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@hngrylikethewoolf
ERROL WOOLF :: CHARACTER SHEET
Has anyone heard the tales you tell? Or seen the scars you wear? Did anyone speak up when you fell? Does anybody care? Rise again little fighter And let the world know the reason why Shout again little fighter And don't let it impair the things you do And you were one with the courts And a reason to be You were a fighter for peace on this earth And you were never afraid
Five-Star Customer Service || OPEN
"Hi, welcome to the Tipton, how can I help you?"
Sitting at the front desk, June deadpanned the line without looking up from where she was currently scrolling through her phone, trying to keep up with a tennis match. She popped her gum.
[outfit]
@june-von-drake
Errol hadn't really been into the Tipton. Of course, he'd passed it by many a tims in town, but he'd never really been inside. But he had a client staying there – some out-of-towner who'd come into Swynlake for business in NTO and had had his things nicked on the train in.
It was regrettable he hadn't gone to the police – didn't want to 'bother them,' he'd said – and, so, had popped into the PI office, tasked Errol with finding his things, and called every bloody day since.
Pasting on a smile for the front desk girl, a young little blonde thing who looked about how Errol felt for this job, and nods to her. "'Ello, miss. 'M lookin fer one o' yer guests, a Mr. Ian Shreever? S'pose tae meet 'im."
dog gone it || irish luck
CLOSED STARTER FOR @bad-moon--rising
The wolf could smell the other before the man walked around the corner of the market. They'd grown accustomed to scenting people, the man and his wolf, and knew when they were familiar or not, Magick or not.
And this one, for what it was worth, happened to be both.
Clearing his throat, Errol offers a short nod to the younger werewolf, then tries to step around him. When he realizes there isn't room, even out here, he quietly sighs then looks the other full in the face.
"Feel like 's a trick tae run intae ye, even in a small town." He actively avoided, or tried tk avoid, the wolves in this place. He had no want or desire to get involved in territoriality, though his wolf wanted to run, and had done so with Buster.
One problem with having another werewolf as a roommate?
The grocery shopping was never-ending with two appetites that could be especially demanding after full moons and running through the forest. It was the planning ahead weeks before that meant they didn't spend the day after eating takeout that didn't really satisfy much. Especially with Scott; the guy was practically a carnivore the few days leading up to and after the full moon. Lucky was less affected but he'd also been living with the wolfish influence on his moods, self control and hunger his entire life compared to the barely two years Scott had.
So he did a lot of grocery shopping, and they both did a lot of...less than great cooking.
He hadn't even started, paused to pull up his list on his phone, when the other man tried to shuffle past him.
"Oh, hello." Lucky couldn't help but chuckle because he had crossed paths with Errol a few times before and there was a wariness about him that was understandable, but always struck him as a bit unfortunate.
But that was a product of growing up in such a large pack and with community as a sense of comfort; he'd seen so many wolves who had never had the benefit of that security since he'd left home.
"Sooner or later you're bound t'run into everybody 'round here though," Lucky realized he was in the way though and moved to the side to be polite and in part because some wolves were always on edge about feeling cornered in a way he didn't like to upset folks over, "can't say it's not one of th'reasons I like small towns."
@hngrylikethewoolf
@bad-moon--rising
The chuckle earns a faint twitch of his eyebrow upward, head tilting ever-so-slightly to one side. It's not concerned, this movement, nor angry, just...studying. Curious. Errol was just as curious and ever-watchful as his wolf was. A byproduct of his upbringing, perhaps, or his background, his work. It didn't matter abd Errol didn't try to name it. It just was.
With that done, he snorts softly, a concession made, and allows the lad's words to draw a half-grin from his mouth, tugging it up to show the corner of a smile. "Aye. Ye do. An' sometimes at t' least welcome o' times. Nae speakin' 'ere, mind," he says, voice and tone ever-cool, always soft, pitched in a manner that bellied his presence.
The older man steps neatly around the werewolf, pitching his hip slightly into the shelf to knock off the thing he needed into his hand. It took three seconds before it was in his trolley cart and Errol was turned back toward him again.
"I grew up in a small neighborhood. Wasnae very welcomin', though. But ye get used tae it." Eyes stray to the younger man's cart and, seeing all the meat, his grin widens and a dry chuckle escapes.
