CHRISTIAN CALLAWAY
Hunter
Posts: 94
Played by:
Julia
“There's nothing to fear but fear itself.”
Last seen Nov 10, 2024 19:24:38 GMT
|
Post by CHRISTIAN CALLAWAY on Aug 4, 2024 16:11:16 GMT
 ━ let death fear you ━
He’d been enjoying his summer off of work. It’d only just started as they headed into July, but the few weeks had been blissful already. His parents were here to ensure it didn’t remain that way.
No, Christian chided himself, he had to stay positive about this. If he didn’t, it’d begin their visit on the wrong foot, and he’d only be inviting problems. He would stay happy about this.
He and Alix remained set on finding that particular vampire, but they branched out in other directions, too. When they could, they hunted creatures they were sure were a danger to the town. The other times, though…
Christian didn’t know how to define what they were or what they meant to one another. He cared deeply for Alix. He’d protect her━should it ever come to that━and it certainly had during their conjoined “career.” The evening he’d stumbled home after being faced with that small family he’d terrorized wasn’t the only time they’d become… intimate. But it certainly hadn’t gone past that point━Christian wasn’t sure if she wanted him that way, and he wasn’t going to engage in anything with Alix until they’d started their relationship properly, but it never seemed like the right time. What they had was blissful. They worked together in the kitchen without qualms, easily sliding around each other, and it was the same in other aspects of their lives. They made a great team. He didn’t want to ruin that.
Perhaps his parents would for him.
They’d already insisted on meeting him at his house, and Christian knew they’d be upset if he delivered the news over the phone. He wanted to meet them for lunch, but they suddenly had other plans. “We’d like to see the gallery, Christian. While this town is… quaint… it may very well have something interesting.” His mother had said over the phone, and he’d held in his sigh. Fine. They’d arrive at the loft for dinner later.
He’d already given Alix somewhere near twenty advance apologies, but a few more came as he rushed around from cooking dinner to re-setting the table. She’d done it already━after he’d asked nicely━but he knew his mother would find something to complain about. He had to do it━and, even then, they still probably weren’t safe. But he’d rather get the brunt of her criticisms than Alix.
Christian plated the roast and carried it to the table, then he brought the plates of the sides━spinach, asparagus, and dill and garlic mini-potatoes cut into quarters━to create a straight line down the centre of the table. He put out Alix’s gallery book on the coffee table, as well, as something for his parents to browse through later━when they inevitably stayed too long. The cheesecake he’d purchased was in the fridge. He’d thought of everything.
“Thank you,” He puffed softly━when it seemed like they could finally be done━and met her in the spot between the kitchen and the dining area. “Thank you for hosting them and for dealing with this insanity… and for, hopefully, not hating me when this is over.” Christian gathered her into a side-hug━which could’ve been a lot worse had he not just changed into a dress shirt.
At the sound of the entry buzzer, Christian felt his nerves lurch into his throat. He drew in a long breath, released it, then moved to the door, sliding the heavy, large entryway open. Their faces, immediately, were cause for concern.
“Christian… why have you invited us to this place? It’s terribly unfitting.” His dad hummed in agreement, “There were some shifty characters outside.”
“I’m sure they weren’t shifty.” He sighed lightly, “It’s nice to see you both.” There was no ounce of sarcasm in his voice━they wouldn’t have tolerated the insolence. He bent to kiss his mom’s cheek, then shook his dad’s hand, both greetings very sterile. Nothing like it was whenever he visited Sofia’s family.
“Yes, it’s nice to see you after such a long time. It seems you have been changed by this small town.” Jane puffed like it was the worst thing in the world, then peered warily into the loft. “What is this place, Christian?”
“It’s where I live.” He said, then stepped away, motioning to Alix. “I live here with Alix.” He smiled at her, then took a few steps toward her, as if to guide his parents in. “Alix, this is my mother and father, Jane and Scott Callaway.” These kinds of introductions were necessary━at least in his parents’ eyes.
