this city never sleeps at night -- open

[Elizabeth Marie Jethrow]

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[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/odtXhe3.png] warning for mature language and mature themes text | speak It was places like this Jethrow usually found herself, perched upon a bench and looking down on the town in the middle of the night. The town was small, though, and the lights were minimal, but it was still beautiful in contrast to the darkness that enveloped the outskirts of the town. But with the moon almost full, the overlook and town was brighter than usual. Maybe that was really why she sat here. Her eyes wandered from the town to the moon above - so bright in the sky and so close to full. She knew what would happened when the moon was full - the people she'd met in town would all run off to the forest or to their packs for hospice. Jethrow knew the drill ever since she'd first picked up a firearm. She wasn't scared that someone or something was going to sneak up behind her, though. She had never feared a werewolf, but she feared for them. She'd gladly mingle amongst them and watch them live their lives. They were normal people with a gift - something her parents never saw. So she sat in this town and waited for either her dreams to come true - run off with some hunky werewolf guy and become one of them - or for her to get her hopes down and leave this place. Of course, she liked the first option better, but one had to hope for the worst and expect the best. She didn't worry too much of wolves today because this January cold was beginning to get to her. Even in her warm clothing - a pea coat, winter boots, a sweater and jeans, she was still freezing. Her hands retreated to her coat's pockets and her hair shifted to keep her ears warm. Maybe tonight wasn't exactly the best night to be out here, but it was beautiful enough. She felt the safest here with a moon that wasn't quite full and so distant from the town and everyone in it. Being able to breathe in the fresh air and seeing no one around was nice. ooc| YEAH BAD QUALITY POST WOO table by sophia

[Cayden Thomas Murphy]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #335588 solid; border-bottom: 10px #335588 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 717 ( TAGGED ) open ( WOLF FORM ) CLICKY The full moon was coming up, and as per usual, Cayden was extraordinarily pissed off at absolutely nothing. It had been a pretty good day, actually. No morning classes to bug him and he'd managed to run off some steam in the afternoon. Of course, it could be the best day in the world but for a werewolf, it was still coming up on the full moon and there was no escaping that. He knew. He'd tried. He supposed trying to escape the moon's pull (or lack thereof) was a bit like trying to walk on water or read someone's mind. It sounded cool but it was never going to happen. Of course, that didn't mean he didn't try to run from it on occasion. At least physical exertion would wear him out and maybe he'd actually sleep through the plethora of uncomfortable sensations that came with avoiding the shift. Cayden's worn out shoes pounded out a steady rhythm as he ran, his steps oddly light for someone of his size. To his ears, the night's silence was broken by his breathing, dogs barking, car engines, small animals scurrying around and trying to find a warm place to sleep, and his own excellerated heart beat. Nowhere was quiet, but it wasn't as loud up here away from all the people in the valley. Nobody came up here this time of year, especially not at night and especially not this close to the full moon. Not all of the town's residents believed he even existed, but they were still cautious which was good. It meant he could run out here without having to worry about pretending to be human or making up lies. That alone helped to calm him down. He hated hiding and he hated lying. Why couldn't people just understand that werewolves were people, too, dammit? Rounding a bend in the path ahead of him, Cayden swatted a branch out of his way and ducked under another. This wasn't a path humans used. It had been made by years of feet and paws and was still nearly invisible to the untrained eye. There was a road off to his left where people could drive their cars up here to make out in the backseat or whatever. He had to admit that it was a nice view. Detouring off the path, he made his way out of the trees so he could see the small town laid out below him. He was a good ten feet into the open before he saw her and he stopped dead in his tracks. He should have smelled her, but the wind was going the wrong direction. Awesome. Well, there was nothing for it now. He knew how he must have looked. Pissed off, in nothing but sweats, in the middle of nowhere with no car or even a bike, with the bottoms of his pants damp from snow. No, not conspicuous at all. He mentally rolled his eyes before he made his way over to the edge, only then catching a good sniff of the redhead on the bench nearby. Human. Just his luck. Okay, even his sarcastic inner voice was beginning to make him mad. Then again, it didn't take much to make him mad. Though he was only a little winded, he breathed harder to make it look like he was out of shape, even going so far as to rub the small of his back. He really hated pretending to be human. Maybe he could have just snuck away without her noticing. Better not to chance it, though. After a moment of clenching his teeth and trying not to instinctively growl at the woman who had, for all intents and purposes, invaded his territory, he sighed and forced himself to relax. "It's kinda pretty, isn't it? You should see it at Christmas when everybody's got lights up. Makes it look like Vegas compared to this." Small town Christmas. It baffled him. Humans in general baffled him. Even having lived among them, they still made him crazy trying to understand them. Another deep breath, and Cayden turned to introduce himself. He could keep a cool head for awhile. He could. "Cayden Murphy." He even managed to punctuate it with a strained grin. outfit

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[Elizabeth Marie Jethrow]