He figures he knows what it's for – his wolf had a similar craving – and he had much the same, though interspersed with things he refused to shove off for a four-legged little bint (affectionately speaking).
Sometimes he found himself trying to decode the other man's accent. It was the sort of thing that got easier with practice and he really didn't see him more than passing every so often so that practice was severely lacking.
But Lucky always found it interesting. Maybe it was because he had such a strong accent himself and people didn't always seem to get what he was saying either. He felt more inclined to pay attention. It wasn't that difficult, it reminded him a bit of some of the oldest among the pack or the coven who had come from much deeper places in the mountains originally.
He'd also heard stories like that before, one's very different from his own where growing up had felt like belonging rather than trying to fit in, at least not until he had left the sheltering borders of the town he'd known, past even Nashville and further into the world where not everyone had that same opinion.
"Can't say I envy that, home was a lot more like this place," he admitted, knowing how fortunate he was with that, "about the only difference was my pack was quite a bit larger there." Lucky chuckled, because that wasn't such a terrible thing either now that he was the one in charge of that pack; the idea had felt huge and overwhelming when he had known it meant dozens of wolves to keep up with rather than just the sparse few he was supposed to be looking after now.
Some days even that felt an awful lot bigger than himself though.
And he didn't like to mention those things too often anyway, seemed like nearly every wolf he ran across in town was on their own and he could understand when the world wasn't very kind and it was hard to trust people. He'd gone through those years himself and thought he still would be; not having to anymore was a refuge all in itself and not one that everyone had the luxury of so he didn't like to point it out.
@hngrylikethewoolf
@bad-moon--rising
Errol could tell when someone was trying to figure him out, whether it be himself or his accent. Sometimes, lime now, it was amusing. Other times, it was less than so.
"Mine 'ad high crime, smacking t' middle or tail end o' t' Troubles," he offers, cracking a smile. People didn't realize his mother had grown up in it, nor that he'd been influenced by it. But it was a truth that Errol carried with him, always.
"Only pack 've 'as was me family, an' they ain't wolf, jus' our last name," he murmurs, chuckling quietly at the semi-joke of it all. The one who'd turned him had done it because he was dying, and he'd asked. The rest of it, well...he'd not wanted to bother with pack or politics, had wanted to be left alone, particularly until he was out of his job.
And now, well. Now Errol keenly felt it, the alone.
Lone Wolves || Erroux
@roux-clochard
Errol's smirk slants, a bit more comfortable now, into a small smile. Listening to the sound of the man's speech, the way he formed his letters, was an almost wasy thing. It was something Errol could sink into, the familiarity if picking up and picking at accents just to be a tit.
He might not do it now, but he would. It was the kind of accent he'd toy around with, see if he could toss around a bit. But not now.
And not, particularly, after he sees that little bit of tension in the man's shoulders once Errol explains what he had done. He'd expected it, and knew it would land. He still raises a half a hand, a few fingers waving him down almost subtly.
"Nae, not anymore. 'S a younger man's job," he says, grinning outright, now, at his own jest. He takss a drink, then shrugs. "Most o' t' cases me an' me partner took were small town."
He taps a random beat on the side of his glass, gaze tracking the forced grin, the miniscule thread of tension that lingered between his eyes, across the line of his shoulders. The man, he guesses, might have grown up rough, or once was. Perhaps still was, and that was why he was here.
"Grew up in a rough place, worked in a rougher one," he finally says, taking another drink. "Fink ye know what 'm on about, eh? Jus'...easier tae take what I get 'ere, keep me busy."
And, even more so, he was trying to get his family out her, his new niece (fingers crossed, the arseholes hadn't told him the wee one's sex) on the way.
He had not truly been worried that the other wolf would be after him, and now Roux was getting even less concerned after the assurance that he was not in the business anymore. Hearing that he had been concerned with small town cases alleviated his worry even more, since all of his crimes had been committed in pretty good size cities. A small town PI would definitely not have had anything to do with him.
"Ah come on, you seem plenty spry t' me," he teased, feeling much more comfortable in doing so now, "What kinda cases you get in a small town anyway? Someone made off wit' a li'l ol' lady's petunias?"
Roux was not one to commiserate with anyone, but he had to admit he did know what the guy was talking about. "Oui, I know a bit 'bout dat," he said, giving a small shrug, "Dis town's definitely a change from what I'm used t'. Not in a bad way, really. It's jus'…a bit o' an adjustment. Guessin' you like it here, den?"
