baby don't yell*[THOMAS<3]

[HARPER NICOLE WAY]

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this real life just isn't right lets get away

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[style=width: 395px; font-family: arial; text-transform: lowercase; text-align: justify; font-size: 10px; color: white; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]Could this be true? Harper Way- the college student that always spend up all night studying for tests, surviving on red bull and 5-hour energy, was sleeping. She desperately needed. Rumors said that sleep was more important than anything else, but she disagreed. The 4.0 student was willing to keep her grades up by any means. That night, however, she found herself going to bed at midnight. New record for her. However, something just had to mess that up, didn’t it? She was dreaming. The dream that happened pretty often. The wedding. Except two things were missing from it: Cameron and her dress. For some reason, she was walking around in nothing but a towel, looking around for her dress. No one knew where it was. Harper was distracted because Cameron was there after finding out whom his true father was and that Harper knew about it. She was wandering around crying before running into Kaleb, who looked as distressed as she was. Her heart pounded as these endless tears rolled down her face.

There was a foreign scent, however, that filled her nose. Normally, she wasn’t that light of a sleeper, but the instinct kicked in. She smelled silver. Close. Her eyes shot open, figuring it was just a part of her dream, but no. It was still there. She took a couple of sniffs, but it was hard to detect anything else. The only thought was that her roommate came back with a couple of guests, but there was something else lingering there. Human. Harper propped up on her elbows, not feeling at all sleepy. It was dark in her room. Her roommate had put up hefty curtains to block any sunlight from coming in so that they were able to sleep in properly. Now, she reached a little bit to uncover the curtains, but touched something else and jumped back against the wall. The werewolf in her started to rustle up in fear and threatened to turn whenever. Before she was able to scream, she felt like the force of a thousand tons just grabbed her and threw her smack down on the bed again. A hand covered her mouth as she made a very high pitched terrifying scream. The curtain had indeed moved and opened so the unexpected visitors would be able to see. Harper started to kick and prepared to turn, but before that happened, the hand covering her mouth was now over her nose. A cold material that started to burn was placed on her chest. Her heart felt like it was getting electrocuted as she wiggled more. The silver hurt. Felt like she was placing herself against an electric fence as she tried to fight and change. But between not being able to breath and the iron, she was fading fast. She heard, ”It’s okay… she’s starting to lose it. Let’s not make a mess.” She indeed- faded fast. Feeling like she could no longer breath, she blacked out.

When she woke up, it felt just as equally dark, but the smell of silver and death filled the air. A scream escaped her lips for the lack of knowing what else to do. She backed up and found that she was chained to chains attached to the walls. The chains were pretty long, but she saw the silver lining they had on the outside. Silver. On iron. Iron didn’t hurt as bad as silver did, but it was still uncomfortable. Like an aching pain that she couldn’t get rid of. She was still in her plaid pajamas with her hair up in its little night bun. Although her eyes were adjusting and she was discovering that the blackness hadn’t been from the room, but more from her. The room was not bright in any fashion, but dimly lit. The walls were made of brick, but looked like there was some detail put into it. Iron. Lots of iron. Clearly she wasn’t the only creature they were going to be keeping in here.

Where was here? Scared Harper felt like she was going to burst into tears the more she thought about it. A feeling of loneliness and hopelessness crept in her and she whined. The voice echoing through the halls as she crept into a small ball, making sure none of the silver came in contact with her skin. Beside her was a half circled cage against the wall, made of iron no doubt. Other than that, it was just a door. When she howled, she was met by a laugh that spooked her into hitting her head against the wall. ”Calm down Ms. Way. Might as well face it. We’re not entirely cruel, so we’re going to bring you some company here in a moment.” It was the same man talking before, and now she saw his face as a wanted man among the supernatural. Jackson Duval. She didn’t know where it had come from, but a couple of moments later, the door opened again. A line of chains made out of the same material around a man she couldn’t see very well in the lighting he was in came in with several escorts. With struggle, they placed him inside of the cage next to her. Harper looked down to avoid anyone’s gaze, trying not to feel herself shake all over.

Okay, Harper Way, calm down and think. You’re smart, think. They knew who she was. Duval was here. Duval was a hunter. There were rumors saying he was also the leader of the plague, but she never believed in rumors. Facts were facts. Yet, now, as she thought about it, a horrible thought came across her mind. What if that rumor happened to be correct? She was dealing the plague. A group that was known for not just killing supernatural, but making sure every death was as horrid as possible, punishing them of what most did not commit. Pain. Torture. Harper was going to die, but not quick. Day by day until the wounds were too much for her body to handle. Infected wounds that would eventually kill her. Her head lifted up with tears in her eyes at the realization. She was a realist. There was no way of getting out of this. This man too. Harper glanced over, seeing as this was probably going to be the last good person on Earth she would see. ”Who are you?” Her voice cracked, trying to seem friendly, but really, only wanting to see what part of whatever big supernatural family he was from. As she was in here, no doubt. Though the logic in her case, the last thing she felt like doing was talking. She just wanted to curl up and wait for it. Her feet scuffled along the cold concrete, wondering if she was going to die of starvation first. In her head, she silently started praying. Help. Please. Anyone out there. Harper didn’t want to die, there were so many things to do! She knew she had complained and cheated and hurt, but please. She’d make it all better… please.

