Mitchie Barrios

[braverycursed]

About :

Name: Michelle 'Mitchie' Barrios Occupation: Attendant at Moonlight Skate Age: 24 Sexuality: Bisexual Species: Werewolf Pack: Eventide Hometown: Crescent City, California Relationship Status: Single

Biography :

Her story doesn't start out in some grandiose scheme. Just a simple girl, a mediocre plan in place for things like college and where she's going to live for the four years of it. If her and her current partner can make it if they go long distance. What her next pay check is going to look like, and subsequently how much she'll be able to save out of it. Normal. Easy. Unremarkable. She's just a girl, floating through life, grasping at what she is given and never asking for anything more.

The night it happens doesn't seem very remarkable either, they've been to this part of the national park before. Park at the out cropping, a slight hike, back pack full with a blanket and snacks, a few cans of pop. They'll be separating after this summer, so much left unsaid, maybe tonight they'll actually talk about it. They find their usual spot easily, crawl under the hole in the chainlink, another short walk out into the clearing where redwoods grow tall. Imposing. Something feels…off. But the moon is full, bright. And as the girl she loves sets out the blanket, Mitchie can't help but brush it off. That sinking feeling. That feeling of intrusion. A deep, bone aching feeling of being watched.

Looking back on it, she wonders is it was some innate instinct. Prey extinct. They were its prey that night without even knowing it.

They're stretched out on the blanket now, laughing, sharing soft kisses between too many cheetos and sips of cold cokes. She wants them to touch the topic, so she steals herself and the words come out softly. "I got into Tideview…it's in Oregon. I — " words are cut off at the sound of a crunch. She pulls up out of her leaned back position, eyes trying to scan the area. Trying to see through the dark. Shit, a ranger? There is a low growl and her partner is scrambling to get up. Shit, fuck the conversation. Fuck the mess, flight triggers. Mitchie is up in a flash, grabbing at the other girl's arm, wrenching her forward. Years of track hopefully helping them to escape. The growl comes again. Louder. Closer.

Were you even supposed to run in these situations? She doesn't know. She really fucking doesn't know. Get out of there, go, escape. The thing breaches into the clearing just as they are skidding into the treeline. It's massive, terrifying. All snapping jaws and spittle at its jaws. A rabid snarl as it starts to make chase. They're running and running. Never fast enough, making use of what memories through the woods they have. Her girlfriend trips, stumbles. She could keep going. Escape. Leave the prone girl to take her place. She wants to go to school. She wants to live that mediocre life. She wants to fucking live.

Instead feet dig into the earth. Sneakers digging up brush and root as she barrels back. The beast is there, prone. Ready for its meal. She does the only thing that makes sense in that moment. Throws herself over the other girl's frame, body ready as its massive jaw comes down, she manages a frightened warning to the other 'Run. Don't stop' the scream that follows is loud, razor like teeth clamped down around her leg as it bites down around her calf as it starts dragging her back. And without hesitation, the girl she loves scrambles upwards and runs as she's dragged further back into the woods.

It burns and her leg is throbbing so badly it nearly feels numb from the pain, her body feverish with adrenaline and fear, fingers biting into dirt to try and struggle. To fight. They're near the clearing when she sees it, hand flailing out, arm straining as she grabs the fucking shop light they'd brought to illuminate the path on their way here. Fingers slip the first try and then the next. The third is desperate, barely clutching the cord and pulling it into herself. She turns over with a struggle, teeth ripping and cutting through thick jean and supple flesh. Fuck her leg, the damn thing can fucking have it. Facing it, she positions the heavy duty flashlight and clicks the button.

Blinding LED flashes into its face, its eyes. Blinding and disorienting. Other leg pulls back, bending at the knee before shooting out like a spring sneaker clad foot reeling into its head. It lets go with a whimper. She can feel the blood seeping from her injured leg. She won't let them light's beam from its eye. Good leg prone for another kick. As it backs off, thank fucking god the light seems to be disorienting it she pushes through the pain, Using the injured thing to shove herself back, further and further. Light still trained on its face as it scrambles and tries to get away from its bright burn. She feels her back hit bark, feels the tree digging into her back, just a little to the left and she tumbles back into the hollow just beneath. The light is put out.