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[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/odtXhe3.png] warning for mature language and mature themes text | speak She heard the rustle in the trees and felt that something was nearby. Senses that were bred into her reacted to a stranger's presence, but she didn't budge. There was no sign of fear that something was coming out to get her and no sign of anxiety. She had followed the road up here herself, but surely it wouldn't be surprising if someone had taken a different route. She knew this place was filled with werewolves, but she had pretended she didn't. After all, a human running with them was quite odd and she rather not be there quite yet. Her eyes remained glued on the city below when the boy revealed himself from the brush. When he spoke, she casually turned - curls bouncing and golden eyes looking at the boy. A cutie pie, of all things, completely shirtless and in a pair of sweatpants partially wet with snow. That would possibly scream 'weirdo' to anyone but Jethrow, but she overlooked it. Not that it was normal to her, but the only real explanation she could think of was from her years of training with her parents and older brother. The hunting years. She didn't get over excited or anything, though, and instead continued the conversation as if nothing weird was going on. "It's quite beautiful," she nodded, shrugging. "But being out of the town is always nice." Being away from all those people, those annoying people, she wanted to say. But she kept her mouth shut. "Vegas, huh?" She questioned. Too bad Christmas had just passed and she missed it, but she'd survive. Knowing her, she'd probably be saying here for another year at the least, or until she got tired of the damned place or got chased out. But she could wait to come up here on Christmas and watch the lights. Surely it was beautiful. She pictured it for a little bit as she looked back down at the town, imaging the different colored lights shining. It seemed so dull now in comparison to the bright image she had in her head. Her lips parted and she sighed quietly before being ripped out of her reverie by the boy speaking once more. Cayden Murphy. She turned her head again and stood, her boots crunching in the snow as she moved towards the boy, holding a hand out politely for a handshake. "Jethrow," she replied. If he'd shake her hand or leave her hanging, she'd move back to the bench and sit down, gesturing for him to join her. It was polite, and it was usually the way Jethrow was. "What brings you all the way out here, Cayden? Little midnight run?" She smiled, her teeth white and bright even in the darkness. table by sophia

[Cayden Thomas Murphy]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #335588 solid; border-bottom: 10px #335588 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 944 ( TAGGED ) open ( WOLF FORM ) CLICKY Cayden watched the woman turn out of the corner of his eye but most of his attention was focused inward, on himself. It wasn't the full moon yet so he wasn't too bad off, but he could feel the pull. His whole body ached, begging him to shift. His skin was practically crawling. It only added to the anger issues, like someone running their fingernails on a chalkboard. At first it would only make you flinch but if they kept it up, someone was getting punched in the face. He idly wondered if the sensation was similar to Chinese water torture. He wasn't sure, but he'd read that it was nothing more than dripping water, but after time the prisoner would tell their captors anything they wanted to know just to get it to stop. He had his doubts about that, but then again, he'd never experienced it for himself. Cayden looked out over the town below. He could see the houses, the farms, city hall, and street lights. Off to the north, he could see the frozen lake with moonlight glinting off the ice. Chinese water torture, indeed. His eyes followed the light up to it's source as the woman spoke, her voice nonchalant despite his appearance. Maybe he was a better actor than he thought, though he had a hard time judging human perceptions. Maybe she just didn't think it was weird for him to be out here. She was out here too, after all, though she was dressed more appropriately for the weather. "Being in town is never nice, only occasionally necessary." He said it by reflex and it was mostly true. He went in town to work and make money and he went to buy things. Human comforts he was fond of. He actually had a soft spot for the rawhides normally sold to dog owners. If he'd had one with him in that moment, he would have been hard-pressed not to pull it out and start chewing on it right there. He finally pulled his eyes away from the source of his discomfort and looked at the redhead. "I've never actually been to Vegas, but I bet it's out of this world. I might go someday if I get a chance. Lose my giant fortune in a game of chance." Fortune. Right. He was lucky if he could make rent. It was a good thing he didn't mind eating raw. A trip to Vegas would be out of the question for a good long while unless he won the lottery which would be impossible since he didn't actually play the lottery. Cayden watched the girl approach him, completely unafraid. He wanted to take a step back, to keep his distance so he didn't end up hurting her. Every wolf had different habits around the full moon, and his was seclusion. He kept himself safe by just staying away from everyone. He would go out in the middle of nowhere so the only thing he was a danger to was the occasional rabbit. Of course, things like having a job and needing to pass his classes often forced him back into society. He tensed, but didn't back away as the girl held out a hand. Being as careful as he could, he reached out and took it, her fingers cool against his body heat. "Jethrow?" He arched an eyebrow at her as he let go of her hand. It was an interesting name, maybe a surname, but he wasn't going to pry. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding as she moved back to the bench, gesturing for him to join her. It was a bad idea. He knew it was. Cayden looked up at the moon again, judging it's size visually as if he couldn't feel it in every fiber of his being. He'd be alright for awhile yet. He wondered if it would become more true the more often he repeated it to himself. After a moment's hesitation that was filled with a brief mental debate he made his way over, stomping a little to make himself look clumsy. He really, really hated pretending. He sat down on the bench, heedless of the snow that immediately started to melt under him. It chilled him, but not enough that it bothered him overly much. "What brings you all the way out here, Cayden? Little midnight run?" He stiffened instantly, his eyes narrowing on Jethrow's brilliant smile. Could she know? Or was it a simple chance of wording? Either way, he wasn't going to give himself away unless he couldn't help it. He studied her a moment, trying to determine what she meant by the question and his body slowly relaxed. Maybe she was just trying to get him to slip up. Well, he wouldn't. Hopefully. "Had to get away from all the stupid people." That was insanely true and he wasn't afraid to say it. "Also doing my best to wear myself out so I can actually sleep tonight." Also true and something he knew humans sometimes did. His distaste of lying had made him quite good at telling the truth without actually telling the truth. Satisfied with his answer, he leaned back and tucked his hands in his hoodie pocket. "What about you? Little dangerous to be out here this time of month, isn't it?" He raised his eyebrows and pointed at the moon, stamping on his irritation at the same time. He figured rumors of werewolves in Converse was common enough that his question would seem commonplace. outfit

