Hunters
Written by Jasmin.
48 posts.
22 years old.
crushin'.
I am Male.
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Post by Alex Harper on Jan 31, 2015 19:35:45 GMT
This town; there always seemed to be something off about this town. Growing up in it's streets, it's parks, it's preserve, it's school, there had always been something off, something wrong about the area. It wasn't something obvious either, otherwise Charles, or as he preferred to be called Charlie. He'd been determined to leave the forsaken place though and for a while, he had. But then his mother had died leaving him alone, no father, no he was gone, fled to the hills when he was born. He wasn't born alone though; he had a sister but his father... he'd taken her when she was born, his twin, his missing part was gone, stolen. So, it was safe to say that Charles was an anger driven person; revenge his sweet spot.
Being part of the force at the Beacon County Sheriff's Department was good for Charles. Nothing better than a bit of mystery to ease him through the day, only to then go home to an empty flat, an unmade bed, cold coffee and the own mystery of his father and sister's disappearance to keep him up at night. Not tonight though, tonight he was determined to not stoop to his normal, low level of misery.
He'd walk, walk through the streets for as long as he could until he grew bored or the weather dared turn cold, stupidly, he'd forgotten to take a jacket. Now though, now he saw someone approaching him, hair glinting beneath a streetlamp. Oblivious, in the best way a human could be.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 31, 2015 20:53:38 GMT
Her life? It was bittersweet. Everything she could have ever wanted was at the tips of her fingers, yet so far away. Cash? She had piles of it behind lock and key, for her family was no stranger to wealth. Fame? Yeah, it was safe to say that most everyone in town knew at least one of the Styles'. Be it her mother, who'd etched out a few books in her time- best known for her fictions on the supernatural, or maybe her father, the once great head chief of police, but retired to a life of peace and casual 'hunting'. They could know the infamous Theodore, her eldest brother who was no stranger to the women in town and the local pub. There was also the possibility they knew Samuel, the scholar among scholars who'd raced out of town to climb up the intellectual structure of Stanford- returning only during the peaks of holidays, though no one aside from the family was aware why. On the off chance that they knew of the Styles family through their close cousins, May and Boone, and uncle who was now the reining head of police- well, then they'd assume that the rest of the family were just as redneck (which wasn't the case, at all). There was a very slim likelihood that someone would stitch together Noelle with the well known name, though. She simply wasn't like the rest, not anymore, anyways. The once chorus spitting, drama-filled ballerina was nothing more than the student sulking in the back of the room. She'd had friends, more than she could count, and she had talent, enough to take her places, but one day she just receded into a shell and wouldn't budge. It was just the silent, cookie-munching blonde and her academics. So the bittersweet aspect of her high rised life was that she was utterly alone. Not a friend, and definitely not a truth entered her cone of seclusion. Her family, aside from big ole Sammy, was oblivious to the fact she was a hermit at school, and the students surrounding her in the halls had no idea what had happened to the little flower they used to call a friend.
Company? It was just out of reach, for she wouldn't allow her arm to stretch thar extra distance to latch onto someone she could trust simply because she was terrified of what could happen. Shrouded with lies and sunken with the fear of hurting someone during the oncoming full moon threatening within the next week, Noelle snuck out of her house (well, mansion, actually) and waddled down the midnight streets crowding her neighborhood. Hugging the leather jacket she may or may not have have stolen from Teddy on her way out of the house closer to her chest, she delved in its oversized warmth. Her legs were clad in some thermal leggings, torso just barely held together in a thin tank top she instantly regretted not changing out of, a beanie held her hair hostage and her feet were swallowed up in a charcoal pair of fluffy boots. Really, the only splash of color on her was her stark blonde hair, and the gentle brown hues of her sibling's coat- for everything else she wore was a gentle black, making the night effectively eat her whole.
This was a common thing, really, for her to crawl out of her window and walk the night like she owned it. It was truly the only time she could just be herself. A place where she could drop her walls and stop pretending she was content with the life of solitude she set out for herself. Somewhere she could curse to the sky and whine about how she wished that vile creature had just killed her that night in the woods rather than make her this, this monster. She hated who she was and how she had to hide it from everyone. She hated that Sammy, the only soul who knew, wasn't always there to keep her safe. She hated herself.
The only thing keeping her going was that she'd be graduating soon, and she could race from the scene just as her brother had. If she stuck around any longer, she'd spill- tell mom, dad, and Teddy the thing she'd become. That the little girl they'd adored had become what they hunted, she was what went bump in the night.