They stepped in together, and his dad approached Alix first, offering her a handshake that was too firm to give to a woman. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alix.”
Jane went to Alix next, offering a lighter shake, “Yes,” She lied, barely able to keep the sneer from her voice. “So… you live here? What made you choose a place… such as this?” Christian cringed from where he stood behind his mother, slowly moving to Alix’s side as if he could protect her. His mom attempted to sound as if she was actually interested, but he knew it was judgement more than anything else.
ALIX QUINN | no notes. |
|
ALIX QUINN
Werecoyote
Dread Doctors' Experiment
Posts: 378
Age:
29
Occupation:
Photographer/hunter
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Christian Callaway
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 6, 2024 18:54:42 GMT
|
Post by ALIX QUINN on Sept 15, 2024 17:30:48 GMT
’Of course, you can.’ There was no hesitation when Christian had asked if he could host dinner for his parents at the warehouse, only when the ’this is your home too’ threatened to follow. Home for Christian had been that warm, neat house he had shared with his wife. Moving in here with her had been an automatic as her agreement to tonight – there was no way he could stay in that house, or in a hotel, after what had happened with Sofia – but it had felt, at first, as though the arrangement would be temporary. Eventually Christian would regain his feet and he would settle back into the suburban life he’d been living before, albeit without Sofia at his side.
Alix cut a glance towards the sofa as she stacked the pans and kitchenware he’d used to prepare dinner into the dishwasher. It was stripped of its usual load of bedding for the evening, signs that it had served as his bed for more than a year – except for that scatter of nights over the last few months when it had been both of them sleeping there, or he had slipped under the covers of her bed with her.
The night he had come home, wracked mentally and physically by his run-in with the banshee and his family could have carried them in a different direction, but God, was she glad it hadn’t. They had been partners in the strictly business side of their lives long before the other side of things had started to change. That side of them could’ve shattered, the two of them scrambling to pick up those pieces alone. Instead it had continued alongside of everything else. All signs of that had been cleared away too, the hunt for the thing that had crushed the life Christian had been living before into this new jagged shape packed away into the trunks under her bed. The fresh, unconnected hunts, the right ones, put with them.
Like a dollhouse set up by a daydreaming little girl the life Christian was trying to present to his parents here was carefully staged. The dress and smile she wore a costume she would strip away once they were alone again later. She had long ago stopped putting on an act for Christian – he had seen her stripped bare in too many ways for that – but tonight, after his parents had given him no choice, she would put one on.
Chrisitan had staged the apartment even while he cooked dinner, murmuring more of the unnecessary apologies. A thin thread of frustration tugged in her stomach, but it wasn’t because he’d reset the table she’d already laid out. It was at the parents he knew would have some complaint about it. He was a good man, a generous, caring soul, that should have made the people who were meant to love him unconditionally proud.
She was proud of him as he set the plates of food out on the table. Alix brushed back the tendrils of hair that had curled around her face with the heat of the kitchen, slanting him a smile as he came back towards her with more gratitude, as unnecessary as the apologies. ”Any time,” she assured him, slotting in against his side as he drew her into the half-hug. Settling a hand at the small of his back, she smoothed it up towards his shoulders, the heat of his skin bleeding through the thin fabric as she aimed to settle his worries. ”Definitely not hating you, not for long anyway.” She’d have made a joke about finding a way for him to make it up to her, but then the buzzer rang. He drew in a deep breath and she felt the press of it against her palm, leaving her patting his back lightly as he drew away.
He had warned her about his parents, but still the frostiness she heard bite instantly in his mom’s opinion of her neighbourhood was surprising. Long accustomed to it, Christian cut the chill with a warmth it was obvious hadn’t come from either of them. Alix eased closer, knowing neither of them had focused beyond their disappointing son yet. She took no offence from it, their expectations for their son’s life hadn’t included the indignity of a missing daughter-in-law and their son living with another woman in a ghetto.
