Bad Moon Rising

[wolfmarked]

There's a bad moon rising
Newham, September 28th, night

In Munster -- and, to her knowledge, all of Ireland -- the packs served as law enforcement for the people. Where the police failed, the families didn't. Most never even knew they were being protected by werewolves. Of course, there were certain expectations. Money, loyalty, silence when the police started poking around where they weren't welcome. None of it really legal, but that had never bothered Skip, especially after she was forced to go home and not dance.

So, well. She knew people. Her father and brothers knew people, actually. Especially Owen, her oldest brother. He'd put her in contact with a friend of a friend, and she had a lovely pistol with a silencer and no discernable serial number on it.

Her aunt and two neighbours were inside. They'd wanted her to join them, locked in the basement, but she'd refused. After all, she smelled like a human to vampires. If there was a strike, they wouldn't have any interest in her. Well, that wasn't true. But someone had to keep watch, and she was used to being 'normal.'

"Don' take another fuckin' step." She snapped the words when she saw movement across the street, just outside the streetlight. "Who's there?"

I see earthquakes and lightnin'
Jolly Roger, early September, evening

And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate

Skip moved to the music as she cleared off the table nearest to her, sweeping the debris left by messy customers into her bin before she put in the dirty glasses. With a flourish and a sway of her hips, she wiped the table down then disappeared to get rid of her current weight and return with a tray of food and drink,

Two glasses there, a plate here, and another turn.

In a good mood? Her? Well, it certainly would seem so. A better mood, at least, than her usual smiles and sarcasm. If anything, she actually looks about ready to start laughing at a secret joke. And her mood is constant whether she's in the back room or up front.

"Another one, doll?" She asks the question as she takes up the empty glass.

Well, don't go 'round tonight
North Pole, early September, night

The North Pole is one of the finest clubs in London as far as Skip is concerned. The lights are right, and the music is good, and she is in Heaven. Or, at least, as close as she's getting to it.

Dressed in black jeans that look almost painted on and a top that shines like liquid gold when she moves under the flashing lights, Skip thinks she looks very good.

She almost always has a drink in hand. Nothing that comes her way, especially paid for by someone else, is turned away as long as she gets it from either the bartender or waitress. And she never seems to be dancing with the same man twice, even within the same song. She moves between individuals and groups, no hint of shyness t her at all.

When she's at a table, she always turns to face outward with the chair nearest her pushed out a bit, as if in invitation for company.

She also frequents the bar, leaning against it to order herself a drink when she doesn't have one bought for her by someone else.

I know the end is coming soon
Southwark, mid September, day

The end of September brings not only the Blood Moon but the beginning of the school year, so Skip spends a few days refreshing her memory on Southwark. It was one of the first places she went when she came here. She makes her way from the school to the various methods of public transport she'll need.

There are also businesses to stop in on. Places for lunch or coffee. Best to get in good with the staff now than wait until she actually wants something and is in a hurry. Establishing a rapport first? Can save a lot of time later.

"What do you suggest?" she asks a fellow patron at one of the places, considering the posted menu.

I hear the voice of rage and ruin
Greenwich, late September, day and night

The Blood Moon is in the past.

People have died. To her understanding, they aren't part of her pack, but she still feels a kind of kinship with them. Especially since some of them could have been like her. Marked as werewolves but still actually human. She doubts the vampires cared. After all, even those who hadn't activated their curse could still give birth to others.

She stops into a few wakes. The press has been told it was a church massacre.

Every family she visits gets a few flowers. She introduces herself, gives her birth pack and her London one, and she is embraced as a cousin. She listens to the memories, hears the stories, and asks for a photograph of the deceased. Often, she gets one.

She doesn't lie to them. The pictures are going to be incorporated into a painting she's working on. A painting that needs to be done.

"Crap!" She gives the cry as she takes a turn without looking, immersed in reviewing the pictures she's collected. Her shoulder has clipped someone else's, and her folder was upset. The pictures have scattered. The idea of an apology slips her mind. "Shit! Can you-- don't let that one blow away! Grab it!"

Comments

[constantprisoner]

[There's a bad moon rising]

If there's one thing Sirius has learned about being a fugitive, it's that it's almost impossible not to be suspicious. He's honestly been trying his best not to be, but it's really hard when you're trying to remain unnoticed.

He freezes the instant he hears the voice, before looking into the darkness to see who spoke.

"No one," he answers, "Or rather, nobody of consequence."

[I hear the voice of rage and ruin]

Sirius has been laying low since the Blood Moon, sticking to quieter places and trying to stay out of trouble. He doesn't like what he hears and hates that he can't do anything about it (or check up on anyone since he doesn't know where to look).

Even so, he has to venture out eventually, even if it is for fresh air. He can't stand being in one spot for too long.

He's not paying attention when his shoulder's clipped and there's pictures everywhere. He reacts quickly, grabbing two before he hits the ground and stepping on a third so it doesn't blow away. Not the best recovery but he tried. He bends down to pick up the picture and at least try to clean it up.

