Only the dead can speak(Open)

[Everett Vernon]

He hadn't been to New Orleans in sometime....maybe about 100 years ago he had come to the only place that he felt was more closer to the dead than the living. It was actually one of his favorite places to go, but with his hectic schedule he hadn't had anytime to go somewhere that he liked and actually consented to. The place was filled with history; from its old Victorian homes to French Quarters and not forgetting the voodoo folklore and traditions.

One of his favorite places to go where the above ground cemetery. Even to this day, some voodoo priest and witches like to come there and practice their beliefs and cast spells. He pulled up to the backside of the cemetery, turning his bike off and swung his legs over the side. He sat on the seat for a moment, taking out a pack of cigarettes from his leather jacket pocket and took a long drag. He'd been driving for miles and miles just to come back here.

It was starting to just become dark now, the sun was almost disappearing along the horizon. The sky was painted with dark colors of blues, pinks and purples. The cemetery was very peaceful to be filled with the dead, he actually didn't sense anyone here and only heard the sound of frogs croaking and birds chirping. He took his jacket off, revealing a red plaid sleeveless button shirt underneath and stretched his arms out before standing up and jumped the high stone wall that surrounded the cemetery like a fortress. He sat, perched on the wall like a bird of prey waiting to strike and looked out over the grounds before jumping down and started walking around.

Soon darkness fell on New Orleans and the night time crowd would be coming out about now in the city. He blocked all sound that could be heard from the city goers and just wanted to have some peace and quiet. He sat down on a broken tomb that had no name or date of the dead inhabitant and shift his piercing blue eyes around, focusing on one particular direction when he sense that he wasn't alone here.  

[Guinevere Cassidy]

It had taken far too long for Guinevere to learn of her heritage. 

Okay, truth be told, she didn't know all of it; all she knew was that she was descended from a line of powerful Witches, all of which had been female. Her mother had been a Witch, and her mother, and no one had bothered to tell her. (It would be a true surprise when Guin learned she was also a daughter of Titania, but that was a revelation for another time, perhaps.) Guinevere knew her mother had probably had good intentions behind everything she had done, but to hide that from her...

She had to learn more, both about herself and her abilities. And, though she was still on the run from her husband, she had returned to the United States. Perhaps that would throw him off her trail, she though, shrugging her bag higher onto her shoulder. Besides, she had come to New Orleans with a purpose: to learn more about her heritage and maybe even figure out her powers -- if she even had any. 

Guinevere had come under the tutelage of an ancient Witch, one who had spent more time immersed in magic than anything else. She had claimed to be the daughter of a goddess, though for the life of her Guin couldn't remember which one, and had promised to teach Guin enough to get her started. But it would take work, and apparently work meant learning how to gather your own supplies. It was something she was not keen on doing, but at least it would get her out of the apartment.

Serena, for that was the Witch's name, had instructed her to gather mushrooms, weeds and dirt from the local graveyard. In her bag, she carried a handful of sweets; offers to the spirits for letting her have some of their resting dirt. Her fingers, long and lithe, surrounded a sweet cake as, finally, she approached one of the graves.

Mary Finch, read the tombstone. 1837-1841. Just a babe when she died. 

Her breath caught in her throat, but Guinevere knew she had come too far to stop now. With trembling hands, she lowered the sweet cake to rest just in front of the gravestone. Her voice trembled as she murmured, "I hope this little offering will allow me to borrow some of your dirt, Mary. I would very much like some."

When no tiny bone hand reached out to grab her, Guinevere removed a jar from her bag and began to slowly scoop a bit of dirt in there. All she needed was half a jar, and then she would close it and label it. A child had been buried here, and that would make the dirt all the better to use. It made a shudder roll down her back, to know what she was doing.

"I'm so sorry for what happened to you," she murmured, continuing to talk to what could possibly be an empty graveyard. She didn't even know if Mary's little spirit still lingered here. "You were so young. I can only imagine it was sickness. But your little life snuffed out before its time... I'm so sorry, Mary."

WORDS ;; 541
THOUGHTS ;; Oh god I hope I don't die. (Oh my god this took forever I am so sorry.)
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Everett Vernon
CREDIT ;; pretty funny in dogfight

[Everett Vernon]

A witch? He said nothing, his face practically void of any notion that their was another being in the graveyard and one that he hadn't come across. He could see her in the darkness, his keen eyes focusing on her movements. She appeared to be putting something into a container. He watched with curiosity now, wondering what she was doing and why she would need to do whatever it was that she was doing.

