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)
The compliment on his bike was lost on him, he watched as she strapped his bike down. If her words were meant to be comforting, they weren’t. A “safe room”, that only added to his anxiety as images of a small cell like room entered his mind. When Nakita said “Let’s go”, he turned to look at her and that is when he noticed it, a truck cab. Pope took a deep breath and held hit for a moment as he felt his heart racing, he balled his hands into fist before spreading his fingers open and shaking his hands three or four times. The sky was getting darker by the second. Pope took another deep breath and glanced up at the sky, clinched his eyes closed and blew out a sigh as he climbed into the cab, holding the door open until the truck started and he could roll down the window.
Pope had gone silent as he focused on fighting his anxiety. Being a war vet suffering from PTSD wasn’t difficult enough, but his time spent under the bodies of the dead in a mass grave gave him paralyzing claustrophobia. Both these issues were compounded by his Lycanthropy/Werewolfism whatever you wish to call it. Normally Pope was a really laid back, go with the flow and agreeable, but the moments before the full moon claimed him were when Pope was at his worst. He wasn’t in full control over his transformation and normally he did what he could to remain out in the wilderness, this was an eventuality and Pope was lucky enough to meet someone else who was not only a werewolf but also prepared. What here the chances? Once the truck started he closed the door and rolled down the window sighing in relief as she drove and he could feel the air brush against him.
Kit moved around to the driver's seat as Pope doddled about getting in. She shut her door behind her and cranked the engine, hearing the roar of the motor shimmy to life. She watched him for a moment, taking in his behavior. Her years as a nurse told her exactly what was happening. It had nothing to do with being a werewolf, and everything to do with being human. "You're claustrophobic, aren't you? That just makes it all better..."
She growled to herself and rolled down all the windows and opened the sunroof in an attempt to make the cabin as open as possible. She turned on the A/C to add a breeze and put the truck in gear as he closed the door. She pulled out of the parking spot and headed for the main highway that would lead them to her home. "Hey, it's alright, I get it. I'm a nurse, but there is a serious lack of wilderness around here. I don't think I could keep you in the park. I can give you a sedative but I can't guarantee how long it would last."
She weaved through traffic, not worried about getting pulled over. The local law enforcement new her vehicle and new she sometimes had to hurry to the ER on call. She left the main highway and headed up a winding road with accurate speed. Her house was just up the hill. "Look, the room isn't small, it's the size of the entire floor plan under my house," she told him leaving of the part about there being no windows. The room was large though, very large, open, and spacious. The walls and door and air vents were made of iron, steel, and inlayed with silver strips. There was plenty of breeze from the fan vents.
At the last turn, she hit a small button next to the radio. It was the garage door opener. When they pulled into the drive, the door was open and she pulled quickly into the garage, the door closing behind them. She killed the engine and got out of the truck, moving to the door that lead down to the safe room. "Close your eyes and take my hand," she told him, holding out her left hand for him to take, "Just breathe..."
Pope began to feel a pain grow in his gut, his eyes were dilating and he doubled over in the driver seat. Beads of cold sweat broke out along his brow, face, down his neck and over his back. When the truck stopped, Pope stumbled out of the cab and over to her. He couldn’t manage a reply and instead only uttered a grunt and nodded as best he could. Doubled over, clutching his stomach with his right hand he reached out with his left and groped the air blindly in search for hers. The pain that started in Pope’s stomach had spread up his torso and down his legs, cramping and making it difficult for him to walk.
His bones felt like they were shattering and the jagged edges of bone were cutting his muscles like the serrated edge of a steak knife, his was hardly coherent by the time she lead him into the room. A step past the threshold into the safe-room he fell to his side, and curled into the fetal position. Blinded by pain, Pope’s muscles spasmed and his back arched as if he was being stretched over a large wheel. He yelled out an inhuman cry that was half howl. The sound of bone, cartridge, and sinew breaking then cloth started to tear as his body gained mass. Pope crawled to his hands and knees and let loose another cry of pain as the bones in his face broke, and muscles stretched as it was reshaped into a muzzle. This was not a seamless transition; this was raw, violent, and painful. His body broke and remade its self into a beast, not wholly human but not wholly wolf, a creature as big as a large man, covered in a dark charcoal grey pelt, and features of a wolf.
Kit grabbed his hand and held it tightly within hers, half to reassure him that he wasn't alone and half to hold him steady. She used her other arm to wrap around his waist, hauling him up nearly off the floor, and half carried him down the stairs towards the safe room.
