Shadowhunters [ Advanced RP ] discussion

[ For Savannah ]


Gregory Aldertree watched silently as the muddy water of the Thames River passed under the Blackfriars Bridge, the small waves lapping at the base of the columns softly. It was midday in downtown London; the city was buzzing with life all around him, with thousands of voices chattering, car horns blaring, and the occasional obnoxious car radio. The noise could be overwhelming to those who let it be, but Gregory always found solace in the mundane sounds of the city; now more than ever.

He was leaning against one of the railings on the bridge, his elbows propped up and his feet crossed behind him. The wind whispered around him, playing with his sandy blonde hair, tossing it to and fro for its own amusement. Every once in a while, he'd catch a glimpse of a mermaid's scales catching the light of the sun, but they would never surface in his presence. Not anymore.

His patrol route would take him across the Blackfriars Bridge, and he had always stopped to talk with the mermaids of the Thames River, who had always been drawn to his "angelic looks." Of course, the act had always been locked down upon by his superiors, but Gregory was young; his child-like fascination with the river faeries was always more powerful than his fear of the Clave's reprimands. He had even taken Ryan and Ametrine with him a few times, hoping to encourage the same awe he held for the beauty of the underworld.

But he was no longer young, or even a Shadowhunter. The mermaids stayed with the darkness of their waters. Times had changed, as the weather grew colder and the sky darker, yet Gregory always found himself passing the Blackfriars Bridge. It had become a habit, one that still tied him to his former life.

The bells of the Big Ben struck methodically, and Gregory cast his eyes upward. He knew Ametrine would arrive soon, yet he couldn't help but worry about her. She was risking her own job if the Institute found out that she would sneak out to meet with him. Every time he would tell her to stop coming, to stop worrying about him and go live the rest of her life, and every time she'd roll her eyes and promise him she'd be back. Gregory smirked, snorting in amusement as he recalled how stubborn the girl had always been, especially when it had anything to do with himself.

God, he missed her. She had burrowed her way into his heart at a young age, and she was more family to him than his own family had ever been. She and Ryan were the only reason that Gregory had to be angry with the Clave's decision; his dismissal meant the Clave has taken his "kids" from him.

Not that Ryan or Ametrine cared for that little detail; they always found a way to see Gregory.

He sighed, casting his eyes upon the water once again. There was no use longing for the past.

And life kept going; it always kept going. No matter the lives taken or forever altered, no matter the words said or actions taken, no matter what they did, Time kept ticking, and life moves on. This very principle was what Ametrine had built her world on, keeping her on her feet and avoiding getting crushed under life and time as so many around her do. What’s done is done; what matters is what’s to come—what’s to be done. What happened to Gregory, the girl’s role-model, mentor, and family, without a doubt, happened. It was said. It was done, and she wouldn’t let that get in the way of what’s yet to come. He was still Gregory Aldertree, still the same man who saved her life in every single way, and he always would be.

Without him, she wouldn’t be who and where she is, and when the man repeated time and time again that she needed to quit risking her job by coming out to meet with him, she wouldn’t even waste a second hearing him out. It was silly of him to even try and deter her from coming to see him, and Greg knew that damn well, her being far too stubborn to listen. Still, he’d try, as he always did, to stir her life for the better. He was always looking out for her and Ryan, but he forgets so easily he’s just as much of a kid as they are in ways, and he needs them to look out for him as much if not more than they need him.

Black hood raised over her head, thin sleeves loose on her arms to the base of her fingerless-gloved hands, the girl walked along the side of the bridge, weaving around the occasional pedestrian that she came by. Her eyes had already caught sight of her target on the other side of the bridge, his attention cast to the waters below, mind surely wondering aimlessly as it often did. One moment he’d be caught in by a certain thought in his web-like mind before sprinting across the thin, sticky silk to another within a heartbeat. It was hard for most to keep up with Greg’s train of thought, if there even was one, and despite being close to the man, Ame still had many moments were her brow would scrunch and mouth twist as she tried to make the same leap and connections he had to get to the new topic rolling from his tongue. It made for a never dull conversation, at least, even if she was lost half the time.