He stepped off the tombstone now and slowly made his way over, standing behind the tombstone she was in front of but facing her. He listened to her soft spoken words and wondered if maybe she knew who this person was that seemed to be buried here.

Did you know her?  He asked in his usually scruff tone that had a twang of southern.

His bright blue eyes looked down at the rather pretty witch that was speaking to the tombstone. He peered over and saw the words she had read and leaned back to give her some room. He knew how it felt to have someone you don't know alittle to close for comfort and didn't want her to feel overwhelmed by his presence.

He kept his respectful distance now, not sure how she would react to him suddenly appearing. She obviously didn't know he was here, he could sense her quite well and see her as if she was only a few feet away from him. He was somewhat awkward shifting on his feet now, although he looked like he would have belonged in some bike gang, he certainly didn't act like that.

[Guinevere Cassidy]

She gathered an entire mason jar of dirt, pausing only to thank the little girl a few more times. She knew better than to take things from the dead without being properly grateful. Sometimes, one could get away with it, especially if the dead had completely passed on. But if those who had passed had left something behind, whether their spirit or their imprint on the graveyard, then not offering proper thanks or treats would lead to a haunting like you had never experienced.

Guinevere had only just screwed the top on the jar when she noticed something -- or rather, someone -- standing nearby. She lifted her head, curious if it was a spirit. It was too tall to be Mary's spirit, as he seemed to lift above the tombstone, but one quick glance revealed that he was all flesh and blood. Unable to help herself, Guinevere screamed, scrambling back, and clutched the little mason jar to her chest. She could feel her heart speeding up in her chest, pounding against her rib cage.

"No." She squeaked the word out, faster than she cared to help it. It might have sounded suspicious, if she wasn't trembling against the graveyard dirt. "No, she's... she died over a hundred years ago. Probably some sort of flue or plague, if I'm to guess, but I'm not... entirely..." Guin trailed off, realizing that he probably did not care about the girl, or how she had died, or even the history of this town. So she shut her mouth and looked behind him.

Okay, so he was alone. That was a good thing. There was just one of him and one of her. Normally, that wouldn't have been a problem to a Witch, but Guin was an untrained Witch. She only knew the basics, and that was only because she had to in order to survive and gather items. That was all her mentor had thought she had needed.

Right now, she really hated the old witch.

"Was I disturbing you?"

Oh, God, she really hoped he wasn't a demon, or a witch, or... anything more than human, really.

WORDS ;; 361
THOUGHTS ;; Oh god I hope I don't die. (Is still applicable.)
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Everett Vernon
CREDIT ;; pretty funny in dogfight

[Everett Vernon]

He didn't flinch from her screaming, but it did make him take a couple of steps back and wasn't sure if she was going to shot a fireball at him or something else. He did give a somewhat apologetic gaze though, he hadn't meant to frightened her.

When she finally regain her composure, he just cocked his head to the side some and watched her with a inquisitive gaze as to what she was trying to say. Truth, he didn't care about the history or anything and couldn't help but to hide a smirk when she finally trailed off her sentence in that realization that he truly didn't care. He noticed her glance behind him and turned to look over his shoulder, sensing no one was there and looked back to the witch.

Guess she was worst than he was about meeting new people or being around to many people...or maybe it was because he was a guy. There were women out there that didn't feel safe around a strange man and she could just being cautious which was a good thing because he was being the same with her. He had no idea if this witch was going to blast him away or if she had some sense and not fire without thinking.

He shook his head. No....I was just here to think....was I disturbing you? He asked now, hands in his leather jacket pocket and kept his blue eyes on her.

Sorry...didn't mean to scare ya....my ugly mug tends to do that time to time. He said, trying to maybe ease the situation with a light sense of humor. People often didn't understand his sense of humor though. He moved over to leaned against a large monument that towered over the tombstones around it, looking away from her now in hopes that it would ease her uneasiness about him.

[Guinevere Cassidy]

Guinevere hesitated only a second before shaking her head, figuring it wold be easier to go with the truth for right now. No, she wasn't doing anything too important, and no he had not been disturbing her. Well, not until he had decided to show up out of nowhere and ruin her concentration, of course. And it wasn't like he had totally scared the shit out of her. But that wasn't his fault; he hadn't known she would react that way.