"Sorry about that."

[Ooc: So I couldn't decide between two prompts. Feel free to pick one, or I can start another. Sorry.]

There's a bad moon rising

[wolfmarked]

The voice came from the porch across the street, and a moment or two was all it took for her to turn on the porch light. She still had the gun up and ready. After all, tonight was a dangerous night for her and her family.

"What're you doin' here?"

[constantprisoner]

Sirius blinks in the suddenness of the light, before taking an involuntary step back at the sight of the gun. He attempts to make himself look less suspicious.

"Just, taking a walk, that's all. Really," he says, a slight pleading note in his voice. "Didn't mean to cause a disturbance."

[wolfmarked]

It's not like she can explain to a stranger why she's standing on her porch in the middle of the night with a handgun. After all, there is that whole secrecy thing.

"Pretty late for a walk," she says, but, at the very least, she's not raising the gun.

[constantprisoner]

Not raising the gun is generally a good sign in Sirius's book and he relaxes a little. Not much, but his heart isn't pounding as much as it was.

"True, but I prefer the night air," He replies. Better than his actual reason of not having much of a choice and looking for a place to spend the night. "I'm assuming the same for you?"

[wolfmarked]

"I'm not walkin' the street."

Never mind that she was still out at this hour. There was totally a difference between being on her porch and walking around.

"If you're not here to make trouble, you aren't gettin' hurt. Simple as that."

I hear the voice of rage and ruin

[wolfmarked]

"Long as it didn' get away-- doesn' matter. Just gonna rough it up a little anyway." Because, well, pristine photographs didn't go well with the theme she was planning for her work. "Thanks for grabbin' it."

Then, she actually notices who it is.

"I remember you. Holdin' up okay?"


(Because why not. We can do the Blood Moon one first then move on to this, if you'd like!)

[constantprisoner]

"No problem," Sirius replies automatically, before the recognition sets in.

"Oh yeah, the girl with the gun. I'm doing alright. You seem to have made it through as well."

It's a slightly more friendlier atmosphere, being on the street in daylight.

[wolfmarked]

"Skip," she says with a small smile. That night... Well. It was the Blood Moon. And that was... entirely different than anything else she'd been through.

"Sorry 'bout that. It was... kinda nuts."

[constantprisoner]

"Sirius," He replies, returning the smile and offering a hand.

"It's fine. I'm hoping that everything turned out alright." He would say he's had worse, but Skip's gun was actually the first one pointed at him since his return. But he was willing to overlook it since things had managed to calm themselves.

[wolfmarked]

"Yeah. Everything... It's okay. We're all safe."

Her family, the pack within the territory... Everything was as good as it could hope to be. Not wonderful, but. The people she most cared about were alive.

Now, she just had to mourn those lost.

"Still, didn't stop everything."

There's a bad moon rising

[falsify]

One thing a guy doesn't expect on a walk through London is being held up at gunpoint. (Thougb it is East London, so maybe he shouldn't be surprised.) Eames puts his hands up, not particularly wanting to get shot today, but even at gunpoint he's not great at taking orders.

Almost daring her to shoot him, Eames takes a step out into the road towards his new friend with a raised eyebrow. "You often threaten people for walking down the street, or am I just really lucky?"

[wolfmarked]

"I threaten people who get too close t' my home." When it's the Blood Moon. Otherwise, she doesn't worry about it. But she has family -- a little biological, a few just pack -- inside, and she isn't letting any of them get hurt. "'Specially this late at night."

[falsify]

Well, isn't this a pickle. Eames keeps moving towards her, crossing the street with his hands still raised. Not intending to be at all threatening, he just doesn't like to have these kinds of conversations at a distance - something smells off here, could be anything, but he'd quite like to know what 'anything' is.

He casts a glance over his shoulder and drops his voice a little before he speaks. Wouldn't want to draw any undue attention. "Maybe you shouldn't be living in the city if that's such a big worry."

[wolfmarked]

"Jus' keep movin', fucker," Skip said, eyes narrowed. "You wanna be an asshole? Great. Fine. Jus' do it somewhere else."

At least tonight. Then, she could get rid of the gun and not stand guard outside her own home. If she was back in Munster, there'd be better safeguards. Whoever was in charge here...

She was going to give them an earful eventually.

[falsify]

He laughs harshly, gesturing to himself and then to her with little consideration for the gun in her hand anymore. "Oh, I'm the arsehole here?" Even as he starts, part of him thinks maybe he shouldn't antagonise the woman with a gun. Unfortunately for everyone, Eames is kind of hard to stop once he's started being a dickhead about something. "I'm not the one waving a gun at people for daring to walk down the street."

[youronlylaw]

Well don't go round tonight

It would be dramatic to say he'd been forced against his will to go out tonight. But he had been basically kidnapped by his coworkers. Admittedly he had told them they would a week ago - but so much could change in a week! By the time they had all wanted to go out, James had gotten busier. But did they take 'no' for an answer? Noooo, of course not.

