The Echevarrias have been in Port Leiry since 20s, at the end of a long haul whereby their pack, the Metztli, were slowly pushed north starting in the mid 1880s after Hunters were brought in by the local populations of the Tecate border region to push them out. Eventually, the Metztli and their witch-wives, a coven called Cuetlāchtlicihuatl, were absorbed into the various communities within Port Leiry's blooming supernatural societal infrastructure. Yuisa's grandfather was killed in his bid to challenge the Warwick alpha of the times and the Metztli joined their ranks.
A couple generations, some patricide and fratricide, and plenty of muscle later, and Yuisa stands, the head of her remaining family, running rackets out of Port Leiry's dockyards districts from a dingy bar called the Portside. Nothing goes in or out of Port Leiry's shipping lanes without her getting a whiff of it, putting her in a unique position, one that's powerful, but obviously not quite the most secure. She challenged her own father for control of this tiny empire, killing him to earn the triumph and respect of his people, and stepping into his role as a second mind for the Warwick Alpha.
Years later and she feels Warwick and the werewolf community of the city have grown largely and dangerously complacent, pointing to their lack of involvement in the wider running of the city and the continued existence of Harford pack as evidence of this. She plays the part of a loyal wolf to Marcia Cruz, but she has never been afraid of expressing her points of dissension, which makes her word as valuable and trustworthy as the muscle and money she provides.
Yuisa Echevarria (She/Her)
“Private Security”
36 Years Old
Lesbian
Warwick Werewolf
Born in Port Leiry
++ Cunning, Ardent, Strong, Charismatic
- - Ruthless, Judgemental, Violent, Vicious
Other Species:
Vampires: Necessary evil that we work with them sometimes - use the connections and resources they offer, never trust them, and off them when given the opportunity to do so.
Witches: Largely innocuous if left to their own devices; like vampires they’re best treated as useful idiots where appropriate and best discarded.
Mutt Wolves: The Runoff of wolves who don’t know how to secure the kill. Unworthy of pretty much anything except being put out of their misery. Play nice with them in public of course, but never hesitate to let them know that they aren’t welcome or wanted.
Humans: Meat and Money. Useful for filling the coffers or the belly of the Wolf.
Hunters: Spiced Meat. Convenient guns to be aimed at others.
Other Packs:
Warwick: The Pack is her mother. The Pack is her father. She respects no authority but the gnashing fangs of the Alpha. She supports the Warwick alpha by ensuring the pack is paid proper respect and its purity is maintained. She puts the pack before everything though, and that includes the Alpha.
Cerberus: A miserable pile of mongrels,led by wizzened wolfs who lead by merit of little other than age like the rest of their feckless web of packs. While Yuisa has no specific reason to hate Cerberus beyond pack politics and a genuine disrespect for mutt wolves, she exercises little to no caution or tact around the stink of their pack ranks.
Harford: If Cerberus is an annoying little pack of mistakes, Harford is Warwick’s personal shame. The family should have been shredded into nothing but meat before it had the chance to find safety and redoubt enough to become its own full-fledged, motley pack. She thinks Warwick needs to be more aggressive in correcting Harford’s existence.
Eventide: A bunch of weirdo lycanthrope hippies in their weird little lycanthrope hippy communes. She’d agree with them more if they had standards for who they took into their pack, but both the presence of mutt-wolves and an Alpha who she views as, far, far too gentle prevents the development of anything she could even begin to call respect. Genuinely just assumes they’ll be wiped out by one thing or another within a few years.
Connects:
You could run into Yuisa if:
Family: The Echevarria family took a plummet in recent years; Yuisa killing bother her father and older brother during her move to sieze power, and her younger sister fleeing into Harford, allowed to live only for the appeal of her younger brother, the only sibling Yuisa still has with whom she cares to interact. The siblings' mother is a estranged and anonymous witch, likely somewhere among the Phial or Garnett, who can trace her legacy back to the Cuetlāchtlicihuatl witch coven.
Criminal element: Whether you're inside Yuisa's trusted inner circle (Warwick only) or one of the various dealersl, fences, or witches she deals with in the day to day operation of her small but potent operation, things are likely a tense and terse mix of respect or intimidation. Yuisa is not afraid to get her hands dirty if people within this circle of hers jeopardize things.
Local Law: Her actions are somewhat shielded by a handful of contacts inside of the PLPD, and it's one of the few ways in which she is willing to prostrate herself to anyone outside of the Warwick Alpha, but rest assured that the ball she plays with any Port Leiry cop is going to be on the assumption of mutually assured destruction if things ever sour.
