Another Trip [Open]

Thirty-Seven

Sous Chef at Bella Italia

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Sephy

164 posts

Another Trip [Open] Apr 28, 2015 14:36:14 GMT

Post by Peter Hale on Apr 28, 2015 14:36:14 GMT

It was dark and if it wasn’t for the various lit candles or light posts, normal visitors wouldn’t be able to see a thing in the darkness of the cemetery. Peter always found it interesting when he would visit at night, coming to speak to his sister, Laura, and the rest of the Hale family. He would even occasionally look at his own grave. To be honest, he was surprised his nephew had been kind enough to even let him have a headstone. After all, he had been buried on Hale property, under the house, which Peter was thankful for. How else would he have found a way to resurrect himself and return to the land of the living? How in the world it actually worked, he wasn’t sure, but man was he glad that it did. After all, most didn’t appreciate his return to the living word, but he had been helpful in more ways than one.

Grant it, Peter did his best to stay on everyone’s good side after his return from the dead, but still people tended to not trust him. He couldn’t blame them of course, and often told his older sister Talia that. He stood there, at her grave, and often spoke to her when he felt that he was alone, but tonight, something was off. There was something that unsettled him and it made him worry about speaking out loud. Not because people would think he was crazy, but because whatever conversation he wanted to have with his sister was supposed t be between the two of them, which was why he often appeared at night, especially since someone ran in to him the last time he was there during the day. He didn’t need that to happen again. In fact, he worried for when it happened again. The man did not like his privacy shattered.

So, as he stood there, silently speaking to his sister, he kept his wits about him, listening and smelling the air to see if he could figure out what didn't sit quite right with him.

Tag; Open
Words; 347
Notes; Come one, come all!

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Another Trip [Open] May 24, 2015 21:32:22 GMT Peter Hale likes this

Post by Deleted on May 24, 2015 21:32:22 GMT

Being the new Omega in town was stressful enough. Add to that being thrown into new surroundings all alone, a new school and not one familiar face and anyone would need a break. Even constantly concealing her smell grew tiring after a while, as small a matter as it initially was. She just wasn’t as strong as she used to be.
So, after she had finished all the necessary arrangements, the first thing Lyn had done was to take off on her own, simply running to get it all off her mind.
She wasn’t exactly sure how long she had been running when she turned up at the cemetery, but the sky was already darkening, and it was as good a time for a break as any.

There was literally nothing tying her to the Beacon Hills cemetery, still, it felt like she was just that bit closer to those she had lost. These places tended to have that effect on her, so she gave in and decided to stay for a while. She didn’t need to talk, or to look at a grave, even if there had been one for her family. Instead, it would be good to just be alone with her thoughts and this feeling for a while.
She walked quietly between the graves, sparing a look at the names here and there. The name Hale stuck with her after a while – there were many of them buried here, apparently. She briefly wondered what had happened, but brushed the thought aside soon enough. She probably wouldn’t want to know. With her luck, it wasn’t the kind of story you really wanted to hear.

After a little while, she found what she had, without realizing it, been looking for: An old oak at the edge of the cemetery caught her attention, and with a little smile, she slipped out of her shoes, leaving them under the tree as she climbed up to find a quiet place between the branches, just that bit closer to the sky. She had always had that odd liking to secluded, high up places.
Climbing up as high as she would manage without risking a fall, she leaned her back against the strong tree, propping her bare feet up on the branch she was sitting on and losing herself in the fractures of night sky she could see between the softly moving leaves.

There was no telling how long she had just sat there, thinking, remembering, maybe dozing off a time or two. Maybe she would just stay the night. It wasn’t quite as comfortable as a real bed, but out here, she felt far more at home than she probably ever would in her apartment.
Something eventually caught her attention, a light smell, the faint noise of footsteps on the path a little back. Someone coming to visit the cemetery at night? Not all that likely. A short glance at the sky told her most people should already be comfortable at home. And anyway, the average person tended to avoid places like this after dark.
Her entire being was alert, focused on the presence behind her while she sat totally still, trying to give as little signal of her presence as possible. Her smell was still somewhat concealed, but another wolf, it would eventually give her away. The only thing to do now was to wait and see. If she was found so be it, she had no doubt she could handle herself although she would much rather avoid that for now. She just wanted to be left alone…
A deep breath told her the only thing she needed to know for now: This was definitely one of her kind.
Well… that at least meant she wouldn’t have to face a hunter, as much as she still wanted revenge, certainly not her favorite pastime, or explain herself to an overly curious human.
What good reason was there for a teenage girl with no family here to spend her time on the cemetery at night? That explanation certainly would have been fun… not. Well, there was always hoping: Maybe he would just leave her alone?

Lyn raised a single brow at that thought. Really, she commented her own thoughts wryly, after everything else, you're counting on hope? She let out a soundless sigh. Not just that what she was hoping for was, all things considered, less than likely, but she really should know better than to count on something as useless as hope and luck. Chance, that you could reckon with. And chances were she had already been noticed, whether she liked it or not.