He was standing at the bar in his full suit, determined to make this miserable for all of them - but also determined to at least have something to drink to make up for it.

By the time he took off his coat, he was much more into the idea of spending his evening here than he had been before.

After being encouraged onto the dance floor in a large and desperate to get laid crowd, James made it back to the bar to cool off when he recognized the girl next to him.

It was Skip.

He tried not to make it seem obvious that he knew who she was and waited a few seconds (which he counted) before turning to her and saying just above the volume of the music:

"What'll you have?"


Blood Moon

In the first ten minutes of the eclipse, a rapid and heavy knocking pounded against Skip's basement flat door.

"Skip! Skip are you there?!"

James was sort of thankful that with this eclipse, he wasn't losing his mind at least. That was all he needed, but thankfully when this eclipse happened it nerfed everything.

He had forgotten what it was like to be human.

Well don't go 'round tonight

[wolfmarked]

"Cosmo," Skip replies, half to him and half to the waiting bartender. The grin on her face and the way she sways to the music thrumming only highlights that she is drunk and not bothering to fight it. Because fuck everything else. Tonight is a night out for a single girl who needs to chill. And get laid because she hasn't in, like, almost three months. Totally unacceptable.

Then, she recognises him.

"What're you? A stalker? Turn the GPS on my phone?"

But it's said with a laugh.

[youronlylaw]

He has to laugh because that's what a normal person would do. His brow furrows as he considers the accusation with a slow start.

"I think a stalker would have thought this out a little better."

As if it would explain everything, James gestures down to his clothing with a grimace.

"Didn't exactly think I'd be clubbing tonight."

[wolfmarked]

Skip looks him over, and the laugh says that he answered correctly. Because, well. He definitely doesn't look the part.

"You look so fucking stiff," she replies, "and not in a good way. C'mere."

Not that she gives him the chance to obey. Instead, she's all but slid closer to him. Her fingers loosen then undo the knot of his tie with practised ease, and she pulls it off to one side. Before promptly letting it hang on either side of her neck. Then, she unbuttons the first two buttons of his shirt and pushes the fabric a little to the sides.

A bit grabby with a relative stranger? Definitely.

But she's feeling good, has had plenty to drink, wants to be forward, and has already accepted a phone from him.

[youronlylaw]

Skip shocks a laugh from him as she tugs at his tie easily. Her scent all but overwhelms him in the overwhelming stimulation of the club. She stands out among everything.

When she touches his skin, James takes in a sharp breath - he hasn't stopped watching her since she tugged his tie into her hands and smiles crookedly once she steps back to examine her work.

"Is that better?"

Blood Moon

[wolfmarked]

"What the fuckin' hell-- No. No. Jus' go t' the laundry room an' lock yourselves in. Don' fuckin' come out 'til the alarm goes off, okay?"

Skip herded her aunt, another aunt, and the second aunt's two kids into the wholly protected room. There were no windows, and all the lights of the house were off. The aunt whose house it was had her car parked a few blocks away at a friend's house. Totally human, so he had no idea what was going on, but he was willing to entertain the slightly weird request of her niece. The other family members had been picked up.

For all intents and purposes, it looked like no one was home. Like they, if someone knew what they were, sought shelter somewhere else.

It was stupid to answer the door at all. Because she fucking knew that voice. At the bar, the phone, at the club, even coming back to her place. It could have all been some fucking ploy to get to her or her family tonight. Which was why she grabbed her pistol and unlocked the door, leaving the chain in it. Sure, James was a big enough guy that he could probably break it pretty easily, but it gave her a few extra seconds.

She made no secret of the gun once the door was open against the chain.

"What the fuck do you want? Who the fuck are you?"

Because him being here. tonight. right now. There was no way that was just some fucking coincidence.

[youronlylaw]

"Woah!"

James' hands go up the instant he sees the gun and his face pales considerably. He didn't have a problem with guns persay, but he did have a problem with one being pointed at him.

"Jesus, Skip put it down! Your father told me to check on you!"

It all comes out in a quick jumble of words, probably the least polished he's ever sounded.

[wolfmarked]

"What the fuck--"

The words startle her enough that she doesn't immediately slam the door in his face. But... That...

"How th' fuck you know me da?"

There's no attempt to sound anything but Irish mob. Because, well, this is her family and not the time to fuck around about anything. But hearing her father mentioned... That was... weird.

[youronlylaw]

That's a good question. How does he know her father? Clearly he can't tell her the truth, she'd probably shoot him on principle alone. It's not like that'd be out of character for her from what her father told him of her. Still, he can't just say nothing. He has to tell her something...

A grain of truth in every lie, right?

"Defense attorney? He contacted me. I don't know him at all."

It would have to do. There was no taking it back now.

"Wasn't about to say no to the Munster Alpha though."

There's an unsaid 'that would be suicidal' there. Skip has to know what her father's about.

"Can you please put the gun down?"

James' eyes have kept flicking down towards it as if he would need to leap out of the way at any second. He was very human tonight; getting hurt might mean getting dead moreso than usual.