03.2023 | WELCOME BACK! Hello friends old and new! I'm so excited to welcome you all back to SITW! I've made some changes to the plot and added the ability to play supernatural charcaters! So come and check it out! I can't wait to jump back into this little town with all of you!
A strange history surrounds the town, it is a place where mysterious and supernatural things have been known to happen. The reputation of the town reguarly draws in visitors and newcomers alike. While some residents avidly believe in the supernatural, others are far more skeptical. What do you believe?
The russet color wolf had been walking for nearly three days. He’d started moving south, following this river and avoiding that main road. He had no particular destination in mind, simply to roam the countryside. To feel the earth beneath all four paws and the cold winter breeze over his thick fur coat. He was a kindred spirit with the gibbous moon, her soft glow glinting off the dusting of snow and making even the dark early hours of the evening easy to navigate with his night vision.
Tristan could smell the boundaries of another pack’s territory long before he was nearby. It didn’t surprise him to find other werewolves in the middle of nowhere Colorado. What did surprise him as he drew nearer though, was the conflicting scents. Not just one pact, but two. Interesting. He paused then to drop a worn pack from his jaws and shift back into human form and dress. Best be more careful than less if there were humans about.
He kept his distance while he could, knowing it wouldn’t be long before his own scent was picked up once he crossed the markers. But as the town below was the only sign of civilization around, the aching hunger in his stomach, coupled with the desire to sleep in a real bed, forced him onward.
The nearest lights belonged to a small modern cabin, one free of any werewolf or other scents. The lights were near blinding even with his normal vision as he walked across the side yard and up the steps. He hefted the pack on his shoulder and stood there a moment. Tristan knew to knock, but was there a standard amount of times? He settled for three, a bit heavy as he struggled to rein in his own strength.
Elrond was puttering about the house as he usually did in the evenings. It was already quite dark since the winter meant the sun had begun to set early. One would think that being legally blind that he was comfortable with darkness. He was when he had to be, but since it had been such a slow transition he was more in the habit of trying to utilize what remaining vision he could. Night blindness was one of the first markers of the disorder. There was a sort of tangible fear the dark held that made him more jumpy than usual. It was like a re-emergence of old childhood worries and a reminder that he could one day face total darkness. He often found himself staying up into the evening with all the lights on doing some sort of banal busy work or reading in brail if he could get his hands on it. Lately he had been slowly unpacking what remained of his older filing cabinets. The soft tones of a record playing ‘Zing! Went the Strings of my Heart’ on low volume were interrupted by a short few knocks.
He looked up from the box he had been sorting with a furrowed brow, the epitome of ‘now who could that be?’ Elrond came around to open the door and came face to face with a tall gentleman. One with dark hair and eyes. Did the alarm go off again….? No that couldn’t be it. Oh right, the ad. His face slowly changed to a more warm smile “Ah! you must be here about the room?” Personally he would have called ahead if he were going house hunting this late but maybe there was something wrong with his phone. He stepped aside “It’s getting awfully cold outside lately, isn’t it? Why don’t you come in then and we can talk about it, hm?” and gestured in the general direction of the sectional sofa. Any more reasonable person might be worried that a stranger ringing their door in the evening (especially one with quite expensive equipment) would be suspicious. After all, his bright windows in the middle of an isolated countryside were sort of screaming ‘rob me’. Elrond however really likes to see the best in others. So he invited this stranger inside without even a second thought. “Can I get you anything? Water? Hot cocoa ?” It was a bit late for coffee but he added “I might have some decaf coffee in the cabinets..?”
Post by Tristan Morrigan on Dec 7, 2023 17:10:21 GMT
Tristan met the man's blue-grey gaze that was near level with his own. He studied the man for a moment, always preferring to get an understanding of who he spoke to.
The cabin's resident was of similar height to his own but much slimmer. The confused look on his face wasn't surprising, though he got the feeling from how he studied him back that he was straining against something. His choice of clothes indicated both a level of comfort with where he was and a degree of self-esteem and desire for finery. Tristan himself wore heavy jeans, steel toe boots, and a simple shirt and sweater, not much bothered by the cold outside.
He flicked his gaze over the man's shoulder at softer sounds beyond, tiling his head slightly so he could hear better. Music, not voices.