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[Elizabeth Marie Jethrow]

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[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/odtXhe3.png] warning for mature language and mature themes text | speak Jethrow wouldn't call it suspicious to be out here. She'd been here before and had noticed a few scattered couples who looked over the town and went about their own business. Jethrow could do no such thing - she had no friends here and no companions, let alone a boyfriend. She'd imagine that disastrous anyway, despite her wildest dreams. Yet, here she was with a stranger - albeit an interesting one - in the middle of no where seemingly unprotected. As for being in town only somewhat needed, well, Jethrow could make a decent point there. Her house was there, and all her basic needs had to be gained through the town. Although, she could surely hunt for her own food and probably fend for herself outside the town, she rather not. This was werewolf territory and perhaps using hunting rifles and compound bows wasn't exactly the best way to make werewolves comfortable. She figured the whole deal would do more harm than good, and so she kept up the facade that she was a delicate little angel who lived under the roof of ignorance. "That's true," she said anyway. "Being around all those people can be a bit annoying. It's nice to get out and breathe some fresh air." Her golden eyes looked back to Cayden with curiosity until his eyes met hers. She kept the glance for only a moment before looking down at her boots and adjusting them as if they'd grown uncomfortable. Maybe it was just the weight of an object inside them that made them skew awkwardly. She fixed them before sitting back up straight and listen to Cayden talk. He'd never been to Vegas - that wasn't so surprising. And from the moment he mentioned the word fortune, she silently chuckled. To live in this town, you had to either be a werewolf or a little too poor to go anywhere else. Small towns weren't meant for people who were fabulously rich. But Jethrow went along with the whole deal anyway like the good sport she tried to be. "Gambling's not the best habit in the world," she said simply. "I've been there, tried it. Not to Vegas but to casinos, and all you do is you make good money and then blow it all away. It's a shame, really." Or you could keep some of it and use it to buy an apartment in this teeny little town and still have some left over so you don't have to worry too much. Her eyes gleamed slightly. When their hands met, Jethrow's smile seemed to get a little brighter. Perhaps she'd been done hunting werewolves since her brother Benjamin had been changed and had come to her for help, but that didn't mean her hunting tactics had rusted at all. A warm handshake but not sweaty - usually a good indicator. It was how she got werewolves at school - she'd befriend them and touch them, feeling their body temperature. It was almost a dead giveaway if you weren't running a fever. It peaked her interest. But Jethrow pulled her hand away a little awkwardly as Cayden questioned her nickname. "It's my last name," she blurted out calmly, but her eyes darkened as if she were offended or embarrassed ever so slightly. "I've been called Jethrow ever since I was little. And it's just kind of stuck." Not to mention she's not the most open of people and if you knew her first name and she didn't know you, well, you were in a good deal of trouble. To have her name hidden felt like a brick wall between her and who she was talking to, and she enjoyed the distance. She looked up to the moon quietly, almost willing to laugh at Cayden and his question. Dangerous to come out to the middle of no where so close to a full moon? It was, but that's why the knife in her boot suddenly felt so heavy. Old habits die hard, that's for sure, and Jethrow - despite being a cute little girl who smiles and laughs at almost everything - could take care of herself. "No, I don't think so." She shrugged. Her eyes lit up mischievously, though, and she smiled brighter than ever. "But if anything big or scary were to come out here, I think I could handle myself." She winked at Cayden and went back to staring at the town. table by sophia

[Cayden Thomas Murphy]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #335588 solid; border-bottom: 10px #335588 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 609 ( TAGGED ) open ( WOLF FORM ) CLICKY Cayden worked to keep himself calm as this strange, redheaded human talked to him about gambling. Apparently she wasn't a fan of it. Well, he probably wouldn't gamble all his money away either. It was hard enough to come by to risk losing it all on the off chance that he might gain something. A very small chance at that. No, he'd stick to what he earned and learn to live with it. If all else failed, he'd just shun human society and run in the wild. He'd heard some packs lived that way, though he'd never met anyone like that. "If I really did have a fortune hidden up my sleeve, I would probably keep it there. Figuratively speaking." It would probably get rather uncomfortable to have a shitton of money stuffed up his sleeve. Seeing the somewhat offended look Jethrow gave despite her casual tone, Cayden wondered what kind of secrets of her own she hid from the world. A moment later and the look had passed, though. Maybe he'd just imagined it. Still, he wasn't the type to press someone for information they didn't want to give. He wouldn't want someone to do that to him, after all. He just wished talking to new people was a little bit less like walking through a mine field. Not only for him, but for them, too. Certain words, certain gestures, speech patterns and tone of voice. It was all interpreted differently when you were hiding something. It created a sense of paranoia. Cayden knew that and fought against it all the time. Not everyone was out to kill him. Just most everyone. When Jethrow mentioned taking care of herself, though... It was all Cayden could do to stay where he was. That sounded an awful lot like something a hunter would say and he wouldn't put anything past a pretty face. The first time he'd been shot, it had been a blonde-headed little slip of a girl with silver bullets and a gun that was longer than she was tall. No, hunters could be anyone regardless of what they looked like. A growl rose in his throat and he choked it down. He didn't know for sure yet. See, there was that paranoia. Well, a few silver bullets would make anyone suspicious. Silver bullets and more unmarked graves than he cared to think about. Jethrow winked at him then looked back out over the town. He should never have come up this direction. Werewolves were stronger and faster than humans. They had better senses. But that didn't mean hunters weren't very dangerous and very real. If this woman really was a hunter, he had to get out of there, like, yesterday. He just had to be careful about how he left to avoid raising any more suspicions. "I take it that you believe the rumors, then?" He might detest lying, but when it came down to it he'd lie through his teeth if that's what it took to keep himself and his pack safe. His eyes narrowed on Jethrow, more in confusion than in anger, he hoped. "But if you believe the rumors, what the hell are you doing up here? Being able to take care of yourself or not, it's still dangerous." I'm dangerous, he added mentally. Abruptly he shook his head. "Nevermind. None of my business." He stood as if to leave and brushed the remaining snow off the back of his pants. If she was a hunter... well, he didn't know what he'd do but he wouldn't let her hurt the people he cared about. outfit (NOTES) ugh, not my best work