Other Wolves: If you're not Warwick, she might want to recruit you unless you're a Mutt (turned wolf), in which case things take two paths, violent or dismissive, depending on the situation. She harbors an essentially intense hatred for Harford Pack, however, and is not above simply picking fights with them in or out of Warform.
Vampires: Vampires control a lot of Port Leiry's underbelly, but Yuisa and her people control the Ports, making interfacing between mandatory so long as it is mutually beneficial.
Witches: It's 50/50 on if she gives you the time of day - if she likes you, sure, there's maybe even friendship potential there; her family's respect for witches boils down to the idea that breeding with them creates stronger wolves, and so Yuisa is in an interesting position as somebody who has no real desire produce any sort of scion.
Since the fight, he hadn't seen much of Yuisa. Which was to be expected, really. It wasn't as if he'd gone out of his way to check in - but it was time. He missed his fucking friend. His best friend. When she was leader, he'd done his best to support her up until it became dangerous for him to do so.
When he arrives at her home, he lets himself in with a spare key and a six pack of beer hanging from his fingers, and a bag of takeout tucked under his arm. "Yui. It's Anish." He calls, flipping a light switch on to illuminate the main entrance. How many times had he come here to help her plan strategy, to figure out how to oust Harford, to find the best way to get their goods to push Warwick supremacy?
He sets the beer on the first surface he runs into, and makes his way further into the house. "I brought us some beer and some chow."
Not the docks, not the shipping yard, not The Portisde, and certainly not Warwick. One doesn't go to the hospital, not after your arm's torn off. Not after you're stuck in some strange half-state between woman and beast, where any paramedic that might try to help you might wind up torn apart.
No, she had skulked off to lick her wounds in private, and those wounds were deep and grievous. If Anish had come to her house in those early days, he'd have found nothing. Today he doesn't.
"Fuck off," She says when she hears him skulking about.
She sits, slouched in an old chair, staring at an empty fireplace, and her head cants towards him as he darkens the way into the room. Beer won't do much, as the place is littered with empty bottles, and she's already got one cradled against her, clenched in the arm he's left her with. It's hard to keep up with, drowning your worries, when your body seems to burn through anything you give it in short order, but she's managed; she's no blood-sucker, after all.
When Anish doesn't heed her, but steps in, and doubles down, Yuisa stays where she is. "Go away, Anish." She says - petulant, drunk, whinging. "I don't want your fucking kibble."
His paws leave the ground and his answer is a yelping whimper, fear overtaking his instincts as he's thrown. Anish scrambles and scrambles to get footing, and then he realizes what Yuisa is doing - not only is she trying to use something else to kill him, she's angering the rest of the crowd. Shaking his head, he plants his feet as the propeller whirs to life, slow at first.
Still somewhat dazed, he backs up, playing into the fear while she howls. Her paw swipes towards him again, and that's when he strikes - teeth latching into her wrist, and he wrenches his head back, feeling something crack and pull. If she cheats, then so will he -
He pulls.
And pulls.
It's hard to angle it, but he wrenches her arm into the propeller, watching it tear into her arm, slicing it just enough over the tattoo to where he can do the rest and tear the arm completely from its socket.
Arm in his mouth, he leaps out of the boat and back to the circle, parading around the edge with his prize.
She snarls when she feels teeth dig into her forearm, and her head snaps back at him, brows furrowing as they engage in a tugging match, both of their paws stumbling as they try to maneuver each other into death. Yuisa's feet slip though, her balance off in a stance she doesn't understand, and by the time she feels the wrenching jerk of being caught in machinery, it's like a sudden rush of cold washes over her as the snap of tension sends her flying back, snarling and flailing as deep read sprays across the snow and sand.
Her body ripples as the tattoo's magic, severed from the rest of her, the furry, humanoid claw dangling from Anish's jaw twitching as she feels the shift pushing her forward, her body snapping and twisting into its monstrous shape, no longer the halfway marriage of forms.
Yuisa is stunned and dazed, wracked with pain from the slingshot speed of a broken shapeshift but also from the white-hot fire of a severed arm.
For all Anish's prancing and her struggling, the crowd has grown silent, shaken, shocked. The world sways in her vision as she bleeds and bleeds - her stomach twists in knots as she feels her control slipping - no moon tonight means this is not her natural state, and as she tries to carry herself towards the assembled Warwicks and their other onlookers, she plants her face into the beach with a stumble, chest heaving as her heart races and confusion settles over the wrinkles of her thoughts.
She pulls herself forward with one arm before she rolls over onto her back - suddenly numb, not just freezing.
The clouds are low, she notes, as she hears the assembled werewolves begin mumbling among themselves. Words pass through the foggy filter of her mind.
