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envogue

Rotten and Delicious
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
  1. Not accepting invites at this time
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per day
  2. 1-3 posts per day
  3. One post per day
  4. 1-3 posts per week
  5. One post per week
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
  3. Prestige
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Female
  2. Nonbinary
  3. Primarily Prefer Female
Genres
Fantasy, Horror, Romance, Yaoi, Magical Girl, Supernatural, Victorian Goth, Steam Punk

R o s e b u r n

Discord | Char Index
OOC
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"Things are about to change..."




  • "Hazel was only the beginning..."
    In this roleplay, we will follow the lives of our supernatural and human characters as they attempt to go on about their daily lives after Hazel Pearson's death. The witches were always a tightly knit community, but for a long time they dealt with the vampires and werewolves positively. Many made friends with the others, aiding each other by sharing their strengths where others were weak.


    After Hazel is murdered, a dark cloud seems to form over the supernatural community, and no one knows who to trust anymore. One thing is for certain, only another supernatural could've taken Hazel out. She was a formidable witch, a mentor to many young witches, and was kind to all. Her death shocked not only the supernaturals, but the humans as well. The last known murder was over a ten years ago and the killer was caught red handed within days. But the detectives have no leads, and not a clue about where to start. Naturally her peers begin to look into the murder, pulling others into the madness along the way. Many vampires and werewolves hope to clear their name from the witches's list of suspects, and find themselves down an even darker rabbit hole than they imagined.

    We will delve into a town of secrets, lies, and conspiracy, as the characters try to unravel the gruesome murder that took place on December 29, 2017.


  • Vampires: Immortal, sensitive to sunlight. Needs human blood to sustain themselves. Has the ability to glide, heals quickly. Can only be killed by stakes, decapitation, werewolf bite and intense UV exposure.. Change involves being bitten by a vampire and drinking their blood, the human body has to die in order to change, but the change isn’t guaranteed.


    Werewolves: Immortal, shifts uncontrollably on the full moon. The more they fight their shift, the more feral they are in the beast form. Weak to wolfsbane and silver, sensitive to high pitched noises and high voltage electricity. Can shift whenever they like into a bipedal wolf beast. Have their consciousness when shifted, but it’s weakened on the full moon. Can be killed by large doses of wolfsbane, decapitation, vampire venom and silver poisoning. Can change humans with a bite, but only an alpha. A bite from a non alpha will result in death

    Witches: Not immortal, able to use magical powers. As magical powers are used more often, the more toll it has on its user, pulling away from their overall stamina. Magical spells take time to invoke, so they are weak against fast and immediate attacks. Witches can be killed by any normal means of killing (buckets of water don't happen to work here, sorry). Witches can use spells whenever they like, but the cost that comes to themselves is something they really need to watch out for. Witches are essentially normal humans with some magicky magic.


  • 1. Obviously all Iwaku rules apply here. I do consider this an adult roleplay, because it will explore darker themes, such as murder and sacrifice. All main characters will be between the ages of 16-18, at least in appearance.

    2. I'm not going to tell you to do anything crazy, but GMs word is law. Please respect that, and your fellow roleplayers! I love drama, but it needs to stay IC. No bickering, no arguing. If you have an issue, come to me and I will do my best to solve it.

    3. To be apart of this roleplay and to continue participating, you must post at the very least once a week. Failure to do so may result in your removal in the roleplay. What happens to your character is left to the GMs. If you're going to be away, please just let me know, so that I can make plans for your characters absence. If you need to drop, lemme know! I might even let you come back if you want.

    4. All posts need to be at at least two full sized paragraphs, with minimal typos. Nobody is perfect, obv. So I won't hound you about it, unless there are a lot of typos often.

    5. No Mary Sues or Gary Stues. Be reasonable with your character creation, and be sensible when writing their strengths, abilities, and weaknesses.

    6. You are encouraged and expected to be able to help move your own individual stories along, as well as contribute to the plot in small or big ways.

    7. There will be mature themes, but there will be no sexin' in the IC thread...or OOC thread. If two redstars or bluestars want to take it to the PMs I have no issue with that, but please fade to black otherwise, before it gets too steamy.

    8. Be consistent. Consistent with your characters personality, and with your posting! Just be consistent. :)


  • Name:

    Birthday: (It just seems easier than asking the age of every species separately. So, how long has your OC been alive...er, undead? All main characters will be between the ages of 16-18, for now, except vampires. Vampires, no older than 200, and the older they are, the less time they've spent in Roseburn.)

    Species: (Human, Vampire, Werewolf, Witch)

    Height:

    Weight:

    Grade: (10-12 Year 2-4)

    Occupation: (If applicable)

    Personality: (Three sentences minimum giving a basic overview of your character's personality.)

    Positive Traits:
    (Top three personality traits that your OC will exhibit the most.)


    Negative Traits:
    (Top four traits that your OC shows during negative situations.)


    Strengths:
    (Can be physical or mental.)


    Weaknesses:
    (Can be physical or mental. Must have at least three, not relating to your species.)


    Skills:
    (A maximum of five skills that your OC has regardless of species. Please be specific!)


    Gift:
    (Applicable to Witches, Werewolves, and Vampires only. Vampires may choose between speed, strength, charm, and aura(hypnosis), meaning they're better than average in that category. Werewolves will choose between, control, speed, strength, stamina, and intelligence. Witches will place their affinity/element here. Witches are expected to elaborate on their gift. One max.)


    Gift Description:
    (Witches are expected to elaborate on their gifts, as well as listing strengths and weaknesses relating to their gift. Vampires and Werewolves, please explain how they fare in categories other than the gift you've chosen for them.)


    Attitude:
    (Can just put like or dislike.)
    Humans:


    Werewolves:

    Vampires:

    Witches:

    Bio:
    (At least five sentences discussing their life before, or after their stay in Roseburn. Can also discuss present time!)


    Sample post:
    (Can be anything. Must be at least two paragraphs.)


    Relationships:
    (Optional)


    Extra Info:
    (Optional)

 
Roseburn
A memorial service


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Hibiscus was passing by the kitchen, thinking only of her music when she saw her mother and father having some heated discussion near the black top island counter. Their attention shifted toward their daughter as the dark wood creaked underneath Hibiscus' foot. She looked up like a frightened mouse, her parents' expression not unlike her own as they stared at each other. The awkward silence was too much to bear.

"Is everything okay?" Hibiscus asked, as she turned in the doorway to face her parents.

There seemed to be some hesitance on her mother's face, and she looked to her husband for only a moment. He gave her a knowing look, a strange sadness in his eyes when he turned to Hibiscus. The three paused, and Hibiscus didn't know what to think. She was passing all of her classes and had finally started to take her mother's lessons seriously, so they had to be upset about something else.

"Honey, why don't you come sit down with us at the table?" Shaiya said gently, her tensed shoulders eased as she walked over to their daughter.

Hibiscus still couldn't believe what her mother told her that night. Even though she knew it was true, the thought of someone hurting Hazel just didn't make sense. Who would do such a thing? Hibiscus wondered, as she stared out her bedroom window. She had a near perfect view into the Pearson's backyard from her bedroom, though she never found herself caring enough before to spy on them.

There was a knock on the door suddenly, the door knob turning not long after. Shaiya poked her head in the room, looking around a bit before her gaze settles on her daughter. An odd wave of relief washes over her when she sees Hibiscus, and Shaiya finishes opening the door and steps inside.

"Your father and I are heading next door now to help Thyme set up for the memorial this evening." Shaiya begins, stopping to stand beside Hibiscus. "Don't forget it starts at 5:30." She says, placing her hands on her daughter's shoulders and leaning down to kiss her on the forehead. "And remember, this is a celebration of Hazel's life."

"Mom, wait..." Hibiscus stops Shaiya as she's leaving the bedroom, the woman's curiosity worn on her face. "Is it cold outside?" Hibiscus asks her mother awkwardly, as if she'd just made that question up.

"No, I think it's only 12 out right now." Shaiya replied thoughtfully. "The cold never seemed to bother you before, honey. Are you feeling well?"

"Yes, mom. I was just wondering, that's all." Hibiscus answers with a half-hearted smile. "I'll see you guys soon. Love you."

Shaiya eyes her daughter suspiciously for a second, but Hibiscus' response seems to quell any worries. She smiles softly at Hibiscus before continuing on her way out. After a minute or so, she hears her mother and father announcing their departure from the first floor, and their old wooden door slamming shut.

Her senses feel heightened at being left alone. After all, the killer was still out there, and Hibiscus was a young witch just like Hazel. Hibiscus took a deep breath and walked over to shut and lock her bedroom door. There was a little under an hour to get ready and meet her parents next door at the Pearsons, but Hibiscus planned to head over sooner rather than later.


5:25 p.m.

Hibiscus took only half an hour getting ready, and her ensemble was pretty basic, at least in her eyes. She wore a deep purple tunic dress with gold and turquoise embellishments. It was loose fitting and flowed freely with each step that she took down the sidewalk towards The Pearsons house. Unlike most, Hibiscus didn't get much use out of coats and jackets. She was always a lot warmer than her peers, something she attributes to her gift. She dressed for fall in the winter, and summer in spring. The weather had warmed up significantly over the last few days though, and others wouldn't find it so strange to see her dressed so brightly for this specific event.

The Pearsons made it clear that this wasn't a funeral, or a memorial for people to show up and weep in dark, brooding colors. They wanted to celebrate Hazel's short life and accomplishments by giving everyone a chance to say goodbye to her, and anyone that knew Hazel would know that was what she would want. Hazel was apparently fond of vibrant, rich colors and had even told her mother that she hoped everyone would smile and laugh at her funeral.

Something tells me she didn't think it would end like this.
Hibiscus thought to herself as she walked down the long driveway and towards the open gates leading into the backyard.
The music grew louder and the sounds of voices chattering raised from their whisper as she passed the massive house and entered the seemingly endless backyard. Everything was decorated with tasteful white decorations, paper ornaments and sheer fabric that danced against the breeze.

There was a large portrait of Hazel surrounded by lit candles and gifts from other visitors, as well as an opening to a hedge maze. Hibiscus eyed the portrait, guilt striking her gut as she stares into the eyes of the portrait. Hibiscus approaches slowly, looking up with a subtle frown.