TAGS: DINO/THOMAS || NOTES: FJEIOWAJFPOEW HERE WE GO <3333 || WORDS: 1183

♥thanks

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[THOMAS RAPHAEL EVERDEEN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #f1f1f1] Say it once, tell me twice, be certain I’m alright make a wish, just a sign, to remind me That tomorrow’s worth the fight It wasn't unusual for Thomas to sleep, even though his body didn't need it. He actually slept a lot, allowed himself to have that daily rhythm that he lacked because his body did no longer have the urgency to function. It did if he wanted to, but not because it was neccessary. If the man wanted, he could spent his entire life up and about, not feeling tired, not anything. But that was so damn tiring, honestly. That way the eternal life would be very very long. And he wasn't exactly a big fan of that one, so instead he forced himself to have a daily rhythm that included sleeping, eating food, washing himself, all that jazz. Why you ask? Well honestly he truly didn't know. He just wanted to find Rosabella, he just wanted to be happy with her and that was all the ghost needed. He did not think about anyone else but Rosabella, he did not need anyone else but Rosabella. In fact, Thomas was usually grateful for the solitude. Not having people around that could piss him off, which very often they did. They usually just worried too much about things he could not give a fuck about. They cared about knowledge, they cared about beauty, age and appearance, what people thought of them. They were too proud, their vanity was unbearable for someone who had lost his image in the mirror (luckily), who had lost the notion of ageing and who by now knew enough about the world to know that pure knowledge did not change a fucking thing. He had nothing left to want or to achieve, nothing, but Rosabella. Likewise, the ghost did not dream. To dream first of all you had to sleep properly, which for him wasn't the case, and his brain had nothing left to digest. He had covered it all, seen it all, been there done that to all, and sometimes he wondered why he would not just haunt someone to salt and burn his bones. He couldn't care less if he left this earth, there was nothing left to keep him. But then it hit him that if there was nothing left to keep him here, he would not be here in the first place. Well damn. The ghost heard the footsteps before they were at his bed, but as he shot up, there was something that made his entire being dysfunction. He was lucky now that he did not need oxygen, because otherwise he would have choken or fainted right now, because nothing seemed to work at all. He was pushed back on his bed, and when he looked down he discovered that there was some aluminium paper wrapped around him, and that that was the reason why he could not move anything but his head and his legs. So nothing was left for him to do then kicking around like a fucking maniac,but none of it worked. Instead someone struggled to chain his hands and as the paper got removed, Thomas was about to call them out on their stupidity, mock them, as he now could teleport himself away from here, but then realized he couldn't. Looking down he saw that -indeed- there were iron cuffs around his hands that made sure he wasn't going anywhere. He could not even make himself invisible anymore. His entire body was under lockdown and all he could do, was surrender himself to his assaulters, of whom he had no clue who they were. "You must be so brave, attacking people in their sleep." The man sneered in annoyance as he was blindfolded and pushed around to keep on walking. He knew he might better keep his attitude on the downlow with people that had him at their will, but he was a jerk. The ghost did not have any other behaviour in store. "Just be quiet, you filthy rat." A voice sneered back at him and at the same time he realized it might be better to just keep his big mouth shut. Thomas was not afraid of pain, he wasn't. Pain was just something that made daily life less dull. If he could even still feel pain, he wasn't even sure of that. Why they had attacked him, he was clueless about that as well. I mean, he was a ghost, but he was a ghost minding no one's business and apart from some taunting, he had never really been vicious to anyone or attracted attention to himself in any way. Nopes, Thomas was clueless about it. "Calm down Ms. Way. Might as well face it. We’re not entirely cruel, so we’re going to bring you some company here in a moment. ' The same voice said, and the sound of doors opening sounded. Oh great, so he was brought here as company for someone else, who was going nuts in there? No, really, that was just terrific. Especially since it was a chick. And chicks, jesus, they could get hysteric. And Thomas could not deal with hysteria. The blindfold got pulled off his head as he entered the cell and well, saying he did not like the idea of being pushed into an iron cage was an understatement. Realizing going down without a fight was not an option, the man started pushing back a little, but his force did not weigh up to that of several men. Soon he was in the cage, grumpy and defeated. He let out some sort of a mocking laugh as the woman asked who he was. "Oh we're gonna have a round of introductions? Yaaaaaay. Well I am Thomas Everdeen and these are all my imaginary friends, ghost 1, 2, 3 and 4. We're kinda trapped in here and we don't really like that, and we don't know why. And you, huh, what have you done to these people?" He said with sarcasm, the only language the ghost spoke. Y'know, Thomas had not always been the jerkface he was today. because he knew and admitted it, he was an asshole. And he liked being an asshole. It kept people at a distance and that was exactly how the ghost liked it these days. All his family, all his friends and everyone he ever knew had died and he was fine with the solitude. The only one who he still knew that was alive, was Rosabella, his everything, his main focus point. When he thought of his past, when he thought of everything, she was the only reason he was still here. And she was the only person he wanted to find, see and talk to, and no one else should bother him on the road to that. But unfortunately for the ghost those things were never the case. Somehow he always seemed to get in trouble or attract other people's attention to him. Like this chick. He rather suffered in solitude than acknowledge her and die together. Did it matter? No it didn't, at all. So why in God's name would he even pretend that he was nice? Ever changing the storyline that keeps me alive tags: emily/harper <333 word count: 1172 notes: asdfghjklkdhhajdfld <3333 this template was made by madcap @ caution.

[HARPER NICOLE WAY]

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this real life just isn't right lets get away

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[style=width: 395px; font-family: arial; text-transform: lowercase; text-align: justify; font-size: 10px; color: white; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]Harper wasn’t an overly emotional girl. She was an average girl- which could have been argued that an ordinary girl was an overly emotional girl, but she disagreed. In the past, she had met girls who cried about everything. When they were happy, angry, and they could probably just brink out into a mood where they were bawling. Harper really didn’t have enough time for them because she was so bad with other crying or comforting people, but even as she sat there now, she felt the tears start to swell up. The feeling of hopelessness never really came in her before. There was always a way out. A way to start something up. If a mistake was made, she could just fix it and learn from it. What the hell was she supposed to do here? She was locked down and trapped. Her mind couldn’t even pause to think of how could get out of there, because the more she looked around and thought, the more she realized there was no chance. Not a single chance.

Help might have come though. Two minds thinking together was better than one trying to do it by herself. There was a little hope that sparked in her, although she knew that this person was going to be through the same thing she was. She didn’t even know what she was in this for. All she could think of was how much she had wriggled in pain only moments ago when they were trying to get her over here. Harper couldn’t tell where she was either. All she could smell was the silver and iron surrounding her. Smelling elements may have been a strange thing, and something most other werewolves could overcome, but panic was preventing her from doing anything else. When were they going to start, she wondered? Would they keep her sitting there with her mind melting for a couple of days before they decided that it was time to fuck with her some more. It was always tense and plot turning in books and things, but now she felt like it was the stupidest story line ever. There was no hero to storm in for her. She thought that once. A mistake she would never make again.

She wasn’t even sure if she was allowed to talk to the guy. For all she knew, one of the hunters would come in and tell them to shut up. Another- they could have been listening. Yet, what did she have to lose at this point? Only time. She expected someone that was freaking as much as she was because honestly- who wouldn’t be? However, his answer made her actually flinch as she glared into that general direction. Her bottom lip quivered and despite herself- started having tears roll down her eyes. Not only was she stuck in a giant hole that was cold and unforgiving, but she was spending it with a very sarcastic blunt ghost who didn’t seem to give two hoots about what was going on through here. Of course, a ghost. A ghost that didn’t care what happened to him. The mortal would have seen it different. ”God, I’m stuck in here with a schizophrenic ghost.” She muttered into her arms, shaking a little bit and hearing the rattle of chains on her. Then he had the decency to ask what she had done. Her red eyes glanced over at him once, but without turning her head, her shy mode kicked in a little bit. Even if she had been the first to speak. Desperate times seemed to change the personality of others, didn’t they? ”I done? N-not a s-s-single thing.” She said with a bit of anger in her voice mixed with that grief of hopelessness once again.

It occurred to her for a moment that it could have been a self-defense thing that he had. She panicked, trying to feel some sort of help from the other side. His might have been to be a jackass to everything that was around him. Perhaps he was as scared as she was. People dealt with it differently and she should have known that. If it wasn’t, then that many really was as insane as Harper suggested out loud. It was hard to think about. All of these things that’ she was going to miss out on. Though she hadn’t really been the number one fan of getting married, she hadn’t wanted to die instead of letting it happen. She wanted to be the one woman that would apply for a physics job and dazzle everyone with her skills. Maybe have a few little redheads running around or something. Watch Adam go rot in hell. All of those things. There was no reason to try to be shaky and shy in front of the last person she was going to talk to, so she sighed, ”No, look, I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry.” It didn’t sound very sincere, but she was trying. Something puzzled her. She figured she was in there because of a big last name she possessed. Yet, in this case, she saw that Everdeen wasn’t exactly a popular last name. Furthermore, a family of ghosts would be rather hard to create considering they had no control on who became a ghost or not. So if she wasn’t here for that, what was she here for? It was a very good point Thomas made.