The dark wolf looks up at Yuisa's half form, and there is a trickle of fear in his eyes. He will have to be smart, not just strong - and that is where he excels against her. She is all brute force, brute strength, and he takes the time to assess, to plan. Paws cling to snowy sand, and he answers her howl with one of his own, it getting cut short by large clawed hands.
The claws slash at his side, but he runs into her space, weaving between her legs. He can't slash like her. But he can bite. And chew. And tear.
His teeth latch onto one of her legs when he slips behind her, trying to avoid that large maw and the knife-like hands that grab at him. He's large, but she's larger. Wrenching his head away, he tears at the flesh to bring her down low, and runs away from her regardless of the outcome. She will slow down eventually. He just needs to outlast her.
They grapple, and she has the upperhand, standing on two legs, twisting to guard herself. But a werewolf is a quick beast, and Anish evades her grip enough to snap at her calf, which elicits a snarling yawp of pain and sends her to all fours with a snarl.
Anish bolts away, but Yuisa digs claws into the snow and sand and launches herself fowards, closing the gap between them in a single maniac pounce. This time, she lands a hand on the sway in his back, curling her claws around him and heaving him a dozen feet through the air into the side of an old beached trawler boat, loud enough that the steel bangs like a gong, eliciting a wave of reactions from those walking as she stalks towards him.
Closing the distance between the stunned wolf, she doesn't immediately go for Anish, but for the cab of the boat itself, bursting a hand through broken glass and pulling levers until the dying old thing's engine roils begrudgingly to life, the propellar blade a few feet behind Anish rumbling on to a blender's whir.
It's then Yuisa stalks towards Anish, reaching for the wolf's scruff as the crowd realizes what's happening.
"Yuisa cheats!" One of them shouts.
"Tooth or claw! That ain't how it's done! That ain't the old blood!" Another salty old wolf hoots.
"Get up, Ani'!" Comes another cry from the crowd.
The jeering stops her in her tracks as she reaches for his dazed state, and she bellows a howl at the crowd that seems to make the whole pack shrink back.
[text msg to: colt mercer] There's important wolf stuff happening today, down by the piers. You can come, but keep your distance. I might not walk away from it. There's a lot of things to say and I don't know how, but I'm promising you I'll do my best to make sure we can have however many long talks and nights together.
[text msg to: autumn howell] I'm challenging her today. Keep distance, but you're allowed to watch. Tell Liam, but there's no expectation.
The rest of the pack circles them, holding them so they can't escape. It's a fight to the death - it always is - and Anish has never once considered that it'd be him in this circle. First is the change, and he says not a word to her when she confirms what brings the end of this. He doesn't know who's watching him, but here under the moonlight in the middle of deep snow - he hopes that they support him through this.
The members of the pack seem conflicted as she shifts. Anish's legs crack beneath him, and the shift is quick as he pulls himself into the pain allowing it to wash over him - but Yuisa has always been faster.
Legs, then face, then his rib cage - all he can care about right now is Warwick because if he thinks about his family or Colt, then it's over. Fangs push through his teeth, cracking through his skull as it shifts and elongates and the pain ripples through his body over and over again until he's standing before them a large, shaggy wolf growling up at Yuisa.
It's a fucking insult, that she sees outsiders runts here from Cerberus - Anish and Matteo's little pet projects. Maybe, when Anish is dead, she'll have them pulled in, to make the case clear - turned wolves are a blight, fit only to put out of their misery.
Tonight makes her think of a night, years in the rearview now; she and Matteo Lazkano, renewed in their fervor, talking about Warwick's future in a cabin in the woods. She'd trusted in the process back then. She'd had a clear goal back then. Get her sister back, ensure she stayed quiet. Of course, she'd never said that. It had been all pride and true blood and restoring Warwick to its former greatness.
Best laid plans.
It doesn't matter. Anish's blood on the sand will water the fields enough. She might even have them waltz into the other territories tonight, as a fun exercise in playful destruction.
Their shifts begin in full; two trueborns with no qualms with what they are, giving themselves form and function over to their true natures. But where Anish's turn is quick, hers only seems to slow, the sigil inked on her bicep months prior by a Lindon witch glowing its magical gleam as she seems to stop - something long and wiry-muscled, shoulders and seams lined with wiry black fur like Anishes, her mottled half-beast skin gleaming with sweat below her.
Human feet crackle and human fingers flex, half wolf with their padded tips and vicious claws, at the end of long, gangly arms, a form meant for four legs standing immense on only two. The wolf smiles, it's jaws clacking kipping growls that seem like they could almost be words.
There is a long, decompressing howl - part wolf, part woman. And then she leaps at the black wolf, grabbing at it with hands like daggers.
