especially since I work for the police. But I know she has more important things going on right now."

Ah, it’s honestly scary thinking about her or talking to her. It’s the closest to having a friend that I’ve been in a long time, from what I can tell she seems to like me – so we’re started on the right foot at least.

I don’t really know what kind of advice to give her as far as joining a pack goes – but I don’t think that’s the kind of advice she’s looking for from me anyway. I only know a lot of traditional information about werewolves. Comes with the turf of being ritually turned into one by a bunch of fanatics I guess. I dunno, I should probably teach her how to throw a solid right hook next honestly.

"Yeah, she seems nice."

I know the smell of an Epsilon, the look in their eyes. Always looking for where the next threat is going to come from. I’m going to have to speak with her, or approach her in some way eventually – otherwise her pack will probably chew me alive and spit me back out. But, I don’t want to, I’m honestly terrified.

It's something else when you see someone you know may try to kill you. I think that was her. She might ambush me when I'm doing groceries, or when I'm walking Stef home after a date. I think about it when I wake up, when I shower. I could have met the person who kills me.

"He seems sweet, in a kind of understated way."

I don’t know, I get the impression that he’s nice. I’m a weird age for this town, a lot of adults, a lot of high school students, not too many who are around my age.

"A vet, always good to know one."

I already have him saved in my phone as my emergency number just in case. I’m not taking a single chance with any hunters out there, I don’t know this town, country or people. So yeah, you bet I found the first vet I could and wrote his number down. Survival only happens when you anticipate.

"She’s way too attractive for how much they charge as cover."

O-or so I’ve heard ha. Ha ha.

I don’t know man, a girl’s got temptations okay?.

"Pretty famous for her age, especially considering she’s garnered that fame from her mind."

She seems like a good role model, and a great person to know – someone with an ear to the ground. Maybe I should reach out, I do work at the police station I’m sure I’d be a valuable contact, or something. I don’t really know how to be a contact.

"What kind of name is that?"

Is that a planet in Star Wars or something?

"She seems up front, I can respect that."

One thing I’ve learned about British punk culture is that it isn’t all that different from Native culture. We show our true colours no matter what, and it is often in a way that is to spit in the face of the man, they do much the same. Maybe she isn’t trying to send a message but I like how she operates nonetheless.
She also works at Grandville, I spend a lot of time there. She always lets me keep reading while they close and only kicks me out once they lock up! Frankly, I’d die for her. Not actually, I don’t wanna die, but like you know. She’s nice.

"He owns like what? The city?."

A guy with that much money is either super shady or it’s been going back centuries. As much as I’m usually suspicious, I don’t know I think he’s probably just got rich parents or something. He’s got kind eyes I think? Maybe I’m just a terrible judge of character. Maybe he’s just a bit too attractive for em to properly judge. It could be a lot of things okay?!.

"He exudes stress and weariness that feel kind of familiar, which is sad. I think he’s some kind of reporter or journalist?."

I see him alone around the Daily Grind sometimes, I mean he has his dog, but I don’t know he just seems really lonely. I might be reading into it I can’t really tell honestly.

"She’s, really nice – actually."

I mean seriously, I don’t know if there’s anything else I can say about her. But it was to the point where I was legitimately worried about my safety. No one is that nice, it’s freaky, she’s freaky.

"I mean, everyone knows that the hottest cop in town works nights. Don’t tell anyone I said that!"

I can’t help it, the guy looks like an American for sure, some kind of Hollywood guy? I can’t tell, but the fact that he’s a cop now means that it is most preferable for me to be arrested at night..

"Kei seems like so much fun!"

I don’t really want to drag her down by forcing a friendship or something, but she seems fun. Stef would probably tell me to get to know her that I need more friends, but I dunno. I think it’d just make me feel a bit lonelier.

"He’s got one of those permanent scruffy beards where I always wonder how they keep it so perfectly scruffy."

He owns some club in the city that was declared an other-friendly zone. But I’m not setting foot within a hundred yards of there, short of someone forcing me. I know what that kind of branding does to a place.

Here’s a hint, it paints a bullseye on it for anyone with a gun and a disagreeing opinion. I’ll keep Stef away from there too.

"That girl on the radio?"

I only know she must be some kind of other, I’d bet vamp. Works all night sleeps all day? It couldn’t be more obvious..

"Who is actually named Loki? That’s like being named jerk."

I do not actually know who this man is. Sounds like a nice guy though if it wasn’t for the evil van cool name!

"I got no words."

Let’s just say there’s one reason the Slye fox is still in business and everyone knows it.

"Wow that is a beautiful name, I wonder where she’s from?"

