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Recruitment thread

Life had always been quite about the little town of Meridian. A small settlement were everyone knew everyone. The limits of the town sat nicely between some fields to the south, and thin forests to the other three directions. The main road lead north/south right through the middle of the town, called Indian-Meridian, for which the town was named. Another road crossed east/west just at the southern edge of town, Triplet diagonal. A few miles to the west of Meridian was the small family farm that Chase lived and worked on. One of many that filled the area.

It was late spring, near summer. The grasses of the open pastures were starting to dry from the normal heat of the time of the year. Leaving brown spots in the green, spots that the cattle and other livestock mostly avoided. The sounds of mighty tractors and dust filled the air. It was planting season. The farmers were getting another crop in the ground to be harvested later that fall. Chase, who had just finished a field, was riding down the road on his brown and white mare, named Stars for the mottled pattern across her shiny coat.

He often road to town on Stars, rather then driving. As the small town was rather close, and most people around here owned horses, it was no big deal. Kicking up dust as Stars galloped down the dirt road, they soon turned into Meridian. The mares speed reduced to a simple walk. The blonde man tipped his light tan hat in greeting to a few folks as he passed, on his way to the local general store located on the main road. Once there, after dismounting, he would commence tie Stars’ reins to a post on the porch.

There was a rumble like thunder in the distance, despite the clear late spring skies. There was nary a cloud in the open blue skies to warn of a coming storm, but on the dusty roads there was a giant cloud of dust kicked up by two wheels and a metal frame shining in the sun. The sound of thunder grew louder and became more distinct as the roar of a motorcycle as the sound began to get closer to the normally quiet town of Meridian.

Atop the bike was Dorian. The wind’s fingers ran through his hair and caused his leather jacket to press against his body tighter as he down the dirt roads and through the vast fields across the countryside that he found himself a quest in. He had been back in the country for four months, yet he could not seem to get enough of the sights of Her beautiful land and the sounds that he had taken for granted. After being a child of the open road, he was looking for a place to spend the days in quiet bliss and his nights in sweet tranquility working on his Harley and perhaps earning a few bucks working on some cars or hogs. The fields swaying blissfully at the wind’s will soon gave way to a more domestic scene, as Dorian rode into a quaint town that seemed to be the perfect slice of Americana.

Dorian slowed his bike down to a sputter and pulled along the side of the road as he made it into the town or Meridian, the sound his hog made dying down and peace settling over everything once more. The motorcycle left a cloud of dust in its wake that it stirred up from the road, but even that was beginning to settle itself down again. Dorian switched the ignition off and stood, his dog tags hanging low on his chest. Despite spending most of his life in the sunlight, he had an out of place paleness to his skin that seemed unsettling. He took his time and moved his gaze up and down the shops of the Main Street, seeing if any of the buildings had what he was looking for.

Elias, May, Heather and Ryan stood at the Circle K. They watched the cars pass through the gas station, punching one another for various colors or designs. They had biked here to buy snacks. They ate those pretty quick, and now they were here with their bikes in a pile, hitting each other over cars.
They wondered where Neveah must be, and made jokes about her and her boyfriend. May was partially offended, but she didn't dare to speak up. She sighed heavily and squinted up at the clouds. "That cloud looks like a bird," She said quietly.
"That one? How?" Ryan murmured, squinting up at the sky.
"You see, that's its beak," May explained.
"I don't see it," Ryan murmured.
"I do. You're blind," Heather said.

"Woah Girl!"

Chase called out as Stars whinnied and started to rear up. The mare had been frightened by the loud noises caused by the motorcycle. Luckily the sound had died down, so all Chase had to do was calm the horse. Easier said then done. He grabbed the reins as the came undone from the post he had tied them on just as she reared again. He held his hands up, trying to calm the horse. Yet she yanked the reins from his hands and took off galloping back down the road towards his farm.

"G'sh darn 't!"

He shouted, after running after her for a moment. He stopped in the middle of the road, staring after her. Now he would have to find another way home. He knew Stars would be there when he got there, but getting there would be another story. On horseback, or in a truck, it wasn't to far, but walking would take forever. He sighed as he took his hat from his blonde hair, and looked around. He saw a group of kids at the gas station just a little ways down the road. He also looked back to see the man and motorcycle that caused his horse to run off. He wasn't mad about it, because the man looked like he wasn't from around here. Well, might as well make use of the time he had in town anyways.

