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?
Tristan had just cleaned up his massage room and was once again cleaning up everywhere else. It was not that he was a neat freak or a compulsive cleaner. But he simply liked to have everything in its proper place and unlike his co-workers, it actively bothered him when things were not aligned properly. Perhaps it was a feng shui thing. He wasn’t even sure himself. So maybe it was a bit of compulsive behavior.
He straightened out the front desk and filed some lingering papers and filled out some order forms for new supplies while the girl who was actually supposed to be watching the front desk and handing phone calls and appointments and walk-ins was on her phone.
The werewolf couldn’t possibly understand what having a small computer the size of his hand could do for him. But then again, he was from a time before home phones were commonplace. Sometimes, he wondered what had ever happened to phone booths.
He didn’t have a scheduled appointment at the moment and as usual, the lack of a direct task to complete left him eager to find something else to do or for someone to walk through the front door.
Post by Jasper Brekker on Oct 29, 2024 21:52:19 GMT
Jasper took a slow breath, letting it out as he leaned back against his seat, staring at the steering wheel in front of him. His fingers tapped rhythmically against it, attempting to keep some sort of beat as if it could drown out the relentless ticking of his nerves.
His prescription had run out two days ago, and he hadn’t been able to refill it. The gnawing anxiety was like a restless creature stirring in his chest, claws scraping at his ribs with every shaky breath. He knew it wasn’t going to get better by itself, and the idea of toughing it out without his meds was already wearing on him.
A massage. He’d passed the parlor on his way to town a few times, its calm, unassuming sign almost mocking him now. He hadn’t gone in before—he wasn’t usually one to let a stranger’s hands work out his tension—but desperate times called for new measures. Right now, anything that could help him breathe a little easier sounded worth trying.
In the past, he might have had a booty call or ‘friend’ to call and help him relax, but being new to Sweetwater, he had been surprisingly well behaved. And with limited options, the massage parlor seemed like his best bet to avoid becoming an anxiety riddled mess.
With a determined nod, he pushed himself out of the car and headed toward the small building. Inside, the air smelled faintly of lavender, soft music playing low. There were two people at the receptionist desk and he tried not to find that intimidating as he approached.
“Hi, uh…I was wondering if you had any availability today?” He shifted his weight, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just…looking for a way to relax, I guess.” He trailed off, not quite sure he wanted to expressly detail his personal issues with a lapse in his medication.
Post by Tristan Morrigan on Nov 3, 2024 19:02:00 GMT
As it so often happens when nothing is going on, everything becomes busy all at once. Keen hearing or not, being so severe of hearing in his right ear meant Tristan didn't notice the desk phone ringing over the comfortable mix of popular music set to string arrangements that floated through most of the front of the store. It often drowned out what little of the rest of the shopping mall noise could be heard, so while he didn't know must of the music, he was grateful for it.
His coworker at the desk finally looked up with a reactive glare only to realize who it was with her at the desk and that Tristan never answered the phone. For a lot of reasons. Ones she was grudgingly glad to make up for as she liked having such a simple job and it was important that clients and anyone on the phone weren't scared off by his awkwardness.
Which left him to look up at the motion of the door opening to watch a striking red head walk in. The werewolf didn't need his scent to tell him the man was anxious. The shifting weight, hand through his hair, trailing words. While usually their clients were stressed, most weren't so clearly uncomfortable. It made him a bit concerned there was something more wrong with the newcomer.
Dark eyes inventoried the man's fit figure. He didn't appear to be physically favoring any limb or straining his neck. But he did indeed look to need some means to relax. "I am available," Tristan said. "If you prefer a female masseuse, the next opening is..." he glanced at the schedule up on one of the monitors. "Six." Which was a few hours.
Regardless of the man's answer, he pulled a few short forms from the stack. The usual waiver, along with simple medical history as well as massage preferences and current pain. He got the feeling the man was hoping for something more immediate. He snapped the papers to a clipboard and pen and handed them over. The girl at the desk was still chatting to someone on the phone, voices indistinct but she glanced at him in amusement, as if she knew he was missing something. Right. "My name is Tristan. Yours?" He almost forgot about that part. He didn't bother with names so much as a wolf but people...people used names a lot. It made them...more comfortable, which was the point.
Post by Jasper Brekker on Nov 22, 2024 17:17:21 GMT
The duo behind the desk seemed pleasant enough, if a touch more civil than friendly, at least the man was gathering the forms on a clipboard for him and handling things. Not that the woman wasn’t, she was clearly tending to a client phone call. Jasper willed his hand not to shake as he accepted the clipboard from Tristan. “Jasper, and I don’t have a preference on a masseuse. If you’re available that would be great.” He said with a polite nod as he stepped to the side and began to fill out the clipboard.
