Every perfect intro every movie usually starts out with some montage of sexy muscle cars and even hotter characters. Well, there was the muscle car and Tate had enough of an ego. The problem being this particular event wouldn't show up on the big screen, though Nova certainly wished it. Anything would pass were it not real or effectively life threatening, as was their lives at the current. Much less, this particular muscle car looked like it came straight from a junk yard; Tate had suggested they leave their mother's Prius at the motel the town over and decided, on impulse, to buy the piece of crap they rode in now.
Sweet blend of summer and fall tinged the leaves of every Vermont deciduous tree a crisp trim of orange, red, and yellow. The coal of their muscled junker contrasted greatly with the crisp air feel, though the heat of a still technically summer day contributed to the groaning in the passenger seat. That or the springs poking into Nova's back along the less than ideal country roads struck her as a little more than uncomfortable. The same annoyed look found its way onto Tate's features with every bump they hit, though his excitement over a new car generally overcame the urge to trash it.
The thump of Nova's feet along the dashboard caught Tate's attention and, should this have been their mother's pristine Toyota, then he'd have half the mind to tell her off. Unfortunately, the car had enough going for it that a pair of smudges wouldn't hurt it any further. Or rather, that's what he thought before the air conditioner puttered out with the whirring of gears and a choked sigh. The heat came quick, as did the exasperated upset in Tate's voice.
"Really?" he growled.
"That was just a coincidence," Nova retorted, her face contorting as she shimmied into whatever comfortable position she could. She shot him a glare in return. "Just keep driving; I can see the town from here."
The urge to smack her upside the head only grew, but Tate resisted as it wouldn't be long before they could roll this piece of crap to the nearest mechanic. It'd likely cost a fortune to fix up and maybe he was willing to do so. Or maybe they were better off selling it for scrap and getting more than what that other guy wanted for it. Not that they spent actual money on it, or anyone else's. It might been on discount for a local criminal such as himself.
Not far into Montaville, Vermont, laid out in a manner befitting a small town, the siblings gladly pawned the car off to a local auto shop in exchange for a few hundreds they could spend on whatever manner of lodging and food befitted them. The disappointment that grasped Tate's expression only further frustrated Nova. Fortunately, that ended upon finding the nearest bed and breakfast, ran by what seemed to be a lovely pair. They did, however, seem to notice the bag of goodies slung over Tate's shoulder and the frown, though minuscule, was enough to put Nova off. Life of a hunter, especially one tied to a brother who hadn't the mind to better conceal their less than normal possessions.
After settling in, the two found their way down the strip of road that led to Montaville's own abandoned hospital. At least, that's what the locals called it. A few stories of it being haunted passed their ears, but nothing caught their interest other than the truth of it. Having a mix of witch and hunter blood aided in both siblings spotting the Victorian building, though Nova's affinity with the supernatural meant she caught wind of it first.
"What do you suppose we'll get outta this?" Tate wondered, eyes scrawling the layout of the college's campus. They fell onto Nova in wait for a response, to which she merely frowned.
"I don't know," she mumbled, passing through the gate to eye the few supernatural beings sprawled across the courtyard, "Some answers. And maybe a permanent residence again? I miss gran's cooking and cheap diner food is an awful substitute."
"You more than me," Tate replied, snickering at the quiet 'asshole' he received. He rubbed a hand over the span of his stomach, sighing at the rumbling upset it caused the closer to the school he got. That little bit of human in him, or that fifty percent human in him, most likely. Should this place be glamoured, there likely would be a few more insurances to ward away humans. Hopefully, that didn't mean his gut actually explode. Nova gave him a worrying look, to which he only smiled. "Thinking there might be more than just the glamour," he said, twisting his expression slightly.
Giving a nod as she advanced inside the building, Nova reassured him, "Likely. I'll fix you something once we get settled here. I don't suppose you'd want to catch a dorm."
"I've already gotten the college experience," Tate assured her, "It was fun the first few years, but getting the right roommate is a gamble. I could definitely live without all that stress again.."
"I guess you have a point," Nova said as she made her way toward the head office and the lone secretary sitting quietly at his desk, "Go find the cafeteria; we'll meet there. I'll get whatever we need here settled and after lunch, we can head to the library?"
"More research?"
"More research. And this time, with a database of actual, irrefutable lore at our fingertips. Exciting, right?"
"Oh, c'est bon," he sighed and with a roll of his eyes, he disappeared down the halls completely ignoring the flipped bird his sister gave him.
Approaching the line, Tate gave another sigh, this time in aggravation at the upset his stomach was currently making. There likely would be something to counteract it and his sister likely knew how to do so, seeing as she worked with wards and spells a numerous amount of time. However, she currently busied herself with entertaining the local folk and making her way through the building parading around in supernatural glory. Not that that was a problem, but for him and his nausea, it currently posed as an issue.
Finding food off putting, he only gathered enough for his sister and a snack for himself should he need it later. It wasn't until a minutes later did his sister finally arrive to Tate clutching the side of his head and groaning into the tabletop. She clapped his shoulder, approaching with a vial of some kind of concoction in her hand. He took it without pause and relaxed into his seat with an irritated scowl.
"What was that?" he finally thought to ask.
"Tryptophan with a dash of Viagra."
"Are you fucking—"
"It was just some herbs and honey to calm your stomach—nothing crazy, you ass. Here's some Sprite," she rolled her eyes as she handed him the drink.
"Ca viens?"
"Just the usual."
"Squat?"
"Shit all."
"Awesome."