svguinus
lost
Crows remember human faces. They remember the people who feed them, who are kind to them. And the people who wrong them too. They don’t forget. They tell each other who to look after and who to watch out for.
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O INTANGÍVEL
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WHO — hal osborne & open ( @hexstarters )
WHERE — the old town gallery
HAL HAD BARELY BEEN BACK A WEEK and he was already anxious to leave again. He knew he wouldn't be leaving anytime soon but still his flesh felt like jumping off his bones. It was always the same reaction when he returned. Grief, guilt & nostalgia all wrapped into one. He didn't really have any patients yet so he decided to wander.
Somehow, he ended up at the gallery. He walked among the painting, casually noting which ones were younger and older than him respectively. He paused to stare at a particular piece, not far from someone else. He heard them mutter something and he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips. ❝ Apologies, ❞ he murmured back, but still smiled to himself.
#this is bad but i need him on the dash#✧.*･ﾟ𝔥. 𝔬𝔰𝔟𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔢 — starter. ❞#hexstart#✧.*･ﾟ𝔥. 𝔬𝔰𝔟𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔢 — interactions. ❞
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FOR A PERSON WHO AVOIDED TALKING to most people, Francesca surprisingly like group. Maybe it told her somewhere deep inside she wasn't alone. Maybe it was just a place away from most prying eyes. It was probably the only place she let her guard slip, even just a little. The presence & friendship of Gabe was also a bonus. Francesca didn't have a lot of friends in Hexmore, but she preferred the people who only knew her after. Thinking about what her life was like before she left or right after she returned... it was too hard most days. That's why Gabe was perfect. He knew enough not to talk about it, but he'd listen if she needed. Not that she really took him up on that.
She followed after his silently, a few seconds after his own departure. Francesca had a cigarette ready before her hands even hit the door. While she always told herself she was going to quit, in the past five years she'd made no effort to do so. Lost the motivation. She lit her cigarette as Gabe started going off and waiting for her turn to speak.
She let him rant a little before finally blowing out and speaking. ❝ Practice. ❞ She gave a half-hearted shrug. ❝ Childhood & beyond taught me the skills to deal with, ❞ she motioned vaguely toward the group, mimicking his action, ❝ all that. Besides, ❞ she took a drag from her cigarette, ❝ we get enough tourists that you can pretend no one really knows you. And if you only sit in your house and go out to work and drink, you forget that everyone knows you and talks about you. ❞
She dropped her cigarette on the ground and ground it out with her shoe. ❝ Besides, who gives a fuck? ❞ It was flat, a statement really. ❝ Martha's husband died and she misses him. The more she says the less I have to. Some people just want to remember they're not alone for five minutes. It's bullshit but it helps. ❞ Or at least she had to keep telling herself that it did or else where was she. ❝ Why don't we just go get a drink and forget about this place for another week? ❞
@svguinus
Gabriel was fed up with counseling. It did absolutely nothing for him but reminded him he was alone. That the only person who could never die, died on him. It left him prickly and made him want to fight everyone. The only person from the group that didn't make him angry was Francesca. It might've been because the two lost their significant others mysteriously. She did a great job walking the tightrope of holding Gabriel accountable for his bullshit and being understanding through it all. The only reason Gabriel continued to frequent the counseling sessions because it was court mandated.
He had lost his cool one night at a bar. He was reminiscing about his ex Sabine and had drank too much to be sane and coherent. Thus he started a fight and landed a few people in the hospital. Whether it was the pack's involvement or pity from the judge they gave him a light sentence. Besides community service he was subjected to two years of counseling.
As the group adjourned Gabriel muttered to Fran that he'll be outside. He swiftly dodged the questions and small talk as he exited the facility. He hung out off the side of the building near the side entrance that had two small steps and a rail. It's where he would meet Fran after their meetings, away from the prying eyes. The minute he saw Fran he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. "I'm so fucking tired of Martha," He spat out.
Martha was a woman who lost her husband a long time ago. She had moved on from his death for many years. However, she continued to go to group for whatever reason. What made Gabriel angry was that she tried to empathize with him, and many others. When she simply would never understand the loss of someone unexpectedly.
