Xander's Cross, Oregon: a small town ringed with forbidding mountains and misty forest. The sky may be gray, but the townspeople are welcoming to people of all kinds...and things that are not quite human as well. Here the native shifters, aliens, werewolves, and witches live in peace. They have yet to find out the new business owners encroaching on the land are also vampires.
The peace has been broken by murder, however, and things in Xander's Cross are about to become quite a bit darker.
Welcome to your new home.
is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?
August 20, 2020
The mayor, Rowan Starkwood, was found dead less than a mile from his home. Rumors say his body was mutilated, but the state of the body has not yet been released to the public.
Post by Mason Garcia on Jul 27, 2020 11:44:52 GMT -5
Mason Garcia swirled a cloth across the counter-top in perfect circles, sighing contentedly as she watched the sun rise through the diner's front windows. The brilliant pinks that streaked the sky warmed her heart almost as quickly as the griddle fried pancakes in the kitchen behind her. The sun coming up meant the full moon would be down--and a herd of hungry townsfolk would be making their way to the diner. This time of month was always good for business--and for Mason's mood. A pair of regulars, Carter and Tyson sat at the end of the counter, grumbling over the day's newspaper and cups of black coffee. She tossed her rag back in the sink, grabbed the coffee off the machine, and beamed at the old men as she refilled their mugs before they could even think to ask. The cook rang the bell, and she snagged the finished pancakes from the window, bringing them over to the bleary-eyed deputy with an extra carafe of coffee she'd brewed extra-strong for him. Poor guy had been up all night, it looked like.
It wasn't until she was on her way back behind the counter that she overheard what Carter and Tyson were talking about: the mayor's death. That must have been what had kept the deputy up, too. A frown crossed her face and she turned to stare back into the sunrise, imagining what this must be like for Mayor Starkwood's widow and children. She couldn't imagine life without Sunday dinner at her parents' every weekend, let alone without seeing them ever again. She would have to find something nice to do for Mrs. Starkwood. Maybe some cookies? No, she was probably getting more funeral food and casseroles than she could stand. She'd have to come up with something else instead. Maybe the Starkwoods would need a furry friend to keep them company? She'd had a litter of kittens in the house all week, so one of them might be perfect... No, the younger girl, the dreamy one, had cats already. Well, she'd have to figure out something...
The waitress was startled out of her reverie when the bell over the door jingled, and she perked up quickly, giving the new arrival a bright smile.
"Welcome to the Full Moon Diner! Feel free to grab a seat wherever you'd like and I'll be right with you."
Post by Auggie Bishop on Sept 26, 2020 2:41:25 GMT -5
It was the chiming bell that snapped him out of his light doze where he'd drifted off, slumped in a corner booth, his back to the rest of the room, chin propped up in one hand, his umpteenth cup of coffee long cold. For the barest moment, he seemed confused about where he was before hearing the voice of the girl behind the counter. That's when he remembered. Actually, he'd found her voice soothing amidst the other sounds of the diner. Familiar almost. He and Asher had spent a lot of time in diners growing up. Whenever their mom could get - and hold down - a job for any length of time, it had been in places a lot like this. This was familiar. This was known. Well, inside, at least. Outside, however, was another story entirely.
There had been some intrigue on his arrival several hours ago, pulling up on his motorcycle, sporting a fading black eye and a healing scrape across his cheek. He'd trudged into the place with only a backpack and a notebook and been greeted politely by the night staff. After dismissing the curious stares as they took his order of "Just coffee" and his reply to a query about cream and/or sugar with "No, just coffee.", he had taken up residence in this booth. After his second cup, save for the occasional refill, he'd pretty much been left alone. He seemed in no hurry though he did occasionally glance up at the wall clock, idly twirling a pen in his hand. This he did again, turning in his seat to glance at the time, using the opportunity to stretch. Seeing the time, he turned his attention outside to see that, no it wasn't the brightness of a bustling city out there that he was used to, it was his first genuine rural sunrise. Joy of joys.
