I'm fairly local; I've been around (OPEN)

[viduation]

A. DAY:

[ creature of the night he may be, Derek's life is far from nocturnal. admittedly, this is partially because he sleeps less than he probably ought to, especially these days. however, it's also because even in London, there are places that aren't 24/7. yet. a bank. a decent mechanic. somewhere that sells smores flavoured pop tarts. combined with his own restlessness, and a sense that he still doesn't quite belong, Derek is unable to hang around at the den all day.

when he's out, he's watchful. even on the streets of the city centre, Derek has come to learn that he can't afford to overlook anything. perhaps it's an inhuman kind of scent that has his gaze catching, lingering, or perhaps a face he recognizes from the Redbright ball has him staring in heavy, curious scrutiny. maybe he simply has to squeeze past the same PETA collector on the street, muttering something about no goddamn escape. ]

B. NIGHT:

[ after the sun sets, Derek retreats to his own territory. generally speaking, he's not looking for a fight, and lurking around other areas of London at night is sometimes as much a provocation as is necessary. he keeps to the east end, hemming along every county line like a sentry, watching - waiting, maybe - for any suggestion that things are not as they should be on his turf. his. he'd never considered it in those terms when he'd been following Laura's lead, when there had been another alpha running things. aside from an inherent wolfish sense of territory, he'd felt little investment. now, his position has changed, but the disconnect here lingers. in the wake of his own hasty decision making, he still feels like he's standing in. that only makes him all the more tense.

and all the more eager to work. he covers a surprising amount of distance on foot, keeps his ear to the ground to keep track of what's going on. maybe it's quiet. maybe it's not. but he stays out late.

if, on his unofficial patrol, he comes across something or someone that seems like they shouldn't be here - well, Derek follows. ]

C. CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE!

( catch all! feel free to tag in with your own starter - just give me a heads up if you're looking for anything in particular - or let me know if you'd like a specific heading! 8] )

Comments

EREN.

[viduation]

[ as they head down and down flights of stairs, the head further and further away from the top floors, where wide windows would later spill moonlight across the floor. without the telltale silver illuminating the place, it could feel like the full moon mattered no more to them than it did to anyone else in London. right now, when the outside sky is still dusky and the moon is yet to rise, Derek could almost believe as much. but even his control isn't ironclad.

nor is the - is his pack's, and so he's retreating down with the rest of them. he doesn't need to. the idea of being penned up - in a basement no less, he thinks, and hears Kate laughing - isn't comforting, or remotely pleasant. he could wait upstairs for the night to be over. but this is security and this is solidarity, and Derek knows enough to see both as necessary, even if he counts himself as needing them less. he remembers his mother doing the same, at least, and the memory of her is sound enough to work off.

and besides, they all radiate the same nervous, angry energy right now. maybe there's comfort in that.

he glances over at Eren. ]

Come on. Do I need to get a sign about loitering?

[titanocidal]

I hate the basement...

[Eren quickens his pace as requested but continues to sulk, glaring downwards at the steps as they make their decent. He knows that this monthly routine is necessary, but that doesn't mean he'll ever grow to like it.

For the past two days, there's been a stiffness to his shoulders and a tension to his brow more prominent than what's even normal for his standards. The moon might not be out yet, but if his alpha wasn't around right now to help center him, Eren would have already given in to his rawer, more violent emotions.]

Last time, I almost broke out of the cage, you know. I thought as I got older, I was supposed to get better at handling it, but it's like the opposite is happening.

[viduation]

[ Derek gives him a withering look. ] Yeah? You're not the only one.

[ still, it's good-natured enough that he doesn't follow the sentiment with a shove. he understands too well to be too disparaging, at least in this case. Eren tends to get particularly wound up - Derek's the same. but their other options are non-existent.

instead of arguing, Derek listens. the longer he remains alpha, the more it's beginning to feel like the least that he can do. ]

Are you talking about the shift, or the anger? [ there's a lilt to his voice that might suggest teasing, but Derek is wholly serious. ] You know it's making you stronger.

ARADIA.