She felt badly for him. She remembered what it was like when the change took you, the pain and agony that it inflicted on your body, the hot fever that swam through your senses. It took her years to learn to control her phasing, and years more to learn to do it quickly. Fast or slow, it was still painful, but at least her phasing wasn't this long and drawn out process anymore.
She could feel his body against her own, breaking and shifting painfully. She grimaced in sympathy, reestablishing her grip on him as they neared the room. Just inside the door, Pope completely lost his footing, and tumbled to the floor. Kit stumbled, falling to a knee next to him as he curled up.
The safe room wasn't small by any means. It took up the entire basement area of her home. It was easily 1500 square feet in size with three very wide and stable supports. The walls, as well as the supports, were made of steel, iron, and concrete. There were several silver pentagrams inlaid into the ceiling and walls, as well as on the door. It was very unlikely that anything entrapped in here was getting out of it's own accord. There was a space along one wall that would allow someone on the outside to slide things into the room without whatever or whoever inside having a chance to get out. It was a sliding drawer, similar to the one that Dr. Lecter had in his cell in Silence of the Lambs but on a grander scale.
Kit needed to get out quick, but hated to leave Pope alone and feeling like this. Her heart ached for him as he howled out in pain and she found herself patting his head in an attempt to comfort him. If she didn't get out and close the door now, getting him here would have been for nothing. She leaned over and spoke to him, knowing he more than likely couldn't hear her, "It will be ok, I'm here, you're safe."
She jumped up and hurried back to the door, giving one last glance at Pope over her shoulder before stepping out and shutting the large and heavy door. She gripped the large bar lock and heaved, bolting the safe room shut. She reached over and flipped on a breaker, turning on the lights and the venting fans inside the room. Moving over to a refrigerator she kept outside the room, she retrieved some raw beef sides she kept for such occasions. She put it into the drawer with a large bowl of water, then slid the drawer carefully in.
She looked through the small glass window inside, making sure that he was ok and that the drawer was opened all the way on the inside. She was sure that he would find it, and hoped that it was good enough in the lack of game.
The smell of raw meat sent the beast whirling, his nose picked out the location before his eyes did and he stalked across the room over to it. The scent of the raw meat made its nostrils flare and its mouth salivate as primal hunger seized the beast. The creature rumbled as it crouched; dark eyes examined the raw meat before it took it up in its monstrous hands and tore into it savagely. It was cold but if it bothered the beast it didn’t show.
Devouring the meat did little to sate the beasts hunger or lust to run and hunt, the rest of the night it spent its time trying to scratch and claw its way out, probing for an opening so that it could get free. The beast was frustrated when it tried to escape and none could be made. The hours of the night passed and the beast wore its self out trying to ram the door until eventually fatigue claimed it. The amount of energy taken to transform into the beast and then the nights efforts set in and the beast was all but forced to curl up.
Sleep came fast, so deep was slumber that Pope didn’t feel when his body unmade itself once again returning him to a man. His fair-skinned body bore the brunt of the beasts bruises; all along his right shoulder, down his arm, and on both forearms were deep purple bruises from where the creature futilely attempted to break free of the cell. Pope was still fast asleep by the time morning came.
As Pope moved for the meat, Kit sighed and headed back up to the garage. She wasn't worried about him escaping, or of neighbors hearing, as the room was sound proof. A failed attempt to keep her own self contained as a child by her parents had made her construction of the all but perfect. She made her way up the stairs back to her truck, making sure that the garage was closed before she headed into the house.
She flicked on some lights and made her way to the kitchen to put on a pot of tea. As her tea was making itself, she disposed of her clothing, tossing them into the laundry room just off the kitchen. Her house was modernly decorated, with touches of warmth with colours and textures. She grabbed her glass of tea and headed up to the master bedroom and bathroom and ran a hot bath. She added some scented oils to the water, pleasing roses not too strong for her enhanced sense of smell.
As her body soaked in the fragrant waters, she dozed off. Her tea, half finished sat on the counter, getting cold. She dreamed, not so much fantasy as a memory.
She was on hard floor of a dark room. She was small, young, only six or seven. Her body was on fire with pain, patches of fur sprouting as her body twisted and contorted in agony of phasing. She could hear her mother outside the room crying, smell the saltiness of the tears running down her cheeks. She could hear the heartbeats of both her parents, the blood rushing through their veins, the scent of it filling her nose, making her crazy with need and lust.