Patting his pockets, he seemed to search for something before turning to the leather jacket on the bench beside him. Turning it over, he rummaged until coming up with a soft pack of Pall Malls and a lighter. His movements were sluggish. Lack of sleep and aching joints from the long ride to get here followed by hours spent sitting (sleeping) in this booth made his fingers clumsy when he first tried to light the cigarette placed between his lips. When it was finally lit, he took a long drag with one hand while the other reached for his coffee. As he blew the smoke out, his face twisted with chagrin at finding the mug stone cold. Ah well, coffee was coffee. He took a sip, grimaced again, and then set it back down before tapping his ash into the coffee dregs.
last edited Oct 15, 2021 19:15:55 GMT -5 by Auggie Bishop
Post by Mason Garcia on Sept 27, 2020 11:37:38 GMT -5
Mason watched the older couple head for a booth near the front, just as the smell of cigarette smoke reached her nose. Her face crumpled in confusion. All the locals knew--oh. There was a newbie here, she'd almost forgotten because he was so quiet. She turned towards his table just in time to see the teen tapping the ash into his cold coffee and made a face. Man, she hated having to scold people--it was her job to make them happy, not to tell them what to do! But technically, smoking indoors was illegal in Oregon. Some kind of second-hand smoke law. And wait...wasn't he a little young to be smoking, anyway? She didn't technically know how old he was, but she would have guessed high school.
Snagging the pot of coffee and a clean mug, she swung up to his table with a smile and poured him a new cup. She was hoping that easing his caffeine addiction would be enough to soften the blow of squelching the nicotine one.
"I hate to say it, but you can't smoke in the diner, hon. It's illegal in Oregon, unfortunately. I do have some fresh coffee for ya though? And did you want any breakfast? You've been waiting here a while." At least, she figured he was waiting for someone, based on the way he kept looking at the clock. She'd done her best to leave him be, seeing as he apparently hadn't wanted to chit chat. He'd seemed most content (not "happiest," seeing as he looked mildly irritated the whole time he was there) just drinking his coffee and, theoretically, waiting for someone or something.
last edited Sept 27, 2020 11:38:33 GMT -5 by Mason Garcia
Post by Auggie Bishop on Sept 27, 2020 13:32:01 GMT -5
Call it travel-lag, the 36-hour journey from Chicago that made him forget that, yes, smoking was indeed illegal within nearly all businesses throughout the country. But when that voice broke through the silence and haze of exhaustion, Auggie's head came up and his brows furrowed over those smokey grey-green-blue eyes for a moment as he stared at her, not comprehending as he blew the smoke out the corner of his mouth away from her. Then he blinked, glanced at the cigarette, and then back up at her, realizing, "Oh." He wasn't in the old diner where his mom sometimes worked and even the regulars knew him and would simply point him out back to where the staff took their smoke breaks. He looked down at the cigarette - his last - with a grimace of chagrin for a second before taking one, last quick puff and, looking up at the waitress evenly, very deliberately held the smoldering death stick out over the mug and dropped it into the cold dregs. It extinguished with a light, quick hiss. Once again, he blew the smoke out away from her. "Sorry." he added, pushing the now contaminated mug of cold coffee toward her instead of answering her offer for a fresh batch. As for the other, "Nah, I'm good," he lied, even as his stomach grumbled. The bike was nearly on fumes and this coffee was going to clean the last, meager remnants of the contents of his wallet. Then, glancing once more up at the clock, he shifted in his seat to get at his wallet in his back pocket. "Actually, I'll just take the check and, uh..." he paused, glancing outside again, at the unfamiliar town on the other side of the glass, he seemed to consider something before looking back to her with an edgy reluctance of someone who hated asking for help as he went on "directions to your bus station?"'If you even have one, he snidely added in his head. Auggie had traded in his own ticket to get Asher a straight shot from Chicago to here instead of having to switch buses half a dozen times between there and here. Even so, Auggie had arrived a good 4 hours ahead of Asher's bus. If it was on schedule, it should be coming in within half an hour and Auggie didn't want his twin to have to get off a 36-hour ride to be greeted by a complete stranger, family or not.
last edited Sept 27, 2020 13:36:36 GMT -5 by Auggie Bishop
Post by Mason Garcia on Sept 29, 2020 19:16:33 GMT -5
Mason waited with wide eyes as the young man took another drag of his cigarette then dropped it into his mug. Yum. Still, at least he hadn’t tried to argue. She didn’t miss the growl of his stomach, even blended in among the other diner babble–growing up around hungry werewolf teens put you into the habit of knowing when people needed to be fed. She kept her face straight though until he asked for the check and directions.