Tag: Peter
Words: 778
Notes: Hope this is okay and I gave you enough to work with here <.<

Peter Hale
Omega

Thirty-Seven

Sous Chef at Bella Italia

Single

Sephy

164 posts

Another Trip [Open] May 25, 2015 2:42:44 GMT

Post by Peter Hale on May 25, 2015 2:42:44 GMT

What on earth was going on, Peter Hale couldn’t tell you, nor himself. There was something wrong, something not right. He didn’t know what it was. It was a feeling in his gut. A feeling that told him that what he wanted to do would be ruined by someone doing something. Who doing what? He had no idea. It was the one flaw with being a werewolf and not being psychic. He had no idea what the future held for him and as such, he was worried, very worried. The last time this happened, things didn’t end well for him. He ran into a woman that he found to be…well…rather…interesting. He wasn’t the woman’s biggest fan, but she wasn’t the worst person he had ever run in to. She was slightly odd and a little overbearing but she wasn’t all bad. Now, that didn’t mean he wanted to spend hours with her redecorating his apartment. Oh no, it just meant that she was nice enough for him to not hate, which was something rather important for the…er…self-proclaimed Alpha werewolf of Beacon Hills. Of course, he wasn’t the Alpha. Hell, he wasn’t even one of the Alphas. Oh yes, Peter knew there was more than one Alpha. Scott, Carina, and this…Hykeem fellow that Ayame had told him about. So many Alphas in one spot made him uncomfortable…very uncomfortable.

The discomfort didn’t falter. It didn’t move and it didn’t waiver. It made Peter upset, very upset. His ears strained to hear someone, anyone, or anything. He didn’t care as long as he figured out why he was so…uptight given his current location. The man didn’t believe in ghosts, although he knew he should considering…well…he was a werewolf. Still, he didn’t believe and as such, he wanted to understand who or what was in this damned cemetery. Short of going on an adventure though, he wasn’t going to find out and he wasn’t about to leave while he was supposed to be visiting his older sister. He swore he could smell someone. He didn’t know what they were but he could smell them. Female, if his sensory organs were correct. His eyes narrowed a bit. It wasn’t Carina. It wasn’t Melissa, Lydia, Ayame, or any other female that he knew in Beacon Hills. The smell was not familiar and he worried about who or what it was. The man felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he listened for breathing. He tried to see if he could hear them breathing, or hear their heartbeat and pick up on where they were. So far, there was no such luck, but he hoped with enough concentration, he’d be able to figure it out.

Werewolf. The word echoed in his mind as the smell became a little more familiar, but only slightly. It only told him what species she was, making his eyes narrow. He needed to keep quiet. He didn’t need to engage. Instead, he focused on his sister, but remained on alert. What it was with him and finding people in the cemetery, he didn’t understand. Who had he pissed off in a past life to deserve this? He wasn’t sure, probably his sister or Laura. Either way, this man was stuck standing at his sister’s grave, speaking to her, while listening to this young werewolf in the tree not far from where he was. For now, though, he would keep his mouth shut until she made her presence known. For now, she was quiet, in the tree, and not bothering him, so he wouldn’t bother her. It was a courtesy that he would decide to agree to until she decided to screw it up by making a noise or approaching him. He hoped that the latter wasn’t what happened. After all, Peter Hale is not a werewolf you would want to stumble upon in the dark.

Tag; @lenara
Words; 648
Notes; Your post was great, love! Tried to match your word count, but didn't quite make it. XD

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Another Trip [Open] May 25, 2015 10:25:25 GMT Peter Hale likes this

Post by Deleted on May 25, 2015 10:25:25 GMT

Sitting still for too long was something that didn’t sit too well with Caelyn, even though she tried to ignore the growing discomfort. Her left leg was just short of becoming numb, she had to move or bear with the consequences later.
She shifted a bit, flexing and relaxing the disobliging limb, slowly resolving the matter, at least to a point. The minute control of her body functions she executed since noticing she wasn’t alone was already drawing on her strength and focus, and she had to give in a bit, whether she wanted to or not. It wasn’t something she was comfortable doing in her current situation, but with everything cutting in on her strength, she had to make some compromises, no matter what she thought about it. She wasn’t asked, after all, her opinion really didn’t matter. She would just have to work around it.
The minute she weakened her iron control, her low, steady breath and heartbeat grew a bit louder, more frequent and irregular and her smell in the air more pronounced. If she would have any choice about it, she would never have let go this far around someone she couldn’t assess yet, but she didn’t. She would just have to deal with things as any other person for once, without any choice for how much she gave away, or at least less so than usual. Seven hells, how she wanted to be strong again.

She could almost feel the ever so slight shift in his posture. Of course… now he had caught on to her. Great. That slight change in the rhythm of his heart and breath, the slightest difference in smell. Alert, but not yet curious enough to come looking for her, which was just as well as far as she was concerned. Maybe if she just kept quiet they could leave it at that…
Carefully, to avoid any noise other than the faint rustle of fabric, she turned to get a better look at the man. He seemed to be a bit taller than her, but no more than a foot if the light didn’t fool her, and rather lightly built, but she knew all too well that that could be more than just deceiving, especially in a werewolf. Part of her wondered whether or not she could take him on if necessary, and that overly confident voice in her head assured her she could, but a little nagging doubt remained. She wasn’t as strong as she used to be, and how much technique and reflexes alone would help her against another werewolf, she had yet to test out, something that she wasn’t all to eager to do without real necessity.
While she was still looking at him, her hand slipped slightly, breaking a few twigs in its way, every crack painfully loud to her sensible ears in the silence of the cemetery. It made her flinch, which was probably only her first mistake for the evening as at the same time, she had let go of the tree in alarm so at least she wouldn’t make any more noise that way. The short moment was enough to cost her her balance on the small branch she was sitting on, and only her sharp reflexes kept her from falling all the way at once. Gripping another branch, her claws instinctively digging as far into the bark as possible and eventually clawing through it, she managed to land on a lower branch for a fleeting moment, using her momentum to jump further down to the safety of the ground, landing on her feet as usual. In that particular aspect, she might just as well have been part cat instead of wolf.

