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Post by thornshade on May 27, 2017 10:52:07 GMT -5
- Search for a Cure -
Ange has been a werewolf for as long as she can remember. Despite the pack members around her that remember exactly who and when they were bitten, Ange cannot recall a single memory about the day they changed. Ange, however, does know this: she loves the feeling of her body changing when it remains human and also loves the scent of Reed that fills the air just on the edge of woods she inhabits when the wolf inside her emerges. Ange can mostly control her shape change, but has to be careful; if she stays out for too long in even the slightest temperature drops, she will shift into a wolf - permanently - and ultimately will forget all the things she love about being human. Muse B has heard rumors of werewolves in their small town, and actively searches for them. Thus, Reed is elated when Ange emerges from the woods one day with a wolfish grin and a plea for some hot coca, albeit her lack of clothes. As Reed learns more and more about the werewolves that haunt his hometown, the desire in him to help Ange remain human grows. Reed has heard rumors of a cure for werewolves like Ange - but Reed needs to know exactly when and how Ange was bitten in order to make the cure work effectively. Thus, the two adventure on a cross-country journey to help solve Ange's predicament. But will it be successful?
Ange Garcia (amari) 25 years old.
A quick-thinker, though she tends to be rash and impulsive. She's curious and tends to look too deeply into things, though will rein herself back if she really needs to. Not exactly a "nice" person, but not bad, either - she's someone who does things her own way. She's stubborn as a bull, to boot, and not afraid to speak her mind. She's certainly confident in herself, that's for sure.
She's a light, slender woman, at 5'4'', with a toned body. She's built more for speed and stamina than strength, though she's quite certain she could hold her own. Ange's skin is a light shade of brown, and she has a small mole just underneath her left eye. Her hair is tousled and wavy, dark brown in colour and falls just past her shoulder blades - usually in some kind of waterfall braid, if she feels like it. Her eyes are wide and generally lined with double-winged eyeliner, and they're a dark green-blue. Though her body has scars here and there, the most notable would be over her lower lip, cutting right through the middle.
Reed Thompson (thornshade) 23 years old.
Reed is witty and intelligent, but keeps mostly to himself. He is generally pretty passive with people, but if you mention one of his obsessions - Shakespeare, supernatural creatures, or anything about Vincent Van Gogh - he will happily talk to you for hours. He is quick to follow the crowd and goes with the flow, not wanting to offend anyone or take much of a stand, in all honesty. His greatest asset, then, is his ability to see art and beauty in even the darkest of things, even if he could care less about what the waitress serving his black coffee to him believes about the universe. His disinterestedness in human contact has left him pretty lonely and self-centered.
He is a lean, almost lanky, fair-skinned guy who stands at about 6'1. Messy, almost pitch-black curls fall into his mousy-brown eyes and he is rarely seen without his well-worn jean jacket slung over his broad shoulders. His cheekbones are high and his nose is rather long and deftly pointed at its tip. He has no remarkable scarring or moles, but he does have a "Starry Night" tattoo on the inside of his right forearm.
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Post by Deleted on May 27, 2017 11:56:16 GMT -5
[ yo yo i'm on mobile rn but about to switch to laptop - would you like me to start? ('': also glad u like ange lul i have no chances to use her like ever ]
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Post by thornshade on May 27, 2017 12:02:46 GMT -5
(yeah, go for it! ![:)](//storage.proboards.com/6575102/images/lNtnPuxeCzkaKMNYVXVv.gif) )
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Post by Deleted on May 27, 2017 12:06:48 GMT -5
[ NICE nice i'm on my laptop right now so i'm just gonna respond to someone else and then i'll hop right to it! ]
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Post by Deleted on May 27, 2017 12:32:38 GMT -5
It was kind of ironic, she supposed, that she was the largest wolf in her pack.
Ange was large, even by werewolf standards; with long legs and thick fur, she was something to be feared. Outsiders rarely stuck around once they realised the pack had something that could easily take them down, and her pack members had been a little unnerved by her, for a while. Nowadays, they were her family - people to rely on, to talk to. She would die for them and they for her, all looking up to their Alphas and helping each-other through hard times. There was nothing more satisfying than the thank you after she helped someone with a personal problem.
She was only slightly bothered that she didn't remember who had bitten her. Who had caused this to happen. It was supposed to be possibly to be a born werewolf, but she knew, instinctively, that she wasn't one of those. Besides - the scar on her hip had stories, one of the elderly wolves in her pack had once said. It told people that she was bitten.
The day she was bitten was not in her memory - annoying, considering her sharper memory. Sure, she forgot things from time to time, but that didn't mean she'd forget entire days, especially when they were so...important. It bothered her, to a degree. Everyone else could perfectly recall, some could even name the wolf they had been bitten by (and then there would be sheepish looks, rarely, from the one who had done the biting). Yet, here she stood, a wolf with no story to her.
Sometimes it got to her.
The scent was part of a reason to be in wolf form. It was unfamiliar and interesting, often lingered around the edge of the woods. When she was a wolf, it was always don't go near settlements, don't push yourself, and yet she still lived on the edge by going so close to where humans lived. She went there. They all did - had homes there. Would've been kinda silly for people to live in the forest when even the slightest temperature drop could cause them to lose the ability to be human, huh?