Dorian heard the sound of frantic whinies and turned his attention to the panicked mare and her rider. His brows furrowed and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly at the scene, but he tried to approach the mare as well, holding out his hands in a friendly gesture to appease the animal, but to no avail. The horse still ran off, leaving her rider in the middle of the road with no place to go. He wasn’t very good with animals. He turned to face the rider, a man with the appearance of a cowboy.

“Sorry about your horse,” Dorian spoke. Despite his rugged appearance, he had a smooth voice and seemed rather apologetic, if not a bit easy going.

“Didn’t mean to startle him,” Dorian turned to look at the jovial group of children for a few seconds, his eyes locked on them like a cat’s eyes would lock on a group of innocent baby birds that would be none the wiser if they were being watched. He forced his attention away from them and back to the man.

“The horse won’t run off, will it?” He asked, hoping he wouldn’t have to pay for a new steed for the man.

"Naw, she'll j'st g' back t' th' farm."

He replied, his voice thick with the classic southern drawl. He Put his hat back on his head, turning to face the pale man in the leather jacket. He held his hand out for a friendly handshake. For no reason really, it was just polite.

"N' h'rd feel'ns. N'mes Chase."

He said, introducing himself to the biker. In all honesty, he didn't mind the rugged dark appearance of the man, who was apparently part of the army. Chase had only just noticed his dog-tags. Though being a werewolf, in secret, Chase had an open mind.

Dorian nodded once and looked in the direction the horse ran off in. The air was dry and thick in this part of the country, but even with just a faint breeze he could smell almost everything that the town had to offer and then some. He stared in the distance for a few seconds more as he allowed his senses to become more accustomed to his new surroundings before facing the man, Chase, and looking down at his outstretched hand. He took it in his own and gave it a firm shake.

“Dorian.” He replied, looking around once more at the buildings that adorned the Main Street of Meridian. His brows perked and he released Chase’s hand before scratching the stubble on his chin “Hmm, I suppose there isn’t a place around these parts looking to hire, or at least hire out of towners?”

Fyonae leaned with unamused boredom on the counter of her small curiosity shop. The shop, littered from head to toe with things both largr and small, bright, and seemingly lackluster, one could at first feel like they were wandering into a junkyard. Yet upon further inspection of each and every item within, one would find something that set it apart, something that would perhaps draw you in or speak to you.

Often her wares were used as decoration, sometimes for practical things though that was more rare. Most often, her items became of sentimental value, or bought by collectors or those that were curious about the world, as Fyonae was.

Some of the items were even carved by her own skilled hands. Soft though they seemed, on the underside one could find the telltale calouses brought about by working her carving knife for hours on end. Each wooden creation was fashioned from unique pieces of driftwood she'd collected from near the lake, or perhaps a branch fallen within the forest. Each creature, or imitation of some form of nature, seemed to almost twist with the barest hint of life.

Drumming her fingers on the counter, Fyonae pondered her poor business of late. Perhaps it was the war, so distant, yet who's effects had a far reaching grasp. Most folk didn't want to spend money on what they deemed was now a frivolity, and Meridian wasn't a large town to begin with.

Sighing, Fyonae was contemplating closing early and going out for a ride when she heard the roar of a motorbike, and a whinny outdoors, her light hazel green hues darting to the window even as she moved to the doorway to peak out, ever curious. A newcomer in town? How interesting, it wasn't often that Meridian got visitors.

Clad in a light summer dress of soft green, Fyonae wore her red orange hair down around her shoulders. A smattering of freckles could be seen on her face, and she wore soft flats on her otherwise bare feet. Usually she preferred to leave them bare, but while in the shop, she often opted for simple shoes. A curious necklace hung about her neck, short and resting in the dip of her throat was a wolf figurine, carved from a small dark piece of wood.

Keeping to where her shadow wouldn't fall upon the road, Fyonae stood on the porch of her shop, and watched unabashedly as a farmer greeted the newcomer. Staring wasn't something she usually felt bad about.

((Given the law of the land i the 1960s, Aaron and Jazz are probably still together, but Jazz dating Her wife in secret to anyone who isn't Aaron, and similar with Aaron and his WifeTM.))
The kids, they were bored. They had heard the moter cycle not too far off, but they hadn't seen it. They probably would've been pretty excited if they did, but they hadn't so they weren't. They were tossing around activity ideas, and pointing out obscenely shaped clouds.
"Lets throw rocks at cars," Heather suddenly said.
Elias winced, "Let's not," He said.
Heather was already picking up a rock. Elias didn't hesitate to punch it out of her hand, much to Heather and Ryan's offense.


