Welcome to the Freakshow...[Pedro]

[Preston James]

Being new in town isn't all that hard of an experience for Preston. Sure he has traveled enough for almost anyone, but with just him, his bike, and the open road it was hard to just stop anywhere. Honda made bikes better from before he was born, and with the different odd jobs he had worked since he was teen, it had made fixing the bike up, as well as customizing the 1987 XL600R, sort of an easy task for him.



He didn't want to make this huge scene with coming to a town, where everyone knew everyone, with history and all that, but once he had looked up some images of the beautiful town, he was stuck with it. Supernatural history and all. He had made his way into town, sometime near noon, and it was quite chilly, riding is bike for so long with just a leather jacket.

But Preston liked it that way. The wind in his face, and just him and the open road. It was more than impulse that ad brought Beacon Hills to become more than just some cute small town in his mind. It was the extensive history that the town had had, up to but not including, the vast varieties of supernatural creatures, both dangerous, and docile. 

With a couple more roars from his engine, he had finally made it to town. And just like all those pictures that he had happened across, he had fallen in love. It was a beautiful place, already beginning to feel more like home than any of the dozens of homes that he had been passed around as a child. But the drive had taken a lot out of him, and he started to crave the one thing he knew would keep him going at least for a few more hours, until he could fight of the insomnia in the comforts of his own hotel room. Caffeine. 

Like the town was answering his questions, popped up the Beacon Hills Coffee shop. Cake and Bake. e pulled his bike into the closest parking spot to the door. Instead of driving a car like most hunters, he drove his bike, which left him with the ability to carry less. Sure he had his small dufflebag, and he would just have to wait in getting settled in until the rest of is equipment got sipped to where he was staying. He sighed, thinking about having to buy a bed, and rent an apartment. He cut the engine to the bike, and swung is leg off, taking another look around. "Seems quiet enough.."

He headed inside to order his coffee, for now just a simple black coffee with hazelnut, and sat by the window. He could feel the stares from the other patrons. They knew. Welcome to freakshow, take a good look he thought as he took a sip of his steaming coffee. It was going to be an adjustment..settling down into a town.

[Pedro Jaime Salcedo]

That day was one of those days. Even for a cop, who you'd think would have a pretty exiting job filled with drug busts and criminals, it wasn't. This small town did have murders, and they were unexplainable to humans. So in all honesty he let them get away with things, and he knew it wasn't right, but what could he do? If he was to out right say it was werewolves and supernatural beings, everyone would think he was crazy, and his kids would have a hell of a time in school. That isn't something he wanted to do to them. Doing that to them would be like putting a communist in America. It is just asking to have his children being the social outcasts among the mundanes. So in human reality he had too just keep his mouth shut and pretend they don't exist around them, even though Pedro certainly is far from human.

Cops were suppose to have an exiting job, and a very social job, that's why Pedro loved it. Recently though it's been a drag, and boring. Sure murders are sad but they make things interesting, but with them popping up all the time, it kind of gets old and boring. You begin to stomach the gruesomeness and treat it like an everyday routine. It's like waking up and drinking your coffee in the morning or going to the bathroom. Seriously though, it's boring. Nothing more has been called in besides noise complaints, and he was the one usually sent to deal with those because he was one of the more polite friendly cops. That and he liked to think he was the teens favourite because he'd let them be loud. Pedro has no problem with teenagers drinking, but it's probably due to the fact he's not human and never grew up with the dangers of alcohol. That being said he also doesn't drink much himself because his body simply isn't adjusted to take in the poison, his kids on the other hand, could.

One of the many benefits of being a cop was that he really had a lot of free time and could talk to people. Pedro could easily just stop and talk to everyone about anything instead of staying around the station all day, which to be honest is probably more boring then watching the same documentary three-thousand times. He would much rather be doing his job, being out and about outside, even if it's storming. Honestly nothing really stopped him from doing his job other then his morals and children. He prefers reason over pure law. To Pedro there is always a justified reason for everything and everything has two faces. The one that they show everyone and the one they lock away in a cage, which he is guilty of doing to himself and children. Pedro honestly never meant anything more then to protect what was precious to him, which was indeed a little selfish.