He’d done enough forms like this both for himself, and in his line of work with patients. Still, he always felt a touch embarrassed when it came to listing his own medical history. No surgeries. Generalized anxiety disorder(GAD). Medication: Klonopin (clonazepam) 2MG once a day. Alcohol use: 1-2 beers a week Recreational drug use: N/A
God, he hated filling these things out.
But, he finished the paperwork, and returned rhetorical clipboard to the man, Tristan. “Here you go, do you need anything else from me?” He asked, trying not to fidget with his fingers, but failing miserably.
Post by Tristan Morrigan on Nov 24, 2024 2:00:31 GMT
Triston didn't reply immediately, more caught up in the man's scent than his words. Close enough to hand him the clipboard, Tristan could read a bit more about Jasper. He didn't just seem on edge. If anything he was past that edge, from how his hand trembled. Tristan was still getting used to applying his sense of smell to the finner chemical imbalances in people when it came to actual medical conditions. But he could tell there was something off with the man. Either new medications, lack of a medication, or something else that caused something to be off. He wondered if it was a muscle thing for a moment, but it feeled less like uncontrolled tremors and more nervous tick.
It was enough for the werewolf to run through what sort of incense and oils he had that might help from a holistic approach.
Tristan finished organizing the desk while Jasper finished the paperwork, zipping through it despite his nerves. He wondered if the man did this sort of thing often. “Follow me,” he said in vague answer and gestured for Jasper to follow him to a more private waiting area, a dimmer lit room with quiet acoustic guitar music and electric candles. A small gurgling water feature sat on the low coffee table. In here, while it wasn't entirely closed off, it was really just the two of them. Tristan seated himself in one of the wide cream loungers and looked over the papers. Waiver. Medical information confirmed what he’d thought. His preferences were a bit lacking, likely from inexperience.
He didn't ask if he was off his medication. It wasn't necessary and an insult to both of their intelligences. “You ever had a massage before?” He asked. “I take it you are looking for relaxation, rather than pain management.”
He looked up and watched the man again. “Aromatherapy would help you too. Lavender and bergamot oil. I can also have some chamomile tea brewed.” He didn't look like a ‘tea’ guy, but Tristan understood it might help with his anxiety. “Do you have a specific type of music that helps you center yourself?”
Post by Jasper Brekker on Nov 24, 2024 3:23:53 GMT
Jasper trailed after Tristan, clutching his arms loosely over his chest as he stepped into the dimly lit room. The soft acoustics and low, warm light immediately felt better than the sterile buzz of the front desk, but his nerves didn’t relent entirely. He perched on the edge of one of the loungers, his foot tapping against the floor as Tristan settled into a chair nearby, clipboard in hand.
The question wasn’t unexpected, but it still made Jasper pause. He let out a low, uneven chuckle. “Not really. First time for a massage,” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “And yeah, relaxation sounds good. Pain management…not so much.”
The mention of aromatherapy caught him a little off guard, but it made sense. Lavender. Bergamot. He’d read about those somewhere—natural remedies he never gave much thought to. “Lavender’s fine. I’ve never tried the other one, but…sure, why not? Tea, though…” He trailed off, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Not much of a tea guy, to be honest. Appreciate the thought, though.”
He leaned back slightly, the tension in his shoulders still present but slightly less rigid. “Music? Uh…” Jasper hesitated, frowning as he thought it over. “I usually just have…ambient stuff going in the background when I’m trying to work. Nothing specific. Acoustic is fine, though. This works,” He said, motioning vaguely toward the sound playing in the room.
He glanced toward Tristan, his eyes catching the man’s measured, thoughtful gaze. “Sorry, this is all new territory for me.”
Post by Tristan Morrigan on Nov 24, 2024 5:50:08 GMT
Tristan nodded at Jasper's initial answers, watching with an unwavering gaze, making sure not just to listen to his words but to read his demeanor. His chuckle seemed more nervous, an attempt to relax himself. He seemed physically comfortable at least, which was reassuring. “Perfectly normal. Anywhere you aren't comfortable being touched? Feet, for example.” It was rather common that people had sensitive places.
“It is a citrus. More floral, warm. Part of the massage oils,” he explained. He likely could have been more reassuring that Jasper wouldn't need to do anything. “If you don't like it, let me know.” He added. Tristan felt uncomfortable with the more “verbal” part of his job. But communication was important. And he did like making people feel comfortable. Just seeing the tension in Jasper's shoulders, the werewolf itched to get the man on a table and put his hands on him.
“I am not either. Chamomile works well for a lot of people with anxiety. If you evere need it. Tea or essential oil.” This was the part where he was supposed to sell things. But he much preferred just informing people. If Jasper wanted to try something, he could on his own.
Tristan stood up and gestured Jasper to follow him again. “Whatever music you like,” he said simply. “It is alright. Let me show you the massage rooms.” He was supposed to ask about how long he wanted and get a name and credit card already, but Jasper seemed particularly in need. He led the way down the narrow back hallway, passed a number of closed doors to his room. The massage room was cozy, just enough room for a table, a chair and some cabinets with supplies. The same music currently filtered through the speakers.