Gabriel was doing his best to stay calm and not let it get to him. Fran's presence did a great job in keeping him in check. "How the fuck does anyone let her talk? Why is she there?" He motioned back towards the group congregating outside the doors. "Fuck me," He rubbed his face, "How do you do this shit? It feels like this town is small enough that everyone knows who the fuck you are and your shit. If I was you I'd fucking set fire to this group. The fucking side comments from these assholes." Gabriel huffed some more, only riling himself up further.
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FRANCESCA COULDN'T HELP BUT FEEL a little jilted by the initial response, but as the trespasser, she let it slide. An uncharacteristic snort left her body. ❝ I suppose you could say I relate, but in a less clinical way. ❞ Francesca loved knowing things more than actually executing them. Finding and keeping information was much more her speed. A smile spread across her face, slow and relaxed. ❝ Funny, who would have thought? ❞ she teased back. Francesca didn't frequent the hospital — some problems with seeing people wounded since... well, she just didn't go to the hospital a lot. So it was no surprise she didn't really know the person in front of her. ❝ Francesca Hart. ❞ She extended her hand as she stepped forward. ❝ It's good to know there's people doing stuff that matters in Hexmore. ❞
❛ I’M SURE SHE WOULD BE PLEASED TO KNOW that her well-being garnered your interest. ❜ Or rather, that her repeated bouts of tears had been loud enough to draw the attention of passersby. As someone who had never once wanted children of her own, Ana was just as happy to mend their wounds and play the role of doting caretaker for a day. ❛ I can’t blame you, sometimes I think that morbid curiosity led me to this profession in the first place. ❜ She leaned back against the exam table. ❛ Mishap with the wrong end of a paring knife, if you can believe it, ❜ she cracked a smile. ❛Apparently, knives are sharp. Shocking, I know. ❜
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SOCIAL PLEASANTRIES WERE ALL SAVED in Francesca's mind for her hours at the library. On her own time, she could be as bitter and petty as she wanted. ❝ Fair enough. ❞ She added a little shrug, but she still didn't really like the other's attitude. ❝ Welcome to Hexmore, ❞ she muttered, waving a hand as she turned to leave.
Mari rolled her eyes, she had lived almost 600 years. The mortal was laughable to her. If she wanted to overact over something trivial, she'd leave her to it.
The vampire had visited Hexmore before this woman had even existed. "I have no issues, darling. I have my drink. Just get on with your night."
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i took my mother’s name when she sired me. she lived in france with my step-father, philippe. he’s no longer with us. he died? yes.
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AUTUMN'S EYES WIDENED BUT SHE DID nothing else but nod. She'd been hearing plenty of things but they were all town whispers, nothing concrete. ❝ Is is just the Alcotts or—or are there going to be witches as well? ❞ Autumn still didn't have too many experiences with witches, she was nervous by nature and stuck to what Alden suggested. She was sure other vampires would come, Alden wasn't the only vampire that frequented the family. However, if it was a big deal, there was a chance it would be more than just vampires.
Alden hated bakeries, too many memories of past lives. But he did his best to ignore the smell. He was here for Autumn.
"I think it's... important we stick together in this time." Things were getting tense in Hexmore. It was important he had the support of the other vampires. "Yes. The witch Supreme. But she's not important. But her absence... now that's very important."
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AUTUMN GRINNED AS SHE TOOK the lollipop from Teddy's hand. She wasn't the most fond of feeding so any way she could pretend she wasn't was the best thing for her. She twirled the new creation in her hand and frowned as she thought. ❝ Blood-o-pop... Bloody-loli... ❞ She looked up at him and pulled a face. ❝ I don't think I'm the one to help you with this, ❞ she said sternly, then broke into a smile, laughing at her own names. She would've thrown everything out the window and dedicated a whole new life to inventing names of things if Teddy ask her for genuine help. But she was too meek to go out of her way to offer it.
The small brunette could barely keep the smile from rushing to her face as he accepted ( or at least considered accepting ) her help. ❝ It's no trouble at all! ❞ she gushed, answered all too quickly & silently cursed at herself for it. She cleared her throat. ❝ I just mean that you're welcome in the back. No one else is supposed to be in for another few hours. ❞
Autumn wasn't sure if she'd ever been more grateful that someone she liked was inconvenienced. Not that she wished Teddy any sort of problem but being able to help made her still heart soar. ❝ Why don't you head back right now and I'll deal with her and then come join you. Feel free to just look around, I'm certainly not going to make you help me work just for saving you. ❞ Was she being dramatic? Was she really saving him? She wanted to believe so.