He inhales, taking in the stink of death and the wolf that is imposing herself above him. He doesn't flinch when she squeezes his shoulder. If she wanted him dead? He would be. He is sure of that. "I take no pride in spilling blood, even if it was what I was trained for. But that will not keep me from doing so." His fingers clench the glass, and he finishes the drink. Thumb running over the rim of the glass. At the mentions of her
Lieutenant he frowns down at the glass. Matteo, the reason he is here. She hadn't been able to cure the man he considered — no — considers, a brother. But being here, in his own twisted thoughts, feels like he is maybe honoring him. Keeping him close to his heart. Further becoming closer in the late man's family. He looks up when she utters that he will kill for her, and the pleased tone tells him she is, in fact, happy with him in this moment. He is useful, and thus he can stay. And perhaps that means a fix to this curse. A relief from the monster he is becoming beneath every moon. The scrambling of his brain. And the ever blurring line between man and beast.
Said beast growls louder at the way she belittles him with her words. At her posturing. Cur, it nearly makes his lip curl. Makes him growl even in this state. A strike to his pride. His father's voice sounding in his head 'Weak. You want to be a man? Then stop acting like a pup with your tail between your legs.' Instead he swallows it down. "You." He says simply, all but bearing his neck to another. 'Pathetic.' He thinks.
She smiles, the singular word hanging in the air around them. In some ways, August reminds her of Emilio; eager to please, eager to find their place. She will show it to him.
Still, any wolf has teeth, and anything with teeth will bite in it's desperation. August has passed one of what will be many tests to come, because loyalty is no longer a given, given Anish's designs.
Maybe it won't come, his inevitable betrayal, but Yuisa looks at August like an ace in the hole; a joker to be played from the sleeve, should her lieutenant or any other packling get out of line.
It had been dry and hot - unusually so - the night she'd torn her father's throat out for control of their family's future. She remembers the distinct smell of smoke from forest fires miles off.
It had been raining, blustering and wet the night she'd killed Mattias for choosing compromise first instead of as a last resort. She remembers how hard it was to see, sinking his body into the ocean while they kept their boat from tipping them all in with him.
And now it's snowing. It's been snowing. The ocean conquers it, making sure a thin line of sand exists between the rolling waves of saltwater and the snow-coated grit that sinks in a downward slop from the piers. A few bonfires burn - the cops know not to bother them though.
Yuisa paces, ringed by her own people for the second time in as many years, staring down somebody she had thought would have her back, but it turns out he's just as soft as the rest. Just as prone to pity. Steam rolls off of her bare shoulders in the cold. It's bitter but she wouldn't know it, not with the heat blistering inside her as she calls upon that which makes her greater.
The fact that she sees not only Warwick here, circled and confused, but Cerberus mongrels too? The idea only incenses her further. When she's done with Anish, she'll do them in, too.
Her gaze, yellow-blown already, goes from the assortment of mongrels to her former friend. "To the death, then." She sneers, her bones already squeezing against her frame, making her wince. The first leg is always the turn, who has accepted their beast more? Who will become the wolf first and win the first snap of the jaw?
It will be her.
The flare of anger rises up, and while he doesn't growl or bite or snap, his eyes slowly burn golden - meeting Yuisa's with intensity and a shake in his hands. He won't back down, there's too much at stake - and she'll destroy Warwick with this vendetta. Hands at his side, he keeps his stance firmly rooted to the spot as she continues her wrathful tirade.
"You are destroying everything for the sake of a vendetta you don't know how to end." Contrary to her angry, loud timbre - his is quiet and even, only a slight shake to betray the fury underneath his skin. The wolf wants out. The wolf wants to challenge. "I made a mistake giving her the bite, and I'm doing what needs to be done with her." There's no need to go into details, she knows what he believes of the bitten ones. The argument here isn't that. It's the fact that Warwick is meant to be a strong, united front standing above the rest - not destroying them.
"You're not fit to be Alpha of Warwick any longer." He moves, finally, at that - to grab the rest of his drink and down it. Not a lick of respect for Matteo, none for the pack, and none for the other wolves in this town even against the onslaught of hunters, vampires, and magic. "I'm challenging you."
Anish slings his accusation and then his excuse. "What needs to be done is obvious, you just don't have the fucking spine to admit it." None of them do. "Kersey
They're practically nose to nose now, Yuisa the aggressor, and Anish the stalwart defender - even if that's not how she sees it. The knife, perenially tucked away at her back, itches. This conversation is eerily familiar.
Then he incenses her, and her face curls in anger. He swills his drink, he grandstands.
Then he challenges her, and for the first time in a very long time, Yuisa feels a shrill streak of cold fear rise up her spine.