She hears it snuffling, tracking its meal without the blinding light killing its ability to do so. She pushes further, back pressed against soft dirt, thankful for the way the only entrance is hard as fuck to get into without the perfect angle. She stays there for the rest of the night, beast ramming into strong, ancient roots attempting to get at her. Her leg bleeding, aching, throbbing. She doesn't know how long it is before it stops. She doesn't move, she can't. She hears the pad just barely over her fearful pants as it finally gives, and it isn't until the sun turns the sky a watercolor of pink that she finally drags herself out. Until she gets to their trashed picnic, her phone.

The next full moon comes in sweat and blood. Things had felt normal, or mediocre at best, but then came pain and anguish; bones breaking and a lose of self bones breaking and a loss of self.

She wakes up, naked, scared, and alone. Her partner- ex-partner- had already left. It's the first round of a new monthly ritual, and come fall she moves.

Port Leiry. With the new scenery and new surroundings, so too comes a deep dive into what's happening. What she's become.The Alpha is kind, welcomes her into the fold. And suddenly maybe she isn't so mediocre. And maybe she isn't alone. She has pack. Eventide. She has people willing to fight for her. She has a beast rippling below her skin.

[aelitatoussaint]

"Better be careful, then," she says with a churlish wink - if this is just a girl on a jog, the risk involved there is worse than Aelita cracking ice. The tattoo etched into her skin would - mostly anyways - save her. There'd be humilation, sure, but she's fallen in front of thousands of people in her life. You just get back up. "Easy for the weather to creep."

Then, like she'll take no arguing, she starts packing her things in. The question brings another smile to her features.

"A little while," Aelita says - with a tone that begets the truth is deeper. "Just most of my life." It's not judgy, or mean, or snide; just matter-of-fact. Aelita bundles her kit.

"Careful you don't slip though! They aren't icing the sidewalk much."

[braverycursed]

"I'm pretty — light on my feet." The pause isn't meant to be there, you couldn't just come out and say something like 'Don't worry, I'm a werewolf. It makes me pretty agile.' after all. She chuckles and gives a nod. "You must really love it to do something like that for so — " Her words cut off this time for a completely different reason, something cracking in the distance has her ears perking, the hair on her arms bristling, even with the slight burn of frigged air she can smell something. Almost familiar but not quite right.

Dark eyes glance over the other, for all she knows this woman is defenseless, and sure she risks some level of exposure. Maybe though if it is something dangerous she can blame the extra strength as an act of adrenaline. She licks her lips, body still as she keeps listening. Letting her senses do the work. The left flank, whatever it is, it is coming from the left. It's subtle the way she shifts her weight. The way she turns though, the way she moves to block is clear that something is happening.

"Pack up faster." She mutters enough for the skater to hear. There is another snap, she barely suppresses a growl, a natural protectiveness washing over her. Sure they were strangers, but if whatever this was meant harm, Mitchie wouldn't stand idly by. She wouldn't run. Then it breaks the trees, it looks like a person, but not. This time she does growl lowly. The thing looks like that…uncanny valley thing everyone is always talking about and despite the dread that fills her she takes a step forward.

"Stay back, alright?" It makes a noise, something that sounds like a warped version of her voice like it's practicing her timber.

[elio-silvestrini]

He thinks he is good with one drink, but he appreciates the offer and allows himself a smile to let the other wolf know so. But he does listen intently to the types of packs that are in this city. The names do not roll off the tongue but the idea of a pack being named after a three-headed dog of mythology makes him almost laugh. He wonders, then, what their philosophy is. He is not born, but turned - does that mean he will have to choose between this Harford and Eventide?

If he were to choose. He isn't sure he wants to be beholden to a pack any longer. He takes a sip of his drink, and eventually does nod. Checking it out will be fine. "I could come look. Yes. I do not think I want to join another - my sister and I are very close, I do not want her to join a coven that does not fit her. We would need to stay close."

[braverycursed]

She lets out a puff of air in relief as he gives her a smile, something that looks thankful. "There is never any pressure, at least not from me. And if anyone tries? Just ignore them. I can't say I know much about the covens. I stick to my own outside of pack meetings. The alpha is understanding. Can be a little pushy, but ultimately doesn't pester all too much. I'm glad you aren't alone though. Family is important." She doesn't mention near brutalizing a member of her own. That it had been her final push to move away. To try somewhere else and hope the temptations of the beast didn't follow.

