mikkelhemlock·:

Rounding the corner, Mikkel glanced in the direction of the blonde, watching as her fingers delicately danced across the pebbles surface. Which in turn, urged a brow upwards as she finally shifted her form to face him. “Oh no go on, Katja, I’m already impressed.” Offering the woman a one of a kind yet still lazy smirk, he proceeded to lean against the side of the car, a cigarette dangling from the tips of his digits. “It’s been awhile since you’ve walked these streets now hasn’t it? Too long, things were starting to grow a little dull.” 

Lifting the cancer stick to his lips, he inhaled, the smoke rounding its way through his chest cavity and down as he caught her stare once more. “I hope you remember me, we did attend the same High School after all.” Noting the paper wrapping on many of the scultples, Mikkel gently pressed his forefinger along the pad of his thumb, the motion creating the smallest series of sparks to be illuminated against the paper, though nothing burned. “Any bells ringing because you should see me with a couple of matches.”

-

The Baranovas hadn’t been tight with the other witches in town, something Katja was eternally grateful for, but it was impossible to avoid them all. And sometimes she didn’t even particularly want to. She glanced behind her, making sure Mikhail had vanished inside before settling down on one edge of the truck, foot kicked up and worn boot resting near the visitor. “Yeah, I remember you,” she said, looking him up and down before raising an eyebrow and grinning slightly. “You were kind of a piece of shit.” She watched the sparks fly and rolled her eyes, smile still on her face.

“You break it you bought it,” Katja warned, crossing her arms and tilting her head. “So. Hard to believe things ever got dull around here, especially with you still wandering around. Seen anything fun lately?”

augustmathesius​:

-

It would’ve made more sense for the male to find his way out, escaping into the cool night air; maybe even allowing himself to shift. Just so his thoughts would become muddled between man and wolf, and all memories would be shelved once more. Except that hardly seemed an option now, as he watched her fingers dance across the metal chains, catching the light every so often and making them appear as if they glowed. “Some things never change,” Nodding his head towards the bartender, he reached for his wallet, laying a few bills down before pushing them towards the edge of the counter. 

“Busy is one way to put it, yeah.” Watching as the amber-hued liquor was poured, August carefully choose his next words. “Working more than I should probably, but then again someone in this town needs to.” And it had been that very attitude that earned him Chief of Police. “What about you, the big ole world out there missing you already?" 

-

She laughed a little at that, a sound less of amusement and more of general bafflement with the state of the world. “Don’t know if it’s missing me, but I definitely miss it. It feels too slow around here now.” She took the drink and weighed it in her hand for a second, taking a long look at August and ignoring the way her stupid silly heart beat a little faster. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s a chance to save money. Nice to have a relationship with my siblings again, despite the circumstances.”

The energy in the house over the past month had been strained, as she struggled to keep Mikhail and Irina going despite it all. She’d wished she could just say fuck it and keep them home for a bit instead of feeling the fear every day they left the house to go to school. Maybe it would be easier if she’d been around, if she’d really known them, but when she left they’d been barely out of diapers and their relationship had been purely through FaceTime since then. She came back to herself, realizing she had zoned out slightly, tracing patterns in the light condensation on her glass. “Hard to believe you’ve only been working since I last saw you. Anything else?”

dilandmir·:

@intheshadowsstarters·

Location: The Dirty Habit

Dilan stood behind the bar with a smirk pressed to her lips as she listened to a regular ramble about the events of the day. “Sounds like you’ve put yourself in the dog house, Jer.” She said with a shake of her head, signalling to her coworker to water down his drink. The slur of his words signalled that he was a few drinks from passing out or trying to head home in his car which was never a good thing. A figure was caught in her peripheral vision as she slung the hand towel over her shoulder and turned towards the new patron. “You having a good night, baby?” she asked as chestnut hues trailed over them. “What can I get you? Are we drinking our sorrows away or celebrating tonight?”

✾

Katja wasn’t really sure why she’d gone on the date. The guy had been reasonably hot and kind of funny over texts, but she’d known early on that she wasn’t going to sleep with him, which is pretty much the only reason she used dating apps in the first place. Thankfully he’d seemed to get the hint when she’d said she needed to use the bathroom and then fully left the building, seeking some sort of shelter in the bar across the street. “Hey,” she replied with a slightly crooked grin. “Neither, really. Got anything back there that will make this night not a total waste?”

apollogrxy·:

☾

As she explained the clientele for her more original creations, Apollo gave the statue in front of him a more critical eye. After all, Christmas was approaching and it never hurt to get on the Luna’s side with a gift. She loved the grounds behind the Alpha House that were cleared and kept for their numerous Pack gatherings and he figured that a talking piece for the backyard definitely would be something right up her alley. “You got a website or something?” Apollo asked, truly contemplating the idea of such a commission now. He was definitely not bad off after being promoted to third-in-command of the pack a few years prior and such a gift interested him. It was better than more picture frames for the house or a blanket or mug, he reasoned.