"I'll keep with my steady diet of lollipops," he said, fishing two out of his pocket and offering one over to Autumn. He refused to feed off of the living and subsided entirely on donated blood procured from the hospital. There was a surplus of blood that couldn't be used due to a high (or low) iron count or a variety of other deficits. In the evenings, he took some of the blood and played with incorporating it into food that he could have while out in public - his biggest success was taking the idea of a tootsie pop and replacing the tootsie-roll center with blood. "I haven't come up with a clever name for these yet."
Despite Teddy residing in Hexmore for decades, he had yet to form deep connections with anyone beyond Ana -- and he still wasn't sure how that happened. Autumn though - she was someone that he was comfortable enough around - not necessarily trust - but she was growing on him. "I don't want to go out of your way. I would only be able to find nourishment from the inside and my sense of taste is ... very close to non-existent. I can taste water and unsalted/unbuttered popcorn."
(meaning - he couldn't taste at all).
Autumn didn't have the courage to flirt -- Teddy couldn't see that she had a crush.
His relaxed posture shifted as she refocused on his problem. He grew tense, his brow furrowed, and he wished he could disappear completely. "I don't want to get you in trouble at your job," he said, knowing the woman was still outside. And yet -- the options she gave him were viable. "If you have anything you need done in the backroom - I can peel apples, mind the ovens -- at least until she goes away."
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IF HE CONTINUED TO ADDRESS HER casually with the affectionate pet name, she was sure she would get used to it. Just not yet. Her teeth gnawed absently on her bottom lip as she tried to keep the smiles to a minimum.
❝ Coffee! Of course, ❞ she yipped, turning her back to him. Although, with her senses, not being able to see him was hardly a helpful enough distraction. The way the word 'kind' rolled off his tongue she was sure that facing away from him only heightened her other senses, and it wasn't a helpful thing. ❝ Just drip or something a little fancier? ❞ She grabbed a mug just for something to do with her hands.
Run in her family... Now, there was a question. She faltered a little, the smile slowly slipping into something a little more forced. ❝ Oh. Uh, I don't think so. My mom was never much of a homesteader and uh, well, I guess I don't really know anything about my dad. ❞ He could be alive or dead, she wouldn't really know either way.
She laughed. Lost of people found Hexmore to be tedious. But it was the most stable home she'd ever had, even 50 years after her death. She was rather fond of it. ❝ My adoptive family is from here or something. I've been here long enough that I'm happy to call it home & hopeful others would call me local. But I'm not offended, so don't worry about your feet. ❞ She giggled, finding herself all too funny.
Ashed blinked, when Autumn laughed. At first assuming she was laughing at him, but then realizing she was just...amused? By Ashed? He was not exactly known for his wit and charm, certainly not for making random, pretty shopgirls-cum-bakers amused. It threw him off, but not entirely in a bad way.
"Back end, right," Ashed thought about being witty with that, some playful turn of phrase to hear Autumn giggle again; but all he could drum up was crassness. The last thing he wanted was to offend Autumn. So he swallowed those words and instead asked, "Could I also get a cup of coffee, love? I've got a proper head on me. I'm hoping the old cure for a hangover is still the same - caffeine and buttery goods."
She wanted to give him the bun for free, and Ashed nodded in acceptance. That American generousity he'd allow, but he'd just leave a big tip for her anyway. "Aren't you kind..." he said gratefully, watching her bustling behind the counter.
Autumn led him on a merry tale of her experience, of lack thereof. A talent more than anything. "So you just...love baking. It's sort of a passion for you?" Ashed gandered, mulling this over. "Did it run in the family?" He quirked another amused smile at her adorably mixing up 'superstitious' with 'serendipitous'. If only she knew, Ashed smugly thought. (If only he knew what she knew.)
"Serendipitous isn't exactly the word I'd used either, for ending up in Hexmore. Unless you're also a local, and I've gone and stuck my foot in my mouth."