She padded along lightly, ears twitching at every little sound. Ange needed to shift back soon, needed to find some warmth. It was too far to her apartment, especially considering she had been a fool enough to shift without considering her clothes. She didn't forget often but damn, when she did, it was always at an inconvenient time. She snorted softly and tilted her head as she scented the air, hopping forward lightly and brushing past some trees. She squinted, thoughtfully, at the outskirts of the forest, and then glanced behind her. If she ran back and asked, she was sure that one of her packmates would help her, would give her cocoa or something similar. Was it worth risking it? She had found the pleasant scent again, nearby. It would be much quicker and easier to just...walk out as a human, ask for hot cocoa. No big deal.
Her pack would be annoyed if they found out about this but frankly, she was impulsive and too curious for her own good. She inhaled deeply as she began to shift back, closing her eyes as she did so. The feeling of changing wasn't supposed to be pleasant, but knowing she was becoming human again - that was a good thought. She stood up once it was done and crossed her arms, tossing some of her hair over her shoulder. There had to be one good thing about the change, and it had to be that her makeup remained in-tact. Meant that she wasted a lot less money.
Ange glanced down at herself, crossed her arms over her chest (hey, what little modesty she could get she would take), and walked out of the forest, as calm as ever. Her hair was tossed over her shoulder lazily, somewhat tangled because she hadn't exactly been relaxing when she had been a wolf. She grinned in a wolfish manner, raised a single eyebrow without much of a care.
"Don't suppose you have some hot cocoa?"
[ -finger guns- hope this'll do ]
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Post by thornshade on May 27, 2017 13:06:22 GMT -5
(that's great!! i love it) Reed had not expected tonight to be the best night of his life, but it was quickly turning out to become so. Why? Well, a) he'd received notice that he really was going to get the chance to lecture to that seniors-only English class about Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice like he'd asked to all those months ago and had been not-so-politely rejected from by the crabby young teacher who was now on maternity leave. He figured it was because he stuck to wearing old sweaters and almost-moldy jean jackets, but who's to say? But, ![B)](//storage.proboards.com/6575102/images/FCb_E4d8JMUDG3m8s9xv.gif) , he'd also learned that his poem about Van Gogh's "Starry Night" that he'd penned when he thought he was dying was actually good enough to get published alongside it in a magazine some well-paying art gallery was curating. (But the dying thing is a whole other story.) At least now he was alive enough to enjoy the profit he'd make off it. And then it happened: c) he met his first werewolf. Well, in person, anyway. (His conspiracy theories were endless.) It was hardly like he'd imagined, but he supposed that few things actually went the way he thought they would in his head. He'd heard rumors, myths, legends, folk tales - whatever you'd want to call them - for years about the pack of werewolves that haunted the woods on the edges of the small town of Westbrooke. He had stacks of photographs of paw prints that turned into footprints and had spent almost all of his time since middle school trying to prove the stories he'd heard true. He just wanted to convince whomever would listen that he was right - that these creatures existed. He couldn't tell you why he was so attracted to werewolves in particular, only that they were a key part of his enchantment with the supernatural and myths-brought-to-life-phenomena he loved. So when a naked, shivering Latina with an uncanny scar across her lips and messy dark hair came to his door begging for a cup of coca, he knew she had to be one of them. "Come on, come in - get out of the snow. It can't be long before you start to change," he insisted, pushing her through the glass door that looked out past his snow-covered deck and into the woods and inside to the his kitchen where a fire was blazing in a hearth a few feet away. "Tell you what," he said, glancing at the woman, excitement rushing through his bones, "I'll get you some clothes and then I'll get you that cup of cocoa, eh? Wait here for a sec," he said, running his hands through his hair in a rush as he raced upstairs, shaking with excitement. He grasped for the first pair of clean clothes he could find - an old burgundy sweater and some gray sweats - and then thundered down the stair well to see her once again. Her. God, he was so excited. A werewolf was in his house! And she was pretty, at that - but then he realized he was staring and motioned her to the bathroom before whirling to make the cocoa she'd asked for, his mind reeling. "So," he called to her from his perch over the coca heating up on the stovetop, "what's your name, love? Do you know where you are?"
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Post by Deleted on May 27, 2017 13:29:41 GMT -5
[ i am glad (': i aim to please lul ]
The offer of clothes as well as cocoa was definitely a good one. Hey, she'd chosen a good doorstep to go to. Last time, it had been the doorstep of another werewolf - she swore that one of her packmates had lived here before. Huh. Probably not, actually. In hindsight, it was probably the other end of town. Hm. Clever. She wouldn't dwell on it now because honestly, she couldn't just go back out. She was already cold and the lower her temperature dropped, the higher a risk of shifting and never returning. It was definitely an inconvenient part of being a wolf.
It was only when her mind flicked to the man's words that she realised, idly, that he knew about wolves. Well. No use in pretending she was just some poor gal.
She tilted her head slightly as she watched him go, rocking back on her heels as she kept her arms crossed. The house seemed pretty decent, in all honesty - but she didn't think too much about it. Mostly, it was warmer than outside; the process would be slowed, and once she was completely warmed, stopped entirely. When the man returned, she glanced to him idly and raised a single, slender eyebrow at him. Well. She was used to being stared at, from time to time, and it really didn't bother her. She took the clothes, headed to the bathroom - mainly because it gave her a chance to see how bad she looked.
