[hr][center][sub][color=cecece]Bé[/color] [color=ea3333]《》[/color] [color=cecece]St. Portwell, Oregon [ The Hermit's Shack in the Woods ][/color] [color=ea3333]《》[/color] [color=cecece]Haunted[/color] [color=ea3333]《》[/color] [[@Aeolian]Bé, Marceau, Cousin Gisèle, The Hermit][/sub][/center][hr][table][row][/row][row][cell][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5515406][img]https://i.imgur.com/lYnRbBy.jpg[/img][/url][color=2e2c2c]▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇[/color][/cell][cell][quote] [color=8d8e8f] The memory came to him like an ominous wind that billowed madly from the skies. A young boy, ripe and blue-eyed, lay on a rickety old table. The voice overhead was feeble, like a blue-lipped ghost, drawn into focus by a flick of the light, and only then could he make out two eyes the color of horror and darkness. He tried to stir, to shake himself loose, but those empty, abyssal eyes held him steady. There were no chains; nothing corporeal bound him to that table other than the glare of those unnatural eyes. They were like ink. If he reached out, he could almost feel them stain his fingers. His gaze filled with a mist. The eyes were fading, but so was everything else... When Bé came to, salty beads of sweat had fallen onto his lips. He sat up, wiping them from his brow and forehead with a silk handkerchief pulled from his coat pocket. Marceau was driving while Gisèle sat quietly beside him, fidgeting with her phone, an exasperated look on her countenance. She turned to him, "You're awake. I can't get any signal out here..." They were driving through the forest on an old, dirt road. The brush had become overgrown and had it not been for Marceau's keen sense of direction, they surely would have gone off the broken path. Bé pulled out his phone, looking at it coldly, [color=a36209]"Likewise."[/color] As they trudged on, the moonlight that illuminated the forest seemed to dim, lost behind a veil of menacing shadows. His mother had warned him of this prior to his sudden departure from Paris. She had said, "When the moon disappears, you're almost there." It had been a rather tense couple of days leading up to D-day. He and his mother were not on speaking terms; they only shared curt text messages about how his preparations were progressing. Gisèle had certainly felt the distance that bloomed between them. Bé hadn't uttered so much as a word to her and the growing partition erected between like a Babylonian fortress knawed at her thoughts. Marceau tried to comfort her, to tell her that Bé would get over it eventually once the dust settled. But would he? Bé was not known to be forgiving, and any sense of betrayal was a grave offense to his personhood. Had she betrayed him by not fighting harder to contest his mother's behest? In any case, what was done was done, she relented. When they finally arrived at their destination, Marceau was the first to step out of the car. "What a dump." he said carelessly. Bé stepped out the SUV, followed by Gisèle. [color=a36209]"You should feel right at home then,"[/color] he responded cooly. Bé looked around. Through the thickness of the forest was a glade. The moon had come back from hiding and illuminated, at the center of the glade, an old two-story cabin made of worn, splintered wood. The windows were cracked, and a chimney atop filled the skies with warmth and smoke. He could make out the glimmer of candlelight from the bottom window closet to the front door. Why did this place feel, [i]familiar[/i] somehow? He had not been here before, surely. He would know if he had, and yet, the feeling of "home" pricked at his skin like a tiny, persistent needle. Had he imagined those shadowy eyes? It was likely but a dream he cared to soon forget. Once his mind had cleared itself of the intruding thought, Bé and Gisèle shared a queer gaze and then slowly set forth toward the shack. After one final, brief pause, Marceau knocked on the door. They could hear shuffling from inside the cabin, the jingle of chimes, and the rattling of stone on iron. When the door creaked open, an old man wearing a turban and loose cloth stood before them. He was short, no taller than 5'2". He had a full beard and appeared haggard and gaunt like a skeleton. His eyes were milky and white, though Bé could have sworn he recognized the shape and fold of his eyelids. Oddly familiar. The entire house held the redolence of boiling venison and other unfamiliar, highly unpleasant smells. The man inhaled fumes from a strange, ornate pipe balanced between his lips and blew out smoke right into their faces. Marceau smirked, amused at the greeting. Gisèle coughed, while Bé covered his nose, unamused. After a brief silence, Bé gathered himself once the reality of where they were had finally settled like a blanket of morning dew, [color=a36209]"Are you Salazaar?"[/color] Salazaar looked at them one by one, but his gaze remained firmly on Bé the longest. Those misty, silver eyes moved up and down Bé's silhouette as though he were analyzing his form for imperfections and cracks. "You've grown well." he finally said with a slight, almost imperceptible, upturn of the corner of his lips. Bé lifted an eyebrow, [color=a36209]"Pardon?"