Outside, she heard the mutterings and voices, only catching a few words and phrases, but never full sentences. The things she heard were ‘five more minutes’ and ‘you ready’ and the one that made her shake the most, ‘just don’t kill them so quickly like you did last time’. It wasn’t going to be long before Harper was finally going to get that pain she had been dreading this entire time. Harper was on the light side of this war! She was one of those stupid college hippies that ran around and wanted to save every damn thing she could! How could this be what she was fighting for? There was so much she was starting to doubt now. She supposed there were bad supernaturals, but these were the types of humans that created bad supernaturals. Where did it all start? She didn’t know. But she did know that she was going to get the bottom end of this somehow.

TAGS: DINO/THOMAS || NOTES: FJEIOWAJFPOEWJFIOEPAJF || WORDS: 1066

♥thanks

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[THOMAS RAPHAEL EVERDEEN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #f1f1f1] Say it once, tell me twice, be certain I’m alright make a wish, just a sign, to remind me That tomorrow’s worth the fight Thomas Everdeen was pretty sure he had arrived in a fucked up world. The world, society they were fucked up. The people were insane, the morals were insane, everthing was just insane. Sure, the witch inquisitions when he was a young man made zero sense either, that is, if you did not know about the supernatural world, and it was barbarian and mean and no one could surive it. And that was what Thomas had sold his girl off to. To people who would murder her anyways. He felt guilt wash over him again as he thought of it, because he had not known what he was thinkign when he did it. It was a moment of insanity, a part of freaking out, when Thomas had done that. Given up his Rosabella for money to save his farm, only to die later. It was karma biting him in the ass when he was prosecuted later and he had known he deserved it. The ghost had regretted his action the moment he had done it, but by then it had been irreversible. And because she had been found guilty, Thomas was to be eliminated too, because he might be infected. Infected, please. As if being a witch was some sort of disease you could pass on. But anyways, likewise he had not been able to pass the test (luckily, or he would have been burned or destroyed another way anyways) and ended up being the ghost he is today, three hundred years later. Thomas had never known what it was, why he was still here on earth and maybe he'd never find out. All he wanted was to find Rosabella, to make it up to her, to make sure that she knew he loved her and that he regretted his action every single day again. It was the first thought to come to his mind when he woke up, the last thought before he went to sleep, even if he really didn't have to sleep. Right now he regretted going to sleep, because if he had been awake all night, just minding his own business, the hunters would probably not have caught him that easily and he wouldn't be here with an overly hormonal woman who he didn't even like. But quite frankly, Thomas did not really like anyone. Three hundred years were long if you had only one mission and you seemed to fail time on time again. People always came to bother you, always held you up and made you stop and have to wait before you found an opportunity to finally leave them again. There were a few people who tried hard and managed to crawl into his stone cold heart, but they weren't a lot of people. They were never a lot of people. This girl certainly not, she could not handle his sarcastic ass behaviour, and honestly not a lot of people could. Usually they gave up on him rather quickly and he hardly blamed them. That's what he wanted anyways. Yet a small smile tugged up at his lips when he heard her reply. So she did have wit? Well that was a plus, if he needed to spend time here anyways. "Well, you could have done a worse job. I mean, atleast I'm not insane or something, or hallucinating. I'm not hallucinating, right?" He said with a smirk, rolling his eyes slightly as he gazed through the cell again. Well fuck this shit, he did not like it here at all. Fucking batshit crazy hunters. The werewolf was actually crying, and if there was one thing Thomas Everdeen could not stand, it were tears. "Hey, lady, no crying please. Tears don't solve anything." The ghost said, his tone far softer and more gentle that he thought he could manage these days. Tears always seemed to soften him up a little, even if they drove him insane and the sarcastic ass inside him wanted to cry out in agony. Tears, fuck tears. But then again, he also realized that this girl was probably the last person he'd ever see. Not Rosabella, but her. And he did not even now her name. "What's your name anyways?" He asked, brushing a hand through his dark locks. Somehow he found it a tad ironic that he was dead and was about to be killed again. Serously, hunters, he had done nothing wrong. He didn't wonder why he was here, after all, he was here now and pondering on the reasons why wouldn't solve anything. And since the biggest chance was that he'd end up dieing anyways (though technically he was already dead), wondering about idiotic stuff you did not have an answer to did not seem to be very intellectual thing to do. Thomas had always been a ghost to mind his own business and hope that other people did the same to him, which unfortunately they never did. And now he was being punished for being such an antisocial ass or something, whatever. He stared through the dark room and heard the hushed voices of the hunters, and knew it would not be long. Well fuck, Thomas Everdeen would not go down without a fight. "Hey, we need to do something. We need to get outta here." Thomas said stretching his arms a little, careful to not touch the iron. He hated how he could always be invisible except for in iron. Damn you, iron. He had gone through an inquisition once, he did not plan on doing it twice. And he hoped the overemotional werewolf lady agreed with him. Ever changing the storyline that keeps me alive tags: emily/harper <333 word count: 930 notes: merg crappy post is crappy, but asdfghjklkdhhajdfld <3333 this template was made by madcap @ caution.

[HARPER NICOLE WAY]

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this real life just isn't right lets get away

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[style=width: 395px; font-family: arial; text-transform: lowercase; text-align: justify; font-size: 10px; color: white; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]She knew that she had to start thinking. It was really hard to think when her mind was going crazy. It was like her first college test all over again, though much more serious than something like a test. At the time, she had been suffering a hangover and it seemed like the world to her. When she first entered college, she went through the small stage of ‘yay no parents’ and went partying. That was the test where it all stopped because instead of studying, she was out hooking up with some guy she met at the bar. Oops. Harper wasn’t even known for that type of thing either, even then. She supposed now it was just all down the drain. All of this marriage thing had prevented her to do very much else. One might have thought she was regretting not getting out more, but it was just the opposite. Wyatt was never going to know what happened to her and what she did with Adam. He should know the truth about what happened to her slut of a fiancé. She was told by a friend in her pack to stop calling herself that, but she couldn’t help it. It’s what she was. Now she was dead.

Not yet. She had to try to remain some sort of twisted positive on this. Once her brain stopped freaking out, she could actually use it properly. Maybe if she would have known, she would have made some sort of plan, but no one really knew how they were going to react until they were in the situation themselves. Harper was defiantly in this situation. Whenever her mind though of a way, it also figured out the reason it couldn’t work. It was really hard for her to plan anything when she was chained like that. It was like Saw was going to happen in real life. Her stomach turned. She pleaded to anyone that would be able to hear her. Help. Please. She hadn’t asked for very much in life, and being a good girl had went down the drain, but please, she was asking for something now. An idea. Give her an idea. Give her the time to ease her mind because she wasn’t going to be able to think of anything at this rate.

Harper wished she could have some kind of help from someone else who was trying to get out, but she had no idea what he was thinking. She had no idea what use he could even be. He was pretty much set in the same iron bared trap she was. Iron. Probably one of the very basic weakness of most supernaturals. It was really annoying. Who knew if she was even able to change during this time? If she was going to live for that long. If someone were to talk by that she knew, she might be able to communicate, but what was the odds of that happening? What were the odds of that happening and the chance the hunters wouldn’t also overhear? It was something that she could probably calculate, but no chance in hell wanting to. She thrashed her red hair out of her face since the tears were making her hair stick, but they weren’t doing all that great of a job. She still felt just as heartbroken and unsure of the next events to come.

