Fantasy Bitter Winters [Currently OPEN!]

[calypso]

Bitter Winters​

When the First was born, he only knew loneliness. Isolation, fear, and the cold. The world was unkind, but men were much worse. They would laugh in the cold, light torches and pour mead. They would clasp each other warmly on the shoulder, and embrace the snow as a time for celebration. The First would watch from the woods, eager to lap up the warmth of the hearth, to scarf down the roasted duck and boiled beets. Unfortunately, he could only grow close to the others in the heat of the summer and spring. When the cold winds of fall and winter rolled in, he was forced into the furs of a beast.

A beast, that man hunted. Wolves.

The gnawing isolation in the bitter winters slowly overtook the First, consuming him from the toes up. It was in a particularly cold winter that the First snapped. He had set his golden gaze on a young child from the town, one that giggled and spun in the snow as if the frost didn't bother her in the slightest. It had been easy to lure the young girl forward towards the woods, towards the beautiful wolf that watched from the brush. There was something so human about that creature, that she had to just get a little closer.

The next morning, panic spread through the town. The young girl had been dragged away in the night, leaving only behind a pile of blood and her stuffed bear. Assumed dead, the town grieved together.

But not the First. When the little girl cried and spasmed as she shifted the first time, he was there to watch her. He was there to guide her through her new life, through the bitter winters that were surely to come. That night, he had learned something.

All it took was one bite, and he had all the friends he needed.
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Please refer to the lore tab for rules and information on the RP. Any questions should be directed to the OOC chat, or PM'd to me! ​

 

[calypso]

Ariella Roth

There’s just something about the holiday season that Ariella loathed.

It was always around November, when the town began to stink of turkey blood and cheap canned cranberry sauce. Eggnog was crammed into every nook and cranny of the grocery store, and pumpkins were punted out of sight to make room for the ever looming presence of Christmas. A holiday, that Ariella hasn’t enjoyed since she was around five. In fact, she couldn’t even recall enjoying Christmas, given that everything was hazy at that age. When she closed her eyes, she could picture faint green and red lights, and smell the faint scent of the cheap spruce tree her family bought each year. The presents were long lost in her memories, but she could distinctly remember a stuffed duck. Fluffy and yellow, it had been her favorite toy.

Until her dog decided it was a great chew toy and ripped it to shreds. Ironic, huh?

Now nineteen, and nearly twenty, it had been years since Ariella had actually gotten to celebrate a proper Christmas. Thanksgiving happened on good years, but they were never grand. Turkeys were expensive, and she barely had enough money for the group anyway. Deep down, she was grateful they never got to celebrate the jolly holiday that everyone in the world loved. She could never afford to get gifts for everyone, and she surely could never get what they actually wanted. How do you give someone a cure for a curse that would overtake them all in the end? The simple answer is you don’t, and she was already painfully aware of that.

But that was an issue for the future, somewhere down the line. Right now, she needed to set up for her gig, or they weren’t getting dinner tonight.

Stepping into the dusty old bar, Ariella shouldered her guitar case and gave a hearty sigh. Like most days, she had chosen fashionable all black outfit. Earmuffs were fit snugly over her ears, despite the temperature only bordering around sixty degrees. She wasn’t taking any chances, especially when they were running so low on cash this year. Hence why she had taken a job at the ‘Tipzy Tavern.’

The Tipzy Tavern was a small bar located on the outskirts on the town, and it surely reflected that. With stools that barely held themselves up, and a less than pleasant crowd, Ariella only accepted gigs when the cash was scraping the bottom of the barrel, and then some. Booze filled the air, a volatile mix of whiskey and vomit. It was clear the staff didn't care much about cleaning up, or anything at all, considering they were letting a nineteen year old girl play a gig when she couldn't even order a drink there. Cheap neon lights flickered on the wall, surrounded by bent traffic signs and dented license plates. The booths were filled with rotting seats, and mothballs could be seen peaking out from under the cushions. The worst of it all was the crowd, however. With no drink cap, patrons were allowed to knock back as many shots and beers as they wanted. Words slurred together constantly, and fights were as common as flies in the old bar. Still, a paycheck was a paycheck, and Ariella was no wimp. Shoving past a more intoxicated guest, it wasn’t long before the young woman found herself at the sorry excuse of a stage. In actuality, it was a glorified piece of wood, with a cheap mic propped up in the middle. One of the rickety stools sat right behind it, tilted backwards due to the uneven cut of the stage itself. Luckily, Ariella knew just the correct way to sit on the flaking blue seat to avoid taking a tumble.

