He arrived at the pie shop early that morning towing a handful of balloons that declared Evie Ducasse was officially fifty. After over a thousand birthdays he rarely even noticed when his own came rolling around, but this was different. Evie wasn’t immortal, and though she had barely changed since he’d met her all those years ago, he knew eventually she would. Every year was to be celebrated. And, in any case, he’d missed the last two. He waited for her to finish with her customer before offering the balloons. “Hey old lady,” he grinned. “Got any plans for this evening?”

“You read the sign right, honey. Everything’s just fifty cents today… we’re celebratin’.” She grinned, wiping the excess flour off of her hands and onto the apron that was tied around her waist as she stood behind the counter at the pie shop. It may have been her birthday, but she’d never been one who wanted to go out of her way to celebrate herself. So instead of taking the day off and making a big deal out of her 50th, she showed up early and changed all the signs in the shop to show that she was only charging fifty cents for everything. It was her own way of celebrating, and while it may not have been the best business decision, she didn’t much care. It made her happy and today, that was all that mattered.

Nik looked up from his sheet music and at the witch. He’d been planning on spending the day with his guitar in the woods and seeing where his whims took him. The coffee mug at his side said Howl you doin’  and he’d had five full cups already. “Why not. Enrich me.” He threw up his hands and put his sheet music away. 

Despite it being the subject (more or less) of the “survey” she intended to give, work had nothing to do with the reason why Imogen was standing in the town square. In fact, the big bosses would probably prefer her not to be doing this shit… you know, if they actually cared and were running one of the best station’s in the nation and not one based in a secret safe haven where only a couple of the programs aired nation-wide. Equipped with a clipboard, pen, and paper in an effort to look somewhat official and not like she was going to ask whatever random questions that came to mind (which she totally was), Imogen was motivated to stand about the square by boredom and boredom alone. Sauntering up to the person nearest to her, Imogen nodded her head at them. “Hey dude. Got a second to answer a couple questions for a survey? It’ll enrich your life, I promise.”

Gemma was more drunk than she needed to be and determined to meet Elvis if it was the last thing she did. She’d tried to convince her mom to take her to a concert as a child and she’d been devastated as a young adult when he’d died. It wasn’t until years later she’d learned he had never actually died and was in fact supernatural which renewed her hope one day she’d see him perform. Her hazy brain told her to just climb the fence, it would be totally fine, until her fingers slipped from the wire and she found herself free falling. Bracing herself for the impact to come, she was surprised when instead of hard ground, she was in the arms of Nik Greyson. “But I love him. I’ll heal, it’s totally fine.” Her words slurred slightly as she spoke and she slipped an arm around Nik’s neck to steady herself, not moving to get out of his arms.

His hands rested comfortably around Gemma's waist. He could smell the alcohol on her breath as well as the mud and dew under her shoes. All scents of the festival, and part of the wonderful thrum of music and dancing the revelers had been undertaking. "He's something special, for sure, but he's not worth a single drop of blood, blondie." He reached up to gently push a strand of hair away from her face. "Especially when I can get you backstage."

Monster Jam naturally meant mama Sopha chasing down pack puppies making sure they didn’t do anything too crazy and they sure were putting her to work today. Chasing Nolan towards the stage she watched him head over the fence and went up after him only for her foot to slip and her to come tumbling to the ground. She was surprised to find her brother there catching her. “He’s not really my type.” Sophia found herself muttering as she looked up at her little brother. “Hey, Dom.

“Yeah, yeah. We all know your type, Soph. I’m still nauseous from all that lovey dovey wedding stuff last month.” He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead and stood a little taller. He didn’t need her to mother hen him, even though he knew she would. “You considering having fun or are you just going to chase down all us misbehaving pups?”

Joslyn had thought it would be a splendid idea climb over the fence. Elvis and she went way back after all and it was only fitting she get some quality time with an old friend. Sadly, the fence didn’t agree with her and suddenly she found herself falling back into a pair of strong arms from her past. Jos couldn’t help the audible groan. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She muttered looking up at Dominik Greyson. “Well fancy meeting you here handsome.”

“You know me Jo, I wouldn’t miss any excuse to get drunk and dance around a field.” The sides of his lips lifted in a lopsided grin. “Don’t you think you should stop chasing good old Elvis around though? We both know I’m his favorite.”