So because today was completely boring and he didn't want to go back to the station to do whatever kind of wretched paperwork that needed to be done, he went to the Cake and Bake. It was a cute shop, a common place he liked to visit to sustain himself. There were little pies, cakes, and even all kinds of tea and coffee, which he didn't drink. Most were just some kind of random blends which he couldn't even say the words due to his accent. Some were in French so he could say about half the word due to French sharing the same language genus. What he ended up doing was just ordering a normal coffee how he liked it, super sugary. It was almost like eating a mouthful of sugar water with a small hint of coffee in it. You're probably wondering how the hell he ever managed to like this kind of sugar coffee. Well when you have six kids and no sleep, you need as much time as possible to be awake.

Noticing the roar of some kind of vehicle he looked to the door and waited as he sipped at his fresh coffee. As the new person walked in the door he smiled. Pedro's uniform was clean, and his hair was done, he was probably flawless at the moment, but maybe a bit intimidating, if it wasn't for the huge goofy smile. Pedro took notice of everyone staring at the unfamiliar face. It was a little weird honestly having everyone stare at you, and he knew the feeling well, because he was once new to the town as well. Without really waiting for the man to get settled down he walked his way up to the blue eyed wonder and stuck his hand out. “Hola,” he smiled without realizing he spoke Spanish yet again. “Are you are new person,” Pedro asked with a tiny tilt of his head.

[Preston James]

Perhaps sitting right in the corner where people could easily look at him wasnt the best idea. Preston sighed as he thought about how easy all of the people had it. Family. It was something you didn't really know or understand until you no longer had it. Part of the reason that he had insomnia was due to the fact to the night terrors that had started after he had begun to hunt. Families that he would have to inform that they were no longer whole.

It was a horrible feeling. To not be able to save someone. As he met some of the stares of the people that have been looking at him since he walked into the coffee shop, he recognized that some of them had already experienced it. It was a look that he knew well, since he saw it every day when he looked in the mirror.

The coffee was helping Preston with the sleep that he would indefinitely be fighting off.
But he wished that he had packed a little more warmer clothes. Sure he had been around colder ares, but the brisk wind that he felt on his bike, made him just wish that perhaps he packed a bit light. He shrugged, and sipped his coffee, thinking that perhaps this was possibly the worst idea that he has had. Bigger cities are easier to meld into.

Before he could even continue his internal monologue long enough to talk himself into leaving, he notices an officer heading towards is way. Great, he think to himself, just what I need. He doesn't even notice the big goofy grin that is plastered on his face. It wasn't like Preston was on a most wanted list, but him coming here, probably not the best idea. And then without missing a beat. The guy speaks to him. Asking him if he is new to town. And was that Spanish?

"Uh..hi." Great. What a great start to a possible horrible conversation. He stammered out the greeting, not really knowing how to approach the situation. Preston assumes that the officer knows most of the people in town. So Preston just sticks out like a sore thumb. "Yeah, just got in, actually. Who knew riding a bike in December would be cold huh?"

[Pedro Jaime Salcedo]

Nothing about this young man seemed off to the brown eyes of Pedro. He seemed like a gentle man, maybe a bit lonely, well more then likely lonely, but he didn't like to assume things. That is a lie though, seeing as he assumes the worst of every situation, and also the best of every situation. It was just something he did to himself from time to time. Some would call him racist while he calls himself a father. A man who worries for his children and wants nothing more then to have them safe. So if being “racist” meant being a father he'd have to label himself a racist. If it takes some unreasonable judging then he will do such a mean horrible thing, because family always comes first.

Pedro continued to keep his smile plastered on his face as if he was a puppy waiting for a treat. A puppy that you always wanted to pull into a hug and let it give you all the kisses. Though Pedro wasn't going to give anyone kisses any time soon, he wasn't that lovey of people. What he would do though is give lots of hugs if people needed them. Even if they didn't need them they were nice to have because they were warm like a hot beach in Mexico. In the very essence of the hug would be some kind of affection and love for the person. Not the iconic Valentines day love, but the friend love, or love as a family. Love that all beings should have for each other but don't. Pedro should have a “free hugs” sign painted on his shirt because he gives more then just free hugs.