With a loud creak, followed by several others, Ariella was soon standing in the center of the stage, right next to the cheap setup. Her guitar case was placed down, and after a few seconds of fiddling with the finicky clasps, she was soon cradling her old acoustic guitar. Her set wasn’t too terribly long tonight, which was good for her at least. She was absolutely convinced staying in the Tipzy Tavern too long was bad for one’s health.

Sitting down on the stool to a silent crowd - save for the occasional cough, she strummed the strings a few times. After assuring herself the tune was right, the small guitar pick was plucked out from behind her ear. The coughing silenced in the crowd as she glanced about, before she began to play the opening cords for ‘Southern Cross.’ As she began to sing whilst strumming the guitar, she silently hoped it would be a calm night. Hungry was already gnawing at her stomach, and the last thing she wanted to do was get stuck on the wrong side of town with not enough money for even a honey-cake at the local gas station.

Then again, when was anything calm in this town?

 

[sygnuss]

Location:: Tipzy Tavern
Mentions:: calypso

"Disgusting habit," said the stranger, cigarette hitting the ground as soon as the last syllable escaped his mouth. It belonged to Oliver. (Do i respond?) He thought. No. He never was that confrontational.

His eyes met with the delinquent for a moment before glancing towards the snow capped trees across the street. His left glove reached into his pocket to clasp a coin with a raven on one side, and a lake on the other, and he began to twirl it between his fingers. It's often what he did when he was thinking, though what was going through his mind at any given moment was a mystery to anyone. The odd young man entered, and Oliver spent a few more moments playing with his favorite toy before kicking the dirt off his shoes, shoving the coin back into his palm and entering.

He took a moment to read the room. Ariella was playing. Typical crowd at the counter top and a few regulars sitting in the booths. Nothing unusual, Which is quite odd for Frostwood. Oliver approached an empty booth in the center of the room, and sat his bottom on the rough, bursting open, and taped back together, cushioned seat. He was close enough to hear Ariella playing while still remaining inconspicuous to others. Oliver wasn't terribly well known in the sleepy town, and yet seemed to draw unwanted attention to him at the worst possible time. He grabbed the very aged single-page menu, even though he knew damn well what he was going to order, partially to signal to whoever was around that he wanted something, and also keep his mitts busy, as he typically does when he's lost in thought.

(Burger. Two patties, American cheddar, Relish, Mustard, Bacon, a single Egg sunny side up, lettuce, and a tomato slice.)

He practiced his order as he did thousands of times before, as he pulled his phone out and opened a document he used to keep notes on Jacob's disappearance. All accounts, and a few pieces of evidence, have left those in the Guild and Oliver to believe that Jacob simply vanished with an unidentified Pack member. Although it makes sense, he's nay the type of person to simply give up. This gives him drive. Reason. He will find out what happened to his brother, and no half-baked theory with potentially fake testimony will rest his weary soul. The trail he's been following so far has been cold for years.

(I think it's time i finally start using my own head.)​

 

[graphic_biscuit]

Nerissa Bennett

Location: Cafe | Interacting with: N/A | Mentions:

Nerissa stood still upon her balcony, winter coat pulled tightly around her frame and her gaze wandering. The sky had darkened with the onslaught of condensed, gunmetal-grey clouds that threatened to pour down rain at any moment. Dreary was the only word that Nerissa could describe today as. But then again, she lived in Frostwood and the holidays were just around the corner. This little town never passed up on Christmas festivities. A small sigh escaped Nerissa's lips as she stepped back into her apartment, swiping her little green backpack from the foot of her bed, and made her way out of the building.

Her daily commute to her job was roughly ten minutes, leaving Nerissa enough time to grab a cup of joe. She strolled down the sidewalk like how her mother drove her old convertible on autopilot. She walked her route so often, becoming apart of the backdrop for others. She walked this path every day, her worn sneakers taking her to the little cafe on the corner of Pinesap Rd. In Frostwood, nothing ever really changes except for the weather. It's not until the first snow where Nerissa's routine does a complete 180. As the temperature dropped though, she felt dread pooling in the pit of her stomach, anticipation nagging her in the back of her mind.

She tried not to think about it, though.

Nerissa stopped before the cafe's storefront, taking one last glance at the sky. The scent of rain hung in the air as she watched the sky darken even more, whatever traces of blue fading to grey. The clouds thickened and the unmistakable roll of thunder growled threateningly, leaving the sky colorless and bleak. Rain splattered the dirty pavement. Nerissa went inside.