His jokes, whoever he was, was not appreciated. Her gaze didn’t get any more friendly although it was hard to take anyone serious when the redness and puffiness of her face started to cloud her vision. Harper looked away and sighed, ”I wish we were both hallucinating.” It would be easier to wake herself up out of her hallucination than to deal with anything that was real in front of her. Who knew? By the end of this, there was a good chance she might come out insane at the very end. She had no idea what torture did to the mind, and it was her mind that was her strongest attribute. Or used to be. The more her thoughts ran, the most tears filled her face. At his suggestion, she blinked and looked at him as if he had suddenly split into two of him, ”I know, I know. I c-c-can’t help it.” The more she tried to stop, the more her body didn’t care what she was trying to do. Her body was in a panic and she didn’t know what to do about it. The asking of her name was asked. She wasn’t sure if this was going to get her in trouble or not, but she supposed she really couldn’t sink much deeper. ”Harper Way. I-I think t-they want me,” She sniffed, ”Because of the whole W-way thing.” She smiled weakly, but she did not feel happy.

All her last name. What was a last name? It just meant she had a lot of werewolves she was related to that happened to have money. It was going to be a line she would pass down and make bigger, but she guessed not. Harper wasn’t the only one that heard that conversation, she guessed. In the dark, Harper peeked back over at him, admiring him a little bit for the brave way he said it. How confident about it he looked. It was almost as if it gave her confidence. ”No doubt. I just…” She looked around at the room they were both enclosed in, ”I don’t think we have very much time to do so before something happens. This place doesn’t have many openings except that one door” Talking calmed her down a little bit for some reason. As if someone else hearing what was in her head would help. They were going to have to figure it out later because she heard footsteps coming. No. Help. Please. She’ll be good.

TAGS: DINO/THOMAS || NOTES: TORTURENEXTPOST O.O || WORDS: 981

♥thanks

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[THOMAS RAPHAEL EVERDEEN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #f1f1f1] Say it once, tell me twice, be certain I’m alright make a wish, just a sign, to remind me That tomorrow’s worth the fight He remembered the day he died like it was yesterday, even if it was about 300 years ago. It had been just a normal day, as far as you could consider his life normal after he had sold Rosabella to the Inquisitors. His life had been filled with some sort of guilt, but he had done what he had to do, to save his family, his farm and the things that were dear to him. They had only been poor farmers, slaving for their landlord with the tiniest amounts of money and in the process nearly starving themselves. Thomas had fucked up for himself, he had deemed himself invincible because of the stuff Rosabella had taught him, she had educated him to be smarter than them and that way to be able to fuck around with them, but in reality, there was one thing he hadn't taken into account. Money, power, they were worth more than intelligence and an alibi. When his father had died, he had been in the "powerful" but at the same time vulnerable position of head of the family. Because the nobility knew they couldn't hurt him, they knew he didn't care about himself. But he cared about his family. So threats like that were enough for a guy to do the most stupid things. And he had done the stupidest thing in his life. He had sold the woman he loved. Thomas remembered how he had been out that day, on the field, working his ass off to plow the fields with his cow, the last animal they possessed, because the rest had been taken from them to pay their debts to their landlord. Their pigs, chicken, their horse, everything was gone. How did they expect them to ever repay their debts when they did not let them have anything to work with? It had never made sense to the ghost and while he was working ou there, somehow blowing off some steam by the tough physical labor, he hadn't know what was coming. He came back home and saw all of them, waiting for him. He remembered how there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, as the entire village stood there, waiting for him. They did not even take him to court, or any form of legal jurisdiction. That wasn't even necessary back then, not for local commoners like Thomas had been. He remembered his crime, having a sexual affair with the 'witch' Rosabella, and helping her escape because he was bewitched by her, because he was infected. They had to eliminate him before the witch would bring her wrath to the village through him. They say drowning is the most vicious death a man could have. He did not know if that counted for when you were a ghost, if the pain you get through when they forced you to move on, when they tortured you could not be worse than drowning, but he did remember now how it hadn't been pretty. It had taken some time for him to realize what exactly had happened and when he had only just became a ghost, he had no idea what was going on. He was still alive, but no one could see him? How was that even possible? Nobody had wanted to help him, he had had to figure it out all by himself. And after that he had decided he did not need anybody at all anymore. People were not to be trusted, he was his own example for that, and they never helped you when you really needed them, only superficial help to not lose face, so why keep them around? And as he figured out all the ghost stuff by himself, he remembered again. Drowning. He remembered the heavy weight of the boulder that pulled him down, how desperate he had been, not able to move because his hands were tied behind his back, his feet tied to the boulder. How hard it was to try not to breathe, to keep your mouth shut and not breathe. But of course, at some point the reflex took over. For a moment you experience the burning pain of water that forces it's way through your throat, filling your lungs like a big sponge. You remember the cold and the pain.. and then nothing but a big black hole. He had never even made it to heaven, because apparently he had had some unfinished business to do. He figured it had to do with Rosabella, that she was still around and that he had to make things right with her. He wanted to make things right with her. But he realized he'd probably never get that chance. Not anymore. He had wasted 300 years of misery trying to find her, and it was all for nothing now. He had wasted his time here, while he could have just gone to find his bones, burn them himself and commit supernatural suicide and force himself into the afterlife. He should have done that, because he had wasted 300 years roaming around this crappy ball of stone and drama and doom and gloom, and now he was gonna die a painful death anyways. Because he did not figure those hunter bastards would let him cross over peacefully. Hell fucking no. He looked down at the werewolf lady with a softer gaze this time as she told him she wished she was hallucinating. Suddenly he felt for her, because unlike him, she did not know what it was like to die. She had never died before, she was scared as fuck for death. While all Thomas knew was that it only hurt for a moment and then you were gone. Though once again that probably did not count for the situation they were in. "Well then, close your eyes and imagine the Manuka Meadows where you're joyfully prancing around, wearing silver bracelets for some weird reason." The ghost said softly, his voice clearly less vicious and sneering as the previous words he had spoken to her. When she said she couldn't help but cry, he sank down to his knees, letting out some soothing hisses that he did not even know he possessed. Rosabella had been the only person who could pull that softer, sweeter person he had inside of him to the surface, but maybe extraordinary times called for extraordinary measures. And for Thomas this certainly was an extraordinary measure. "Just try to breathe. In.. and out.. In.. and out.. There we go." He wanted to tell her dying didn't hurt as much as she was probably anticipating, but then again he figured she'd probably freak out when he said that. So he just tried to make her calm down by the calm and steady tone of his voice, telling her to breathe. And he hoped it worked, he really hoped it did because he didn't know what he'd do otherwise. Then he'd be out of tricks. Thomas had never been good with crying women, he just.. ugh. Women just shouldn't cry alright, that was like the meanest persuasion trick ever. If female tears can even draw the sweet, comforting guy out of Thomas Everdeen, they could nearly do anything. Damned womenfolk. He listened to her as she said she was part of the Way family and that that was why she was here. "Well. At least you have some sort of crappy reason to be here. I mean, I'm already dead, why can't they just let me be?" He said, curving an eyebrow as it truly did annoy him. Who were they to imprison him while all he wanted was to be left alone? He did not taunt humans (well, maybe occasionally he did, but not like evil bad ass like bullying, he wasn't a damn poltergeist), he just minded his own business and did not need these hunters all up his ass. He nodded as she continued about their escape plan, listening to every word she said seriously. He felt like they atleast had to try, so he got as close to her as he possibly could without touching the iron, his voice not louder than a whisper only to be picked up by her enhanced hearing. "Listen. When they get in here, they will most likely get to you first. Since you're the most dangerous one of us two. So what we need to do is get me out of this cage, so I can fend them off and you can try to get out of those cuffs. And the-" His voice was cut off as the door opened and the hunters came inside. Well fuck. They were doomed. If there was any God above, looking down at all this mess, now might be the time so send Thomas a sign that he truly did exist. Because he sure as hell did not want to cross over yet. Ever changing the storyline that keeps me alive tags: emily/harper <333 word count: 1483 notes: asdfghjklkdhhajdfld <3333 this template was made by madcap @ caution.