[viduation]

[ amongst his list of errands are things like get car mot checked and pick up milk, with an addendum to add soy because apparently even werewolves are vegan sometimes. there's a note for more shirts because he's recently lost a bunch of them to fighting, and then, nestled somewhere between pick up laundry and gas is find medium with a penciled address and a space where ask about dead sister could have been. he'd been reluctant to add anything about this Aradia to the list, reluctant to pursue what sounds like an absolutely frigging stupid idea in the first place.

but, here he is, stalking down the street towards the address. after hearing the suggestion, he'd tried to put it from his mind. it was stupid. this was a whole new level of desperate. but his well of information had run dry, and thinking about the way Laura would laugh at him for all this only pushed him towards going in the end.

that he gets a weird look from someone on his way to Aradia's door does not go unnoticed, but he ignores it stubbornly, and knocks. ]

This took me about five tries fml

[megidoomed]

[ She'd spotted him at the edge of her block, striding with purpose as he weaved through pedestrians and couldn't help but tail him. True, the leather jacket and accompanying bad attitude help one blend in in such a bad part of town, but they also practically scream "I'm interesting, please come bother me" to the world at large. And, well... that's an adventure waiting to happen if she ever saw one.

Interesting can also mean dangerous though, especially in London, and Aradia's careful to keep spectral as they trudge through the suburb. Picking a fight is pointless and the fact that he's headed for her Haunt makes for a far more fascinating topic - the magnetic pull is unmistakable, and only grows worse the closer they get. That would mean he's here for her, then, and there's only really a handful of things that you can get from a dead girl.

But hey. She's bored, Will's at work, and most people got the memo already that the former resident was long gone. It'll be fun to see where this goes. ]

Excuse me sir, but you, uh...

[ The concerned neighbor's interruption dies in his throat, as Aradia slips past and pushes open the door. That's not ominous at all, nooooo... ]

you're a brave soldier tbh I'd have given up

[viduation]

[ well, it's nice that someone reads the leather jacket bad attitude combination as interesting.

Derek's eyes had flicked to the neighbour, unconcerned by whatever they were going to say - purpose whittles down his attention, turns him single-minded. he's here for Aradia, he'll find Aradia. but then he hears the creak - almost theatrically, comically loud - and his gaze snaps back to the door. he needn't have bothered; there's nothing to see. he frowns at the frame and the empty doorway for a few long moments, and then the corner of his mouth quirks.

does this Aradia know Kenzi? because this seems like exactly the kind of stunt Kenzi would pull to set the mood and make people more likely to turn out their pockets to her. hopefully Aradia isn't a hack too.

he's still smirking when he steps inside, but then the cold hits him. like he's walked through a sheet of ice water, he feels the drop in temperature shudder along his body. intent on walking the sudden unease it brings off, he strides further into the apartment.

there's no witch here. ]

B, I told you I'd be here

[eyeforaneye]

[ Sasuke's perfectly familiar with the phrase 'knows just enough to be dangerous' but apparently has little respect for the wisdom and caution it actually carries with it. It's not been long now since he's been introduced to the Underground proper, unaware of the existence of the supernatural until only very recently, and his response to that has been his own private series of investigations into whys and hows.

Which is exactly why he finds himself in this particular district so late at night, playing the part of a casual observer in a pub for some time in order to gather information for himself or potentially to pass it along to other interested parties at Hillingdon, before leaving even later and starting the journey home on his own. He stops at his first sense of being watched, turning on his heel to catch a glimpse of a figure just past the streetlight. ]

... What do you want?

what an ominous subject title

[viduation]

[ it's hard to get a read on exactly who he's dealing with right now, and while that means they might not be a threat - he's no vampire - the uncertainty never fails to get Derek's hackles up. what little he has to go on runs mainly on instinct; Derek thinks meta but can't be convinced. hunter could be just as likely, and there are definitely some of those that smell like fire. he's sure that he's seen him before, but unsure about where.

either way, Derek knows he's been curious, because he's not the only one keeping an eye out tonight. they watch each other from either side of the streetlight. ]

I could ask you the same thing. [ he could leave it at that, but he doesn't. right now, it's better to be direct - and that's always been Derek's preferred method, anyway. ] Looking for something?

those two icons look hilariously similar too

[eyeforaneye]

Yeah, I was. [ And how little trouble he has admitting it, too, trying to work out just who this man is and what he might be after. After all, this territory belongs to--

But even then he can't be sure if he isn't just a regular human, having little skill for discerning the difference. ]

But I didn't have much trouble finding it and I'm on my way. Is that going to be an issue?

B

[detectiveofthewest]

There was definitely something that shouldn't be there. On the rooftop of a building along the inside of the county line was a black-furred fox as big as a dining table. It had six tails, which waved slowly in the night breeze.

