Post by Carley on Oct 1, 2015 13:20:01 GMT -8
Charlotte "Charlie" North
Born September 14, 1972 (43 years old)
Pediatrician, private practice
Son: Tucker North, living
( Face: Naomi Watts
Screen name: None, NPC )
Pediatrician, private practice
Son: Tucker North, living
( Face: Naomi Watts
Screen name: None, NPC )
"Beware the thing that beckons you from the darkness," Charlie's grandmother told her, and her cousins Ginger and Valerie, when they were young. "You're pretty. He'll find you. Each of you. He finds all the pretty ones."
Young Charlie had so much more to offer the world than being pretty. Sure, she was lovely. Blonde hair, blue eyes, delicately built. But that wasn't where her heart lay. In fact, she could tell you exactly where her heart lay, and name all of its valves, and describe which order the blood passes through them each time the heart beats. Frog dissections, advanced placement biology, human anatomy. These were what fascinated her when her peers were experimenting with makeup and trying to attract boys. She was called a tomboy, though maybe that wasn't the right word. She preferred "budding naturalist."
Charlie North had no room for love. Period. Oh, she loved her friends, and she loved her family. She was particularly close to Ginger. But she had no room for romance. It would just cut into her studies. Pre-med. Med school. Oh, the sky was the limit for her. Though she never entertained the notion of having children, she was fond of them, and decided to become a pediatrician.
It was May when she and Ginger were lured into the arms of the same man, Sebastian Moreau. He was dark. He smelled like smoke. His mouth tasted like sweet cinnamon. He made Charlie ache in ways that left her breathless.
The boy was born on a frigid January morning. One of Charlie's mentors delivered him, and then handed him over to her with a smile that looked like she was just melting. Charlie melted too. He had her eyes. He was such a well-behaved little boy. Even when he wasn't, it was almost impossible to get mad at him the second he turned those inquisitive blues on her.
The years went on. Sebastian didn't stay, but Charlie didn't expect him to. Tucker was frightfully clever and never once complained when he had to stay with his grandparents because Charlie was working a night shift. She developed a steady list of patients, including a family that had a peculiar pattern of loss. Her first attempt to investigate it was thwarted by a phone call. "Don't pursue it, bluebird," Sebastian purred. "It'll lead you places you surely don't want to go. Just make sure the authorities don't know. They'll ask too many questions."
"But those children," she whispered into her phone, looking over her shoulder to make sure her son wasn't in the room. "They could be ours, Sebastian. That little boy today could have been Tucker."
"No, Charlie. It will never be Tucker. So long as he stays away from the Lyons children, it will never be Tucker."
Despite her cheerful and kind demeanor, so similar to her son's, Charlie is a repository of secrets. She has the names and dates of death of too many children who share a surname. An incubus visits her doorstep regularly now, and he still makes her ache and he still tastes like sweet cinnamon.
Her son wants to marry a Lyons. But like hell will she sit idle and wait for a child named North to come to her, dead.
Young Charlie had so much more to offer the world than being pretty. Sure, she was lovely. Blonde hair, blue eyes, delicately built. But that wasn't where her heart lay. In fact, she could tell you exactly where her heart lay, and name all of its valves, and describe which order the blood passes through them each time the heart beats. Frog dissections, advanced placement biology, human anatomy. These were what fascinated her when her peers were experimenting with makeup and trying to attract boys. She was called a tomboy, though maybe that wasn't the right word. She preferred "budding naturalist."
Charlie North had no room for love. Period. Oh, she loved her friends, and she loved her family. She was particularly close to Ginger. But she had no room for romance. It would just cut into her studies. Pre-med. Med school. Oh, the sky was the limit for her. Though she never entertained the notion of having children, she was fond of them, and decided to become a pediatrician.
It was May when she and Ginger were lured into the arms of the same man, Sebastian Moreau. He was dark. He smelled like smoke. His mouth tasted like sweet cinnamon. He made Charlie ache in ways that left her breathless.
The boy was born on a frigid January morning. One of Charlie's mentors delivered him, and then handed him over to her with a smile that looked like she was just melting. Charlie melted too. He had her eyes. He was such a well-behaved little boy. Even when he wasn't, it was almost impossible to get mad at him the second he turned those inquisitive blues on her.
The years went on. Sebastian didn't stay, but Charlie didn't expect him to. Tucker was frightfully clever and never once complained when he had to stay with his grandparents because Charlie was working a night shift. She developed a steady list of patients, including a family that had a peculiar pattern of loss. Her first attempt to investigate it was thwarted by a phone call. "Don't pursue it, bluebird," Sebastian purred. "It'll lead you places you surely don't want to go. Just make sure the authorities don't know. They'll ask too many questions."
"But those children," she whispered into her phone, looking over her shoulder to make sure her son wasn't in the room. "They could be ours, Sebastian. That little boy today could have been Tucker."
"No, Charlie. It will never be Tucker. So long as he stays away from the Lyons children, it will never be Tucker."
Despite her cheerful and kind demeanor, so similar to her son's, Charlie is a repository of secrets. She has the names and dates of death of too many children who share a surname. An incubus visits her doorstep regularly now, and he still makes her ache and he still tastes like sweet cinnamon.
Her son wants to marry a Lyons. But like hell will she sit idle and wait for a child named North to come to her, dead.