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[Elizabeth Marie Jethrow]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true]

[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/odtXhe3.png] warning for mature language and mature themes text | speak It was amusing how Cayden continued to fight an inner turmoil so close to the full moon while Jethrow sat as calmly as ever - hands tucked neatly between her folded legs to keep her fingers warm in the cold. It was probably nice to be like Cayden with his higher body temperature and his ability to be comfortable in simply a hoodie and sweats. She sighed longingly. "Literally speaking it wouldn't be the most practical place," she said, rocking her head to one side as she spoke. Her own money was tucked away in various places collecting interest or dust, one of the two. She wouldn't carry it with her to places like this unless she thought she might spend a night at a coffee shop after watching the lights of the town flicker in the distance. But she usually found herself tiptoeing back into her apartment at ungodly hours and crawling into bed until about ten the next morning. It was the things like this that made Jethrow a calm person, though. One might assume speaking to her was like dancing on a mine field, but her own therapeutic methods kept her emotions at bay. You could ask her about anything - perhaps she wouldn't give you the full truth like the fact that she was a hunter and so was her entire family - and she'd tell you anything she felt like what would satisfy someone's curiosity. 'Oh, my father's a cripple and my mother's taking care of him'. 'My brother's gone away and I haven't seen him for a while.' They were vague but true, and it was information like this that Jethrow would feed people. She didn't get hurt, didn't suffer from the pain of the past. If that were the case, she probably would have killed Cayden the second she shook his hand and then spit in his face as he bled on the floor. A minefield was not something Jethrow would use to describe herself and her emotions. You could tell her almost anything and she'd calmly respond - or at least, try to. But, here she went, saying the wrong thing again. Was it possible for a person to be able to take care of themselves and not want to kill off a subspecies? She shook her head at the stiff silence that followed. Why couldn't she just admit she was a little scared? Lie a little, seem normal? It appeared both of these kids were a little too uncomfortable with appearing like normal people. "I believe 'em, yeah." She pursed her lips and nodded her head, stopping herself from mentioning that she was completely aware of it and oh hey, by the way, aren't you a werewolf too? She opened her mouth to speak again but Cayden had suggested she forget it, but she protested. "Don't worry about it." She paused only slightly before continuing. "I'm my dad's only daughter, so he sent me to karate classes and the like when I was little. I wasn't really taught to fear anything and to protect myself." She watched him stand up and her gold eyes darkened - she scared him off. Good job, Jethrow. She kept talking and tried to get him to stay. "I just don't see the point in fearing what you can't control. If you're scared of everything, life's too short." Her hands moved in front of her and gestured to match her words. "And it's stuff like this that if I were scared, I wouldn't be able to come up here and enjoy the view. It's places like these I wanna take someone special and just sit with them and enjoy their company. It's romantic." She paused and smiled, looking towards the city for a moment. She hated being cliche but she usually spoke her mind, and hey, that's what came up. Her eyes eventually wandered back to Cayden if he was still standing there. "If I were afraid of the big bad wolf, I would be missing out on this and I never would have come to Converse to start off with. And I don't think wolves deserve the awful reputation they get." table by sophia

