[closed] my soul is from elsewhere

[stefanged]

[Luceti did not like Stefan, and in turn, Stefan didn't like it much either. While the running electricity and water was adequate, and he had sufficed a "decent" existence, it wasn't home. He had wandered the US for nearly a century. He had seen a great many things, and yet none of it had prepared him for this.

Instead of retreating into his shell, though, he had decided to take the plunge and attempt to befriend people. The werewolves from La Push hadn't ended well - Stefan accidentally mistook them for dinner - but for the most part, he had created some kind of social circle that... well, it was certainly better than the one he had at home.

When was the last time he was actually meeting friends for dinner? Guy friends, and not the random shopping sprees Caroline would drag him out on? He didn't remember. He really, really couldn't.

So, tonight, as he stands in the center of the village, awaiting Luke's arrival, he glances down at his magic journal every few seconds. People are always posting on it, and while not much pings him enough to respond, their stories are entertaining enough to keep him distracted while he waits.]