"No," she said after a moment. "No, I was just here to... to collect some things, that's all. Basic things, for... for magic and..." Guin trailed off again, her eyes immediately finding the graveyard floor once more. She didn't want to let him think he was getting the best of her, especially since she couldn't figure out who or what he was. Was he a human? Was he a monster? 

It was probably best if she didn't find out.

Besides, what kind of human comes out to a graveyard to read, other than emo teenagers and the occasional murderer? Okay. Okay, no. Actually, it was probably better if she just stopped trying to think right now. Emo teenager had been a funny thought, but the other option... If only she had been able to handle herself. A fireball would have been nice, or maybe even a little blast of telekenesis. Something to defend herself with. Something, anything.

Eventually, Guinevere realized she needed to say something and murmured, "It's... It's okay. Really, I... I just didn't expect to see anyone in a graveyard so late." And that was the absolute truth. "Why were you out here so late? It's not exactly..."

WORDS ;; 304
THOUGHTS ;; Oh thank the gods he's not being an ass.
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Everett Vernon
CREDIT ;; pretty funny in dogfight

[Everett Vernon]

Did she know he was a vampire? He didn't know if witchs could sense what other beings were. In all honesty he didn't know much about witchs, only that they could cast spells.  He looked at her again when she spoke and cocked an eyebrow at what she said next.  Magic huh? He said and fished around in his pocket and pulled out a pack of smokes.

Even when he was human, he tended to do weird things.  His mannerism and habits stayed the same but his ways of thinking had changed. He lite one up, inhaling unnecessarily and breathed the smoke out through his nose.  He wondered if she thought he was some crazy person, it was a reasonable assumption, normal human beings didn't go out into the graveyard to just hang out. 

Like I said, to think got a problem with that? he asked in a somewhat matter of fact tone.

He looked around the graveyard again and didn't sense anything still. He could hear a block party going on inside of the city of New Orleans and looked back to her again. Can you sense what I am? he asked.

If she didn't know what he was then it made him wonder why she would just say it was for magic, that kinda made her look more like the crazy person than him. The thought that someone looked weirder or even alittle bit more saner than him made him almost chuckle inside. 

[Guinevere Cassidy]

Okay. Okay, so far everything was going well. He was pulling out a smoke and not trying to attack or kill her. That was even better. If her husband had sent him, she knew he would have been all over her by now. Her husband didn't hire slackers; he hired only those who would do the job and get the job done immediately. Those who would do the job right. That's what he had done the last time she had tried to run. The man had found her within three days.

Joseph had beaten her to the point Guin swore she saw Heaven. Or hell. 

Even hell had to be better than the life she had left behind. A life of do this right, don't forget to make dinner, oh we're having a party tonight and you're expected to host and cook and clean it all up... Joseph had wanted a perfect little trophy wife, and he had received one. She had spent five years cooking and cleaning and taking care of every little thing that came through his door. He was, after all, a businessman. He owned an entire company, and he had claimed that his home was a place where he had just wanted to relax.

But as soon as he mentioned sensing "what he was," Guin's heart began to speed up once more. Oh, gods. Oh, by the gods, she had come across a spirit. Or a demon. Or a vampire. Hell, what if he was a werewolf? There were so many things that he could have been, and none of them particularly good, that it made her scurry back a bit. It was better to deny everything, especially considering she actually had no idea what in the world he was.

So she shook her head, swallowing hard, "No. No, I..."

WORDS ;; 326
THOUGHTS ;; I'mma die. I'mma die. Holy shit, I'm dead.
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Everett Vernon
CREDIT ;; pretty funny in dogfight

[Everett Vernon]

Maybe this could be a chance to learn something about witches, he didn't know anything about witchs, only what he knew was somethings that he read in books but you couldn't learn everything from a book. It was better to learn from a actual being. He kept his attention on her now and wondered what she was thinking since he could hear her heart beating faster. Fear gripped her now and he cocked an eyebrow at what could cause her to suddenly be frightened all of a sidden.

So she didn't know what he was? Your a witch arent ya? he asked curiously now. He wasn't going to just tell her what he was but him asking that surely would set something in her brain that a mortal wouldn't just assume she was one.

He looked at the jar of dirt and then to her. Whats with the dirt, most normal people don't go around in a graveyard at night to collect dirt. He said and couldn't help but to smile some at the irony that she probably thought him being out here made him look strange when she was the one who was talking to tombstone and collecting dirt in a jar. If he were human he would have thought that she was the strange one here.