“Sure thing!” she replied with a sparkling smile, ponytail swishing behind her as her head tilted to the side. She was already cooking up a plan. “I’ll do you one better and draw a little map. The town’s a bit of a maze cuz people just added on all higgeldy-piggeldy as the place got bigger. I’ll be right back.”
She bustled off behind the counter, filling a few more cups as she passed the customers. She was already cooking up a plan, and she glanced over her shoulder at the young man, hoping he wasn’t watching her too closely. She tugged a carry-out container from under the counter and stuck it up in the window.
“Hey Davy? Gimme a scrambled, bacon, and toast to go, would ya?” she called softly to the cook who gave her a funny little salute. Meanwhile, she rang up the kid for just his coffee, then took a pen and an extra napkin and doodled him a little map with a picture of a bus as the destination. She wasn’t a great artist–it looked about like what you’d expect a 23-year-old who still bubble dotted her i’s to draw like. But hey, at least she was giving directions, right? And that wasn’t all…
She brought back the check, the directions… and breakfast. She slid the stack in front of the kid with a grin.
“There ya go! Breakfast is on me, kay? Think of it as a welcome gift, like those old ladies who bring their neighbors pie. If you really don’t want it, you can give it to whoever you’re picking up.”She put her hands on her hips and did her best to look like she wasn’t going to budge on it. She was definitely expecting him to put up an argument. Kids who smoked and wore leather generally argued just for the sake of arguing, whether they meant it or not.
last edited Sept 29, 2020 19:17:50 GMT -5 by Mason Garcia
Post by Auggie Bishop on Sept 30, 2020 11:31:31 GMT -5
Yeah, yeah, Auggie knew everyone his age had a phone that they could use to look up this kind of thing. But, aside from the fact that Auggie just couldn't afford it (though he'd made damn sure Asher had one), he wasn't interested in serving the corporate conglomerate that could not only track his every move but view everything he looked at, listen to his calls, and even use the camera and microphone for the NSA to spy on him. No thanks. He survived just fine on payphones. There were still a few around in Chicago if you knew where to look.
To his surprise, there was little to no reaction from her at all to his mild insolence. Then, she was gone and Auggie was left blinking in her wake, murmuring, "Yeah, sure…", a trace of a smile on his face. It was an unfamiliar feeling because he hadn't had much reason to smile the last few weeks with CPS, the group home, the hearing, and now this cross country trip to the middle of nowhere.
Bemusedly he turned to his bag and rummaged for a second until he came out with an old polaroid camera. Last Christmas, he and Asher had done the twin mind-meld thing and accidentally bought each other the same gift. A camera. They'd been scavenged from pawn shops so they weren't the best. Auggie's was an old Polaroid 600. The flash didn't work but that was fine. He liked dark, blurry photos anyway. Quickly, he snapped a photo of his cup of coffee with its floating cigarette butt, his moleskin nearby, opened to a page full of small, cramped writing. The motor whirred loudly as it processed and then spit out his photo. He set the photo on the table and closed the polaroid, watching as the picture developed before his eyes. From his pocket, Auggie drew out a sharpie marker and pulled the cap off with his teeth. Then he sat there and contemplated the image as it finished developing, the lack of flash and the old lens making the image of a coffee cup and a notebook look dark, moody, and gritty. As he stared, Auggie debated what to call it. 'WELCOME COMMITTEE' ended up writing in his usual all-caps scrawl. Snorting at his own, wry sense of humor, Auggie laid the image on the open page of his book, intending to tape it down later.
Only now did he look up, seeing the waitress coming back with is directions and… a container? His brow furrowed in momentary confusion. Before he could remind her that he hadn't ordered anything, she was already speaking in bubbly rapid-fire, cutting him off. At her analogy, Auggie's gaze dropped to the picture he'd just taken with his sardonic title. It was as though she had read his mind from across the room and had decided to set him straight.
