YOU WERE SEEING SOFT PALE MOONS → failed house hunt

[Grimm]

[align=center][div style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 10px; width: 340px; text-align: justify; line-height:120%"]Why had he selected this place, a fragment cut off that bore a backdrop opposite in nearly every fashion from that he once knew, what tether was present to keep him. Once known, identified the singular cause, her name once ash sweet as peaches upon his tongue. Yet the lines had blurred, grown entangled, many now his reasoning.

Bright eyes and a hope that reverberated in a tone still laced with the whimsy of youth, lost as he was, found though still a searcher. A name undeserved, sunshine supposedly given a tie to the fleeting lives they all lived, hesitant but grand for how small she was made. Ebony shaped and tempered, crude but workable, a charm as though serpentine though there was no venom in that bite. Too many miniscule paws, their patter akin to rain, bore the name he was gifted, the last remnants of their family expanding.

Only so much may it all assist, heavy still dark thoughts. He did not belong here, grieved still for metal and stone, for the frost the more temperate climate had not allowed to settle. Reduced to nothing more than a brief nuisance plaguing his nights the desire to find his place, far removed from the past, yet it seemed to bear no wish to release him in his bid to be free. Impossible to continue in this fashion, wallowing in a fashion detrimental to his health, understood this as an irrefutable truth.

To comprehend something and to truly put it within action are two very different things, however. All the same he knew the course of action he must take, no matter his own disfavour in such. Pretty the excuses he tied about it, wrapped it in ribbons of falsified truths as though it may make null and void the prospect. Quiet his sigh, a gentle exhale overburdened with that he could not voice, the whole mess put aside for later review.

A visit. How his departure was framed, the early crowd already begun to file into the tavern as he waded through them, if anything else occurred than so be it. Familiar now some of the faces passed, some questioned, polite though evident their intrigue over his line of inquiry. He was one of them, in a way adjacent to the ruling family that seemed to have no end, his request for directions to the abode occupied by Officer and Captain answered with little issue. Well, it may have had Harland not made a recluse of himself during the past week. Few, but of note, those who peered at him with blatant desire to voice their own questions, some not withholding. All brushed aside with a polite smile, yet they continued, piled up until his secondary objective seemed well beyond any chance of being well received.

Away stone fell, established paths replaced by loose grains pockmarked by the passage of others, swallowed his own steps. Too short the stretch of sand, his gaze forced upward, loose the houses settled about this particular portion of the beach as though each a smoothed stone shimmering with bright hues. Passed few as his study began, assessed each that he gauged to be unoccupied, fault always found. Each wrong, a substitute he proved unwilling to accept as of yet, deeper etched the frown that seemed incapable of leaving his visage.

It came with a sudden sharp surprise when someone called out, evident he was the intended target, wide the eyes that turned, almost amused the offered aid. Too long had Harland lingered, now known this, hast in the rejection and subsequent departure. He could hear the comment thrown after him, the door closing behind the other, shame burning his cheeks. A fool's errand this, forgone even trying to make the excuse of visiting Diya to hide his search for a more permanent residence, allowed himself only to walk.

Secluded the stretch of sand he finally drew to an uneasy halt upon, allowed himself to fall, warm the grains against his fur. Maybe it was for the best that his search had ended in failure, his assumption proven correct. Between sand streaked paws nose was buried, muffled his quiet groan.

[VAYNE CIPHER-VANTAS.]

[glow=white,1,400]LIKE WE FORGET WHO WE CAN TRUST ! — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

One of the reasons Vayne was worried about coming to The Typhoon on her own was the fact that she would have to find her own place to live in. Aphra's home had far too many bad memories and negative energy attached to it, and if it hadn't been for Diya visiting that night, Vayne probably would've just ended up staying on the outside of the home. Fortunately, Diya offered her a place to stay for that night and eventually, she adopted Vayne and so, the little orange-spotted she-cat stayed with the Officer and her wife.

"Hey Harland." Vayne greeted as she approached him, a soft smile on her features. She had no idea that he had the intentions of visiting Diya and Roxanne's home, but she did notice how down-in-the dumps he seemed. "Is everything okay?"[glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

[michael t.]

ALL I FOUND THE SPACE BETWEEN THE SPACES
STANDING IN THE NOTHING, AND TIME RECLAIMS YOU

When Michael had initially joined The Typhoon, he had been... unsure about where he stood. He had constantly been on edge and looking over his shoulder, thinking that his past would eventually catch up to him. In the meantime, though, he had met someone who truly cared about him – Roxie. And for a brief while, he had resided within her home, back when only herself and Roan were the two other occupants. It had been a rather cozy living situation, with the bobcat helping out wherever he could to make both Roan and Roxie comfortable. He was hardly a housekeeper, but he would've felt awful just lazing about there, even with his usual selfish attitude. Rox had always seemed to appreciate it, although his attempts to clean usually just turned into jumbled game nights when he stumbled upon some forgotten toy or board game tucked away in a corner. Roan had always wanted to play them, and Roxie would do anything for Roan, and Michael would in turn do anything for her, so... it was a natural cycle.

Eventually, though, the dealer had known that he needed his own place. He didn't like intruding on Roxie and Roan's home, even if they did consider him to be family. Additionally, that was right around the time when Trevor had shown up, and Michael had been sure Rox would rather die than let him live with them. So, the bobcat had gone on a house hunt, scouring the beach for a hut that he would find suitable. Unlike Harland, though, the thief hadn't had many old attachments that made him difficult to become used to something else. After all, Michael had spent his entire life moving. Ever since that fateful day when he had fled from his initial "family home," he had constantly been on the move. Never settling in one place, instead moving from one camp to the next, first on his own and then with Trevor. None of those camps had ever really felt like home. Rather, they had just been temporary residences. For the sake of convenience.

