Party Poison (
injectablefame) wrote in
undergrounds2016-07-10 04:23 pm
Entry tags:
OPEN
Party is starting to settle in. London is still a new city, but not so new that he's getting lost every time he goes outside. Learning the sights and the smells and where is or isn't safe for him to go has had a learning curve to it, but he thinks he's getting the hang of it as much as any new werewolf could.
Of course, he doesn't necessarily always give a shit. There are a lot of art galleries outside of the areas he's been told to stay--many in Hackney--and he's not about to avoid all of them just because someone tells him to.
He walks around the gallery opening in his ratty clothes, pushing his greasy red hair off of his face and studying the paintings and sculptures with a sort of rapt fascination. There's free wine and he manages to lose count of how much he has by the time he's stumbling home.
Once the opening is over, it's late and he's walking home through the streets of Hackney back towards the areas that his new pack have control of. He's keeping his head down enough about what he is that he's not expecting much trouble, but he's always ready for a fight if need be and he's too drunk to bother hiding that.
Of course, he doesn't necessarily always give a shit. There are a lot of art galleries outside of the areas he's been told to stay--many in Hackney--and he's not about to avoid all of them just because someone tells him to.
He walks around the gallery opening in his ratty clothes, pushing his greasy red hair off of his face and studying the paintings and sculptures with a sort of rapt fascination. There's free wine and he manages to lose count of how much he has by the time he's stumbling home.
Once the opening is over, it's late and he's walking home through the streets of Hackney back towards the areas that his new pack have control of. He's keeping his head down enough about what he is that he's not expecting much trouble, but he's always ready for a fight if need be and he's too drunk to bother hiding that.

no subject
The voice that taunts the newcomer is high and clear: a child's. There's nothing childish about the predatory smile on the boy's face as he approaches, though, nor is there any question of what he is. Hackney belongs to Islington. Any werewolf in this part of the city after dark has a death wish.
"This isn't your territory, puppy."
(Sorry for the delay)
"I ain't lookin' to take your territory." Which is about as honest as he can get. He doesn't care about claiming borders as long as people leave him alone when he's minding his own business.
no subject
"You're here. And that makes you a dead man."
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"Gonna kill a man for goin' to an art show?" He cocks his hip to the side and raises an eyebrow.
no subject
"Is your peculiar sense of self-importance a particularly American trait, or are you just a simpleton?" Joscelin wonders aloud. "I don't care if you've just been at an art show; I've killed men for far less."
no subject
This is probably the exact behavior that worries his parents in the first place, but he doesn't care about that, either.