[Cayden Thomas Murphy]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #335588 solid; border-bottom: 10px #335588 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 871 ( TAGGED ) open ( WOLF FORM ) CLICKY Cayden knew Jethrow believed in werewolves even before she confirmed it. The conversation so far had led him to believe that with a fair level of certainty. She believed, and she wasn't afraid. The only conclusions he could come to were that she was a hunter, or she was batshit crazy. He was too accustomed with those conclusions. Most people who believed fell into one of those two categories. Those who were afraid and had guns or those who were just afraid. To talk to someone who held no apparent fear was strange in a way he couldn't explain. And he wasn't afraid, he realized. Her heart rate was even. There was no scent of nervous sweat. The woman didn't even fidget. Yeah, either she was a hunter or batshit crazy. There was no other option. Only growing more tense the more Jethrow talked, he managed to keep his seat until she spoke of being taught to protect herself. It might be a normal human thing. He knew there were murderers, thieves, rapists and stuff out there that the average human might need to protect themselves from, but there was something in the way she said it that made a shiver run down his spine. Then he realized. It was that lack of fear she had. She was completely confident in her abilities and wouldn't be afraid to use them in a dangerous situation. That's when he stood. Time to check out, though he kept his movements as casual as he could manage. "I just don't see the point in fearing what you can't control. If you're scared of everything, life's too short." Don't fear what you can't control? He nearly laughed and considering how close the full moon was, that was saying something. As it was, he grinned with a half scoff at the comment. He always had to fear what he couldn't control. If not fear, at least have a healthy respect for it. Without meaning to, he looked at the moon again. It was pretty, but did he fear it? Maybe. Maybe it was just a healthy respect. What he feared more was himself under the moon's influence and that fell into the category of things he couldn't control. He wondered if her saying accounted for lycanthropy. Besides, he had roughly three centuries left to his life. He could afford a little bit of fear for the time being. It would make sure he lived to see those centuries. Cayden turned to walk away, making it only a few casual steps before Jethrow was talking again. Rambling, really. He looked over his shoulder, arching an eyebrow when she started talking about romance. Oddly, the rambling and her wistfulness softened him toward her somewhat. She could still be dangerous, but then again, so could he. Probably more so than her, but he didn't want to take any chances. He stayed where he was, mostly facing away from her as she turned and locked her eyes on him. Her next words, however, made him turn to face her, his head cocked in confusion. That's not something a hunter would say and he wanted to ask her what she was if not a hunter, but he didn't. This woman was an enigma. Shaking his head, he started to grin, amused at what seemed like an impossible situation. He was usually pretty good at reading people, but Jethrow was different. He couldn't pin her down. She wasn't afraid, knew how to defend herself, was a romantic, and thought his kind didn't deserve their reputation? His grin finally broke under the moon's pressure, though he wasn't as angry as before. "Some of them deserve it. Not all, but some. That's the part I don't get about society. If a human robs a bank, the cops don't execute all the employees and customers there. But if one wolf hurts someone, they're all sentenced to die? Seems a little harsh to me." His mother had been killed by hunters and she wouldn't have harmed a hair on anyone's head. She could hardly even bring herself to hunt animals. Cayden shook his head at himself again, but slowly moved back to the bench. Instead of sitting, he leaned against the arm of it instead, arms crossed over his chest. It helped with the illusion that he was cold, but in reality he was just being defensive. The moon still pulled at him, nagging and insistent. He ignored it. His eyes sought Jethrow, weighing her. He replayed the conversation so far in his mind, trying to figure her out. One heartbeat. Two. Three. Then he uncrossed his arms and stared even more. "You already know, don't you?" He could hear the incredulity in his own voice. Definitely time to go. Past time. More than past time. He backed away from this redheaded enigma, not afraid for himself, but afraid nonetheless. One person knowing what he was could lead to others knowing. More than that, it could lead to her knowing about his pack, his family. He kept backing away, refusing to turn his back on her, doing his best to keep his eyes from fading to a luminous yellow-gold. outfit

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[Elizabeth Marie Jethrow]

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[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/odtXhe3.png] warning for mature language and mature themes text | speak The silence shared between them was tense, but Jethrow didn't flinch. She remained calm, per usual, and her eyes grew dark as she watched a few of the lights go out in the town. Residential homes closed down as businesses stayed open a little later. Her eyes moved from the town to Cayden's face as his lips parted to speak. Some of them deserve it. Not all, but some. She smiled. When Jethrow was a little girl, she could remember her father telling her stories of the big bad wolf. Little Red Riding Hood was her favorite, and she'd always hide under the blankets when the wolf walked Little Red to her grandmother's house. But in the end when the wolf was killed and the family lived, she always rejoiced. She often asked why wolves were so bad. Her father always said because they were monsters, and monsters were very very bad. When she found out about werewolves, Jethrow didn't know the difference between humans and werewolves. But Daddy always taught her what to look for. He taught her to shake someone's hand when she met them, and if their hands were really hot without being sweaty, that was a sign that their family was made up of monsters. He told her that under a full moon, they shifted and when they shifted, they became the monster. They killed people, he said, and for that we have to kill them. We have to protect the good people from the bad. So when she found someone who had a really really hot handshake, she'd be their friend. Her family would stalk their family until the full moon and see if anything suspicious happened. Jethrow was fully aware. The kid would be absent from class for a week or never come back again, and the teacher would say something awful happened. But Jethrow would get pretty new toys or dresses or anything that made her happy. Because she did a good thing - she found the monsters. This happened until her senior year of high school. As she got older, she'd kill the werewolves herself. When the wolf was dead, she'd carve the silver bullet out and add it to her collection of the bullets that had killed wolves. It was a trophy to her parents and her brother smiled about it the most. 'Good job Jethrow,' he'd say. 'You're doing so well.' They didn't deserve it. Jethrow was more of a monster than werewolves were. It was why she didn't think of them as horrible. Jethrow was the monster everyone was scared of. And she knew it. And when her brother changed and she couldn't kill him, he understood how the children felt when their parents died. She couldn't raise her hand to another wolf in violence ever again. She wanted to cry. But she didn't. She didn't flinch. No trace of sadness touched her at all. Instead, she held her smile and looked up towards Cayden. You already know, don't you? "I've known since you shook my hand." A mistake on his part, if she were still the savage she grew up to be. But here, she was a lost princess - waiting for her Prince Charming to come and sweep her off her feet. To turn her into a werewolf. It was what she wanted now. "My brother's one of you. A werewolf. I've been around them my whole life and that's why I'm not afraid. Because I know most of you try to be good. You can't control it, but you try anyway. It's noble." She looked back to the town and her smile had faltered and then faded into a more serious expression. "And there are plenty of things out there that is worse than dying or becoming a werewolf." Try living with yourself with countless murders on your hands. She felt like Lady Macbeth, but minus the insanity that came along with it. Out, damn'd spot! out, I say!—One; two: why, then 'tis time to do't.—Hell is murky.—Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our pow'r to accompt?—Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? table by sophia