Listening to the sapphire eyed man, he nodded. His greeting was a little off, but that was more then expected, Pedro did randomly approach him after all. Besides Pedro isn't the one to just push his title onto other people, and the guy was probably just scared of him or something. So hearing the word bike he instantly thought motorbike. Pedro's eyes lite up as he pictured all the cool two wheeled contraptions that he couldn't drive. Mostly due to the fact he had bad balance on land and would end up killing himself. He did however love the speed and the sound, they pumped adrenaline into his veins. In his head having a motorbike meant you were a bad ass of some sort, probably a rebel. Which he thought was fun and always exciting. “Can I see it,” he asked still standing straight up. His while posture made him seem like it was some kind of inspection. “I really wanna see it. I want to see how everything looks,” he grinned.

[Preston James]

Sometimes, making friends can be really difficult, especially in a profession where you are hired, or sometimes just take on, a job that forces you to kill things. It does things to you. Leave you with an emptiness that just cant be filled. But if you try just hard enough, you might be able to put all the broken pieces that you once called yourself back together again, and find some peace. Or die trying.

Preston liked that the guy seemed kind, looked that he might be the type that would let a few things slide once or twice. And for that, Preston was glad that it was this member of the force that he had met.

It wasn't really a great start to the conversation. He talked about the weather. Well, more so, mentioned it, but still not the best topic of conversation. He tried to avoid his gaze, and his goofy smile that was all encompassing of his face. He didn't even know that there could be officers that looked that good. "Can I see it?"

The question was odd to Preston. Most people when they heard that he had a bike, found him to be either dangerous, or stupid. Or sometimes, both. The pure curiosity that struck the man asking to see his bike was welcomed. Odd. But more than welcoming to him.“I really wanna see it. I want to see how everything looks.”

He took another drip from is coffee cup before answering him."Well, sure, its not much but its mine"He stood from his table that he was sitting at, and reached out his hand to shake. Thats normal human interaction right? "I'm Preston."

[Pedro Jaime Salcedo]

Pedro allowed his smile to stay present in their conversation. There was no point in him in doing anything but smiling. Frowning made people sad and not smiling was just plain boring. If he didn't smile he'd seem uninterested or boring. Boring was the last thing Pedro wanted to be. He wanted to be something interesting, he wanted to be fun. The man really just wanted to light up people's day because it made his day all that much better. Actually it made his day when people smile back to him, so when he goes home he can be stress free. Which is great because it sometimes helps him sleep at night, even though he still has a hard time sleeping. Pedro really loved to smile as a anti stress mechanism.

The Hispanic man listened to him and smiled. Who ever said a motorbike wasn't much. All motorbikes were amazing, they all made a loud noise and were fast, and just in general cool. Like really! People who have motorbikes are instantly on the cool list for any human being on the planet. Sure they were scary machines and could easily kill you, but so can anything else. Then again only certain people can drive them safely, and Pedro wasn't one of those lucky people. Pedro also wasn't even able to ride a bicycle. It was due to the fact he didn't like his feet off the ground, being somewhat clumsy on land and being used to the sea. So riding a bike has never come naturally to him. A car was different because it was easy, you put your foot on a pedal and there you go. You had no need to worry about small things such as balance.

Looking at the man he nodded before noticing he stood up and held out his hand. Pedro looked at him with a hint of confusion then down at the hand. He thought for a brief moment trying to remember things. Pedro may have been living with humans for a while but all their customs seem to blend in and confuse him. After a moment of thinking he finally realized it was a hand shake when the man introduced himself. As a response Pedro stuck his hand out and grabbing the mans rather firmly. Preston's hands were strange. They weren't really rough, and they weren't soft. It was almost like shacking hands with cotton. It was still rough but was still soft all at the same time. Normally in a man Pedro had noticed they had firmer rougher hands then women. Pedro himself had a constant soft feel to them. In no way was it feminine, but really just soft kind of leather. Being a swimmer and merfolk his skin was always smooth and seemingly flawless. “I'm Pedro,” he smiled brightly as he continued to stare at their hands to make sure he was doing it right. “You know we don't get new friendly people often,” he spoke up tenderly. “It's nice to see a nice face,” yet again speaking up while still shaking his hand.