Her hands curled as claws sprang forth from her fingers, her mouth crunching and breaking as long jaws and teeth protruded slowly. A painfully inhuman scream echoed around the room as she tried to call for help, but no one came, as usual. She felt alone, and she whimpered. Then the human was gone, and nothing but the wolf was left. She flung herself at the door with a snarl, smelling the flesh and blood and bone on the other side. Her long furry body slammed against the door with a sickening thud....
Kit awoke with a start, body jerking as water splashed everywhere, the dream memory fresh in her mind, as was the phantom pain coursing through her as her body begged to change. She water was cold and she shivered. She used that cold to ground herself, letting the cold penetrate her body and mind. "No..." she told herself, "You are smarter and stronger than that."
She shook her head and got out of the tub, letting the water out as she grabbed a towel. She wrapped herself in it, thinking about the poor beast down in the room, how alone he must felt. She remembered her dream, and all the times she felt trapped and alone. She wrapped the towel around herself, still half asleep, and made her way back down to the safe room. She looked inside, seeing Pope curled up asleep. He must have worn himself out trying to escape. The meat was gone she could see.
She leaned against the door and slid down to the floor, curling her knees to her chest and promptly fell asleep. By the time she woke again, it was morning, early morning. She saw the light of the sun creeping down the stairs from the garage. Rubbing her face, she got up and looked into the room to find a bruised and naked Pope laying on the floor. He looked so uncomfortable. She felt a pang of sympathy for him and grabbed a blanket from a shelf, securing her own towel before unlocking the door and going to him. She crouched beside him and softly rubbed his hair and cheek, laying the blanket over him. "Pope? Pope, wake up, I'll take you upstairs to a bed so you can rest..."
Pope’s eyes opened as he felt his hand on his face; instinctively he recoiled like a cobra ready to strike. Frantic eyes danced about, for a few moments instead of seeing the safe room he saw the forest in Kosovo, the support beams taking on the shapes of tree trunks. The grey-yellow walls flashed between scenes of the forest to what they really were, concrete walls with silver pentagrams set into them. Pope’s heart was beating like the pistons on his chopper; he could feel the blood throbbing in his veins. After a moment his eyes darted back to her face, blinking as realization finally came to him.
His dark eyes wandered up and met hers, slowly he began to calm and soon he caught her scent and his memory started to come back to him. Pope blew out a low sigh and lifted a hand to rub his face and eyes as if the grogginess would come off just like that. Slowly he sat up and nodded to her. He was aware that he was naked, though when you live such as he does, modesty is quickly lost. With a yawn, a stretch, and groan Pope pushed himself to his feet.
“Gracias, lo siento por ser tan asustado. Estoy bien…” (Thank you, I'm sorry for being so startled. I am fine...)
He said with another yawn, looking around the safe room curiously. The Spaniard was dimly aware of the ache in his muscles, the majority of the bruising was on his right bicep and behind his right shoulder from where he attempted to ram the door down. He was in that period where sleep still claimed his mind and his thoughts were foggy.
“Una taza de café, cigarrillo y voy a estar bien.” (A cup of coffee, cigarette and I will be fine.)
Pope didn’t usually smoke, however he found that mornings after the full moon nothing helped clear his head like a strong cup of black coffee and a cigarette. He yawned again lifting his hand to cover his mouth when he looked at her once again and sighed.
“I’m speaking Spanish aren’t I?”
He asked in his accented English; a small, self-amused smile on his lips.
“Forgive me, when I wake up suddenly I’m not all there.”
He chuckled and motioned to his head then up into the air absently. Pope was reasonably certain he sounded like a madman, a naked, Spanish, one but mad none the less. She was already so kind as to let him stay in her safe room for the night, God only knew what would have happened if he was out in the city. Pope didn’t want to trouble her any more, however he was at a loss, and his clothes had been torn to shreds when he shifted. Shame claimed his features and he looked into her eyes once again.
“I know it is asking a lot, but do could I get you to buy me some pants and a shirt? I have cash.”
Being a nurse for a few years in an ER for a busy city gives you the opportunity to witness and learn many things. When you add being a werewolf to that, you learn a lot more, especially from first hand experience. For these reasons, Nakita remained quiet and calm as she tried to wake Pope, and remained frozen and still as he lurched to life. She watched him calmly as to not scare or upset him. He seemed to be having some sort of post traumatic syndrome, but from what, other than being a fellow werewolf, she didn't know.
