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    1. Write 9 yrs ago
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8 yrs ago
"I feel like I could eat the whole world raw."
8 yrs ago
When one of us goes to war. We all go to war.
2 likes
8 yrs ago
Here's a limmerick There once was a team out of Haven with an outlook as black as a raven they were meant to fight BANK but our hearts all but sank WHEN WE HEARD THAT THEY'D RUN HOME AND TURNED CRAVEN
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8 yrs ago
When you realize you gotta make an IC intro post and just '...'
6 likes
8 yrs ago
Big things are coming! Stay tuned ~
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Most Recent Posts

Ditto to that! Here's Ordnance for your approval or otherwise!



Hi there! @RedxCross and I would love to make Character sheets if you guys are still open!

We'll start ASAP - loving everyone else's character sheets so far!

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β™ͺβ™ͺ

In which a night shift cop from another country tries to flirt accept a casual night out with a drinking buddy. @McHaggis


Lang whistled as he took his earbuds out. Louise had signed off and they had started their flashback playlist with some Daryl Hall and John Oates. Nice to hear some American music for a change. He waved to the night secretary who was just ending her shift, Aila should’ve been getting in pretty soon to take over for the day. He went and signed off his shift, taking his vest off, changing, and releasing all of his equipment before finally heading over to his locker. He found his baggy pullover hoodie and threw it on. It exposed the nape of his neck and a bit lower than his collarbone, but he always wore comfy clothes after work. Besides, he was only just remembering what the sun looks like.

But that was when everything his changed. As he was about to close his locker, he heard his phone buzz from inside it. β€œAh shit, close call.” He murmured to himself grabbing the phone and quickly scanning the contact it was from. But it was an unknown number.

Huh.

He read the first line offered in the preview of the message. His brain was only able to process the words β€˜Louise and radio’ before he instinctively threw his phone at the wall. There was absolutely no reason. No sensible way to explain what he had done. He gingerly picked up the phone, looking at the screen and inspecting the damage. It had a sizeable crack in the bottom half, which made Lang inhale sharply upon seeing it.

β€œOh shit.” He muttered, looking behind him. The room was empty.

β€œOh fuck, oh fuck oh shit.”

It’s fake.

β€œOh obviously.” Lang started to laugh a nervous laugh, it sounded less like a healthy human and more like a cat choking up a hairball. He slid his phone into his pocket, but it felt like it weighed as much as a fridge.

It’s fake.

He continued to get ready, grabbing a few of his things. A few other night shift officers came in, quietly greeting Lang. He just stared at them. Right into their eyes. It could have been one of them.

β€œYou good buddy?” One asked, Lang squinted at him, focusing all of his cop super powers into this stare, β€œa-are you okay?” The man just seemed confused, shit.

β€œYeah.” Lang said, grabbing the rest of his things and storming off.

It’s fake.

β€œHey Laurel, before you head out – mind if you run a number for me?” Lang asked the secretary, looking somewhat like a junkie with the amount he was twitching.

β€œOh sure, Lang. What is it?” Laurel asked coolly.

β€œUh, yeah, it’s 2038073914,” Lang said, starting to sweat a little.

Laurel’s eyes scanned the screen as her fingers nimbly inputted the number. One eyebrow raised to almost hilarious proportions before her eyes slid over to Lang. β€œI swear to god if you’re stalking that poor girl Lang.”

It’s not fake.

β€œThank you!” He said taking off in a full sprint, small duffle bag in tow. He made it out the doors and continue to sprint, he made his way into the middle of the road and jumped as far as he could.

He felt like a kid again.

β€œLang, what the fuck?” Another officer shouted out at him.

β€œShut up!” He called back, sprinting around the corner and taking off towards his house. By the time he made it home he closed the door behind him and threw his sweater at his bed. Staring at the text message again.

β€œOh my god, she makes typos.” He said quietly. She asked if I was for drinks.

I am for drinks.

Lang quietly pondered what to do, staring at the propped up phone sitting on his pillow.

β€œI need help.”

He quickly opened up his text messages with the only person who could help. A girl he actually knew.




Play it cool. Only advice Aila could have given.

It made sense. She was a radio host, that was basically a short walk from being a phenomenon, a celebrity. She could’ve been expecting someone like Elvis, or other American heroes.

He had to dial it up.

Lang opened up the notes section of his phone so just in case she could see him typing, she wouldn’t watch him draft a good response for the next five minutes. The entirety of the time it took him to draft the thirty three word text he was beet red and felt like he was overheating. His ears especially burned with passion and embarrassment as he reread everything to make sure it didn’t sound like he had reread it 100 times.