Heiji had been lured here by the rooftop garden that someone had set up here. It was really quite nice. With his nose, he poked at a morning glory that had closed for the night.

If only it didn't smell like gross wolf around here...

[viduation]

For a few minutes, Derek simply watches the thing on the roof. From his vantage point lower down, it's hard to define, save that it's big. That's concerning enough in itself. Derek's first thought was shifter, but the longer he looks, the more unsure he becomes. However, it's only after climbing onto a neighbouring roof that he realizes just how off that estimation was. Fae. He has so little experience with their kind, and the ethereal sight of six swaying tails is enough to transfix even him.

Damn. Six tails implies power, he knows that much, though Derek isn't certain how much. Potentially out of his depth but unwilling to back down, he considers. Ultimately, he's hoping to avoid a fight.

Sprinting across the roof, he leaps across to the garden, rolling to a stand.

"What do you want here?"

[detectiveofthewest]

Shit, dude. That was a pretty impressive jump. Heiji turned around, careful not to knock down someone's potted petunias.

"Oh. I was wonderin' when one of you guys would show up. I was just havin' a sniff around the flowers. No law against that, is there?"

Though he didn't make the extra effort to speak in the spooky fox voice this time, Heiji's voice in this form was noticeably different from his human one -- a bit deeper, in fact. But his diction was the same.

A

[whatmatters]

[Ringer is sleep deprived and distracted, having been chasing a newborn vampire around for the last several nights. Her meeting with the older vamp is still lingering on her mind, as is her promise not to hunt the newborn until he kills again. Every night since, she wanders and listens for trouble, waiting for the inevitable. With all that crazy excitement and way too little sleep, it becomes difficult to buckle down and pay attention in class. She has one down and one to go in a couple hours, which allows her the perfect amount of time to go buy some sugar and maybe grab a proper meal.

The girl slips into the small specialty foods shop without fuss, casually browsing. While the casual onlooker would have no clue, a particularly observant person might notice the handgun holstered at the small of her back, hidden beneath shirt, jacket, and backpack. Silver bullets.

She steps up beside the man to browse, oblivious to who or what he is. Ringer can't help but notice the box of Pop-Tarts in his hand.] Are those any good? The Smores.

[viduation]

[ there are certain smells that Derek, knowing as many hunters as he has, has come to memorize. subtle though they are, he recognizes things like metal, like a gun that was fired not so long ago. these things put him on edge, but they also pique his curiosity, make him more likely to talk. Derek's eyes flick sidewards to regard her. she's not watching him, the way he's come to expect from hunters. she's also younger than he'd expect.

it's not enough to make Derek give her the full benefit of the doubt - he is much too cautious for that. but it does make him relax a little. ]

Sure - if you could use a sugar hit.

sorry ringer fails at small talk I should have predicted this

[whatmatters]

Great. [Her lips quirk up at the ends, the smallest hint of a smile. She reaches past him to grab her own box from the shelf, giving him a short nod in acknowledgment of the recommendation.] If I fall asleep in class, I know who to blame.

[It's a lighthearted comment, though said dryly enough that there might be some truth to it. Hard to tell. Ringer slips past him deeper into the shop, seeking out the specific black licorice nibs that she likes, imported from The Netherlands. The guy's attractive, but her admittedly bad attempt at conversation yielded little results and she knows she's not great at small talk. Instead, it seems easier to cut her losses and leave him to continue his day in peace.]

MALIA

[viduation]

( continued from here )

As she approaches, Derek realizes that he has very little plan for how to proceed, for how to speak with her. He has only ever seen her as a coyote, and the effect is jarring - despite knowing that he isn't dealing with a mere animal, it's more difficult than it ought to be to see her as anything else. For a moment, he wonders if he shouldn't crouch down, get on her level. She's not that animal. He can tell. Lingering on her fur are human scents: detergent, soap. She's not a coyote all the time. Just most of it.

Briefly, Derek berates himself for being an idiot, who should have come up with a plan, if not several plans, before closing the distance. As it is, he's woefully unprepared for a potential family reunion. That thought makes his stomach lurch unpleasantly. He could be looking at his cousin now. In the sharp intelligence lurking in those animal eyes, is there some semblance of Peter's old cleverness?

His hands tense, relax. Realizing he's been standing here staring at the shifter for way too long, he rolls his shoulders and resolves himself to do something. That he is nervous doesn't register with him, isn't the type of thing he usually appreciates, but it's nerves that drive him to over-thinking, to questioning.