Lyn cursed under her breath. What the hell, losing her balance like a little child? What was it with her? That hadn’t happened in more than five years. Had she become that weak? Nah, it couldn’t be. It had just been an accident, unfortunate circumstances, something like that. She stood up to her full height of no more than 5’3”, certainly not threatening with her slight stature, but still, she looked every inch as confident as when she had still been at full capacity. She would stand her ground, no matter what happened. She slowly turned, both to face the man and to know the oak at her back. For some reason that gave her more confident, as if, somehow, Laura or Philippe were here to have her back. It really was more of a symbolic thing as the tree wouldn’t help her one bit. Still, she didn’t say anything, waiting if and in what way he would react.
Now, she recognized the grave he stood in front of as one of the ones she had noticed earlier. Hale… the name echoed in her mind, as if she should recognize it. Maybe she had heard it somewhere before? It felt like she should know more, but it kept eluding her.

Tag; Peter Hale
Words; 845
Notes; Lol, I think she's about to kill me xD No worries about the length, my posts tend to get a bit out of hand every now and then^^

Last Edit: May 25, 2015 10:49:56 GMT by Deleted

Peter Hale
Omega

Thirty-Seven

Sous Chef at Bella Italia

Single

Sephy

164 posts

Another Trip [Open] May 26, 2015 14:05:18 GMT

Post by Peter Hale on May 26, 2015 14:05:18 GMT

Peter did well. He made sure to keep himself silent and quiet. He made sure to focus on his sister and other Hale relatives as he looked at everything that was going on around him. He sighed gently and knelt down, resting his hand on his sister’s headstone as he looked down at the flowers he usually left. He was glad to see it was only his flowers on her grave, but also a little upset. His nephew should have visited his mother more often, but alas, he didn’t want to. Peter understood. He felt as though it was sort of his fault since, well, he and Kate had been an item at some point. It was pure betrayal that Derek no doubt felt when he was there. Grant it, Laura was also buried here, and Peter often hesitated before visiting her grave. He would leave her flowers as well, beg for her forgiveness, and often tell her if he could bring her back by giving his life, he would. His mistakes, of course, would never be truly forgiven, but he was trying to do better, and if he had to, he would give his life to save the people he considered somewhat dear to him. Emotion still wasn’t his strong suit, but he tried his best, he really did and he hoped and prayed that in the afterlife, his sister would tell him that he made mistakes and he tried to make up for them and that was what mattered. You know, before he was cast down to hell where he belonged.

The silence in the cemetery didn’t last long though as Peter heard a crashing sound behind him. He cringed a little, closing one eye at the thought of the girl who had been up in the tree falling out and ruining his peaceful moment with his sister and niece. It irritated him and made him wonder if he should turn around and rip her throat up, but instead, he sat there, remembering that he was trying to be better and that it would be nice to either not say anything at all, or check on her. For the moment, he opted to say nothing. He had heard the girl try to not make noise and that was, of course, a nice gesture but not completely what needed to be done. Still, he just wished she had fallen out of the tree with all of the grace her gift had given her. But, then again, not everyone was blessed the same way when it came to being a werewolf. Perhaps there were other things on her mind and it was why when she fell down, she panicked and grasped the tree, digging her claws into the branch. Still, he shook his head. It was almost pitiful the way he could hear her heart beat increasing and whatnot. He would not take another student under his wing, at least not until Ayame could defend herself form the supernatural, including himself. For the moment, he would ask her if she was okay and then move on with his life. Yes. That sounded like an excellent plan. Now if only he could get himself to actually go through with it…

Peter felt the girl stand up and stare at him. She stood between him and the tree, he could feel it. He took a deep breath before he stood up, dusting off his knees and kissing his fingertips before pressing them against the headstone. He turned and looked at the girl, his face rather emotionless. “You’d think you’d be a little more…careful,” he told her as he gazed at her. She was young, that much was obvious. She must have had no idea what in the world she was doing. Even born werewolves were better at hiding their scent, their species, and their heartrate from other werewolves. Or at least Laura and Derek could do that at her age…or what he assumed her age was. Still, he figured he should at least ask her if she was okay instead of belittling her. He was trying to be better after all. “Are you at least all right?” He asked her, trying his best to be friendly and to be sincere. He did want to make sure she was alright, even if her pride was ruined. She could live with that. Of course, if she was a werewolf as she truly smelled, her wounds would heal and she would be fine. He paused as he looked at her. She wasn’t the slightest bit familiar. Who on earth was this girl and why was she in a cemetery in Beacon Hills? It was a small place, one that made Peter feel as though he knew everyone in town, human and otherwise that had lived there a long time. She didn’t seem related to anyone. Who was she? Not knowing unnerved him and he would be sure to figure it out.