Else where, four adults sat in a room. They glanced to each other, wide eyed and pale faced. It was as silent as death, their neighbor's infant could be faintly heard crying from the next house down. They didn't want to speak, they barely wanted to think.
Aaron had woken up in the flower garden, as he did almost every morning after a full moon. Later, their neighbors knocked to ask about the mauled cat in their drive way. Aaron took it badly. He was usually good at not bringing home dead animals, but he must've slipped up that night.
"Aaron, sweetie, maybe it wasn't you," Opal said, gently gripping his had and pulling it to her lap. She was trying to be helpful, but Aaron became even paler.
His voice shook as he spoke, "I hope it was me, to be quite honest. I-I don't want to think about another werewolf this close to my house," He said, "Especially if they're dangerous."
Jazz nodded, "I really don't either," she said quietly. She looked to Juliet, "Did Bobby report anything about strange beast sightings?" She asked.
Bobby was Juliet's police friend, and possibly Elias's father. Nobody really talked about that fact, as it wasn't important and nobody really cared.
Juliet shook her head, "Not that I know of," she said.

Dorian felt the hairs on the back of his arms stand straight as he the townspeople started to become aware of his presence. He was very attuned to the fact that he drew a crowd, in both small towns and big cities. Whether it was because of his hog or because of the dog tags around his neck, people buzzed around him eventually like bees to honey. Which was what he wanted to get away from in all honesty. His eyes flickered to the figure standing on the porch. He could feel her curious gaze burning a hole in the back of his head.

She looked like some of the girls from the cities he had traveled to. Spirited and free, a soul as wild as the nature that surrounded the town. They opposed the War with a fierceness as savage as nature too, and to the girls from the city Dorian represented the War when he first came home after being discharged. Spat at and harassed as signs were shoved in his face while he tried to find any place he could to work or even sleep, but no one was hiring a kid straight out of Vietnam. Straight out of the jungle, where the weather was so hot you could feel the blood boil in your veins. The blood was so much redder over there too. So plentiful, never ending, always pouring...

Dorian bit his tongue hard and turned his head away from the woman quickly, trying desperately to force his mind into the present day once more. It felt like all the blood rushed to his head at once and his mouth felt dry. He pushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes and he looked down the road.

“Looking for a new town.” He continued, not waiting for the farmer to answer his first reply, “Place to start fresh. Kinda a chance to start over with a new face. Need a job though. Anywhere hiring?”

Lingering on the porch, Fyonae didn't blink when the stranger gazed at her in turn. Something about the man sent a chill through her, and she knew if her shadow were currently visible, the wolven shape of it would have its hackles raised. Yet something about him intrigued her and drew her as well... much like finding a new item for her curiosity shop, she wanted to find out more about him.

Then her gaze moved to the farmer who stood beside him, and a flicker of recognition ran through her. It was a small town, and even though she usually kept to herself on her time off, she couldn't help but at least be familiar with the faces that dwelled nearby. He seemed a friendly enough sort, and she remembered hearing the charming heavy country accent before, yet she couldn't remember his name.

Glancing up at the sky, she judged the hour to be nearing noon. Her stomach growled as if in expectation of lunch and she thought perhaps she could venture safely out for a quick conversation, as shadows were minimal if seen at all.

Stepping lightly off of the decking she moved across the dusty ground to near the two men, having heard the newcomer's question.

"'Scuse me mister, I couldn't help overhearing your last comment, and I happen to know of a shop that is hiring ... down the street just four buildings, an employee of the mercentile just had a death in the family and is moving away. I expect the owner'll be looking for more help." She raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. "An if you're hungry, the diner serves a good meal."

With that she offered a grin, her gaze catching the dogtags around the neck of the stranger before she moved her gaze to the farmer. "I hope planting is going well for you?" She said, forgoing a greeting, but offering another easy going smile.

Dorian didn’t need to turn to hear the petite and pixie-like woman step away the safety of her porch and toward the two men. He could hear her soft footfalls land with a faint patter on the earthen road and Dorian could feel the warmth radiating off her body when the woman interjected herself between Dorian and Chase. He didn’t seem to mind much though, his shoulders were rolled back slightly and his stance was relaxed. His eyes seemed to fixate right on her.

Dorian’s aloof attirude didn’t seem to ever reach his eyes. They were far away, intense, scarred, and oddly so unsatiated by something that it haunted him down to his very soul. He held her gaze for a brief few seconds and nodded once, turning his head away from her and looking at the the store a few buildings down.

