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Owen is not particularly happy at the way things have occurred within Oakhurst. He's a simple vampire, he woke up when humans entered his territory, he wanted to slaughter them all and water the ground with their blood. Unfortunately, Scott Goldsmith made that impossible to do quickly. Now he's stuck in an interminable social game, caring for fledglings their deadbeat sire foisted upon him.
Owen stalks into the half completed dining hall of the soon-to-be manor. Scott and his insistence of elegance and wealth has Owen running around the mountain valley of Oakhurst's forests to gather dark oak logs for the flooring and a table. What he would give for some nice iron tools to carve the flooring and table with. Alas. The only iron tool currently within the bounds of the barrier is the axe Louis gifted him and Owen will kill whomsoever decides to touch it.
The fledglings are... fine. For the most part. Pyro is a prideful coward who thinks Owen will let his comments and remarks continue without consequences. Owen may not consider himself loyal to Scott or the fledglings, but the four vampires are stuck in a makeshift coven until Owen can finally glut himself on the town's humans and return to his hole. For now, he snarls at Pyro and lets the fledgling dig a deeper grave. Scott's not reeling Pyro back, but is well aware of the comments and has given no uncertain mentions of Owen breaking that little habit of Pyro's. A cocky fledgling is a dead fledgling, and neither Scott nor Owen want to deal with either option.
Shelby is alright. Owen lets her cling and bounce around because it's only mildly annoying at times. Her enthusiasm at being a vampire is refreshing after Pyro's cowardice and kowtowing to Scott. At least one of the fledglings is properly appreciative of the gift.
The dining hall is dark, the old table runner that survived the fire crumpled at the end of the decaying table. Owen almost walks right past the small figure on the table.
"Owen! Down here!" Shelby yells, waving her arms about. Owen turns his head and finds a tiny version of Shelby jumping around to get his attention.
"Hm?"
He adjusts his path to be in front of Tiny Shelby, crouching slightly to be at a closer eye level. What he is coming to realize is the actual Shelby, somehow shrunken down to about the length of his fingers, darts closer to his face.
"Owen! Thank goodness, I've been stuck here alone for ages," Shelby whines. They reach out towards his face, a pout taking over their own. Owen raises an eyebrow and blinks a few times.
Shelby is still tiny and in front of him on the table. Grunting, he scoops her into a loose fist. She yelps and beats at his fingers for a moment, glaring up at him.
"Rude! You need to ask a shrunk person before grabbing them willy-nilly!" Shelby even wags her finger at him. He snorts, holding her closer to his face, twisting his hand every which way to assess what's happened. Shelby is not enthused by the manhandling, wiggling and beating at his hand.
"Sorry. Wasn't sure what I was seeing," Owen mutters. He adjusts his grip on her to an open palm, letting her tumble into the middle of it. He curls his fingers a little behind them, making sure they don't fall off. They'd likely die from the fall, and Owen does not want to hunt for them in the crypt. "How did this happen? Last I checked, the humans didn't have the power to shrink vampires."
Shelby sits on his palm, swiping at nonexistent dirt on her skirt hem. She holds onto the bandages wrapped across his hand and glares at him.
"I don't think I want to tell you. Not after the rough treatment," they snip, closing their eyes and turning their face to the side. Owen would be more offended if she wasn't giving off an imitation of a hamster. He resists the urge to poke their cheek.
"Would it help if I apologized again? Or if I got you some blood?" It's not like Shelby being mad at him is particularly horrible, but it does annoy him. Better to keep on their good side, much less trouble. Everyone's favorite coven member is Shelby, after all.
Shelby is silent for a moment, thinking on the offer. There's not much Owen can do to mitigate the situation. With a nod, Shelby jumps to their feet and stands with their hands on their hips. They point up at him. He stares down with a bemused frown.
"I'll tell you what happened. BUT! Only if you get me some blood, and also take me out of this room. I've been stuck here waiting for someone for hours."
Owen huffs, fondly rolling his eyes. He brings his other hand up to cup at the one holding her. She grins and grabs onto the barrier of his fingers and leans into it.
"As you wish, my princess," he mutters.