"Fucking challenging me?" She asks, incredulous. A laugh bubbles out of her, angry and indignant. There's nobody here. She could do him now, just like Mattias. Dump him in the water. His eyes rest on her, all she needs is for him to turn his back, to think this is all going to go his way, and then she can teach him how things always go her way. "I knew you were a fucking liability. I should have had Kersey make sure you were out their with your mongrel pet when I had him tip the hunters off."
She wishes for a flinch, a look away, anything, so her hand can swing quietly to the knife in the back of her pants and do its dirty work, but then the bar's door opens, and some late-comers stumble in laughing, and her twitchy hand seizes, falls back to her side. "We're fucking closed, pendejos!" She growls, and they look on at both of them, stupefied at what they've come into.
She looks to Anish, all her energy coiling in her spine before it seems to escape, her spine straightening.
"Name a place, gato..." she spits the last word out.
As the other wolf lets her neck go and steps back the shrinking blonde's hand comes up to her own throat, rubbing at it as she takes shallow breaths to calm herself. It's been made more than clear who is control here, and Zoë knows well enough now her name means nothing, Yuisa is the one with the power in this dynamic. As the woman moves to dig in her pocket, she nearly flinches in anticipation. Unsure what might come next, what the older woman might do.
The phone is unexpected though and she nearly fumbles it as it is thrust into her hand. She looks to the other in slight confusion before light eyes travel back to the screen and she hits play. She is still unsure what this is, what could possibly be on this phone. And then she sees it, a vehicle that she's seen and handful of times in images, and there, even with grainy quality is her sister. She doesn't recognize the other, it doesn't matter, her focus is on Felicity, eyes widening as the limousine disappears into the water. Head snapping up at the other's words.
"You — she wouldn't — I didn't…" her eyes are still wide, something in them like a feeling of betrayal, and glossy like her world has just been shattered. "Where did you get this?" She wants to sound demanding, but the words are weak, mind processing what she's just watched as she looks back down at the screen and hits play again, and then a third time. Sounds muffled for an entirely different reason. It's clear why someone would slip a vehicle into water like that. Felicity is the reason they are in this mess. Felicity betrayed their family.
Zoë knew her older sister hated their father, but never to this extent. She looks to Yuisa stepping in close again, stuttering her reply out, voice soft and sorrowful. "I — I didn't know." Her words are full of honesty. And she hopes, wonders what her older sister will have to say. If she'll explain this away. If she'll apologize for putting Zoë in danger. Their whole family in danger. She swallows, wets her lips and looks Yuisa in the eye.
"I'm Warwick." She says clearly with only a slight shake to her voice, phone gripped tightly in her hand.
"I get it," she says, watching the girl's face rise and fall with the realization that she's just a pawn here. He father, her brothers, her little sister. All weak. "It sucks, when you realize family only ever disappoints you."
Then, as if to put salt in it. "Glad I could bring you clarity. Keep that." A nod to the burner phone.
"I'll be around, call me if you need anything; th'number's in there..." she says as she backs up, pulling gloves back over her hands. "I'm sure you've got a lot to talk about with your sister. Send my regards."
She doesn't wait for response, her bike roaring and spewing hot steam into the cold air before she rockets off.
She's appeased and that alone makes him relax a bit. He looks at the sluggish blood that oozes from the revealed thing, at the way she so easily lifts as trophy and a nuisance. And when she sets it back down his eyes travel from it to the Alpha. He's fallen in line. It's habit. Even as he was training in his youth he had known his place. A body. An extension. Until he'd proven himself to be the head of the beast. The teeth and the fang. He doesn't mind being an extension for her. Because an extension of her means he is useful. And being useful brings care. Being useful ensures her help to his problems, because if you want a beast to function every limb and finger are needed in working order.
His fingers card through always mussed hair and he takes the offered glass with a muttered thanks. He takes a drink and when she tells him to sit, he does so willingly. Obediently. When she questions how he feels he gives a slight shrug, looks down at the liquid in the glass. "About the killing? Or overall?" He asks, because they are two vastly different answers. The killing though not something he fully relishes in, hardly bothers him. He didn't know the other wolf. Though he does wonder what Millie would have thought of him now. Picking the head off an Eventide wolf. Killing one of what had been their own. But wasn't that…a symbolical excuse of a pack just an excuse for wayward pups to feel as if they belonged?
If she meant about how he himself felt…it was complicated. At this time the wolf is silent. Dormant. Waiting to be awakened, to be needed for carnage. To gorge on what it justified as enemies. As rivals. He wonders if a part of her knows even with his current loyalty, that deep down the beast that growls and grows within his chest would look at her as just another chunk of meat. Something to be pinned and torn into. Something to bury it's muzzle in and gorge. His skin feels itchy over the muscle of man. An agonizing new predicament. Nothing he can tame. He feels it from the inside, like fur stubbled beneath it, tickling and scratching the underside of flesh. He takes another drink, "If it is about the kill, that was necessary."