It wasnt that unusual to find someone in the cementary here in the city of the Orleans. With the practice of voodoo and the rich history of war and slagery, itbwasnt out of the norm to maybe see a voodoo priest here in the graveyard to gatherbhervs or even castbsone voodoo magic on burial ground as a qay to be closer to the dead. 

[Guinevere Cassidy]

Things were still going good. This was great. He had figured out she was a Witch, but, really, that wasn't hard to figure out. She was in a graveyard under the moon, and she had been out gathering graveyard dirt. It wasn't exactly the witchiest of things to do, as she could have been out destroying villages or brewing love potions, but it was pretty witchy. It was an obvious conclusion to come to. Now she just had to figure out what the hell he was, and why the hell he was out in the middle of a graveyard at night.

Was he a monster? 

Slowly, Guinevere pushed herself to her feet, though her eyes never left him. She wanted to be sure she knew what he was doing every step of the way, whether because he was a monster or simply because he was a man, she wasn't sure. But she watched him, even as she brought her bag to her chest, and even as she tucked the stolen dirt away into her bag. She was going to need to bring that back to Janiah, especially if she wanted to finish her lessons.

"It's for my mentor," she said, after a moment of consideration. The woman shifted the bag on her shoulder once more. "She wanted dirt from a grave, preferably of a child's. So I got what she wanted." And that much was true. What she didn't bother going into was that the dirt was less for a spell and more for the woman's religious practices, but that was a story for a different day. Besides, the guy didn't want all the nitty gritty details; he had already made that much clear.

"You don't have to worry," she assured him, "Neither of us are into necromancy. There won't be any raising of the dead any time soon."

WORDS ;; 332
THOUGHTS ;; This is so much better. Okay, I can handle this.
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Everett Vernon
CREDIT ;; pretty funny in dogfight

[Everett Vernon]

It was almost unsettling to him how much she watched him. He had no need to keep his eyes constantly on her, but then again he had extra senses that she didn't have. He knew she was only watching hin to make sure that he made no suspecious movement. He wouldn't hurt her, only defend himself against her but that was about it. You dont have to keep watching me, I'm not going to hurt you or anything. ...I know I  look like someone whos been in and out of jail.  He said and tturned his attention back to her. Some people always had the worst impression of him, which was somewhat okay with him till they start speculating and thats when his dark side comes out.

He remained eerily quiet as she explained that she was gathering supplies for her mentor.  Were they going to cast some raise the dead spell?  That would have been interesting to say the least.  He wanted to ask what kind of spell she would be performing but said nothing still as she reassured him that she wouldn't be raising the dead.  He smirked. Now what fun that would be.  He said and chuckled some at the thought of zombies walking around.  Talk about something out of a horror movie. 

Weve been carrying on a conversation and haven't even told each other our names.  He pointed out and stepped closer to her till she was at arms length of him and stuck out his hand. Names Everett. He said. He was unsure of how well she could actually see him in the dark, he could make out her entire features just fine. He looked like the type that would have committed a crime, people have said that to hin before so he didn't know if that was what she would really think ofvhin if she hadnt exactly gotten a good image of him until now.

[Guinevere Cassidy]

"Don't flatter yourself," she said, almost before the words could cross her mind, "I can't be bothered trusting you. It's nothing personal." 

That much was the truth, no matter how she tried to word it. She couldn't be bothered trusting anyone, but especially not strangers who showed up in graveyards in the middle of the night. Actually, they were the least likely to be trusted, considering everything she had just listed. He was a stranger. Normally, that wouldn't have been a problem, but he was there at a time that absolutely no good could happen. People didn't mourn loved ones at midnight, after all.

When he asked about her name, Guinevere debated only a second. If he worked with Joseph, he would know her name, and so revealing her name was the worst idea. If he didn't work with Joseph, then what harm was there in lying about her name? It wasn't as though he would learn the truth. They were going to meet here, briefly, and then go their separate ways. There was no need to trade true names.

So, instead, she gave off a name that could never be tied to hers: her grandmother's.

"Anya." Guinevere shoved her hands into her jacket pockets, shifted from one side to the other. Okay, so it wasn't her grandmother's full name, but it would be enough to get her through the day. Titania, hopefully, wouldn't mind. "Nice to meet you Everett." 

More or less. Terrifying was more like it, but she wasn't going to share that. She had to keep her head cool; that was one thing both her mother and her mentor had told her. To do magic, and to survive in stressful situations, one had to keep their heads cool and their hearts hot. Her tongue flicked out, to lick her lips.

