Welcome to SU: Legacy, a next-gen Supernatural RP that takes place in the year 2040. The Men of Letters has expanded to include three base locations across the continental US. Angels and demons have gone mostly dormant but there are still supernatural evils lurking in the shadows. The legacies could use your help. Are you in?
Giving credit where credit is due. A big thank you to all the coders at PBS and various resource sites for any codes, plug-ins and templates.
Thanks to Nick @ Fidelius for the fabulous mini-profile. Everything else was created by our own staff. If we missed someone please let us know.
We don't own Supernatural, we just enjoy it's awesomeness. Thanks Eric Kripke for creating it, all the writers/producers for putting out a great show and the CW for keeping it on the air for almost 10 years now!
I was strolling through the park one day... (Open)
Runyon Canyon Park: one hundred and sixty acres of green in a landscape of sparkling lights and brown sand. It was a park of trails, of flowers and fountains, valleys and peaks. It was also the perfect place for a she-wolf to roam freely without being too terribly noticed.
Nakita sat on a park bench after her day shift at the hospital. She was watching the sunset as she nibbled on the sandwich she procured from the local Subway for dinner, mostly picking at the meat and pickles while leaving the rest. She still wore her uniform scrubs, bright pink bottoms and a top decorated with Whinnie- the- Pooh. Her white nursing shoes and socks had been removed and set to the side. She liked to feel the grass between her toes and beneath her feet.
As it was getting darker, less and less people would walk past, except for a few joggers, or others out walking their dogs. The park had set aside a bunch of land for people to walk their dogs unleashed. Nakita smiled at that though, knowing how horrid it was to have to be degraded so. Animals can walk on their own, they do not need people to tell them to do so... she thought to herself as she watched a dog and owner coming her direction from down the path. It was such a small thing, a chihuahua. It waddled quickly after the man tugging on its leash.
As they neared, the dog stopped and looked at her, sniffing the air. Kit stared back, watching it closely. It began to bark, but was muted and dragged away by the man, who seemed very much in a hurry. She blinked after it, a pickle hanging between her lips. When it was out of sight, she sighed, putting her sandwich away to watch the remainder of the sunset. One day... she thought, ... one day...
Pope sighed; rush hour was all the same no matter what city you were in. The 101 south bound moved at a snail’s pace. Though Pope could move easily if not slowly though the space between cars however he had been doing so for the better part of an hour and a half, his ass was growing hot and tired. Seeing an exit just a head the Spaniard decided it would be best to hang out till traffic died down some. As he shifted lanes and took the exit ramp he saw a sign marking Runyon Canyon park, Pope wondered if he could get a descent view of the setting sun from up on the hill. His chopper’s engine roared as he drove up the asphalt to the top of the hill following the signs to the parking lot and the Canyon’s entrance.
Pulling into an open space and flicking the kick-stand out, Pope killed the engine. Removing his helmet, a simple, black hard cap with a black nylon strap running under his chin, and moved off his seat Pope crouched down to stretch his leg muscles. He gave a sigh of relief and stood before unzipping his black leather jacket and placing the helmet and folded jacket into his saddle bag with his .45 1911. One thing about a Chopper, there wasn’t much space to store your things.
Just as he stood a soft breeze blew through the canyon, bringing with it the scents of the city collected. It was almost overwhelming to try and decipher them all. Rather, Pope took the scent in for what it was, a mere taste of the diverse city. However, for a moment Pope thought he caught the scent of something, or someone strange. He shook his head and snorted clearing his nostrils of the menagerie of scents and began walking along the path casually. It was good to be out, in the open away from cars on either side on him in the heat for as long as the eye could see.
The view was spectacular; this was Pope’s first time in Los Angeles, his fist stop even. He had been traveling south from San Francisco since dawn. He had hoped to take the coast all the way down to Mexico however somewhere near Ventura; Pope took the wrong exit and got on the 101 right as the evening rush was starting. As Pope walked he saw people jogging, Pope watched and smiled and picked up his own pace jogging himself it was good to stretch his legs after sitting on a bike all day. Soon his jog became a full blown sprint, his arms churning like pistons as his legs propelled him forward. His was wearing riding boots and not running shoes so he slipped a little and almost took a spill.