'The room' held no context to him. Here for what room? But before he could explain himself, the man invited him in. Nonplussed by the cold or not, the wave of warm and the scent of paper and clean linens and coffee grounds and whatever soap the man used were very convincing reasons to stay. Tristan stepped inside and closed the door softly behind him. He looked down at his boots and the doormat, carefully wiping damp from them and then leaning down to set his backpack on the floor and untie his boots.
He righted himself, stepping out of the boots and following the man's gesture to the sofa. It was a nice place. It was charming, if a bit chaotic, to the point some of the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He reached up to grip the straps from his pack to remember to keep his hands to himself but then recalled he had set it down. He clasped his hands behind him.
"I can get myself a drink," he said, voice low and rough, but warm under the texture. While he scents of those drinks were appealing, just really wanted to basics. His lack of enunciation and tone brooked no room for discussion. Even as Tristan said it, he moved further inside and found the kitchen. Instead of bothering with searching for a cup, he turned on the faucet and stuck his face under it to drink.
Once he had had his fill, Tristan turned the water off and wiped his sleeve over his face. He had a lot more scruffy facial hair that udual. He would have to shave.
"You mentioned a room?" He still wasn't sure what that was about. Did the man want some sort of help with it? Or was he that interested in company that he offered it to traveller's often?
Elrond was left sort of standing awkwardly in the living room as the stranger walked past him into the kitchen. No hello or introduction, He couldn’t tell if the stranger was being evasive or just preferred to get straight to business. The ascertain that he could get the drink himself might have rubbed Elrond the wrong way if it weren’t that he hadn’t included his condition in the ad. So the man couldn’t know that he was blind. Maybe he didn't want to put him to the trouble of getting anything? He heard the man fiddle with the sink which wasn’t too concerning but a little confusing. It hadn’t really occurred to him that the man might be drinking the tap water let alone without a glass. He assumed that maybe the man was washing his hands? That was ….polite. If a little odd. It was the question about ‘the room’ that really threw him off. Then he realized that maybe the guy wanted to see the room before making any commitments.
He turned in the general direction of the kitchen “Right, yes it’s the spare room off the hall. It’s mostly empty now. There’s a bit of furniture already but I can move it if you already have your own.” Elrond turned towards the hall “You can have a look for yourself to see if it’s something you might like.” His hands waved around dismissively as he felt the urge to over explain take over. Only he didn’t know he was over explaining the wrong part of the equation. He almost started leading the man to the room before stopping himself. It was somewhat hypocritical to judge the other man when he hadn’t introduced himself either. “Oh uh, My name is Elrond by the way.” the man added with an embarrassed twinge to his voice. “There are some things you should know before we talk about the room…” He shifted uncomfortably, having envisioned this talk going very differently. “Namely, well…I suppose it’s best if I just say it…I can’t see…very well…” reflexively he found himself trying to find a way to communicate that he was looking for help but not asking for a caretaker. “Not that I can’t still get around or do things on my own…but I could just use a bit of help…here and there is all…”
Post by Tristan Morrigan on Dec 7, 2023 19:32:47 GMT
The implication of moving in his own furniture was only more confusing. Clearly, he was either expecting someone else (but didn’t know what they looked like) or Tristan himself had implied something he didn’t understand. He hadn’t said very much. Had it been something else he did?
Tristan knew he processed things at different speeds than most people. Some things, like conversations and emotions and other social aspects, took him a lot longer and sometimes he didn’t understand everything. Other things, he was remarkably average at. And a few things, like spatial skills and physical control and artistic expression, he was much better at. Unfortunately, this was one of those moments where he struggled. This man didn’t just talk but talked fast.
"Tristan," he said, adding a delayed, "Nice to meet you. Thank you for the water." He had never heard that name before, but he rather liked it. It reminded him of the sky. He waited patiently as the man continued, cocking his head slightly. He hardly noticed he did such things anymore, having lived with a hearing impairment for almost half of his life.
He was curious to learn the man couldn’t see very well. Tristan supposed, in his home environment, he was much more comfortable. “You are blind?” His curiosity attempted to override his attempts to listen to the rest of his words, but he managed to hold back. The request for ‘a bit of help’ confused him for a moment but he was able to connect some dots. Or at least dots that made sense to him. "Oh. You are looking for a roommate," he guessed. Tristan had always found that word to have a heavier connotation than most people as he was accustomed to the traditional meanings of the word.