Tag; @lenara
Words; 828
Notes; Sorry it took a little bit. Peter needed some coaxing and I needed some sleep after work XD

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Another Trip [Open] May 26, 2015 14:51:45 GMT

Post by Deleted on May 26, 2015 14:51:45 GMT

After taking a moment to assess the situation she had literally fallen into, Lyn went on assessing the damage. A few scratches and one or two tears in her clothes seemed to be it for the most part, although something felt off in her left hand. Considering her current luck, she had probably pulled a claw or something. Well, nothing that wouldn’t heal in a day or two anyway. It wasn’t that important and she turned back to the other werewolf, just in time to see him bid his farewell to whoever he had visited and turn towards her.
She returned the look with equal lack of emotion. If anything, there was a calm curiosity as she raised a brow at his statement. “Apparently not.” Still, she got the hint. She was starting to show too much, as she was starting to notice herself. With only the lightest frown, she returned to a tighter control of her body functions, just hoping she would be able to keep it up. the day had been exhausting to her and even a little thing like this was drawing on her by now.

“Oh, yes, I’m great. Falling out of trees is my favorite hobby.” She wasn’t even trying to hide the sarcasm, one corner of her mouth pulled up into a crude smile. Then she shrugged again. “I’ll be fine.” He was trying to be nice, she could feel it, the least she could do was to return the favor and at least be courteous. And there was one other thing she could, no, would do. That at least she owed him.
“I’m truly sorry for disturbing your visit. I’m sure you would have preferred to be left alone.” She could very well relate to that, hadn’t she felt the exact way coming here, although it hadn’t been planned on her account.
Being confronted with an unfamiliar werewolf had her alert, her senses heightened to the point of it being painful. And even in the darkness of the cemetery, the look he gave her was unmistakable. “And to answer your question, yes, I’m new.”
New and alone, but that he didn’t need to know. A slight smile played on her lips as she realized that her short and to the point statement would probably only raise more questions. Who was she? Where did she come from? Was she alone or with a pack? And what the hell was she doing in the cemetery? Well, anticipating one question was all she would give him, if he wanted to know more he would just have to ask. Maybe he would even get an answer.

Tag; Peter Hale
Words; 450
Notes; Sorry, a bit shorter this time^^ And I completely understand, they do that sometimes^^ Besides, sleep is important.

Last Edit: May 26, 2015 14:57:54 GMT by Deleted

Peter Hale
Omega

Thirty-Seven

Sous Chef at Bella Italia

Single

Sephy

164 posts

Another Trip [Open] May 27, 2015 1:32:28 GMT

Post by Peter Hale on May 27, 2015 1:32:28 GMT

Peter tilted his head to the side, watching the young girl as she looked herself over. He waited for her response before she stated that she had apparently not thought about being a little more careful. He eyed her a little, listening and sensing otherwise how she got herself under control. He was pleased with this decision. It showed that she was not as useless and pathetic as he originally would have deemed her to be. She had control over her abilities, which was good. It was irritating when their kind did not, especially when they were teenagers and should have done that. It was nice to know that she was at least more experienced as some of the other betas, omegas, or even Alphas that he had encountered. Then again, Peter hoped, at least currently, that he didn’t deal with any more Alphas. A pack of them and a Nogitsune was enough for now. He needed to rest and relax before anything crazy happened again.

The girl had sass, Peter had admit and he could dig it. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but he kept his suppressed as she shrugged and said that she would be fine. He nodded his head in response to her statement before his eyes returned to Talia’s grave. It was but a moment later that the girl spoke, saying that she was sorry for disturbing his visit and that she was sure he would have preferred to be left alone. He smiled a little wryly. ”Well, you’re not wrong, girl, but apparently it’s become habit for me to run in to our kind when I’m visiting,” he stated, shaking his head a little. ”Still, I appreciate your apology. That is not something I get often anymore,” he replied before he turned and looked at her. She then told him that she was new, making him grin. ”I figured as much. Not many are curious to see a Hale around town anymore,” he reasoned to her as he looked down at the headstone before he looked over at her, pausing a moment.

Gently, Peter reached up to scratch the back of his neck before he gazed at her. “Peter,” he introduced without saying that that was his name. He had a feeling she could figure it out so it didn’t matter if he stated that it was his name or not. He had a feeling she was rather intelligent, so he would give her the benefit of the doubt. She didn’t smell like any other werewolves. She smelled…well…alone. He assumed she was an omega, a lonely omega that he wouldn’t take down for any reason. After all, why would he?

Tag; @lenara
Words; 453
Notes; Haha, nothing wrong with a post being a little shorter!