Chuckling to himself, Pope slowed his pace back down to a jog then to a walk; his enhanced physicality made such sprints all but effortless for him. Rounding a bend Pope caught the first full glimpse of the sun setting into the ocean beyond the city. Pope smiled and rested his hands on his hips and walked forth off the path and watched as the sun sank lower into the horizon. So transfixed on the scene Pope missed the young woman at the bench just off to his left.
A soft breeze danced through the park, coming around the canyon from the city. Kit turned her face towards it, closing her eyes, breathing in deeply. All the different aromas wafted through the air, hitting her heightened sense of smell. She could pick them out one by one, as easily as if she were walking past its location. All of the different restaurants: Italian, Mexican, Spanish, German, Chinese, and almost anything else you could imagine; the smell of cars: fuel, oil, leather, rust. The ocean, far off rain, sweat, blood, sewage, too many to list, all things no one else could possibly detect with just a simple breeze.
All of the other people, she thought, get to enjoy it as just that, a simple breeze. The wind blowing in your face, the coolness against your skin, the way it blew your hair back from your face, as it was doing hers now. They don't know what secrets the wind holds, but she does. It was a curse sometimes, the foul odors that plagued her nose, but others, not so much. They way the blooms of Spring laced the air, a Summer's storm rolling in off the salty ocean, the crisp scents of ripe fruits of Fall, or the cold cleanness of crisp Winter's day. All of these things made Kit glad she could enjoy them, knowing the simpleness of that pleasure. Sometimes it was enough to outweigh the bad things.
She also used her skills for work. It was easier for her to tell why a person was sick. Had they been drinking? Where they suffering from a diabetic coma? What drug did they overdose on? These were always easy for her to answer, and why she was one of the top ER nurses. It was something good she could use her "condition" for.
As she sat with her eyes closed, feeling her hair blow back from her shoulders, the sun on her face, she took another deep breathe, but froze. There was a new smell touching the wind, an almost familiar one, but with an oddity. She knew that smell, but how could it be? There were no other werewolves in this part of the city, at least that she knew of, she would have smelled them before. The scent was near, just ahead of her. It was the same breeze, so whoever it was must have just come upwind from a moment ago.
Kit opened her eyes and looked around her. She couldn't see anyone except for a man, standing across the way from her, watching the sunset. She looked at him, giving the air another try as her nose flared a little with the intake of breath. He smelled of leather and sweat, of being on the road too long, and of something else. He smelled of... werewolf. She sat perfectly still, her eyes not exactly on him, not making a sound. If she was aware of him, then he was most definitely aware of her. She didn't know if he was wild, but she really didn't want to find out the hard way.
Casually, she picked up part of her sandwich and started to pick at it again, acting as if she hadn't noticed anything.
Pope stood and watched as the sun descended into the ocean beyond the city, once the last burning embers of the star vanished behind the horizon Pope turned with a smile on his face. Some sights were so simple but the most beautiful to be hold. Some people took a setting sun for granted, but to watch it was proof beyond the shadow of a doubt that there was a God. Pope’s curse proved irrefutably that there too was a devil. Pope was pushing the thoughts of heaven and hell far from his mind and that was when he noticed the girl on the bench, his dark eyes settled on her for a moment as he moved to walk back to his bike.
He moved back to the jogging path behind her when the breeze picked up again bringing him to a dead stop. Pope’s nostrils flared as he caught the unmistakable scent of another werewolf. Pope swallowed softly and bit his bottom lip; he stared at her for a moment and walked to back to the girl keeping himself at a non-threatening distance. He saw that she was eating her sandwich perhaps a little too intently, if he caught her scent than she undoubtedly caught his. Pope cleared his throat gently and lifted a hand to pass it through his short dark hair and spoke with a thick Castilian accent.
“Hello there…”
He didn’t quite know what to say, “Hola, mi nombre es el Papa. Cogí su olor en el viento, yo soy un hombre-lobo también. ¿Le importaría a oler entrepiernas?” (Hello, my name is Pope. I caught your scent on the wind, I am a werewolf too. Would you care to sniff crotches?). One had to be careful when meeting other werewolves. One never knew quite what to expect.