[HARPER NICOLE WAY]

[style=width: 400px; font-family: georgia; text-align: center; font-size: 30px; line-height:40px; letter-spacing: -1px; text-transform: uppercase; color: firebrick; border-bottom: 1px dotted firebrick;]under a paper moon

this real life just isn't right lets get away

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[style=width: 395px; font-family: arial; text-transform: lowercase; text-align: justify; font-size: 10px; color: white; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]This was how it was going to end? This was seriously how it was going to go down in flames? Without hardly a fight? She couldn’t fight. Harper knew the reality of trying to go her against all the other men in there. Men who trained themselves to deal with supernatural creatures like herself. She knew the man in charge. She knew his power and influence on the hunter nation. If there were ever to be a hunter to be truly afraid of- it would have been Jackson Duval. Had anyone even escaped is grasp before? She thought perhaps so, but not in her own readings and sightings. It had been a long time since she thought of the possibility of being captured or killed by a hunter. There had always been horror stories. Stuff that she was told by her older cousins to scare little Harper from the night. She never thought something like this would be so extreme. She actually wished they’d come down and get it over with, but no. That wasn’t the plague’s style, now was it?

It was curious that she wasn’t alone though. To someone who apparently wasn’t as important as her. Which was actually a very silly thought. She had never been the type to think that because she was a Way, she was better than other supernaturals. All it was, was a large family with a lot of money. It didn’t make her superior to others around her. That’s what bugged her the most when she heard it from her own family members. Harper was much more open-minded. The typical college kid that would protest and hold up a bunch of signs if she felt the particular subject needed it. Still, no matter what she thought, her last name meant something to the world of hunters as much as it did to the world of supernaturals. Make them weaker. Her family was very split on the human issue, but she knew everything would be lost if she did. They had no idea they were writing their own death wish.

Harper did feel a little bad that she seemed to annoy this man beyond comprehension, but she was no doormat. She wasn’t going to change her panic because it bothered him. She was trying to change her panic so that she could think logically. It would help if he could help. Maybe be more than an extremely pretty face. Under different circumstances, he would have been the type of guy that Harper would look at from a distance, trying to figure out if someone could possibly be that attractive. Then of course never end up talking to him because if she did, it’d be something completely stupid, strange, weird, and awkward. Sometimes, things just came out of her mouth without another thought. He’d look at her just as oddly and walk away. That would happen outside of this, she was sure. It had happened plenty of times before. Her awkward behavior just increased, but this was completely different. This was the edge.

She didn’t know what it was, but suddenly, he changed. The hard face softened. Harper found it hard to look at him between the dark and her fuzzy vision from crying this whole time. Her heart was still racing and her blood felt hot, but peering at him like that made her relax a little more. Those blue eyes were still bright under the dim light. Harper found herself feeling strangely better just looking into that face. Her stomach twisted, but she didn’t look away. Maybe during another time, she would have giggled at his suggestion and done it. This time, she just looked at him for a few more times. Closing her eyes, she did picture it. It was an odd request, but there was something about picturing her somewhere else. Harper did not have much creativity. Never would have thought something this simple would have at least calmed her enough down so that her brain could focus on one thing at a time. She was still crying at that point though. Her breaths un-heavy and shallow. Making her dizzy.

He must have noticed that too because she started taking deep breaths like he instructed. Instructions. So simple, but that’s what she liked. All these complications in her life came with no solution to end matters. Nothing seemed likely. She wasn’t able to go out and find an instruction manual ‘What you do when you cheat’. When her life was going through a hell. She was falling deeper. Who would notice she was gone? For how long? Harper had no idea. Her pack maybe. ”T-thank you.” She sniffed, using her hand to wipe some tears off. The iron touched her cheek and she yelped much like a pup that just got kicked. The feeling of helplessness came again.

As much as Thomas hadn’t been helping before, he was helping now. She didn’t know what suddenly changed him, but she was silently grateful for it. He was now on his knees, looking at her more eye-to-eye. The ghost frustratingly told her he didn’t know why he was here. The death part about ghosts, demons, fallens, and angels always made her curious. They had died before. They knew how it felt. ”How long have you been around?” She asked. What wonders he must have known. What parts of history he must have gone through. Now that was interesting to Harper, and at the moment, it was giving her a very small temporary distraction. As the steps came, however, she snapped harder back into reality more than she ever had done before. Her paniced mind increased and the tears came again despite herself. She backed up, knowing that it wasn’t going to exactly do her any good, but only doing what her instinct told her to do. Thomas had been starting on a plan, but everything he just said escaped her mind (which didn’t happen often). With one last sad frightened look at Thomas with her big green eyes, the men that came down took her chains off, but fought one hell of a grip. Dragging her upstairs and strapping her down to another table, she was faced with a masked men with a silver knife in his hand. ”Sorry sweetheart. This won’t be pleasant for you. Maybe you can think of it as a better chance for the human kind.” Was his only words as the point trailed down her hand, putting harder pressure, cutting the skin deeper the farther up her arm it went. Harper screamed.

---

Harper’s voice was raspy. She had been screaming for so long that her voice felt like it went out. Her entire body was throbbing with pain. Some parts he had cut in the beginning were now numb. They patched her up a little bit so she wouldn’t be bleeding to death. Her red hair now soaked in her own blood. She felt tired. Angry. Hopeless. She didn’t even give a struggle when they dragged her back down the stairs, cuffing her and no doubt planning Thomas’ little session upstairs. They moved back upstairs, Harper hearing mutters about ‘ready yet?’ and ‘almost’ but not caring to hear anything else. She had never been through something even close to this. This… it almost made her angry of all the times movies re-played this. It was entertainment for them. Why else would they do it? He kept saying something about punishment for the years she had been a werewolf. This was why supernaturals hated fucking humans. What were they doing? Harper lay there, knowing every move she made was just going to hurt. ”We… we have to…” She swallowed. Her voice sounded God awful. ”Get out of here. It won’t happen today.” Empathy in her voice. It meant Thomas was getting his soon. Harper knew that no matter what, they couldn’t escape that day. She was too weak. They were too on edge. Besides, Harper could hardly think. Though she wasn’t crying anymore. She stopped a while ago, feeling there was no more left in her.