It was on the tip of his tongue to refuse despite the waitress's obvious 'no-nonsense' stance. Then the smell creeping out around the edges of the container hit his nostrils and went straight to his empty stomach. It let out another, voracious growl. Auggie almost moaned at the smell. One thing about Auggie- he loved food. Just about anything he could get his hands on. But his favorite was diner food. The greasier, the better. This smelled of bacon fat and butter and straight-up deliciousness. Hah, screw old lady pie, this stuff before him was practically ambrosia. It took everything he had not to fall on the box immediately. "T-thanks," he murmured in evident awe. His hands were even shaking as he fumbled for his wallet and took out his last $5, setting it on top of the slip. He pushed both toward her with another mumble. "No change." The coffee couldn't have more than $1.25, with tax, that was barely $1.50. That meant the tip was somewhere around 230%. But...this box, he was afraid to look inside and lose all control - this box filled with cheesy, eggy noms was worth its weight in gold to Auggie right now. He even contemplated upending his wallet to shake out the last few gritty coins he had in there. Auggie was the embodiment of the 'shut up and take my money' meme at that moment. No matter what she said, if anyone else wanted this box, they'd have to pry it from his cold, dead hands.
Yanking his attention up, he focused on her. In his experience, people were rarely nice to you if there wasn't something in it for them. Yet when he looked up at her, there was nothing but that bright smile and that stubborn posture that said she wasn't taking no for an answer. Realizing he didn't even know her name, only barely recalling that it might have started with an M, Auggie glanced at the nametag. Now he read it out loud. "Mason." Hm, a boy's name. He liked that. On an impulse, Auggie reached for his Polaroid and brought it up quickly, snapping her photo. Instantly, his expression turned somewhat sheepish. "Uh, for posterity" he mumbled, pulling the photo free and laying it on the table to develop. He'd gotten the usual curses from people when he snapped photos of strangers in the city. But he didn't know what to expect here. His free hand picked up the sharpie and twirled it between his fingers.
last edited Oct 1, 2020 19:02:11 GMT -5 by Auggie Bishop
Post by Mason Garcia on Sept 30, 2020 21:44:58 GMT -5
Mason’s grin widened enough to crinkle her eyes as she watched the kid’s hunger override any argument that he might have put up. Good! Nobody was gonna go hungry in this town as long as Mason Garcia had anything to say about it. She had half a mind to argue with him about the tip he was giving, too, but from the look on his face she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. She just watched him with glee.
Mason was a bit of an ‘ugly duckling’ among a long line of witches. It wasn’t that she didn’t have magic–she did! But she couldn’t get it to cooperate no matter what she did. No spell, no potion, no prophecy would ever turn out the way it was intended, and no amount of punishments or practice would change her. Mason was, quite simply, a dud. Maybe that was what drew her to the people who seemed to be outsiders and outcasts. She couldn’t stand to see someone upset if there was even a single thing she could do about it. Sure she’d barely known this kid, but if he needed a good breakfast, then he needed a good breakfast, and honestly, six dollars out of her check was a small price to pay. She could handle it.
She was still grinning like an idiot when he looked up, although her look softened slightly as he looked up at her. She hoped he felt a little more welcome here, now. She didn’t have time to react to the camera before it clicked, although right afterward she looked awfully confused. Why had he taken a picture of her? She wasn’t anything worth photographing, especially on a camera with limited shots.
For posterity? Huh. She still didn’t get it, but she just shrugged.
“So long as you don’t think it’s a waste of your film, I don’t mind,” she answered with a shrug. “Oh, but in exchange, tell me your name, too? I’ve gotta know all the locals, even the new ones.” Her grin returned. “Don’t you worry, I’ll know your name and your order in no time.”
Post by Auggie Bishop on Oct 1, 2020 21:41:32 GMT -5
It wasn't so much that Auggie felt unwelcome here but rather he'd never felt welcome anywhere. Auggie didn't know how to feel welcome, to feel at ease. It was a foreign concept to him. The only place he really felt at ease was with Asher. Wherever his brother was, Auggie had to be there as well.
Posterity. Another word for Auggie documenting every day life. The mundane things, the beautiful things, the broken things. He taped them into his moleskin notebooks alongside his writings. At her self deprecation, he scoffed. "Nothing's a waste of film." The assurance came automatically. He froze, thinking that this might come across as though he were confirming her insinuation when really, this was just something Auggie always said.