Plenty of people seemed to like being in town. He did not dislike it, and it did seem to be growing on him, but Roux was still a long ways off from wanting to settle down, if he ever would be.
@hngrylikethewoolf
@roux-clochard
Errol wanted the man at ease. Not, really, for any sense of deception, but it was something he had learned over many decades of work – how to use a soft tone, to make his posture loose, to appear unassuming.
He had been part of the constabulary, yes. He has also been special forces. He had also worked with k-9s. There was a lot he knew and, yes, a lot he did not.
But he knew this: he didn't always want people nervous around him. Sometimes, he just wanted a conversation.
The teasing from the other man lands, and Errol chuckles, grin briefly going crooked as he tilts his glass in a small toast. "Missin' cats an' house burglaries, mostly," he says, the lie rolling smooth off his tongue.
It was only mostly a lie, after all. He did get those kinds of cases, but they weren't his only ones.
"Aye. More or less." He liked it better when he didn't feel loneliness gnawing at him, but that was neither here nor there. That was not the kind of conversation he would be having in a bar. "Ye? Adjustin', or still figurin' it all out?"
read all about it || eress
@notbad-justsungthatway
Errol had wondered, admittedly, who the little girl was he could smell on the woman. It wasn't his place, he wasn't going to ask, but the name slotted neatly into his brain for he and the wolf. Penny. Family, friend. Someone to care about, if they were allowed to.
He doesn't say anything of this, though, doesn't ever know how to articulate himself when it comes to the wolf and Jess. But Errol grins, and it's soft around the edges, lopsided in a way that was less putting something on, more sincere.
"I'll let 'er know. Stubborn wee fing, always 'as been," he huffs, shaking his head, fingers going through his curls. A nervous tick, if anything was.
But his gaze finds her face, brow furrowing as he tilts his head, confused for a moment before it dawnson him. "Bring 'er, if ye wanna. Or tae t' office, if ye need. Any time. Jus' call. An' 'fore ye say no: 'Elped raise Lilian when me sister was deployed, so 'til she was 'bout three consistently. If ye need someone else, ever, I'll take 'er."
And he would, in a heartbeat. Errol didn’t even need to think about it, nor did his wolf. And he knew Jessica didn't understand, that she'd always been a bit stand-offish with his job, and perhaps even with his status now, he didn't know, but...he didn't want her to think she was alone.
This was, he thinks, what that gnawing feeling in his chest was. The wolf. Pack.
Jess just smiled. "A family trait I think." After all, Errol could be more than a little stubborn when he was fixed on a particular idea. It had stood him well in much of his life - but she was still going to tease him about it.
Sure, she could be stubborn herself, but she was generally less obvious about it. She bent like a willow, appearing to give in, and then letting the problems pass by leaving her standing in the wake.
His offer is sweet but she merely chuckled. "I appreciate it, but I'm not bringing a toddler to a self defense class." Not without a designated baby sitter. It would be far too easy for her to wander into the middle of the session and actually get hurt. Or worse, she'd practice exactly what she was seeing in the class and end up punching her cousin, not realizing she'd done something wrong.
This age was a dangerous one for kids as they often emulated everything they saw.
"But I'll let you know if we do end up needing another babysitter this summer. We'll have to see if you can come over for dinner sometime soon so she can get to know you a little better."
@hngrylikethewoolf
@notbad-justsungthatway
A family trait I think.
Errol grumbles under his breath, huffing at her, but doesn't argue. She wasn't entirely wrong. He, his sister, and the rest of their family were remarkably stubborn. It was both am endearing trait and a taxing one.
Jessica's quiet chuckle drags him back, eyes snapping forward again, and a bemused smile curls around his own mouth. "Ach, well, we cannae 'ave that. We'll figure it out, if ye still wanna."
Because he did think it would be a good thing, for them both, to get back into something like this again.
But, hell, it's be painfully endearing to see a little one like Penny at the classes.
Errol nods at the close, shifting in his chair before surprise laces his features. Sometimes he didn't really think he'd be welcome, and not just because of what he now was. After leaving, he'd somehow gotten it into his head he was a nuisance.
