undergrounds | Open; May 12-14

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Open; May 12-14

A. Caffeine Cold

A full week of a new school probably would have fried her nerves even if she wasn't still adjusting to her curse. The full moon, naturally, hadn't helped one bit. Coffee probably wouldn't help her relax, but she wasn't about to deny herself something sweet when her mood was already so sour.

So of course she trips rounding a street corner and spills the drink all over herself.

"Shit, shit, shit." Girl hops from foot to foot, trying to dislodge the icy mush from her shirt. She starts scooping it off her clothes, promptly flinging it away from her skin and, probably, right onto the poor souls passing by.

B. Into the ~~Wolf's~~ Lion's Den

The East End pack has far nicer digs than she's used to.

She saw some of the place on full moon, but hadn't had time for more than a quick peek around before other matter's took hold. With the night behind her, she's curious to explore; see what she'll be contending with for the foreseeable future. She's examining a broken down wall currently, running her fingers over the ragged edge of splintered stone.

"Ya'll been rough with this place," she says, though her tone is warm rather than accusing. She finds the chaos homey. "Looks like a hurricane came thrashin' through here."

C. Chalk Zone
She's not far from her apartment building, sitting cross legged in a parking lot of some run-down shops. It's well past working hours and the place is deserted. Girl's made herself comfortable, an honest to god boombox blaring loudly by her side, and a bag leaning against her back. She riffles through it every few moments, picking out new pieces of chalk.

She's drawing on the pavement, mushroom clouds and dragons mixed with lines from old rock songs. It's not very good, childish and more a mess than anything artistic. Still, she seems to be enjoying herself and the look she gives when anyone walks by says she has no plans on stopping any time soon.

D. Player's Choice; Leave your own prompt

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Ghoul breathes out an exaggerated sigh when her face falls. It's not that bad.

...Is it?

"Mighta been a cat involved." His nose wrinkles. That doesn't sound very impressive. "A big cat." There, that's better. He moves in closer, crouching down somewhere nearby in a mostly-clean area.

"Right. A cat did that." She snorts, lips curling into a frown. She turns attention back to her drawing, sorting through her chalk pieces. "You can just tell me to shut up 'bout it, if you don't want to tell me. I won't get mad."

She's used to hearing it, being the youngest.

"What are you doin' anyway?" She rolls a few pieces of chalk over to him, a silent invitation to join her.

Oh, god. The disbelief is even worse than the truth. He actually feels himself bristling a bit, and he's not sure whether or not his face actually turns red, but he ducks his head just in case so that shit doesn't see the light of day. "It was a cat," he mutters. A shapeshifter to be specific. It's a pretty ridiculous situation, honestly. It's probably better if she doesn't believe him.

"Not much. Gettin' the third degree from somebody who can't buy their own happy meals." He makes a face and picks up a piece of blue, scooting in to a more comfortable position before dragging the chalk against the ground. "How'd things go for you the other night?" With the moon and the pack and all.

"Mmmhmm." There's so much belief in her tone. So much. Really, his reaction is doing so much to change her mind.

"Hey, geez. I'm not that young." She has a feeling she'll be arguing that particular point a lot. Girl sighs, scratching the back of her neck. "It went okay, I guess. Better than being tied up in the basement by myself."

Less lonely, a lot more comfortable. She could understand the appeal of spending the moon with a pack. "Still kinda awkward. I'm not sure when that'll change."

Ghoul chuckles at his own joke, keeping his eyes on the ground as he draws his outline. "What's awkward?" He's not going to argue- there are still a lot of things that he finds awkward too. He's just curious. "You havin' trouble?"

And if he keeps her mind busy, maybe she won't notice the poorly drawn shark he's sketching out. It's large and a little spiky-looking, with its mouth open wide near Girl like it's about chomp her.

"Not trouble exactly," she starts, pausing to chew on her lip in thought. Girl doesn't want to sound like she can't handle it, like she's going to be the weak runt. "I grew up with it, so you'd think it wouldn't be weird but it is. Doin' it 'round other people and everything. Different bein' with a pack as a real part of it."

She's not looking at him or what he's doing, staring across the parking and gaze clearly somewhere else. "And, well. Guess I never thought it'd change so much. How ya think or the controllin' yourself shit and all that. It's just-whatever. Not a big deal, takes gettin' used to."

He puts a pause on his sketching, looking up at her after going still. That sounds pretty familiar. "It ain't just whatever. It is weird, it's hard, it hurts, and it fuckin' sucks. Not really somethin' you get used to, I don't think." Not for him, anyway, but he wasn't born into his curse, so maybe it works differently for the both of them. Hell if he knows, he's never gotten around to asking.

"But, that's what you got us now for, y'know? I wouldn't be good help, but there's people in the pack that's been doin' this for a real long time." Edith in particular is one of his favorites. She's a quirky old thing, but sharp as a tack and full of life experience. She could help Girl get her head in order and make sense of things, probably. "You want me to send 'em your way some time?"