[Cayden Thomas Murphy]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #335588 solid; border-bottom: 10px #335588 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 667 ( TAGGED ) open ( WOLF FORM ) CLICKY Cayden was used to being hunted. He was used to being part of a hunted species. The behaviors that kept him and his pack alive might not be born to him, but he'd grown up learning to act human, learning to blend in and to keep the secret. He hated pretending and he hated having to lie to people who probably didn't deserve it, but he knew why they did it. For all the times he toed the line on secrecy, he knew the price of exposure. Even so, he'd never had someone figure it out so quickly. Especially not someone he'd just met only moments ago. If even a handful of the hunters out there were as smart as this girl... they were all dead. Even panicked as he was, there was a small part of him that was strangely proud that she'd figured it out. Not that he'd had anything to do with it, but he could admire good observation. Of course, he could also fear it, and did. His steps backward were slow but steady, the way a human might back away from a bear in the woods. Through sheer willpower, his features remained completely human though the need to shift and defend himself made his skin crawl and his muscles ache. He really should take a minute and focus on his breathing, but Jethrow was talking and he focused on that instead. A handshake. Cayden was momentarily confused before he realized that he'd be warmer than her. Her fingers had been cold, yes, but he didn't know he'd felt that warm to her hand. Well, he'd be more careful next time... if he lived that long. Not that Jethrow was being threatening. Quite the opposite, in fact. His steps slowed even further, eyes narrowing in confusion as she continued talking. By the time she was done, he stood motionless but more relaxed than he had been before. He cocked his head at her again, questioning. "You're brother's a wolf?" Cayden idly wondered if he knew the guy. It was possible, but unlikely if he wasn't from around here. Cayden didn't exactly get out much. So Jethrow was on their side? He hated himself for even thinking of it that way. It wasn't a war. Or he didn't want it to be. As the panic subsided, Cayden started to feel foolish. He wasn't usually embarrassed or ashamed of himself, but that didn't mean he couldn't admit when he'd made a mistake. He watched in silence as her smile faltered. "And there are plenty of things out there that is worse than dying or becoming a werewolf." A much calmer Cayden walked back to the bench, though he was still slow to approach. "I'm sorry." Something had obviously happened in this woman's past. A happy, carefree childhood wouldn't put that look on her face. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I happen to be a little on edge and I'm still half convinced you're a hunter." He didn't anymore. Not really. Still, he looked at her as if trying to figure her out, all pretense of being human gone. Cayden carefully sat back down on the bench, wondering what about werewolves was so noble. It was control themselves or slaughter people. It wasn't nobility. It was necessity. He'd had a few close calls himself. On one occasion, he even went after a human. It had taken three other wolves, a broken leg, some serious gashes down his side, and two tranquilizer darts to stop him. It wasn't his proudest moment even if he had been provoked. Still, nothing about that was noble and he couldn't understand how she saw it that way. It piqued his curiosity in the strangest way and he couldn't help asking, "How are we noble? We control ourselves, or risk exposure and get hunted down like dogs. We control ourselves because we have to. I don't call that nobility." outfit (NOTES) Not my best work. :(

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[Elizabeth Marie Jethrow]

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[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/odtXhe3.png] warning for mature language and mature themes text | speak Jethrow had expected him to run and never come back. It would have been the natural reaction, but then again, Cayden wasn't quite 'natural' as her parents would say. When he wheeled backward she watched him out of her peripheral, completely comfortable with him running off into the night. After all, years of training allowed her to probably find out his biggest secret in a matter of seconds. Of course, the context that their encounter was in aided her in affirming his species, but it was still strange, and she understood that. What confused her the most was when he stopped. Her head turned so she could look at him, a fire burning in her molten golden eyes. There was a curiosity that buzzed around her head as to whether or not Cayden had ever met Benjamin, her brother. The odds could be good, but Jethrow was aware of how many werewolves there were in this world and maybe, just maybe, they were still strangers. Benny, after being changed, probably ran off to wallow in his own misery. He was a hunter after all and Jethrow didn't have it in her to kill him when he begged and pleaded. She wasn't even sure she'd be able to look his brother in the eye anymore after that. Or maybe he'd already turned himself up to be hunter fodder before she even skipped down that day. "I doubt you know him," she finally said. She didn't even know him anymore. Her composure visibly became more meager and downtrodden. She blinked as Cayden walked back to the bench. Why was he still here? She basically scared him off and all she did to bring him back was throw herself a pity party. It wasn't that she wanted one, but as things trucked along, emotion seemed to get the better of her. She was usually so good at keeping a smile on her face and keeping all her emotions in check. To listen to herself spill information was embarrassing, yet here Cayden stood, sympathizing with her. She wouldn't have found it so awkward if she hadn't been so independent all her life and taking care of her own problems. She didn't like people hearing about them. When he apologized, she didn't know how to respond. She opened her mouth to say something but no words came to her lips. He shouldn't be apologizing - he didn't do anything wrong. "Don't worry about it," she finally said, recollecting herself and her thoughts. "But I can assure you I'm not a hunter." The word 'anymore' died on her lips. "Just aware, I suppose." She shrugged and managed to smile again. Jethrow's eyes wandered over Cayden's face when he sat. During silences she wish she could be a mind reader - find the right thing to say while knowing what others were thinking. But, here she sat, completely clueless as to how this conversation had twisted and turned so much and why this werewolf was still by her side. She mentally sighed and when she looked back on the town below, Cayden spoke once more. "It's noble because you still choose to do the right thing. Werewolves can outsmart hunters - I've seen it." She swallowed hard. "You could just do what you wanted and kill anyone who caught you. You have that power. But you still chose to do the right thing and stay out of harm's way. I don't know - if I had to fight every instinct inside myself nearly every day to do what's right, I don't know how long I could do it." table by sophia