Tristan. So he had a name and there was confirmation he had been drinking water earlier. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to dirty a cup? He supposed the tap water was safe enough here this being a very nature focused little town. It didn’t seem him being blind had scared the other man off. That was good. “Well..not entirely blind…it’s complicated.” It wasn’t really. It just felt complicated and a little overwhelming to explain. He was fortunate to not have to do so as often now that he didn’t have to constantly advocate for his own accessibility needs. He hated asking people to change things for him. The little oh and realization in Tristan’s tone of voice tipped him that maybe the man had different expectations about the room. He made a sheepish expression as if being sorry for living in his own home. He wondered if he had said something misleading in the ad and the man had been under the impression the room was detached or he was renting the whole house. “Yes..sorry if it wasn’t so clear….I’m not asking that we be best friends right away or anything of course….but I can go quite low on the rent. It would just be nice if there was someone else to tell me if the house is on fire. ” Elrond explained with a nervous laugh. That and it would be nice to go to the grocery store and not have to use an accessibility app or order in and just live with any wrong items anymore. He had stopped ordering bananas due how hard it was to know if you would get the quantity you asked for. “I understand if…maybe you’re not so interested?” He knew if he had been looking for a solo apartment and found out the landlord would also be living there he wouldn’t have been thrilled.
Post by Tristan Morrigan on Dec 7, 2023 22:20:37 GMT
Tristan was only more curious what the man could possibly mean by 'complicate' when it came to his vision. In his own experience, he knew what it meant to be partially deaf. And that some people who were partially deaf simply said they were deaf. Why they did that always confused him, but that didn't prevent him from understanding. If he was hearing impaired, Elrond was vision impaired. It was an interesting pair of facts that many might call coincidence, but he didn't believe in mere coincidence.
He'd never had someone tell him so bluntly he wanted to have sex with him. Or well, wanted to have sex with someone. That's what a roommate was for, after all. Tristan folded his arms over his chest as Elrond explained terms. He made soft noises of understanding, since nodding didn't seem very useful. The notion of rent gave him pause, but not more than the note about the hose being on fire. Tristan half turned to look around the living room, pulling in a deep breath to ensure the house wasn't currently on fire. "Well, it is not presently on fire," he said helpfully.
He turned his attention back to Elrond, looking him up and down. His sharp square chin. The muscles in his neck. His earnest expression and the distant but still bright cast to his eyes. In his decades of traveling, he'd only in the past few decades determined his preference for men. Not that he hadn't enjoyed or been close to the past women in his life. "This is not what I expected when I arrived," he pointed out, attempting to clarify. "But I would be interested." For how long he wasn't sure. It depended a lot on what the local werewolves had to say, but perhaps staying near the edge of the town was best for everyone. "Unfortunately, I currently lack income." He had money, that wasn't the problem, but that bank account was not designed to handle monthly payments.
Elrond let out a relieved laugh more because he was nervous than anything. He didn’t catch on that Tristan wasn’t actually making a joke about the house not being on fire. Though he could see he wasn’t going to necessarily get a poets rendition if he asked for Tristan's to look at something for him. Not that he wanted to be too hasty a judge. He was completely unaware of the other man’s perception of his offer or that he was being sized up for attractiveness. Elrond hadn’t ever been thought of as bold in the romance sphere. He had hardly been on a date in his 36 years let alone prepositioned someone for sex openly. Not that he was entirely a virgin or opposed to sex. He had found he could developed feeling for someone regardless of their gender identity or sexual orientation. At first looks had been important of course but after being diagnosed it just started to not matter so much to him. It was the little things over time for him that lead to real attraction. The sound of someone's laugh or the way they learned to stand in front of him or the feeling of a warm hand on his arm. Even so, when Tristan stood close enough he could tell that the man was almost certainly handsome. He did like big dark eyes, they were easier to make out, more defined.