It feels oddly familiar, but I feel like I’d remember if I ran into someone like that at the station. .

"People think I’m the weak spot of the station because I’m the young receptionist so I fully except to be ambushed by him at some point."

Maybe that’s a little bit presumptuous of me to assume he’s some kind of paparazzo. He doesn’t seem overly rude or anything.

"I ran into Guy once, like literally I smashed into him. He apologized in twelve different ways, bought me a coffee and sent me on my way. It was like a whirlwind of kindness I honestly was not prepared for."

I think a lot of people can tell I’m… the way I am and they always try to fix it, you know? But he just came up and made my whole day this… I don’t know it was just really nice of him.

"I know of her, heard some chatter down at the station with her name."

I swear to god there’s a girl in my class who looks kind of like her, maybe she’s her daughter?

"Yeah, sure we all know Mr. Kaminski he owns the Slye Fox."

He seems like a nice enough guy, although there’s all these scary rumors about him and I don’t want to get involved with anything like that. I’ve had enough violence in my life that none of that is required.

"His hair! Oh my god his hair it is so cool, it is the coolest thing."

His hair!!! It’s a different colour every single time I’ve seen it I swear to god. I lose my mind. I, I don’t even know him though. He’s my age though! I should get to know him!

"I’ve never met her but that is the kind of name I absolutely adore."

My mum would’ve said that it was a stripper name though. Wait, is she a stripper?

Dr. Suriel Anne White

Early 30’s. (Ageless)

Seven years ago, when Suriel first arrived, their hair fell chin-length in soft yellow curls. Now they wear it cropped short on the sides, longest on top, and platinum blond in color. Bright blue-green eyes stare in stark contrast to a pale white complexion. As far as style goes, Suriel is just as likely to be seen wearing a suit and tie as they are a dress, it's whatever they prefer that day, really. They are always well-dressed for any occasion, as fashion has proved to be one of the more entertaining aspects of life on Earth. Not a single ounce of makeup has ever touched the angel’s face, making their pale features seem all the more ethereal. Their voice is an even tenor and they stand at a tall 183cm with a broad and relatively flat chest, and a lithe frame. Overall, their entire look lives and breathes androgyny.

Medical Resident in the Neurosurgery Unit of Edgetoun Memorial Hospital

Angel — Suriel’s goal is to serve, assist, and enrich humanity with their specific Duty being healing.

Suriel was sent here with one goal: to be a healer of the people. They have studied and worked tirelessly to accomplish this goal and hope to eventually earn their way back to their golden home. Suriel was more than happy to be a diligent student and seeks to continue learning about diseases of the mind and body. The human brain is of particular interest, hence Suriel’s residency specialization in neurosurgery. Suriel believes that understanding is the first step towards truly helping a person. That being said, they are prone to judgement and, unfortunately, they tend to judge the sinner rather than the sin itself — which is a self-recognized personal fault. This judgemental behavior is relatively recent, and possibly a form of psychological projection.

Since beginning their residency at the hospital, Suriel has had… feelings. First, it was the handsome doctor in charge of cardiology, and then it was the pretty ginger nurse in pediatrics. Lustful thoughts and urges seeded themselves in their mind. Suriel has yet to act on them, and sees them for what they are: sin. Yet, the temptation is always there, and staying on the righteous path gets harder every day.

The Beginning
“¹ In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. ² Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.

³ And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. ⁴ God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. ⁵ God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.”
— Genesis 1:1-8

Long before Suriel came to Earth and took on an English surname, they watched the birth and growth of humanity under the will of Creation. In the vastness of time and space that is the golden city, they also saw the death of man. And so was born their task: to heal the bodies and souls of the broken. The wayward children must be guided to the path of righteousness.



Suriel was one of the few angels to land as a full-grown adult. They had to become a legitimate person, so they followed their vague clairvoyant visions, which lead to a person who could help them become a bonafide citizen. Bending the law served the greater good in working towards their Duty, so Suriel was willing to look the other way in this instance. Suriel enrolled in university, where they studied pre-medicine, and then went on to study medicine further, with specializations in psychology and neurology. They obtained their medical doctorate and are currently serving as a resident in the neurosurgery unit of Edgetoun Memorial Hospital.

EDGETOUN MEMORIAL HOSPITAL — Suriel spends more time in their workplace than they do in any other place, including their own apartment. Though they work well over the standard forty hours a week, Suriel does not tire of their work. This is their calling and their purpose. EMH is the largest hospital in the area and it is exceedingly average in terms of funding for medical devices and machinery.