“Clearly.” He dryly countered. And speaking of looking for some bullshit. Upon nearing Nik’s excessively slurred tone, Johnathan scoffed, purposely maneuvering his shoulder slightly upward to move the werewolf’s paw off of him. Eyeing Nik, his expression only grew increasingly disgusted at the remark. “If you’re going to even attempt to speak to me, you should know that topic is more than off limits.” Drunk or sober.

“Now, now Johnny boy. She’s an adult. I’m an adult. What has happened in the past,” he waved a hand in flippant regard for the past centuries, “all behind us. Personally, I think she might still be carrying a torch for me in that black, black heart of hers.”

“My hero.” She mused, laugh leaving her lips as she grinned up at him. “I wasn’t actually lookin’ for Elvis… I was lookin’ for you. You been hidin’ from me?” She asked, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You promised me at least one go down the slip n’ slide and I haven’t seen you all day. You’re startin’ to hurt my feelin’s darlin’.”

“And only one go.” Nik held his finger, sighing. It wasn’t that he didn’t think the slip n’ slide would be fun, it was that he didn’t trust his feet. Despite the years, he was a bit of a klutz and prone to accidents. He had an angry gardener banging on his door in regards to said accidents. He didn’t need social media posts of him wiping out at Monster Jam. “And you give me your phone now, because there will be no pictures of this event.”

“And they say chivalry is dead.” The blur of motion as the girl fell from the fence caught his attention. Once he saw who had caught the woman his focus shifted from the clumsy supernatural to the original werewolf. “How could your family ever have been so wrong? Clearly, you’re the most decent.”

The lady stumbled off. Somehow in the whole event, she’d managed to keep at least half of her beer bottle full. It was a commendable effort. “Saving one lady from a bashed in skull don’t make me a saint. Don’t you worry leech, I’m fully dedicated to my role as family disappointment.”

ophelia-hale

“Is he really even that handsome, though?” Ophelia asked, once the woman was safely on the ground and on her way. She had been standing on the edges of the crowd, debating braving the press of bodies to get closer, it was Elvis, after all. She was gay, not blind. But there were so many bodies. Too many. Too much exposed skin. And with it being Elvis, there would be too many high emotions, all clashing with one another. And seeing the woman attempting to scale the fence… well, she was pretty confident that she had made the right choice, after all.

“Well you have obviously never seen the man naked.” He offered his hand to the reveler as she came back and this time successfully scaled the fence. “I’ve seen many a handsome face in my lifetime. He’s definitely in the top twenty.”

“I like to live in the now. Stories of the past only bore me.” Watching him down the shot, she couldn’t help but smirk. Turning to the bartender, and ordering another round for the both of them. “You could start explaining to me why everyone is so excited for this god forsaken music festival. The only positive thing I am seeing here is the top shelf liquor.” shrugging at the thought. Amelia hadn’t really planned on talking with anyone, only attending for the booze that would be here, but she had to admit. Drinking was fun with other people. “I only came for the alcohol as you can see.” she said before holding up another shot and downing it.

He lifted the shot and downed it without another thought. "Are you saying you don't enjoy music?" He brushed off a few drops of liquor that had slid down his chin and sucked it off his thumb. Throughout the centuries, he'd gravitated toward music. Solemn, upbeat, rock, classical. The style didn't matter, only that he could get lost in the melodies. Get lost and forget the centuries and their pain. "There is more to life than alcohol."

It’s always good to know just how much your not needed. And there it was. Nate’s eyes glanced up over his laptop to catch Nik’s gaze, a small sigh escaping. Closing his laptop, he gave Dominik his full attention, seeing that work was going to take a backburner today. While he didn’t know how to answer Nik – he’d apologized more than once already, and there were only so many times he could say it before it started to lose it’s meaning – he knew he couldn’t ignore his little brother, either. “You’re always needed, Nik. If I thought you wanted a job here, you could start as early as tomorrow.” Unfortunately, as Nik said, he wasn’t missing anything. He didn’t want to be here, and Nate couldn’t do anything about that.

“What are you really doing here?” Nate leaned back on the couch; looking at a brother he loved dearly, and had no idea how to make amends with. It broke his heart more than he could say, and more than Nik would ever care about. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what you want.”