But she came close. That's a good sign.

In the end, it's the thought of oh my god, do anything that forces him to speak.

"Don't you have better options?"

Hi, cousin.

[tippytoes]

She blinks up at him slowly, sniffing the air around him, ears twitching at the noises of the city surrounding them both. The silence between them is heavy, but surprisingly not awkward, at least for Malia. She can't speak, after all, and he seems taciturn as it is.

When he does, her ears twitch again, and she snorts, rolling her eyes as best as she can in this form. The answer, clearly, is no, not really.

Malia considers, for a moment, changing right then and there, but she's in public and the last thing either of them need is for a constable to happen by a naked teenaged girl and a fully grown adult male at the wrong moment. She doesn't care, and she has the sneaking suspicion Derek wouldn't either, but human law does.

Human law is a pain in the ass. She stands up and shakes herself, trying to think of how to get him to follow her. Her clothes aren't that far off; she'd only just begun the night's hunt for food in the trash bins, and she'd stashed her clothes in an out of the way cardboard box a block over. She finally settles on gently grabbing the hem of his shirt and tugging, letting go and trotting away.

When she gets to the end of the alley, she looks over her shoulder at him, waiting for him to follow.

[viduation]

If nothing else, he can be grateful that his staring match with the coyote is less awkward than he initially feared it would be. The silence drags on, but what else could he expect? She can hardly reply to him verbally - although that roll of her eyes is as convincing as anything that he was understood. Without elaboration, however, he can only wonder at it, at her. Why is she out here? How much time does she spend in this form, that it's all he's ever seen?

Faced with a myriad of questions and precious few answers, what can Derek do but follow? Now that he's committed himself to figuring out the shifter, he has little choice but to go with her, as directed. At least, he's fairly sure that this all amounts to guidance - and that it's not a trap (unlikely, but always possible). There's still a part of him that questions the idea of going after her, like maybe she's not actually signalling for anything and was just trying to taste his shirt, or something.

That doesn't make sense, but neither does a coyote in London.

Derek follows, not too fast - he's not convinced that he won't spook her - but ensuring that she doesn't leave his sight.

B

[emotioneater]

[There's the sound of a motorcycle as it comes roaring up the street. The teenager perched atop of it handles it with ease despite his small stature. He periodically stops and lifts the goggles off of his head. He steps off the bike and puts the kickstand in place. Cooper looks around, eyes and nose both searching for someone that he doesn't find. He looks both disappointed and tired.

Then it's back on the bike. He turns down the next street and repeats the same process. It promises to be a long night for the vampire. So intent is he on his task that he never even realizes how close he's getting to werewolf territory.]

[viduation]

[ when a vampire turns up, it doesn't take long for Derek to catch their scent. they're rare here, after all, what with the unspoken rules that tend to be followed, begrudging though it may be. Derek would like to be nonchalant, but one vampire can mean enough trouble.

he tracks him through the streets, until finally, almost an hour later, he manages to cut him off. it's almost a surprise to see him on a bike, of all things. Derek still tends to expect hearses or carriages or whatever weird, morbid thing Islington are into at the moment.

on the vampire's approach, Derek comes to stand front and center in his path. sure, they could swerve around, but why ignore the invitation? ]

[emotioneater]

[When Cooper firsts sees the figure step out into the middle of the road, his first reaction is to actually speed up. There aren't many people who willingly stay in the path of a motorcycle coming straight for them. When he still doesn't move, Cooper comes to a screeching halt. He swerves the bike sideways, coming up broadside and stopping less than a foot from Derek.

He pushes his goggles up, his Irish accent colored thick with annoyance as he speaks over the rumbling motor.]

D'you mind getting out of my way, you feckin' idiot? I've places t'go 'n people to see.

[He inches the bike forward. Cooper's got no time for this shit.]

C - Moonlight Jewelry y/n?