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Another Trip [Open] May 27, 2015 18:53:00 GMT

Post by Deleted on May 27, 2015 18:53:00 GMT

Lyn could feel that he was pleased when she got herself under control and couldn't help the small smile slightly softening her features. Well, that made two of them. It wasn’t like she liked being that obvious, that uncontrolled, especially since she still, after two years, wasn't used to having these kinds of problems. To her, it was more than just frustrating and she certainly hoped she could fix it sooner rather than later. When he spoke, she smirked.
"I know I'm not." Why else would someone come to visit a grave at a time like this?
Certainly, her own reasons for staying after dark had been quite similar to his.
When he stated that it had become a habit for him to run into their kind here, she raised a brow. The reasons for it she couldn't even guess. Still, it suggested that there were more of them around than she had assumed coming here. Whether that was a good thing or not would remain to be seen, but she had a feeling it would be the latter. Too many werewolves in one place, ut just smelled of trouble.
"I didn't know the cemetery would turn out to be a favorite rendezvous point for this town or I would have looked for a quieter place." Though mostly talking to herself, the words were spoken loud enough to be easily understood by a werewolf.

His next statement had her frowning though, and for the first time in the conversation other than her apology it seemed like she actually cared about the topic. "All the more's the pity, for it was certainly justified."
While saying that though, her mind worked tirelessly, immediately processing this new tidbit of information. Basically there were two possibilities: Either people around here were just that thoughtless and inconsiderate, or this man wasn't much appreciated or even deemed worthy of an Apology, a thought she didn't much like. So far, considering the circumstances, he seemed nice enough.
She knew from experience that her kind, while social and caring within their own pack, tended to be gruff, to the point and wary with strangers. It was basic instinct, and not something she would blame anyone for.
At his comment to her being new, Caelyn merely shrugged. "Who said that that was what I was curious about?" And truly, it hadn't been his family name - although she was still certain that she had heard it before somewhere - but the simple fact that she was curious about him as a person. He was, after all, the first werewolf she met in Beacon Hills, although she had of course been aware of their presence.
So when he introduced himself, she offered a hesitant smile. "Caelyn." Her introduction was as short as his, as she was still hesitant to give out information on herself, or rather too much of that. A name wouldn't hurt her, though.

It was only when she glanced at the grave once more that something clicked, triggering half forgotten memories. She could almost hear her mother's voice, telling the child she had been at the time stories about that great Alpha Talia Hale. She had still been a child at the time, carefree and innocent, a time almodt buried beneath pain, grief and hatred.

From one moment to another she was completely sober, bowing her head in silent tribute to the woman she had only ever heard stories about, and although she didn't show any hint of it other than closing her eyes for a second, she was fighting tears at the memories this simple name had called into her mind.
Then, pushing the emotions to the back of her mind, she tilted her head thoughtfully at the man in front of her. "She was your sister, wasn't she?" Although phrased as a question, there was no doubt in her mind at the matter as she continued. "I'm sorry for your loss." With a look around at some of the other graves she had noticed earlier, she added. "All of them."
There was a deep sincerity ringing in her voice, making it painfully obvious that she knew more about that particular emotion than anyone her age should.

Tag; Peter Hale
Words; 700
Notes; Sent from phone, please forgive typos.

Peter Hale
Omega

Thirty-Seven

Sous Chef at Bella Italia

Single

Sephy

164 posts

Another Trip [Open] May 28, 2015 19:31:24 GMT

Post by Peter Hale on May 28, 2015 19:31:24 GMT

The young girl stated that she knew she wasn’t wrong, which made him shake his head a little. He couldn’t help it. He knew that she was sassy, she was sarcastic, and to be honest, he liked that trait in a person. He had that trait himself, and even liked Stiles’ sarcasm from time to time, but not all the time. Then again, Stiles didn’t really make his comments at the best times. He tended to do it in levels of high stress or anywhere where there was the potential for death which often made everyone stress out or just irritated because his timing was just absolutely ridiculous. He really needed to figure out his timing. Ayame did pretty good at sassing him when she knew it was necessary. Stiles still needed to figure that out, but since he had decided to break their friendship because he’s an idiot who was scared and worried that the people around him would be put in danger because of him. He was still guilt ridden from what happened with Aiden and Allison, which he understood. Peter walked around with his guilt as well, but he didn’t have anyone to talk it out with and Stiles did, he just didn’t want to because he would much rather wallow in his guilt.

It wasn’t long before the girl stated that she didn’t know that the cemetery was such a favorite place for people in Beacon Hills or she would have looked for a quieter place. Peter chuckled at her words. She should have, to be honest, but he kept that to himself as she said that her apology to him was justified. He shrugged his shoulders and said nothing else on the matter before he ran his hands through his hair. She got defensive, asking who had said that she was curious about his family name. He grinned, but didn’t reply as he introduced himself, trying his best to be nice and to try and make her feel a little more welcome. After all, not everyone did that to people, especially those in Beacon Hills. They could often be closed minded, as he usually was but hey, he was trying to be better. Something that Ayame told him he was pretty good at making people feel welcome, so long as they, you know, didn’t know anything about his history because once that set it it was almost a done deal. Although Ayame could tell he was sorry and that he would take everything back if he could, which is one reason why he appreciated her.