"'M free whenever ye need, really. Can move shite around easy enough. For dinner or sittin'."
read all about it || eress
@notbad-justsungthatway
Jess nods, tracking what he's saying. She's quiet, but it isn't abnormal, isn't the kind of silence meant to be filled - it's the kind of silence that meant calibration.
Errol had always appreciated that about her.
"Aye," he says, a small grin appearing, a short nod, "I fink so, too. Give another option fer people. Right now 'm finkin' maybe twice monthly, but 's flexible. Me sister's havin' a second baby. Due any day now, this month. Lil' girl, so 'm gonna be movin' between 'ere an' them fer a tick."
And that didn't account for his investigation work that he'd taken up in Perry's absence - the little hole it made, and which he was slowly refilling with work while he restructured around it.
"But I'd...if yer wantin' tae, or can, I'd 'ppreciate yer 'elp. Ye bein' 'ere." A lopsided grin, now, almost hesitant, but real, and says in a mix of teasing tone and sincerity, "Dunno if I can do it wifout me favorite body bag tae drag around."
"Congratulations to your sister! Oh Errol, that's wonderful. If she needs anything, let me know all right? I'm fairly certain I still have Penny's baby clothes around, and I'd be happy to box those up for her to take."
It felt a little strange at her stage of life to be talking about babies and baby clothes like that, but it was true. It'd be nice to share what she could.
But mentioning Penny also brought about the problem.
"It sounds wonderful, but I might have to think about it - just to see how it works out with the timing. I'm already having to lean on Nick a lot for babysitting, and summer tends to mean even longer hours. She's still just so young at this stage and with everything with Elemaran...its been a tough year."
@hngrylikethewoolf
@notbad-justsungthatway
Errol had wondered, admittedly, who the little girl was he could smell on the woman. It wasn't his place, he wasn't going to ask, but the name slotted neatly into his brain for he and the wolf. Penny. Family, friend. Someone to care about, if they were allowed to.
He doesn't say anything of this, though, doesn't ever know how to articulate himself when it comes to the wolf and Jess. But Errol grins, and it's soft around the edges, lopsided in a way that was less putting something on, more sincere.
"I'll let 'er know. Stubborn wee fing, always 'as been," he huffs, shaking his head, fingers going through his curls. A nervous tick, if anything was.
But his gaze finds her face, brow furrowing as he tilts his head, confused for a moment before it dawnson him. "Bring 'er, if ye wanna. Or tae t' office, if ye need. Any time. Jus' call. An' 'fore ye say no: 'Elped raise Lilian when me sister was deployed, so 'til she was 'bout three consistently. If ye need someone else, ever, I'll take 'er."
And he would, in a heartbeat. Errol didn’t even need to think about it, nor did his wolf. And he knew Jessica didn't understand, that she'd always been a bit stand-offish with his job, and perhaps even with his status now, he didn't know, but...he didn't want her to think she was alone.
This was, he thinks, what that gnawing feeling in his chest was. The wolf. Pack.
Lone Wolves || Erroux
@roux-clochard
"Nae, most people dunna, 's alright, lad," he says, the tone neither overly friendly nor overly familiar, but there's a hint of a grin to the words, something almost cheeky to them. "But yer right tae say 'ere's too many, 'cause 'ere is."
And it was true. There were far too many accents in Swynlake. Sometimes it was hard to keep up with them all, let alone decipher them.
"Mmm, it was. 's where t' Americans get that fuckin' drink name from," he murmurs, rolling his eyes, the tinge of anger in his tone long since beat to death.
A beat pauses him at the question, wondering how quickly the man would shut down if he admitted all he did. It was highly likely, and something he was unfortunately fairly used to. But, for once, he wanted to keep prodding.
Errol takes a sip of his drink and rolls his shoulders. "T' constabulary, private investigatin' now. Technically retirement, but 'm goin' stir sittin' 'round." At the other man's (wolf's) answer, Errol nods, then leans back, head tilting as he assesses the man. He spoke the truth, nothing giving him away, but it was vague.
Roux was familiar with a melting pot of accents, having been born and bred in a place which was a literal gumbo pot of cultures. But he would never have thought that a small town in England would have just as varied of a group of accents and cultures. Yet another thing which was surprising him about this place and making him think twice about writing it off.
"Oui, dere's a lot more'n I thought dere would be. Guess I'm jus' gonna hafta try an' keep up wit' dem!" What he had heard about the Troubles indicated that it probably was not something this guy would want to dwell on, and he nodded, hopefully indicating that he was sorry for what had gone on.