GRANDVILLE — The angel loves a good read, whether it be for work, or for pleasure. Discovering hidden gems in the old pages and enjoying the cozy atmosphere is a favored pastime in the rare instances that Suriel has a few moments of free time.

PROSPECT PARK — Taking a stroll through this glorious area of reclaimed natural beauty is refreshing. Suriel frequents this area mostly because it is located on the walk between their apartment and the nearest underground station to travel to work.

OUR MOTHER OF MERCY — When Suriel is not working, sleeping, eating, or spending a few hours to themself to rest, they are donating their time to charity. Suriel often volunteers in the soup kitchen at Mercy and assists in comforting and caring for the lost and downtrodden souls that find their way to this quiet place of sanctuary. Our Mother of Mercy also serves as a full time Anglican church, which Suriel attends the services of every Sunday morning.

Evelyn de les Beauchamp et Lumieres.

24. (95)

Bartender at The Slye Fox.

Nah.

Frankly, there are some weird stereotypes for lust demons. It’s not all ‘I want to get at your bits’ and nothing else. Lust is read as strictly sexual, but people forget about those who lust for power, conquest, and all the other essentials for a fun Friday night. But, well when Eve is concerned you’d be forgiven for not remembering how singular lust can be. Eve is a very singular person, she can make you feel like you’re the only person in the world or just one of a million.. Eve is a sucker, however, for a friend. She may not act like it, she may even lie to herself about it, but Eve hates being alone. She works a social job, lives with a girl that is the source thousands of people get their news from, she likes the white noise of her life. She enjoys the hustle, there isn’t a doubt about that.

Past all that though Eve is a force to be reckoned with when it comes to three things. Mixing drinks, social… Engagements, and loyalty. A mate is a mate for a night, a friend is a friend for life – As Eve likes to remind people. She has something of complex emotions surrounding other people, granted you wouldn’t know this by the way she acts, but one might infer through her actions. She is almost begging for attention in certain situations – not exactly an oddity among lust demons. All that to say, she has her flaws – even if she is confident to no apparent end and could be a textbook definition for the antonym of shy.

Eve keeps her background pretty low key, but one of the few times she was drunkenly ranting to Blake about her past she did let a small story slip.

At one point in her life, when she was still living in France or perhaps Quebec no doubt, she mentioned a war. It isn't clear which one, but she doesn't look a day older than 25 so it's probably Afghanistan right?

The story drones on, it isn't all that interesting. She was with a nurse at the time, he goes off to war - the usual sappy story about writing and writing. Eventually Eve is delivered a coffin and a flag. She keeps the flag in her suitcase, folded incredibly neatly. It is around this point in the story that Eve gets quiet and even vaguer. Something about making amends, and showing them the consequences of their actions. She then showed her friend her scar, and after a truly strange fifteen seconds of silence laughed it off as some old bullshit that doesn't matter anymore and went to her room.

There are seeming holes in the story, how could she have been old enough to be with someone during the time of a war? What are the consequences she talked about? Eve is nothing if not an enigma, as is her history.

ᴋɪᴛᴛy ᴋᴏʀɴᴇʀ ➞ On slow nights for the bar, or just when Eve wants to pick up some extra money she strips here. She isn’t a regular but rather a once a week kind of girl, every once in a while she’ll also attend as a voyeur. Lust demon gonna lust. Her stage name is Lights.
The Slye Fox ➞ A small old creaky pub that Eve works at. It hosts primarily two crowds. Tough guys that drink tough beer because they’re tough, and a lot of hipsters looking for something ‘classic’.

.

"She’s a little firecracker isn’t she? She’ll go far with an attitude like that."

Eh I’d serve her if she came in. Think Nico would mind too much? Probably. But hell, she’s a cute one and she reminds me too much of myself to resist. Frankly it’s a wonder she hasn’t already come in. Although I’m sure there’s a cooler bar or club that she frequents I just get that vibe from her.

"Yeah, I mean, damn."

Named after the goddess of destruction, I’ll probably keep a wide berth – but with a face like that she could get me to come a little bit closer, she’s my kind of woman. She seems fine though, nothing that I’ll have to protect… My apartment from.

"Dhamp’s drink free, house rules."

Most others live for as long or longer than humans. These kids really get the raw end of the stick, as far as I’m concerned they’re welcome anytime in the bar. I’m not going to say shit to the cops or Nico about one of them asking for some liquid Advil. Can’t say it’s ethical to be feeding alcohol to a 17 year old kid, but what would you do if someone who was less than 20 years out of dying from old age came you’re your bar. Because I’d start pouring shots.