He makes sure to move slow at first, so both of them can get used to the change. Shelby yelps and digs her tiny claws into the fingers of his left hand. Owen grunts, adjusting his hands slightly when he feels and sees them start to tip over. As they both adjust, he picks up the pace to the store room right off the side of the dining hall.
Owen stops in front of the various chests and shifts how he holds Shelby. He murmurs a quick apology as he holds her in a fist. She doesn't object, much. It's quick work finding the chest the coven's been using for their blood and meat stores.
"Meat or bottle?"
"Meat will probably be cleaner."
Owen grunts, pulling out a chunk of raw pork. He closes the chest and drops Shelby on top of it, followed by the raw meat. He collapses into sitting in front of the chest. He's still a bit too high above Shelby's eye-line but at least they can now make easy eye contact.
"Thanks, Owen. I was getting hungry."
He hums, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling for a moment.
"Think nothing of it. It's abundantly clear you would struggle far too much to open the chest. Least I could do is help."
Shelby tears off a small piece the size of her torso, slightly congealed blood slowly seeping down her arms. They beam up at him, showing off their fangs that he can barely see. At least he's a vampire, if he were human, he probably wouldn't have even seen them on the table at all, even with the shouting and moving. Owen takes the rest of the pork after they step away from it. He sinks his teeth into the meat and bites off a chunk. Idly, he notes the chunk is roughly Shelby's current size. He shakes his head slightly and waits for Shelby to start talking.
"I was looking for some coal in the caves under the castle ruins. I wanted to make some glass, and we were out of charcoal and the wood we have is for rebuilding. I was just wandering around down there, I didn't expect to find much. I only found this weird little alcove with an old skeleton and a bag. The skeleton was long dead, not even one of the reanimated ones. The bag was in surprisingly good condition. I went to take a look through it and next thing I knew, I was tiny. I batted to get out of the cave and figured that waiting for someone in the dining room would be my best bet to fixing this. You know the rest," Shelby chirps. They take the final bite of their pork and Owen fights back the incredibly intense urge to pinch their cheeks. It's unfair how much like a hamster Shelby appears at the moment. He nods instead, taking another bite of his own pork.
"Maybe it'll wear off on it's own," Owen says through the mouthful of pork. He swallows, and watches Shelby fidget for a few seconds. "If it doesn't, Scott might have something hidden in the crypt we could try."
"What if the town is the only way to return to my normal height?"
Owen thinks around the last part of his pork. As much as he loathes the humans in Oakhurst, he would much rather have them help Shelby first before he kills them. He wipes his hands off on his pants, ignoring Shelby's judgemental stare and stands. He stretches his arms above his head.
Shelby watches him as he holds his right hand next to her. He would just grab her, but letting her get on will keep any struggling and wiggling from happening. They step onto his hand and sit in the middle, holding the bandages again. He holds back a grimace at touching somebody, and at having his bandages touched.
"Let's try to find Scott first," Owen decides.
He maneuvers his left hand to be perpendicular to his right hand again, cupping it around Shelby as he starts the search for Scott. Shelby leans against his fingers, resting her head on the nub of what remains of his left index finger. It's so reminiscent of when he would relocate mice and rats from his cabin.
-
Shelby is unsure of the situation they've gotten into. At least Owen is helping. They kind of expected him to be ambivalent to them about it, but he's helping.
Being tiny is nerve-wracking. It reminds her of being chased down by Scott and Pyro on the beach, and of running from the burning beacon as she crumbled to dust. She feels as small as she physically is.
A couple birds tried swooping at them while they ran to the castle ruins. Luckily, she was able to heal from any injuries caused by it, but the terror remains in her memory.
They've never been able to observe Owen this closely before. He's very self-conscious for someone so murderous. The opposite of Scott in looks and behavior. Maybe she should add a romance around that dynamic to her fanfictions about Oakhurst? Owen and Scott certainly dance around each other plenty enough to mimic some fanfiction she's read.
Owen's hands are covered in bandages, not his fingers though. But he doesn't have all of said fingers either. His left hand is missing a couple digits of his index finger and the pinkie finger on it is basically nonexistent. There's a divot in his right palm, muscle eaten away and replaced by scar tissue. His right ring finger barely has a fingernail (claw?) from how short the first digit is. That's just his hands too.