Hearing what the other wolf did for a living made Roux tense just the slightest bit. But he had said he was now a private detective instead of with the constabulary, which made him a little less concerned. A PI would only bother coming after him if someone had hired them to do it, after all, so he most likely did not have anything to worry about. Especially when the guy said he was technically retired.
"Oh I bet sittin' 'round gets borin'. You prob'ly wanna get out dere an' chase more bad guys, huh?" His smile was just a tiny bit forced, not wanting to admit to the other wolf that there was a bad guy for him to chase right in front of him.
@hngrylikethewoolf
@roux-clochard
Errol's smirk slants, a bit more comfortable now, into a small smile. Listening to the sound of the man's speech, the way he formed his letters, was an almost wasy thing. It was something Errol could sink into, the familiarity if picking up and picking at accents just to be a tit.
He might not do it now, but he would. It was the kind of accent he'd toy around with, see if he could toss around a bit. But not now.
And not, particularly, after he sees that little bit of tension in the man's shoulders once Errol explains what he had done. He'd expected it, and knew it would land. He still raises a half a hand, a few fingers waving him down almost subtly.
"Nae, not anymore. 'S a younger man's job," he says, grinning outright, now, at his own jest. He takss a drink, then shrugs. "Most o' t' cases me an' me partner took were small town."
He taps a random beat on the side of his glass, gaze tracking the forced grin, the miniscule thread of tension that lingered between his eyes, across the line of his shoulders. The man, he guesses, might have grown up rough, or once was. Perhaps still was, and that was why he was here.
"Grew up in a rough place, worked in a rougher one," he finally says, taking another drink. "Fink ye know what 'm on about, eh? Jus'...easier tae take what I get 'ere, keep me busy."
And, even more so, he was trying to get his family out her, his new niece (fingers crossed, the arseholes hadn't told him the wee one's sex) on the way.
read all about it || eress
Jess nodded as Errol began to speak, taking a sip of her drink. The first piece of news was one she was familiar with, and she'd had inklings about the second. After all, Perry had helped her on a case of her own not long before and she was still fond of him.
This would hopefully be a good way for Errol to keep busy. He wasn't built for early retirement like that.
The last statement was much more surprising.
"Oh wow." Her first instinct was to say yes. After all, she and Errol had been running those classes together for years. She loved them.
But. Her life was a lot more complicated now.
"I think that sounds like a wonderful idea Errol! What kind of schedule are you looking at for this?"
@hngrylikethewoolf
@notbad-justsungthatway
Jess nods, tracking what he's saying. She's quiet, but it isn't abnormal, isn't the kind of silence meant to be filled - it's the kind of silence that meant calibration.
Errol had always appreciated that about her.
"Aye," he says, a small grin appearing, a short nod, "I fink so, too. Give another option fer people. Right now 'm finkin' maybe twice monthly, but 's flexible. Me sister's havin' a second baby. Due any day now, this month. Lil' girl, so 'm gonna be movin' between 'ere an' them fer a tick."
And that didn't account for his investigation work that he'd taken up in Perry's absence - the little hole it made, and which he was slowly refilling with work while he restructured around it.
"But I'd...if yer wantin' tae, or can, I'd 'ppreciate yer 'elp. Ye bein' 'ere." A lopsided grin, now, almost hesitant, but real, and says in a mix of teasing tone and sincerity, "Dunno if I can do it wifout me favorite body bag tae drag around."
Lone Wolves || Erroux
Ah, so he was Irish, then. Roux felt like he should have realized that. He was not all that bad at deciphering accents, and he was not too bad at mimicking his share. But around here, he heard a lot more different ones than he had expected, and it seemed that was making him lose some of his touch with guessing them.
"Sorry, I prob'ly shoulda recognized de accent. Guess dere's jus' so many different ones I been hearin' lately dat it's throwin' me off. But I do think I heard a bit 'bout de Troubles, yeah. Don' know too much 'bout it, but I know it wasn't good."
Several people now had told him that he would get used to the town, even to the point of choosing not to leave. Roux still was highly skeptical of that, but if it had happened to a fair amount of others, then he could not completely ignore the law of averages either. "For work, huh? What you do for work, den?"