“I’ll have to see if it’s offering anything.” He answered and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, the corner of his lip twitching a little into a shadow of a smile “Sometimes jobs tend to disappear when I come on through... It’s a bit of a mystery.” There was a light bit of humor in his voice, but in reality it wasn’t very funny for soldiers being dischargered and injured coming home to nothing.

Chase was stopped from answering his questions as a woman came up to the two. He had seen her a few times around town, but she hardly ever left her shop.

"Howdy th're l'tle l'dy."

He said to her as she approached, tipping his hat to her out of politeness. He listened to her question about planting, and gave a smile. For a werewolf, he was unusually proud about being a farmer. Though, like said before, no one around here knew that wild part of him.

"'Ts go'n well. J'st got th' sec'nd fi'ld plant'd."

He said with his war smile. The young blonde haired man then turned his blue eyes to the other, the new guy. His mention of looking for a job was a lightbulb going off in the blonde's head.

"'F 'ts a job yer look'n for, my farm cou'd al'ays use a extra h'nd. Th't 's if ya d'nt w'nt ta work h're in town."

The boys were pretty much equal in height and stature, Chase had the advantage over him at the moment however, due to Dorian’s casual and slouched stance. He faced the blonde farmer and was just as focused on him as it had been on the young woman. His fiery gaze seemed to bore right into him, as if there was some sort of hunger hidden behind his carefully maintained facade. Dorian looked into the farmer’s blue eyes for a few seconds more before tilting his head up and squinting at the sky.

“Working inside seems fine.” He admitted with a bit of longing in his tone, as if he didn’t just stare down the two before him. Instead he returned to his carefree attitude, observing the town’s sights and evaluating the view. Did anything just happen? Was that intense stare real? Better not to dwell on such things, it was there and gone so fast, it could have just been the trick of a hot spring sun.

“I like working with my hands,” Dorian admitted and rubbed his chin slowly, “I don’t know if I can sit in a shop all day. I like to keep busy. Keeps my mind occupied.”

"We really need to find a better way to go about this," Jazz said.
Aaron looked to her curiously.
"I mean we need to find a better place for you during full moons. We can't just throw you out and hope for the best," she said.
"I agree," Opal said. "One of these days you're going to get killed because of that," she said quietly.
Aaron nodded slightly, mostly disagreeing out of the lack of places for him to go. "Where would I go?" He vocalized his thoughts. There wasn't anywhere safe for him to go. Opal had suggested her basement before, but that was dangerous to her and compromising to all of them. There were already accusations of cheating against him put up by Winnie down the road. She was, in legal technicality, right, but this was an agreed upon thing for all of them! Not that anyone knew that, nor could, if someone found out about Jazz and Juliet, that could have horrifying results.
"My bas--"
Aaron cut Opal off with a simple, "I said no the first time."
Opal nodded slightly and looked down.
Jazz sighed softly and leaned back into her hair. She ran her fingers through her hair and squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think of something.


The kids were making their way to the McDonalds by now. Ryan had went on about a friend he had who worked at McDonalds, and could possibly hook them up with something free.
They rolled their bikes across the street and tossed them into another pile on the opposite curb they had been on. They walked into the building almost suspiciously.
Ryan waltzed up to the counter and looked around for his friend while May, Elias and Heather hung back at the door.

It wasn't in her nature to shift or squirm when the object of scrutiny, as she had been moments before as the stranger pinned her with his ... empty gaze. She hadn't blinked, nor looked away first as she boldly met that uncanny stare with her own hazel green eyes which seemed so opposite of his - warm and full of life.

Though her curiosity about the newcomer was growing with every moment, so was her danger sense, and as the man shifted his attention to the blond farmer, pinning himnwith the same stare, Fyonae watched with sudden misgivings. But she wasn't one to talk. She had her own secrets, her own strangeness to contend with.

Flashing another light smile at Chase as he answered her question, she gave a nod. "Sounds like you're ona roll then." She glanced back at her shop, then up at the sky. Finally she turned back to the other two and shrugged, "well I gotta go get some food. My stomach is talkin to me." She said it jokingly, yet she was beginning to become famished. Missing a meal was nearly out of the question with her, as it would leave her weak, tired, and very cranky. She hadn't figured out why food was so important yet, but like everything else about her changes, it was out of her control.