[Preston James]

Preston felt like his look left something to be desired. There was a time when he used to care about impressing everyone, and dressing in such a way. Now the only time he did such things was when he was working a case that called for him to wear an actual suit. Otherwise, it was the very old shirt that had a few stains on it, along with his jeans that probably could do with a trip to the washing machine. Internally, Preston was screaming at himself, for not looking better, when this attractive, but also able to put him in jail, Officer was talking to him.


The guy gave him a funny feeling. Not the normal, I want to kill everything and wear its skin feeling, but the kind that he gets when he sees a hot guy that he knows he has no chance with. Its kinda defeating to realize this before even having a full conversation about anything besides the weather, but he is happy that the guy takes his hand and shakes it. The feel of the guys hand was soft. It was the first thing that he had noticed. Soft, and smooth. Which was great because Preston felt like his hands were too dirty, even though they weren't, or that they were too rough. Hunting, and fixing his bike tended to give him that problem.

Pedro. Pedro. It had a nice ring to it. The way that he rolled the "r" as he had said his name, made Preston smile. He tried to contain it, but the guy was way to cute for his won good. Not good. This isn't some hunt... cant just pick up a guy you like.. He looked down at their hands, and slightly pulled is back, not overly quick or anything, it was just that they were more holding hands when you did that for anything longer than a few seconds.

"You just happened to catch me in my happy place. Sometimes, I just grunt, and look away when people talk to me." He couldn't believe that he just said that. Out loud. To anyone. So not only was he nice, but he was bipolar.. He just blushed, and then started for the door, he needed to get out of the room where everyone had been paying attention to every little word that he had been saying. 

"She's out here if you wanted to get a look at her." He was holding the door open. Who did that anymore?

[Pedro Jaime Salcedo]

Pedro felt a little out of place while doing the handshake. He wasn't sure for one, that he was even doing it right, because one certain hand had to be used, and then there was the appropriate motions and length they should go on for. So it really confused him when it turned from a shaking and slowed down to not moving at all. When they stopped shaking he still held on, for assurance, he blinked. The whole thing confused him, was this part of the traditional handshake? Pedro really didn't know even though he raised six kids on his own, and they ended up fine. He just taught them like he would have in Spain with all the Spanish customs and things, and they seemed to pick up everything else at school, which was a relief off his shoulders. Pedro never let go of the hand just in case.

Noticing the small ting of red on the males cheeks his face turned to questioning. All creatures blushed not matter their race. It usually meant extreme emotions of some kind, most of the time anger or embarrassment. Certainly wasn't anger because the grip didn't tighten on his hand. Maybe he was embarrassed about something? There was nothing Pedro could come up with that would cause him to be embarrassed, so he just dropped the topic in his head. Even though it was a bit cute watching his expression change slightly. It only made him smile brighter, knowing he did something right with the man for once. He didn't screw up as far as he knew, the man just could have been flattered by him being so nice, because that was common with people in this town for what ever reason. Pedro let go when the man let go, just so he didn't look like a fool or suspicious. “That's ok, a lot of people do that and they are really friendly,” he laughed softly.

Letting his body move with the others seemed almost instinctive. The door opened and he looked at the man and smiled, “Gracias,” his Spanish broke through again. It was a nice gesture to open up the door for him, and he took the gesture positively. Pedro walked through the door frame swiftly and quietly.. His comment about her confused him. Who was this her? Was she a girl friend or something. Seriously he was a little lost in his head, and his face showed it. With his head tilted to the side and a small upward push of a single eyebrow it showed the habits of him thinking. He came tot he conclusion that he must ask, which was a little embarrassing. “I'm sorry but I don't understand. Her?” he asked blushing a bit with his smile still showing. “I'm really sorry. English is my second language,” he spoke up.