For ten years we've been neighbors, and I'm sorry I never took the time to be your friend.
 
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She was the kind of girl who everyone knew. Even if you didn't know her, you know of her. Had passed her in the hallway, seen her bright smile. Or saw her rushing to the aid of another student during one spectacle or another. And the school would never be quite as lively without her. Even in the little time at the school Jade has spent, she had met Hazel. Not that they were friends or anything. But Jade at least knew of her.

As she looked around, Jade wondered who knew her. Who really knew her. How many of the students could say they were friends with Hazel. Her family, her friends, were here. But so too were a lot of other people. Jade shuffled forward to the portrait and stared the picture of the dead girl. She was so young. A life cut short far too early. What sort of person could the life of a young girl? The candled light flickered slightly.

Once she had paid her respects, Jade sought the quiet sanctuary that she was sure the hedge maze may offer. Once in the maze she slipped off the small heeled shoes, which her mother had insisted she wear. Claiming that it was disrespectful to not dress appropriately for the memorial. At least her mother had not had her wear all black. The grass felt cool against her bare feet. Slowly she walked into the maze and found herself a quite corner to sit in. Not caring that she may get grass stains on her black leggings or her best dress. She had never liked funerals.

Jade laid back in the grass and looked up at the sky above. It was warm enough outside and the weather was good. Just a few pale white clouds in the blue sky. Her little patch of shade in the corner keeping her contently cool, she closed her eyes and listened to the world. Voices, so many voices. In the garden, outside of the maze, were people gathering to talk and pay their respects. Jade remembered people paying their respects to her parents. But their respect didn't bring them back.

"Figured I would find you hiding alone," said the all too familiar voice of her cousin, Nathan. "If our parents find you out here, they'll get mad." Our parents. Ugh. "And they're already mad enough at you for breaking the bathroom mirror."

"You broke the bathroom mirror," she muttered under her breath. "Just leave me alone."

Nathan stood there, for a moment, looking at her laying in the grass. She could almost think he was cute if he wasn't her cousin. And if he wasn't such an asshole. Before shaking his head and leaving her alone. Why did he always have to bother her when she wanted to be alone? Every time she needed a safe sanctuary, Nathan came knocking. And never to help or advise or console. Just to waste her time or remind her of how crappy she should be feeling. It's not like she needed his help to hate herself.

After a small while, Jade pushed herself up onto her side and rummaged through the tiny bag in search of her phone. Upon checking it she saw that she had no new messages or missed call. Damn. She could really use a distraction right now. So he opened up her contacts and scrolled through the short list. Before selecting Juniper. She began typing out a text message.

[Hey.

Jade here.
Got some time to hang out at the book store later? Could really use a friend about now.

PS: Tell August to not bother dragging his sarcastic ass alone....]


And pressed send.

Jade put her phone to the side and rolled back into the grass. Maybe she should try to go back out there and talk to people, actually pay her respects properly... A gentle breeze, funneled by the rows of hedges, pushed a few locks of long blonde hair into her face. Jade was quick to push them back out of the way again. Fine. She would make an attempt, at least, if not for the girl then for her family. She knew all too well how Hazel's family was feeling.
 
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Roseburn--> Memorial Service
@Sailor Moon

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Winter usually wasn't the best time to be spending outside, but the weather had been getting a bit warmer the past few days. So that meant more time in the forest. Sieg was resting at the trunk of a large birch tree, her eyes shut as she listened to the breeze rustle the leaves over her head and the faint sounds of waves crashing on the shore a mile or so away. The sun was being blocked by a thin blanket of gray clouds, but the girl couldn't let a nice day like this go ignored, especially a Saturday. As she was basking in the glory of nature, she heard, and felt, footsteps crunching over fallen brush as someone approached her.

"It's almost five thirty." Sieg sighed before slowly opening her eyes and glancing up at an elderly man, her grandfather and her pack leader. "Shouldn't you be on your way? You're going to be late to pay your respects to the Pearson girl."

"Why do I have to be there right when it starts?" Sieg shrugged as she closed her eyes again and nestled back against the tree. "Besides, the longer I spend out here, the more I smell of pine trees instead of that smell of my natural scent." Her blue eyes moved back to her grandfather and she grinned. "Wouldn't want any vamps picking that up, right?"

"There aren't any vampires around here, Siegrid, that's why we moved to this city." Her grandfather brought his hand up to his forehead and sighed. "Didn't you know Hazel Pearson? Why wouldn't you want to show up promptly like a responsible adult."

"They said it was going on all day." Sieg sat up and turned a bit so she was facing her grandfather. "And Hazel would expect me to show up late. She knew I showed up when I wanted unless it was super important."

"Is her celebration not," Her grandfather made air quotes and Sieg rolled her eyes. "Super important?"

"Aren't you worried that she was murdered?" Sieg asked as she narrowed her eyes a bit and her grandfather's posture stiffened. "I thought you'd be far more preoccupied with that instead of when I get to the celebration." The young wolf sighed again before standing and stretching her arms over her head. "But since you won't leave me alone until I go," She walked past him and lifted an eyebrow. "I'll go. But don't expect me to stay forever. I only hung out with Hazel at school really and met her parents one time when I was a freshman."

"Just get going, Siegrid." He shook his head and closed his eyes again before giving her a light push between her shoulder blades. "Great Lycaon, How did I get cursed with such a stubborn grand daughter?"

"You mean, 'thank you for gifting me such an outstanding heir.'" Siegrid chuckled as she folded her hands behind her head and shrugged. "You know I'm your favorite. That's why you came to find me, right?" Her grandfather didn't answer and that just made Sieg laugh. "Bye, Grand Dad."

Usually going out in public meant that Sieg would care a bit more about what she was wearing. But since her clothes already smelled like pine trees and sea air, she didn't see the point. It's not like she dressed like a bum, but she was only wearing some dark wash jeans and a pale blue, short sleeved button-up shirt. Though the Pearsons had said they wanted people to wear something colorful, or at least not black.

It was a short walk back to her house where her black SUV, along with her grandfather's bright red sports car, sat in the driveway. Sieg smirked before jogging up the stairs to the front door and reaching to the key hooks, grabbing the key fob to the flashy vehicle. As she pushed the button to unlock the car, her grandfather was nearing the house. She glanced at him and offered a toothy grin.

"I hope you don't mind if I take your car!" Before he could say anything, she was in the car and starting the engine. It roared loudly and Sieg smirked before slamming her foot on the gas, ripping out of the driveway. The Pearsons didn't live too far from Sieg, a few miles at the most though she'd never been there before.

It didn't take her long to get there since she was speeding down the empty street, but as she saw the Pearson's house come into view on the horizon, she slowed the car, quieting the rumble as she parked on the side of the road. She didn't want to pull into the driveway and run the risk of getting boxed in. Sieg exited the car, hitting the button to lock the sports car and it beeped to signal that it was secure. She shoved the fob into her pocket, feeling the small object she had brought to offer the family.

Sieg hadn't been incredibly close with Hazel, but she had always been kind to her so she had no reason not to reciprocate. The driveway, as well as part of the front yard was already filling with cars and Sieg was glad she had parked on the road. Music could be heard coming from the backyard and as she neared the large house of the Pearsons, she paused for a moment before entering. When she did, there was a clear path to the backyard through the house to where the festivities seemed to be taking place.

As Sieg left the house once more, she stopped by the backdoor and let her eyes wander the large yard. The decorations were everywhere and all the people there seemed to be enjoying themselves. Blue eyes finally settled on the small shrine around Hazel's image and she walked over to it. There were a plethora of gifts scattered around the portrait and Sieg reached into her pocket, retrieving the small wooden figure of a wolf with the Nordic rune of protection carved into its back.

"I suppose I should've given this to you when you were alive." Sieg muttered as she looked up at the image of Hazel. "Though I hope it can offer something to you in the afterlife." The girl tilted her head a bit and shoved her hands in her pockets. She hadn't heard too much about Hazel's death, other than it was a murder, but other than that, not many details were known. Sieg bowed her head a bit to the portrait before turning away from it. Looking at it made her feel uneasy.

She inhaled a bit through her nose and took in the mouthwatering scents of the food that was being offered to the guests. Amongst the scent of food, Sieg also caught a familiar scent and it caused her eyes to scan through the people until she found the source of the smell. The wolf hummed softly to herself before making her way over to the shorter girl dressed in purple. Hibiscus Arora always smelled like she spent most of her life around a campfire. It wasn't offending, but she just didn't seem like the type of girl to enjoy the outdoors that much.

As Sieg sidled up to the girl, she glanced down and raised her eyebrows a bit with a smirk. "Good evening, Miss Arora." She greeted, her hands still in her pockets. "I guess I should feel a bit honored to ever see you outside of school. Though I wish it were a different situation." She chuckled a bit before removing a hand and rubbing the back of her neck. "A situation with less people, at least."
 
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Pencil to paper, Claire was on her bed drawing when she heard a soft knock on her door. Lost in her world she hadn't even heard the person approaching and the knock made her jump. Looking over at her door she set down her sketchbook and pencil. "Come in." Her mother opened the door and stuck her head in. "I have some bad news." The young blonde raised an eyebrow at her mother and was confused. Fully opening the door Beatrix stepped inside as she moved to sit on the edge of her daughter's bed.

"You know your schoolmate Hazel?" The woman started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hazel was known throughout the town, even if you weren't her friend you had to have met her once. Her memorial was that night and the Rose family would be paying their respects to the Pearson family and the late Hazel. Claire still couldn't wrap her head around the situation. Someone had murdered her schoolmate. It wasn't just some natural occurrence but a crime. The last words she had heard from Hazel played over and over in her head since the night her mother told her about the girl's death.

As she got ready for the memorial she found herself staring in the mirror of her room. Tightening her hand into a fist she looked away as a few tears fell. Taking a deep breath Claire finished getting ready and joined her family in the car. They lived several miles from the Pearson family so it would be a bit of a drive. During the way there Claire stared out the window, face void of anything like always. Watching the tree's pass by she could only imagine what had gone on that night, how horrible it must have been for Hazel.