Not too bad at all, really. After pulling on the clothes she'd been given (they were far, far too big), she poked at her neck lightly in the mirror. Some bruising, but nothing too bad. Getting into fights with outsiders wasn't something she was too fond of.
It took her a couple of seconds to wash her hands, too, so that they were warmer, for one. Hot water was always ideal. Then, she focused on ensuring that the sweats she had been allowed to wear would stay up. Sharp hearing picked up on the man's words and she exhaled slowly as she walked out of the bathroom, already a great deal warmer. She moved as if she belonged, perched on the counter idly, legs swinging slowly back and forth.
"Ange," she responded lazily, running her fingers through her hair to detangle it. It was an easy enough task. "Yep. Westbrooke, dunno which side, though. Not the side I thought I was. Who're you?"
She didn't seem to be too bothered, really, that she was in a complete stranger's home. Made herself comfortable, watched the stove and only half-focused on rolling up the sleeves to the sweater so she was slightly less ridiculous. She ran her tongue over her lower lip, absently checked her short nails, before looking back to the strange man. He seemed interesting. Definitely not part of the pack, which meant it was highly unlikely he was a wolf - a human who knew about wolves? She supposed there had always been rumours, but really, she hadn't expected anyone to believe them. Trust me, she thought, with some amusement, finding a human who actually knows about us.
Honestly, Ange wasn't complaining. If it meant she was going to be warmed up and treated well, then she was all for it. She'd bask in the attention she got. Wasn't as if there was anything against talking to people about wolves, either; as long as she didn't disclose her pack's location, it was a free for all.
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Post by thornshade on May 27, 2017 13:55:00 GMT -5
"Name's Reed. You're on the north side, but your pack hangs closer to the south side, don't they?" he inquired curiously. "I know what you are, if you hadn't already guessed," he told the woman, sliding the steaming mug her way as he turned to meet her. He felt his eyes float down her figure again and stifled a sigh. Even if the clothes were a bit (perhaps way) too big, she made them look better than they ever had on his own body.
"You're a werewolf - and I know that means you need clothes and heat and someplace to take shelter. I may not look like it," he said, gesturing to his mop of messy curls and the mismatched sweater-and-socks he wore, "but I happen to be one of your biggest allies. I know everything about you, everything about your kind. I," he paused, running his fingers through his hair again, "I want you to know you're safe with me, though, above all else."
"But anyway," he grinned, shifting closer to the comparatively small, dark-haired woman on his counter-top, "who's on the south side of town that you'd want to see? And why did you come to me? How did you know I'd take care of you, hmm?"
He prayed he didn't sound too crazy. He just wanted her to understand he was here to help - here to make sure she kept on living. That the world wouldn't kill her before she realized she was tired of living a double life herself. She looked so brilliant, so at ease, sitting atop his kitchen counter, that he wondered if she'd ever been to his place before. He wanted to know what had drawn her to this place - surely it was the carefully-researched hodge-podge of oils and other things that he'd spread upon his backyard that made him so attractive to her? He supposed in the scheme of things that it didn't matter - he hope that it was his own scent, really, that made her trust this place.
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Post by Deleted on May 27, 2017 14:11:56 GMT -5
The man - Reed, she now knew - did seem to know a lot. Enough that it made her squint thoughtfully for a moment, before she passed it off. If he had been a hunter, she would've been dead. There would've been traps on the way here, and she'd be long gone. This was not a dangerous environment at all, just a man who seemed to know more about wolves than your average person. Everything was probably a huge overstatement, but he knew a fair bit.
She took the mug of cocoa idly, completely fine with the heat of it. She wrapped her hands around the mug and took a sip, and felt warmed almost immediately. That was better. She felt less wolfish now, if she had to be completely honest with herself. She studied Reed with a tilted head, more doglike than she would've liked but hey, that was just how she was.
"They do," she confirmed, because there was no point in denying it, "I know I'm safe."
Ange was not good at coming off as friendly or anything other than cocky, full of herself, or anything similar to that. Many people had taken a dislike to her because of it and frankly, she couldn't blame them. Then again, this man seemed like he was more interested in what she was rather than who she was, so she doubted he'd be too bothered. Maybe he would be, but that wasn't really her problem (even if she was trying her best to be polite).
"Thought it was west-side, actually," the slender woman replied with ease, pausing to take another long drink from the cocoa. Her eyes were half-closed now, as she relaxed, knowing she was warm and safe and, more importantly, had some decent company for once. "Meant to find a packmate. Ended up finding you. Either way," she moved one hand and made a vague gesture that really, it could've meant anything. "There's a scent this side. Smells safe. Used to come here when I needed to hide, though not this close to the house."
When the rare hunter passed by, looking to end the evil reign of wolves. Though she hadn't really seen any for a year or so, because Westbrooke just wasn't that sort of place. Even if rumours floated about the wolf pack, sightings were dismissed as normal wolves, and so it confused any possible hunters. Then again, they weren't a violent pack. Killings were rare.
"What's your story, huh?" she tilted her head back to look up at him, all ease and sleek confidence. Ange had always been good at keeping a firm place somewhere, had always had a presence. "Why do you know so much?"