Necessary, she has to suppress a laugh. "The only thing you should feel after a kill is pride," she says, squeezing on his shoulder. "You're alive, they aren't. You've done them a favor, really."
She is undefeated. She cannot conceive of living in any other state.
Yuisa downs the rest of her drink and sets it down. "One of my closest Lieutenants is dead. Stricken by a curse, too." She moves back to her bureau and leans against it, folding her arms as she regards August with a critical eye.
"You'll kill on command. That's good." Whether or not he kills without hesitation is useless - something's rendered this proud true-blood into something ravening and uncontrollable; in this he's a strange reflection of Matteo's affliction. She toys with the idea of dangling a search for a panacea - a ticket out of what's wrong with him - but not yet, he's way too valuable as a liability, especially with Teo's loss and Anish getting uppity.
"Who is your Alpha, cur?" She asks, leaning down to look him square in the eyes. "Who will you kill for?"
There's a sort of all-consuming rage in her, one best directed outside. She needs to crush something, somebody, and so she directs it at the path of least resistance.
Matteo is gone, and she's burying the memory in dubious anger. Anish wants to dwell, wants to make war on the vampires while they're in the middle of a war for the future of their kind in this city. Turned wolves mistakes. Turned wolves are beasts with no governance of themselves.
She is trueborn; in this she is proud. Of this she will not be ashamed.
Yips and blood-soaked cries of wolfen pain fill the air as she watches her Warwicks rip at Harford heels after an incursion into their hunting grounds.
Pah. Hunting grounds, as if these city wolves hunt, as if the don't lock themselves up and deprive themselves of their place at the top of the foodchain while offering safe harbor to mongrels who give each and every one of their kind a bad name. It is the mistakes that draw the eyes of hunters. It is the misbegotten who break treaties.
Matteo was driven mad by cursed blood; this alone is proof to her.
Yuisa sees the largest wolf among assembled Harford leap into the violent throng of fang and fur. That'll be Remi - the wolf's old man had been a known quantity to her family and a staple to their kind in these parts. He's, of course, gone now, with only this soft-hearted sack of meat and a sniveling brother to carry that legacy forward.
A good trophy to assert dominance and drive Harford into the mud where they can sink their teeth in once and for all.
A sharp howl breaks the grand melee of snapping jaws and whipping claws, Yuisa beggng attention. It's on two legs that she wades into the fight, and its with hands tipped with razors that she flings a runtish Harford aside. A barking sound of air pistoned through flaring, wolfen nostrils calls Remi's name, commands the attention of Warwick. It's an Alpha's shout - no different from any other wolves save that she's the heart to make it carry.
The werewolf stands like a man, coated in thick black fur, eyes trained on Harfords beating golden heart. This isn't just a rematch. It's a finale.
Maybe she is stupid in thinking that the thinly veiled threat will ward off the other woman, and maybe it is stupid to think her asking if she had really just done it will get her to leave her alone. Maybe living in another country, surrounded by other spoiled rich brats has done something to her brain to think that the woman would be as easy to bowl over as some snotty bitch named Tabitha who nasally brags about her parents' yacht.
The sudden grip at her neck, the rough and forceful press into the building is enough for her to drop her cup to the ground, snow melting and turning a ruddy brown as the drink stains it. Her eyes are wide, breathing cut short as her pulse starts to pound in her ears. She wants to be defiant, wants to kick and lash out, but the truth of the matter is, no one has ever touched her this way. No one has ever actually followed through or used violence to get a point across. And as the Alpha's grip tightens a pitiful whimpered whine sounds from her throat.
She feels pathetic, her bravado slipping at the words coming out of the woman's mouth. Her eyes fall to her lips, blood is rushing in her ears but she takes them in as clearly as she can, face reddening because she can't get herself to even try to breathe. All bark, no bite. Because Zoë has never had to. Felicity had said things were dangerous, and now she feels stupid for having brushed it off. And she's pissed that she feels small as rough concrete digs into her back. At the question she feels herself nod. Her want to live stronger than her pride. And maybe in that regard she actually has a brain.
Yuisa's eyes drag their contempt over the shrinking girl's features; the point's been nailed home well enough, and so she releases her, stepping back and fishing something out of her jacket - a gun? A knife? It's a cell phone, and Yuisa brings something up on it's screen before shoving it into the girl's hands. "Feel free to hit play."
The video enclosed is grainy, but clear enough to see Felicity and another sinking a limousine into the water off of the Jersey Piers. "Now I don't know how your sister knew that wolf, or cajoled them into setting My pack up to take the fall for killing your papa, but I do know this. I've taken out our trash."