Approaching the Pearson's house, Celeste parked in an available space and they got out of the car. Walking slowly Claire trailed behind her family, which was her father, mother and older sister June. The slight breeze rustled her golden hair and she moved it out of her face. Her clothes were as the Pearson's had asked, bright colors. She wore a loose mint green dress that cut off just below her knees. On her waist she wore a light yellow belt made of elastic fabric so it fit snug around her body. Her heeled boot's were white with yellow laces up the side, which took her a bit to find, went halfway up towards her knee. Lastly she wore a white denim jacket but left it open.

Her style was always different and changing. Claire never could decide on what she liked. Some days she wore more feminine clothing, other days more masculine or androgynous. Making her way into the home she followed her mother out to the backyard. Scouting out the area she noticed quite a bit of people were here, instantly she wanted to sink back into the corner. Though she took a breath and moved to the portrait. Claire looked down at the gifts and rustled through her jacket pocket.

Pulling out a folded piece of paper she unfolded it and set it down under another gift so the wind wouldn't cast it away. On the paper she drew a detailed portrait of Hazel and herself together smiling, as if they could have been friends if she tried harder. On the back she wrote a letter of thanks to her and wished the two could have been friends and wished her peace. Looking over she could smell the familiar scent of pine and campfire. Her eyes saw Siegrid and Hibiscus, two of her other schoolmates. Though she avoided eye contact and looked for a place to stay away from attention. Her own scent smelled of lavender and rose.

Claire found herself inside the hedge maze, surely no one else would think of this. That was until she turned a corner and saw Jade, another schoolmate. Standing there she just looked at the other for a moment before she walked past. She caught the scent of perfume, Orange Blossom. Instead of trying to find another place to hide she went further into the maze. Stumbling upon a small bench and patch of flowers she decided she would sit here and wait until her parents were ready to leave. "Should of brought my sketchbook." She grumbled softly.
 
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"I really don't want to be there."
Kiril sighed as he took a sip of the whiskey in his glass, savoring the taste "To Hazel, I suppose." he rose the glass a little bit higher.
"We need to be seen there." Vladimir said dryly, his own glass empty in front of him
"Of course." Kiril agreed "But I just can't help but feel like this is our fault. I'll feel too anxious."
"That's why God bestowed the great amber liquid on mankind, dear boy." Lav raised his own glass high over his head "To that poor girl. May she rest in peace." Kiril looked at him as they both drank in silence. Lav's wrinkled burrow didn't show a deepening of his usual, if there even was one. His grandfather's voice had sounded genuinely cheerful. Kiril had always marveled at how the old man managed to keep this town and his family together with this cheerful, carefree attitude. Though the biggest mystery was how both of Lav's male descendants had ended up so stern and serious in spite of Lav's best efforts.
"Not our fault." Vladimir spoke through gritted teeth, ignoring his father's gesture "Mine."

None of them said anything for sometime, until Lana entered the study, eyeing the men with critically.
"Why the long faces, everyone? You don't plan on showing up wearing those somber expressions and spoil everyone's celebration, do you?"
"Of course not, honey." Vladimir smiled and rose up from his seat. "Let's go."
Celebration... Kiril almost snorted angrily. How much more fake and reckless could those witches get? Their daughter was dead. No, not dead, murdered. Brutally at that. He doubted anyone in town could be genuinely cheerful at that event, much less Hazel's parents. Even more so, having a celebration while the killer was loose and free to act again was simply preposterous. Even going to school seemed ridiculous at a time where everyone ought to be focusing on finding the perpetrator. Before all the monsters start pointing fingers and murdering each other. His father had vehemently shut down his suggestion of using some of the werewolves in the investigation. Vladimir was right, of course, in times like this it was important that the mayor's office appear completely unbiased and neutral. Colluding with any species, no matter how pertinent that would be to the overall investigation, would only serve to exacerbate any concerns their community leaders might have. Of course, Vladimir had said nothing about him trying to procure such assistance on his own time, as a private citizen.




The black Mercedes contrasted heavily with the colorful clothing the entire family wore as they parked in front of Hazel's family's house. They all walked away in silence with Kiril and Vladimir trying to at least appear less stiff and gloomy. Navigating through the maze of people wasn't the easiest thing in the world, considering there were at least eight people trying to talk to Vladimir at a time and a few more calling to Lav. Vampires, to be precise. Kiril looked surprised at his grandfather as the latter excused himself to the bloodsucker patriarch in much the same way his father had "I'm sorry, we need to pay our respects first. I'll be with you in a bit." Was it me, or is he actually scowling? Kiril wondered as his grandfather's cheerful demeanor was suddenly replaced by cold politeness.

Meeting Hazel's parents turned out less awkward than he'd expected. Vladimir wisely stood back and allowed Lana to do the talking. His mother, utterly oblivious as she was, was completely in her element and she managed to level with both of Hazel's parents, smiling and chatting them up pleasantly with a genuine interest in the conversation. She got so carried away, in fact, that Hazel's own mother had to intervene to address Vladimir by thanking him for taking time out of his schedule to attend the celebration.
"Of course." He nodded stiffly, looking silly with his bright blue shirt and suit. He had had to purchase one specially for the event, since his wardrobe had no colors brighter than one could spot on a graveyard at night. "And... I know this is neither the time nor the place, but I just want to let you know the town has allocated the necessary resources to hire two detectives from the capital. They are both expected later this week."
Both of Hazel's parents thanked him for all his efforts with just a faint hint of sourness as could be expected from people who had just lost their only child.
"Kiril was it? Did you know Hazel well?" her mother turned to him, almost to his shock. "She mentioned you once, I think."
"Y-yes." he coughed "Not too well, I'm afraid. We only spoke a couple of times." he almost said something the lines of "I'm sorry for your loss." but quickly straightened himself "She was a remarkable girl. I am glad to have known her."




With the official part finally over, all his family members dispersed to talk to other guests and grab some food. Kiril couldn't even think about food at the moment and he didn't feel like talking to anyone either, so he headed towards the memorial instead. He barely saw some girls from school - Hibiscus and Sieg talking to each other and smiled politely as he walked past them.
He walked a bit more until he was face to face with the gift-riddled memorial. It was only after he looked at the picture that it hit him. Not the fact that someone was dead. Not the threat to his family's power. Not even the threat to the town's stability. The very simple and very human realization that someone he had known and talked to was now irreversibly gone. A deep sadness suddenly almost overwhelmed him even though he wasn't normally so emotional. He hadn't lied to Haze's mother - the two of them hadn't been friends. They weren't even proper acquaintances. They'd spoken a few times at school, mostly about school matters, and they'd drunk shots together at a party once. Hazel had gotten drunk before he had, that much he remembered. He'd also persuaded her to vote for his father at the last election cycle and she had been a tough one to persuade. Simple, extremely minor interactions with a person he never considered as anything more than a passer-by in his life. Just another facet of the world around him, pertaining to him in only the very minute of ways. And now she was gone. Ripped apart. And I have only just considered that. I've been so preoccupied with the circumstances and the aftermath of her death I'd forgotten to grief about the actual person.
Kiril suddenly felt bad standing here, realizing that. He felt disgusted with himself to the point of nausea. Taking a large, amber ink pen from the pocket of his jeans, he quickly placed it amidst the other gifts and swiftly walked away. He needed some air.




Preoccupied with his own thoughts, Kiril let his feet carry him and was completely taken aback when he realized he now stood amidst the hedge maze. A young man walked past him, casting an irksome gaze at him. Kiril stood for a while with his hands in his pockets, enjoying the cold breeze and then proceeded forward. His eyes looking at the sky, he almost stepped over the girl laying in the grass. He stopped right in front of her and looked down. Blond hair, glasses... he'd seen her at school though they'd never talked as far as he remembered. He struggled for a moment to try and remember her name.
"Jade." his voice was elevated as if he had found something long lost. Quickly realizing he'd spoken aloud, Kiril switched to his usual calm politeness. "Or, rather, Miss Ethan. We're not on first name basis, I suppose. Fancy meeting you here. Apologies if I've disturbed you." he added as he noticed her lack of shoes and obvious relaxed demeanor. Just as he was preparing to walk away and leave the girl alone, a thought quickly came back to him "Though, judging by the circumstances and the location of our encounter, I wouldn't mind talking about this entire situation. Unless you prefer to be left alone, of course."
 
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Celebration of life my ass, a girl was fucking murdered. The same exasperated thoughts ran through August's head in a continuous loop, like an atrocious pop song stuck on eternal replay. He understood trying to be optimistic, he really did... but Hazel had been murdered in cold blood and that didn't warrant any kind of celebration.

August was standing on the sidewalk opposite to the Pearson's home, and from where he stood, he could make out the faint sounds of music coming from their backyard. Hearing the pleasant sounds and seeing the tasteful decor around their home left him feeling a little ill, and a nagging voice in the back of his head told him that coming to the "celebration" in the first place had been a horrible lapse of judgement.

He didn't really know Hazel. Sure, they'd spoken a couple of time, but that was about it.

Still... she was one of the good ones - someone who actually gave a crap about things. August disliked people most of the time - mostly for inane reasons - but Hazel had always been good in his book. This was the least he could do. This was his only chance to pay his respects to a girl who always tried to make Roseburn a better place.

He buried his hands into the pockets of his jeans. August was dressed in a bright orange button-up shirt, black slacks, and his older brother's oxfords - simple and colorful, but formal enough for a memorial. Speaking of his brother, the jerk had been the one who'd broken the news to him.

"Did you hear about the Pearson girl? You know her from school, Augustus?"

The jerk announced it over dinner as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

He remembered giving his brother a nonchalant nod as he ate what was left of his day-old spaghetti. The words had entered one ear and out the other until his brother had gotten to the part about murder. It was so out of the blue, that he had dropped his fork to stare. 'Not funny, asshole,' he'd said. Of course, it all turned out to be true.

Taking one last calming breath, he mustered up the will to cross the street. August ignored the decor and niceties, making a quick beeline for Hazel's portrait. He didn't know her well enough to pick out a meaningful gift, so he mumbled a heartfelt apology under his breath instead. "I'm sorry this happened to you, Hazel. I hope whoever did this to you pays with a fuckton of blood." He kept the last part to himself.

Once he'd finished saying his piece, he snapped up his head to look for anyone familiar.