[ -reads own post ten minutes later- i have made a grave error and its called "under" instead of "over" LOL ]
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Post by thornshade on May 27, 2017 14:31:05 GMT -5
Ange seemed too confident, too sleek in this human body she now inhabited. It was as if she never wanted to be a wolf in the first place - as if she wanted to stay human for as long as possible. But he'd heard of werewolves who were bitten on purpose: so that they could escape their painful human lives. Reed didn't think that was the case with her; something told him there was more to her story than he could know just by analyzing her mannerisms.
As she tilted her head, studying him, he couldn't feel a little bit warmer inside of himself, knowing that she was curious about why he lived the way he did. She didn't seem to be the most friendly - she was definitely dog-ish, even when she was human - but he figured that was due to the lack of time she spent around normal humans like himself.
Then again, Reed wasn't exactly normal, either. He'd had his fair share of mischief and supernatural experiences.
He was left wondering, after listening to her comment, what "either way" meant. Did it mean she treated him like one of the pack? Or that didn't care anymore for her packmate than she did him? He had no idea what to believe about her. She seemed to pure, but also too dirty, for what he'd imagined a werewolf would be like. He knew the killings from her pack were rare, and rightfully so - they weren't like vampires that relied on fresh blood to keep themselves alive. But something was nagging him about her - she had something to hide, other than her wolfishness. He needed to find out what that something was.
"Well," he began sheepishly as she looked up at him - something inside him twisting delightfully at the intensity of her gaze - "my father was a hunter. Killed your kind and others for the sake of keeping humanity human. I thought I was gonna turn out like him - but then I saw you for what you really were, despite the teachings and myths my father so loved to believe about you. You aren't inhumane, or evil, or mistakes - you're just beautiful creatures who need to live a little differently than a mere, boring human like me. So that' why I know so much, I guess - I learned from my dad, but I just took a different approach to how I view you and your kind."
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Post by Deleted on May 27, 2017 14:42:37 GMT -5
To be honest, a hunter background was the tamest thing she could think of. To a degree, it set her on edge - she had heard of hunters being smart enough to hide themselves - but then again, he didn't seem the type. Even a hiding hunter wouldn't so readily offer a wolf shelter and warmth, would be completely fine with letting the wolf revert forever, unable to become human again. It was what set wolves apart from humans, after all.
She didn't mind being a wolf, but there was always an underlying fear of being a wolf forever. She enjoyed being human as much as she liked being a wolf, loved to watch society go about its business. If she ever became stuck as a wolf, she'd...feel trapped. It wouldn't be fun. Ange had heard that wolves lost their reasons as to why they had ever liked being human, too - but none of her pack had ever stayed after being forced to stay a wolf. They had left, to find more like them. Stuck wolves formed their own pack because they were outsiders even in their own community.
"Mmm," she hummed, closing her eyes and finishing her cocoa before setting it aside. She hopped down from the counter and stretched her arms above her head, removing an ache in her back by doing so. "So you, what? Rebelled?" her smile was not unkind, but it could've been kinder, really, "there's a limit to how much a human can know about a wolf, though."
It wasn't to deny that he knew a lot; she could already tell. It was moreso to let him know that there was always more to learn. As a younger adult, she'd been a little too full of herself in hunts and in fights. She had later learned that there was always ways to improve; even now, where she was confident in how she was, she knew that she could improve. There would always be gaps in her knowledge, things appearing that surprised her. She was just good at hiding her surprise.
"Thanks for the cocoa, by the way," her gaze flicked to the window idly. She couldn't really risk going out at the moment, not with snow beginning to fall. Typical. It would take her a little too long to run to the south side again, to shift, find her clothes, and go to her apartment. All of it would take far too long and so it would force her to be a wolf again. "Guess I'm stuck here for a little while," she mused, though it was impossible to really know if she cared or not. Reed, at least, was interesting. She could definitely keep a conversation with him.
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Post by thornshade on May 29, 2017 4:39:29 GMT -5
Reed could see the gears turning in Ange's head as she reflected on his words. God, this was incredible - a werewolf was in his kitchen and drinking his cocoa and he didn't have to put on an act. He could just be - be the self he had tried so hard to hide from his watchful father's eye. He supposed the fact that he'd kept it a secret for so long only added to his obsession, but that wasn't the point. The point was was that he finally had the chance to interact with a wolf in a real, human way he hadn't had for years.
He had to admit, he found her kind of pretty - and her confidence was alluring. But she wasn't pretty in the gentle-flowery-angel-kind-of-way his exes had been; she was pretty in a rugged sort of way that reminded him of someone who'd spend time gazing at sunsets but could also hurt you if you did her wrong. But he wasn't here - she wasn't here - to get involved in a relationship. He figured this was just a one-time thing.
The curly-haired man returned to reality when she moved down from the counter, setting her mug down with a contented sigh. Her words stung at first - she seemed amused by his declaration, not intimidated or appreciative - but after a moment he figured she didn't mean much by it.
And of course, he knew he didn't know everything about the wolves, as he wasn't one himself. He was more than well aware that she would always know and understand more than he would. He was a myth-chaser, a story-teller, a truth-seeker. But he'd never left the house much to chase the myths that he delved into; he read about them and imagined seeking after them, but he was too broke to afford to chase every whim.