Elrond was just happy that someone who was seemingly his age would be interested in renting the room. It wasn’t unusual for people their age to be settling down or have enough to have their own place so he hadn’t expected to find someone like Tristan on his doorstep. There was certainly cause for pause when Tristan said that he didn’t have a job. Though, he had used the word ‘currently’. Perhaps he had some extenuating circumstances for house hunting after dusk with no calling ahead. It seemed to him like the sort of thing only someone in dire straits would do. He worried his lip a little in thought and then his face softened into a warm if timid smile. “Well ... .that might not be so bad ... .money isn’t really the most important part for me…” Though it would have been nice, it wasn’t as though Elrond would lose the house if no one rented. He wasn’t foolish enough to buy a house he couldn’t afford by himself and then retire. “How about we have a little chat to get to know each other…and decide from there?” Elrond asked in a kind tone. After all he had assumed that he would be interviewing the man anyway and it might be easier to hear the facts and read between the lines. He knew how hard it could be to ask for help when you needed it or else he wouldn’t have put up an ad for a roommate instead of buying more accessibility services. “I could still make some cocoa…or perhaps you would prefer a bit of dinner?” It was evening and it was some distance to town. If Tristan hadn’t eaten it would be quite the difficulty to pick something up in town. Come to think of it, “Where have you been staying until now?” If he didn’t have a job maybe he was a local who had been living with family? Tristan looked a bit old to be running away from home though.
Post by Tristan Morrigan on Dec 8, 2023 5:04:57 GMT
Tristan cleared his throat. He hadn't meant to imply he could not pay at all, just that at some point it would become difficult unless he found a job. He still wasn't entirely sure he would be staying long, but he had at least considered picking up odd jobs. Rent would require something...steadier. Elrond seemed rather quick to move past the need for him to pay however, making it seem he was more desperate for a roommate than Tristan thought. "I am sure I will find something," he clarified, uncomfortable with the idea of the man changing the terms on him already.
Chats were not his specialty. But if it meant free room and board, he would give it a fair attempt. Besides, Elrond seemed genuine and it was much more comfortable inside than out at the moment. The concept of a chat was made less daunting with the prospect of food. "I can always eat," he said suggestively, but also as a fact. Werewolves were always hungry. He'd done his own hunting recently, but that was still a few days ago. A cooked meal in a cozy cabin was the other end of the spectrum and just as appealing.
"I just arrived in town." Perhaps that might explain a bit more. "I have been...traveling for a while. How long have you lived here?" Tristan pushed himself to ask a question in return. He cast his gaze around the room again, noting the large stary system image and the other astronomy themes. He had always enjoyed the stars, but beyond some werewolf culture and lore, knew little about them.
“I’m sure you will.” Elrond replied earnestly, he already sensed that Tristan was the capable sort. Or that might have been wishful thinking. His voice sounded quite capable, brisk and to the point. It wasn’t something he minded. Even if his nerves did cause him to want to babble over the silence. He nodded with a grin “well that’s settled then. I hope you like pasta?” He asked as he did his best to move back to the kitchen without bumping into Tristan. He didn’t want to make a bad first impression by shoulder checking his guest. Hearing that Tristan had only just rolled into town did put a few puzzle pieces together. It certainly did a great deal to explain why he was looking for a place. “Traveling huh, that’s great. I used to really like traveling. I’ve only lived here …oh a year or so myself. It’s quiet here and not so far from where I used to work.”
The kitchen was the first thing he had fully unpacked and everything was meticulously organized. It had to be or things went out of date or missing. Elrond hadn’t ever been an amazing chef but he could cook simple dishes without too much struggle. He filled a pot with water and measured salt to put into it before setting it to boil. Gone were the days of haphazardly measuring based on feel. When he tried to just shake the salt in the lack of depth perception tended to make a mess and he would end up using too much. Now he measured everything to a science with measuring cups that had braille on the handle.
He scooped some dry pasta shells into the pot “Any reason you stopped here in particular?” He felt he shouldn't pry too deeply into the man's past but he was curious.
Post by Tristan Morrigan on Dec 8, 2023 20:41:28 GMT
Werewolves preferred meat. Red meat. Tristan's preferred flavor profile was no different. He had been half-way around the world, served in the military and eaten both very strange things that he would not describe as food, as well as nothing at all days on end. His favorite foods were eggs, fish, and rice (and meat) but pasta, being a real food, would satisfy. "I do not dislike pasta," he said. The werewolf shifted ever so slightly out of Elrond's way, though less because of the man's impairment and more because he disliked unannounced physical contact. He did take a soft deep breath as the man passed by however, acquainting himself with his soap, cologne, and natural scent.