Calm down, she told herself. Just calm down.

WORDS ;; 322
THOUGHTS ;; Just stay calm.
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Everett Vernon

[Everett Vernon]

Geez she was worst than he was when it came to people.  He wasn't rude about it.  He let his hand dropped now and had a feeling that she didn't give him her real name,  but kept that to himself for now.  If I wanted to hurt you then I would have done it by now I don't talk with people who Im aiming to kill. He said with a shake of his head.  This was why he didn't talk with alot of females, they were confusing as hell.

Let me guess, some guy abused you and now you dont trust people because why would someone hurt another they are suppose to love right?  He said and backed away from her again, sitting down on the grass and let his legs stretched out infront of him. 

Another scent caught his interest, he looked past her into the darkness. It smelt like another vampire was approaching them. Great, this was all he needed right now. He quickly got up now, staring out into the darkness at the dark figure that was lurking behind the witch. He could sense the malice in the vampires intentions and looked to her now.

I think you should be more scared and concern with the vampire lurking around in the shadows behind you. He now pointed out. He had no idea if this vampire was out to get her for blood or maybe a different reason all together. He didn't sense blood lust but why would a vampire be out to kill her, not like she let anyone in with the attitude she had towards others.

[Guinevere Cassidy]

"Like I said," she repeated, dusting off her skirt and adjusting her bag. "It's none of your business, and none of your concern, and it's definitely nothing personal. But that doesn't mean you get to smart your mouth off to me as if you know my life."

If there was anything that pissed Guinevere off more than anything else, it was someone just assuming things about her life. Sure, the asshole might have been right, but that didn't mean he got to just say things like that. It was rude, first off, and it was insulting to everything she had been through. Of course one just didn't survive abuse without some scars. Of course one didn't just move on from beatings and rapes without looking over your shoulder.

It was immature and childish, what the man had said. And it was just enough to turn her cheeks red and bring a fire in the woman that hadn't been stoked in a long, long time. If Guinevere was honest with herself, she might have realized that the fire brewing in her heart wasn't her own, but Titania's. The wind picked up a little as she continued:

"And another thing, you keep your opinions to yourself, asshole. Because people do hurt people they love, and I know why they do it. I'm not a confused and scared little girl, but you are a douche."

She turned to look over her shoulder at the vampire, reaching one hand into her bag, to remove a stake of ash wood. After all, her mentor was very knowledgeable, and she knew best when she had given Guin everything she needed to survive the graveyard at midnight. Carefully, the woman twirled the stake in her hand, murmuring words of protection under her breath.

If there was one way to turn Guinevere off, it was to insult her, especially if you were insulting her feelings. Years of living with an abuser had chipped away at her emotional security and self-confidence, until she was nothing but a quivering child. But now, years later, she knew she was allowed to feel. She was allowed her emotions, and she was allowed to distrust. And for someone else to scoff at all she had been through...

She would handle this fucking vampire herself, Gods dammit.

WORDS ;; 383
THOUGHTS ;; No, fuck you, asshole.
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Everett Vernon

[Everett Vernon]

Her words didn't really sting him or anything, he'd been called worst in his life and it wasn't anything new to him. He thought she was over reacting alittle, but he just shrugged it off and kept his attention more on the vampire that was lurking around in the shadows now. Whoever this guy was wasn't after him, but after the witch. If he didn't know any better, he assumed that the vampire was out to kill her because she was a bitch towards him or something.

Your a real piece of work lady, you know that. He commented without breaking his attention from the vampire.

This was getting on his nerves, if the vampire was going to make a move already then he needed to do it. Finally the asshole stepped out of the shadows, having this shit eating grin on his face. Your husband sends his love. The vampire said, knowing she would know what that meant.

Everett wasn't stupid, he started to piece two and two together. She was running from her husband, that explained alot. It actually reminded him some of what his own mother went through. He watched his mother being beaten down and felt so worthless that dirt was more important than her. He didn't like men abusing women or children, he looked to the witch now then back at the vampire.

Don't act like I don't know what I'm talking about....because I can see clearly what is going on here. Everett told the witch. He didn't feel sorry for her, no, people didn't like that but he did sympathize with her whether she liked it or not. The vampire hadn't made a move yet, he was contemplating on what his next move was going to be. Your husband has been looking for you, he'll be please to know that I've found you. The vampire added.