When she spoke again, he was confused as to whether or not she was happy to stay here with him. It was warm, and she wouldn't turn as long as she stayed for the night, and he hoped that pleased her enough. But Reed knew he'd already come off as a freak and had more than probably made her feel like he was more invested in getting to know werewolves than in getting to know her.
"Here," he said, motioning to the couch just beside the hearth, with a blanket slung over the side, taking a seat on the old faux leather. "Sit. Let's talk for a bit, eh?" he paused, taking another long look at her. "Tell me this, Ange: where did you get that scar on your lip?"
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Post by Deleted on May 29, 2017 5:13:31 GMT -5
Reed was...interesting.
She was, she supposed, a curious person by nature; but the way this man talked about wolves and how he seemed to have rebelled against his father's wishes (or something similar), it was interesting. Unheard of. Hunters bred other hunters; she'd always been taught that by the pack, had always been forced into believing it. Seeing someone who so clearly contradicted her pack's beliefs, it was mildly unnerving.
Ange absently ran her fingers through her hair, untangling some of the wave before she tossed it over her shoulder. She glanced at the couch before she shrugged lightly, settling as if she belonged there - legs tucked underneath her, hands in her lap and head tilted back. She didn't feel unsafe here. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was safe, and though her scenting was not as sharp as it had been in wolf form, she could still pick up a hint of what she had always been able to keep track of in the forest. It had to be a strong scent, though she wasn't quite sure where it was coming from. Definitely this house - or around it. Perhaps it was even Reed, himself? It was possible.
The mention of her scar caused her to blink, and she absently ran her thumb over her lower lip.
"Fight, I think," she shrugged, "I'm the Beta. We fight sometimes for positions. I can't really remember, but I'm going to assume that I didn't shift in time. It happens."
Her gaze was focused intently on the human, eyes narrowed as she studied him. Frankly, he wasn't impressive; but he was certainly interesting, and that was more important than her than some silly show of strength.
"I still don't get why you don't just hunt us," she made a vague gesture, trying to convey her point. Ange must've realised it wasn't working, because she dropped her hands back to her lap and raised a single eyebrow for what felt like the umpteenth time that day, "sometimes we attack humans, y'know? We're not soft and cuddly."
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Post by thornshade on May 30, 2017 9:49:09 GMT -5
Reed was surprised to see she actually sat down beside him. Perhaps the gesture of kindness had been effective. Now all he had to do was break down the 20 million stone walls she had put up to guard herself. But he knew she was justified in doing so; she had secrets to guard from mere humans like himself. God, I should stop thinking of her as a god, he chided himself, she's almost as human as you are, dude.
Her long, dark hair smelled suddenly of the musk of the woods and the pungent scent of wolf washed over him as she flipped it over herself. He wondered if she always smelled so - half of her spent more than enough time in the woods as a furry, fierce creature - or if he should have offered her a shower. Ange looked so contented, so at ease with herself that he couldn't help and feel he resembled an overexcited nerd, eager to hear a lecture. HE smoothed his hair again as she spoke, his self-consciousness growing as she answered him with ease.
But he felt more stupid than he looked when her gesture went straight over his head. Reed wistfully wished he had better people skills. He could feel her exasperation as she spoke again, clarifying her point.
"Well, I can't just go out and kill you all just because you're werewolves. It'd be like putting all the African-Americans in this town in jail just because one fat white guy decided they put the rest of us at a disadvantage. I know you're not soft and cuddly - I've seen what you can do."
He recoiled as a memory washed over him. His father had taken him hunting one odd day and it had gone a-wall fast. The person they were supposed to protect was mauled instantly and became a wolf themselves, but their human family was not so lucky. The wolf's husband and little girl - only 5 - had been torn to shreds. Blood and teeth and fangs and scarlet pawprints littered the floor.
He shook his curly head as if to clear the unsightly memory. "But - but you aren't all the same. I know you hurt us, but not all of you are responsible for one wolf's actions, even if you're a pack. I can't tell you all apart, anyhow, so I could be ending you the next time I go out there instead of the one who actually committed the crime. And, besides, no one in this place has died from wolves since I was a little boy. I think we've had more issues with vampires as of late, if my suspicions are totally right," he trailed, then let out a little chuckle. "Sorry. You must think I'm nuts, eh?"
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Post by Deleted on May 30, 2017 10:38:26 GMT -5
She opened her mouth, briefly, before she closed it again and shook her head. It was best not to get into that sort of thing, she supposed. Drawing a slow breath through her nose and exhaling through her mouth, Ange considered the human before her. He was...she had to think that he was naive, having so much faith despite her answers, still believing that wolves were not as bad as the hunters claimed them to be. She didn't know, really - were they that bad? She'd never noticed anything that followed along with the exaggerations, but she was biased. Always had been.
Reed's words caused her to frown a little, her gaze shifted to the other side of the room, and she just...considered what was being said. It was often that she forgot that humans didn't have a sharp sense of smell, couldn't tell each-other apart from scent alone - because she had to be honest, her eyesight wasn't the best. Her glasses often sat in her home, completely unused because she was stubborn as a bull and besides, who needed glasses when they were a wolf? They'd just get damaged. She scratched her jaw and, finally, returned her gaze to the man.
"Vampires are always causing trouble," she sounded rather annoyed at the mere mention of them. "Trying to take over our territory, killing when they don't need that much blood," her inhalation, this time, was sharp and audible. She shifted her weight where she sat and glanced absently around the room, trying to find something to distract herself from the thought of the vampires. "They're vermin, and they never learn their lesson."