He contemplated his answer for a moment, then finally said, "A change o' scenery, you might say. Wasn't really feelin' my previous place o' residence, an' dis seemed as good a place as any t' start over. An' so far, dat seems like a pretty accurate assessment."
@hngrylikethewoolf
@roux-clochard
"Nae, most people dunna, 's alright, lad," he says, the tone neither overly friendly nor overly familiar, but there's a hint of a grin to the words, something almost cheeky to them. "But yer right tae say 'ere's too many, 'cause 'ere is."
And it was true. There were far too many accents in Swynlake. Sometimes it was hard to keep up with them all, let alone decipher them.
"Mmm, it was. 's where t' Americans get that fuckin' drink name from," he murmurs, rolling his eyes, the tinge of anger in his tone long since beat to death.
A beat pauses him at the question, wondering how quickly the man would shut down if he admitted all he did. It was highly likely, and something he was unfortunately fairly used to. But, for once, he wanted to keep prodding.
Errol takes a sip of his drink and rolls his shoulders. "T' constabulary, private investigatin' now. Technically retirement, but 'm goin' stir sittin' 'round." At the other man's (wolf's) answer, Errol nods, then leans back, head tilting as he assesses the man. He spoke the truth, nothing giving him away, but it was vague.
read all about it || eress
@notbad-justsungthatway
Jessica relaxes back into her seat at his entrance, a smile on her face. It makes Errol relax, as well, shoulders falling to lay flat away from his ears, the wolf stirring uneasily in his chest at the prospect of being unwelcome here falling silent.
His own smile widens, just a tick, before he nods. Shouldering the door closed witb a soft snick! behind him, Errol comes forward enough to set her drink down on the edge of her desk, label toward her.
When he sits, he crosses his legs, one arm draped over the side, the other balancing his take away cup on a knee.
"Well. Few places tae start. But aye, been busy, 'at's too right. Which d'ye wanna 'ear first, sides 's good tae see ye?"
The coffee is a bit of a surprise, although she welcomed it. As much as she tried not to become too reliant on caffeine, the combination of managing a night club and trying to keep up with a toddler was beginning to show.
Trust Errol to remember her drink. He was good at details like that.
"How will I know which one I want to hear until I hear them all? I think you'd better get started and then I can tell you my favorite afterward." But after that teasing statement, she softened slightly. "it's good to see you too."
@hngrylikethewoolf
@notbad-justsungthatway
How will I know which one I want to hear? Better get started.
That was just like Jessica, really, and it abuses him. It makes him chuckle, even, something Errol finds he doesn't always do easily when he's just on his own.
"Well, alright 'en. Retired officially, which ye prob'ly figured, but I've taken up at Flynn's since he's gone. Not officially or anyfin', but –"
A shrug, as casual as he could make it. It was still odd, for him and the wolf both, nkt to find the gangly detective in a place where his scent still haunted it.
"Second is 'm tryin' tae reintroduce self defense at t' university an, if yer interested, was wonderin' if ye'd run it wif me. 'S an open invitation, but figured I'd ask it."
dog gone it || irish luck
CLOSED STARTER FOR @bad-moon--rising
The wolf could smell the other before the man walked around the corner of the market. They'd grown accustomed to scenting people, the man and his wolf, and knew when they were familiar or not, Magick or not.
And this one, for what it was worth, happened to be both.
Clearing his throat, Errol offers a short nod to the younger werewolf, then tries to step around him. When he realizes there isn't room, even out here, he quietly sighs then looks the other full in the face.
"Feel like 's a trick tae run intae ye, even in a small town." He actively avoided, or tried tk avoid, the wolves in this place. He had no want or desire to get involved in territoriality, though his wolf wanted to run, and had done so with Buster.
One problem with having another werewolf as a roommate?
The grocery shopping was never-ending with two appetites that could be especially demanding after full moons and running through the forest. It was the planning ahead weeks before that meant they didn't spend the day after eating takeout that didn't really satisfy much. Especially with Scott; the guy was practically a carnivore the few days leading up to and after the full moon. Lucky was less affected but he'd also been living with the wolfish influence on his moods, self control and hunger his entire life compared to the barely two years Scott had.
So he did a lot of grocery shopping, and they both did a lot of...less than great cooking.
He hadn't even started, paused to pull up his list on his phone, when the other man tried to shuffle past him.
