flashback

who: drew and chloe
where: her asylum
when: 2 years ago

WHO: Grayson and Kayos.
WHERE: Out and about.
WHEN: Another time, another place.

Who: Dean
Where: England - school and home
When: July 07

Dean sat with his legs stretched out in front of him, his head resting back against the dark wood-panelled wall as he stared up at the ceiling. Cooling his heels outside the headmaster's office again - he practically had his own chair there by now, not that he gave a damn. He had a migraine - he could hardly see, the pain was throwing up little blooming spots of light across his vision. But his physics teacher hadn't given a damn about that, deciding that it had just been a tactic, a play to avoid the trouble he'd got himself into this time.

who: kayos and grayson
where: underground 'bunker' aka: a burned out church
when: in a land far far away

Who: Hunt and Kayos
Where: Away
When: Far, far away

who: pandect and kayos
where: his clinic
when: another time, another place

Who: Doc and Pandect
Where: Outside Bethesda, Maryland
When: Evening (also 1982)

There was, as always, a job to do. Very rarely was there ever not one, in fact, but that was the way life went when you were part of a war pack. Doc and his partners were always on the move, always correlating data and news reports to glean where the next bout of trouble was going to hit. Sometimes it was the Enemy, the people whose names they didn't even use, but just as often it was any number of other supernatural presences out there. Really, someone was always overstepping their bounds.

Who: Domino & Jules
Where: Mya's Diner
When: Late Summer

Another summer in Marquette, only this one had ended a bit less happy that those she'd remembered. Jules' Grandmother had passed away and she'd just buried her not three days before. This summer sucked. She needed to get out, away, and definitely need to get something into her stomach before she too suffered a fate like her grandmother, only hers would be from starvation instead of old age.

Test post - Please ignore!

Good Friends Will Bail You Out Of Jail...

Who: Geo and Sammy
Where: Skokie, Illinois
When: April 12, 2006.

...but best friends will be sitting right next to you saying "Dude, we screwed up."

Six O'Clock, PM.

This was not how George Williams had expected to spend his evening. Or his afternoon. Or, truth be told, his ever. His eye stung, his jaw was numb, and he was fairly sure his lip was swelling. He could still taste blood, and his ribs ached. The hard, metal bench he was sitting on didn't help matters much, either, but at least there was a wall at his back. He leaned against it, baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes, and glowered at the floor, doing his best to ignore his surroundings.

Easier said than done, when his surroundings were a metal cage, a brick wall and a cold, hard floor. Easier said than done, when the causers of his misery were in the next cell over, and the cell on the other side was a bunch of drunks. Easier said than done when a were's enhanced senses - on overdrive from the afternoon - told him every time someone shifted, paced, moved.

He could hear his cellmate's breathing - and that part was ok. That part let him know that said mate was still alive - which was the whole point of this anyways, yeah? Didn't mean he wasn't gonna get his ears chewed off for this once they were out.

Oh no. Certainly not that. He grumbled to himself, crossing his arms and still glaring at the floor.

Who: Alejandro and the Mourning Star
Where: A secluded beach a few miles outside Seaside, Oregon
When: Late afternoon, August 17, 2007 (Flashback)

The screaming had finally stopped, but Alejandro was really more disappointed than relieved. He'd gotten a long list of names out of Marianna's father before he'd stopped caring about information and just focused on the punishment-- Nicholas Young wasn't going to be hurting anyone again, much less his fleeing, frightened daughter-- and he was nearing the end. Every one of them had, had something to do with tracking Marianna down, had taken a bribe or a favor or actually knew the truth and just didn't care. Every one of them deserved it, and then some.

Alejandro wasn't entirely sure what this one had done, though. He was a young police officer, pretty low down on the rungs, but very dedicated to the job. Maybe he'd been promised a promotion for catching the pretty little girl who'd run away. Maybe he knew Nicholas personally and was doing him a favor. Maybe he was one of those bastards who did know the truth. He was involved; that was enough for Alejandro.

Who: Mathias and Rachel
Where: Chicago
When: Late summer, 1995

It had been a home-coming to remember - he'd called her from the airport, the moment he'd landed and she'd been waiting for him by the door as his taxi pulled up. It felt like he'd never been away, even though he hadn't seen her in nearly four months and he'd pulled her into his arms in the doorway and kissed her like there was no tomorrow. Now, several hours later, they were sprawled in her bed as the sun set, naked and sated, Mathias half way through a cigarette as Rachel propped her head on his chest and ran her fingers through his hair and they talked about nothing and everything.

Who: Seven and Evan
Where: Somewhere in Minnesota
When: About a year ago

The sky was cloudless and the moon bright as he came across vague signs of civilisation - a large farm. He wondered what he'd find - hopefully a car and some gas, he was sick of walking, though what was the likelihood they'd have anything they were willing to sell? Maybe they could just give him a lift to the nearest town. He'd had a bike at one point, but the tank had only been half full and it'd stopped miles from anywhere, then the car he'd picked up had broken down in a very permanent way, so he was back to being on foot.

He approached the farm carefully - it seemed quiet and he had the benefit of being at least half-demon - though that sometimes caused more trouble than less - but he wasn't looking for trouble unless, of course, it was trouble he could handle on his own. But that wasn't trouble - that was fun. It became apparent very quickly though that this wasn't a normal type of 'quiet'. This wasn't an 'everyone's asleep' kind of quiet. This was very clearly an 'everyone's fucking dead' kind of quiet - the first body he came across screamed that loud and clear. It had something to do with the fact that his guts were strewn over a wide area and his head was missing. That always gave it away.

Who: Seph
When: 2 1/2 years prior
Where: The Whalestoe Institute, somewhere in Nevada

It was cold, everything was cold, why did they keep it so goddamn cold in here? Seph had tried to strip the bed, but they had the sheets tied down under the mattress somehow. Probably so he wouldn't try to hang himself with them. The damn thing was so heavy, and with the straps and everything ... tugging only made his fingers hurt. He didn't want to be up on the bed, no, that was too exposed. Too out in the open, too out ...

He was huddled up underneath the bed, curled in on himself, back pressed against the painted cinderblock wall. Seafoam green, a wretched color. It was supposed to be soothing. The clothes they made him wear were too thin, it was too cold. Too fucking cold. He would always be cold, be cold until he died. Here, in this place, in this room. Like so many others.

Supernatural Affinity
Species/Group: Half-Demon / Half-Scrios and Half-Human
Powers: Telekinesis - level 5, Glamour - level 2, Physical perks - level 0