Her jaw, she realised, was clenched. It took her a few moments to stop her rage, rein it in as years of practice had taught her. She eventually sighed and crossed her arms, looking away from Reed.
"I don't think you're nuts," Ange all but grumbled. She was supposed to be more dignified than this, and yet her rage had always been a terrible thing. "I'd just rather that you didn't bring up them. Tell me what else you know about us, or what you've learned about us. Maybe I can disprove theories or something."
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Post by thornshade on May 30, 2017 11:32:04 GMT -5
Reed could feel the discomfort rolling off Ange in tidal waves from his position across from her on the couch. Her jaw tight, brows furrowed - he could sense the unease the blood-suckers gave her just from the mere mention of their kind. He wondered what the story was - had one hunt gone astray? Perhaps a vampire had claimed someone close to her? He couldn't be sure, and besides, he didn't want to bug her about it. She seemed too disturbed by them to have a productive conversation about it.
As he reflected on what he knew to be true about the blood-thirsty creatures, though, it was easy to see why she wouldn't want to talk about them. The new vampires that were coming to live in Westbrooke were more vicious than ones he seen on hunting trips with his father; they wanted complete control over the area. But he couldn't afford them that; he'd begun using charms and old trick to warn them to keep away from his property. And they were working, too: he hadn't seen one for a few weeks.
Reed took a breath and then responded. "I'm down. For one thing, I know you change with temperature drops - but that means you don't always have complete control over your shift. And I know you don't keep your heightened senses, even though the wolf is still inside you. Clear this up for me, though - do you get ill when you're first bitten? Like a flu, because your body doesn't know how to deal with the wolf that's been planted inside you?"
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Post by Deleted on May 30, 2017 12:47:58 GMT -5
Of all the questions to be asked, Ange was...not quite surprised, but a little taken off-guard that it had been that question of all of them. She listened idly and then gave a small shrug.
"First of all, you're right about the first two things, to a degree. If the temperature is stable, then we have complete control; and while we don't keep our heightened senses, we're more in-tune than humans," she cleared her throat and crossed her arms. "It depends. I think. I've seen people get sick, I've seen people be completely fine - I don't. I don't really know, because I don't remember when or how I was bitten. I don't even know who bit me or if they're still around or what. I think it was a loner or something but still, no-one knows."
She had just turned up one day, a lost, alone wolf. She didn't recall the week of the events, had apparently been in and out of a daze. Someone from her pack had taken care of her, had ensured that she had been okay; and yet Ange couldn't recall any of this. She didn't know why, had never heard of an instance in which a wolf didn't remember who bit them or when. Until that point, she had never doubted her memory; but what ifs ran in her mind - what if her memory wasn't as good as it was supposed to be, what if something had gone wrong when she had been bitten. she just...didn't know.
"Why is this place safe?" she asked after a couple of seconds, "the scent of it when I was a wolf - it was overwhelming. When it started snowing, it didn't even occur to me that this wasn't pack land."
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Post by thornshade on Jun 5, 2017 2:43:05 GMT -5
(heyyy so I'm about to go to an honors program and will be absent from the forums until the beginning of July so this will be my last post for a while I but when it's all finished I'd still be down to keep this rp going with you ![:)](//storage.proboards.com/6575102/images/lNtnPuxeCzkaKMNYVXVv.gif) ) ) Reed was pleased to discover that he did indeed know a thing or two about the werewolves he had obsessed about for years. He'd more or less gotten the gist of what made wolves like Ange change and that filled him with pleasure. He mightn't be an expert but he knew his way around the supernatural world. He was puzzled, however, to hear that she didn't know how she'd been bitten. All the lore and books he'd read and researched told him that almost all wolves could recall when they were bitten - some could even remember whom first made them turn. But maybe she was the exception? Dang, this was getting interesting. Ange was, even without being part wolf, one of the most intriguing people he'd met in a long while. She was strong and beautiful and dogish and brash and bold and knew would she stood for and couldn't care less about what he thought of her. And that was not to mention how good she looked in his too-big sweater. But he couldn't get ahead of himself. This was one night. One chance to interact with her. She would stay the night, then flee in the morning once the snow had gone and it was safe for her to return to her pack. Part of him wished she'd stay. The other half knew it was better if she left: because he'd keep falling and she'd stay as aloof and mysterious and untouchable as ever. "Well, I can't give away all my secrets," he said, beginning his response with a smirk, "but let's just say I know what draws your kind in. Certain oils and scents are irresistible to you and put you all at ease. I didn't mean to trick you, love, but all the same - I want to keep your kind safe. And I need to smell like someone you can trust before you'd let me help you." And I can't have those vampires coming after you all, either, he thought, though kept it to himself as to not provoke Ange's rage once again.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 5, 2017 10:52:41 GMT -5
[ finger guns - sounds good man. i'll be around for a long while so just, whenever ur back (': i should be around no worries there ]
It was somewhat frustrating; wondering, idly, if she was just being used here as research material (she didn't mind too much), and then thinking on being bitten. Most had assumed that her lip was a result of being bitten, but it wasn't. She was under the assumption that the massive scar over her inner thigh was the result, but she wasn't sure. Maybe it had been from a fight that she couldn't recall - her memory hazed in some parts from years and years ago. She knew she'd been a wolf for a long time, but she was also aware that she wasn't a born-wolf.