Right after a car cruised by, Ame took to the road, walking to the other side. As silent on her feet as ever, effort not even needed nowadays to do as such, she closed the little distance left between the two. Up next to him, her body facing the same direction as his as she mimicked his leaned over position. The sparkle of sunlight on scales had her attention caught for a moment, realization flashing into her mind as to one possible thought that could be roaming in Gregory’s mind. The mermaids, a fascination to that childlike wonder Greg possessed, had always been creatures Greg would stop to take a moment to stare at in awe. He’d take her, on occasion, to this very spot to look down to the water fairies and speak with them. But unlike times before, they did not poke their heads up to say hi to Greg. A twinge of disapproval shot through Ame. Fickle little fish.

“Lost in thought, old timer?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the water.

Gregory didn't move an inch as Ametrine suddenly appeared next to him, copying his laid-back posture. He didn't acknowledge her; for a passing minute, it would have seemed that the man didn't realize the girl had arrived. Perhaps he hadn't; it wouldn't be the first time he had withdrawn within the walls of his own minds, unaware of his surrounding. Yet after she spoke, he broke into soft laughter, bowing his head a bit lower as if to hide the small smile that had appeared. He raised his head again mere seconds after, licking his lips that the wind had chapped, his smile still plain on his face.

"Ah, if more people became lost in their thoughts, half of them would find something they hadn't realized they were looking for." He squinted his bright blue eyes as he turned to look at her, raising his eyebrows quickly as he laughed yet again. Gregory always laughed, and he had a laugh that was contagious. It was another quality about him that hadn't changed over the years; he always found something to laugh about.

"Ame, I'm thirty-eight, not dead." He pouted, pursing his lips like a child who had just told 'no'. A mermaid's tale hit the water beneath them, but his eyes didn't leave the girl's face, His position switched as he spoke; he turned his body to face her, his left elbow still perched upon the railing as he draped his right arm in front on him. He had never been one for "inconspicous" behavior with both parties watching the water, speaking softly with terse conversation. He liked watching the face of the person he was talking to. He knew he'd be able to get away with it with Ame; she wasn't as strict about that unspoken rule.

Ryan, however, had gotten more jumpy over the past weeks, and refused to meet Greg in an open place such as the Blackfriars Bridge anymore. Little red flag #24 when it came to his nephew.

Ametrine looked...well, he supposed. Better than Ryan had, the last time Greg saw the boy. She was once again hiding within her dark clothing, as she usually did when she met with Greg. He didn't mind; he knew it was a precaution on her part. Yet he couldn't help but feel that she was hiding something with her clothing, something from him that he knew had something to do with Ryan.

Over the weeks, he'd noticed something was missing about her. A part of her personality that was so apparent when she was with the boy, something that had disappeared a month after Gregory had left the Institute. Parabatai relationships were something Greg could never understand; he didn't have one- or ever wanted one. But he knew the girl enough to notice when even the slightest thing about her changed.

It was odd when he noticed the change in Ame, but undeniably a problem when the same thing occurred with Ryan. He wanted to ask, but he knew the kids wouldn't tell him. They didn't tell him a lot of things.

"How've you been, Ametrine?" He started out with the same question every time the girl came to see him. He hoped, one day, she'd actually tell him how she was. Really was. Maybe she would today. He doubted it.

Just like he doubted the mermaids would actually ever talk to him again.

The exact reaction Ame had expected from Greg, one of his soft, heartwarming and contagious laughs. Even if he didn’t manage to infect the girl with his trademark laugh, he’d near always put a smile on her face with it. Something about it was so…pure? Alive, maybe? He was, despite how much Ame would deny it, so much more alive than both Ryan and herself—not because he’d live in the moment as the two kids did, but because he just…enjoyed the smallest things. Bathed in full by the littlest joys of the world that many over looked, including Ametrine a lot of the times. She’d always be living up high, going big and unstoppable, never letting a chance go by, but rarely taking it slow enough to notice and enjoy something as small as the simmer of a mermaid’s tail in the sunlight.

Eyes moving from the water, she looked to Greg, head draped down for a moment, but the girl able to catch the smile on his face, making her feel a bit at ease despite how screwed up everything was at the moment. Knowing he was still, well, him was, the man who was able to smile and be happy, it was comforting. It also helped to know that, even if she hadn’t seen Ryan since that damnable near miss a month back, that he had, surely, felt this same comfort at least once since he’d bailed on the Enclave because he wasn’t resistant to the comfort that Gregory could make anyone feel.