TAGS: DINO/THOMAS || NOTES: JFOEPJAWOFEJWAFP DEAD NOPE DEAD|| WORDS: 1349

♥thanks

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[THOMAS RAPHAEL EVERDEEN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #f1f1f1] Say it once, tell me twice, be certain I’m alright make a wish, just a sign, to remind me That tomorrow’s worth the fight Suddenly it occurred to Thomas that maybe he was here because he was always being such an insufferable dick to people. Maybe this was God's way of saying 'fuck you', you mistreat everybody now I'm going to mistreat you. But his motives had always been pure. He had never enjoyed giant crowds and a lot of acquaintances, or just people at all, he had always been a loner. And after swallowing the bitter pill of realizing that he wasn't dead and peace but was stuck here in some sort of limbo being neither dead nor alive, well Thomas apologized, but his mood hadn't increased because of that. The first let's say, 20 years? he had tried to figure out everything there was about getting solid, about all his ghostly things since nobody had ever wanted to help him. He had done everything on his own and it was why despite himself and his attitude he couldn't help but help those who needed him. He had secretly helped Devin a little, and he'd help Becca if she asked him to, since though he was sure that Julian had way more patience than Thomas did, he was way way older and had way more experience. Not that he was actually proud of any of that, because dear God, how delightful it sounded to have completed your mission and be done with it and just enjoy heaven for the rest of your eternity? Everything was better than this. Even hell was better than this and hell was probably what Thomas would get. He wasn't Mr. Goody-two-shoes who went to heaven because he deserved it. Sometimes Thomas considered just saving up his money and just buying an island somewhere in the middle of the ocean and just stay there for the rest of his eternal life. See, that was the drag about being immortal. Humans striving for it, people selling their soul for it, wanting to get turned for it, they just don't understand. Immortality is fun, for the first let's say, 50 years. Max. After that you get tired of the constant moving around, seeing people die, being chased out of towns, you grow bored. Immortality was boring, especially if you had no goal. And Thomas had spent the last 300 years on one goal, finding his girlfriend and apologize to her, to make things right and hopefully spend his eternity with her because when he was with her, he didn't want to move on, he wanted to stay. And probably then he'd be that lucky bastard who didn't get to stay. Because God seemed to like to make his life as miserable as possible. It was his hobby or something, hell Thomas didn't even know, but he wished the old man just wasted his time elsewhere, where stupid humans were throwing axes at each other's heads and shooting each other over nothing. Religion, what was there to fight about. He just felt bad for the girl, alright. Sometimes people grew on the grumpy ghost and tears were definitely something that melted him down, since he couldn't handle tears. Tears were awful, they made him feel all sad and like a jackass inside, and he didn't like that. Even if he was a jackass. She seemed to calm down, which made him feel a little lighter, she seemed to focus on him and actually listen, which a moment ago he hadn't thought was possible, not with this frantic werewolf. But she closed her eyes and he just joined her, since he sure as hell preferred to be in a meadow as well now, though it was rather difficult to make something cool out of the cage he was in. He told her to breathe, she breathed. She calmed down. This was great, now they could focus on how to get out of here, because they had to. Thomas wasn't willing to crossover yet, he wasn't willing to stop his search yet, he still had to find Rosabella. He had to find her, he knew she was here, why hadn't she come to search him too? He knew why, because for 1) she thought he was dead and 2) would you go find the person who nearly got you killed? I don't think so. She asked him how old he was, and Thomas let out a sigh, shaking his head and burying it in his hands. "I am 323 years old." He replied, brushing a hand through his thick brown hair. In the eyes of mortals 323 years old seemed like a long long time, but in the world of the immortals, he was like a tiny kid. Sure, he was quite old for a ghost, since ghosts didn't tend to stay in this world for so long, most often they crossed over rather fast, and since they weren't strong for immortals, not even for mortals, they were easy to get rid off. Their only advantage was the fact that they can disappear and get invisible, but as you can see, even that the hunters had found a remedy against. He went to say more, wanted to say more, but then the door opened again and he shot up as they dragged Harper with them. He was worried about her, because he knew this wouldn't go well. The ghost slammed his hands against the bars, jumping back with a sneer on his face as it burned his skin. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Everything about this was horrible. Thomas had been able to hear Harper's screams, every single one of them sending a shiver over his spine. And then she came back and she looked horrible, and all he could think about, was the fact that he was next. And he wondered how they were gonna torture him, even. He was a ghost, he didn't bleed or anything, hell his body wasn't even truly real. He was stuck in limbo and he wasn't even sure how they were gonna do this. He didn't know whether he wanted to know either. She was stuttering again, but the crying was gone. She seemed so numb, so different than before, and Thomas felt bad for her. He had lived through his life, he had lived through a ton of limbo-lives, if he had to cross over now, that was the way it was, even if he didn't want it to, even if he would fight that till his very last breath. But if that was the way it was, then that's it. But Harper.. Harper had an entire life ahead of her, she seemed young, she was mortal, there was so much she hadn't seen yet, so much she could still do. Letting out a sigh, Thomas sat down completely now, careful to not press his back against the spiles of the cage as he took a deep breath and looked at Harper, straight at her and her wounds and said:"We'll make them pay for this." And then they came to get him. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Thomas had fallen completely silent by the time they had brought him back in his cage, with a face as hard as stone. He didn't look that bad, he didn't bleed or anything, since ghosts do not bleed, but he could not bring himself to talk about what had happened. They had been really hard on him, since the ghost hadn't screamed. Not once had he done anything else than look at them with the same ominous sneer that said 'I will get you for this'. I will make you pay. Because Thomas wasn't the guy to scream or anything, he had been through enough. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. Nevertheless, that didn't mean they stopped trying and trying and trying, and the ghost had felt like it went on forever, cringing a little harder every time. But he had managed and though every part of him was ringing and he had shut himself off completely, he had managed. They hadn't gotten a single scream or curse out of him. He had stood there in dead silence, he had taken everything they threw at him, and not said a word. Not one single sound had left his lips. As he got back in his cell, the man sat down, leaning his back against the cage spiles. It burned and made him feel all weird, but Thomas was beyond caring. He did not feel it anymore. "Y'know, I was born in the year 1689." The ghost said suddenly as he looked at his companion, the kindred spirit who went through the same as he did. Story time might be the best way to distract them. "This is not a happy story, by the way, just to warn you." He continued with a shrug, but there was no sarcasm or anything in his voice, his tone was soft, but above all bitter. Bitter like the bitter old man he really was inside. "But if you want to hear it.. It might help you sleep, bed time stories." Thomas said with a smirk, leaning his head against the cage for a short time before pulling it back. Ghosts didn't sleep, so that wasn't really his problem, but he knew Harper would need her rest for the next day to come. "I don't normally do this, so this is a chance of a lifetime offer." He continued, shrugging again. It was true though, when he came to think of it. Thomas had never before told anyone his life story. Not how old he was, not when he had died, how he had died. But somehow it seemed less significant to keep to himself, and he felt the need to share it at least with one person before he would be forced to cross over. And she'd die. Ever changing the storyline that keeps me alive tags: emily/harper <333 word count: 1623 x.x notes: asdfghjklkdhhajdfld i am beyond dead. beyond a ghost, limbo, the afterlife, everything. but story time! this template was made by madcap @ caution.