[Cayden Thomas Murphy]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #335588 solid; border-bottom: 10px #335588 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 576 ( TAGGED ) open ( WOLF FORM ) CLICKY Cayden figured it was his distaste for hiding that brought him back to the bench and the strange red-haired woman who sat there. Some part of him wanted humans to know about him; to know about all of them. He wanted that acceptance that he knew he'd never get. His species were monsters to most people. Even outside of Converse. He'd seen (and laughed at) plenty of werewolf movies and they usually ended in a great deal of bloodshed and the wolf's death. There were veins of truth in each of them, but the whole idea of most of them was laughable. And it also illustrated just how humans saw werewolves. Unstable. Dangerous. Unpredictable. Monstrous. Evil. Cayden hated that with a passion. They were just people living their lives, if a bit differently than humans did. That was no reason to hunt them down. Humans were probably just afraid of what they didn't understand, but that didn't give them the right to kill off his pack and his family. Jethrow said she wasn't a hunter, but there was something about the way she said it that made him cock his head at her. Just aware. Right. Well, as long as she wasn't threatening him, he was okay with her. He liked the idea of a human knowing about him and not attempting to take his head back home in a bag to mount on her wall. It was refreshing. And the more humans who knew and understood, at least a little bit, was one step closer to being able to completely "come out of the closet" so to speak. Though it was a pipe dream. It would never happen and he knew it. Still, he could wish. Cayden kept his eyes on Jethrow as she studied him. He was curious and confused by humans, especially those who didn't run screaming like he figured most of them would. Did that mean that werewolves created their own fate? Did humans think they were monsters because they expected to be treated that way? Those were deep thoughts and something he didn't want to think about. Jethrow turned her head and stared out over the town before speaking. "We don't fight our instincts all the time. Just when we're dangerous." Like now. Sure he was acting calmer, but a very large part of him just wanted to rip something apart. He ignored it as best he could. "If we gave in to that particular instinct, we'd give ourselves away and get hunted down even more than we are now. It's survival. Blend in or die." He paused a moment. "Or live wild. I've heard some packs do that. Personally, I prefer a warm bed at night... cell phones... greasy cheeseburgers from McDonald's..." There was a wistful note to his voice now and a slight smile on his face. He liked some human things. Then he shook his head. "Still, I don't think that's nobility. We have rules about the things we do. No attacking hunters unless they attack first. So we might have the power to do some damage if we wanted to, but what would that gain us? Actually, we could probably wipe out the human population here within a day or so. Then what? Hunters flock here and kill us right back." Not that he wanted to kill anyone, really. He'd never killed anyone before and didn't intend to start. outfit (NOTES) Crap post is crap! D:

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[Elizabeth Marie Jethrow]

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[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/odtXhe3.png] warning for mature language and mature themes text | speak Just aware did seem strange enough - how aware could one person be? The way Jethrow analyzed a situation, the way she could easily pick out the differences, however minute, between a human and werewolf was astonishing. Cayden was right to be suspicious, but at the same time, horribly out of line. Perhaps she had the hunter instincts to pick you out amongst a crowd of your peers and she was horribly dangerous if you truly wanted to know, but she was still unaffiliated with the society hunters lived in. In fact, if she were to find a hunter face to face with a werewolf it was about to kill, she'd gladly stand between and slay the hunter and let the wolf live. All she could see in every wolf was her brother or some faint image of him. She wanted to find him, but, dreams were for little girls and she was grown now. She fell into a silence when Cayden talked. She's ranted about nobility but Cayden had found his kind rather.. well, unnoble, if that was a word. She was aware of werewolves perhaps as aware as they were of themselves. She knew how they thought, how they reacted. How the full moon gripped them by the gut and threw them around like a chew toy when they were supposed to change. It was what made her so efficient as a hunter and her parents before her. When Cayden spoke of human things that people like Jethrow would take for granted - fast food, a warm bed, a sense of normalcy - she nodded and laughed lightly. She'd met werewolves who loved what they were. So wild, free, unattached from a material human life. Yet, it seemed, there was always a desire to be normal somewhere under it all. She figured it was a safety mechanism rather than just an outright denial of what they were. "I gotcha," she started, still chuckling and smiling slightly. Why anyone would want fast food was beyond her, and perhaps that was why she found this mildly comical. "It's an endless struggle. That's true enough." She stood up finally, stretching a little before seating herself back down. It wasn't as cold as it was when she first got out here, but she'd gotten used to it. "Speaking of human things," she decided to drop the nobility subject - two opposing perspectives weren't going to go anywhere - and bring up a more casual conversation perhaps with less tension and emotion. "Want to grab a bite at a restaurant or something?" I'll pay, she was going to say, but she'd wait for him to say yes first, if he was even going to. She figured she owed him something for sitting out here and talking to her. She didn't think she was the best person to talk to in the middle of the night. ooc| talk about crappy posts. where has all my muse gone?? table by sophia