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HEXMORE WAS FOUNDED BY WITCHES, BUT IS NOW HOME TO, HENRY “HAL” OSBORNE (MATTHEW GOODE). HE IS A 330 OLD, VAMPIRE. BORN IN BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS, THEY HAVE RESIDED IN HEXMORE FOR 330 YEARS ON AND OFF, WHERE THEY WORK AS A FORTUNE TELLER/PSYCHOLOGIST. THEY CONSIDER THEMSELVES TO BE AFFILIATED WITH THE ALCOTT FAMILY AND THE DISAPPEARANCE OF HAZEL MORA HAS LEFT THEM TRYING TO MAKE SENSE OF THEIR DREAMS.
QUICK FACTS.
full name: henry wallace osborne
nicknames: hal, hank
age: three hundred and thirty-three ( forty-one )
birthday: november 7th
orientation: bisexual
family: joshua osborne† — father; sarah osborne† — paternal aunt; alice osborne† — mother; clarissa osborne† — wife; sylvie osborne† — daughter
marital status: single ( widower??? )
faceclaim: matthew goode
hair: blue-black
eyes: blue-grey
traits: obsessive, spacey, brooding, confident, intellectual, empathetic, haunted, paternal
inspirations: stefan salvatore, matthew clairmont, romeo montague; Aleksander Morozova, barnabus collins, the doctor, patrick jane
QUICK BACKGROUND.
Born in a time of fear and mysticism, Henry was not well welcomed in his family. Joshua Osborne didn't love his wife and he didn't believe his son was his own. Not long after Henry could speak did he start telling his mother about the things he saw in his dreams. She did her best to protect him from his father's wrath even through this.
However, time was not on Henry's side. After news of Salem reached Boston, even his own mother became fearful of him. Though young, Henry understood his position enough to run. He peddled fortunes and did what he could to get around, trying mainly to stay alive.
Finally, he had a dream of a place where he was not only safe, but welcomed. Henry moved to Hexmore and discovered that life could be more than surviving. He married his wife, Clarissa and he was happy. Everything seemed perfect until he told the wrong fortune.
He angered a vampire with a fortune that didn't come to pass and it cost him everything. He thought it was just his life they'd take. He wasn't ready to die, but he wouldn't have paid the price to live if only he'd known. He's grateful to the Alcotts. They saved him and gave him an extra decade, to see his daughter grow and get married. But the secret of his transformation eats away at him.
After returning from the brink of death, Henry was born with an unquenchable thirst. It caused him to take the life of his wife and he was only able to come to his senses upon seeing his daughter.
Since, his guilt and his beholden vampirism draw him to and fro Hexmore like the shipwreck he is.
Every hundred years or so he dreams and finds a woman—and be it delusion or magic in the world, he believes her to always be the reincarnation of Clarissa. His guilt always keeps him from turning her but it always ends in tragedy for him.
Now, he's dreamed of Hexmore once more and has determined its time to return, but he's more nervous than ever before. He doesn't understand what his dreams mean beyond the timing of his return.
WANTED CONNECTIONS.
give me descendants of his family, of family's that she's known, his WIFE'S FAMILY
im going to eventually make a wc for his newest obsession and delulu reincarnation of his wife
I would love a little witch he can mentor
anyone want a Doctor to talk to???
also give him some vampire pals
a vamp struggling with control ( other than autumn lmao ) and he will be Teacher
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SCHITT’S CREEK (2015-2020)
1.01 THE CUP RUNNETH OVER
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A SMILE, A MORE GENUINE SMILE THAN the customer service one she'd had on moments ago, spread across Autumn's face. She liked Teddy. They weren't particularly close or anything, but she'd been around town as long as she had and she liked having a few people who were vampires just like her—other than her family, of course.
❝ No jelly—❞ she winked ❝ filled anything today. But I do kind of like the idea. Maybe I can make a batch at home some time and bring them to you? ❞ A conversation between two entirely different people might have made this flirtatious, but even if Autumn admitted to herself that Teddy was one of her many one-sided crushes, she would never have the courage to actually flirt.