[/color] Salazaar chuffed, "Come in. You're letting out my heat." [center] [hider=NPCs] Salazaar the Hermit [img]https://i.imgur.com/hhe5LnZ.png[/img] Gisèle, Bé's Cousin [img]https://i.imgur.com/txSNzt9.png[/img] Marceau, Bé's Bodyguard [img]https://i.imgur.com/E3YCUO0.png[/img] [/hider] [/center] [/color][/quote][/cell][/row][/table] [hr][center][sub][color=cecece]Todd[/color] [color=ea3333]《》[/color] [color=cecece]St. Portwell [ Todd's Family Farm and Orchard ][/color] [color=ea3333]《》[/color] [color=cecece]Pained[/color] [color=ea3333]《》[/color] [[@Aeolian]Todd, Aunt Esadowa, [@Blizz]Stormy][/sub][/center][hr][table][row][/row][row][cell][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5515406][img]https://i.imgur.com/QEMSLIf.jpg[/img][/url][color=2e2c2c]▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇[/color][/cell][cell][quote] [color=8d8e8f] Life had taken a rather sudden and unfortunate turn for Todd as of late. He had not experienced a good night's rest since his partner's tragic murder at the hands of an unknown assailant, and every night, his crumpled form, balled up like an agonized fetus, convulsed and sodded the sheets in sticky sweat. He'd wake up screaming and clawing at his chest until his sister, the eldest of his family, Esadowa, would rush in to comfort him with one of her specialty sleep tonics she called Lull. After a certain point, Todd would find himself in the basement, having slipped through the floor in his sleep after another horrific night terror wreaked havoc on his psyche. And so, because he could not find peace at night, he spent his waking days preoccupied with a million-and-one tasks to complete. If he was not tending to the garden, then he was working to repair the roof, and if he was not doing that, then he was building a new bookshelf to accommodate his daughter's ever-growing book collection and so on and so on, as the days seemed to drag with his heavy gossamer heart. Aunt Esadowa had left her luxury high-rise in Seattle to return to the farm and assist her mentally ailing brother, who, with each passing day, seemed to lose himself more and more. But in a family of workaholics and busy bees, Aunt Esadowa was almost certain Todd was the most hardworking of them all. But even for him, this was...extreme. It wasn't until he received a call from Auri about coven murders that it all started to click. What began as nothing but a blip of a thought, festered like a wild and untamed weed, until the idea took root and could not be dislodged no matter how much he tried. Once he was sure of himself, he pulled his sister into the greenhouse after supper and confessed. [color=fff200]"I'm going back to the coven,"[/color] he said, determination emanating from his eyes. His two children were playing outside, so Esadowa shut the door quietly so as not to alert the them and turned to him with furrowed brows, "What?" [color=fff200]"I'm going back to the cov..."[/color] he repeated. Esadowa put her hands up like a protesting mime, "No no, I heard you. I just...do not understand why you would go back at this point in your life. You have children." Todd stepped away from her, picking up a pot of soil, and began tending to the sprouting that crested slightly from the surface. He spoke softly, [color=fff200]"Yes. And that is exactly why I have to return."[/color] He paused, turning over the soil with his fingers before continuing, [color=fff200]"I didn't tell you this before, but I received a call. Former coven members are being hunted and murdered like cattle. I cannot sit idly by and wait for someone to come after me next."[/color] His sister followed him over, standing on the opposite side of the table so she could face him, "That is serious. But what about your children? Will you just abandon them for your old...[i]friends[/i]?" [color=fff200]"That's why I need you to stay here, at least for a while longer, just until I can help them figure this all out. My staying here, near my children, puts their lives at risk just as much as it does yours. I can protect all of you if I leave and stop this psychopath."[/color] Esadowa went quiet for a moment. This was not an easy request to spring on her so suddenly. A few weeks off was one thing, but who knew how long this would go on for. Weeks, months, half a year? She had her life, a career, and a wife back in Seattle that required her attention. She couldn't just compromise her current obligations, could she? Should the children come stay with her in the city? Todd looked out toward his children playing on the old family swing he'd repaired last summer, and a thick, heavy tear fell down his cheek. He wiped it away on his sleeve before turning his gaze back Esadowa, his countenance all the more grave with desperation. [color=fff200]"Esa, [i]please[/i]. I have to do this. I have to. Let me keep you all safe. [i]I need this[/i]."[/color] After a heavy silence, Esadowa sighed. "Okay, let me make some calls," She relented, crossing the table to hug him warmly. That was all Todd needed. He was sure he was making the right decision for children. At the very least, he hoped so. That night, Todd called someone he had been very close to within the Old Coven, someone who felt like a true brother. The call went straight to voicemail, so he left a message instead. [center][code] "Stormy, my friend, it has been a long while since we've seen each other, hasn't it? I'm sorry that I am only now returning. *There was a brief silence* My wife is dead. Nova is dead. I...I don't know what else to do other than to come back and help put an end to this madness. I have to protect my children. It's the only way. Please call me when you're able. Can we meet? Perhaps with the other members? At least...those who can. I'll do everything I can to help. I've missed you all, my friend. Let's put an end to this. [/code][/center] [center] [hider=NPCs] Aunt Esadowa, Todd's Older Sister [img]https://i.imgur.com/tKGV5PQ.png[/img] [/hider] [/center] [/color][/quote][/cell][/row][/table]