"I don't want to bother anyone," Girl says but it's a feeble excuse. It's exactly what she'd come here for, what she'd joined a pack for; to have that help and community back. Mostly she just doesn't want to sound like she's being a baby over the whole thing. "But if ya don't think they'd mind, well."

Well, yes. Yes, she wants the help. She nods, glancing at him.

"You're really all in with it, ain't you? With the pack." There's a hint of admiration in her voice. She knew all wolves would be, in a sense. She still finds it a trustworthy quality. "Thanks."

"Ain't a bother." Ghoul's face screws up. "Why be in a pack if you can't use it?" Being the hypocrite he is, he of course doesn't take his own advice about seeking out help, but she's different. Too young to be burdened with this shit. She deserves opportunities.

He flings a half-stick of chalk at her, thwapping her high on her shoulder with it. "Don't start gettin' all sentimental at me." Makes him feel like a sap or something. Ugh. Unacceptable. "I'll set you up, though," he says with a nod before staring down at the pavement in silence for a moment. "You got a yellow over there?"

He is an adult and he can color his fake sharks yellow if he god damn wants to.

"For a ton of reasons. Better than doin' this shit alone, help or not." Her nose wrinkles and she rubs at it absently. It sounds more bitter than she means it to be.

"I'm not bein' sentimental," she grumbles, neck flushing. She grabs a yellow piece from her side, tosses it at him. She might stick her tongue out at him, just for a second, when she thinks he's not staring. Sentimental she may be, mature she is not.

"Can't take a compliment, can ya?" Might as well get the conversation off herself, before she gets more awkward.

Well, she's not wrong there.

He manages to catch the piece and sets about drawing a thick yellow lightning bolt stretching from the shark's mouth, all the way down to its tail. Although he stops partway through to glance up at Girl- and of course, he's got a scrunched up, mocking expression on his face. Because unlike her and her tongue-sticking, he is Very Mature. "I can take compliments and shit just fine."

Yep. Arguing with a teenager, making sour faces, and drawing with chalk. The very picture of adulthood.

"Sure you do." There's a laugh trying to escape in her tone. At least she restrains herself from rolling her eyes.

She sets to adding flourishes to her dragon, armor and an horned helmet. She's slow about it, interested in watching him work. It's been a while since she's seen someone else draw, even if it's just childishly doodling on pavement.

"You've been here in the city a while now, yeah?" She asks, switching gears. "Sounded like it, from all the warnin's you were givin' me before over this group and that."

If he didn't have chalk in one hand and wasn't using the other to keep himself propped up, he'd totally flip her off right about now. Alas. Instead he just peeks over at her dragon and shrugs. "Little bit. Long enough to mostly know where and where not to go." Though, admittedly, sometimes it can be tricky. When he came here, he never thought he'd have to pay so much fucking attention.

"Hope you like politics, 'cause you're gonna have to start keepin' track of this bullshit too." He huffs bitterly. "Goin' back home is gonna be like a vacation after all this."

"Does anyone like politics?" She asks, snorting. But she eyes him, catching that bitterness in his tone. She carefully continues coloring, angling her body towards him. "Never had to keep track of this sort of thin' before. Weren't any others where we were, 'cept the hunters."

And there were no politics in outrunning the Crows.

"Kinda shit, really. Came here tryin' to get away from lookin' over my shoulder," Out of a frying pan, right into a fire. At least the political game seemed a hair safer than being hunted. She'd tell him as much. But something about his statement catches her off-guard.

"You're plannin' on goin' back? Back to California? People like us are targets there." People like them are dying there. Wasn't going home at best a death wish?

There are people who like politics out there. And there's something gravely wrong with every single one of them.

"Definitely shit," he says with a wry smile. Okay, to be fair, London is probably safer... most of the time. But he misses the simplicity of home.

He's momentarily baffled by her surprise. "Hm?" Oh, right. She doesn't know what he's doing here in the first place. "Uh, yeah. I'm just here for a little while. I know it's bad, but that's why I gotta go back, y'know? Make sure it don't spread."

"You think you're just gonna solve it by yourself?" Her voice raises an octave. She stares at him like he's grown a second head. "Go back 'round all those crows, stop 'em? That's insane."

She'd seen people try and fail. A group get torn down for their efforts. What could one person do?

She drops any pretense of drawing, setting her chalk down and turning toward him with a serious a look as she can muster. "Ghoul, you'll get yourself killed."

He stops what he's doing and looks up, having a bewildered expression on his face. Is he being scolded right now? Is this happening? Well, gosh, of course he's got to defend himself.

"No, not by myself!" It comes out sounding a little taken aback, a hand raising and he waves it at her almost desperately. Going at it alone would for sure be insane. He shakes his head, figuring he might as well clarify. Just to put her mind at ease. "There's a whole group I run around with. It's fine, really, I already been doin' it for a while."

Maybe he's just making it worse.

"That doesn't make it better!" She throws her hands up, then scrubs over her face. She had hope when she moved that her new pack would a little less foolish than the last. A little more keen on survival.

"It doesn't matter if you have a group," she starts, trying to keep her voice low and taking care to enunciate. Her tone's still urgent, like she half believes he'll take off tomorrow into danger. "There are a lot of them and they're smart. And armed to the damned teeth. I've seen them take out entire packs. It's dangerous, it's beyond dangerous."