She finishes her beer. Dark eyes glancing over his face before grabbing for the napkin her drink had been settled on. She hopes that this is welcome too as she fishes for something to write with, one of those ridiculously tiny pencils taken from a cup on the table. She jots down her number and passes it across the table. "If you need anything, no matter how big it seems, give me a call. You might not necessarily want a pack. But a friend is always good in a tough situation."

[elio-silvestrini]

He looks up, surprised. Oh. Elio had not realized she was offering - was that an American thing he had overlooked or simply something he was not used to, having been so sheltered. A slight flush colors his cheeks at the realization. "Sorry, I am still learning much about the world." That leaves it open enough - he hopes.

She does not seem to mind his explanation, and goes into her own. He wonders, briefly, what sort of pack she belongs to. "Is - ah, what packs are there in the city? I have not had a chance to.. learn. Yet." He is trying, though. It seems most people he meets these days smell of florals, other than the man at the gym - he was.. nice enough.

The question makes his face twist a bit, unsure how to answer it. No, he was not attacked, but he was not born like this either. The memory comes quick and clear without him bidding for it, and he sighs. "I.. ah.. my pack was- It was.. not natural. But not.. attack, either."

He rubs at the scruff on his jawline, "My family.. blood family .. all wolves, not born, turned. When I was.. a child, they gave me -- a medicine made from our venom? To turn me. Then was trained to guard the coven. Different sort of life there than here." It is not a secret what he went through, and it was simply normal for them. "Pack is dead now, though. All. I am not in one."

[braverycursed]

She gives a slight shake of her head, "You don't have to apologize, I just wanted to use it as a thank you for helping me move my truck. I know you did it not looking for anything, but still, I really appreciated the kindness, not everyone here would stop to help." She gives him a soft smile. "If you want another? I'll pay for the next one." She tells him not wanting to assume he'd want to stay here longer for a second.

At the question about packs she looks thoughtful for a moment. "There are four packs here, I won't pretend that I know everything about each one, I'm trying to learn though. I'm trying to fully embrace what I am now. But away from that. There is the pack I'm a part of. Eventide, we are a pack built from..other-ed wolves. Wolves that aren't always sure where they stand or the logistics of this world. A mix of turned and born wolves that aren't sure if they want a pack fully or where they stand. Then there is Harford, from what I heard they are an off branching of an older pack, Warwick, which is very, like old school and focused on born wolves being the only true wolves, but Harford accepts everyone and focuses more on their humanity. Then there is…I think Cerberous?" She blushes slightly and shrugs.

"I'm not a hundred percent sure on them. Shit, I actually think I got something jumbled.Sorry, I'm not super great at this." She apologizes, then listens about his original pack, of his turning. Though she would take not being turned at all, the thought of something less violent to start with sounds like a way better introduction to this confusing world. But it still doesn't sound great, being turned to be a guard, a soldier. Not having a choice in the matter even if it wasn't as painful…at least she hopes it wasn't. Hopes it wasn't terrifying.

"You could come, if you wanted to check it out, to mine. I won't push it, but it has been helpful, having support, a community that looks out for one another. Back home…I was alone. Kind of scared. I thought I was going to die the night I got bitten, but I was just trying to protect someone important to me." A sad chuckle. "Even if it turned out I wasn't as important to her."

[aelitatoussaint]

Talented, she feels the need to correct - not because she believes it's a difference - talent is just the desire peppered onto skill and knowledge, after all, but because she's always been the contrarian. She doesn't speak to that though, instead smiling at the compliment.

"I know ice," she chirps, smiling sidelong at the woman. "It's pretty solid out there - not too deep of a pond, and it's been cold."

Strong calves kick her feet up to place the guards on her skates. No longer zipping along with exertion, her body becomes more aware of the cold, and she gives a vigorous shiver. "Out for a jog?"

[braverycursed]

"Well if you know ice, I'll take your word on the safety aspects." She muses with a friendly smile of her own, hands slipping into the pockets of her joggers after cutting off the music in her ears completely. "I've only skated in rinks back home. I'd give my self a ranking of — hmm — just above toddler." She jokes with a brief bashful duck of her head.

Standing still the cold does settle into her more, though natural warmth does stave it off a bit. Her head gives a quick nod, and the toe of her shoe scuffs the frosty ground. "Yeah. Helps me clear my head. The challenge with the current weather makes it a little more fun too, I think. I got yelled at for risking running the college track."