He made a low noise of understanding and interest in his chest. "Where did you used to work? In what field?" While he disliked excess talking, the nature of a conversation was to be between at least two people. Tristan was doing his best. The notion of knowing each other at least a little if he was going to be staying here wasn't a bad idea either.
Tristan followed him back to the kitchen, leaning comfortably against one of the counters and watching the man work. He was very practiced in his movements and very methodical. He made quick note of the order that was applied to the space, especially the braille on the scale and some of the other measuring tools. He also watched how Elrond moved, enjoying how the man got so engrossed in the simple work of cooking. He almost asked if there was anything he could do to help, but he did not want to interrupt.
"I am not sure," he admitted, his tone soft and open as opposed to guarded. Though he might stay longer knowing there were so many werewolves about. It had been too long since he had a pack. "I have been looking for somewhere to belong for a while." Though whether that was among either of these packs, alongside them, or elsewhere, he wasn't sure.
He retrieved a few items from the fridge for a red sauce. These too were meticulous, pre portioned. He preferred to prep most of his groceries when he first brought them home. He was lucky to have the time to do so. Though not disliking wasn’t the same as liking it he supposed that sort of response meant Tristan wasn’t a picky eater. That was good to know. Elrond was pretty impartial to meat. He did eat it, he would be cooking some ground beef for the sauce. However he found that the worry of if he had cooked the meat all the way through outweighed his liking for some dishes. “I used to work for a physics and astronomical research institute in Denver. I still do some work for them…science is a very collaborative field.” Actually he was so used to burning the midnight oil crunching numbers or pouring over new research that having less work to do made him feel lost.
He did pause to look in Tristan's general direction when the man said he was looking for a place to belong. He couldn’t make out the man’s expression but it was a surprisingly sentimental response. Though he wasn’t sure if Tristan actually meant it to be or if he had meant it in a sort of physical way. “I hope you find it then. Even if it's not here.” He turned back to the pan to stir the meat. He had set a timer which was probably a bit overkill but at least for this type of sauce a little overcooked meat wasn’t going to matter. Elrond wondered if he had been looking for that too long ago when he used to travel more. There were subtle differences in how blindness was perceived all over the world. Maybe he too had been weighing where he would be able to feel at home. In the end there wasn’t anywhere he found more comfortable so he had just picked somewhere practical. Elrond had always told himself that he preferred solitude but now that he was living like a hermit he wasn’t so sure. A thought occurred to him and he turned a bit back to ask “Do you drive?” He had just assumed that the man had driven here since he had turned up after dark in the middle of the countryside. It was dark enough outside that he couldn’t actually have seen even if he had parked out there. It was possible he had taken a taxi or something.
Post by Tristan Morrigan on Dec 8, 2023 23:04:42 GMT
The food smelled excellent, and he subconsciously found himself moving closer to Elrond at the stove, breathing in the smell of pasta noodles and tomato and meat sauce almost as if he hadn't eaten in days. Tristan couldn't help but salivate at the prospect of food, often driven by his stomach more than anything. He swallowed before he spoke. "An astronomer," he said, impressed. He almost confessed to an enjoyment of navigating by the stars, but he was mildly aware that certain things he said would not be easily normalized by humans. But more interesting was how a partially blind man came to study the stars.
"Have you always been blind?" He asked, realizing he had not before and merely assumed. "It must be hard not to be able to see the stars." It was more factual than sad, an attempt to perhaps recognize why the man was both out here on the edge of town but also lonely. There was something both very noble and very sad, that the man worked so hard for something he could not see. He didn't have any concept of bringing down the mood.
Tristan got the feeling he had said something the man didn't understand from the way he looked at him curiously. But his well wishes were welcome enough, so he didn't think much of it. By now he was within arm's reach of the man in his migration toward the pleasing aroma.