A moment’s hesitation later, the girl introduced herself as Caelyn. He nodded his head before he noticed her looking at his sister’s grave. He paused a little bit, blinking a few times before the girl asked if Talia had been his sister. He nodded his head, not trusting himself to vocalize anything when it came to deal with his sister’s death. After all, it was why he had gone to such drastic measures if the first place when it came to seeking revenge, but he digressed. The girl then said that she was sorry for his loss…for the loss of not only Talia but all of them. Peter nodded his head and felt the pain coming off of her. It wasn’t obvious, it wasn’t in waves that made it so anyone could tell she had lost people as well, but it was enough for Peter to sense it. He sighed a little. “And I’m sorry for yours,” he told her, not sure if she had actually lost someone or not, but from what he felt and how she sounded, that was the truth and that was something he would never wish upon anyone. He never would have wanted Derek to go through what happened, or Laura. He would never want anyone to go through the pain that he went through, not anyone…except for Kate Argent, but that would involve killing her whole family, which he wouldn’t have minded doing at the time.

Tag; @lenara
Words; 672
Notes; N/A

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Another Trip [Open] May 28, 2015 22:02:28 GMT

Post by Deleted on May 28, 2015 22:02:28 GMT

Caelyn smiled as Peter shook his head. There were always people who couldn’t appreciate a bit of sass or got upset about a bit of sarcasm or her sometimes rather peculiar humor, but she felt that wasn’t the case with him, and that simple fact alone made her feel more comfortable already. To say the loss of her entire family had changed her would have been an understatement, but this detail was probably the most commonly noticed, and she knew there were many who for some reason or another didn’t appreciate her comments and often enough rather dark humor. It only emphasized her being different further, and many, especially teenagers couldn’t deal with that. It was nice to talk to someone who did for a change.

She sighed when he nodded at her question, and for a moment it seemed like she would lose control over her own emotions. Sister… the word would always hold painful memories for her. Little Ailis, only four years old, a bright and cheerful child who only ever made the people around her smile, yet she had been butchered like an animal. She stood there for what seemed like eternity to her, eyes squeezed shut to hold back the tears, hands clenched to fists, her claws digging into the flesh as a physical distraction from the pain in her heart. She was completely tense for that short moment, and didn’t even realize the slow movement of one foot as she drew a spiral on the path. One day, she would hold true to that promise. But not today.
Slowly, but steadily she relaxed and finally opened her eyes again, looking at Peter for one long moment. Normally, she didn’t, couldn’t appreciate pity. What good had feeling sorry for someone ever done them other than possibly making them more miserable for making someone else feel that way? But those words said by someone who actually had some idea how she felt, that was something completely different.
For a few moments, that look was all she managed, not yet quite trusting her voice, or body for that matter. Then she managed a weak smile. “Thank you.”
After they were out, she cursed herself for those words. If her body was already screaming just how hard that loss had hit her, her voice, tiny and cracking, was pointing a spotlight right at it. Before anyone would have more of a chance to attest her weakness, she straightened up and forced her thoughts and emotions under control again. She just wished she would have at least a place like this to visit.

All that took only moments, her body for once responding exactly as she wanted it to. Grief was something she would have more than enough time for in private, and the same went for her anger and desire for revenge. Right now, she had to remember she wasn’t, in fact, alone. And showing weakness to another werewolf was just not something you did. So instead she looked around once more, breathing the fresh night air, even looking up at the stars for a moment.
The silence lasted for a while, but Lyn didn’t mind. Silence had become a steady companion to her, besides, it was never absolute. Right now, she listened to the faint rustling of wind in the leaves, and the movements of various small animals all around them. It almost seemed like she had forgotten she had been talking to someone for a little while. Then she abruptly turned back to Peter, her head slightly tilted as she considered something.
“I could smell at least two packs today.” That was unusual for a small town like this, even if it really was a nice place. “Just how many are there?” And if he wanted to answer her unspoken question – Why are there so many? – he was welcome to it. The more information she could get about this place, the better. And if he didn’t want to tell her, she would find out on her own. And a change of topic was welcome, at least to her.

Tag; Peter Hale
Words; 691
Notes; n/A

Peter Hale
Omega

Thirty-Seven

Sous Chef at Bella Italia

Single

Sephy

164 posts

Another Trip [Open] May 29, 2015 3:07:04 GMT

Post by Peter Hale on May 29, 2015 3:07:04 GMT

Peter could understand her pain. How couldn’t he? He had lost everyone. Cousins, aunts, uncles, brothers, and Talia. He thought he had lost Cora as well, but she ended up being alive, which was pleasant. All he had had left was Laura and Derek and he had been left in a coma. No one visited him. No one came to see him. He was, of course, left to rot in his mind. Sit there and constantly think about what would have happened if he’d have woken up earlier, if he hadn’t gone to sleep, if he had been as alert as he was now. He dreamed about going back in time, saving them all, living a happy life. He dreamed about the burns licking at his skin almost constantly. He dreamed about their screams of pain and anguish in his vegetative state and could do nothing. All he could do was remember and hope and dream before he was finally strong enough to go out and seek revenge. It wasn’t hard for him to knew who had done it. It wasn’t hard for him at all and yet…and yet he could do nothing until he was completely healed, but once he was, they paid and he made sure of it. Did he regret it? No. Did he regret how he went about it? Yes.