She lets the girl hold the phone. "Do I need to take out more garbage in My pack?" She gets close to Zoe again. "You're Warwick now, and you were out of country at the time, but if I find out you had anything to do with this I'll make sure I will send pieces of you and your brother to your traitor sister."
She steps back again. "Unless you want to go ask her yourself, hm?"
Anish stares at her as if she's grown another head. He knew she was losing it, but.. He shakes his head. "Yui, this right here is why it's low." He leans forward, tapping two fingers on the bar counter for emphasis. It's not just Matteo, he knows, but it's a big blow for them. He just doesn't understand why she doesn't fucking care.
He flinches at the thrown bottle.
"There's nothing to do, Yui. Interpack conflict is only going to make us weak. There's so much fucking shit happening, and yeah, fuck, we've had problems with the other packs before, but you're the one making it so difficult for us. You are. Not them.
Her words are far too harsh, and he stands up before he can think, gripping the counter too tight, the wood crackling under his grip. "Dissension because I want to honor a good man? You've lost it. You're too focused on conquest, and you can't see what's right in front of you."
He has to contain himself, control himself. "You think weakness is every wolf but yourself. Maybe it's time you take a step back."
In no time they're nose to nose, Yuisa's brown eyes flared golden in the dark.
"Weakness is letting the weak lead. The vampires can wait, we have them dead to rights whenever we want to move - they live because we let them live. Stick men in houses made of tinder. Harford existing makes us look week. And those hippies up the road? Playing around, mingling trueborns and mongrels just because they see Harford doing it? And let's not even think about Kersey. The mongrels have a place, it's in Cerberus, with Kersy, where they can fucking roll in the mud and howl in the fucking woods like the little freaks they are."
"Or are you going soft now, following in Matteo's footsteps with all these pet mongrels. Matteo's little strays, that... idiot puta that fucked up one of ours over a girl? Oh yeah, Anish, I know you've been talking with her. What happened to making an example of her, hm?"
"So say it again, Anish. Tell me to step back again. Or know what's good for you and sit the fuck down."
Anish's thumb flicks at the rim of his glass, now filled by Yuisa, as he stares into middle space. He hadn't been quite as close to Matteo in recent months as he'd wanted to be, and maybe that was his own fault -- too wrapped up in his family bullshit to be a good friend, or a co-lead. He's starting to be unable to Yui as well, too, and it sits like a rock in his stomach.
It's too much, losing people. He thinks of Autumn with Jude. He thinks of his younger sibling. He thinks of Yuisa's brother, and Matteo's father. Port Leiry has been nothing but death for the past year. He brings the drink to his lips and takes a long sip of it, and refills it to the brim, starting over again.
It's not a funeral, but it's a memorial. Remembering one of the men that helped shape this pack, for better or for worse. A tiny mote of anger sits within his chest, thinking about the vampire (now dead) that had done it. Will Yuisa care to target the clan? He would. He'd raze the earth, but they're so distant now, he can't bring himself to say it. Kanemaru has a target on their back, and he'll go it alone if he has to.
He doesn't think this was targeted at her, but she thinks everything is now.
"We're losing too many people. Ideologically and to the cold gates of the other side." Another gulp of his liquor. "We can't keep - morale is beyond low."
Yuisa drags an arm across her mouth, masking an incredulous, scoffing laugh behind it as she braces against the liquor. "Yeah, well, maybe if people in this fucking circle had any sort of pride."
She sets the shotglass down on the bartop, opening down because she's well and truly done.
"And how," she says, tone shifting like something's stuck in her craw suddenly. "How do you suppose we... boost morale, 'Nish?"
She throws the bottle across the bar in a drunken moment of lost composure.
"Fucking runt wolves and their pet mongrels break into our turf, steal our shit, vanish." She turns to him. And how had they gotten away? "Harford shitting on our doorstep. Eventide ignoring us, and the fucking mutts over in Kersey picking fights with their betters, and any time I want to do something about it I get talked down."
Maybe it's the liquor. Maybe it's everything else. "So let me guess, all this dissension and you wanna take a detour to whack the leeches because a dying man died a little sooner?" It's over a line, and she knows it the second she says it. But it's out there now.
The package sits heavy against his hip, an old shoulder bag securing gore and viscera against the elements as he moves towards Yuisa's office, the scent of death and stale blood clinging to him, especially pungent the closer to the slightly dripping bag. Small droplets falling to create bloated splashes against concrete every few steps if he jostles too much. But it's nothing compared to the heavy rain it had started out as. When everything was fresh, when he's first cracked and ripped, tore the flesh from bone. With added strength it was like plucking a grape from the vine with a few twists and a flourish of a yank.