"He’s the one that fixes everyone’s dogs? How bad could he be?."

Part of me hopes he’s at least a little bad. At least in the way that makes Blake all chastisey and red. He’s a looker, there’s no doubt about it. I wonder if Blake is into older men… It’s worth asking, at least a few dozen times – in case she’s embarrassed. Strictly to help her out, of course. Regardless, in case we adopt a dog it’s good to know there’s someone reliable in town..

"Works for me."

I’m not planning on thinking about her too much. When I’m with her she has my full attention, but if I want to see her next week it’s best if I don’t think too hard about what we mean to each other and where we’ll be in another week, or a month. I-

I don’t really want to think about it. The way I act around her reminds me of the way my neighbor acts around me, which tells me I should probably take him out for coffee at some point.

"My little Blakey angel cakey. She’ll make someone very happy one day – or she’ll keep whining about the cost of her reduced rent for living with me, coin flip really."

Blake is at all times my soulmate, best friend, Tamagotchi, pet rat, Clark Kent, and mother. Needless to say our relationship transcends the trashy Thai food and Netflix we consume together. People never really know what to make of us, but that’s alright because I don’t know if we’ve made everything of each other yet either. I think I’m going to tell her about everything… I hope she doesn’t become afraid of me or something.

But she wouldn’t. It’s Blake. She’s one of the best girls you could meet. But I’ll never tell her that. Still, if she ever needed something or someone hurt her in some way… Well I’d burn Edgetoun to the ground either getting what she needed or my own revenge. I don’t know why or how we became so close over this past year of living with each other. But at some point my bugging her for cuddles turned into cuddles. My complaining about never having anyone to shop with turned into mall trips.

I don’t know it’s nice having a friend again.

"Honestly, I don’t know."

I couldn’t tell you a thing about the guy. Scares me a bit – mainly for that reason. But from what I’ve seen of him around town he is out in the sunlight enough to not be planning anything major or be so confident in his plans that he’s going to run this town into the ground. Make of that what you will but take it from a demon when I say you might wanna stay away.

"Simone, hm? I think Blake told me she works at the bookstore – haven’t had the pleasure of introducing myself yet, but if there were ever a potential protégé..."

She’s got the look in spades and the attitude on even tighter lock. I like her, honestly there isn’t much to dislike with this one. I appreciate what she stands for and that she stands for it. I have no bead on her as far as other-status which makes me lean towards human. But I’m not too sure, she seems young..

"He is the tool I use to embarrass Blake on the regular."

He is generally attractive enough for me to make jokes about him fixing our plumbing to Blake. And I thank him for that every chance I get. Of course, he doesn’t play ball but he’s got enough mystery in him to keep me curious for the next while. Chances that he’s human? I’d say 70-30 against. But it’s hard to tell nowadays..

"We, in the Eve and Blake household do not like competition, sorry Colin."
He’s a cutie, but Blake would kill me so it’s hands off until she decides she doesn’t want to win the hearts and minds of the UK.

"An Angel, by all accounts.."

I mean I’m a lust demon, she might as well be the Virgin Mary reincarnated. I’m not interested in crossing paths, no matter how many people tell me she’s little Mrs. Sunshine..

"Yup, I’ll take a tall glass of that."

If I told you, prowling around the streets of Edgetoun every night there was 250 lbs of pure American corn-fed beef stomping around, would you believe me? Well he frequents my bar and he says y’all. I might faint if he wasn’t already feeling something for somebody. But with an accent that thick I don’t know who he could’ve met yet, that lucky duck..

"A little too preppy for my tastes."

She looks like she could be nearly high school-aged, but she’s older than I am. I don’t know if she’s an other but that would certainly explain the youthfulness. I can’t believe she’s nearly 30 – honestly..

"A lot of people take the credit of having a smile that will light up an entire room, but damn he’s got one."

He’s probably old, older than mid 30s that’s for sure. My only grounds for proof are how wonderfully his handles the aging process – frankly. But I believe that he isn’t human. Don’t tell Blake! Or she’ll try to interview him or something weird like that.

"The voice I listen to when I need to know if it’s going to rain tomorrow. Can also have some fun listening to her callers."

I think Captain America has a Texas-sized crush on lil’ miss radio host. His accent is easier to pick out than an American in the UK and he calls more than any other single person I can think of off the top of my head. That being said she seems to answer quite a bit too. Perhaps they’re hooking up on the side.

"I work in a bar, I know enough to know to stay away from his business."

I’ve got nothing more worth saying.

"She’s built like a tank and looks like a soldier, big nope from me."

She’s also like 19 so Blake would call me gross.