Dominik shook his head. There was his big brother, seeing right through his bullshit. Even when he wasn't being so transparent, Nate always seemed to have an affinity picking past Nik's lies and illusions. He knocked his feet off the desk and leaned forward, elbows on the wood. "You know who I was thinking about recently? Thyri. I used sit up on the shore and watch you and her fishing. She was a funny thing wasn't she? Must have gotten that from her mother."

Thoughts of his own daughter skirted around the edges of those words. Astrid's hearty screams when she was angry, her chubby cheeks. He didn't let his mind follow those memories though, because they all lead to the singular image of her in a vampire's arms, being drained. He took a breath. "I don't know what the fuck I want Nate. I don't have a day planner or a goddamn secretary. And no I don't forgive you yet, but I'm bored, angry, and not sleeping. So cancel your boring meetings and come fishing with me."

He picked up a letter opener, smirking. "And just so we are clear I would rather stab myself in the eye with this thing then work in an office."

"Well I got in, so I guess not." Nik clapped Jonathan on the shoulder, squeezing it just a little tighter than necessary. He was more than buzzed, but for once wasn't looking to pick a fight or stir up any trouble. He just wanted to dance, drink, sleep and repeat. He'd woken that morning on Evie's porch and slipped away before she woke. "I think I saw your mother dirty dancing to Beyonce an hour ago. Quite a sight."

Really the only reason Johnathan had actually gone to the festival was the fact that the previous town event had been a dud in regards to finding anything of substance with the recent threats. He’d been occupied doing a good deal of looking into them lately and well, maybe this time, something would turn out. If not, strike would prove to be an unnerving disappointment. As the music blasted from the latest act, he ended up catching another ball from the pit that hurled in his direction, followed by footing away from the slid that splashed wildly every time someone went down it. “Really can’t invest in better defenses can they?” 

"Well if my magical night spent with Mr. Presley is boring you so much, what kind of story do you like?" He took the shot immediately, downing it and smacking the shot glass against the counter. He slid a lime between his teeth as he felt the liquor slipping into his bloodstream. "Or better yet, what would amuse you?"

“Please do not bore me with you’re conversation.” Amelia told the person, sitting beside her at the bar. Her tone evident with annoyance. “I am trying to get a buzz, and you are ruining that with your boring stories.” Holding up the shot of tequila and bringing it to her lips, letting the clear liquid burn her throat. The blonde’s hair was in messy waves, and was dressed in a black crop top and cut off high waisted black jean shorts. 

“Here, if you must sit here, at least have a shot.” sliding the glass over toward’s the person, waiting patiently for them to down the shot, in hopes too having a drinking buddy for the night. 

"Careful gorgeous." He'd been standing at the edge of the crowd just to the side of one of the tall fences and light stands enclosing Elvis's stage. It was later in the afternoon, the sun kissing the trees on the horizon line. Evie was somewhere in the crowd, probably looking for leverage to get him on that slip n' slide, and he'd successfully spent the day bouncing from one show to the next. One of the revelers slipped trying to climb the fence and in an instant he was there to catch her. "Elvis is handsome, but he ain't worth a bashed in skull."

There was a cracked, half-finished bottle of Jameson in Nik's hand. He'd lost his shirt sometime during Elvis's first set and been glitter bombed by a group of girl's in Taylor Swift t-shirts. This was exactly his kind of chaos. Sweaty bodies, the last roar of summer heat, music just this edge of too loud. He felt, for a minute, like he was his old self again. As he made a break toward one of the fried pickle stands on the edge of field, he noticed a Blackwell by one of the medical tents. Why the hell not, he thought. He walked over, offering over the whiskey. "Drink up, old man. You are looking like a supreme buzzkill out here."

Noah was bored out of his mind, he hadn’t had a patient all day. He’d volunteered to man one of the medical tents, but the person set to take the shift after his was already three hours and he had no expectations of them coming. Deciding, why the hell not, Noah propped a cigarette between his lips and lit it, inhaling as he headed to an cooler box in the tent and pulling out a beer a friend had brought ‘for when he had a break’. Cracking the beer open, Noah sat himself on a makeshift hospital bed, listening to the festivities.

@nathanielxgreyson