Ah, well.
"That's fair. Suppose it covers my tracks, too," Ange mused idly, crossing and uncrossing her ankles as she tried to make herself comfortable again, having tensed without realising it. Her gaze tracked slowly through the room for the umpteenth time, tongue swiping over her lower lip without much of a thought. "Clever as hell, though."
Partially referring the vampires, partially referring to whatever else could lay within the territory. It was outside wolf territory, it wasn't something she was familiar with. Ideally, she would've noticed the scent markers at the end of her own territory, but the idea of being safe had appealed far too much. She'd never wandered this far before, had never felt the need to. To be completely honest, she had only been this side because she had been hunting. She'd caught the blasted fawn, had eaten her fill as a wolf; and then it had snowed, and she'd had to find shelter. This guy was useful, and she supposed he knew it.
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Post by thornshade on Jul 11, 2017 19:07:41 GMT -5
(guess who's back?!? ![:)](//storage.proboards.com/6575102/images/lNtnPuxeCzkaKMNYVXVv.gif) I just re-read this rp for the first time and oml it's getting good I'm psyched to keep this up now) "And you'd better believe it, love - I'm far smarter than I look," he grinned doggishly down at her as she shifted on his couch. He took a breath before continuing on, feeling the heat on his cheeks fleeing. He hoped she knew she was more than a science experiment to him now, now that he could talk with her as an equal. She was not a god. She was just a beautiful human, albeit a few scars on her tanned skin and the scent of wolf - the scent of her - that ran loops around his head. He figured making her an offer of discovery would be kind enough to end her troubled musing about her turning. It was the least he could do for someone like her, really. And it wouldn't be that expensive, or that long of a trip. He could handle it, if Ange accepted. "I can - I can tell that it bothers you, not knowing," he began, eluding to her missing memories about her turning, "I bet I could figure out who turned you and when, if you really wanted to know. We'd just have to chase down a couple things or two, if the offer appeals to you. If not, don't sweat it. Just a thought that might soothe you." He watched her carefully, then, waiting to see how to she'd respond - in his head, she'd either act as if he hadn't offered anything at all, or she'd actually show some emotion that went beyond cockiness or aloofness. But Ange was unpredictable - and he liked that. It made something inside the pit of his stomach twist with delight. He hoped she'd stay longer than the night - he felt like she belonged here, in his house, on his couch, drinking his cocoa and looking to damn good in his clothes. But he wouldn't push her - she wasn't a science experiment. She was part human, after all.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 11, 2017 19:36:47 GMT -5
[ HEYYY welcome home (': i'm p hype for it too man, it'll be nice gettin back into ange's muse ]
As she listened, Ange combed her fingers through her hair to untangle it, wincing a little at the pull. The mention of her memories made her raise a single eyebrow, but she didn't pause in her motions - instead choosing to push her hair back from her face before shaking it out again. Well, at least that mess was dealt with; she could probably push for a shower in the morning, since she didn't think she was too bad at the moment. Roaming around the woodlands meant that she had ended up taking on an earthy scent, or so she'd been told. Wolfish, too, but that was only to be expected.
"Mmm," she hummed softly, tilting her head to lean against the back of the couch. She studied Reed through half-closed eyes, her movements now lazy and slow. She was not threatened here - if anything, she was just as safe as with a packmate or in her own home. It made it easy to relax, which, in turn, made her sleepier. "Sure, why not? Could be fun."
It had to be more interesting than her day to day routine, and it did bother her that she didn't know whom had turned her - though she decided not to voice that part out loud. Maybe it would be like a journey of self-discovery - finding out who she was, and all that jazz. Maybe she'd feel more at peace, or something.
"So, what's it gonna be? A roadtrip or something?" she was not going to admit that she was curious (but she definitely was). Reed was a strange human with even stranger ideas, but she had to say that this one wasn't half-bad.
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Post by thornshade on Jul 11, 2017 19:56:11 GMT -5
(it's good to be back ![;)](//storage.proboards.com/6575102/images/K_aktz7ovAHLNjZqbiem.gif) also sorry it's so short lol) Reed brightened at her at willingness (and he assumed her curiosity, though he knew she'd hate to admit it). "Well," he started, "a roadtrip would do the trick. I'd just have to pick up a few things and we'd have to rely on your earliest memories. Before you turned, after you turned, whatever you remember - anything is helpful to me - so I can mix the right things together in my little magic potion. There's one trick, though - you'd have to be able to stay human for long enough to stay with me. I don't exactly have enough cash to go renting out a hotel with heating every place we stop. I mean, I do have some cash, but not enough. If we're going to do this, you have to make sure you can keep control over your shift. Not that I doubt you or anything," though maybe I should, he thought, "but I've seen what you can do. You're not this cuddly - or this sleepy - all the time." His eyes met her fluttering ones and he let out a gentle sigh. "You look exhausted, Ange. We can talk about this in the morning, if you'd prefer. Why don't you shower while I fix the bed for you upstairs, hmm?" Reed offered, slowly rising up from his position on the couch.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 12, 2017 6:45:20 GMT -5
[ (': don't sweat it man ]
"Sounds good to me," Ange found herself picking at her nails absently, and managed to stop the motion and rest her hands on her lap, instead. She studied Reed's face cautiously, before nodding. "I can control my shift - I'm pretty good at it, too," she had just been caught off-guard, this time. She usually wore clothes that kept her warm enough to be able to do her own thing when it was cold, but apparently, today had just been aiming to drive her into situations she wasn't used to.