[kleptofaeniac]

B

[rules_winter]

The night was quiet mostly the sounds of cars in the distance broken only by the occasional car closer to the border between Havering and the East End Pack's territory. A nearby streetlamp flickered and then burnt out dropping the area into a pool of darkness. After a few minutes, almost like a trick of light, one of the plate glass shop windows seemed to take on a luminescence. It rippled into blues and greens starting so dark it was almost impossible to see and then beginning to glow brighter until light shifted through the surface enough to spill out onto the sidewalk below and as it did, frost started forming. Around the edges of the window it crackled downward in lovely bursts and fleurettes, small puddles from an earlier cleaning cracking suddenly into ice. The surface of the glass rippled again and a woman stepped through, gracefully but with an ease that seemed as though people commonly walked through plate glass windows that glowed. As she stepped through the scent of fresh snow spilled out and the air turned suddenly so cold that between the new coldness and the old heat of summer, fog congealed, spilling around her feet. Once she was through the window the colors dimmed and the door closed, slowly resolving itself back into a standard storefront with mannequins in the window and safety lights behind it.

Her gaze was almost eerie, eyes lambent in the darkness, the pale skin almost seemed to glow as well. She smoothed her hands down what seemed to be a sort of evening gown that looked off in this quiet part of town where no apparent galas were occurring. It looked odd as well because it was difficult to tell where dress and long hair ended and fog began. If the fact that she seemed out of place bothered her you wouldn't be able to tell it, instead she spent a moment taking in the area, breathing in once but rather than relying on a sense of smell (and really what good could that possibly be in a place like London that was rife with every smell imaginable, unless you were built for such things) she instead seemed to be sensing with something else. In this case she let her magic twist out with the fog, checking for hostility or anything of interest. This was a part of the area some of her associates had described as being uncontested as of yet and it was important to know what it was you were expecting to assist in taking over. Not the werewolf territory but that territory next door.

sorry about the wait on this!

[viduation]

The night was quiet, but it definitely hadn’t been so cold a few moments ago. Derek did not decide to put his hands into his pockets - rather, he became aware that he had, reflexively, in response to a sudden swoop in temperature. Immediately, he stopped in his tracks, tilting his head to look around. His scan of the silent street betrayed nothing; no spellwork, no sign of a haunting, though those are few enough. Still, with no doubt in his mind that this was unnatural, even with London’s less than balmy summer, he quickened his pace as he walked on. As he hurried down the street, the air grew colder still, the sudden shift from summer to spring driving him on.

And, as he turned the corner, spring seemed to become winter. At first, he barely noticed the woman standing there on the pavement. His eyes had caught instead on the fog spiralling across the ground, the frost incandescent on the ground. Magic always made his hairs stand on end, and even with only a layman’s knowledge he could feel the crackle of power in the air as surely as the cold.

Gaze catching on the hem of her dress, his eyes were gradually drawn upwards. Was it possible to wear winter? The question, in all its absurdity, stuck in his mind. The gown, however, was not what had his breath hitching in his throat.

She was beautiful. Beautiful enough to stun, beautiful enough to drive all thoughts of suspicion and caution momentarily from his mind. Derek stood transfixed by her, the frost-like translucence of her and how the winter-night cold made her seem delicate and dangerous all at once.

Fae. She had to be; as far as Derek was concerned, there was no other explanation. Fae she may have been, but he’d never seen one - or anything - like her before. But it was still too difficult to get his brain working again. His fingers flexed, slowly. He let out that breath. He forced himself to shut his eyes for a moment.

“Who are you?” Coloured by shock and no small amount of awe, the question lacks the edge he’d usually like.

[rules_winter]

It wasn't completely still, occasional lights would flash as cars drove by on the busier nearby street but it was slow enough to notice a person arriving and she turned her head to look at him as he came to an abrupt stop. Ahh yes, it had been some time since a mortal had fully appreciated what she was and she could see it overwhelm him for a moment, his awe made her smile.

He overcame it surprisingly quickly though he had to close his eyes to do so. Even more interesting. Few mortals would have realized closing their eyes might help. The glowing, shifting colors of her eyes and jewels tended to stun as much as she did. Mab turned, and walked toward him, fog flowing around her feet and hiding them from view. "I am known by many names, Mortal." It wasn't like she was particularly hiding what she was, and calling him mortal just struck it home. Her eyes drifted along his figure, taking in the strong build, rugged features and slightly feral quality to him. She could feel a magic coming off him that took her a few moments and the closeness to their territory to decide he was a wolf. One of those mortals cursed by the light of the full moon. "I am the Lady of Air and Darkness." She offered, stopping within touching distance of him and studying his face which appeared almost innocent when he wasn't glowering. The soft lines between his eyebrows where they are normally drawn together tell a different story than the innocent expression. Suspicion or anger are her best guesses at what may have caused such lines to appear. Human's faces are so telling. Lovely in their imperfections.

"And what is your name, wolfling?"