When he had found the hut he wanted to be his personal haven, it hadn't really been because of the structure itself. Instead, it had been because of the occupants that were already there. Namely, the rats. Despite initially being surprised and "attacked" by the family of rodents that lingered inside, Michael had quickly warmed up to them. Not wanting to move them from one hut to another, the bobcat had simply decided that it would be easier to fix the place up for himself, rather than disturb them. When Trevor had heard about this, the coyote had called him an "enormous softie," but for once, Michael hadn't really minded. After all, he loved taking care of his tiny companions, and it wasn't as if he had needed anything particularly fancy for living in. The only occupants had been himself and Trevor, and neither of them were exactly used to five star hotels.

It was a shame that Harland couldn't have that same sense of setachment, though. It was obvious that the other's house hunt wasn't going very well, and Michael caught onto it the moment he emerged from his own hut. It wasn't exactly hard to figure out what was going on, considering the way that Har was ducking his head into the various structures, and peeking around. Additionally, the dealer was fairly sure he knew why the other was struggling so much. While he obviously didn't know every detail of Harland's past, he knew that the other had a life before all this. Presumably a fairly full one. That much was obvious just from how he and Diya had reacted when Michael had mentioned Elysium. Namely, with vague disgust and disagreement. Although, in the male's defense, he hadn't even been around for the existence of the Ascendants.

Nevertheless, Michael didn't want to just leave the other sitting out in the proverbial cold. So, he approached soon after Vayne, biting down lightly on the inside of his own cheek before pressing forth. When he grew close, he moved to very lightly press against the other's side, a soft gesture of greeting before he spoke, "Hey there, Har... you in the market for a house 'round here?" He smiled kindly at the other feline, his tail twitching before he continued, "The places around here are pretty nice, but I've gotta warn you... some of them have got rats." He was quick to snicker after that particular little joking comment. He was trying his best to keep the mood light, not wanting Harland to end up too down in the dumps about the whole house-hunting endeavor.

— Reggan

[Grimm]

[align=center][div style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 8pt; max-width: 65%; text-align: justify; line-height:120%"]Privacy wished for and proven unobtainable, though the flaw in the hasty departure was rather easily identified when the conclusion had been conducted in a public area.

A presence he knew, expected for often her time coincidental perfection. Where once fleeting the warmth that may receive her there was only a cool silence, the seconds trickling past without acknowledgement. Possibly his thought process if staged a willing ignorance she would find pointless staying, time wasted best utilised elsewhere. It was not Vayne that was permitted the chance to break first, however, his thoughts barbs digging deep grooves as they took up a perpetual spin, a cycle begun with wishing to continue and ended with abandonment of forced incivility.

Away paws fell, though still was chin encased in the grains piled about it, his gaze unsure, rising to find her only to flick away. Her posed query rather simple, innocent and thus unknown the turmoil it sparked, wished to be maintained for undeserving was she of the problems he cultivated and maintained by his own decree. Lies built on his tongue, dismissal that may clear the air and impart enough that the issue may be put to rest. None adequate, wrong even the idea of attempting to deceive Vayne. Breaks still littered the story he had received of her situation, such allowed for it was her choice alone if he was allowed the whole thing and so held only the basic details, the treatment of her mother one shared though often the context was her behaviour towards others.

"Everything is fine, just been a long day." Truth enough in given response alleviated the feeling he was doing wrong by Vayne, no lie but more a mere baseline that omitted the grander details. Was this enough, only time may prove such and so alone was it left. Bearing little else to break the silence once more spun out between them slow was his rise, ignorant of the grains the clung still, mouth opening though words would not come.

What words clung to his tongue may only be guessed at, lost as another made evident their trajectory drew them closer, still about his gaze moved. Of course nothing was to be seen, no other occupied this particular segment of land and no point of interest was in close proximity, singular the destination settled upon. Tense did he grow, still though a tremor threatened, wished to steal through muscle that cared little for this unusual manner he had himself in.

Unobserved had been the other, unknown that his own home even occupied a space near to where he had been looking, oblivious to the watch of others until the call had rung out and caused him to come here. Had he been might he have changed tactics, gone about continuing his ruse of visiting. Possibly, though the invitation of questions was not welcome and he grew assured they would be put forth if he had dared. There was reason for it, always one with a heart too grand was Diya, room within it for all. Undeserved his place, a stranger made as the years drew on, better another act as recipient to her care.

His teeth came together with tongue between, minute the release of tension, reinstated once more as distance closed. So simple a touch, gesture familiar and fleeting, nothing meant beyond an addition to vocal greeting. All the same his mind stalled, gaze settling on a distant point as Michael continued to speak, almost slipping by unnoticed. Rapid blinks signalled his return, ears flattening as his attention turned, lasting for only a moment as he parsed what was said. So another had noticed.

Caught with no chance to dismiss the situation, one he would have preferred not even need to be addressed even by himself, the final addition caught him off guard. Rats. Harland knew well that Michael had such creatures as companions, the exact number escaped him, however, the offspring all he had seen though numerous those even if they had been from only one mother. "I know just the man to seek out if I find any," his words broke apart as he tried to keep the nervous edge from infiltrating it, a quiet bout of his own laughter offered. "But I wasn't looking for a house, just… I'm not sure even I know what I'm doing."