Ah, since Ryan left—no, see, he hadn’t just left. The selfish little bastard vanished and abandoned Her. Fuck him deserting the Enclave—she understood why he’d do that. But he left her, using damn burner phones and messages he’d managed to sneak into her room when she was away to tell her that ‘it was better that he vanish rather than tell her anything’. Bull. Shit. It was better for whom? It sure as hell wasn’t better for her. Losing her best-friend, her parabatai, half of her world after having lost the other half when Greg had been removed from the Enclave and booted from the institute—that was better for her than…what? Than her leaving with him? Than her being in the loop and in-touch with him? Than—damn selfless prick. The words she had lined up for him for when she finally cornered his slipper self.

That day was upon them, and she could feel it. Soon enough, that boy would be caught and forced to plead for mercy.

But for now, she let those thoughts subside, focusing on Gregory and that grin of his as he spoke of how if more people thought, they’d find something they had never been looking for. God, a deep thought. If Ametrine thought for too long, no doubt she’d surface from those dark waters with some sort of monster that should have never been hunted down, now about to be unleashed on the world because she’d found it. Some realization about how Ryan simply running away wasn’t enough, that there needed actual action taken if things were ever going to change—if downworlders were ever going to be treated like the humans they were. See? Big, scary, and dangerous monsters lurking in her thoughts, and she should never go fishing for those. No one could afford for her to think as much as Greg did. Another laugh and another wave of warmth blanketing over Ame’s heart.

”Ame, I’m thirty-eight, not dead.” Her smile grew into a smirk, eyes going back to the water as he put on that adorable face, the one that reminded her too much of a kid who’d just been smacked on the hand for trying to grab a cookie and being told ‘bad’ by his mother. But her gaze soon traveled back to Greg as he straightened up and looked to her, always being one for face-to-face conversations, he was. She was the same. She liked to see the person she spoke with, another reason why Ryan’s little messages were getting more than just under her skin.

Still with her arms on the railing, head tilted to look at him, Greg was quick to redirect the subject to the ‘how have you been?’, a question that would bring them at lightning speed to the ‘why didn’t you bring Ryan with you? Haven’t seen you to together in ages…everything okay?’ The lies she’d told, she’d lost track of, and she was certain Greg was catching on to there being something wrong, but she’d keep her mouth shut awhile longer. It’d be too much for Greg to handle knowing his nephew left the Enclave because Gregory had been all but abandoned by them.

She stood up, turned her back to the rail as she took in a breath, thinking of what to say as she placed her palms on the bridge’s edge and lifted her butt onto it. “I’ve been well,” she said, and that was…true—at least in the physical sense. She didn’t have any serious injuries, wasn’t sickly or anything like that, so yeah…she was well. Not good, but well. The definition of wordplay? Avoiding lying by picking very specific words.

Now steady on the rail, she turned her head to look at Greg, letting him get that eye-to-eye contact he needed--probably wanted to see in her eyes if she was telling the truth or not. Flashing a small smile, she went on, “Hunted down a demon that’d been terrorizing downtown, and took care of it like the champ I am.” Truth…but she’d made a mistake, one she quickly caught, smile fading for a second. The champ I am. She squinted her eyes, focusing on the little area at the edge of Greg’s eyes, making way for her redirection. “Are you sure you’re just thirty-eight, Greg? Cause those crows’ feet are pretty predominate…”

Laughter is the food for the soul. Gregory had read that somewhere a long time ago. He didn't take to reading books often; not much information was able to be kept in his wandering mind at anytime, yet that saying had stuck with him. There was always a reason to laugh with him, always a reason to smile. Always a reason to live.

"The day I stop smiling is the day you definitely need to worry about me."

He hadn't stopped smiling yet, even though he knew the two were continuously worried about him. A misplaced effort, he considered it, but he appreciated the thought.

He could almost imagine the wheels spinning as Ametrine's head as she grasped the concept of lost in thought. There were many different types of getting lost in your own mind, each unique to his own person. Some, such as Gregory, preferred to sink deep with their minds whenever they had a moment of peace and quiet. Such a reverie was more typically for the man, as now his days were filled with little to no disturbances. Once inside, Gregory would wander, unaware of the world surrounding until someone bothered to pull him back out again. However, there were others that were continuously lost in their own minds. Greg had always considered Ame to be one of the latter. She could be fighting demons, training in the Institute, or holding a serious conversation, yet her mind was always thinking, always moving. She was always lost, yet she barely even recognized the fact. Even now, Greg could see there was more going on inside her head than she let on; she was as much lost as he had been mere minutes before she arrived.