❝ That sounds somewhat awful. I heard a ringing before you entered. Phone call? ❞ She bit down on her lip. ❝ You could hide in the washroom and I could try to get her to go away if she comes in? ❞ She nibbled passively at her bottom lip between sentences. ❝ Or I could sneak you into the back and then if she asks where you went I could say I never even saw you come in? Then we can sneak you out later and figure out a way to get her to stop bothering you so much. We should really keep you safe if she's so aggressive. ❞ True concern covered Autumn's face, also completely unaware of the true intentions behind the other woman's actions.
It wasn't only that he sold antiques, but he often was called upon to restore them. He had worked hard on a particularly annoying potato peeler for the last few days, and now that it was completed and successfully given back to the homestead blogger -- he was headed to the bakery. Why? He didn't need to eat. Still, who didn't like a fluffy bit of puff pastry or a slice of cake? All right, he didn't like either - not since he learned that flour could have ground up bugs in it. Blood he could stomach (literally) but he could not tolerate the idea of bugs.
"The woman --" he half-turned behind him, waiting to see if the homestead blogger had followed him. She was peering into the bakery and he turned back around. "Recommend a buttered muffin."
(it was not at all what she recommended, but the vampire didn't understand the overt flirtation just like he hadn't noticed the signs of her flirtation.)
"I don't care for muffins, buttered or otherwise - unless you have muffins with blood-filled middles, like a jelly donut." He had to get creative when it came to eating around humans. He could only manage a blue steak every so often. "Is she gone yet? She keeps asking me to visit her house, and won't take no for an answer. I was hoping that if I had a muffin, she'd see that I was trying something she recommended, would be happy, and would then leave me alone. Preferably forever."
#two vampire dumb dumbs walk into a bar#✧.*･ﾟ𝔞. 𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔱𝔱𝔢 — interactions. ❞#✧.*･ﾟ𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔲𝔪𝔫 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 — theodore. ❞
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AUTUMN COULDN'T HELP THE LAUGH that tumbled from her lips. Something about the question was so simple and so suspicious, she couldn't help but find it funny. ❝ Yeah, the owners. There's another couple people that do the work up front. ❞ She gestured behind her shoulder then down again. ❝ I'm more... back end. ❞ Another chuckle, softer this time.
If colour could still fill her cheeks she was sure that she would've been turned into a beet. She could tell the pet name was universal, but something about it made her feel so young & shy. She was still inexperienced, much like her youthful appearance would make it seem despite her true age. No one had called her much other than her own name. It made her chest fizzle & pop the way it often did when someone attractive was nice to her. ❝ Oh! Oh gosh, no, I mean, um... It's fine! ❞ Her voice peaked a little as she finished tripping over her worlds.
Pop. Sparkle. Gosh, he was a charmer. Or was she just sort of pathetic? Autumn tried not to think about it. ❝ Well, how about this then. For your rough night, a pumpkin bun on the house and I'll get you the focaccia right away. ❞ She immediately moved to the cabinet, grabbing tongs.
❝ Trained? ❞ she squeaked. ❝ Oh wow, um... I didn't really... ❞ She gnawed on her lip. That's what people were supposed to do before they got jobs these days. Train. Work toward a goal. ❝ I'm not that fancy or anything. I was just baking as a hobby and then they needed someone here... it was all very superstitious... wait, no—❞ gosh, she had to try to use a big word just then. ❝ Serendipitous! ❞ She would've been passed beet by now. A whole grove of tomatoes. She couldn't meet his eyes as she passed the bread over the counter. ❝ Silly, Autumn. ❞ She muttered under her breath, barely keeping from melting into an embarrassed puddle on the floor.
"They?" Ashed repeated, using his curiousity to stave this strange hangover. "The owners of this shop hiring you, you mean? Or..." Was Autumn just here volunteering her time? Maybe Ashed wasn't understanding; in his current state, he didn't feel like he could comprehend much. Autumn was irrepressibly pleasant, and in truth that was what Ashed wanted right now.
Autumn herself seemed unsure, and Ashed realized how paranoid his question was. Suspicion of sewn into his bones: the Hunter way. And Hexmore revealed supernatural occurrences in ways Ashed was ill-prepared for, despite his life's mission. But Autumn seemed...normal. And here he was, demanding weird justifications of random knowledge. He gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, love. I've...I'm a little off this morning, yeah. Late night." A near-death experience. No biggie.