[Preston James]

Homeless. That was the word that he was looking for. He looked homeless. It had been a long drive, and he had yet to stop in at his hotel, to change or even shower, and he had one more stop until he was even able to do that. Being new to town he didn't want to ask the wrong questions or say the wrong things to people who knew nothing about the things that went bump in the night. So there he was, holding the door open, in his gross clothes, and his jacket that was ready to fall apart.

Pedro was more than nice to him, and he thought he could at least show him the bike. It was the only thing he had had until he had turned 24. Thats when his trust fund had come in, and he was able to do more of the things that he wanted, not scrape by with working in a few hunters bars, passing from job to job. Thank god for dead grandparents with a lot of money. His gaze moved past Pedro, and out to his bike. It hadn't been more than 20 minutes and still he already missed Carmen, that was the name he had given his bike. She was sleek enough, but still fast, and was able to have a decent sized bag strapped to it.

Preston laughed as Pedro talked about the people who were still grumpy in the morning that were nice people. It wasn't that he was grump per say, it was more that he typically got about an hour of sleep, before his internal clock, or the nightmares woke him up. It was also the reason that he burned through a lot of coffee, and could probably buy stock in any coffee shop due to his insomnia and nightmares..

"Uh. Her. My bike. It just a silly thing. I named her Carmen." He had followed the same traditions of name a car a female name, even though he favored men, but still she was his life. He put his bike before anything. Even on hunts. He would ride into town, and then he would normally rent a car. It was easier that way. In case there was a body, or two that he had to bury.

Pedro shared with him that English was his second language, blushing so as he did it. It was cute the way he rolled his tongue when he spoke. Preston thought for a second about what else his tongue could do before speaking again.

"Well, I can't tell. You just sound exotic."

He shook his head and moved toward his bike, putting his hand on the seat. Really? exotic.. you are so bad at this Preston..

[Pedro Jaime Salcedo]

Pedro nodded in understanding to Preston. The her was referring to the mans motorbike. Which now made sense because some people did personify their things. He did it in Spanish, he just didn't know what it sounded like in English nor did he fully understand it. Which was fine of course because he was indeed foreign. Most people knew he wasn't from America, because of his accent, which made complete sense to most. While others who were new really didn't catch onto it all that fast. Pedro couldn't understand why because he himself heard his accent. Then again there are some Americans who just like to ignore the fact that there are immigrants in their country so they just refuse to accept them as anything else but a speech impediment. “Oh, that makes more sense. Thank you,” he smiled with his cheeks still red because he was embarrassed in front of a new person.

Listening to the man speak he smiled. The man aparently didn't know his accent. It was indeed similar to many other Spanish ones, but his is the only “true” Spanish accent, and he's proud of it. “It's Spanish,” he laughed softly at the man. It was really nice to know it sounded exotic. After all he did miss the beaches and oceans of Spain a lot. They were where he grew up, so probably to any supernatural being that had highetened sense of smell, he probably smelt like a summer beach to them. A perfect summer beach that everyone loved to visit. That however was irrelevant to any human being. “Right out of Spain,” he laughed softly. Pedro couldn't help but feel a little flattered, because he loved his accent.

Noticing the bike his eyes lit up yet again. It wasn't anything special for a bike, it was no Harley that was for sure. The bike however was still a very nice bike. The whole thing looked well taken care of. There wasn't a scratch, or a chip of paint off it. The tires still looked like they were fresh out of the factory. It was defiantly shiny and cleaned by someone who was a neat Nazi. This bike was clearly a prized position. It looked like someone sold their soul to get this bike. “Carmen is very pretty,” he smiled brightly as he touched it curiously. Pedro made sure not to put any force behind his touch. Letting his fingers glide over the smooth surface as though they were string, he smiled. His heart raced because he never really got to see one up close, he only got to see them drive through town every now and then. “Sooooo coooool,” Pedro said in awe as he continued to admire the machinery.