At the mention of a shower plus bed, she raised both eyebrows and considered it for a moment.
"Yeah," she said, swinging her legs down from the couch and stretching both her arms and her legs in a lazy manner. "Talking about it in the morning would be much appreciated, and same for the shower. I am not usually this messy," she offered a lopsided grin.
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Post by thornshade on Jul 12, 2017 8:24:04 GMT -5
"Sure thing, love," he grinned, then motioned for her to follow him upstairs to his bedroom. The black walls had been decorated with prints of famous paintings and there was a large desk covered in stacks of files and littered with books. The queen-sized bed was made, surprisingly - he was lucky he remembered this morning - and stood in the corner of the room, flush against a window which was kept tightly closed. His bedroom, he supposed, spoke of someone chaotic and dark, but he didn't mind the mess. It made more sense to him, really, to have a little bit of chaos somewhere in his otherwise well-organized life. It made him feel more human - at least, more human than he'd been before his accident. He hoped the bathroom attached to the bedroom was a little cleaner than the room, but he couldn't be sure. He didn't think he'd shaved this morning, anyway. His eyes flickered behind him, looking to meet Ange's dark blue-green pair. "Make yourself at home. I'll be downstairs if you need anything - there should be some towels in the bathroom across the hall for your shower tomorrow," he told the werewolf.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 12, 2017 8:31:03 GMT -5
[ yoo you mind if i do a timeskip <: ]
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Post by thornshade on Jul 12, 2017 8:34:51 GMT -5
(not at all!)
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Post by Deleted on Jul 12, 2017 8:48:36 GMT -5
[ nice nice <: ]
After thanking Reed, Ange found that she was even more tired than she had originally thought - and so she was quicker than usual to fall asleep.
When morning came around, she showered (as she had said she would), and found that yep, there were towels. She didn't feel too great considering she was in a strange place, but she could stop by home soon to get her own clothes and so on. She dried her hair to the best of her ability before changing back to the sweats and the sweater she was borrowing, and felt a little better for doing it.
She didn't care particularly much for if she was presentable or not (who was, with damp hair and clothes far too big for them?), and so she padded downstairs lightly, glad that the house itself seemed simple to navigate. She took a moment before she entered the living area and perched on the arm of the couch idly, as if she belonged. It was easy to stay calm and confident in the home of a human - even more when he knew exactly what she was. She wasn't relaxed, but she sure as hell felt better than she had the previous night.
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Post by thornshade on Jul 12, 2017 11:05:30 GMT -5
Reed had slept (rather comfortably, actually) on the couch downstairs, since he'd let Ange take his bed. She was glad she took the offer without a fight; he wouldn't have had the patience to argue with her yesterday evening. He'd woken before his guest had made her way downstairs and took the clean clothes in his laundry room and slipped into them so he wouldn't smell like he'd been wearing the same clothes for four-plus days in a row.
The curly-haired, stubble-jawed young man then turned his attention to breakfast, trying to as quietly as possible cook some bacon to eat with his toast and soon-to-be brewed coffee. He was surprised to see Ange making her way into the kitchen without a sound, settling herself onto the arm of the couch. He turned and grinned at her. "Morning, love. Did you sleep okay? I'm, uh, making some coffee and bacon here - would you like some? I can make you an egg, too, if that's more your style," he rambled, habitually running his fingers through his dark curls.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 12, 2017 11:25:51 GMT -5
Ange tilted her head to watch him for a moment, then considered his offer quietly. She drummed her fingers lightly against the side of her thigh.
"Sure," she said, after a couple of moments, "bacon and coffee sounds good - I slept pretty well, thank you. I appreciate this," she moved her hand in a vague gesture. "Helping me out, I mean," somehow, she doubted she needed to elaborate - but she did anyway. Ange flicked her gaze away and instead took in the rest of the kitchen. This was a nice place - it had a homely atmosphere to it, and it had saved her from being forced to stay as a wolf forever. Win-win situation. In hindsight, it had probably been more dangerous than she had considered when she'd first come across here, but desperation meant that she'd taken it. She was just lucky that Reed was a decent person.
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Post by thornshade on Jul 12, 2017 11:40:14 GMT -5
Everything about Ange was quiet, Reed had decided, except for her stubbornness and her confidence, which filled the room more than any words she would speak. He smiled at her and told her it wasn't a problem to let her stay the night, then shuffled quietly as he readied the coffee and the bacon. The scent of the two wafted through the air and made his stomach growl hungrily as he set the heaping plate down on the kitchen table.
"Here, come eat," he beckoned to the long-haired woman, motioning to the chair at the edge of the round wooden table. He deftly grabbed some plates from the top of his cabinets and set them out on the table. After a second thought, he remember the coffee, and grabbed his own - he liked it black - and poured it out of the carafe.
"How do you like your coffee? Milk? Sugar? Creamer?" he asked, his eyes flickering towards Ange once again.
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