Owen's face isn't covered in bandages, but Shelby finds their eyes drifting across the handful of circular and oval scars scattered along his jaw and cheek. His illness caused him all this pain. His illness that reminds Shelby of the lepers that were driven outside Sunnyside's gates when all they wanted was some protection from the elements. Her mother beat the brakes off of her for vocalizing a desire to help them. Owen would have faced similar treatment, if not worse, two hundred years ago as a human. It makes their heart ache for him.
She rests her head against his left index finger, pressing her left hand against the calloused skin of his left hand. He has a workman's hands. His skin is cold, dead and clammy against them. The pork they shared is the first time Shelby had seen Owen eat in the last three days. It brings to mind Scott's frustrated mutterings of Owen "starving himself for a misguided sense of guilt." Shelby wants to help Owen with that. They resolve to watch his blood and meat intake more closely. No member of their family is going to starve on their watch!
The rocking motion of Owen's steps has Shelby's eyes closing. She adjusts her neck, leaning her jaw on the middle finger, facing the environment beyond the hands. A rumble starts in her chest, moving up into her threat. She opens an eye in confusion, but figures it's just a vampire thing to purr. They ignore Owen's stumble and sharp inhale when he realizes they're purring in his hands. Yeah, be sappy Owen, they trust you completely.
-
Shelby opens their eyes to Scott's face taking up their entire vision. They yelp and flail backwards onto hard wood. Where's Owen?!
Scott backs up, smiling in that coy way that means he's plotting something, or thinking something embarrassing about her. Shelby scowls up at him before looking around. She finds Owen sulking next to the desk she's on, staring at her like a hawk. Good. He didn't leave.
"You're awake! Good, good!" Scott chirps. He pulls a chair away from the desk and sits in it, folding his hands beneath his head to lean his elbows on the desk. Shelby steps away from where his elbows cage them in slightly.
"You are entirely too amused by this situation," Owen huffs, rolling his eyes. He rests a hand on the edge of the desk, still watching Shelby without blinking.
"Our Shelby is tiny and cute like a little mouse! Of course I'm amused. Excuse me for having a sense of whimsy," Scott huffs back. He's also staring at Shelby with undivided attention. She's never noticed how large and sharp his fangs are until that moment. She fights down the jolt of fear at fangs half her height so close to her. It's Scott, he'd never hurt her (again, her turning was a one-off event).
Owen's lip curls up, showing off a fang and scoffing. At least he finally blinked. It's a bit unnerving being stared down by two vampires that much larger than her.
"It's a shame we have to fix this so soon. You're absolutely darling like this, Shelby. Like a little doll! But this is something I've encountered before, so it's a relatively easy fix." Scott sits up, nudging them to the side. They yelp and bat at his hand with a hiss, earning a chuckle from him. Jerk. He reaches for a small book, shorter than she is and the same width. He pulls it away and opens it. "A quick spell should have you right as rain. Another one will have you tiny again, or anyone else, should they so choose, but that's a component spell that takes some gathering to accomplish. Close your eyes, dear."
Shelby frowns pensively, but closes her eyes as instructed. Scott says something in a language she doesn't understand and then a jolt of fire crawls up her spine. They screech, lunging away from where they stood, seeing only Martyn swinging his lantern and smelling the burning of their own flesh. The hard stone of the floor reaches up to her and she crashes with another screech. Hands grab onto her, or try to. She shouts, biting at one that gets too close to her face.
Hissing, she scrambles backwards into the wall. The fire lessens and she calms, no more attempts to constrain her helping. Her eyes are still closed, and she takes a deep breath in. Exhaling, they open their eyes and find Owen and Scott standing warily a good distance from them.
"Are you back with us?" Scott asks. His hand is bleeding, old rusted blood dripping onto the stones. Owen stands beside him, watching with a predator's gaze, waiting to intervene.
"I... I am. Sorry about that. Bad memories," they breathe. Standing, they dust off their skirt and shakily smile at their coven members. "Thank you for helping me!"
Owen grumbles too quietly to understand, turning to look at the wall, a dusting of blush across his cheeks. Scott beams, bowing with an over-exaggerated flourish.
"It was no problem, dear. Let's go convert a beacon to get back into the groove, yes?"
Shelby nods, following Scott out of the room and into the crypt. What a day this has been.