Alix took a step closer, offering Christian and his parents a polite smile. ”It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” she murmured, accepting his dad’s overly firm handshake. ”Christian has told me so much about you both.” None of it endearing her to them. The lie was written all over his mother’s face as she too shook her hand. ”I do,” she said lightly, glancing around her home without shame. If it wouldn’t have had his parents leaping on the gesture, she would have touched Christian’s arm lightly, assuring him she could handle it.
”It was actually my work,” Alix said warmly. Gesturing to a walled off space in a corner of the sprawling living space. When the building had still been a factory, it had probably been used for storage, now it functioned as he dark room. ”I needed somewhere that worked as a living space and an office of sorts. I’m self-employed.” In both lines of work, although she’d only been able to leave signs of one around the place.
”Please make yourself at home.” She doubted either one would. Alix gestured them towards the dining area and then led the way. ”Christian’s prepared a beautiful roast for dinner, we should eat while it’s still hot. Could I get you both a glass of wine?” Glancing at Christian as she picked up the bottle that had been left to breathe, she offered him a probably much needed glass too.
|
|
CHRISTIAN CALLAWAY
Hunter
Posts: 94
Played by:
Julia
“There's nothing to fear but fear itself.”
Last seen Nov 10, 2024 19:24:38 GMT
|
Post by CHRISTIAN CALLAWAY on Oct 28, 2024 18:59:33 GMT
━ let death fear you ━
“Alix is a photographer, Mother.” Christian said, an air of primness to his voice that he didn’t always have. It was certainly clear that he had ‘good breeding’ in his general way he spoke, but he was definitely putting it on a little for his parents. Jane barely contained her sneer this time.
Thankfully distracted by an invitation to dinner, Christian led his parents to the dining table, pulling out his mother’s chair for her. “You made dinner?” She asked, brows furrowed as she sat. Of course, she’d never wanted her son to be completely void of all skills, but this seemed like one of the things that were below him. Especially when he was ‘living with a woman.’ Christian saw it in her eyes━another reason why he should’ve never chosen a career or a wife outside of their options. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be good at cooking. After a second, she asked, “What kind of wine is it?”
“Dinner won’t be nearly as good as anything Clark put together.” He smiled warmly as he moved to hover near the table, reminiscing about the chef he’d grown up with. The closest thing to a fond smile he’d perhaps ever seen was clear on Jane and Scott’s faces. “The wine is a Caymus Cabernet Sauvignon. You’ll enjoy it.” At two hundred dollars a bottle, they better have, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud. That was chump change to his parents.
“Yes, I’d like a glass, please.” Jane finally said to Alix, and Scott said something of the same. Christian nodded and smiled at her, a silent confirmation that he needed one of his own.
Once everyone had their glass filled, Christian pulled out Alix’s seat for her, tucked it in, then headed to his own. “Well, I must say, Christian, it smells lovely, at least.” Jane said, and Christian nodded his thanks. He would’ve promised her it would taste good, too, but she wouldn’t appreciate that.
Once they finally dug into it━his parents thankfully getting over the fact that they had to serve themselves━they took a few bites of food. Scott hummed with pleasure, giving his son a firm nod of approval as he ate a piece of roast. “It is very good.” Jane said like she’d expected it not to be. Finally, her gaze turned onto Alix again, and she finally asked the question that must’ve been burning a hole through her. “Alix, are you a freelance photographer or are you on contract with a magazine of some sort? Do you have many people who are… interested in purchasing your work?”
Christian gave Alix an apologetic look from across the table. He had a great job working in a school and that wasn’t good enough for them, so certainly an artist wouldn’t meet their standards. Especially not when their only other son decided he preferred living on the streets over a space in their home.