What in the hell is going on here? Isn't he the adult in this situation? Ghoul frowns, but it's hard to get genuinely mad at her. He actually tries for a minute- because who does she think he is, telling him what he should and shouldn't be doing?

It doesn't take, and he deflates with a loud sigh. "I hear you." She's seen the same things he has, so she knows what she's talking about and she's obviously concerned. Staying away from California would be the smart thing to do.

When was the last time he did the smart thing, though?

"But, listen, they ain't gonna stay put. They're gonna spread, they're gonna be seen and heard. And maybe they won't make it this far." He shrugs. "But if what they're doin' sticks, then other assholes are gonna think it's okay for them to start the same sort of shit. So what's gonna happen when you run outta places to hide?"

He's not wrong. Unchecked SCARECROW will only grow, get the chance to kill more people and cause more destruction. She wouldn't be surprised if they took hold of the entire southwest before long.

But that doesn't mean she thinks fighting back will do him any good.

"The world's a big place." Plenty of places to run to, plenty of places to hide. She knows it's a coward's answer, but Girl's never pretended to be brave where this is concerned. Angry, maybe. But not brave. She didn't want to be around to see anyone else die.

"They gotta be taken out someday, I know that. Hell, that's what I'd want! But it's not like it'll be easy, not like it ain't risky. Aren't you even a lil' worried? Scared?" Does Ghoul really know what he's getting into, she wants to ask. Is he sure his friends aren't just leading him on a suicide mission? She might not know him well, but it doesn't mean she wants to hear he's about to run off and do something stupid.

"I mean..." He shrugs. Of course he's worried, and he's been scared more than a few times. Who wouldn't be?

He plants his hands on the pavement, resting his weight on them as he leans forward slightly. His tone is a bit gentler than it usually would be when he asks, "What am I s'posed to do? Start over here and forget about it?" That won't work.

Oh, sure, he could get away with it. But they have to be taken down, she said it herself- and while Ghoul's not so conceited to think his presence will make-or-break the outcome, if they all started following that kind of advice, then there would be no one left to push back.

She looks at him between her fingers, still frowning. As far as she's concerned, he's all but announced he's got an expiration date. She thinks bitterly about how history always seemed doomed to repeat itself, that everything was always an inescapable cycle. She drops her hands to her lap with a heavy sigh.

"You could." It's childish and small. She makes herself take another deep breath, clears her throat. It's no time to be a child. Girl turns back toward the images on the ground, grabbing the closest stick of chalk. "Does anyone else know what you're plannin'? From the pack?"

Maybe someone else would have a better chance talking to him. Someone he knew him better, had more reason and investment in his life. Or maybe she was about to find out everyone else was just as willing to run head first into the lion's den. Either way, it was something to know.

He can't help cracking a fleeting smile at her insistence that he could stay. In that moment, she looks and sounds much younger than what she is. It's good that she got out. She's too soft for that kind of life, as she ought to be. That's normal. Kids her age should be allowed to be that sort of normal.

Her question, unfortunately, won't produce many satisfying results. "Yeah, sorta." Katherine knows he's here on a job, but he doubts she knows all of the dirty details. Party knows pretty much all of it. Good luck getting a counterargument out of that one.

"You really don't gotta worry. I don't think I'm goin' anywhere for a while, for one." Ghoul sits back, wiping his palms off on his jeans. All he ends up doing is making more of a mess, smearing colorful dust all over himself. "And I bet after a few months you'll be itchin' to get rid'a me." He grins, attempting to make her feel better through humor. What's actually funny is how he assumes going back will be so easy. The longer he stays, the more attached he'll become to being part of a pack. The posse back home is a good group and all... but it's not a pack. They're all too different, too independent, too inconsistent in where they'll be and with who and for how long. It's a chaotic system that works, but it's not the same. Not even a little bit.

Sorta isn't a reassuring answer. Either they know or they don't, and Girl can guess which he's talking about. She doesn't press it. He's not the only one she's spoken to; she can try to scope out what other's know latter.

She makes a disbelieving noise, she hasn't stopped being worried in the past half decade, but again she lets it drop. A while can mean anything and that gives her plenty of opportunities to argue her point in the future. Maybe further familiarity will give her ammunition into making him see reason.

"I've put up with a lot worse than you," she says, making meaningless marks on the concrete. It's doubtful she'll want to get rid of anyone regardless of the chance to do so. "So you're stayin' at least a few months?"

She can work with that.

She's in it for the long haul. If he were aware of her plans, he might be impressed. Probably annoyed too, but some degree of impressed all the same.

But being dumb and clueless, he thinks nothing of the conversation and shrugs, drumming his fingers against his knees. "Yeah, I figure so. There's some stuff I gotta do here, and it's slow." Okay, maybe he'd have better progress if he'd stop getting distracted by local disasters. This stuff is important too, though.

And after a moment of contemplation, he gives Girl an offended look. "Who the hell d'you know that's worse than me?"

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