#convo:kit

[ezekielxmacklin]

@kitxberker​

The fights were set to be as gruesome as ever. Zeke settled next to Kit on the bench, a beer in either hand as a bag of stale peanuts fit between his knees. “See that kid-” The shifter said as he gestured towards a short, dark-haired guy who didn’t look older than twenty-five on the ringside. “He’s a shifter too, like me. A lot tougher than he looks.” He turned into a giant anaconda, was weird to think about where all that snake was fitting in a 5′7 package. Zeke leaned close to Kit and still had to yell to be heard over the crowd as they cheered a vampire that entered the ring. Some new guy that he’d never seen before. “This should be good.”

[marshallxowens]

@kitxberker​​

Marshall’s altercation with the fury was still fresh on his mind when he stepped out onto the street and nearly walked into oncoming traffic. The driver of some SUV slammed on his breaks and came to a screeching halt, startling the werewolf before he stormed out of his car with the obvious intent of giving Marshall a very loud piece of his mind. Red-faced and belligerent the Greek spouted off a slew of insults malaka being the best of them. Marshall’s Greek wasn’t great but he’d been here long enough to know when he was being called names, and in response to the very public humiliation he could feel his own temper starting to flare. The wolf inside recoiled on its haunches as a low grow emanated from the back of Marshall’s throat, fists balled at his sides and a yellow flash moved across his irises as the beast aimed to come forth. “I don’t even fucking speak Greek!” Marshall yelled, any anger was out of character for him but in moments like this it ebbed forward. He had always been the sort of person who just rolled with the punches and laughed things off, but it was like he couldn’t now. Now staring into the greasy face of some man who had nearly mowed him down, all Marshall wanted to do was rip him in half. A sickening snap emanated from his chest as Marshall’s neck twitched and fear replaced anger in the eyes of his soon-to-be next victim. “I’ll kill you!” He shouted as the man scrambled to get back into his car and Marshall moved in.

[erikxmiller]

@weisskit​

The ranch was a never ending bucket of chores; between his land and the bakery built upon it the work never ended. Horses needed to be tended to, livestock, and fields. Erik was getting old, too old to be dealing with this. He had not come back to Greece to break his back and end up laid in bed with nothing but Njáll’s epics to keep him company. No, his purpose was to die in battle - to earn Valhalla and join his family as the Norns no doubt intended for him. And yet, there he was in the stables brushing down the first of many horses. The stables still needed to be mucked out and already the old wolf was tired. 

Erik’s nose twitched as the familiar scent of a wolf cut through the pungent odor of manure, though it was not anyone that he recognized. Old but still sharp, he did not turn away from the task at hand. “You lost?” Erik questioned, “Bakery is closed for the day.” He cast his gaze over his shoulder as blue eyes met the figure of the young wolf, his voice was always as warm as his hearth, but in warning it took on a characteristic edge. “And this is private property.”

[marshallxowens]

@weisskitt

It was unseasonably cold for a summer night in Greece, a clear sky, a fresh breeze off of the Aegean, and a waning crescent moon overhead. Marshall was never one to put much stock in the stars, he never gave a damn about astrology, and before a few months ago the word supernatural was reserved for stupid ghost stories. That was what Marshall remembered last before some assholes from the college started heckling him outside their car windows. Once upon a time there wasn’t a lot that could get to him, he was a good kid, got good grades, had a whole future planned out. But just a few slights thrown his way and Marshall’s blood started to boil, he saw red, and then he saw nothing at all. 

He remembered the pain, but that was nothing new. Bones broke and skin split as he traded his fresh-faced and youthful demeanor for that of a monster. Flashes of blood, screaming, crying - and then something else entirely. Marshall’s head was a blur when he awoke to the familiar crunch of the forest earth beneath him. There was an acrid taste of iron in his mouth and a deep-rooted ache in his bones as he wobbled shakily to his feet. 

A faint glow in the distance cut through the dark night and almost habitually Marshall started for it; he rubbed his bare arms and shivered against the cold. There was something familiar here - a scent, maybe a feeling? In truth there was a lot of things that Marshall had trouble placing, he supposed that had to come with being a werewolf. Part man, part beast. His instincts were telling him something, but he wasn’t sure if it was that he should be on his guard or if he could be at ease. Either way, he was lost. 