A simple glance usually won't grab anyone's attention, people do it every day. A stare will hit you like a ton of bricks. When Pope stared at Kit, she froze, shifting her eyes up to look at him. He was coming towards her, but stopped before invading the threatening distance. This was, after all, her territory, and he was obviously not trying to encroach on it.
In the canine world, there is a pecking order. Every wolf has their own territory, their own space marked as theirs. When another comes in and threatens that authority, things get ugly. In the human world, there is pretty much the same order. Those with seats of power tend not to want to give them up. The ensuing conflict is a lot less simple and straight forward as it is in the canine world, but no less deadly. When those two worlds collide in people like Kit and Pope, it was far more complicated.
Kit looked the man up and down. He seemed to be a traveler, and tired and he had an intriguing accent. She visibly relaxed and gave him a small smile. "Hello," she replied, her own accent a mix of blunt Native American and flowing Italian. Not the New England Italians, like you see in movies, but the real 'from Italy' kind. "You look like you could use a sit down. Care for a sandwich?" She offered him the untouched half of her sub still wrapped in the paper, scooting over on the bench so there was plenty of room to sit.
A smile formed on Pope’s face as his eyes met hers, though he had been sitting for hours he couldn’t pass up an invitation from a beautiful woman, a werewolf woman. It wasn’t often that you ran into other werewolves, most tried to remain hidden and were fairly successful at it; however you could always sniff out another of your own. Pope had only met a couple a handfuls of other werewolves since becoming one himself. It was nice to run into someone who could identify with some of the things that he had gone though. Pope wasn’t hungry, not until he glanced down and saw the sandwich. His stomach growled and his hunger began to gnaw at him. He had been riding all day without stopping to eat.
“Oh, yes, thank you very much. My name is Pope.”
Pope said in his accented English and sat down on the side opposite of her, an arm’s length away then slowly extended a hand out to her. She seemed friendly enough but due to their more animalistic natures things could shift in an instant.
She watched him as he sat down, keeping a pleasant smile on her face. She looked down at his hand as he extended it. It wasn't every day that you met another werewolf. Some were nice, like she was, but some were not so pleasant, some even not so pleasant on accident. Though, sometimes it was just nice to have someone to talk to, who knows exactly how you feel and what you've been through.
"Don't mention it. I'm Nakita." she said as she reached her arm out and laid the wrapped up sandwich into his extended hand, her fingers lightly gliding across his as she pulled her hand away. "Though most people call me Kit," she added, then motioned to the sandwich. "It's an Italian, with salami and pepperoni," she offered, then moved an open bag of Doritos between them. "Ranch flavour."
He seemed nice enough, and she liked his smile, and mostly his eyes. She met them briefly with her own. They were dark and warm, tinted with a bit of regret. Though, who's eyes don't? She dug her toes into the grass as she relaxed a bit more, looking down at her own sandwich, picking out a pickle and eating it. "You're accent is intriguing, where are you from?"
Pope blinked in surprise as she placed the sandwich in his hand rather than shake it. His surprise faded as quickly as it came, regaining his composure he smiled gratefully and nodded to her. Nakita, it had a pleasant ring to it. Whenever he heard it he always thought of that Luc Besson film La Femme Nikita. Pope smiled and pulled back the paper around the sandwich and took a bite. The bread was soft, fresh, and delicious, he had to stop himself from wolfing (haha get it?) the sandwich down. He chewed his first bite as he sat back enjoying the last remnants of the day, the sun had already sank beyond the horizon yet the sky was painted in burnt oranges and dark colors.
“Again, thank you for sharing your sandwich, I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. I’ve been riding since this morning.”
Pope said before taking another bite and looking over at her as she posed him a question.
“Oh, why thank you. I was born and raised in Spain, along the Mediterranean coast, just a bit north of Valencia, and you?”
He asked casually stealing a glance at her scrubs, it was pretty obvious she worked in the healthcare industry, with children most likely but it was always polite to engage in friendly conversation especially with the fact that they were both werewolves, Pope was taking mental wagers with himself to see just how long they would skirt or dance around the subject before it was brought up.