He went to the glass counter, to inspect the focaccia. It looked fluffy and delicious, made Ashed feel nauseated whilst his mouth watered at the same time. "Pumpkin buns..." Very American-sounding. Americans loved pumpkin spice everything. "Right. Well, if it's fresh out of the oven, I'm happy to wait. I might take some focaccia for later, though. Cheers, love."
Ashed bundled himself tighter, satisfied with his choice and with Autumn herself. She was a sweet thing, comforting in her enthusiasm for her craft. "Where'd you train, Autumn? No offense, but you seem young to run a bakery alone." If she was this talented, what the hell was she doing in Hexmore and not in some posh city bakery?
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FRANCESCA HANDS IMMEDIATELY WENT UP in surrender, palms facing out. ❝ Fair enough. ❞ She replied smoothly. She wasn't looking for a fight. She dropped her hands to her side. ❝ I was just checking in on someone and I walked by. ❞ Francesca's head bobbed toward the direction the girl had left. ❝ I wanted to see if she was okay. ❞ Even though there was no part of Fran that felt like she was ready for parenthood, she still like seeing the little ones around town. She wanted them safe. ❝ And what happened. ❞ She gave a half smile. ❝ Morbid curiosity, I guess. ❞
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑: open (@hexstarters)
𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: hexmore general
❛ YOU WERE SO BRAVE, MY DARLING, ❜ Anastasia smoothed the girl's hair back, her tearstained cheeks finally drawn up in a smile as she followed her mother from the room. The smell of blood still hung in the air, a vestige of the chaos that had first befallen the exam room. Melanie's scrape had appeared worse than it really was, a mishap with the sharp end of a knife bringing her and her frantic mother into Anastasia's waiting room. Five stitches and she was as good as new.
As she threw away the soiled gauze, the coppery odor rested as little more than a dull ache in her throat. It was paired with something else, she noted then, a presence lingering in the doorway. ❛ It’s rude to linger. Especially, in doorways. ❜
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HER EYES ROLLED INVOLUNTARILY, SHE couldn't care less about societal beauty standards and the other woman even mentioning it made her all the unimpressed. ❝ Right, now you are. After walking in and judging the place, acting like you know everything from a single glance. ❞ She'd met the type. Heck, there were plenty already living here.
❝ Look, ❞ Francesca smiled, all business, ❝ I don't know what brought you here or what it is you're trying to do. I just wanted to tell you that if you're not going to keep your shitty opinions to yourself, be prepared to deal with the locals. Some of them are fiercely loyal. ❞ It was ironic that Francesca was the one practically defending the town when she herself had once abandoned it. ❝ If you've got no issues, I've got no issues. ❞ She raised her open palms, leaning back from the bar.
Mari was far from perfect, she was almost 600 years old. She was a lot of things but even she was not as judgmental as this mortal. And that said more about the girl in front of her than it did her.
"Hold onto your anger, sweetheart. It will give you wrinkles." She smiled, turning to the bar to order a drink. Mari was the first to admit she could be a bitch but right now, she was simply sat in a bar. The other girl was making an issue that wasn't there. "I am sitting and getting a drink."
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AN APATHETIC PARTY GIRL STRANGER was the opposite of what Hexmore needed right now. They needed safety & stability. The opposite oozed from the presence of the other. Even when Francesca had gone off the rails she'd been more compassionate than the woman in front of her.
❝ Sorry if I'm one to actually take what people say at face value. Liars are a slow venom, I'd rather get it out of the way quick. ❞ Francesca brusque attitude anywhere other than the library was what got her the limited number of friends she had. ❝ Comforting. If it wasn't to cause trouble, ❞ she stool and walked over to the bar, ❝ then what exactly brought you to our little town? ❞
Mari had lived for over half a millennium, she had very little attachments and the mortal world held little interest to her. She had no idea why Alden found himself coming back to these places. The mortals seemed to get themselves into stupid situations.
She hadn't been talking to anyone in particular and gave a bored laugh as the girl spoke up. "You took that way too serious, sweetheart." She rolled her eyes, having no interest in the girl's reaction. "Oh, I can be a danger. But I'm not going to waste my time causing trouble here."
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