Dark eyes jumped to the smaller statues as they were handed off to a younger male, Apollo taking in the boy and his scent as well, saving it to memory as he always did. It was a part of the hunter training he had instilled in him, every scent could be a trail the next time he came across it. “They’re cute. My sister would probably squeal over the little squirrels as well.” He commented, a smile passing over his lips for a brief moment. “Apollo Gray- it’s nice to meet you.” He said, offering a hand out her way and letting his wolf rise slightly to ensure there was no one approaching, listening closely for footsteps, heartbeats, or breaths before saying, “And I guess it’s safe too assume that you’re an Earth witch then, right?”

✾

Faced with the prospect of a commission, Katja’s mood picked up significantly. Drumming up more business around town was exactly what she needed, and the reason why so many of her works had graduated to the front lawn in the hopes of getting passersby interested. An art teacher’s salary was hard to support one person with, let alone two teenagers and a still unpaid mortgage. “Yeah actually, I should have a business card around here somewhere.” She dug around in the inner pocket of her loose leather jacket until her fingers landed on the business cards she’d spent hours designing. Passing it over, she added, “When you order something let me know it’s you, I’ll give you a locals discount.” 

The smile that had drifted to her face at his compliments dropped the instant he spoke. “Misha, sadit'sya v gruzovik.” Her tone dropped from the cheery voice of someone about to make a sale to something hushed and urgent, and Mikhail quickly obeyed, locking the truck door behind him. “Look, I don’t want any shit, okay?” She looked down at him, cursing the asphalt covering the soil she could feel was there. Maybe he wasn’t attacking, maybe he even meant to be friendly, but he was bold enough to call it out and he’d seen Mikhail, had information about how to find her in the future. Her heart was beating loud in her ears and all she could think about what her parents walking into the woods and disappearing. “I know everyone’s got beef with each other here, I’m not interested.” Her fingers rested on the stone of the statue as she looked at him. “Clear?”

apollogrxy·:

☾

The couple of days after a full moon was always one full of ravenous hunger and exhaustion, but the day after a blue moon was something that only the older ‘wolves in the Roldche River Pack had ever experienced and Apollo was not one of them. With the Blue Moon’s rare strength, the ‘wolves had been forced to stay shifted throughout the entire night of Halloween and, unlike usual, the pureness of the full moon had seemed to make the Pack a fair harder to contain than usual. That meant that the entire night had been spent with Apollo nipping at the heels of younger ‘wolves or ‘wolves that had less of a solid grip on their wolf side just to keep them in their territory and far away from the areas of the woods that humans liked to camp or party in.

Now, he was wandering through town beat and wanting nothing more than a quiet corner booth and a bite to eat, but instead resigned to picking up the items on a list that the Luna had given him. Some of the pups had destroyed the gardens of the Alpha House during the full moon run so the groundskeeper needed some things and apparently, Apollo had been taking too long of a nap on the couch to seem as if he was too busy for errands. He parked the truck he borrowed in front of the garden center and was heading towards the entrance when he spotted the witch, smelling the magic on her skin before really seeing her. “You’re not in my way, don’t worry about it. I can work around you.” Apollo assured her, giving her a once over and placing her in his mind. It was his business as a pack leader to know the other supernaturals in town as much as possible. “You make all those then?” He asked as he continued to approach, now focusing on the statues that she had mentioned unloading.

As he approached she rolled a ring over on her finger, feeling the gem inside press hard against her palm in the case of any trouble. He didn’t seem like he intended any harm, but you never knew. Especially not in Roldche River. Keeping one eye on him she glanced back down at the statues at her feet, a little gleam of pride in her eyes. “Yeah. Got a few more on commission but those are the complicated ones, you know? For rich people who want something ‘handmade and totally original’.” Her fingers came up to form the quotation marks around those last words and she rolled her eyes a little with a slight grin. “Unbearable as clients but at least they pay.”