[HARPER NICOLE WAY]

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this real life just isn't right lets get away

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[style=width: 395px; font-family: arial; text-transform: lowercase; text-align: justify; font-size: 10px; color: white; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]Harper, in the past, always had a hate love relationship with distractions. On one hand, they distracted her and often made her more interested in what she was supposed to be doing. On the other hand, they were distracting from what she needed to do. In this case, she was complete love on distractions. Anything. She didn’t care if they start talking about the weather as long as it would calm her down. She was very aware how she looked. Sobbing hard and looking like a frantic woman running around being useless. In her defense, that’s exactly how she felt. Running around and unsure where to go. This place seemed like it only had one way out. Death. Not even the bolted door the people came out of was an option. She could imagine how much security they had there. No one would have any idea where to look for her. She knew no detectives. Her pack would get worried. She hoped Wyatt would be worried. Her family frantic. There was a little satisfaction knowing so many individuals would be looking for her, but the chances of them actually finding her? That’s what she couldn’t get past.

Maybe she should have fought her when they had her. Before she got here to no end. Harper did try, but she wondered if she could have tried harder. Bearing through any pain to be set free. The woman knew she had to stay strong. She wasn’t a weak person, but it was amazing how fast even the biggest and boldest could crack down. This wasn’t as simple as a parent slapping a child for bad behavior. All the stuff on TV now appeared twisted in her eyes. Why would someone even put this on television? Even if it was faking and a bunch of actors screaming? It wasn’t entertaining. It wasn’t funny. There was no reason to place it on there except to show maybe how horrible something was. Don’t you think enough of that could be a given? She didn’t know. She was also talking crazy and a million and a half things going through her head. The only thing steady was in front of her. The stranger Thomas. Who appeared oddly calm about all of this, but that could have been an act. Hiding it all. Harper wanted to know how the hell he did it.

Calming her down seemed like such a strange thing at this point. How it worked, she wasn’t even sure she knew, but whatever it was, she kept her eyes on it like it would be death then and there if she looked away. The age was incredible. Maybe on another occasion Harper could have awkwardly tried to flirt ‘oh you look good for your age’ but nothing like that humor could come out of her head. ”Wow. So you’ve been around for a while” Watching him put a hand through his jet black hair. As if in response, Harper reached up and tangled a hand in her red hair, scratching it and pulling at it, giving her something else to do. His response should have been normal for a ghost. Most ghosts who were solid had been there for a while. She supposed in retrospect to the world, it was something very young, but think of all the places and events he witnessed. He lived. If Harper had been more interested in history, perhaps she would have freaked out and asked a billion questions, but history was her worse subject. Besides English perhaps. Unfortunately that’s as far as she got before anything else pleasant crossed her mind.

---

Her bright red hair was sticky with her own blood. Her skin covered in the same substance. Cuts and bruises that weren’t going to heal in a long while. There was no energy left in her. Laying there and looking at him seemed to be the best ending to this plan. She had always been a compassionate person and though there was not much feeling in her now, she knew exactly what was coming to Thomas. Though the pair hadn’t really known each other for any time at all, she knew what was coming for him. It hurt her to think that was going to be repeated. Ghosts didn’t bleed, but she would bet money they still felt the same amount of pain. It wasn’t the bleeding she even cared about. It made her a broken mess, but that was just looks and perhaps a little more dizziness. Everything else. There was everything else. Suddenly, she realized how much she really didn’t want this mere stranger to have to go through that. Beyond the fact she was generally very compassionate with others. It was straight up wanting to put herself go through again if it meant he would avoid it. She didn’t know why this sudden feeling came up, but it did. She looked and watched his lips move the words, ‘we’ll make them pay for this. She wasn’t a vengeful person, but yes. This was certain.

---

She hadn’t heard a word out of him. The rooms weren’t sound-proof. She knew from listening to the murmured whispers, but he was strong and kept his tongue. Not everyone was a screamer like she was, but she still was very impressed with this. For a while, she just listened. There was really nothing else she could do. She lay on the stone floor, smelling the dampness like any dungeon would have. The floor was freezing, but it soothed her aching sores a little bit and kept it a little more numb. Her hair was wet from sweat. Not a pleasant sight. When he entered once again, she only moved her eyes. Glancing up just to see the figures of bodies moving through, not seeing the stone cold face of Thomas coming back in. It was hard to look at the man who had just been tortured. Why? If they really hated supernaturals as much as they said, wouldn’t it make sense to get rid of them as soon as possible? Not that Harper wanted to die. Lord no. But she was pretty sure she prayed for death a few times in the middle. Out of desperation.

For a moment, she thought they were going to stay there in silence. When he started to speak, she slowly turned her head toward him, blinking sleepy eyes (though she knew that sleep was going to be impossible until she was so exhausted she passed out) at him. 1689. That felt so long ago. Before America was a country. Before all that started, right? She turned so that she was able to face him with less effort. No, she didn’t think it was a very happy story considering he was a walking ghost. Meant something was holding him here. A soft painful grin spread across her face as she thought of bedtime stories. ”You’ve got me interested now.” Was that humor in her voice? Harper wasn’t sure what it was, but it wasn’t something crying, so that’s all that mattered at this point, wasn’t it? ”What happened all that time ago?’ She asked, lifting herself up a little more. What was haunting behind those intense blue eyes of his?