Yet her thoughts were only meant to be her own; he would never know what her worries were behind her pretty eyes.

His smile grew a bit wider as Ame granted him the ability to look her in the face, pleased that he had gotten her to smile. She understood how much he needed- how much he craved even the smallest bit of one-on-one contact. He had always been one for even the tiniest connection; as a baby, he was always attached to his mother; he would cry for hours if he were left in a room all on his own. He didn't need to speak a word; he just enjoyed being in the presence of others, to view their emotions, to relate to their feelings. He had referred to himself once as an emotional vampire; it was if he needed to feed off of someone else's presence to feel alive.

Would have made more sense had he'd been bitten by a vampire, wouldn't it? Of course, the world always had a funny way at looking at things; as perturbed he was with his newfound lycanthropy, he greatly preferred it to having to cower inside of buildings until the sun left the sky. That would have been torture.

Ametrine avoided his gaze as she answered his question, choosing instead to shift her position into one of more comfort to her. Gregory took notice of the distraction; another attempt to throw his suspicions. She was well. He received nearly the same answer every time he asked; he wasn't sure why he continued to ask. She wasn't exactly wrong; she looked well. She was healthy, no serious injuries that would be worrying to him. She was well in every sense of the word.

Ryan was also well in the sense of the word; or at least, that was what Gregory was supposed to infer. The boy always seemed to ignore that question.

His smile fell slightly as Ametrine continued on, choosing to tell him about a demon she had slain since their last meeting. He had no doubt about that, of course; he had heard hearsay about rampant demon a few nights back. The way she had worded him had caught him offguard; the champ that I am. I. The first person. Ametrine had stopped using the pronoun "I" when she was sixteen years old. Since then, it had been "we", for Ryan was rarely separated from her. She must have realized her own mistake as well, for she was quick to deflect to a topic that Gregory was continuously sore about.

He caught himself before his smile fell too significantly, choosing instead tilt his head in order to scratch behind his ear. "Bruises, or it didn't happen." He countered in a playful manner. That was a recurring statement between the three of them, ever since he ha accidentally mentioned his motto from his younger days as a Shadowhunter.

He found it interesting how they both seemed to forget that Gregory was no longer a shadowhunter, but a werewolf. His ability to use his senses had increased greatly since the night he had been bitten. He could smell the feelings of those that surrounded him; happiness, sadness, excitement, anxiety, fear. Each one lit up a different flag for the man. If he tried hard enough, he could hear the beatings of their hearts, how they quickened with different words and phrases.

He could hear Ametrine's heart beat faster as she changed the topic.

His right hand flew to the edge of his eye, massaging the skin beside them as he glared in amusement at the girl. "When you get to be my age, Ame, I really do hope you have someone who teases you as much as you tease me." He pouted, his worry momentarily forgotten. It was easy to get Greg off track like that; but the worry that concerned both Ame and Ryan wasn't so easy for him to forget. He always remembered, no matter what the pair did to assure him that there was nothing wrong.

He sighed, turning his head once again into the wind, his eyes cast over the bridge. "Don't grow older, Ame." He murmured softly, a small smile faint upon his lips. "Don't let time sweep you away from those who mean the most to you."

((didn't read through, didn't edit, don't even remember half of what all this crap says DX. Good luck!))

Had he noticed? That was something hard to tell with Gregory, and it always would be. Had he noticed? Or had his weirdly wired mind had him off somewhere else, going unnoticed to some things? He gave no indication, at first, drifting into familiarities by saying the motto he’d regretted ever speaking in front of his nephew and her. ”Bruises, or it didn’t happen.”

For each simple outing the three ever had, there would be at least one bruise on them afterwards. Something would always happen, always drag them down some twisty path and into a ‘mess’—Ame liked to refer to it as a good night out. Messes didn’t exist; there was only life, and sometimes it got…wild, hectic, and unpredictable, but it was never a mess. A mess would imply there needed to be some cleaning up, fluffing of the pillows and straightening of the covers. The crap Ryan, Greg, and Ame ended up in…it didn’t needed to be cleaned up. It needed to be embraced—for them to wreck the room up even more and enjoy the disorder, uncertainty, impulsion, adrenaline rush—it was living. It was their motto; it was their lifestyle.