The half a dozen customers glanced up as the door swung open, a draft of chilly wind seeping into the tiny establishment. Unlike the outside, the cafe's interior was warm and welcoming, with bright lights and colorful walls. Nerissa ordered her coffee and sat in a nearby booth, the customers resuming their previous conversations and the cold draft forgotten. She lifted the warm plastic cup to her lips, releasing a satisfied sigh as the beverage warmed her insides. Nerissa stared out of the nearby window, her gaze shifting to the 'Tipsy Tavern' across the street, and then settling on the distant outline of tall pine trees that surrounded the small town. Her stomach churned. She knew that the Hunt would soon begin; she knew that those wolves only roamed those woods when the temperatures dropped.

What she didn't know, was how she was going to keep up her little 'act' with the Hunters.

code by Ri.a

 

[Svisttt]

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[div class=charactername]Akila Breeze[/div]
[div class=covercontainer][div class=coverpost]
Akila was alone.

Up in the attic of the Pack's creaky house, the young boy sat by the only window in the room, watching the last of the day's light fade as he hummed softly to himself. It was a familiar melody, one he knew he'd heard sometime before he joined the Pack, yet he'd never been able to place where. Regardless, he clung to the gentle lullaby, cherishing the warm and fuzzy feeling it gave him, reminiscent of a mother's embrace.

His mother's embrace.

The young one shivered, though not from the cold that November always brought. Aki... wanted to see his family, wanted to see the people behind the blurred faces he knew only from fogged memories. Yet, he knew the issues fulfilling his wish would raise. He couldn't stay with them forever- Akila knew he'd have to leave quickly, and in the end cause heartache for both himself and his dear ones. Plus, he couldn't see them without possibly causing problems for his... Aki supposed his adoptive family.

It isn't fair.

Sniffling a little, he shifted uncomfortably on the crate he was sitting on, blinking back unwanted tears. He knew how selfish it'd be to try finding them again, but...

They deserve to know I'm alive at least, don't they?

And...

Akila stood on shaky legs, mind racing as the two parts of him tore at each other. Letting out a cross between a whimper and a sigh, he closed the curtain to the dusty window he'd been gazing out of before hesitantly walking to the ladder that led back downstairs.

And... I deserve to say goodbye.

--~*~--

He wasn't sure how he managed slip out of the house without raising questions, but he did, and Akila knew he couldn't go back on his decision now. Well- he could, technically, but he didn't want to experience that nasty feeling of regret that came with 'what ifs.' Not again. Keeping at a slow, uncertain pace, the boy trudged through the woods, letting his feet carry him aimlessly as wide eyes studied the golden leaves that littered the forest floor.
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[Blxrt]

Mika Sato
Location: Main Street/Shop
Dialogue W/: N/A

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Mika walked down the busy main street, bundled in her layered clothes and warm coat, a beanie and earmuffs atop her head. Her breath blew out in front of her, and she shuddered - once upon a long time ago, she would've found her layered getup ridiculous and needlessly excessive, but after her first "change", she found there were much worse things than looking 'extra' or foolish. The change had been painful; excruciating. She still remembered it - the feeling of being split into a million pieces, her heart pumping at speeds that could challenge light, and her emotions overridden with a primal fear.

She was donning enough warm fabrics to keep her safe from a shift for a while, but she preferred not to be out for too long; besides, she didn't want to get lectured about acting 'recklessly' and not thinking through the possible threats. Shaking her disheveled hair out from in front of her eyes, she entered a small shop, her eyes crossing over immediately to the nearest employee. "Hi, I was wondering where your stationary is?" Mika inquired, her eyes bright. In the past few months, she'd learned that most people thought nothing of someone easily approachable, and stable in confidence. The more calm she appeared, the less suspicion she'd draw; at least, that had always been her strategy.

The employee, a kind-looking young man, directed her to the crafts aisle, wherein she found several different journals and papers. Writing utensils lined the middle shelf, with the papers and journals lining the top and bottom shelves, their intricate prints catching her eye almost immediately. Of course, she found her pocket was a few dollars short. No pretty papers for her, unfortunately. Reaching for the next best thing, a faux leather journal with a periwinkle cover, misfortune seemed to shine down on Mika. She somehow managed to knock a stack of journals off their shelf, scattering them onto the tile floor. A different employee, a strict grey-haired woman, looked over with an expression that showed she thought Mika to be a troublemaker, or simply a dolt. Mika bent down and retrieved the journals, setting them back on the shelf gingerly. She tried her best to rearrange them in the same order they were in before, made uneasy by the woman's watchful eye. She hated drawing attention to herself - questions were asked, and if she delayed her return to the house for much longer, the temperature would drop too much and she'd be stuck out in the cold.