Caelyn thanked Peter when he told her that he was sorry for her loss. He understood what it meant to have someone tell you that. Someone who understood your pain and understood what it was like to lose someone, or everyone you had ever loved. Peter had no one now, save for Cora and Derek. Both of which hated him more than anything, which he could understand. So, in the end, Peter had no family who cared for him. He wasn’t sure about the young girl before him, but he could understand how she felt. He could understand what it was like to think that you were so alone in the world no one would care if you were gone. No one would care if you left. No one would care if you vanished from the face of the earth. It was…heartbreaking to think about and painful as well but it was how Peter felt most of the time. Unless, of course, he was with Ayame. She was like the daughter he never had. She was sweet and often made him feel content with his life when he helped her. And when she got things, his heart swelled with pride. Of course, he didn’t tell her this, but he knew he didn’t have to. With her being a Druid, she could understand.

Apleasant silence filled the air between the two grieving werewolves. Neither seemed to notice the other’s weakness and got themselves all sorted out before the other could realize it. Peter returned his gaze to the girl as she told him that she could smell two packs today before asking how many there were. Peter sighed a bit. “There are…two that I’m aware of and several Omegas running around. There is one Alpha who has no pack, at least not here with her. Another Alpha has a pack that is full of unrelated werewolves. The final Alpha has a pack that is full of non-related supernaturals and humans. It’s…very interesting,” he told her, not sure what else to say. To be honest, he wasn’t sure what else to say. That was pretty much everything. It was hard to walk around Beacon Hills without knowing who was in whose pack. If it wasn’t for Ayame, Peter wouldn’t have known about the pack of misfit werewolves who banded together and lived in a large mansion in town. Peter had not been happy when he found out about their fight that they had had while Ayame was present, mostly because he worried for her safety.

Tag; @lenara
Words; 649
Notes; N/A

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Another Trip [Open] May 29, 2015 9:53:48 GMT

Post by Deleted on May 29, 2015 9:53:48 GMT

Morgan did not exactly get exactly the warmest welcome back home when he arrived at the Stilinski Residence. He was pretty sure his little brother seemed to hate him or resent him, but at least he had his old man on his side. However the news he had been informed of the last six years of history had not all been good, in fact one lead to his mood turning black then black, filled with sorrow that was like it was the world was on his shoulders. His father and little brother had broken the bad news that the person who was his most fondest and cherished friend was no more. Dear Laura had been torn apart in an animal attack gone wrong… he got the feeling his old man was leaving something out for his own sake but the Sheriff would not budge and Stiles had even been way to harsh about the whole matter. What happened to that sweet little ten year old that had a puppy dog styled crush on his best friends little brother? Speaking of his little brother he noticed the way how his brother aura was tainted black almost like as if something was choking the life out of him.

Morgan escaped the Stilinski residence to let his old man deal with Stiles and his undesirable behaviour and headed to the Cemetery for a long time coming visit to do people who had left him behind who he needed to say hello to and maybe find some closure to say goodbye, He stopped off at a nearby store that sold flowers and picked up a bunch of Claudia’s and Laura’s favourite flowers before making a beeline to the cemetery, with a sorrow that would choke any creature that had enhanced scent of smell when the wind shifted and carried his sea like scent. He opened the creaky wiry gate that lead into the cemetery and made his first stop by taking the long road around to Claudia’s grave. He gathered his thoughts and placed the flowers in the empty vase on the grave and noticed how well looked after the grave was and he assumed Stiles must come here often, so he followed suit and dusted of any dust with the sleeve of his hoody and offering up a silent communication to his second deceased adopted mother.

Morgan sighed and nodded at Claudia’s grave, the guilt and sorrow lighting a little as he headed towards the Hale plot where he was sure to find Laura’s grave where he could say his final tearful goodbye to the only person who truly knew him. He stopped in front of Laura’s and grave and it all seemed so final as he placed the flowers there, noting it was in better care then Claudia’s grave and he wondered if Derek or Peter was taking care of the grave, but he had not heard of either of them be in town or being awake from their coma in Peter’s case. His voice nearly broke and a lone tear slid done his alabaster coloured face, when he spoke up to Laura’s grave in his accented melodic voice from his European travels.

“hey Laur its been six years…”

Tag; Peter Hale @lenara
Words; 537
Notes; Depressive stuff D:

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Last Edit: May 29, 2015 10:13:53 GMT by Deleted

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Another Trip [Open] May 29, 2015 14:00:12 GMT

Post by Deleted on May 29, 2015 14:00:12 GMT

Caelyn had rarely been as grateful for something as she was for these moments of companionable silence, when both of them gave each other the time to sort out their emotions. For someone like her who always had to be alert, wary of any and everyone around her with only one or two exceptions, moments like this were rare. In fact, it was probably a first. Neither Laura nor Philippe, she knew, would ever completely understand her pain and the resulting emotions and scars. They tried, but sometimes even druids were only human. And now that both were at least half a state away, just when she was more alone than ever, she needed a moment like this the most.
Without even realizing the shift in her own emotions at first, she went from wary and resenting the man’s presence to actually being grateful for the company. It wasn’t something she would ever voice, but the hint of a smile when she had finally gotten her emotions sorted out for now could be an indication if someone cared to look.

