He Could Smell It On Him, The Sweetness Of His Secondary Nature, But The Elf Wasn't About To Puff Out

he could smell it on him, the sweetness of his secondary nature, but the elf wasn't about to puff out his chest and hold himself up with arrogance simply because the man before him was an omega. he might have been from another world but even he was aware, enough, that gender didn't equate to strength and weakness; and he'd seen his fair share of alphas, in his time, learn that the hard way-- that and the other hadn't given alton a reason to lord his gender over him. they were just talking. for now.

"the rancher." he repeated back with pursed lips and a nod of his head that implied understanding. now that the other was mentioning it, it was a bit strange he hadn't come across anyone yet but at the same time alton hadn't gone out of his way to look for anyone. he simply found a gate that wasn't locked, let himself in, and lost himself amongst the animals. if they didn't want him here they could have come and found him themselves. "he's not watching them that closely," he commented. it could have been a joke but, if it was, his flat tone made it hard to tell. "but maybe that's why you're here. did he, this damien, call you because he saw me wandering around? i would have introduced myself to him but," he didn't go looking for anyone to introduce himself too, "i'm not much of a people person. cinnamon," he grimaced at the ridiculous name for the horse, "can vouch for me though. i mean no harm. i'm just... learning my way around."

ryan  knew  reflexes  all  too  well,  but  he  also  had  the  sharp  eye  of  a  cop,  which  caught  the  knee-jerk  reaction  in  the  other.  but  at  the  same  time  ryan  didn't  judge.  they  all  had  their  baggage  &  he  wasn't  about  to  stockpile  on  someone  else's.  not  until  he  asked  for  it  anyway.  he  didn't  often  meet  people  out  here,  but  it  also  wasn't  the  most  uncommon  happenstance.  his  joke  ..had  clearly  not  hit  the  mark,  but  ryan  didn't  let  that  get  to  him.  hands  pushed  into  the  pockets  of  his  jeans,  attempting  to  appear  ..calm  or  relaxed,  or  both.

perks  of  being  who  he  was,  he  didn't  have  to  be  afraid.  he  smelled  alpha  across  the  ranch,  but  he  wasn't  impressed.  nor  was  he  worried.  he  saw  nothing  he  couldn't  take.  he  seemed  reasonable  though.  "damien's  the  rancher."  he  was  here  here,  wasn't  he?  interesting.  most  newbies  went  through  him  at  one  point  or  another.  "he's  watchin'  after  the  horses  an'  other  animals."  &  he  took  his  job  seriously.  "damien  ain't  mine,  no.  mine's  ...  not  here.  but  the  one  you're  befriending's  called  cinnamon.  still  think  pebbles  is  bad?"  not  that  ryan  judged  horse  names.  “damien  doesn't  like  random  people  hangin'  out  here,  so  you  might  wanna  say  hi  at  some  point.”

claws and fangs out, hands gripping at his collar as he was pinned back against the wall, the vampire couldn't really complain about the other's reaction. he was in a place he didn't belong and everyone was already tense. "that is hardly a fair question, you could argue i'm two of the three-- or at least i have been at some points in my life," he teased with a loose smile and a soft, but forced chuckle. because making a joke was definitely the way to smooth things over.

"right now i'd wager that i'm just an unlucky idiot," he offered up as he purposefully pulled his lips back to reveal his fangs in an awkward, open mouthed smile. "i had a few things to attend too while the damned sun was still out and, somehow, i wound up being public enemy number one to a rather persistent flock of birds. they ruined my protection, so, to stop myself from burning to a crisp on the streets i made my way here. lovely place, by the way. very welcoming." he explained, his tone dripping in a playful sarcasm as he reached up to lightly pat the other man on his right shoulder.

"that explains why i'm here? what about you? what were the choices again? thief, cannibal, or pervert? i know which one i'm hoping for," he teased, making a joke. again.

Cyrus wasn't usually the person assigned to deal with the corpses waiting to be buried, he just picked them up when they were ready and transported them from the funeral home to the wake, from the wake to the cemetery. but this time they sent him to the cold morgue to inspect the bodies, not that he understood that, but it didn't seem to be that difficult to just mark an x in the boxes on his clipboard. except he found a living person in a place that should only be for the dead, instinctively he dropped the clipboard and put his claws and fangs out "what the hell are you doing here" he lunged towards the other male and pinned him against the stops cold, holding him by the collar "what are you, thief, cannibal or pervert?" depending on the answer he was ready to live up to the establishment's slogan 'funeral house serene alloy: your death is our joy'

closed for @dameofyourheart

he hadn't been in new haven long enough to understand what everyone was so afraid of, what hid in the shadows that made them all so tense and cautious, but he knew enough to know he needed to be prepared for something. his late night wandering a week, or so, ago had led him to meeting river-- and to buying a modern bow for himself that he could keep in his home as a last stitch defense-- but it felt foreign in his hands; it felt weighted down; it felt human. he knew what he needed to do.