For someone who fought to face things head-on, it had always been a bit of a joke how obsessed Mitch was to the art of running. Marathons. Track meets. Miles. Hurdles. If it involved running she was there. The burn in her legs, the strain in her thighs. It was addicting. "Have you been skating long?" A beat and a soft amused huff. "Sorry, that was a dumb question."

[elio-silvestrini]

He gets whatever is on tap and pays with a few bits of change that add up to the total. And lets Mitchie lead him over to the booth set a bit away from the rest of the meager bits of people who are in the Heron club with them. Elio holds the beer close to his chest and sips it. Not good. But he'll drink it because he paid for it.

"I don't mind being... bothered." Talking to other people is not something he hates, he just finds it difficult with the silver, magical brand on his tongue. Talking to people has often been a good experience for the most part. Provided he does not put his foot into his mouth.

"But no. I am.. from Rome." Another sip. It tastes a little better the second time. "It's, ah - I come from a pack there. Pack and coven. Combined." He puts two fingers together. "No longer, so I am here now."

[braverycursed]

She gives him a bit of a crooked smile, she was meant to pay for him, doesn't know how she'll give him the money without offending him. Before she can stop herself the words come out. "That beer was supposed to be me paying you back. I was going to buy it." She chuckles and takes a drink. "I don't mind being approached, I'm just — not the best at talking to people. I always feel a bit…" She waves her hand as if trying to explain it. "like I'm bad at it I guess." She says with a soft smile, taking another drink as she listens to him speak.

Rome, she wonders if it is as beautiful as the travel brochures her ex used to collect made it look. Wonders where else this wolf has traveled. He is far from home regardless, and she listens intently as he explains where he came from, eyes steady with his. She doesn't know if it's the translation to English filtering through his mind, or something else. Either way she doesn't comment, doesn't rush. He is doing fine and she's patient. She wonders if his pack being entwined with a coven causes the slight smell that comes off it, but she doesn't comment on that either instead nodding as he speaks.

"I didn't have a pack back home. I kind of just figured out things myself until I got here, for school. I have a pack now, kind of a wayward thing some of the members say. But I appreciate the shelter of it and the guidance. I hope one day I'll be able to guide others that find themselves in my situation." She fiddles with the label on her beer. "Were you…uh — attacked? Or was it natural? I didn't know people could be born like this."

[aelitatoussaint]

Where: Westriver Gardens Open: To All

This town's a squat, and it burns her up that she can't leave it. Bringing the hammer down on things that go bump in the night is all well and good, truly, but now some fuckery's happened and no one can leave.

That includes her - which is irritating - because Port Leiry is so small change.

But the cold chases people away and means she has this frozen lake all to herself. It is magical, at least, scenic enough, and the ice feels good under her feet, the scrape and glide of something not polished in an arena something she hasn't indulged in in a very long time.

But then it becomes obvious she's not alone - this doesn't bother her; she's found the secret to be alone in the center of an arena full of thousands - in her element, in her mode. She runs over the events of the week in full; hunt bills, warnings, things to look out for; strange things lurking in the icy fog and flurries that have decided to so suddenly plague this city.

Work, work, work - and all she wants to do is play.

So she's playing, sliding across, leaping, challenging herself. She lands a few twisting leaps, tracing flowing lines across the pond's surface before she decides - thirsty - and slides over to the edge of the water, where her compatriot seems to be lingering. She grabs her bag, fishes an insulated thermos free and take a long draught from it, the amber glow from Westriver's pathway lighting casting odd shadows across herself and the frozen pond before she checks her phone on it's little tripod, and stops it recording. "Thought I'd be alone out here."

[braverycursed]

Running through snow, through ice, is trickier than the usual tracks through Westriver. But there is something comforting in the challenge of it. In the way you had to be sure footed, on alert, focused. It spikes endorphins for the young wolf. She can almost imagine swift paws bracing against the frost and muddied grit of the ground. Most the pathways have been kept clean enough, but the snow still continues to build and pile upon them. Breath puffs in hot bursts of foggy clouds as she goes, it's the scrape of ice that brings her to a slowed stop, the sound enough to break through the music pumping from her earbuds.