She knelt to start bundling up the next group to pass to Mikhail, a group of smaller statues in the style of animals to populate gardens. “Kinda prefer these, honestly. Pay’s not as good, but I like knowing some suburban grandmothers are out there squealing over them.” She turned, settling a statue on her hip as if it were a basket or a toddler. “I’m Katja. You?”

augustmathesius·:

A month? The length of time wasn’t lost on him, though August didn’t bother to extend much of a response. Instead, he thoroughly worked on composing himself, focusing on the ticking of the clock set just behind her, high on the bar wall. As if somehow, he could urge back the hands and prevent himself from ever walking into the pub in the first place. “I hear they’re known too, yeah.” Finally dropping his gaze from the arched ceilings back to the bartender, he lifted a hand in a modest greeting. 

“What are you drinking, Kat?” There was no point in ignoring the blonde, not when he knew his stare would be drawn back to her with every attempt to glance anywhere else. The all too familiar trail of spice mixed with cinnamon intoxicating his senses as he took up the barstool beside her. “I was thinking a beer, but at this rate, I’ll be settling for a whiskey or two.”

A dozen responses rose to her tongue, each crueler than the last, but she bit them back down with a drink, her head tilting back as she drained the last of her glass. Be kind, солнышко, she heard her mother’s words echoing. Be patient. Be calm. Fiddling with her jewelry, she took a breath and glanced at him again. He looked good. Older, more tired, but good. The little bitter voice she carried inside of her scowled at that. It would be easier if he’d gotten ugly while she’d been gone.

“I’ll take a whiskey,” Katja replied, ignoring the nickname she didn’t let anyone use these days. “On the rocks.” That came with a tiny private smile, a stupid joke for herself and no one else. Small pleasures, right? “So. What have you been up to? Keeping busy?”

The Baranova Home

Small, cluttered, and lively, this is the home of Katja, Mikhail, and Irina Baranova. The eclectic design is visible even from the street in the dozens of statues and other pieces of art which fill their lawn, woven in amongst the thriving gardens. The plants grow tall and fast, even when other lawns in the area struggle with brown patches and wilting flowers.

@intheshadowsstarters​

Mikhail groaned in annoyance as the truck pulled over at the garden centre, the teenager slumping in his seat. With a short laugh, Katja glanced over at him and ruffled his hair, irritating him further. “Buck up, kid, you’re getting twenty dollars for this.” Clambering out of her truck, she slammed the door shut before opening the bed. “Right, so we’re going to be taking these in that back entrance over there and placing them gently on the ground. If you break it, you fix it, and your detail-work needs practice so do not break it.” She climbed up into the bed and began passing down the wrapped sculptures to her brother, the hum of the stone and clay beneath her fingers sending a rush of energy through her. Mikhail rolled his eyes for the tenth time that day and began carrying the small statues over in the pointed direction, leaving Katja standing in her truck. One small corner peeking out caught her eye and she tiled her head back and forth, trying to figure out what didn’t look right. “Oh rookie mistake, Fima,” she muttered to herself, reaching out with her thumb and smoothing the scale of the figure’s head down just a little, the magic making the stone pliable to her touch. At the sound of footsteps behind her she jerked her hand away and glanced at the approaching figure. “Hey! Hope we’re not parked in a spot you need, we’re probably going to be here for a bit unloading these things.”

augustmathesius·:

Who: @earthenkatja· Where: The Nightcrawler

Somewhere along the way, it seemed a delusion had begun to bloom about the wolf’s mind, and he couldn’t do much to shake it. Though for as many people who claimed to perceive it, it had emerged that no one really did in the long run. In shorter words, the moment August had dismissed his claim on the title of Alpha, he’d forsaken any choices remaining solely personal for the surplus of his breathing days. Most seemed to have an opinion on it, even internally a war seemed to be waging. Man against wolf, and the male struggled with it. Though it wasn’t as if the male had any regrets, he just wished those would open their minds to the authentic realization that his happiness was not something worth accounting for anymore. Not when every turn took him in a different direction, and he was left with building doubt. Admittedly most couldn’t understand simply because he would not explain. So as he entered in to the familiar bar, his coat being shrugged from his frame, the one person he hadn’t expected to see cast a shadow in his eye line. “Didn’t know there were ghosts in this town…”

It wasn’t as if Katja had ever been the most sociable person. Not the type to go to every party, not the type to spend her nights at the club dancing. But the small house filled with memories and two siblings dealing with the uprooting of their lives had grown claustrophobic and as soon as the two had been fed and reminded of their homework, she had gotten in her truck and driven down the winding streets to the Nightcrawler. Not able to get too drunk, the plan was to nurse a beer and stare directly at the wall for several hours and try to put off an entirely unapproachable energy. All hopes of going ignored were shattered at the sound of a voice she had very much hoped never to hear again, and the stones on her rings rattled slightly as her irritation coursed through them. “Got back a little over a month ago,” she said, unconvincing fake smile plastered on her face. What with you folks not finding my parents and all. “Not in my original game plan but, well, plans change. Don’t they.”