TAGS: DINO/THOMAS || NOTES: JFOEPJAWOFEJWAFP AH AH THOMAS THOMAS AND HARPER WHY THEY HURTIN SO MUCH </3|| WORDS: 1208

♥thanks

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[THOMAS RAPHAEL EVERDEEN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #f1f1f1] Say it once, tell me twice, be certain I’m alright make a wish, just a sign, to remind me That tomorrow’s worth the fight Thomas had never needed any distractions in order to keep himself in check or not freak out. He had this ability to just shut his emotions off, and sometimes in such a way that he wondered whether he even still had them, since most people seemed to wonder about it. It was truly clear to him that he did not give a shit about anything in this world, other than his own mission. He didn't care about any sort or form of war, about who slaughtered who and who were the innocent victims of that. Death happened, and when you went it was your time, and humans better start accepting that instead of all the pathetic mourning over something that cannot be reversed. Life was the way it was and accepting it was the only way, and fighting against it would never work, since life had a bigger plan for you, it had a predestined path for you and though there would be crossroads and places where you'd decide how your life would go, death was the final station, and the road just didn't continue after that. Death wasn't a choice, it wasn't something that could be avoided. Likewise here he was, knowing that if he were to be forced to cross over tonight, there was nothing he'd be able to do about it. Sure, he could try and fight,but if this was his final stop (finally), then it would be that way and he couldn't avert his path. And for himself, he was fine with going, he did not need to stay if that wasn't what was in the plans for him. Thomas was tired, tired of life and it's annoying humans, tired of chasing a daydream that he'd probably never find, tired of.. well everything. But Harper? Harper was so young, she still had so much in life to see, and Thomas would really wish for her to still see that, even if that was such a sentimental thought he nearly made himself nauseous. It had all seemed like such a great plan to him, after his first plan failed so miserably that he wasn't even sure why the hell he had thought selling Rosabella to the Inquisitors was a smart plan, and how they just killed him afterwards. He hadn't taken into account that he wouldn't actually die but come back as this neither-alive-nor-dead sort of cynical fog, who could appear and disappear to his own command, after a while of practice of course. First he couldn't get solid, then he couldn't get invisible again, until he had finally gotten the hang of the whole 'ghostly-powers' thing and got them all covered. He just figured that if he gave off that vibe of 'I don't want to be bothered' that then people would leave him alone, and get the message, but clearly that was the hardest part of the mission. It appeared that the more hostile and cynical you were to people, the more they were drawn to you like magnets, it was truly astonishing him how that seemed to work, but clearly they wanted to be bitched at just to have something to laugh at or have someone tell them the truth even though it hurt their feelings. Thomas didn't know, humans were so so so weird. Like the way he was sitting here now with the young werewolf. And as bad as it was for her, as much as it sucked, she had a reason to be here. The whole 'giant ass werewolf family' thing for some reason automatically turned you into a target. Thomas though? He was just a grumpy ghost minding his own business who always got bothered by other people when he wanted to be alone. He didn't get what the hell they wanted from him and why they couldn't just leave him be as he was just minding his own business, not harming anybody. If anything, humans only harmed him with their constant need for attention from someone who wasn't willing to give it. Harper seemed to calm down though, finally. If there was one thing Thomas couldn't stand it was dramatics, they were not for him, and he was not gonna give in to that. Was he scared? Maybe somewhere deep inside, but the ghost had become so good at numbing his feelings and pretending they didn't exist that he actually believed it sometimes, which was why so few people actually grew a soft spot on him, but it happened, so it meant he wasn't entirely emotionless yet, at least, not as much as he'd like to think. She seemed truly impressed by his age, though Thomas knew that he was just a toddler to some other, truly ancient supernaturals, who had been walking around this earth for over thousand, two-thousand years. They were the ones to marvel with respect, but unfortunately they were also usually the ones who wanted to wipe out the human society because they thought humans were useless. I mean, Thomas could see their point in some way, but he didn't think a genocide was the answer to it either. "Yeah well, in the immortal world, 300 years is not that many yet. But yes, I've been around for a while now." He replied gently, breathing in and out calmly, wanting to channel it over to her, to calm her down completely. There was no use in getting all upset, the only thing to do right now was get a clear mind, figure stuff out and do something. Because that was their only chance at survival, and the only way for her to get out of here alive. "I know you don't ask ladies for their age, but I've never been one for the manners, so how old are you?" The ghost said, his blue eyes fixated on the girl locked up in her shackles and chains, and he actually felt bad for her. Thomas was in a cage, but it was not that bad. She was all chained up. But before he could say another word they already took her. And later, they also took him. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- When Thomas came back from his tortures, all he wanted to do was not talk, not think, just be completely empty, the way he could be whenever he was hurt or in pain. It was his defense mechanism, since the ghost had been wronged quite some times and he wasn't willing to let it happen. He had been slaving away all of his mortal life, and Rosabella had been the one to get him educated, to make sure he could do something. And as a reward he had sold her off to the people who would murder her. He didn't know why he wanted to tell this story to a girl who he didn't even really know, but figuring that he'd be dead by tomorrow, he realized he had to tell someone. He didn't know why he felt that urge, and it made him feel stupid, but he figured they could both use the distraction. "Well, like I said, I was born in 1689. My parents were poor farmers who had to slave all their living days to pay the rent to our landlord, and when they didn't succeed, the landlord would come to claim something of our possession. First the chicken, then our pig and the cows. In the end we had one cow, and an old horse with a plough. I never thought it was fair, but I had always worked on the land ever since I was a little boy, so I never went to school and never knew that life could be anything else. My parents never taught me, so I became a narrow-minded farmer much like them, whose care did not go much further than their land and paying the rent." Thomas told his story and a calm and gentle tone, a bit softly because for some reason he did not want the hunters to hear this. This was personal, this was his. "And then I met this girl, this wonderfully beautiful girl. I remember the first time I saw her, with her dark hair and those deep eyes. She seemed to know all about the world and had this attitude of being wise beyond her years. We fell in love, she taught me how to use the intelligence that I do possess, taught me how to read and write, to really think about stuff. Her name was Rosabella." Thomas continued, a soft, tender smile forming on his lips as he mentioned the love of his life, the girl he had been chasing for as long as he could remember. Rosabella, his Rosabella, who he should have never let go. "Together with her I now was able to come up with ways to taunt the upperclass a little, to show them that they didn't completely own me. It was stupid, but I don't think I ever felt as happy as back then." Should he have known what was coming for him? Should he have realized that and stopped before it was too late, before he had signed his own death warrant and lost the one person he had always cared about? "I was 20 when my father died, and I became the head of the farm. Which my landlord liked, because now he could get back at me for everything I had done to him, and he doubled our rent, or we'd be kicked out." His facial expression darkened as he got to the next part, the part in which he would have to tell the one deed he was actually and truly sorry for. The only thing in his life that he had ever regretted. "Of course we didn't have such money. And then.. Then Rosabella told me what she was. She was a supernatural, and me as mere human.. I freaked out. And I sold her to the Inquisitors, so I could save my family for a while." Thomas looked away from Harper now, gazing into the big nothing with a blank expression on his face. He didn't want to talk about this, he didn't want to think about it. He felt so ashamed and was so angry with himself. "So I went to Rosabella, I told her.. I told her everything was alright. And then I led her straight to the Inquisitors, who took her captive to put her up for the witch trial. I tried to wipe her existence from my memories, but I just... I couldn't. I did it to save my family, but I had sacrificed something so precious, someone I should have been so grateful to. And then.. Then they suddenly stood on my porch, saying I was infected because I had sex with the witch. I got my very own 'with trial' and they dumped me in the lake, where I obviously drowned, but I'll spare you the details about that one." For the first time since the start of their conversation, Thomas' expressionless face truly showed a hint of pain crossing his face like a flash, before it composed himself again. His history had never been something he liked to share. "The funny thing is that when you don't die, at first you don't realize it. You try to talk to people, but they just ignore you. Nobody can see you, hear you or touch you. And nobody's there to tell you what is going on, or help you with whatever new 'powers' you have. That day I found out that Rosabella escaped, through what guards were saying to each other. And I've spent the next 300 years trying to find her. To say I'm sorry, and that what I did to her was unforgivable, but that I hope she'll forgive me anyways, for I was just a stupid farm boy." He said, concluding his life story which had been so long he could hardly even remember the true details himself anymore. He watched Harper and how sleepy she was, and let out a soft sigh. "And that was my sob story. You should sleep, Harper. Good night." The ghost said, before gazing off in the distance again, lost in his own thoughts about the past, while waiting for the morning to come. Ever changing the storyline that keeps me alive tags: emily/harper <333 word count: 2044 x.x notes: sorry for the huge amount of words, but so so so many feels x.x this template was made by madcap @ caution.