A press and they silence as the music is paused, breaking from the treeline the sight of a skater gliding across the pond comes into view. And maybe it's a bit weird moving to watch, but the movements are enchanting. Clean and sharp in a way that looks effortless. A control in a way that she can appreciate. Mitch has always been rudimentary on the ice. Sure she could skate without falling on her ass, but never like this. Not on something so wild and untamed as a pond surface. Skating was an indoor activity, something on smooth, shiny ice. Polished and clean. No what this skater was doing was elegant and dangerous.

She feels a bit foolish when the mystery woman moves to the edge and messes with her setup before speaking. "I thought the same thing. You're really skilled. But with your stance, and the risk you are taking I have a feeling you are already aware of that."

[elio-silvestrini]

He waits outside at the mechanics because it isn't his business what she has to do, and when she arrives back, his hands are shoved into his pockets. The frigid air doesn't bother him too much, but it is annoying to have his body react with goose pimples and his hair standing on end. "I am Elio." He says by way of introduction, and lets her lead them towards the bar.

It's nice inside, he thinks - but he also can't be too much of a judge, he'd not been in many bars. It's not quite busy, but he doesn't think many places are these days. Every store he'd been to lately was sparse and chilled.

He lets her lead more, over towards the counter. "I will take.. whatever is available." Elio isn't sure if it will even taste good, but he doesn't care. He is just glad to be out of the shelter and not frantically looking for money.

[braverycursed]

She nods at the sound of his name, taking her hand back and plugging into her pocket once more. " Nice to meet you, Elio." She offers him and then nods her head in the way of the Heron club. Most of the walk is quiet. But it isn't uncomfortable. She's never been much for chatter or small talk. She never really thinks what she says comes out right.

Quiet, mildly ambitious. Her actions, she thinks, come across better than conversation. W7hen they reach the bar she leads him in, hands slipping from her pockets as the warmth takes over from the frigid cold of the outside world. She waves the bartender over, lets Elio order than orders her own mug and pays.

"My favorite place to sit is over there. Most people don't really bother you." She nods towards a lone spot closer to the back. She's always tended to lead herself towards places like that. The only time she likes attention being when she'd been on the field. Leading him over she slips into the booth. Hands awkwardly fiddling with her bottle a moment. "So you are very much not from around here." She comments with the obvious. Yeah, terrible at small talk still.

[estrideats]

Estrid cracks a smile back, it would never cross her mind to try but she didn’t doubt that this other woman would be harder to take down than she looked. She had learned a long time ago not to judge people by how they appeared on the surface and that was before even taking into account the supernatural element of that thought.

She nodded as the other one exited the car, “It’s no trouble and dinner can wait.” She smiled again reassuringly, “I’m Estrid by the way, you know in case you need to use it later.” She extended a hand, names were always easier to have than not to have if push came to shove.

[braverycursed]

'Estrid' Noted. She thinks, reaching out and taking her hand to shake it, grip firm. That's another thing she's still working on, the extra strength. "Michelle. Mitch, or Mitchie will do though." She tells her, looking to the building and giving a shrug. It looked closed and she sighs.

"Truck is going to have to wait. Sorry you had to come all this way for nothing. I think I should be good on my own, I know a place close by I can get to. Thanks again." She offers a friendly enough smile. The Alley isn't too far. She can wait this out for a bit then head home at least.

She shoves her hands back into her pants pockets, she's warm enough out her thanks to the heat that radiates in her coat, thoroughly insulating her body. Wolf perk. She thinks about offering her number, so the witch — at least she's certain Estrid is a witch — can rest assured she's safe. "Did you — uh, want my number? I can shoot you a message so you don't think I froze?"

[elio-silvestrini]

A beer sounds good - he hasn't had one of those since arriving in Port Leiry, he doesn't think. And if he has, he certainly doesn't remember it. "Beer is okay." While he wouldn't mind taking the money, it feels a little odd to be offering simple help for cash. "I am Elio." He murmurs to her, grimacing as he feels the light snowflakes start to flurry down again - if the past flurries have been anything to go by, it won't be long before conditions become dangerous.

"You - ah, you open the door and push up front, steer." He mimics the steering motion, then points to guide her, and moves towards the back himself. He shakes out his hands and goes to the fender- his strength helps him lift a bit, and eventually they do get a slow, but steady pace going.