He noticed a cluster of people hanging out in the hedge maze, but hadn't noticed Jade due to Kiril's height. There were a handful of other familiar faces from around town - and Sieg, good ol' Sieg.

Without wasting another moment, he dropped in on her like he always did. She was talking to another familiar girl, but he ended up drawing blanks whenever he tried to remember her name. "You must be glad to see me, this whole memorial is a real bummer." He mustered up a small smile before giving Hibiscus a nod. "I feel like I've seen you at school, but I don't really remember your name. August, I'm Sieg's friend. Crazy stuff, amirite?"

Not the best way to butt into a serious conversation, but August had never been the most tactful person around.
 
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Shea rolled over in bed, refusing to open her eyes even with notice of the morning light coming from her window. Then she rolled over again, and again, and again, trying to get into another comfortable position. Sighing, she turned over her pillow and threw her head back down. The cool of the unused side of the pillow caused her to smile. Wrapped in her blanket, she rolled over again, enveloping herself even more. The sound of her clock tick and the busy town outside just lulled her to sleep, just like rain does. "I could stay like this forever" she mumbled.
Ring, ring, came a horrid noise from her right. Who would dare call her in the morning? Especially since she wasn't an early bird. Like, at all. She'd just ignore the call for now, she decided, and answer it later today. Or tomorrow. But right after it stopped, she was called again and the hideous ringtone returned. After about five minutes of annoying Shea was fed up. "UGH" she groaned as she reluctantly peeled herself from her covers. Snatching her phone from the nightstand, she glared at the caller ID. Well, she couldn't mess with her boss. So she answered with the steadiest voice she could manage. "HELLO....hello so please explain to me why it was A GOOD IDEA...well it was....KIND OF.....was....to wake me up IN THE MORNING?" Yeah, it was obvious she was pissed.
"Well..." her boss began. What her boss told her next was enough to make all her hairs stand up. A girl was murdered, Hazel Pearson, as she remembered. And worst, there wasn't a lead. This may be big news for the newspaper but not for the girl's relatives or the girl herself. And even worst, her boss just told her to skip her day off and report to the office immediately.
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It only took her half an hour to get dressed. Upon reporting to the office she was told to take a trip to Miss Pearson's memorial. Strange enough, she was also told to wear bright colors. Usually you'd dress in all black, right?

Stuffing her feet in bright, yellow heels she reached for the knob on her apartment's front door. Turning it, she pulled it open with an eeeeeeeerk coming from the old hinges. "Geez, is there ever a janitor? " Actually, she's realized quite a while ago that there indeed wasn't.

Snatching her jean jacket, she slid it on over her matching yellow dress. It only came down to just above her knees in case she had running to do. She's learned that lesson the last time she wore a dress down to her feet. Oh that dress, she despised it.

Lastly grabbing her sling bag and swinging it on to her shoulder, she took her apartment keys and locked herself out. Her heels clicking on the ground, she shakily began walking down the street to Hazel Pearson's memorial. Shea wasn't the best at walking in heels, having worn sneakers most of the time.

She remembered her boss's orders. "And when you get to that funeral, make sure to pay your respects first. Then afterwards you're free to find out more. Whatever you do though, make sure you get more information on this story. Don't act suspicious though. Just pretend you're a curious girl from school."

"make sure to pay your respects first"
Oh god, she forgot the flowers! She had planned earlier to just bring flowers. Lucky enough, she could spot a flower store in the distance. Plucking off her heels, she ran to the store barefoot, heels in hand.

And lucky enough again, it was closed. "Closed?!" she exclaimed as she read the sign on the door. Pulling her hair, she forced herself to think of a Plan B. Then, she realized, there were flowers for display outside of the store. Well, the shopkeeper wouldn't mind, would he? Besides, she'd leave money behind.

Grabbing a bouquet of orange poppies, she read the price tag. '$30.50' it read. She grabbed a wad of forty bucks from her sling bag and replaced it with the poppies on the stand it was laying on.

With her newly acquired poppies, she ran the rest of the way to the memorial. Stopping in front of the house it was apparently at, she put her heels back on and once again, shakily walked to the backyard.

Stepping inside, she breathed in the scent of candles and grass. Spotting a picture of supposedly Miss Pearson, since it was surrounded by gifts, she began her stride to it. Her shaky stride.

Taking her poppies, she kneeled in front of the picture and bowed her head. Placing the poppies beside the gigantic picture, she whispered, "Sorry you had to pass so young miss. I've heard you were a great girl. Hope you keep that sunshine aura of yours with you in heaven." She tried her best to keep her wording fitting to the memorial.

Standing back up, she turned away and began her look out for people that looked like relatives or friends of the late Hazel Pearson. Spotting a group of teens, two girls and a boy, she'd decided they looked interviewable.

But first, like she was taught, she had to be the mouse first. Trying her best to walk unnoticed, she found a table of food nearby the gang. Slipping under the table cloth, she strained her ears to listen to their conversation.

Then she began feeling the sting. Not only were her heels hard to walk in, they were starting to blister her feet. "Stupid heels" she muttered as she yanked them off. Wiggling her toes in the grass, she sighed in relief, satisfied without having to go another minute with the horrible freaks on her feet.

Now to listen to that conversation.
 
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Hazel Pearson had been neither friend nor enemy to Ellia. Of course she'd heard of the girl. Ellia made it a point to at least hear something about everyone. It helped not only with her extra curricular activities but also finding help on the few occasions she'd needed it. When word of the murder had swept the school, she didn't believe it. Something like that wouldn't happen in a town like this, right? However, she'd been quick to notice Hazel's absence and find truth in the words.

While not exactly sad, this didn't make her happy either. It brought back the bitter memories of her family. Of her brother. So, she spent the day quietly preparing for the memorial and trying to outrun memories of that night nine years ago.

The scent of chocolate and cinnamon lingered in her small, near-empty home. She'd found it not only helped take the edge off smelling like a corpse, in her opinion, but it's also what Derek had smelled like when he still walked among the living. It made her feel like home. Just a little.

Now then, clothes. Without any hesitation in her steps, she made her way to her bedroom and to the closet. To keep things simple, most of her clothes were white with small hints of blue in some. She'd had help buying them and it made it simple for her to match her clothes together and look okay no matter what she wore. Fortunately she wasn't too fond of the color black seeing as the Pearson family requested people wear bright colors to celebrate their daughter.

Picking out a long, light blue skirt and a white sleeveless sweater was easy and she was quick to dress. Next were a pair of white ballet flats with blue ribbons on the front. Her pale hands ran over the material trying to imagine what she looked like right now and if it was acceptable. The feeling of each piece of cloth helped her paint a picture in her mind of what she hoped the outfit looked like and made her look like. It was a shame she'd never know.

With a small sigh, she trudged for the door. On her way out she grabbed her cane and her thin, white jacket. While neither were necessary for her anymore, but she had to keep up appearances for everyone else. Locking the door on her way out, she stepped into the brisk winter air and breathed it in, instantly overwhelmed by scents and sounds. She stood on her doorstep for a few seconds while she gathered her bearings before hesitantly making her way down the sidewalk.

Before heading to the memorial, Ellia stopped by a flower shop and got a bouquet of colorful carnations with the help of the cashier. While she herself couldn't see the flowers, the cashier had assured her multiple times that they looked perfect. Now, without nothing to stall her, she gathered herself and found her way to the Pearson house with an ease she shouldn't possess seeing as she couldn't read street sings to find the address even if it had been told to her. She merely found the largest gathering of body heat.

Using her cane for 'guidance' she'd made her way to the backyard, feeling the heat of the candles and using them to find where she should leave her flowers. Once that was finished, she tried to separate herself from the crowd. Moving carefully towards what felt like hedges.... A hedge maze perhaps? There were others in the maze, but she didn't want to approach. From their scents she could tell they were her classmates. Though she couldn't be bothered to match their scents to their names at this moment.

A short distance away from the others, she sank to the grass and tucked her knees under her in a demure manner which prevented her skirt from rising up. She set her cane next to her and breathed in, savoring the evening. White eyes stare blankly ahead of her, looking in no particular direction as she tried to decide what her next move would be. If not finding a conversation partner, than what?​
 
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H O M E. -------------> M E M O R I A L.


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Silence fills the air as a great blur of trees whiz past. A silver mustang cruises leisurely down the narrow side road at the appropriate speed. Two people sit inside the confined space. The driver an older gentleman with brown locks that seem to have lost their luster, and a snazzy attire. His grey eyes are fixated on the road before the vehicle, and his expression is flat. For a moment he averts his gaze to the passenger seat. Sitting there is someone much taller than him, and looking extremely uncomfortable in his tiny car. "Juniper,You alright over there?" his voice finally breaks the silence with concerned words.


"Mm..." The younger of the two muses quietly to the man. It's the sound of acknowledgement, but their Hazel eyes refuse to shift away from the window. Juniper's reflection glares back at her, and she focuses on it. She inspects her features thoroughly, and then timidly adjusts the off colored bow tie around her neck. It's an off white like her trousers, and goes well with her wine colored button up. As she adjusts her bow her light orbs notice the agitated flesh around her nails. The skin looked raw and broken. A wave of disgust washes over her, not because it acted as a reminder of her mental weakness, but because of how ugly it looked. An exasperated huff of annoyance leaves her lips, and she shifts forward in her seat. She didn't want to look at herself anymore, so she opted to watch the road ahead. "I'm fine." Juniper tells him a flat lie, and he knows this.


Silence.


The two finally pulled into the correct neighborhood, but parked a little ways away from the home. Cassius figured that it would be easier to find a spot this way, and the short walk wouldn't hurt either of them. Cassius seemed to be enjoying the nice change in weather, but Juniper honestly felt indifferent about it. It was cloudy, and after long cold weeks she wanted to feel the sun rays. Even just a little. Even if hurt to do so. She always felt a little less miserable when the sun was out. When it wasn't sunny, she'd eat oranges as if that would make up for it. Of course, her favorite fruit was ruined for her too ever since she was turned into a vampire. Food in general was ruined. It all tasted like sand. Still despite all that it was nice that it was warmer, at least for Hazel anyways. Juniper never met the girl, but judging on her family's backwards funerary customs she felt like Hazel would be glad her memorial was on such a nice day. A sudden trill of noise startles them both for a moment, before realizing that one of them has received a text message. Juniper chuckles as her guardian frantically searches his pockets for his phone, and then tells him that it was hers....after he had already fished his out. The face he gave her made Juniper laugh harder, and she shakes her head in disbelief at how easy he is. Unlocking her phone, the screen instantly opens up to her messages.