Except it wasn’t their life now. Their life had been broken into three parts, rarely to touch. Ametrine no longer had ‘messy’ nights out with her parabatia—with her best friend. She no longer had nights out with her mentoring-uncle figure. She no longer lived life with the use of a plural pronoun.

”When you get to be my age, Ame, I really do hope you have someone who teases you as much as you tease me.” Her smile, still in place, grew. If he had notice, he wasn’t going to bring it up…not yet, anyhow. Ame had no tact. If she wanted to know something, she wouldn’t dance about. She’d ask then and there; she’d not waste time in a game of wit and smarts. Biding her time? Waiting to make a move? That’s how someone would lose everything, how they’d lose all their time—lose their life without even noticing. Fuck that. Now or never, right? Now, she wasn’t dumb, she was more than capable of understanding how a plan of attack along with ‘bidding one’s time’ may be useful, but it just wasn’t for her. It wasn’t her. She couldn’t do it.

There was a very brief moment of guilt pinging through the girl at the hurt puppy look Greg had at her comment, though. His age was a sensitive thing, despite how much he’d play it off at times. He worried that he was, in fact, getting old. It didn’t make sense for him to worry; no matter his age, Greg would always be young at heart and mind. He’d never grow up, and he aged well, right on the road to a silver-fox. Now that would make him blush, wouldn’t it? She’d have to point that out. He let out a sigh before the compliment got to roll from her tongue, however, causing her to hold her breath, smile fading a bit as she waited for what came next, fearful it’d be a jab at getting the truth from her.

”Don’t grow older, Ame.” Smile gone, eyes softening, she kept her breath held as she looked at the side of his face. Even with the faintest of grins on his lips, the girl could see through. She could see the…pain? Was it pain? Pain in his words? Worry, perhaps? She couldn’t place her finger on it, but it held weight to it, his words and meaning, weight that only grew heavier as he continued. "Don't let time sweep you away from those who mean the most to you." Heavier conversations were not something she was down for at the moment; there were times, especially when a little under the influence, she’d dive into a deeper subject. But this wasn’t one of those times. No, this was a time to avoid these topics. She was on the edge of a cliff, and too much of a wind could push her right off, exposing a truth she knew Greg couldn’t handle at the moment. This topic was that wind, or at least the breeze before the harsh gust, she could feel it, and she wouldn’t let it hit her.

Part of her couldn’t help wonder, though, if this was even about her. It almost sounded as if he was saying it in sorrow, as if he’d, himself, let things sweep him away from who meant most to him. But that didn’t make sense because he hadn’t let time break his bond with Ryan or her, or with anyone else she could think of, for that matter. It didn’t occur to her that he could be referring to the years prior to her being around, to the life he’d had before he became a ‘father’ to his nephew and the guardian of her. It didn’t occur to her that Greg may have voids in his life, because it didn’t occur to her that he needed anyone other than the duo and the trio they made all together. In that moment, however, it finally hit her; her guardian may have given up more than he’d ever say to become the man he was today. Did he have regrets? She couldn’t end up like that, with regrets. Regrets were able to take from Greg’s smile, and that said more than any words could. She wouldn’t be able to handle regrets.

Letting out her held breath, Ame’s eyes moved from the side of Greg’s face, looking across the bridge, not seeing much of anything considering her mind was far from that bridge. “You know me and time aren’t close enough for it to be sweeping me off anywhere,” she assured, lips pulling up at one edge into a smirk. It wouldn’t get in her way, time; the only thing that would get in her way was herself—and as of that moment, Ryan. Ryan was in her way, pushing her further and further away as he receded into hiding. He was her brick-wall, her pitfall, her dead-end with regards to keeping her from one of the two people she cared for most in the world for. Redirect the subject. She glanced back to Greg, smirk fading. “Ya know, it’s never too late to do anything, even for an old dog like you.” Dog. Ha. “What’d you let time take from you, exactly? And don’t say nothin’, cause I smell regret on you like cheap cologne.”