The question of driving earned another cock of his head as he considered first why he might be asking. Perhaps it was important to being his roommate? He couldn't recall if he had seen a vehicle parked outside, but he had not made a full reconnaissance of the cabin. The look seemed to suggest the topic was important, so he tried to provide more information. "I can. But I do not own a car. I walked here." Tristan did in fact have a driver's license (so many things these days required identification), but it had been a while since he had it updated and it was very likely his age did not quite match with how he looked.
“No…that’s part of why it’s ‘complicated’. But seeing stars went first. I have trouble seeing if the light isn't very bright. Or out of my peripheral...or if something is too far away...or if it's low contrast... “ There were a lot more conditions for what he couldn't see than what he could really. It was distressing when he was younger to have the sky become harder and harder to see. It was something that certainly motivated him in his studies when he was in college. It was also not such an unusual observation so he had gotten somewhat used to the sting of people pointing out the paradox of his devotion to astronomy. There was something fresh about having someone point it out in a direct way. A lot of people chose to sort of dance around asking him about his career path as though he might have accidentally chosen a sight related profession. “Some days are hard, yes..” He replied softly because it was the truth. Some were much harder than others. He was glad of the distraction of Tristan giving him yet another curve ball answer. His house guest was just full of surprises. He looked at Tristan and then the door and back as if the man was winding up to say ‘just kidding’. But the tone in which Tristan had said it and the following silence told him that Tristan was serious. Elrond paused in his cooking and came closer to squint at the man with his brow furrowed in concern. He sort of looked the man up and down absolutely perplexed. It was freezing outside and the town was no small walk away. Hell even the nearest house wasn’t what he would have called a ‘small’ walk in the snow. “You walked? For how long … ?” Whatever disappointment he might have had that Tristan didn’t have a car was buried under pure worry. He wasn’t necessarily the type to demand others bundle up but even he could tell Tristan wasn’t dressed for a winter trek.
The ding of the timer broke him from his fit of concern. Hesitantly he turned back to the food, plating it up into bowls with more flustered movements than before. He was careful not to burn himself but he did spill a bit of the sauce. “Would you bring these to the table? I’ll, um get us some water.”
Post by Tristan Morrigan on Dec 9, 2023 16:20:05 GMT
The out of order explanation of events gave him pause as he took a few extra heart beats to sort everything. Tristan gathered that Elrond had had normal vision once. He'd found a career path he loved and pursued it. And then, though he was still missing the cause, the man started to lose his vision. He didn't have to say it was hard for Tristan to hear the pain in his words and the pounding of his heart. Though the clarification was useful to better understand the man.
He made a mental note of the list of complications, seeing it more as ideal communication and living guidelines that any sort of limitation the man had. This was Elrond's home. His territory, his den, as it were. There was not a question that the man wasn't his own master. It was not lost on the werewolf that having a vision impaired human roommate would potentially make certain otherwise revealing actions a bit less stressful for himself. But this was no cause to become lax about exposing his true nature to someone who was ill prepared for such a revelation. Not in the least here because it risked outing the community at large.
Tristan didn't move a muscle as the man moved closer to inspect him. "Yes," he said simply at the question on if he walked. When people repeated things like that, the wolf generally assumed they hadn't heard or didn't understand something. The surprise or shock or confusion over the concept or implied why was lost on him and he applied that emotion to his words. "I traveled on foot," he explained in a different way, thinking that was the problem. "For three days." And six hours, minus the amount of time he had slept. But that was simply since he left the last city he had stopped at. It was no time at all, a drop of sand in the hourglass that was the time he had spent travelling. There were exceptions, many of them, but Tristan rather enjoyed walking most of the time. In either form. Weather was rarely a factor.
The ding of the timer made him twitch, the sound touching on a sensitive frequency that he doubted the man heard. Tristan watched him ladle out pasta and sauce into bowls, keenly aware of the slight mess. He leaned over and quickly wiped most of the mess up with his fingers and stuck them in his mouth, resisting the urge to simply lick the stove top. He did understand that licking someone else property without consent was frowned upon. Plus, he didn't want to risk burning his tongue. He took the bowls from Elrond, savoring the warm meat sauce as he moved back to the table. He set the bowls down, leaving Elrond the seat closest to the kitchen and seated himself to the Elrond's right, casting about for napkins and coasters. He pulled the man's chair out and over slightly so it wasn't in his way. "Chair on your right," he said when the man returned with glasses of water.