"The diner serves amazing meatloaf." She mused aloud, sweeping her gaze across the two men before dipping her head and turning to walk lightly back to the safety of the porch, who's overhang would keep her shadow from presenting itself to prying eyes. She'd satisfied a bit of curiosity with her impromptu conversation, yet it still burned within her and she resisted the urge to glance back as she moved easily down the decking of a row of shops and markets toward the diner, the skirts edge of her light green dress swaying around her calves as she walked.

The lazy breeze knocked loose a few strands of his dark messy hair as he listened absent minded to the young woman speak. He looked around, trying to spot the diner she was seemed to be very eager about. Dorian pushed his thumb down into the pocket of his jeans but allowed the rest of his four fingers the freedom to drum against his outer thigh wistfully.

“Thanks for the advice,” he nodded his head to the girl and gave her a brief glance, “Don’t have much cash on me these days though.” He answered coolly and shrugged, “Besides, I don’t eat much.” He watched the woman return to the safety of her porch before disappearing along the buildings to the diner. His eyes never left her, his sight being drawn to her hair as if by some sort of instinct. Perhaps it was the way it bounced and swayed as the petite woman moved and skipped around so swiftly, or it was the way the orange almost seemed to have a coopery hue in the noon-day sun that made Dorian feel hunger start stirring inside of him. He only turned back to Chase after the young woman disappeared from view.

“I didn’t expect people to be so welcoming here,” he admitted to the farmer with a hint of a smile on his lips, motioning his head in the direction the young woman took off in “I don’t often get such a warm welcome, or such high prospects for an opportunity for work.” He admitted. The faint smile disappeared as quickly as it appeared, “Does that offer also come with a place to rest my head and keep my bike? I wasn’t lying when I said cash has been a big problem for me.”

Fyonae wasted no time in sliding into a booth at the diner, a relaxed sigh silently escaping her lips as she settled into the familiar space. She always sat in this booth, and the diner lady knew she always went for meatloaf or steak as a main entree. Fyonae rarely cooked at her own small apartment, situated above the apothecary, where there were one or two rooms let out. She'd moved in several years ago, and while she longingly eyed the cute and small homes on the outskirts of town closest the forest, she hadn't ever gotten enough coin for even a down payment. No, she worked enough to pay her bills, but spent the rest of her time enjoying nature. Her carefree spirit felt much too chained down while she was indoors.

It wasn't that Fyonae didn't have the skill to cook, no, she had grown up in a family that prided itself on its homecooked meals. Yet she felt too impatient to spend time over the stove. Idly twirling a few strands of her straight red orange hair, Fyonae found her gaze moving out the window, though she couldn't see the two men from her vantage point.

As her meal arrived and she practically inhaled it, she pondered odd feeling that hung around the newguy, and she realized she hadn't even asked him his name, nor shared her own. Well, that was probably for the best, as she doubted he'd be around long. Visitors didn't seem to care for the slow pace of life here, and moved in only a month or so's time, if they lasted that long.

Once finished with her meal, Fyonae flashed a smile at the woman behind the counter as she paid, a discounted rate because she often brought in wood or other natural spices and herbs she found out in the forest. Or perhaps it was mostly because the matronly woman felt Fyonae needed a mother's help every so often. The kind hearted and well-meaning woman found every opportunity she could to offer her advice to Fyonae, who did her best to be gracious as she listened, her gaze going longingly to the outdoors.

Despite her love of nature, Fyonae had precious little time to spend in it, for whenever she ventured out into the sunlight, she was at risk of spooking someone with her wolven shaped shadow. It didn't follow the normal patterns and laws of a usual shadow either, but bristled, laid its ears back, swished its tail, and even caused an uncanny growling sound akin to an angry wind when it was riled up - which directly corresponded to when Fyonae was riled up. No, Fyonae tried her best to keep her shadow under wraps.

Her thoughts going back to the last town she'd lived in, and her eventual and inevitable discovery, Fyonae found her good mood deserting her. That had been an unpleasant night of flight following an unpleasant day of spooked townsfolk that crossed themselves whenever they had seen her. Word travelled fast and soon Fyonae had been unable to spend her coin anywhere, much less find a job, and so she'd moved on.

She liked Meridian, and hoped to stay a good while longer. The people here seemed genuine and happy, despite the war and its clouds. Some had lost family members in the war, too, yet stubbornly maintained their calm strength.

Back outside, Fyonae stretched a bit as she lingered on the deck of the diner, her gaze going down the road, curious to see if the two men still conversed, before making her way slowly back to her own curiosity shop.