The very thought sent a prickly feeling through her, and she hastened her pace to the register, the journal she had picked out tucked under her arm. "Just this?" the cashier, a bored-looking teenager with bad acne, questioned. Mika nodded, smiling politely. The teen rang up her purchase, the total coming up to five dollars and twenty-seven cents. Mika fished in her pocket for the money, sorting through bills and change. After a few moments, she handed the exact amount to the cashier, tucking the excess back into her coat pocket. As par typical procedure, the cashier counter her money lazily, then pulled the receipt off the machine. Mika took it, waved goodbye to the man who'd directed her to the stationary, and exited the shop.

Mika stepped out into the main street once more, looking around. She wondered momentarily what the rest of the pack was doing - she figured Ariella was most likely out on a gig, and who knew what everyone else was doing. Although she hated to admit it, she was often too spaced out to notice the routine of most of the pack members; she'd kept to herself a bit, still unable to accept the drastic lifestyle change. Adjusting her earmuffs, which had slid slightly off of her ears, she walked along, quickening her pace so as to make it back to the house before the cold could reach her.

 

[calypso]

Ariella Roth

Strumming out the final few notes of the song, Ariella gave a loud sigh. Her head turned to the side to avoid breathing heavily into the mic, but the sound of her boredom would still be picked up nonetheless. Her long fingers travelled along the old and worn strings of her guitar as her gaze wandered the crowd, soaking in the silence of the bar. The occasional belch sounded from the older men in the crowd, followed by snippets of conversations. Besides that, the Tipzy Tavern was having one of their slower nights, if that was even possible. It was always surprising to see more than ten people in the crowd, and Ariella counted at least eleven this time around! Not like any of them would tip her, anyway. Leaning into the mic once again, a moment of feedback occured before her voice rang out.

“Uh...I’ll be back in a few minutes to continue the set. If you have any requests, just come find me over at the bar,” she said into the mic as she eyed the crowd again, before leaning back and away to stand up. With the guitar now slung properly onto her back, Ariella winced at the creaky stage. She was constantly worried that it was going to give away under her whenever she was playing, so she was sure to step off the musty wooden boards with three quick steps.

Once she was properly on the firm floor of the bar, she began to weave through the crooked tables towards the actual bar part of the establishment. Sure, she wasn’t old enough to drink, but they didn’t care one bit. It didn’t take long before a cosmopolitan was slid over to her. There was no lime to garnish the drink, and it had way more vodka than any of the other ingredients, but she didn’t mind one bit. She wasn’t looking to get wasted, but she definitely wanted a buzz going before she had to play another song. She was already bored out of her mind, so alcohol would help take the edge off it all.

Not to mention it would distract her from...other matters. Like how she could see frost starting to creep up the corner of the dirty window to her left. She had gloves, a jacket, another jacket over that, and a hat, but was that enough? The house was already far away, but those two miles suddenly seemed a lot more daunting when she had to walk in the cold. No taxis ran through the town, and the community car at the house could barely turn on when it warm out. She could always ask a stranger in the bar to give her a ride home, but that was a risk in it of itself. Everyone was an old fart besides one dude in the crowd, but she was equally scared of young adult men as she was older men. She just couldn't win, could she?

Bottoms up.

 

[sygnuss]

Location:: Tipzy Tavern
Mentions:: calypso

And then again maybe I just like to overthink things.

The trill from Oliver's phone shook him awake to reality as he locked it. Awaking from the world he has inside his phone, he thrust it into his right pants pocket. The pants that clung tightly in a slim fit that put his unimpressive legs on display. His overactive personality couldn't sit still and wait for the waiter before noticing a rather young looking women was at the bar. Is this normal? he thought. I wouldn't know. And what stranger might I ask if it is? It's an odd question. The thoughts rattling in his brain like a bingo spinner chucking numbered balls around. Something about today had Oliver in an odd mood though, as before he knew it, he had already left his chair and approached the young girl. Had he picked a better time noone may have heard his coming, however, his subconcious ability to attract attention was rearing it's ugly head.

I sound like a nurse going down the longest empty hallway in reality.

It's all he could think as he took those last few strides. He felt as if all eyes were on him, and had this not been his existence, he may have felt too nervous too act. Not today.

He stopped and sat down two seats next to the strange girl, who was drinking what appeared to be a hilarious attempt at a cosmo. He repeated his order, the one he had been practicing, to the tender, and requested his drink. "... And i'll have a shot of Kraken if you have it." The tender nodded quietly, and put the filled request on hanging order spinner. He looks over to the girl and notices she doesn't seem quite comfortable in his presence, and tries his best to be as little intimidating as possible. He turns to her slowly and waits for her attention before reaching his hand slightly across the table, as if to signal that he is about to say something.

"Sorry to bother you, but, did you by any chance have a teacher named Mr. Davies?"
​