Katja // Earth Witch // Artist

► basics; Full Name: Katja Serafima Baranova Nicknames: Fima Age: 29 Birthday: March 1 Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Relationship Status: Single Occupation: Art teacher and sculptor Nationality: Russian-born Canadian

► background;

Place of Birth: Zhigulyovsk, Russia Hometown: Roldche River, Canada Education: BA in Studio Arts, Masters of Education

► physical;

Faceclaim: Carlson Young Eye Color: Hazel Hair Color: Blonde Height: 5′ 2″ Tattoos, Birthmarks, Scars, etc: scars on hands from misplaced chisels, burn scars from welding. many tattoos of birds, flowers, bones, people, etc. double pierced ears

► relatives;

Father’s Name: Anatoly Father’s Status: Missing. Mother’s Name: Vanya Mother’s Status: Missing Siblings: Mikhail (16), Irina (14)

► personality;

Positive Traits: loyal, protective, dedicated, driven Negative Traits: spiteful, short-tempered, reclusive

► misc;

Hobbies: Sculptor, Pets: Cats. Six that she actually owns, and a large feral colony that she cares for. Perhaps the most stereotypically witchy thing about her

►biography;

Katja’s ancestors resisted the Yearning for a long time. Sure, it sung out to them in the quieter moments, but they had built lives for themselves in Russia. This was home, with family and history and community. They made good lives for themselves caring for the earth and their farmland thrived. It was only when her grandfather passed and the uneasy treaty with another coven fell apart. Their farm burned and the family scattered in all directions, Katja’s parents taking their young daughter and boarding a plane to follow the Yearning.

It wasn’t easy to start out in a new country, having to navigate both coven politics, a new language, and the constant hanging weight of the feuds which permeated the town. Katja, formerly a cheerful and extroverted child, began to withdraw, refusing to engage with her new classmates and even ignoring her parents and infant siblings. Instead, she would sit and draw for hours at a time, in notebooks, in the margins of other books, on the walls and floors when she ran out of those. Magic was another solace for her. It’s easy to avoid people you don’t want to talk to when you can slip into the earth, mold the space around you to suit your needs. Perhaps not the most emotionally healthy childhood, but her abilities strengthened quickly as she used them to build an earthen shell around herself.

Things got better as she got older. Boys and girls started to notice her, her distance and artistic talent became intriguing rather than weird. She floated from group to group, never quite finding the right place but being somewhat at home in all.  University was a godsend, where she first started dating, where she first started to think she could maybe make a life doing what she liked rather than what was expected. August was perhaps the brightest chance of all. Human, loving, interested in travel, he was everything she could have hoped for. She fell hard and fast and inexorably, like an avalanche tumbling down a mountain slope. The shift from engagement to distance blindsided her, left her clutching for a sign of the love that had been there just recently, until one day she woke up and realized this wasn’t worth the struggle. She felt the Yearning, same as anyone, but she couldn’t stay here. Not with a coven, not with the species surrounding them, not with this man who didn’t love her anymore. Exchanging one pain for another, she got in her shitty pickup truck and drove. The next few years were a bit of a mess, even Katja would admit that. Bouncing between retail jobs to put herself through school, living in one crappy apartment after another, always with a delightfully human roommate or four. Her few relationships never worked out, all overshadowed by the specter of witchcraft and August. But it was worth it to be normal and free. Even better when her sculptures started selling. Never enough to support herself on, but the smooth lines that looked almost naturally formed were enough to draw a few interested buyers.

And then Anatoly and Vanya vanished. The details were somewhat unclear, and an attempt to find them was made, but there was no sign of either. Katja knew with a certainty as firm as stone beneath her feet that some group in Roldche River had killed them. Add that to the fact that her siblings now needed a legal guardian and the cost of living being much lower in Roldche, and she found herself back on the road, her possessions in the bed of her truck and several cat crates tucked carefully beside her.

Now living in her parents’ old house, Katja found a job as an art teacher at the local school, supplementing her income with night classes for adults and the sculpting which has taken over the entirety of their small back yard. She has many reservations about involvement with the local coven, but they may be her only shot at finding out what exactly happened to her family.