That was it, Noelle couldn't take it anymore. She screamed, a low growl underlying in her distressed cry. It wasn't loud, just enough to stir the birds slumbering in a nearby tree. Halting in defeat, she hung her head low, body leaning against the lamppost as its light spilled over her. She just wanted to fall into someone's arms, sob and just let go all that she'd kept bottled up, but she couldn't do that. Not now, she'd just have to corner Sam in the morning, since he was the only one she could actually talk to- and she knew that it hurt Teddy knowing that something was up and she wouldn't tell him, but she couldn't risk it. He'd do something stupid. So for now, she was just sighing, not allowing any tears to skim down her face as she held herself tighter. God, she hated winter.
Just as she decided that she better head home before her dad stirs and races out of the house with a gun in hand, ready to take down any supernatural being that may have taken his only daughter, she heard a crunch any normal human wouldn't have heard. It didn't scare her, nothing really did, but it made her aware that she wasn't alone. Slowly, she turned in place, her agility something unnatural, but she skillfully played it off as something granted with years of ballet whenever someone questioned it. Never did she outright say 'oh that? yeah, I'm just part cat'. She'd rather not be shot down or put in a mental hospital. Keeping her actions gentle, she held herself tighter and scanned the darkness for the figure. Spotting a man, she just smirked and gently called out, her voice strong yet sweet, "Hey?"
Seems Noelle had a thing for meeting strange men in the middle of the street at night. Who'd have thought?
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Hunters
Written by Jasmin.
48 posts.
22 years old.
crushin'.
I am Male.
|
Post by Alex Harper on Feb 1, 2015 17:27:31 GMT
Ah, a young girl, out alone at this hour. Who ever in the world thought that was a good idea? Not that Charles was that kind of guy, no, he was much more into justice but it was curious as to why she'd been let out. Or maybe she'd left, escaped her own home, assuming she had a home that was. Stopping a few feet away from her, Charlie crossed his arms over his chest, not replying yet, he felt as if he should know her, or at least know someone who knew her. Wait, now he had it, her father had been head chief of police a few years back, just when Charles was starting to pursue the career. That was why she looked vaguely familiar.
"Who let you out of the house alone, Styles?" Trying to play the part of responsible grown up, Charlie went so far as to raise his eyebrows at the young blonde whilst a slow grin crept across his face. "Just kidding, I don't actually know your first name, just your father." Unless of course he was completely wrong about who her dad was, in which case this would be cripplingly embarrassing. Not that he'd ever let that show though, his mother had raised him to have a poker face when it came to uncomfortable things, such as when the postman would compliment her everyday even though she showed no interest in him.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 1, 2015 19:13:49 GMT
Oh, so he knew her name- well, only the last bit. Didn't make it any less creepy, though. She was tempted to dart off into the darkness, leave this man to his own troubles, but that wasn't the Styles way, now was it? No, they stuck around and fought, even if it was the worst thing they could do. Giving up wasn't in their vocabulary, so she stood her ground and hugged her chest tighter as a breeze tore at her clothing. A natural smirk was held in place on her plump, pink lips, her head tilted to the side in a cocky fashion as she found herself joking with the stranger. "I'm afraid I snuck out," she paused for a moment, her sarcastic tone halting as her eyes dragged up and down the man before it hit her- she knew him. Not personally, but she'd seen him around the station once or twice when she'd done a bit of work for her dad before he retired. "What are you going to do? Arrest me, officer?" Daring to step forward as she swapped her twist of lips into a gentle smile, she didn't threatened in his presence. He was a cop after all.
Deciding to go easy on him and not let her frustrations from prior make her unpleasant to be around, she offered him a quivering hand, the cold clearly chilling her to the bone. "Noelle, by the way," allowing a chuckle to brush over her lips as she explained, "And don't worry, I don't plan on causing any trouble. Just going on a midnight stroll."
She was oh so tempted to crack a joke about 'giving him another reason to put handcuffs on her', but she was fairly certain the cop wouldn't agree to her sense of humor.
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Hunters
Written by Jasmin.
48 posts.
22 years old.
crushin'.
I am Male.
|
Post by Alex Harper on Feb 3, 2015 20:11:08 GMT
Ah, a sneaker out, once upon a time Charles was tempted to be one but the very idea of his mother finding out that all of a sudden he was missing was enough to stop that idea right away. It was hard to deny that this girl had balls though, she was brave, especially for this time of night. Folding his arms over his chest, Charles took another quick look of her up and down. "Well first I'm going to make sure that you don't die or frostbite." Was that a thing? Could that happen, probably, now was not the time to question his own knowledge though. Offering her half a smile, one side of his mouth poking up before releasing one of his hands to shake hers.
"Charles or Charlie, I don't mind either. Charles has a habit of sounding pretentious though." Rolling his shoulders back, Charles released her hand, placing his in the back pocket of his jeans now, a casual stance. "Well, as it's late and I don't want anything to happen to you, I'll accompany you either on your stroll or back home." The choice was hers, he wasn't going to push it one way or another.
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