ALIX QUINN |  |
|
ALIX QUINN
Werecoyote
Dread Doctors' Experiment
Posts: 378
Age:
29
Occupation:
Photographer/hunter
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Christian Callaway
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 6, 2024 18:54:42 GMT
|
Post by ALIX QUINN on Nov 5, 2024 21:03:39 GMT
As a teenager she’d battled an Alpha werewolf all on her own (alright, she’d nearly lost an arm to it, but still), how bad could Christian’s parents be in comparison? Even asking herself the question as his mom prepared to sneer at her choice of career, was probably opening the universe up to proving that they’d probably have been better off asking one of the town’s Alphas to dinner instead. At least most of the damage they could do would heal fast and clean. Jane, on the other hand, was determined to just shred her self-confidence and Christian’s heart instead.
Her chin came up as Jane’s brows hitched, shoulders squaring as if she’d have to go toe to toe with the woman right there in her apartment. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to slap on a thick coating of ’nothing you think matters’. She’d had to do it with her own family when she’d told them she was leaving, her dad had sneered the same way when he’d asked what she was going to do with her life. Anything to avoid being killed by her own family, photography had become a way of doing that.
Before she could explain to Christian’s mom, he was stepping in to explain for her. She could’ve been Ansel Adams and it still wouldn’t have pleased the woman. Alix’s lips hitched higher at the corners, remaining locked in that smile as she invited them to the table. By the end of the night the smile would be like a mask, little cracks working their way through it, the whole thing ready to shatter the moment the heavy door closed behind the tow of them.
The urge to defend Christian burned in her throat as she wound her way into the kitchen and picked up the bottle of wine. Maybe there’d been some sort of a trust fund, enough money in the bank for him and Sofia to sit in one of those grand mansions that were scattered around the outskirts of the town with some celebrity chef serving them foie gras and Cornish hen to them every night. Instead he’d been living a small town life with the woman he loved until the supernatural had crept into their world and destroyed it. Now he was spending days in her kitchen instead, brow furrowing over the roast his parents would probably look down on.
Alix dipped her head at his parents’ confirmation. Sympathy filtered into her eyes for a moment as Christian nodded to her. She imagined he’d need more than the single glass to get through the night. A little extra was poured into his, hopefully not enough for his parents to spot and start suspecting that their son was also tumbling down the rabbit hole towards becoming an alcoholic. "There you go," she said lightly, setting the glasses down in front of his parents, before depositing her and Christian’s beside their plates.
Of course he would pull her chair out the same way he had his mother’s tonight. It wasn’t just the two of them sat together, enjoying a companionable dinner in their quiet little pocket away from the chaos of the rest of the town. ”It does smell incredible,” she murmured, as though she hadn’t watched it being put together. Each element building on top of the last, scents mingling, tiny morsels of it tested until it seemed like it would be enough to satisfy his parents. Lord knew she probably wouldn’t be able to do that.
Small portions were loaded onto her plate, her appetite shrunk down by nerves. She’d sworn she wouldn’t hate him after this, but who knew if his parents would hate her. Pressure could be heaped on, ladled into Christian’s lap like sauce until he agreed to take steps back towards the life they’d have planned out for him. Alix murmured words of praise about the meal, slipping into silence when his parents spoke, until his mom’s gaze settled on her. It had to come eventually. Had she been sitting beside Christian instead of on the opposite side of the table, she’d have settled a hand on his leg beneath it, a touch to reassure him that he had nothing to apologise for – he couldn’t control his mother’s mouth.
”Freelance mostly,” she explained. ”Although I have taken commissions from a few magazines. I’m an art photographer rather than a photojournalist.” Of course money had to come into it somewhere. Were people paying for her art or was this some vanity project where the most she could hope for was a few thousand likes on Instagram. ”It’s been selling steadily, especially in the last four or five years.” Taking a sip of her wine, Alix glanced back and forth between his parents. ”Do you collect art? Christian mentioned that you were visiting the gallery in town earlier.” Where they’d probably looked right past the work she had displayed there. Heavy oils were more likely to their taste. Artists who had proved their worth and would only gather value over time. The sort of art people bought with one day turning a profit in mind rather than buying it for the way it resonated with them.
|
|