"Oh, hello." Lucky couldn't help but chuckle because he had crossed paths with Errol a few times before and there was a wariness about him that was understandable, but always struck him as a bit unfortunate.
But that was a product of growing up in such a large pack and with community as a sense of comfort; he'd seen so many wolves who had never had the benefit of that security since he'd left home.
"Sooner or later you're bound t'run into everybody 'round here though," Lucky realized he was in the way though and moved to the side to be polite and in part because some wolves were always on edge about feeling cornered in a way he didn't like to upset folks over, "can't say it's not one of th'reasons I like small towns."
@hngrylikethewoolf
@bad-moon--rising
The chuckle earns a faint twitch of his eyebrow upward, head tilting ever-so-slightly to one side. It's not concerned, this movement, nor angry, just...studying. Curious. Errol was just as curious and ever-watchful as his wolf was. A byproduct of his upbringing, perhaps, or his background, his work. It didn't matter abd Errol didn't try to name it. It just was.
With that done, he snorts softly, a concession made, and allows the lad's words to draw a half-grin from his mouth, tugging it up to show the corner of a smile. "Aye. Ye do. An' sometimes at t' least welcome o' times. Nae speakin' 'ere, mind," he says, voice and tone ever-cool, always soft, pitched in a manner that bellied his presence.
The older man steps neatly around the werewolf, pitching his hip slightly into the shelf to knock off the thing he needed into his hand. It took three seconds before it was in his trolley cart and Errol was turned back toward him again.
"I grew up in a small neighborhood. Wasnae very welcomin', though. But ye get used tae it." Eyes stray to the younger man's cart and, seeing all the meat, his grin widens and a dry chuckle escapes.
He figures he knows what it's for – his wolf had a similar craving – and he had much the same, though interspersed with things he refused to shove off for a four-legged little bint (affectionately speaking).
dog gone it || irish luck
CLOSED STARTER FOR @bad-moon--rising
The wolf could smell the other before the man walked around the corner of the market. They'd grown accustomed to scenting people, the man and his wolf, and knew when they were familiar or not, Magick or not.
And this one, for what it was worth, happened to be both.
Clearing his throat, Errol offers a short nod to the younger werewolf, then tries to step around him. When he realizes there isn't room, even out here, he quietly sighs then looks the other full in the face.
"Feel like 's a trick tae run intae ye, even in a small town." He actively avoided, or tried tk avoid, the wolves in this place. He had no want or desire to get involved in territoriality, though his wolf wanted to run, and had done so with Buster.
dog gone it || irish luck
Cave Canem - Berrol
"It seems he has a particular playbook," Basil smirked, running his fingers over his lips for a few moments, still intrigued about what had brought this man to Perry in the first place... and why Perry had seen something that he liked about Errol, for that matter. But, perhaps like the very best of mysteries, he took a little time to unfold himself.
"Still, it helps you see the very best." The things that set Perry apart would have been far harder to spot if he had not been at work at the time.
An unassuming nature that had to be an asset in their line of work.
"Well, I suppose if I'm not going to catch him, I'd better leave you to your work," Basil added, glancing around as if he expected Perry to suddenly burst out of the woodwork or something. Funnily enough, he did not.
There was no sense overstaying his welcome, after all.
@hngrylikethewoolf
@basil-of-benbow
It seems he has a particular playbook.
Errol hums, nods a bit, but gives a non-answer. He doesn't really think this man exactly needs one, now, does he? Not for this, anyway. At the second statement, the Irishman nods, because that was true. He had seen Perry at his best, which meant that he'd seen exactly what he could do and, at the time, what he could offer the cases that he needed help with.
"Aye. An' tank ye kindly fer 'at," he says, a sketch of a grin pulling out his mouth. Errol doesn't hold out his hand. He doubts the man will take it, anyway. He simply nods, then murmurs, quieter than before, "I'll make sure tae tell 'im ye stopped by."
Lone Wolves || Erroux
He was not quite sure what to make of the other wolf just yet. Roux was always cautious and observant around others, even before being turned, so now he simply applied that approach doubly when it came to other wolves. But he also enjoyed getting to talk to people with his being a bartender, and he was no less interested in talking to another wolf than he would be with anyone else.
"Ah pardon, mon frere. I can't 'zactly tell de difference 'tween de accents 'round here. I only been in town for a li'l while, so I don' quite have my bearin's yet." He had his bearings enough by now. He just was not sure how long he would need to employ them.