“Make yourself comfortable. Undress fully, under the blanket,” he said, indicating the table. “I will be back in…a few minutes. We can get started and help you relax,” he said, trying to remember to use a bit softer language, even if his tone didn't quite match. Thankfully, while he might not be directly reassuring, his simple, calm manner hopefully helped.
Post by Jasper Brekker on Nov 24, 2024 7:54:16 GMT
“Oh, uh… well, I tend to be a bit sensitive around my knees, so maybe just go easy there?” Why did he sound so awkward simply answering a question? Sports hadn’t been very kind on the man’s knees, but then again; he couldn’t blame just sports for that. “Feet are fine, thanks.” He assured Tristan with a nod, then listened as the man explained about the other oil.
He supposed that didn’t sound so bad, and it wasn’t as if he couldn’t let the man know if he changed his mind throughout the process. “Can do, thanks Tristan.” And then tried not to seem too confused about the mentioning of the tea or oil. He’d have to remember that and maybe get some to keep in the car. And then it was time to get moving.
Jasper followed Tristan down the hallway, trying to shake the creeping awkwardness that always seemed to settle in unfamiliar situations. The man’s calm, deliberate tone was a stark contrast to the nervous hum of thoughts in his own head. It wasn’t unpleasant—if anything, Tristan’s matter-of-fact approach was grounding. Jasper appreciated not being overwhelmed by overly chipper platitudes or invasive questions.
The massage room was cozy, the kind of space designed to put people at ease. The music continued softly in the background, and the scent of something faintly herbal hung in the air. Jasper stepped inside, nodding as Tristan explained the next steps. He hesitated for a moment at the mention of undressing, but he reminded himself it was standard procedure.
“Right, got it,” He replied, his voice quieter now as he glanced toward the table. “Thanks, uh…for walking me through all this. I’ll try not to overthink it.”
He watched Tristan leave, then turned to the table. Taking a deep breath, Jasper kicked off his shoes and began to undress, neatly folding his clothes and setting them on the chair. He slid under the blanket, tugging it up to his hips as he settled in, the crisp coolness of the sheets contrasting with the warmth of the room.
Forcing himself to relax his grip on the edges of the table, he rested his forehead on his arm, trying to focus on the music and the steady rhythm of his breathing. He was here to let go, not to second-guess every little thing. Still, his thoughts wouldn’t quite quiet as he waited for Tristan to return.
Would this actually help? He wasn’t sure yet—but at this point, he was willing to try.
Post by Tristan Morrigan on Nov 24, 2024 16:39:57 GMT
Questions asked and answered, Tristan felt he had a bit more understanding of Jasper. Hopefully the other man had a bit more understanding too, though he didn't seem comfortable. The werewolf didn't take it personally.
This was where he usually got the question “even underwear?” but while Jasper gave off all the tells of someone not sure they wanted to be fully nude with a stranger, to his credit, he didn't ask. He seemed to find the dark paneled room comfortable, likely the lights weren't doing him any favors.
“Of course,” he said with a simple nod before stepping out and closing the door. Tristan returned to the front desk to start entering some of the man's information, though he didn't go into as much detail about his medication. He added a note about his knees and for now, that was enough. If he found anything else noteworthy as he worked on him, he would add more later. Maybe. Tristan hated notes.
That done, he returned three minutes after leaving the man, finding him stretched out on the table, lower half under the blanket. His pale shoulders looked even more tense. Tristan dimmed the lights further, turned up the music a tick, and turned the heat on the table on to help him be a bit more comfortable. “Some people like to take a nap,” Tristan said. “Some people talk. Whatever you prefer,” he said reaching out to take Jasper's arm from under his head and lay it out at his side. “Face in the hole, I promise it is comfortable,” he said. His touch was warm and purposeful, sliding up the man's arm, across his shoulders, down both sides of his spine and up his neck, then down the other arm. Just getting his own feel for the man and where he held his tensions. Definitely his shoulders and upper back, but he could feel even now his urge to fidget.
He moved away again to the table, preparing and warming the oil before returning to his back. He glided his hands up Jasper's back first, the lavender and bergamot oil warm both in heat and scent. His touch was a bit more firm but not hard as he gauged how much pressure the man needed in his first few passes. And then he set to work on his lower back and moved up, using deft gingers, his thumbs, the heel of his hand, even his forearms and elbows in a few places to apply sweeping or pinpoint pressure. He worked on knots as he found them, but generally focused more on pressure points and soothing each muscle. He didn't spend too long on one area, hoping that by shifting where he was working often, it would help distract Jasper. Let Tristan’s hand do the fidgeting for him. He returned to areas as he needed. The man clearly worked out and took care of himself. He was quite the fine specimen.
As for small talk, Tristan wasn't the type to initiate. But if helped Jasper calm down, he would do his best to keep the conversation.