[Hey.


Jade here.

Got some time to hang out at the book store later? Could really use a friend about now.


PS: Tell August to not bother dragging his sarcastic ass alone....]



Juniper ponders a response to her only friend in this god forsaken town. Jade was always nice to be around, and her heart wells up in hope of her attending the memorial as well. Juniper felt like she needed a friend's presence herself, and glanced over to Cassius whom was waiting patiently for her to get moving. She nods at him a bit sheepishly, and the both start to move forward. Juniper casually asks if she could go out, to which Cassius encourages greatly. For some reason whenever she asks to go out he gets this stupid smile on his face. She hated that he valued her happiness so much...considering what he knew about her being her psychiatrist and all. Juniper's long digits are nimble against the phone's touch screen, and she quickly writes up a response.


[ Hey Jade!


It's good to hear from you. C-man says I can hang. The bookstore sounds great! Having a crummy day? Oh hey, are you attending the memorial service? Cassius is forcing me in attending, so if you're there I guess I'll see you soon. If not....wish me luck. Hah. ]



Shortly after sending her message to Jade the Pearson's home had become very prominent in their forward vision, and at this point Juniper started having a hard time blocking out the music from the house. Which means she couldn't really focus on her thoughts for now. Her face started to contort with obvious discomfort and annoyance. Fortunately for her, Cassius had already taught her a few methods of noise cancellation. Either wearing ear plugs, focusing on a singular noise, or focusing on the beating heart of someone nearby. He didn't encourage the last of the three, however; as she is newly turned. Juniper had yet to master the amount of self control it would take to use such a method, and self control was never really in Juniper's vocabulary even before the change. Before they get closer to the house he stops them.


"Remember. If you get hungry you are free to walk back to the car. I packed you some snacks in case you start feeling uneasy."


Juniper nods signaling to him that she understands, and they pass the next three houses. Taking a deep breath, Juniper quickly starts to focus her attention on a singular noise. Something subtle that wouldn't drive her up the wall. Anything from the quiet ticking of a wrist watch, or the low humming of the vents. Juniper settled on the vents, and made sure that whenever she wasn't being addressed in conversation then she would go back to that dull vibration. As soon as she entered the door she could feel a small handful of eyes shift to her. She didn't blame them. Juniper was quite used to turning heads by this point in her life, and no one here even knew who she was as she just moved to this small town. She didn't want to get to know any of them either.


"I'm going to go drop off Hazel's offering." Juniper quickly mumbles under her breath as a small handful of people begin to approach the two. The must be friends of Cassius, as they all looked pretty eager to speak with him. To inquire about this stranger he had brought into this home. The thought nearly gave Juniper chills, and she quickly brushed off the feeling with a shake of her head. Inching closer to Hazel's portrait, and immediately Juniper felt uncomfortable. This was very different than her mother's wake. What was she supposed to say? Do? The feeling left Juniper scratching at her scalp feeling a tad bit loss. "So I guess at this memorial I am supposed to refer to Hazel as if she were here, to the memory of her. Let's see...well....," Juniper trails off and then there's a bit of a pause. Her thoughts twist, turn, and knot as she ponders on exactly what to say.


"Well...It's nice to meet you then I guess? Since we haven't met before I don't really know what to say. I don't know if you are a good person, or a bad one. Cassius cried when he heard the news though, not to be a downer or anything, but you must have been a nice girl for him to do that. There's lots of people here too. Talking about you. Sharing memories of you I imagine...." Juniper began to talk to the portrait in hopes that maybe if Hazel's spirit were to be around then she'd be happy right now. Juniper tried to picture that as she rummaged through her pocket. Pulling out a small candle she placed it on the table with the rest of the gifts. "This is how I will remember you then. As a nice woman who brings people together both in life and in death. I hope all the people you've connected with will remember that, and carry it with them. It is a tradition in my family to burn a candle for forty days to remind us of our loss and the absence of life, and while it may not be in line with the customs of your family I felt like it would be appropriate to leave a piece of me with you. It is the least I could do, after you've already given so much of yourself to those around you in life. Everyone here is a show to that." With nothing more to say she lights the candle with her on hand striker, and watches the wick darken. Taking a step back she inspects the table to make sure that her candle isn't anywhere near the portrait or other flammables. It's a very small candle, so the flame is very little and non to hot. The wax would burn in at least a few hours before going out on it's own. The only way it could cause a problem is if someone deliberately tried to burn the offerings by messing with it. Juniper trusted no one would be so disrespectful. She gives the portrait a deep bow, and mutters a short prayer under her breath.


Standing straight again, her hazel eyes dart around the back yard to find that she has a few eyes on her. She simply waved at them feeling a bit anxious. She wasn't sure if what she did was inappropriate or not, but it was her way of showing respect to the deceased. She still couldn't get her stomach to settle, and with her nerves she started to chew on her lip. Wanting a distraction she moved over to the buffet table and made a small plate just because it was something to do, and because it made her look normal to prying eyes. At least that's what she thought anyways.
 
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At memorial/Next to buffet table/ @Vio

==================
To: Hazel

Hey, what do you think about meeting up for the weekend? I know we’re both pretty busy with everything, but that movie you wanted to see is coming out, right? Magical Girl something-something.

If you’re still busy, we can always meet up later, but it’s been weird just texting back and forth like this. Charlotte’s been joking that we’re in a ‘long distance relationship,’ lol.

Anyway, just text me back when you can.

Love you, little bunny <3

----

To: Hazel

Is everything alright? I’m sorry if the nickname is bad, lol, just text me back at some time.

----

To: Hazel

Hazel, can you call me back ASAP? It’s been a couple of hours, and no one knows where you are. Your folks are starting to get worried.

If you need some time alone, just let me know, okay?

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To: Hazel

Please please please call me, or text me, or SOMETHING.

Please just say you’re safe.

------

Jack stared down at his phone, his body lent forward as his arms rested on his knees. His thumb idly tapped the ‘check for messages’ option, though he knew that no reply had been sent. No reply would ever be sent.

After a long few moments of staring at the wall of one-sided messages, Jack looked up, eyes absently sweeping across his room. He’d be sitting exactly here, perched on the edge of his bed, when the news had finally arrived. When Hazel had been…found.

The last few days had been a blur. He remembered being sick to his stomach and weeping, but little else. He remembered long nights of lying awake, hoping that drawn would reveal that this had all been some twisted dream, but remembered little when the day actually arrived. He remembered collapsing at least a few times in his sister’s arms, but nothing of what they said after.

More than anything else, he remembered Hazel. How bright and full of life she had been, how eager she was to make the most out of every day. It had felt impossible to imagine a girl like her ever slowing down let alone…

A knock at his bedroom door caused Jack to sit up, quickly wiping at his eyes with the back of his sleeve. By the time he had finished, the door had already slowly creaked open, and his sister’s head had poked through the opening. Charlotte’s blue eyes, usually so fierce, were soft as she stepped through the door.

“Hey,” The smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as she gestured to the hallway. “It’s time to go.”

“Y-yea, I’m on the way.” Jack pulled himself to his feet, doing his best to not crease his blue dress shirt and grey trousers as he stood. He regretted not having some kind of suit to go with it, but the only things he had were all pretty bleak in colour. It would have to do.

The two siblings stood in silence for a few moments. Charlotte’s mouth opened once, though she halted whatever words she had been considering, and instead she simply nodded. Without a word, both made their final preparations before making their way out of the house and towards the memorial.

Hazel’s house wasn’t far, only a few streets down from the Duston’s, thus it made sense for the brother and sister to simply walk. Jack shivered slightly during the transit, despite the fair weather. He had wandered down this route so many times he was almost certain he could do it with his eyes closed, but his steps were slow and uneven. Unlike every other time he had travelled down these winding streets, he knew for certain that the house he was aiming for would be absent of the one person he was hoping to see.

Jack didn’t know when his hand had slipped into his sister’s, but he was glad when she squeezed back.

“…It’s a shame Samantha and Ma couldn’t make it.” Charlotte said, her tone distracted. “I’m sure they would have wanted to see her off.”

Jack nodded, but didn’t trust himself to speak. The duo travelled the rest of the way without a word, though Charlotte kept her hand locked around her brother’s.

They had arrived at the Pearson residence without incident, the familiar building looking somewhat alien thanks to the almost ethereal fabric that had been used for the memorial. Jack caught sight of the colourful outfits that the various guests were wearing, and heard the drifting sound of music, voices, and bittersweet laughter. Despite everything, Jack felt a faded smile creep across his lips. This was definitely the kind of service that Hazel would have wanted.

“I’m going to go see her parents, and apologize for Sammy and Ma.” Charlotte finally let Jack’s hand go, but not before giving him a concerned look. “Do you want to come, or…?”

“Y-…no, I think I’ll,” Jack swallowed the lump in his throat, and forced a calming breath through his lungs. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t fall apart at this memorial, not when it was meant to be a celebration of Hazel’s life. “I’ll go pay my respects first. I’ll meet up with you after.”

His elder sister nodded once, and Jack soon found himself wandering through the gathering by himself. He hadn’t said anything to Charlotte, but at least part of the reason that he didn’t want to meet with Hazel’s parents right away was because he was still trying to think of what he could possibly say. He felt like the world had stopped making sense as soon as he heard the news about Hazel: he couldn’t even begin to imagine what her poor mother and father were going through right now.

Soon, Jack had made his way to the shine dedicated to Hazel, her portrait illuminated in the flicker flame of candlelight. Jack’s feet led him to stand in front of the gathered flowers and gifts that laid before portrait, the sounds of the gathering slowly fading from the boy’s mind as he looked across still expression of Hazel.

She was smiling in the picture. Of course she was: Jack could hardly think of the times where she hadn’t been smiling about something. It was a good thing, though. Hazel had a smile that lit up a whole room.