"No problem," she said with a smile, taking chip and eating it. So he wasn't from around here. Was that a good thing? Did he come here for a reason, or was he just passing through? "Um, I'm from Florida."
She didn't see a reason to beat around the bush, it wasn't like either of them was in the dark on it. It isn't every day you come across another werewolf, but when you did, it was as obvious as green on grass. She hated it when others knew what she was, stranger or not. They somehow never looked at you the same, and most of those times it was for the worse.
She looked up at the sky, taking glances around them to make sure they were alone. If things were going to get ugly, she'd rather not have innocent people caught in the cross fire. The sun's shades of orange and red was beautiful, occasionally touched by a spare wisp of cloud. Night time would soon fall, bringing with it the moon. It would be full tonight and the call would be stronger to her, but she wouldn't answer it. But what about Pope?
"So, how long have you been doing the furry moonlight tango?"
Pope smiled at her as he ate his sandwich, when she asked about the “…furry moonlight tango.” Pope gave a quick but hard laugh that caused him to snort a little. He had to fight not to choke on his sandwich as he swallowed it down. After a moment he regained his composure and sat up on the bench a little. He stole a glance at the darkening sky. The moon was going to be full tonight. The realization hit Pope almost as a physical blow wood. His eyes shot wide and panic gripped him.
“Dios mio. It is going to be a full moon tonight! I need to get out of the city.”
Pope stood up hastily setting the sandwich down, looking to her. Before his panicked mind settled enough for him to question.
“Wait, where do you go during the full moon?”
Pope asked an eager, worried, edge to his voice as his eyes found hers before stealing another glance at the moon as it creeped higher into the growing night sky.
She blinked up at him, her mouth hanging open in surprise. "Wait, you don't... I mean you can't... ah crap." She gathered everything up and tossed it hurriedly into her bag, not bothering to put her shoes back on. She didn't mind helping him, he was even worried enough to make sure he was away from people when he sprouted fur and a tail. So he obviously wasn't completely bad, right? She stopped and looked up at him when he asked where she went.
"The moon doesn't effect me that way anymore. I ignore the call," she said as she stood, pulling out her keys. "Come on, I know a place where you will be safe, away from people." She motioned to him and headed towards th parking lot, her bag over her shoulder, her bare feet crunching in the grass.
This was just great, the only other werewolf in the area finds her, and goes ape shit when the moon is full. Why didn't people learn to control themselves? She sighed, knowing how hard that actually was. She had been very leery of Pope, but the fact that he seemed so scared to be near people and the city when the moon rose showed her that he had a heart. She spent a lot of her time trying to help those that wanted or needed it. She knew what it was like to have a problem you couldn't fix. But she would do all she could to help those live better with it.
She looked over her shoulder to make sure he was following her. "Don't worry about your car, park security is here all night, we can get it in the morning."
Pope blinked at her response. She ignored it? How did one do that? He wasn't given much choice when the moon rose full. Pope was just barely getting control of memories during his wolf-outs. Now wasn't the time to argue, he had maybe 20 minutes before the sway of the moon was undeniable.
"Its a motor cycle... a chopper."
He followed her to her car stealing a glance up at the sky like it was a crushing weight weighting to fall on him. Pope sighed and hurried after her, keeping pace was no problem even though he didn't know where he was going. She obviously had this thought out a head of time and he had little choice but to trust her.
Kit smiled to herself. A motorcycle? That was sexy. With a mental slap, she quickened her pace, giving occasional glances over her shoulder at him. "We can put it in the back, I have a truck," she offered, not bothering to look up at the sky. She could feel the moon's weight, feel the tingling in the back of her senses. She pushed it away, like a fond memory that was threatening to make you laugh a little too loud.
She exited the park and headed for the parking lot, where her white four door extended cab Ford F-150 sat. She lifted her key chain and hit a button. The lights flashed with a soft chirp chirp! of the alarm disarming. Her bare feet made little smacking sounds against the pavement as she hurried to her truck, opening the back door and throwing her stuff inside before turning to Pope. "Where is your chopper?"