[braverycursed]

She nods as he decides on a beer, with the slight whiffs she can get he's a wolf and she knows the place they can both be shielded from the snow, and feel comfortable in their surroundings. "A beer it is. I know a place." She agrees, watching as her devises a plan. She'll help with what she can. Sometimes the added strength the bite has given her still surprises her, she smiles slightly at his miming off what he is saying though she can understand him all the same. Moving to the side of the truck, she opens her door again gets the best grip she can on it, other hand on the wheel. When the truck starts moving there is no question on the fact he is indeed a wolf.

—

It isn't too long before the snow is picking up and they are rolling into the service station. She's sweating softly, which helps with the frigid weather, the heat of exertion warming her further, and she is slightly out of breath. But they are there. They made it. Talking to the mechanic, he gives her an estimate which makes her grimace. But she pays half and tells him she'll be back as soon as she calls. The Heron club isn't too far, and the snow isn't too heavy quite yet as she makes her way back to Elio.

"Are you ready for some warmth and a beer?" She asks, before remembering a minor detail that makes her blush, though it's hidden from the red of the cold that already stings her cheeks. "My name is Michelle. But you can just call me Mitchie, or Mitch works too." She offers and holds out a hand in greeting. "Thanks again."

[estrideats]

She chuckled “Please, a snow bank wouldn’t get rid of nearly enough of the evidence. Plus,” Estrid took a sniff of the warm aroma in her car, “your right I have other plans this evening that wouldn’t allow time for the murdering of strangers.” She hoped the joking was lightening the mood. As another girl alone out in this storm, she knew she would be nervous and stressed if their situations were reversed.

“The service station should be just up here.” Estrid commented spotting the warm glow of lights in the distance, she wasn’t as familiar with the town as she would like but in a storm like this she would assume whoever ran the station would keep some kind of mechanic on duty. Breakdowns and inconveniences were more common in natural disasters like this.

As they pulled into the lit lot, a stir in Estrid’s wariness and girl code instincts prompted her to ask, “Hey do you want me to wait until you get your car sorted with whoever is in there?”

[braverycursed]

A sense of humor, nice, Mitchie thinks to herself. She opens the door and slips inside, there is a sweetness in the air as she settles and they are left in warmth. Something covered just under the smell of something savory. She's been learning to trust her nose more to identify things. Of identifying people.

"I'm also a lot harder take down than I look." she barbs back, catching the near floral scent again. Her brain pouring over what that means, remembering what another older wolf has told her. Magic. The car smelled of magic. Interesting, but not uncommon in this area. She of course dares not mention it, because pointing out magic means an explanation on why she can smell it. It twinges her nose. Reminds her that not only witches smelt of magic sometimes.

As they pull into the station she takes a deep inhale and glances up at the sign. She could say no, on the off chance she had just put herself in the sights of someone dangerous. Or she could say yes and avoid questioning. The nagging thought ofbeing prey settles in her bones, but before she thinks to hard she finds herself offering a slight smile. "Yeah, sure. Thanks. You sure whatever you got back there won't be ruined by a longer wait?"

[estrideats]

With the snow blanketing the entirety of the city, Estrid had never been quite as pleased as she was now that she had splurged on her little Kia SUV. She had always respected its ability to truck her around the country but right now she appreciated the height at which her slightly bigger car was able to afford her.

A delicious aroma of lobster bisque wafted from her groceries in the back. Her parents had, from a young age, instilled in her an urgency to stalk up on both necessities and not-so-necessities when the sky started doing things it wasn’t supposed to, a phenomena that had resulted in more than one overly absurd shut in. So, alongside her daily essentials was a sinfully large vat of soup that Estrid had deemed essential form the store next to the general.

She smiled as it wafted through her car, a smile that slowly faded as she spotted the girl on the side of the road. Pulling to the side, Estrid palmed her messenger bag of things both strange and not as she hopped out of the car and approached. She didn’t know much about cars but she did know something about not wanting to leave someone marooned in a storm. “Hey,” she yelled just loud enough that the stranger could hear her over the weather, “do you want me to give you a lift to the service station? I promise I don’t bite and that smoke tells me your car isn’t taking you anywhere fast.”

[braverycursed]

She's pulling from the inside of the trucks inner workings, now to see if the yanking did anything, she doubts it did, but there could be a chance she thinks. Her fingers at least feel warmer from dealing with the — whatever the fuck it was. She's about to round the front to slip into the drivers side again when an SUV stops, window rolling down and voice sounding over the wind. An offer of a ride, she glances from the engine to the front cabin and holds up a finger to tell her just one moment.