Jack felt a hundred moments, years worth of memories, flood back to him. The memories blurred together, and became an indistinct mess of conflicting times and places, but one thing anchored him to them. In each one, Hazel had been smiling, and Jack held onto the fact. Even if she was gone now, that didn’t mean all the time she had given to him had meant nothing.

Jack reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, flat disc of metal. The disc fit in the palm of one’s hand, made out of a material that Jack had never really identified, with a necklace of smooth thread looped through a small hole in the disc’s surface. The metal was marked with small signs of wear, though the odd symbol in its centre was still clearly visible. Hazel had given it to him as a gift when they were both much younger, making the claim that it was a good luck charm. He’d never really bought it, and yet here he was, still holding onto the thing years later.

Jack’s fingers collapsed over the metal, the smooth edge of the disc digging into his skin as he forced a calming breath through his lungs. He turned his gaze back to the clear, beautiful eyes in the portrait.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when you needed me most.

Jack laid the charm down, the small piece of metal almost immediately losing itself between the flowers and other offerings.

Thank you, Hazel, for the part of yourself that you gave me. I hope you can find peace.

Jack took one last look at the picture of the girl that been both his best friend and much more, before finally turning away.

Jack felt…better. A cloud of regret and grief continued to hang over his head and drift around inside his chest, but it felt like some relief had been given to the sensation. That was the purpose of these kinds of memorials, Jack supposed. It still felt like he could fall apart if he focused too much on how much he hadn’t said to Hazel, but the soft music and colourful gathering helped to remind him that Hazel probably wouldn’t have wanted such a turn. Thusly, Jack set off for the buffet table. He hadn’t exactly been eating well for the last few days, and while his appetite still felt almost non-existent, he could feel the start of hunger once again growling in his stomach.

He must have been hungrier than he thought, though, since he made his was down the buffet table with enough haste that he accidently walked straight into someone’s shoulder, he gaze diverted by the table’s bounty. The small plate’s worth of treats and sandwiches he had been gathering went scattering as Jack recoiled on the impact.

“Oof-sorry about that!” Jack quickly righted himself, turning properly to face the victim of his wayward walking. “I guess I wasn’t watching where I was going…huh…”

Jack blinked slightly as he looked up at the figure he had bumped into. As embarrassing as it was to admit, Jack couldn’t quite figure out if they were an exceptionally pretty guy or an exceptionally handsome woman. Jack didn’t recognise them, though they couldn’t have been too much older than he was.

It was during this quick inspection that Jack noticed a piece of watercress, no doubt from one of the sandwiches on his plate, was sticking pretty stubbornly to the stranger’s deep red shirt. Hastily, Jack grabbed a napkin off the buffet table, offering both it and an apologetic look to the stranger.

“I’m really sorry about that. I’m usually not so clumsy, but I think my mind was…you know,” Jack nodded his head to the memorial at large. “Elsewhere.”
 

Aurora LaBelle


The moment Hazel had died, a deep dreadful feeling had come over Aurora. She'd known something was terribly, terribly wrong, that a vibrant star had just fallen from the sky, what should've been a long life had been struck short. But at the time, she wasn't sure what to do about it- and so she went about her life as normally as she could. She had been in her home over her bookshop, wrapping a special book for Hazel, not knowing that the heartfelt gift would never reach it's destination.
The book was one that Hazel had come in previously wanting to see, and miraculously, Aurora possessed it in her massive collection. She had made herbal tea for Hazel and herself, and they sat in the back room of the bookshop reading the book and learning the secrets of witchcraft that it held in its worn pages. It wasn't an old book, it was just well-loved, and taught about the deep connection one should have with their element in order to wield it properly. Hazel had enjoyed learning about all of the elements, and was a frequent customer, and Aurora liked to consider her a close friend. Hazel had been someone that Aurora cared deeply about.

When she'd learned about Hazel's death, Aurora could swear a piece of her soul was lost. No longer would Aurora be able to help mentor the blossoming witch with her vast knowledge. No more hot cups of tea in the late hours of the evening. Hazel was always able to brighten the room with her kindness and smile, and it was devastating to Aurora that she wouldn't be able to see it anymore.

Aurora stood in front of Hazel's house, fashionably late by at least seven minutes, clutching a carefully wrapped present containing the very book she'd planned on gifting to Hazel. A pit had formed in Aurora's stomach, and the feeling prevented her from taking a step further.

She had dressed warmly in a vibrantly colored and embroidered coat, wearing a white shirt and black pants underneath. Around her neck was an antique amulet passed down through her family, used to mask her strong energy as well as her scent. She wore Shalimar perfume to further assist in masking her scent, but really she just adored the smell.

Aurora took a deep breath, knowing that Hazel wouldn't want her to mourn the loss, but instead to be proud and rejoice in what she'd had. Hazel would want to be celebrated. Finally Aurora stepped into the Pearson's home, glad to see that any decorations used were colorful.

Hazel deserves to be celebrated. She really was a beautiful person,inside and out.

Aurora made her way into the backyard, where she saw a large portrait of Hazel, perfectly capturing the girl's spirit. She was proud of Hazel, and felt that she was blessed by the gods to have gotten a chance to know her, even if their friendship had been short-lived.

Her heart wrenched slightly as she kept her eyes on the Portrait, and the many gifts that had been laid around it. She looked down at the wrapped book she'd brought, her brow knitting together slightly as she tried to hold back tears. Slowly, Aurora looked up again at the photograph and walked towards it, stopping a foot away from it.

"Mes douleurs cardiaques, I am sorry that you had to leave us so soon- I know you wanted much more for your life. Bon voyage, I hope to see you in the next life!" Aurora smiled at the picture, placing the book beneath it among the other presents.

 
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Byron was... Worried.

Not in the usual way, however. Whatever that was. He just knew that this kind of worry deviated from the normal.

This kind of incident... It was tragic... And it also posed a threat to him. The life he had been living in this town was going to come to a close soon, but he was enjoying what was left of it. He was getting to know the locals, he was making friends, he was pretending to be young even though he was positive that he was not. The facade of his life had a risk of crashing down and this girl... This girl who died had caused it.



Byron arrived at the memorial service not much later than most, it seemed. This kind of event attracted a lot of attention from a lot of people, especially since Hazel was such a well-known girl. Well... Byron wouldn't have said well-known when she was alive, but she was there.

As Byron arrived in the door, he had received a text message from one of the popular girls who had started a group chat in the last few minutes for figuring out plans after the memorial service. Ugh. It was disgusting. Death was such a ritual, but Byron never let the fear of death leave him. It came faster for humans, and Byron wasn't sure whether he would experience it at any point, but it was possible he would experience it. It was not set in stone, just as humans... Just as Hazel.

"O M G. I didn't realize, but Jack Duston is so cute!! Guys, do you think I should make a move on him? I mean, I know that his girlfriend just got murdered and stuff, but like... Should I wait like a week?"

Byron immediately rolled his eyes upon reading this text message after pulling out his vibrating phone. The other girls had told her "No" without actually saying no. This was the problem with teenage women. They never understand how slow someone gets over someone else, and yet, when they get their hearts broken and are approached by someone a week later, they complain. Byron sighed as he put his phone back in his pocket. It wasn't worth it to get into it with this girl right now. And even if she did want to make a move on him, Byron would keep Jack all to himself. He'd had an eye on the guy for a while, but always kept things polite for the sake of his girlfriend. Hazel was out of the picture, but Byron was more considerate than that girl.

Byron made his way over to the portrait of Hazel and set down a small brown package, which contained one serving of her favorite tea in it. Hazel might not have been a big socializer with him, but he knew enough about her to pick out a gift fitting for her. As he set down the package, a twang of guilt flowed through him. The emotions he had felt earlier toward her... His worry, his anger, and his sadness felt excessive now that he was here in front of her portrait. Byron took a deep breath as some of the girls from the group chat had congregated in the buffet area (mostly because Jack seemed to have some sort of accident there and they decided to "help" by watching and gawking) and waved him over. Byron smiled at the group, but then winked and gave them the "one second" signal. His guilt welled up inside of him and he couldn't interact with the girls right now.

Before he left the photo of Hazel though, he heard some girl speak french to it. Byron immediately turned to face her and immediately pegged her as Aurora. Most of his friends called her the "Wicked Bitch of the Bookstore" but he never bought into their naming. Aurora seemed much nicer than most of the women he interacted with, she was just... More roundabout in her kindness. Byron liked her personality much more than he would care to admit, but she was interesting. "Ah, Aurora. It's nice to see you." Byron posed these statements to her to try and start conversation. Although, he wasn't sure how successful things would be considering his... Somewhat terrible reputation.
 
"You seem extremely cheerful by funeral-goer standards."
A dry voice addressed Aurora's demeanour as little more than a calm observation.
"Well, she was simple enough that she wouldn't want anyone to be upset."
If there was an issue with what Isaac Alfaire had said, it was with his phrasing, not his tone. On the contrary, he spoke in near-perfect measure, to the point where one could easily have speculated that his words had been rehearsed.

They had, of course, but that was neither here nor there.

"If nothing else, I'm surprised so many people from the book club are here," he said. "Except you, in hindsight. You seem like you two would have been good friends."
He leaned down, placing a velvet box neatly beside the other offerings to the girl's memory.
"By your powers of optimism combined, you could have taken on the world. Or clinical depression. Probably not both," he shrugged. "Makes me wonder what her private life must have been like for anyone to want to kill her. Perhaps the sand mafia has a branch or two in Roseburn."
In truth, he did actually wonder exactly what had happened. It wouldn't have been out of pettiness, surely...
But that was none of his business.

"I'm off to find people, I suppose," he shrugged, his backpack bouncing a bit. It was hardly appropriate attire for a funeral, but he needed something that could carry A4 paper, so he was taking it. "I thought it might be nice to celebrate some of her work she did for her hobbies."
And off he went, leaving a completely one-sided conversation hanging in the air.
He wouldn't normally have said anything at all, but he wanted to set a precedent. He intended to talk to Aurora later. Doing so out of the blue would have been... well, probably about as tactless as he had just been, but that wasn't the point.