β€œOkay.” He said, moving back to the messaging app.



It was done.

Immediately he buried his phone beneath his pillow placing his head on top of the pillow and tried to wait it out. Maybe time would go by quickly and he would have a response soon?

Maybe she was just as anxious?

His phone vibrated and his pillow was nearly torn asunder as his desperate claws reached the phone.

It was the Domino’s pizza app he kept forgetting to delete.

They had a deal for 7.99 two topping large pizzas.

Wow, that’s an amazing deal.
𝗔𝗑𝗗π—₯π—’π— π—˜π——π—”


Andromeda took a sip of her coffee, attempting to feel the caffeine press its way into her mind. She needed to be ready and alert – she was getting there.

β€œSo Mrs.-β€œ

β€œYou can just call me Kate.” The middle aged-woman interrupted. She had dark hair that fell straight down her back like frozen water, there seemed to be a large amount of product in it. β€œAre you sure you’re old enough to be offering therapy to my Brayden?” She asked with a privileged tone holding her son’s head in her hands in what looked to be a very uncomfortable position for him.

Andromeda took a second to look at the boy, he looked not frightened but anxious, like a caged animal but not one that was ready to resort to violence. His mother on the other hand looked like a twig supporting the weight of a fully grown mastiff.

Andi needed to diffuse.

β€œKate,” she started, her eyes slowly shifting from the son to his mother. β€œDo you think Brayden and I could speak alone for a few minutes?” She asked, her voice light as if she was speaking to a child.

β€œI don’t know if that’s a good idea, Doctor.” Kate immediately shot back as if she had spent the past decade of her life working as a therapist.

β€œI do,” Andromeda said, not breaking her eye contact from Kate. Kate looked at her for only a second before breaking eye contact and nodding. She said a few quiet words to her son before departing, leaving Brayden alone with his therapist. He fiddled with his hands a little bit, biting his cuticle, it seemed like he had cut it a little bit. His right hand had a band-aid on the knuckle, most definitely recent. He wore clothes that were definitely picked out by his mother. A button up shirt she'd expect of someone three times his age, his hair very neatly combed and gelled, khaki pants. No eight year old wore khaki pants as a choice.

After a few moments of silence, Andi moved out from behind her desk, expertly grabbing a lollipop from a small tray hidden behind her computer monitor before kneeling down so she met Brayden’s eye line. She handed him the sweet and met his eyes, he smiled a little bit and she mirrored his expression. β€œI’ll tell you what Brayden is that what you friends call you?”

β€œThey call me Bray.” He said, unskillfully unwrapping the candy and plopping it into his mouth, leaving his poor cuticles alone for the time being.

β€œDo you think I could call you Bray?” She asked with a curious intonation.

β€œYeah, we can be friends too.” Bray said looking at the window, Andi smiled.

β€œOkay, then you can call me Andi – that’s what my friends call me, okay?” She asked, he looked back at her with the smallest amazement.

β€œOkay.” He said, still making eye contact, nodding a little absentmindedly.

β€œSo Bray, I heard you got into trouble at school last week,” Andi said, carefully watching his eyes. As soon as she mentioned trouble, his eyes moved from her gaze to the corner of his vision, his head turning slightly. She let the silence hang in the air for a few seconds.

And then a minute.

Bray looked upset, but she just kept her gaze ever so gently on him, before finally he turned back to Andi.




Andi dusted off some of her things as Kate re-entered the room she found the therapist sitting back at her desk and her son, content with his lollipop. She glanced at him sitting down and petting his head like he was a beagle.

β€œOkay Bray, your mummy and I are just going to talk about some grown up stuff, why don’t you go play out in the lobby for a couple seconds?” Andi said with a giant grin on her face. Bray got up and ran out to the small brainteaser toys that were located in the lobby, still well within the small area restricted to the therapists’ patients.

β€œSo? What’s going on with my son?” Kate asked impatiently glancing at Andromeda as if she was her won disappointing daughter.

β€œNothing out of the ordinary. He was being picked on and he fought back, I’d talk to him about using his words and speak to the teacher about making sure another student isn’t picking on him but other than that you should be fine.” Andromeda took a second to look at Kate once more, taking another sip of her coffee. β€œHe definitely doesn’t need therapy, just a bit more support.”

A glare passed over Kate’s eyes, quickly but altogether still present. For a moment she must’ve considered lashing out. She was almost certainly giving him all the support in the world. But she decided against it and held her anger back. β€œWell Doctor, thanks for your opinion. We’ll be sure to get a second one before speaking to his teachers. She said, picking up her bag in an overly dramatic fashion and carting her son off to go someplace else.