[Cayden Thomas Murphy]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #335588 solid; border-bottom: 10px #335588 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 705 ( TAGGED ) jethrow ( WOLF FORM ) CLICKY Cayden didn't think there was much noble about his species, but he was still proud of what he was. He liked being a werewolf and thought he would go insane if he was forced into being human. He couldn't imagine not being able to smell his environment. That was his biggest issue. And it wasn't that he saw humans as weak, really. It just wasn't for him. He'd been born this way and he liked it. Some humans were even kind of cool. That didn't mean he wanted to be one. Although, being a slave to the moon did suck sometimes. He was fighting it - both the anger and the urge to shift that made his skin crawl. Just thinking about it made him shudder involuntarily and he grimaced. It wasn't quite close enough to the full moon that he was in danger of losing control, not unless he was provoked. But it was still uncomfortable. He dug his fingernails into the wood of the bench as if that would help him hang on to himself. Cayden had to snort at Jethrow's comment about an endless struggle. That was for damn sure. It got tiring after awhile, fighting his nature. That's why, even though he was old enough now to resist the full moon, he usually gave in and shifted when he could. It might not help the anger issues, but at least it didn't feel like he was being torn in half that way. For awhile, at least. Then he'd be forced back into human society and they didn't take kindly to a giant wolf running around their quaint little town. When Jethrow stood up and stretched, Cayden did the same. He raised his arms above his head, his back arched. Yeah, that didn't help either. Nothing but shifting would get rid of the sensation. As she sat back down, he remained standing, just breathing through all the uncomfortable crap his body was going through. "Want to grab a bite at a restaurant or something?" Cayden looked at her, then back out over the town. That didn't sound like a proposition for a date. Not to say that Jethrow wasn't pretty, but he wasn't exactly attracted to her either. "I would, but I have to feed my brother. You'd think that he'd know how to feed himself since he's older than me, but the guy can't cook worth a damn." And Cayden knew from experience. Having basically been raised by Carter, he'd consumed his fair share of the burnt macaroni and cheese and the microwaved hot dogs growing up. About the only thing of his brother's that he could stomach was the jelly sandwiches. There weren't many ways to screw that up. Sighing, he brought his eyes back to Jethrow. "Besides, I don't think it's exactly safe at the moment." He'd already been in town today, working a five hour shift behind a grill, but he didn't want to push his luck. There came a time during the month that he was only around people when he had to be. It was less risky that way, considering his history of losing his cool at the drop of a hat. Cayden didn't want to just brush the woman off, though. If she was hungry, he could feed her. He tucked his hands in his pockets before speaking. "You know... I work at the diner already as a cook so I could make whatever they serve. Since I have to cook for Carter anyway, I could make you something and we could all talk or whatever." He shrugged, not knowing how she'd feel being invited to the home of a couple random werewolves and he didn't want her to think she'd be on the menu or something either. "I even have the stuff to make salads and such." He knew humans ate lettuce. He'd seen it. So gross. Well, the offer was out there. He just really wanted to be home in his own environment without having to play human any more today. Jethrow already knew what he was. He'd be himself and if she didn't like it, well, then she just didn't like it. outfit (NOTES) He has a mind of his own.

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[Elizabeth Marie Jethrow]

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[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/odtXhe3.png] warning for mature language and mature themes text | speak Having her invitation shot down wasn't surprising - though perhaps shot down wasn't an accurate phrase. He had declined but had found a loop hole in which they could still share a meal, perhaps become acquaintances and continue their shifty friendship that had only formed throughout the night. Perhaps to any - sane - person, going out in public to grab a bite to eat with a werewolf was a strategic move, but with a skilled hand, Jethrow didn't mind going behind closed doors with a werewolf. She'd survive, certainly, and this boy surely wasn't a harm, as far as she could tell. "You have a brother?" was the first question she managed to ask. "What's his name?" So she doesn't show up awkward. Introductions had never been something she excelled at, and knowing his name before hand would probably help her out in moving an awkward situation along. "And he can't cook - what the hell?" Jethrow was a mean cook to be fair - she had to take care of herself a good deal of the time when her family was gone, and well, she decided to teach herself some things while they were gone. Going into town would be a bad idea, though? Oh, right, the werewolf thing, the almost full moon. It clicked together in her head after a moment or two of considering it, and she shrugged, stood up, and dusted her clothing off gently, tidying herself up and making herself look presentable for the next gentleman she'd meet. Tonight was just such a social night for her. And perhaps that was sad that meeting two new people was considered extremely 'social', but it was the way she was. Such a solitary creature not by her own will but by the cards given to her. C'est la vie. "That sounds nice," she said to his final offer. Cooking salads and anything a diner would serve - cool! The fact that Cayden could cook such foods was interesting, but she didn't mention another word of it. Her lips sealed and her hands gestured to say 'shall we?' ooc | YEAH BAD POST WOO table by sophia