Beacon Hills, CA, Wednesday Evening into Night
This was probably a bad idea, but Jackson was getting used to those. He wasn't even sure he'd at any point explicitly made the decision to take the portal back to Beacon Hills, and go to Lydia's party. He'd been agonizing over it all day but in the end --
He'd kind of just done it.
And here he was. The party was in full swing when he got there. Lydia stuck a glass of punch in his hand and told him she was gladly he'd been able to make it. And he barely felt like he was there. The party milled about around him but all he could really do was stand and drink, and he felt like it went on forever, everything blurring together.
And then he heard it, like all the other noise generated by the crowd was falling away, and he heard someone say, "His name is Jackson." It was a woman, but not a voice he recognized. "We're looking for Jackson Whittemore."
"Has anyone seen Jackson?" added a man. Also unfamiliar. Jackson turned towards where the voices were coming from. "We're his parents." Jackson saw a couple, not too far away. They had their backs towards him, but Lydia was talking to them.
"Mr. Whittemore?" she asked.
"No," he said, "we're his real parents."
Jackson felt something squeeze tightly inside his chest. Something was filling him with dread. This wasn't right. This was all wrong. This couldn't be happening. No. "No," he he said out loud. "No."
"Could someone tell him we're here?"
"Tell him we're his real parents."
Then suddenly everyone was quiet, and all looking at him. And the couple, they turned to face him. Except that was the wrong way to put it, a very wrong way, because their faces were obscured. Featureless. Like they weren't people at all. And as Jackson shut his eyes tightly and tried to will it all away, he felt like he was losing his face as well. He wasn't a person. Just a shapeless thing. And then the party came back to him, and as he opened his eyes, he couldn't see the couple anymore, and everything was back to normal, without a single trace that anyone else had seen what he'd seen at all. He looked around. Nothing.
The party continued. It just got worse, and crazy, and he was numb to it. He had to pull that Matt kid up from the pool. Had to. That wasn't much of a choice on his part, either. He was just there, and doing it.
And then after that, as usual, he was going to have no recollection of the rest of the night. Not leaving the party, not the slaughter at the sheriff's department. Not even the wee hours of the morning, by the river, when the kanima watched itself become masterless. Just for a moment. Just the time it took for a knowledgeable old man to drown a young man in a shallow body of water.
But while Jackson wouldn't remember, others would. Others like the man who stood by in the shadows and watched the whole thing play out. It just wasn't a significant event in Beacon Hills without a Hale creeping nearby, and Peter was just the man for the job.
And even he wasn't thrilled to see Gerard Argent bond with the kanima. This was bad news for everyone.
Even worse than the recently dead, murderous, former alpha? Wow, things really were bad.
On the edge of the small bridge, a magpie sat, observing the dramatic scene below. And it was hardly lost on it that there was another watcher. But it was just a simple magpie and could hardly pass judgement, right?
It ruffled its feathers, casting one last glance down at the touching store of a crazy old man and his pet murder lizard before taking flight.
[ooc: NFB, NFI, OOC-okay! Taken from TW episodes S02E09 'Party Guessed' and S02E10 'Fury'. Special magpie guest appearance at the end written by the lovely abitlowkey.]
He'd kind of just done it.
And here he was. The party was in full swing when he got there. Lydia stuck a glass of punch in his hand and told him she was gladly he'd been able to make it. And he barely felt like he was there. The party milled about around him but all he could really do was stand and drink, and he felt like it went on forever, everything blurring together.
And then he heard it, like all the other noise generated by the crowd was falling away, and he heard someone say, "His name is Jackson." It was a woman, but not a voice he recognized. "We're looking for Jackson Whittemore."
"Has anyone seen Jackson?" added a man. Also unfamiliar. Jackson turned towards where the voices were coming from. "We're his parents." Jackson saw a couple, not too far away. They had their backs towards him, but Lydia was talking to them.
"Mr. Whittemore?" she asked.
"No," he said, "we're his real parents."
Jackson felt something squeeze tightly inside his chest. Something was filling him with dread. This wasn't right. This was all wrong. This couldn't be happening. No. "No," he he said out loud. "No."
"Could someone tell him we're here?"
"Tell him we're his real parents."
Then suddenly everyone was quiet, and all looking at him. And the couple, they turned to face him. Except that was the wrong way to put it, a very wrong way, because their faces were obscured. Featureless. Like they weren't people at all. And as Jackson shut his eyes tightly and tried to will it all away, he felt like he was losing his face as well. He wasn't a person. Just a shapeless thing. And then the party came back to him, and as he opened his eyes, he couldn't see the couple anymore, and everything was back to normal, without a single trace that anyone else had seen what he'd seen at all. He looked around. Nothing.
The party continued. It just got worse, and crazy, and he was numb to it. He had to pull that Matt kid up from the pool. Had to. That wasn't much of a choice on his part, either. He was just there, and doing it.
And then after that, as usual, he was going to have no recollection of the rest of the night. Not leaving the party, not the slaughter at the sheriff's department. Not even the wee hours of the morning, by the river, when the kanima watched itself become masterless. Just for a moment. Just the time it took for a knowledgeable old man to drown a young man in a shallow body of water.
But while Jackson wouldn't remember, others would. Others like the man who stood by in the shadows and watched the whole thing play out. It just wasn't a significant event in Beacon Hills without a Hale creeping nearby, and Peter was just the man for the job.
And even he wasn't thrilled to see Gerard Argent bond with the kanima. This was bad news for everyone.
Even worse than the recently dead, murderous, former alpha? Wow, things really were bad.
On the edge of the small bridge, a magpie sat, observing the dramatic scene below. And it was hardly lost on it that there was another watcher. But it was just a simple magpie and could hardly pass judgement, right?
It ruffled its feathers, casting one last glance down at the touching store of a crazy old man and his pet murder lizard before taking flight.
[ooc: NFB, NFI, OOC-okay! Taken from TW episodes S02E09 'Party Guessed' and S02E10 'Fury'. Special magpie guest appearance at the end written by the lovely abitlowkey.]