donning some of the clothes he hadn't worn since making a home for himself here in this realm, clothes that his old friend teasingly called his authentic ren-faire outfit, the elf alpha abandoned the comfort of his home and made a crude campsite for himself out in new haven's woods. he was careful to keep himself away from others so that his ritual wouldn't be interrupted; and so that he wouldn't have to explain himself. it took him three days to carve out his bow, and his arrows, from the surrounding trees-- and while they weren't as powerful as what he could have found in the wild lands, new haven had a magic all it's own, woven into the fiber of every living thing that, that he was able to imbue into his weapon.

on the third night, after the bow was finally finished, he put out the fire at his campsite and made his way to the salt water lake. scanning his surroundings briefly, he decided he was alone so he pulled an arrow from his quiver and set it into place. pulling back, the bowstring seemed to glint with flecks of light, as if they were stars, in the glow of the moonlight. taking a deep breath, the elf centered himself before finally letting go. the arrow whipped out of his clutch, arching over the shore and over the water with incredible speed before finally piercing the water's surface towards the deep center. for a moment he thought he saw something out there beneath the surface, right where his arrow slipped under. "the only thing you need to worry about is getting that arrow back," he mumbled to himself as he tried to calm his own concern that he might have hurt something; or almost hurt something. "at least we're alone out here..."

"i'm sure you're capable of more than you think." he countered, plainly, as he turned his attention back to the bows for a moment; idly switching between the different styles the man had shown him, testing their weights in his hand again, only to settle for the same one again. holding onto it this time, rather than putting it back, he turned to face the other but instead of ending things there and cutting his night short, instead of saying i'll take this one, he found himself falling back into their conversation. "your thing is different?" he questioned with genuine curiosity. "what, exactly, is your thing then? should i be worried?" if he was more social he might have smiled, or he might have let his tone take on a playful edge, but that wasn't what alton was none for. "i was wondering if that was actually your name." he commented with pursed lips and a tired nod of his head. oh, right. he wasn't wearing a name tag like the other was. "alton."

"Yes, I would say I can take care of myself, at least in a one-on-one fight" River reflected and scratched his beard "but I don't know if I would come out in one piece if I had to deal with a whole gang" he admitted with a smile and a awkward laugh that made his shoulders shake. This was the time when customers said whether or not they would take the product and then leave, but River wasn't complaining, he would hate to be alone in the store again and have to settle for a simple "well... I would say no, I don't know how to fight, my thing is different" he shrugged "by the way, I'm River" he said pointing to his badge.

"hey, whoa, easy blondie. it wasn't me." his hands shot up at his sides to show that he was innocent as he turned to face the other. "i would never call someone else breedable, and i hate getting called that myself," well, it might have depended on who it was but that was beside the point. "plus i don't have a, well, you know what, never mind-- just-- did someone yell that at you in passing or is there some kind of context i'm missing here?"

"Whoever called me fucking breedable better get ready to have their dick bitten off."

the witch only had two weaknesses in life. hot alpha's that had a tendency to be jerks and good coffee; well, there was also the exhaustion from his nightmares, people that tried to eat microphones while talking into them, and a whole host of other things worth mentioning but those were a different kind of weakness. "technically i'm not allowed to choose what we hang up," he answered with a sigh as he gave in and turned to fully face the alpha. the two weren't incredibly close, they certainly didn't have matching friendship bracelets or drunken tattoos, but the witch had crossed paths with him a few times before. hence the sour taste in his mouth.

"but for you? why not? who cares if i get in trouble, you've always been super nice to me even though i'm still a little new around here so, sure." he sarcastically answered, his eyes flat, as he took the flyer from jaxon. "i'll make sure to hang it up on the studio window. at the radio station. where i work. where no one can see me."

If there was anything that Jaxon hated it was asking for help. Running his own own business before finding a mate or even really having a support system wasn't the easiest thing to do. He was known to be a party goer and kind of jerk so asking for favors around town didnt seem like the best idea but he needed this more then anything. "Look I know I dont deserve it, but if you could just hang up this flyer at your job or around your house you'd be doing me a solid man." he sighed. "The tattoo parlor brings me a lot of joy and I had to fight hard for it, but having it in the mall isnt the ideal place for customers. So can I just say I owe you one.. or something?" Jaxon inquired.