She noticed the small sigh and blinked, slightly confused at that reaction. That confusion turned into a frown soon enough when he answered her though. “That’s an awful lot for a town like this.” Three Alphas… that had trouble written all over it, especially if you added the fact that one was without a pack. As for the… mixed pack, she had to admit she wasn’t too happy about it. Sure, she had heard about it happening, but having grown up among a werewolf only pack and only ever being betrayed by others, it felt somehow wrong. She was just about to say more, when she noticed a change in the air. At first it was only the hint of a new smell, somewhat salty and definitely one that didn’t belong here, even though Lyn couldn’t immediately place it. It was something attached to that smell that made her aware it must be a person – whatever kind of creature they were. Grief, sorrow, loss, so deep and profound that she inhaled sharply, her slight frame shivering a bit. Whoever that scent belonged to was still quite a bit away, just close enough for her overly sensible nose to make out their scent. For a moment, Lyn considered leaving, uncertain if she could deal with having these emotions slammed in her face like this. She decided against it though, her curiosity getting the better of her. First, she wanted to know just what this thing was.
“Do you smell that?” The question wasn’t as silly as if first seemed, she realized, as she noticed just how far she had to go to pick out more detail about the smell, her nostrils flared and lips slightly opened to catch more of it. Whoever it was that was so awfully depressed – male if she was not mistaken – was still a long way off. Too far away still for some. But the wind was shifting, it would be stronger soon. And the person was definitely getting closer.

After a moment, she could make out the faint scent of flowers mingled with the others and nodded to herself. Definitely bound for the cemetery. Interesting. “You know who that is?” What it was would probably be the better question. It smelled good though, as long as you left the choking sorrow out, which was about the only definite thing Lyn could say about it, other than it was supernatural and nothing she had ever come across before. Phew… couldn’t they keep their feelings to themselves? She always felt like she was spying on people when they carried their every emotion in their scent. Besides, sorrow and pain were among the most unpleasant to sniff out. Luckily, they seemed bound for another part of the cemetery, at least for now, stopping by a grave and getting rid of some of the flowers. She could hear fabric rustling across stone. Cleaning the grave.
The smell eased up a little, but Caelyn still wrinkled her nose. No control at all, forcing their emotions on people like this.
The young man came closer now, stopping by one of the Hale graves nearby, apparently without noticing them, and Lyn wished she had something to protect her nose. The only thing she was glad of was that she wasn’t in wolf shape right now. This was enough to knock anyone out.
She couldn’t help but listen in on his words, struggling to place his accent for a moment before just putting it down as European. Six years… a short look at the headstone told her the girl wasn’t dead as long as the others and part of her wondered what had happened to her in the end, before resigning that it had most likely been hunters. That was mostly the reason if one of their kind found an untimely end. That or pack rivalries. That settled, she glanced at Peter. “A friend of the family?”

Tag; Peter Hale, morgan
Words; 844
Notes; n/A

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Last Edit: May 29, 2015 14:32:01 GMT by Deleted

Peter Hale
Omega

Thirty-Seven

Sous Chef at Bella Italia

Single

Sephy

164 posts

Another Trip [Open] May 29, 2015 14:40:20 GMT

Post by Peter Hale on May 29, 2015 14:40:20 GMT

Caelyn had listened to what Peter said about the other werewolves in town. She told him that that was an awful lot for a town like this. The self-proclaimed Alpha nodded his head in response. ”That it is,” he mumbled. He didn’t like it. That many packs were not supposed to be in one area at a time. Soon boundaries would be crossed and new packs would emerge to take over the Beacon Hills area all thanks to that damned tree. Peter knew this wasn’t going to end well, it would probably end bloody, and he hoped that Scott had it in him to do what he had to do to keep Beacon Hills safe, to keep his loved ones safe. Peter, of course, would do what he could. He would lay down his own life if he had to in order to keep the town safe, to try and sponge the blood from his hands even though he knew they were stained red by now. It didn’t matter much, but he would do what he could to try and rectify his horrible choices.

The new smell joined the air around the two werewolves and a snarl started to form on Peter’s lips. One interruption was fine. But two? This was getting to get a little ridiculous and Peter wondered if people just waited for him to be alone in a cemetery before they approached. Still, when Caelyn asked him if he smelled whatever or whoever it was that approached them. Peter nodded his head. “Yes…and it smells strangely familiar…” His eyes narrowed as he tried to place it, tried to figure out who that belonged to. Whoever it was, he hadn’t seen or smelled them in a long time. This wasn’t going to be good. Now he had to tell more people about his horrible wrong doings and he could barely handle the nightmares that usually kept him awake at night. He didn’t like the choices he had made. He didn’t like the people he had hurt and killed, and almost killed, to get the revenge he so desperately wanted, but…he couldn’t have helped it if he tried at the time.

Finally, the person came to view and Peter gazed over at where the smell was. A blonde man stood in front of Laura’s grave. Caelyn asked him if he knew who that was. He nodded his head. He would know that head of blonde hair anywhere. He used to patter around following Laura like a love sick puppy. Peter, of course, found it disgusting, but Laura and Talia found it endearing, which did nothing but make him roll his eyes and gag. Hell, he felt like gagging now with all of the emotion that ran off that kid. He tried to focus on something else, something entirely different. The smell of the grass was nice so he tried to focus on that before Caelyn asked him if he was a friend of the family. ”Sort of… He was her friend. Followed her around like a puppy, he did,” he stated quietly, not wanting to disturb the boy and also really not wanting to deal with the questions that would eventually set the werewolf off.

Tag; @lenara & morgan
Words; 539
Notes; N/A