He gives a knock and when let in, opens the flap of his bag, fingers fitting in curly, dark, lifeless locks pulling it free and dropping the head with a slightly wet plop on her desk. "Your blood, my loyalty." He murmurs. Killing should feel bad, taking life should cause emotion, and though it does somewhere deep in his chest, but at the time he'd felt joyous to revel in the kill. And now? It just feels inevitable.
Yuisa watches the boy cross the floor; it doesn't take a genius to know what's in the bag; blood and the stench of festering decay are subtle in the bag but they leave their trail just the same as breadcrumbs of blood.
She does hope that isn't a breadcrumb trail that's followed him across the city.
Yuisa trails behind him, looks at the unveiled thing, sitting on her desk, soaking it's red filth through the bag. She entertains the idea of throwing it to the floor; blood isn't good for the finish, or for the paperwork it threatens, but fuck it.
Without an ounce of hesitation or a trace of repulsion she loops her fingers through the hair, pulling it to better see the face. "Wow." Turning to him, she motions to the whole of him. "Good job." Yuisa moves to cover the thing up- she'll have it disposed of later- and then moves to a decantur of liquor on a nearby shelf. "Drink." It's not a question, and she pours two, sipping one as she hands him the other.
'One of mine.' So this is her Alpha then. And here Zoë had thought she could just avoid this whole thing if she stayed by the wayside. Yuisa goes on some ramble that the blonde isn't privy to and well shaped eyebrows pull together. Was she suggesting that Flick had some hand in breaking in somewhere? She really isn't following anything that is being said and doesn't appreciate being talked to like she's some subservient grunt.
"Listen, I have no idea what you are talking about for one. Your little pack affairs are very low in my concerns, I don't do the whole running around to pray to some stranger. You haven't proven shit to me so I am definitely not one of yours, so lets get that straight. Secondly, I'm sure Felicity has more important things to do than entering your place, or whatever you are implying." She finishes off, taking another drink and not shying away as the taller woman stalks closer. Doesn't let her intimidate her. A Van Brunt bows to no one. A Van Brunt demands respect and holds their ground. Her head tilts and looks up to her.
"Petty threats of violence aren't going to persuade me either. You suggest my sister is a mongrel, let alone in a den of them one more time? I'll make you disappear before my next nail appointment." An empty threat, she knows her family is at a disadvantage in the current state. That for all it means this woman is her Alpha now, but that didn't mean she'd let her disrespect Flick, some lingering of wonder over an older sister she knew from the past steadying her loyalty.
Yuisa hears, but she doesn't listen.
That fuckboy running Harford, lost in the wind after kicking her in the teeth. Matteo dead, his brother gone. And now here's this rail of a woman, sister'd up to another piece of Harford trash, trying to intimidate her. It's too much, so for all of her chest thumping, Yuisa's face twists into an incredulous grin.
"Threat?"
A hand snatches out, fingers digging their grip around the carotid, and pushes her against the building beside them. Yuisa pushes in close, and whispers.
"We can do this here, and we can do it loud and messy, or you can pay respect where it's due and be thankful I don't string you up somewhere like I want to." Her grip tightens and her smile deepens. "But know I could have you bled out right here on the street and ain't even the chief of police could haul me in for more than an hour. You being here is useful to me, but not in the least indispensible, comprendes?"
@anish-sahni
The Portside
Some time before the storm; the week Matteo Lazkano died.
Most of those who aren't in the know had left early, and the rest had been shut out, told to hit the bricks and find another dive for the night. No, today was solely a Warwick affair.
But even the other Warwick wolves have slowly flaked off by the time the witching hour rolls around, leaving just Yuisa and Anish in the dim light of the place and its grungy patina and dying neon signs and smoke-yellowed beer adverts that seem to, by aura alone, keep the Portside from falling in on itself at any given day of the week.
Many drink to forget; tonight these two drink to remember.
Between them, it's a second bottle of spirits;
Yuisa pours herself a glass, and then Anish. A third sits, filled and un-drained, at Teo's favorite seat, where it's sat the whole night.
No sign of his brother, the motherfucker. Somebody's got to keep the light on.
They've said their salutations and they've waxed poetic about him, about kinder times, not these dark days with their mean dreams. What and who he's left behind, they'll be cared for. Warwick protects its own,.
Yuisa puffs her lips out, leaning on the bar, laying her head on her arms. "That shit in October, now this..." The liquor's cupping her brain, stirring resentments. She's broken an extended silence at this part, and she looks to Anish without standing up. "Feel like things have conspired against me from day one. Now this."
Teo's backing had given her legitimacy - legitimacy that is now up in the air.