Slipping into her seat she turns the key in the ignition, once and then twice, the truck sounds like it wants to turn over. Maybe yanking had worked and then it gives an ugly sound and another billow of smoke plumes from under the hood.

"Fuck…" she murmurs and hits the steering wheel a couple times before taking a deep breath to calm her frustrations. The keys are slipped from the ignition and she slides back out, boots crunching in the snow and ice as she locks it up then slams the hood back down before making her way over to the waiting car.

"Yeah, a ride would be nice. You don't plan on murdering me right? Burying me in a snow bank? I don't have a lot of money, and I wouldn't be worth the extra effort." She jokes lightly.

[elio-silvestrini]

Many cars have been left on the side of the road - not that Elio knows what to do with any of them. He just knows that many do not work in the cold, and it is frigid here. The wolf keeps him warm, but the chill worms its way into his bones and settles there, even when he sits in the shelter with Catarina, sipping warm broth. Today he is out for a walk, catching a breath of fresh air.

Today he runs into another car that is not working, this time with its hood up and a girl practically crawling into it. He stops to watch for a moment, with his bare hands in his pockets. The tips of his fingers feel like ice.

There is no ride to offer, and he cannot help. "Are you -" He starts, feeling the brand on his tongue uncomfortably in the cool air. Grimacing, he speaks slowly. "Would you like to be escorted to an au-auto.. store?" Is that what they are? Me - mech.. something. He cannot remember. But he can push the car. "I can help you push."

[braverycursed]

She's so caught up in what she is doing, digging further into the vehicles engine cavity that she almost misses his approached. She does miss his first words, but when they register she startles a bit at his presences and almost slips in her grip and she nearly falls face first into the block. Quickly recovering she peals herself out from under the hood and is glad the frigid air already has her face flushed to hide her embarrassment as he offers to help her push the truck.

He looks strong enough that she doesn't think it's some random man trying to posture. She glances down at her hands, dirty and a bit greasy, frowning she rubs them on her jeans, glad her nose is slightly stuffed so she can't smell whatever putrid scents the truck is letting out.

"Yeah — uhm, that would be really helpful." She offers a small smile. " I can…offer compensation, like a beer or cash. Whatever works." She suggests, he doesn't seem imposing and his accent is pretty nice on the ears, so maybe it isn't the safest to let a random man escort you anywhere, but she has a good enough feeling this won't turn out bad.

[liamxxslater]

who: open to all

where: the den

He should have grabbed the bat -- he knew that. Liam didn't want Addie to see the other side of him. The part of him that enjoyed inflicting pain on himself. But it wasn't as if he was doing it in the same way as when he was younger. No -- he was at a place that encouraged violence. Except, they probably would prefer if he'd use an instrument instead of his own fists.

Blood dripped over his fingers -- bruises already blooming from the many blows he'd thrown at the walls and other fixtures in the room. Matteo had left him. The man that he'd considered a father had left him. Maybe not by his own accord, and maybe not without a fight, but Liam was couldn't come to terms with the anger he felt towards the man.

He'd manage to hide it. To take care of his younger sister. Fuck, he'd integrated himself into a pack for her safety. Liam was not slipping as fast as he had when he was younger, but the slip was inevitable, nonetheless.

As long as it wasn't around his younger sister.

A door opened and he quickly spat out: "I paid for three fucking hours. This space is occupied."

[braverycursed]

She tries to come here at least once a month. Something to lighten the aggression. Something to make her muscles ache a little less with their pent up energy. She isn't a violent person. She never has been. But deep within her there is a streak of something that is now. Maybe that is what she's trying to rebel against. Give it what it wants so it'll leave her alone. Or maybe it's for the beast that created her. Flashes of snapping teeth and drooling maw, wide and hungry before it — no, save that thought. Put it into smashing into some old tube television, take a sledge hammer to a cinder block wall. Be the strength she couldn't be then.

So lost in thought she misses the number on the door, the voice that comes from inside is clear she's somewhere she isn't meant to be. She should apologize and go, but the fangs sink into her throat. "It was a mistake in numbers, no need to be a fucking dick." There is a pause, she's about to close the door again and then it hits her. Metallic, different from the scraps of metal that litter these places. Dark eyes look over him, then down to the ground by his feet.