When she asked his name, the faint ghost of a smile at the edges of his mouth faltered and his eyes got that shifty manner of a cornered animal. Clearing his throat, he scoffed dryly. "Is it that obvious?" he asked with a crooked smirk of chagrin. Yeah. It definitely was. Okay, he was just stalling. Auggie wasn't used to people taking an interest in him. Nobody gave a shit in Chicago. Looking down at the picture he had taken, Auggie watched it slowly develop, seeing that he'd caught her face at an angle to the light coming in. It caused the hair framing her face to blur, the shadow hiding her eyes. But her smile came out clear. As did the stance of her hands on her hips. The sight made a smile flash across his lips. Whoever had told this girl she was an ugly duckling, might need to become very personally and closely acquainted with Auggie's fists. Unknowingly, Auggie's own thoughts mirrored the girl's. He was, at this moment, realizing or just becoming aware of how mangy he must look. Days on the road, scant washings in gas station bathrooms, and clothes that hadn't been new when he'd bought them had left him looking pretty ragged.
Maybe it was seeing that photo, seeing proof that he wasn't hallucinating this girl's kindness. Or maybe it was the realization (or reminder) that this was supposedly going to be their home for the foreseeable future and he might as well get used to it. So, clearing his throat, he lifted his chin to look at her. "Auggie," he said. "And...I don't know what my order is."
last edited Oct 6, 2020 20:17:54 GMT -5 by Auggie Bishop
Post by Mason Garcia on Oct 6, 2020 17:58:54 GMT -5
Auggie, huh? She wondered if it was short for August. It was cute, though, she liked it.
“Nice ta meetcha, Auggie,” she chirped. “And don’t you worry, we’ll find ya something to suit soon enough. If you’re living around here, the Full Moon’s only ever a short walk away, and we’re always open. I work the night shift, but the day shift girls are sweet.” She didn’t quite know why she was telling him her shift times like he’d come back for her specifically. She’d like to be a friend to him, but that was a bit pushy. She should probably chill out a little.
“And as for you being a new local, you were waiting for the bus, so I figured you must be picking somebody up,” she shrugged. “Plus, you’ve just got that feel. It’s hard to explain. I just usually know.”
It was the truth. She just had a pretty good feel for when people were just breezing through on their way somewhere else, there on business, or when they planned to stay. Xander’s Cross had a way of calling those who belonged there, and the people who did had a kind of energy…maybe she was just imagining it, but it was something she’d always noticed.
“Anyway, I hope you’ll wind up liking it here. Xander’s Cross is something special.”
last edited Oct 6, 2020 17:59:06 GMT -5 by Mason Garcia
Post by Auggie Bishop on Oct 7, 2020 20:58:26 GMT -5
Oh, Auggie didn't doubt they'd find his order soon enough what with as much time as he was planning to spend here. He couldn't imagine he'd be spending a whole lot of time at his half-sister's house or at this shop she owned. Auggie had survived 17 years with minimal adult interference, he wasn't interested in changing things now. Except for this girl. She seemed young but she was working a night shift and not seeming to be heading to highschool so was probably older than him. While he found her sharpness unnerving, how much she'd already been able to discern from what few bits of information he'd given, Auggie found that he liked her. He'd still been twirling that sharpie between his fingers and had even somewhat forgotten about the picture in front of him until that moment. His lips curved into that lopsided smile that was more smirk and carefully wrote out the caption as she confessed her hope. "Yeah...me too." That hadn't been his wish when he and Asher had found out that their half-sister, who they had never met, was taking them in and they were moving across the country. But, really, it never mattered where Auggie was so long as Asher was with him. Caption finished, her mention of the bus reminded Auggie that he had someplace to be. His gaze snapped up from his work, sliding past her to the clock. He swallowed a curse before it could escape his lips. He'd been so diligent asking for directions ahead of time and then pissed away his lead. "Shi- I gotta go." Grabbing up his notebook, Auggie slid it into his bag and then hoisted bag, jacket, and that blessed box into his arms before shuffling out of the booth being careful not to bump into her. "Uh, th-thank you, for everything." He lifted the box into view, once more tantalizing himself with that smell. He just hoped it survived the trip to the bus stop in his satchel. Scrambling toward the door, he juggled the items as he headed for his old, dusty bike.
On the table, he'd left behind the polaroid with its caption in fresh, black sharpie- 'SOME HEROES DON'T WEAR CAPES; THEY WEAR APRONS.'
last edited Oct 11, 2020 16:25:57 GMT -5 by Auggie Bishop