He stepped outside, catching sight of a figure with pale eyes, stumbling around with a cane. Or at least, so she should have been.
On the contrary, it looked like she was without a doubt visually impaired, where even an expert actor would have had trouble mimicking it.
Unless they actually had been blind.
I suppose this means I have to figure out if she is now.
He sighed mentally, but it was better safe than sorry. If she was something... more than human, ascertaining exactly what was high on his list of priorities right now.
I will enjoy the party as a party. Later. But I will, he swore, approaching the girl cordially, but not speaking a word just yet.
 
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Jade was laying in the grass as another girl passed by. A blonde girl, maybe a classmate of hers? She watched her walk by, not bothering to interrupt her. Likely another person seeking solitude in the hedge maze. She was really pretty. Jade just shook her head and tried to pay it no more attention.

And solitude, it seemed, she would not find here. She was approached by the tall figure of... Ah, what was his name? Kieran? No, that wasn't it. But she at least knew he was the son of mayor Zarovich.

"Mister Zarovich. Call me Jade... And it's fine. We can talk, if you want," she said. In all honesty he was disturbing her peace. But it was a welcome disturbance. "I don't really know what to talk about though. I barely knew her. All I keep thinking is that I don't belong here, that all I'm doing is insulting the girl and her family."

Since she heard the news of Hazel's death from her mother, she guessed that their parents had known each other some amount. And why was she talking about her feelings or anything personal with this boy? She barely knew him. They had never been friends. Though he seemed kind enough.

In the distance Jade spotted another entry to the maze. Another pretty blonde girl, small, thin, and very frail looking. Jade watched as the girl tapped her way through the grass using a stick. Jade wondered if she knew her. After all there were not too many blind people on Roseburn. For that matter, . How many lonely blonde girls were seeking safety in the hedges?

"Did you know her well?" Jade asked.
 
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Looking up at the sky Claire found herself lost in thought. It was killing her as those words played on repeat in her head. How things could have been different now. Her and Hazel could have been friends, and maybe the day she was killed could have been changed. The two could have been hanging out and she could have protected Hazel. She felt guilt, so much guilt, for not trying to be the girl's friend. Claire's stomach growled bringing her out of her mind. Right she had forgotten to eat today, as per usual for the past few days.

Sighing the blonde stood up and made her way out of the maze. Glancing over she noticed another blonde walking with a cane, must be national lonely blonde escape day. Claire wondered what life must be like without seeing the world. She always could escape in her art and without sight, well, you wouldn't be about to draw. You could but you wouldn't see the masterpiece, you wouldn't get a feeling from it. Then again some days she just scribbled her frustrations away and the piece evoked nothing but relief.

It was either go past the blind girl or, looking the other way she came, now a guy with the chick on the ground. Taking the route of lesser evils, and lesser people, Claire decided to just go by the blind woman. Worst case scenario she gets hit with a cane. Walking down the corridor she didn't say anything as she walked past. Her eye's shifted to look at Isaac as he approached. Great what luck, was he walking to see her? She knew he was a schoolmate but they had never spoken. As Claire brushed past she exhaled in relief once he kept walking, presumably to the blind girl.

Making her way to the buffet table she was about ten feet away when Jack stumbling into Juniper. Well she was not expecting that or the food to fall everywhere. He stomach groaned in despair and she rolled her eyes. Jack, Hazel's boyfriend. She knew of him because their relationship wasn't hidden. If anything it was almost what one would call perfect. A ping of sadness hit her, right. Jack must be destroyed over this and she felt bad for the guy. After all seeing how happy the two made each other. Grabbing her arm Claire walked over. "Hey.. Jack.. I am sorry for your loss. Hazel was an amazing person. If you need anyone to talk to.. uh you can come to me." Though she glanced at the ground as she spoke.

Rarely she showed concern for other's. She wasn't a heartless bitch but she often felt it would be difficult to help someone else if she herself was a mess. On the outside Claire tries to be calm, collective and quiet. The truth is she keeps to herself because she has trouble expressing herself to others. Though right now it seemed Jack could use someone. Sure they weren't friends but anyone was better than nothing. Looking up Claire noticed the tattoo's on the other person's hand.

Shifting her eyes further up she wondered who this person was. Obviously they were new in town because she had not recognized them. "Nice tattoos. I have always wanted one. I think they are cool, though I could probably not pull one off." Moving to get a plate Claire grabbed any food that was still on the table and she walked to sit down at another table, specified for guests to use. She looked at Jack and the other person for a second before she looked around the yard. Her parents were talking to the Pearson couple and June was.. nowhere to be seen.

That was until she heard her and looking up the older blonde walked over, as she sat the table cloth moved and Claire's food fell on to her. Claire looked down at her lap and dress before looking over at June who was quickly apologizing. "S-sorry Claire, let me hel-" Up in seconds Claire clenched her fist. "You did that on purpose you bitch!" She yelled frustrated as she pushed past her sister. Rushing inside the home she looked around for the bathroom to clean herself up. Of course she knew June wouldn't have done that on purpose, even if they fought from time to time but she just wasn't in the right place emotionally right now.

Looking in the mirror she sighed as closed the door. Sliding down the wall she laid her head back as she sat on the floor. Claire felt her emotions coming out and she knew this wasn't the best time. Hopefully no one would come in because the tears began to roll down her face as she sobbed. Leaning forward she brought her knees to her chest and crossed her arms over them. Laying her head down her hair covered her face as she cried.

@Vio @Baddamobs

 
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@SaberWolf @Fox of Spades

Hibiscus stood with her arms loosely folded underneath her bust, her eyes fixed on the portrait of Hazel. After staring at it for so long Hibiscus found her lips curving softly into a small smile. Hazel's smile seemed to be infectious, or maybe all of the brightly dressed people had somehow lifted Hibiscus up in a small way.

At the same time, Hibiscus couldn't help but feel angry inside that Hazel's life was cut so short all of a sudden. Her smile slowly wilted, and she felt her fingernails digging into the center of her palms. Not enough to draw blood, but the crescent marks in her flesh tingled angrily. She would have kept going on like that, possibly, if she hadn't heard some vaguely familiar voice addressing her.

"I guess I should feel a bit honored to ever see you outside of school. Though I wish it were a different situation."

As Hibiscus looked up at the offender, her expression remained unchanged. How difficult it was to resist rolling her eyes at her classmate and her persistent ways.

"Have you no shame, Siegrid?” Hibiscus asked, her voice mellow, yet surprisingly sweet for how indifferent she appeared most of the time. She rolled her eyes with a bored sigh, glancing around at some of the guests that had just arrived, eyes landing on one in particular as he approached. This boy looked just as rowdy as Sieg, and she had no doubt in her mind that he was also some sort of trouble.

"You must be glad to see me, this whole memorial is a real bummer." He mustered up a small smile before giving Hibiscus a nod. "I feel like I've seen you at school, but I don't really remember your name. August, I'm Sieg's friend. Crazy stuff, amirite?"

"Yep. It's almost like there's only one school we could possibly go to around here," Hibiscus replied, just a hint of a smile on her lips as she contained a chuckle. August's honesty about the memorial was refreshing, and it was a little amusing to hear someone be so lax about what was happening.

"Hibiscus Arora. Nice to meet you, I guess." Hibiscus said, her gaze lingering on them for a moment. "Crazy doesn't even begin to describe it, does it?" She said calmly, suddenly wearing a gaze that could pierce through their souls. And just like that, her attention was stolen by a scene that she had only just missed. Some girl ruined another's dress, and the other lashed out angrily. Something like that.

"Oh no. Someone's upset." Hibiscus said flatly, watching as the girl disappeared inside of the Pearson's home. Hibiscus looked over at The Pearson's, who seemed just as disturbed by the girl's outburst as everyone else, though they tried to hide it by wearing their broken, brave smiles. They were under the scrutiny of the community now, everyone watching them for the smallest reaction.

"Ugh. This really is a bummer," Hibiscus said so softly that she might as well have only mouthed the words. Without much acknowledgement towards August and Sieg, she made her way over to the table with all sorts of drinks. They were obviously homemade, with mint leaves and things like fruits and flowers decorating the surface. She scooped some into a disposable cup and began sipping on some fruity fusion. It was surprisingly bubbly, and held a mild fermented taste.

As she drank from her cup, she couldn't help but to watch everyone else and wonder if the person responsible would show their face tonight. If it was someone the Pearson's knew, or a friend of Hazel's. The thought alone made her feel sick, but Hibiscus couldn't stop thinking about Hazel, or who the potential suspect could be.
 
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@Sailor Moon @Fox of Spades

Sieg found it amusing how Hibiscus always called her by her full name. Not that it bothered her really, but it reminded her of how proper her grandfather always wanted her to act. And it made her seem older, which wasn't too pleasant. For some reason though, it was a bit more tolerable from Hibiscus, most likely because she was an attractive female. A soft chuckle escaped from the wolf's throat, but before she could answer the shorter girl, August appeared next to her and she rolled her eyes at his comment.

"You always mistake my disdain for happiness." She glanced at the boy, her eyebrow lifting as she frowned at him. "And yes, someone's death usually is a bummer. Now would you mind leaving me alone?" Although she and August, by the most basic of terms, were indeed friends, he was more of a nuisance. Sieg had met him a year ago before she had started masking her scent and he had caught a whiff of it, realizing immediately she was a werewolf. This of course made him think that he needed to 'guide her' since he was older and he pestered her until agreeing to be amicable.

Sieg groaned softly as she thought of the memory and her days hadn't been quiet at school since. She was about to attempt to speak to Hibiscus once more, there was just something about her cold demeanor that made Sieg want to try harder, but before she could, her ears were assaulted by some girl shouting and storming off. It seemed no matter the occasion, put a bunch of high school teens together and there was bound to be drama.

'This really is a bummer."

The wolf heard the barely audible statement before Hibiscus walked away towards the refreshment table. She thought for a moment that she would go after her and try to start up a conversation again, but with August there now, it was going to be a bit more difficult to get a word in. He was the puppy that always needed her attention, or anyone's attention really. She turned to the brunette boy and glared up at him.

"Why do you insist on interfering whenever I speak with a girl?"
She asked, folding her arms over her chest and huffing slightly. "There were several blondes in the hedge maze, why don't you go bother them?" Sieg took a deep breath, her arms unfolding to her sides as she balled her hands into fists. "Sometimes I think you're the younger one out of the two of us, you know that?"