Andi leaned back in her chair, her arms slouching to her side as she absent mindedly made a Bras d’honneur to alleviate some of the pent up anger.

He was a good kid though.

Shaking her mouse in order to wake up her computer, she wrote down a few notes about the session should Bray ever come back.

She leaned back in her chair and glanced at her calendar. Her day was empty and it was still the early morning. She sighed and leaned back even further until the chair creaked under the pressure. She snagged a lollipop and put it in her mouth with a slight grin. The air in Edgetoun was different than back home, not that she'd been home recently. But it felt uniquely full of opportunity. She never had any love for the politics of her people, nor their natures as self-serving brats. Instead, she liked people, even people like Kate. Sure, they were still ignorant and filled to the brim with false importance, there wasn't a doubt about that. But at the same time they were looking out for each other. Kate was a mother worried for her son, her son wanted to make friends. There was a purity about them.

β€œI’m bored.” The Fae groaned leaning even further back in her chair, before she felt her weight completely shift. She threw her arms out wildly but all the same she crashed into the ground, smacking the back of her head off the wall with a dull thud.

"Fuuuuuuck." Andi sighed rubbing her head.
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β™ͺβ™ͺ


As the sun lazily made its presence known over the horizon Lang Monyethebeng bid his shift, the night and his waning sobriety adieu. He walked into the grocer with a yawn on his lips. Friday nights he had off, so at least there was that. In his left ear was an earbud connected to his cell phone, but he wasn’t listening to music – at least not to most people. It was music to his ears though.

Well, it wasn’t yet. Right now it was Cara, but Louise hadn’t signed off – which meant she was probably covering for someone. She was a professional, she always signed off. This meant that he had time to listen to her still while he made his way home until bars opened up. Some Adele song started up and Lang used the momentary distraction to carry out his purchases. At first it was just the essentials, the biggest bottle of Advil he could find, some creamer for his coffee and a bottle of red wine. But upon approaching the counter he realized he had nothing to pair with his beautiful red, but he also only had enough for, like, a dozen bagels.

He grabbed the bagels and continued on his way to the register. In front of him was Eleanor English, easy enough for anyone to recognize. A lot of the other guys at the office made comments about how she looks, but Lang never really saw it. She had kind eyes, but he wasn’t the best judge of character either.

He was going to say something polite, but before he could get it out she was out the door. He tried not to think about it, instead working on producing the proper amount of money as the kid behind the register who got stuck with the crappy shift started ringing everything in. Lang patted his pockets as Adele sung of past loves, he found a few dollars in his shirt pocket and a few other dollars in back right pocket. He must’ve left his wallet in the cruiser. That was when he noticed a girl standing behind him.

β€œAh hey.” He started, turning to see who was behind him, putting the money on the shelf as the cashier started to bag everything. β€œYer one of them high schoolers right?” He drawled.

β€œOh, no my name is Aoife – we’ve met a few times actually I’m studying in pre me-β€œ The girl started, but Lang wasn’t ready to continue a conversation for that long. Adele was getting towards the end of her song, which meant she was almost back.

β€œAlright, don’t do drugs Eva.” He said, grabbing his bag behind his back and waving to the cashier to keep any change, with that he took his leave.

Back in the cruiser, he gently put his groceries on the passenger seat and started the vehicle, the Bluetooth FM player in the left cigarette lighter chimed to life as it connected to his phone just in time. "That was Adele's new hit break-up song. Thanks for the request, Sam, and hope you feel better soon! Louise’s signature β€˜radio voice’ as Lang often dubbed it when gushing to others was as spot on as always. But there was more to it than that, he always took a tiny bit of pride when he heard her β€˜radio voice’. Because just once, during a late night call he could have sworn she didn’t use it. That was what kept him coming back, those blinks of realness.

Next up is a little something you might recognise, if you're feeling very 90s––"

Very suddenly the signal shut off and some static came through, before a voice pierced that static and shut every other noise out completely.

Good morning, Britain.

Do you feel a shiver of fear when walking home alone at night? Do you jump at shadows whenever the full moon is out and shining bright? Doesn’t the existence of beings who cannot separate themselves from carnal desires and primal urges frighten you?


Lang listened intently as a madman droned a manifesto. It wasn’t entirely a call to civil war, but it wasn’t so dissimilar. Lang physically felt ill at the mention of witches. Almost as if to confirm what he was he silently shifted a quarter nervously being flicked between his fingers like a poker chip into copper, then into bronze and back. The display was a party trick he often showed off as β€˜magic’.