Pope said urgency in his words as he motioned across the aisle to his chopper which sat in a space just opposite of her truck. It was a plain looking thing, not like the flashy eye catching bikes one would see on television, no this cycle was the epitome of what a chopper was and should be. It looked like it was pieced together from three or four bikes, stripped down of any unnecessary ornaments, matte black and chrome. The only addition Pope had added was a coushier seat of thicker foam more suited for extended rides. It was simple but highly functional and that was the way Pope liked it.
Moving over to his bike, Pope lifted his head and took a cursory glance about the parking lot. His enhanced hearing enabled him to hear voices of other people talking as they got into their own cars but no one seemed to be paying any attention to them. Time was running short, they had maybe 18 minutes before the moons sway would take hold of him. Already he could feel his heart begin to race as it pumped blood to all parts of his body in preparation for the change.
There was little time to waist, reaching down he grabbed the chopper by the frame and lifted it up off the ground like it was a ten speed bicycle and carried it over to her truck. Being seen displaying his super natural strength would be the least of his worries if he was caught out in the open when he changed. As big as this park was he had been known to travel as far as 25 miles during a change, and that was in areas where there wasn’t much game. No, they had to do something, he hoped she knew what she was doing.
“Get the tailgate.”
He said in an urgent but hushed tone, drawing attention to them was the last think that he wanted at this moment. Pope could hardly help it, his body was preparing for the shift and the extra adrenaline coursing through his body put him on edge. He would need to ask Nakita just how she learned to ignore the moon’s influence. It had been just over ten years for him and Pope was just barely able to recall what happened during his own transformations. It was a struggle and he didn’t want to hurt anyone, a maddened werewolf in the middle of a city would bring destruction upon innocents the likes that he had only seen back in Kosovo. A chill ran through his body, like someone dumping ice cold water on his back as he thought about what he seen, the attempted genocide, the mass graves.
Pope felt his body threaten to wretch at the memory of being buried under the weight of the dead and rotting. Cold sweat broke out over his brow, upper lip and neck but he forced it down and focused on his breath; that always seemed to calm him. Once the tailgate was lowered Pope set his bike in the bed, laying it at an angle so that it wouldn’t shift as much while she drove.
Kit smiled and nodded towards his bike, "Hey, nice ride." She scoot over and dropped the tailgate. The bed was empty. She was extremely fond of her truck. It reminded her of home, of all the off-roading experiences her father and uncle would take her on. It was pure white, and extremely clean. The interior was a soft black leather and it was equipped well: seat warmers, CD, MP3, sunroof, extended leg room in the rear seating complete with DVD player and personal A/C and heating controls. She knew she wanted a family one day and hey, while she was buying a car, why not go ahead and be prepared? Plus, it was very easy to clean and keep clean.
She crouched and helped Pope lift the bike into the back, glancing up at the moon. The light of the sky reflected from her eyes as she looked around them, white flares of pupils scanning the area to make sure they were alone. She couldn't smell anyone near, nor could she hear anyone, but it was almost time for the night patrolman to make his rounds. Once the bike was in the bed of her truck, she took a single bounding leap up, landing on the tailgate. She reached down for a couple straps and secured the bike quickly into place.
She could tell that Pope was getting extremely anxious, the beating of his heart pounding against her ears, her own heart threatening to join his. "It isn't far, calm down, everything will be just fine," she told him, hopping down from the back of her truck, "My house, it's about ten minutes around the canyon. I have a safe room." She started to usher him towards the cabin of the truck, opening the passenger side door. "Let's go!"
The moon threatened her mind again in all the hurry and panic. She snorted with effort and visibly shivered as she pushed the call away from her mind and heart. It reached out with a vice grip, but she pried its fingers away mentally and shoved it away again. She would need one relaxing bath later, she could tell, but wouldn't complain about that. She wondered how strong he was in when phased, and what form he took. Her safe room could withstand a lot, it might take a fair beating but keeping the city safe was worth it. She had to remember to check the fridge for meat to toss in with him, or go get some.
She smiled to herself as the call quietened, her side roads of thinking distracting her. Works every time! she thought, and nodded.