Failing in making conversation with HIbiscus, Sieg was a bit annoyed with August's presence and brought her hand up to massage the bridge of her nose as a slight warmth began to grow behind her eyes. She needed to keep herself in check. It wouldn't do her any good to get upset over something so small, no matter how annoyed she was. It wasn't worth getting worked up over. She inhaled deeply before exhaling again, the warmth fading away and she glanced at August once more.

"Sorry, but you do know how annoying you can be, right?" Sieg glanced around then, seeing all the people that had arrived. She had seen the mayor's son arrive a few minutes earlier, and the local psychiatrist along with his...daughter? Sieg wasn't exactly sure what the girl was to the man, but there was something unsettling about both of them that she couldn't ignore. It made her muscles in her back tense as if she was going to be attacked. Regardless, she ignored the feeling and rolled her shoulders to try and relax. "Have you heard anything about how Hazel died?"
 
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L O C A T I O N : B U F F E T - T A B L E -------> C A R ---------------> I N S I D E - H O U S E
M E N T I O N S: J A C K ( @Baddamobs ), C L A I R E ( @Celestial Scorpio )

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Juniper after having made her way to the elongated table adorned with food lingered around it as she wasn't keen on chatting anyone up at the time. For the moment she wasn't in anyone's way, but as she was concentrating on the dull humming coming from the house's vents she began to tune out the rest of the world around her. Juniper wouldn't have noticed if anyone came to get food spaced out like she was, so when a stranger suddenly bumped into her side she flinched startled by it. Apparently he had been surprised by her as well because, due to the breach in concentration, Juniper could hear the rate of his heart beat quicken enticingly. The thumping was mesmerizing, and immediately the blonde could feel her rational start to leave her. Juniper's Hazel pupils dilated as her mind whirled and reeled, and she fought back the hunger. The part of her that was still sane was very much annoyed by the sudden lapse. After all, she had already drank not long before attending the memorial. Juniper closed her eyes and shook her head. She began to drum her finger against the table, a little rhythmic beat that an old friend had taught her, and focused her attention on that. Taking a deep breath she counted backwards from ten until she had regained control.

"It's fine." Juniper lied once again, but she didn't want to seem impolite. Truth be told she was annoyed with the entirety of the situation, but that wouldn't justify taking it out on him. She reminded herself that everyone here could be grieving in some way. With that thought her expression softened too. Then she noticed that he was looking at her for a bit too long, and she shifted uncomfortably. Fortunately, as soon as she noticed he had already moved on from whatever it was he found so strange and was holding up a napkin to her. Juniper's brows knitted together quizzically at the gesture, then looked down to see why exactly she needed a napkin. Oh. There was food there. With her chewed up fingers she merely flicked the watercress off her shirt, and it landed in the grass next to them. There was a small stain, so she absent-mindedly took the napkin from him and dabbed at her shirt to no avail. Eh. It'll come out later anyways..., the woman thought to herself. Looking back at the smaller man she mumbles a quick thanks. When he nervously tried to explain himself Juniper sighed quietly. "It's okay. I understand....don't...," she pauses for a moment noticing a woman with blonde hair approaching the two of them from Jack's side, " worry about it."

Juniper falls silent when the newest stranger finally reaches them, and immediately starts addressing the boy. Juniper doesn't feel particularly interested in the conversation, in fact she felt like a third wheel, but she listens anyways. What else was she going to do while just standing there? Judging by the girl's words it was easy for Juniper to piece together that the deceased must have been close with the boy. Leaning against the buffet table, she continues to drum her fingers casually and just observes her surroundings mindlessly. Juniper muses to herself when the girl suddenly makes note of her tattooed hand. Juniper tried not to make a face as her sight shifts to the hand the girl mentioned. On every finger there's a bold, black letter, and together they read her mother's name "Circe". Below that is intricate line work, similar to designs you'd see for a henna tattoo. Along with writing out her mother's name across her fingers, Juniper had gotten the design on her hand shortly after her mother passed hoping it would help her cope with the loss. It didn't, but she felt like it would be disrespectful to her mother if she stopped doing it.

"Thanks. The letters are actually drawn on with ink. The line work on my hand is real though." Juniper said a bit flatly, but the tone was modulated and pleasant non the less. Juniper watched the girl distance herself to a table close to them, and Juniper wasn't sure if that was the end of their conversation or if she just wanted to get off her feet. Not that it mattered, Juniper was fine with whatever. Juniper turned to face the boy again so she could inquire about his name, along with the other's, but it was pulled away before she could.

"Sorry claire let me hel-."

"You did that on purpose you bitch!"


The suddenness of the commotion and shout startled Juniper so much that she nearly jumped out of her skin. The excitement she felt from being startled, and those around her was enough to coax her fangs out fully. Juniper was in a bit of a pickle now, as she couldn't get them to retract with all the noise and confusion. The party was in an uproar over the sudden outburst for the moment both verbally and internally, and before Juniper could loose herself she fled the scene. Her laced up ankle boots carried her into the house. She passed the bathroom, sobs protruding outward from inside, passed Cassius, who was quickly excusing himself from the conversation he was engaged in, and out the front door. Juniper didn't stop until she was at the car several blocks away. Juniper's muscles convulsed and twitched from tension, and she pressed the palms of her hands into her ears as some inane attempt to block out all the noise. Mostly the large mass of beating hearts she wanted to tear her fangs into. Knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to curb the hunger this time around, she climbed into the back seat and yanked open the cooler full of bagged human's blood. Gripping a pouch she ripped off a corner, and downed it with no hesitation. When it emptied she tossed it behind her out the car door, and lunged for another. Greedy hands tear the next pouch open and she hungrily drains it of every last drop. It tasted sweet and tangy on her tongue, the thick liquid soothed her throat, and eased her soul. Her tight muscles began to relax, and a sigh of delight rang out from deep with in her.

Juniper finished another five blood bags before collapsing into the back seat and splaying out. Her feet sticking out of the door, but for the most part she was comfortable. It wasn't long before Cassius casually walked up the side of the car with a displeased expression gracing his features. Bending down he plucked three blood bags from the concrete and tossed them into the cooler with the rest.

"Make sure not to leave the bags out in the open. You never know when someone might walk by, or drive by. It's fine inside the car though, since the windows are tinted dark. Are you feeling better?"

"Much." Juniper propped herself up into a semi-sitting position, her hazel hues staring back into grey ones. Raising her forearm to her lips, she wiped away the thick layer of red fluid staining her lips and smearing it unto her cheek. Reaching into the cooler she pulls out container of disinfecting Clorox wipes and wipes away the blood from her face and arm. She makes sure to clean up any lingering mess, and then she freshens up with some lotion from her book bag, which she had previously left in the car. When all was said was done she smelled of Burgamot and Mandarin. The two left the car once again, and quickly returned to the party. Once they've returned the party seemed to have settle down and return to it's casual murmuring and groups. Cassius left Juniper's side to return to those he had left before, and Juniper began to wander aimlessly around the ground floor of the house. After wandering into their kitchen, She realized that all the windows in the house were still closed, and Juniper shook her head. "Evil is going to plague this house if they don't open up the windows soon." she murmurs to herself crossing her arms.
 
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Hibiscus' cold demeanor left August unfazed. The young man was used to a plethora of reactions (both good and bad), and while the girl responded to him in a cool and nonchalant fashion, nothing about her actions suggested she was annoyed by his sudden appearance. "Nice to meet you. I'd return the sentiment if we weren't meeting at a memorial service."

August wore a small grin on his face, noticing the same thing Sieg had noticed - Hibiscus was an attractive girl. This realization meant that he tried to put his best foot forward during their short introduction.

Sadly, she was there one moment then gone the next.

Some unfolding drama had whisked her away. August raised his eyebrows at the unfolding scenario at the buffet table then scrunched up his nose as a screeching girl disappeared into the Pearson home. What was a bit of spilled food in the wake of a murder? Trivial bullshit. That's what is was. "Sheesh, some people can be such drama queens. Save that shit for theater, we're at a memorial." He usually didn't care about what other people got up to, he liked being amused, but even he had enough class not to start a trivial shit storm here.

Would you mind leaving me alone?

August narrowed his eyes at Sieg. "Oi, that's no way to speak to a friend." He would have scowled at the younger werewolf, but after she brought up Hibiscus, he went for a haughty sneer instead. "Hah, I see how it is." Ignoring her statements about blondes and his age, he chose to swing an arm over the girl's shoulder instead. He wore a Cheshire-like grin on his face, "I definitely see what this is, little Sieg here has a crush - you've got good taste by the way. Don't worry, I respect the bro code."

He was used to bearing the brunt of Sieg's annoyance, so he did what he did best, and ignored it with a show of blithe ignorance. He was aware of course, but he had grown wonderfully skilled at hiding his awareness.

"Like I said, don't worry. You've got my full support." He pulled away and gave her a hearty tap on the back before reverting to a more serious demeanor. "Aw, geez. I didn't ask for the gory details. Bro bro filled me in though, ass that he is." August paused to run his hand through his hair. Hazel didn't deserve what she got. "He said it was pretty bad, looked like some animal had gotten to her. Do you know anything?" He paused. "Let's talk about it by the table, yeah? We don't want her folks to hear, can't imagine how fucked up they feel 'bout this."

Not liking the heavy feeling in his chest, he tried to change the tone.

"Listen, why don't we sit with your crush instead? We can eat a little and ride this memorial out? Maybe talk about it when the Pearsons aren't here." Again, he usually didn't care, but this situation was different.

August locked arms with Sieg and led her to the buffet table. He sat down opposite to Hibiscus, and without consulting Sieg, began to talk. "Soo, Hibiscus. How long have you known Sieg? I don't think I've seen you around a lot..." August trailed off as his eyes flitted to another familiar face - Hazel's boyfriend, Jack.

He hadn't noticed it earlier, but that was most definitely Jack. The poor guy had gotten himself involved in the earlier drama, huh? August stood up and motioned for the other boy to join them. "Yo, Jack, right? You okay over there? We were grabbing some refreshments and food. You can join us if you like, you look like you could use some company."

@SaberWolf, @Sailor Moon, @Baddamobs
 
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