Would anyone know, just rom his past that he was?

He ignored it and soon, Louise was back.

"That–– that was an unauthorised broadcast, we truly apologise for the interruption and the show will soon return to our regular programming. But before we do, suffice it to say that On the Edge does not endorse any of the views represented in the previous manifesto, and––

Her voice was cathartic to him, almost so much so that he considered not polishing the bottle of red off once he was off. But he didn’t think much more about it with the words that followed.

"And though I am but the humble host of everyone's favourite radio show, I personally condemn the call to violence against the Other from these anonymous pirates." The confidence in her voice was… Well it was certainly there, but it felt pushed. He wasn’t sure if he was reading into things too much, but he felt like it was there.

"At least we'll have something for the listeners to call-in about later. For now, though, let's return to the Top 40..."

With that music would return to the airwaves, and Lang would head back to the station to call it a morning. The sun was now starting to rise over the sleepy town, he could only hope no one had been listening. But, he was and so was Louise.

He made a mental note to call in should her shift last any longer, just to check in.


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Eleanor washed her hands in the kitchen sink, splashing some of the water on her face. The cold water from the tap felt warm to her skin with its unnatural coolness. The woman sighed, placing one hand on the rim of the pristine sink and the other on her forehead, rubbing it slightly.

β€œI swear to god these kids…” She mumbled under her breath rather quietly. She felt as though, even though she knew Caspian was out and Callie was in bed hungover, she shouldn’t have said it. In truth, her children were the best thing that had happened to her in nearly 900 years on this planet. Yet, there was no time where she was more stressed, or constantly worried about anything.

She took a look at the clock on her stove and grumbled before fetching her keys from a small ring that normally held them. As Eleanor approached her small vehicle it started up on its own, sensing her keys approaching it. She got in and started off towards town. The drive was always nice enough, if not overly mundane. She had lived just about everywhere – so Edgetoun and its residual outskirts were somewhat drab to her. But she didn’t want to move the kids.

β€œGod, do I have any agency at all left?”

No.

Eleanor’s car silently grinded to a stop outside of a small grocer. She was pretty early, the sun was only still just coming up. She popped in and immediately headed to the cashier, who had her bag prepared for her already as was usual of Friday mornings.

β€œThanks.” She said, gliding her wallet over a debit machine as a beep registered the exchange. She could smell the alcohol of an officer who should be in control of his drinking habits behind him, but didn’t worry too much about it and glided back to the entrance. As the sliding doors opened a smallish girl bumped into her.

She immediately recognized her as Aoife Reilley, she shared two classes with Caspian and one with Calypso.

…

Okay, she probably shouldn’t have that much knowledge of her children’s goings on. But sue her, she’s a vampire mother.

β€œOh, Ms. English, I’m very sorry please-β€œ Aoife began, in a tone that begged condescension.

β€œIts fine, Aoife was it?” The older woman knew the girl’s name. It was just… She didn’t want to give off an air of familiarity. Perhaps that was mean, but muscle memory often is.

β€œYes Ma’am…” Aoife sputtered like a beat up car. She tried to form words, the demure nature of the girl caused Eleanor to examine her more closely. Why does she find me so intimidating? I think I look nice. β€œI’ll get out of your way now.” She said, clearing her throat.

β€œPlease.” The mother said to the stray leaf in the wind. Aoife nearly shook when Eleanor brushed past her. She immediately went back to her car and started the ten minute drive back to the manor.

She flicked the radio on just in time to hear Louise get cut off by another broadcast. It droned on about aberrations, fear, duty.

The full moon is on Sunday. We’re doing our civic duty. Are you?

She glanced at her radio with a smile one would give to a child who didn’t understand a simple concept. She took a long, deep breath before her fist went through the car radio.

When she pulled up to the mansion she bled a fair amount, removing her scarf she wrapped it around her hand and got out, slamming the door behind her. She rested on the hood of the car for a second and willed any anxiety away.

β€œThey won’t come for them. No one knows they exist.”

With a few words Eleanor was fine. Everything was fine.

She took the bag which contained a few mice, some cheeses and some medication and walked out behind the manor. She found her trap she had laid and saw that it had worked as usual. A large fox this time, was caught in the cage, yipping at her. She removed it and with one, calculated and cold movement, snapped its neck.

Replacing the now gone mice in the cage she walked back to her house. She was ready to make her daughter a fox-blood drink to wane her hangover.

It was a harder world than ever for them to live in and Sunday would be a proving grounds for their sustainability as a family.

She was desperate to make it work.

She had to.

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