The announcement of how long the guy had been there made Roux stare in shock. "Almost a decade? Mon Dieu, guess you really like de place, huh? Can't say I've gotten all dat attached. It's nice an' all, but I'm more used t' de big city. It takes a bit o' adjustin' bein' in a small town."
@hngrylikethewoolf
@roux-clochard
The accent goes in an ear, gets translated, and then knocks around in his brain a minute before he speaks, making a bemused grin curl around Errol's face. "Eh, 's alright. Nae 'arm done. 'M Irish, technically. Dublin born an' bred. Me mam grew up speakin' Gaelige before t' Troubles, if ye know what all o' 'at is."
Some didn't. A lot of people from America barely knew who the Irish were sometimes, as a distinct people away from the Scottish or the Brits, but Errol wasn't here to speak on politicking or their lack thereof.
He just wanted a bloody drink.
The shock, though, makes the older man bark out a laugh, tipping his glass toward the man in mock-toast. "Aye. Ye get used tae t' place, takes a lil' time, though. Originally, 's jus' fer work."
Taking a sip from the glass, he lets it hang loose from his fingers, arm draping casually across the bar stool beside him - both so someone did not sit there, and so he could stretch out a stiff arm - and tilts his head, studying the man momentarily. "An' ye? Why're ye 'ere?"
read all about it || eress
@notbad-justsungthatway
The invitation came, so Errol takes it, twisting the knob to Jess's office door before shouldering it open.
And there Jessica is, seated at her desk, professional as ever.
"Well lookit ye, lassie. Sight fer sore eyes," he jokes, an apology in the curve of his half grin. "Brought a peace offerin', an apology, an' an offer, seein' as 's been a bit."
The door opened and its Errol standing there. Almost instantly, she relaxed and smiled up at him. It was a surprise, but a welcome one. She could pause in her work for the moment.
"You've certainly been keeping yourself busy. Come on in. You have me curious now with all these different options on the table."
The chair across from her desk was comfortable in dark colors and she gestured towards him to come in and take a seat.
@hngrylikethewoolf
@notbad-justsungthatway
Jessica relaxes back into her seat at his entrance, a smile on her face. It makes Errol relax, as well, shoulders falling to lay flat away from his ears, the wolf stirring uneasily in his chest at the prospect of being unwelcome here falling silent.
His own smile widens, just a tick, before he nods. Shouldering the door closed witb a soft snick! behind him, Errol comes forward enough to set her drink down on the edge of her desk, label toward her.
When he sits, he crosses his legs, one arm draped over the side, the other balancing his take away cup on a knee.
"Well. Few places tae start. But aye, been busy, 'at's too right. Which d'ye wanna 'ear first, sides 's good tae see ye?"
read all about it || eress
CLOSED STARTER FOR @notbad-justsungthatway
Errol hadn't been to the Court in a minute. Not, mind, because he had Jessica had had a falling out, but because life had grown busier and busier. Plans changed hands and, then, he'd been away for a month. Had gone out of country with Perry for a case just before that.
Little by little they'd slipped into pleasantries by telephone but not in person. Errol was here, proverbial hat in hand, with an apology and a peace offering – coffee, if she'd take it, and an offer to start up their self defense classes again, to update her on, well, everything.
Once he gets access to the place and persuades the front to let him back to her office, Errol shifts the second cup to balance and raps on the door with his knuckles, calling quietly out.
It was still early for the Court, before they were open to the public, but Jess was doing her best to get through as much of her work as she could. Tomorrow she would need to wake up early in order to spend more time with Penny which meant she needed to leave as soon as the last performance was done.
Her schedule was so much trickier these days, and she was starting to feel the pressure.
When the knock came at the door, she looked up in surprise. None of her employees would bother to knock, and it was the very rare person that Jared and Desoto allowed back here these days. "Come in."
@hngrylikethewoolf
@notbad-justsungthatway
The invitation came, so Errol takes it, twisting the knob to Jess's office door before shouldering it open.
And there Jessica is, seated at her desk, professional as ever.
"Well lookit ye, lassie. Sight fer sore eyes," he jokes, an apology in the curve of his half grin. "Brought a peace offerin', an apology, an' an offer, seein' as 's been a bit."