“Excuse me uh, sir?” Marshall hoped they spoke English. He wondered how he could explain away his ripped pants and exposed torso before the distinct smell of a werewolf cut through the air. Maybe he didn’t have to lie at all. “I got kind of lost do you... Do you happen to know the way back to town?”

[ezekielxmacklin]

@kitxberker​

It was either very late or very early depending on your perspective but at some point Ezekiel had lost track of time. Carried away with Kit until the two of them collapsed together in a tangle of limbs. The shifter had rested his head in the crook of the wolf’s neck, the other’s tired arm slung across him for what had only felt like a moment, though he woke up several hours later to the warm light of dawn as it quietly began to creep through the window. Something had changed in the late night or early day that drew him from the otherwise peaceful sleep that he’d been enjoying; it made the shifter question the world he’d closed his eyes to as some ancient tether seemed to call to him through the veil. 

Remembering where he ended and Kit began was a small feat, sleepovers weren’t usually part of the arrangement but waking up so close to the wolf wasn’t something that Zeke was about to start complaining about. When the shifter had fallen asleep last night it was with the buried truth that his mother had been murdered in this city, and yet, now somehow when he opened his eyes he could feel her once again. In Corinth, somewhere. The sensation was the same as the night she’d been taken, somehow Zeke just knew that she was here. Maybe even looking for him. It was confusing and disorienting considering the hour, but before Zeke went running off chasing ghosts he still had a man in his bed to worry about. 

“Morning.” Zeke greeted, his voice gruff before he cleared the dryness of the early day from the back of his throat. At some point in the night the shifter had made good on his promise of a couple beers, they served to hydrate the two of them and now sat half-drunk, stale, and warm on the nightstand. Zeke reached for one now and polished it off, feeling like it was not nearly strong enough despite the hour. “Sore?”

[ezekielxmacklin]

@kitxberker​

“If the owner finds us down here I’m throwing you under the bus.”  Zeke said, hands fisted in his pockets as they descended the shabby metal staircase that fed below the bar. The pit was a repurposed section of the sewer system, the ring in the middle was surrounded by coliseum style seating and the stench of sewage muddled with the blood that had been spilled the night before. “This is the Deep part of Hel’s.” The fighting ring was closed off during the day, it was only after dark when the Underworld came flooding in. He descended towards the ring and tossed Kit a casual glance, “You much of a fighter?”

[erikxmiller]

@kitxberker​

Someone was fool enough to break onto the farm, the damage was minimal but some of the livestock had not survived. It was unfortunate, and sad. The scene was a grisly one but Erik wasn’t the first to arrive, Kit was there, and so were a pair of the two responsible. Caught literally red-handed. A litany of apologies fell from their lips as they begged and pleaded in the face of someone who’s features were being distorted by their rage and their shift. Erik had every intention of letting the authorities know what had happened here, but he couldn’t do that if these two were ripped to shreds. 

“You should go.” He said evenly, his tone dark as cold blue eyes flashed through the night. All the blood had drained from their horror-stricken faces as they skirted backwards and turned to disappear into the night. Crying out it was an accident one final time before they vanished completely.  Kit’s fury-filled attention drawn to him as yellow eyes met Erik’s through the long shadows of the bloody scene. “Easy,” Erik steadied as he raised his hands and kept his eyes fixed on the other werewolf. “take a breath, Kit.”

[ezekielxmacklin]

@weisskit​

Bruiser was a recent addition to the family, recent in the last year anyways. When he came to Corinth he got a dog because that’s just what people did. A bit skittish, Bruiser was a rescue and needed a lot of exercise and attention. Attention that Zeke was all too happy to give him, people were shit, but animals were okay. It was late evening, the golden hour. The sun was making its way below the horizon and cast a warm glow over the forest as Bruiser padded ahead of him off-leash. The dog disappeared for a moment before there was a loud yelping sound, he came running back and jumped clear from the ground and into Zeke’s arms. Scared witless. Zeke wasn’t sure what he expected to come around the corner, but it wasn’t a man. “What the fuck did you do to my dog?”