"Uh…are you okay?" She looks back to his face. "You're bleeding." It isn't soft, though there is concern, just matter of fact. It is then when she glances a bit around that she sees streaks of red other places, eyebrows pull together before she looks at him again. "Are you just…punching things? Kind of stupid don't you think?"

[freedom-mercer]

Freddie hadn't exactly packed for snow. She'd packed for rain, sure. Even freezing rain. But her wardrobe and her car weren't exactly snow-ready.

Most of the city seemed like it wasn't really snow ready, if she was being honest.

Case in point, some girl on the side of the road, pissed at her car. She's halfway past when she recognizes her through the bundling up though.

"Oh, hey!"

Her brakes clamp, and the wheels stop but the car decides not too, skidding across icy asphalt packed with thin plowed snow during this brief stoppage in the flurries that seem to be never ending. The front end of her car drifts this way and that, and she manages to get it to grab the street again. Warm air becomes visible as it billows out of her window when it rolls down and she calls back to Michigan or Michelle or...

"Hey!" she calls back. "Need a ride?"

"It's cool I uh. I know you! From the place!"

Heron Club or the Alley, she can't remember where they first met, but they're in the same wolf club or whatever.

[braverycursed]

She's lost in strangling…fixing her truck when a car starts to go by and it isn't until she hears it start to stop that she glances up, the brakes don't sound like they are protesting but the car continues forward, slipping against the icy road this way and that. Briefly she worries she's about to see some poor citizen crash trying to possibly help, but with a jostle this way and that the vehicle finally comes to a halt and a breath she didn't realize she was holding leaves her with a deep exhale. Well that was one problem avoided.

When the window rolls down, she stands a bit taller and squints her eyes as she tries to make out the face inside. She looks vaguely familiar and when she speaks, points out that they know one another she tries to connect the dots. So they've seen her before, the face starts taking shape, she has seen her a couple places so this isn't completely out of the ordinary. If they were in the same spaces, especially The Heron club, that meant they held the same…species? Was she a new species now? That is fucking weird to think about. The problem is she can't for the life of her remember a name.

"Hey…you." She says with a bit of an awkward tone, because not remembering someone's name is kind of fucking rude. Her hand slips from around the, whatever the fuck, and she looks down at her hand, dirty and grease covered, with a grimace before looking back to the blonde.

"That would be appreciated," she finally agrees, looking back at her hand again and wincing as she rubs it on her pant leg. God she hopes that comes out later. Grabbing her keys, locking the door, and slamming the hood down she makes her way over and lets herself into the passenger seat when the door is unlocked, tugging down her face covering. "Seriously, thanks. I think the cold killed my engine. Maybe. I know jack about cars."

[braverycursed]

Where : Somewhere in the downtown district For : Open

"Fuck!" She grunts out, smoke rising from beneath the hood of the truck, booted foot kicking at the front driver's side tire uselessly as frustration and irritation roil beneath her usually calm demeanor. With the moon soon approaching and the shift in the weather and whatever cosmic powers that control this curse, this was the last thing she needed today. The hairs on her arms and back of her neck bristle with the agitation and she gives the tire another kick.

"Pinche puta…" she grumbles under her breath as she moves to lift the hood, ignoring the heat that pricks at her fingers as she hoists it open only gag and cough at the sudden fog of smoke that invades her lungs. "Son of a bitch!" She gasps out in further irritation as she takes a step back only to nearly slip and catch herself just barely on the front of the vehicle. God she hated this fucking storm.

'Hell has officially frozen over' she can't help to think, finally managing to get the hood propped open and with a few more waves of her hand the smoke has dissipated. Eyes narrow as she looks over the engine like she actually knows what she's looking at. She knows the basics, smoke means your fucked. Fire means you're dead. What was it the yappy one had said about like steam caps or something? Did cars even have steam caps?

Maybe if she just smacks the side of the engine…she curses again and kicks the fender before huffing, counting to five in her head before rolling up her sleeves. How hard could this be? Give a few whacks, try to start it again. Like a computer, or a wayward vending machine. She takes a final breath and then moves to lean over the exposed mechanics, grabbing one of the…things and shaking it viciously as if she was strangling something. "Work you bitch ass engine." She grounds out, brow furrowed.