His eyes moved about the room, apparently seeing something Kit could not, some past memory. He looked terrified, bruised and severely shaken. She heart panged sympathy for him, her own memories of waking up naked and scared and having no idea where you are, but had no idea the extent of his terrible past. As his eyes settled on her face, he seemed to come back to himself slightly. She smiled at him and met his eyes, lifting her hand slightly towards him and said, "It's alright, you're safe."
He relaxed, and she stood up, still keeping her distance from him till she could be sure he was completely himself. Though, thinking about it, that was going to be hard to determine because she barely new the guy. She met him in a park after he sniffed her out and now he was standing naked in her basement. Yeah, that wasn't creepy or disturbing or anything. Had she lost her mind, taking some strange wolf into her home and hiding him from the rest of the world when he was clearly not tame? Tame, he wasn't a dog, and that was rude to even think of that term.
Her rambling mind hit a brick wall as he spoke, and in Spanish no less. She hadn't taken a Spanish class since high school and she was really rusty. His first words were lost on her as her mind tried to comprehend that he wasn't speaking English, but she caught bits of what he said next, something about coffee and a cigar? He was relaxed, at least, stretching and standing up. She blinked at him and opened her mouth to say something, but he looked at her and it seemed to dawn on him that she had no clue what he was saying.
“I’m speaking Spanish aren't I? Forgive me, when I wake up suddenly I’m not all there," he said, and she smiled at him again.
"Don't worry about it. It happens, I understand," she offered him, drawing her towel around herself tighter. He had a pleasant voice, one that you could listen to all day. It was soothing and familiar, calming almost. He was handsome, ruggedly and classically so. And he was naked. Being a nurse had trained her to pay no mind to such things, as most every patient she saw was, in fact, naked. She found it, however, very hard not to notice him, or the fact that she was clad in only a towel.
Professionalism thankfully took over, reserving her calm and solidifying her confident smile. She couldn't help her cheek from flushing, but it wasn't all that noticeable she thought. “I know it is asking a lot, but could I get you to buy me some pants and a shirt? I have cash," he asked. Her first reaction was to oblige, but her reasoning stopped her from saying anything. What was she going to do with him if she went to buy him clothes? Leave a stranger in her house, her home? He did have a few things going for him, the fact that she knew that he wasn't from around here, that he wanted to be away from people, anything or anyone he could harm after he phased. That last fact was what won her trust, even if it was partially so. He seemed genuine, and unlikely to want to harm anyone.
She nodded and took a few steps closer to him, lifting the blanket for him to take and cover himself. "Yeah, I'll go get you some clothes. Coffee I can do, but I don't have, um, did you ask for cigars? I can get them while I'm out." She moved across the room and motioned to the door for him to follow. "I'll get you some breakfast and coffee, and you can shower and rest while I go get you some clothes."
The fear of leaving a strange man in her house was somewhat muted. He seemed like a good man in general. She totally related to the needing a hand after wolfing out thing. She felt a little sorry for him, and wanted to help in any way she could, even if that was feeding and clothing him and sending him on his way. She couldn't deny it though, that it was nice to have someone else like yourself around. If it were her needing help, she'd wish that someone would do the same for her.
Pope reached out and took the blanket from her; unfolding it and draping it over his body, nodding his thanks to her as he did so. He didn’t miss that look that passed over her features, the look of uncertainty as she contemplated his request. It was a quick moment before Pope sorted out the reasons for her apprehension; they were still strangers to each other. Of course she could have locked him down in the safe room as she went to procure his clothes though she didn’t seem the type to lock him in. Pope understood her position, it would have seemed rude to do so but then again it was unwise if she wasn’t at least a little weary of him.
However, he was in a bind. It wasn’t like he could stroll down the street naked as the day he was born and walk into a store and purchase some clothing. He needed her help; just as he was about to suggest that he stay locked in the safe room she agreed to nab him a change of clothes. He felt relief course through him.
“Again thank you.”
He said, appreciation in his tone. Then he smiled.
“No, a cigarette. I do not smoke normally but I do have some in the saddlebags on my chopper. “
Pope said with a smile and a nod, food sounded good but shower sounded heavenly. Pope did what he could to remain clean on the road. A lot of rest stop/brown paper towel showers. Pope would have to give her enough money to get a couple changes of clothes. With this being such a large city and the full moon having already passed there may be hope for him to get some work to earn a little more cash.
Last Edit: Feb 23, 2011 16:23:08 GMT -8 by Deleted
"Sure, it's no trouble, I need to pick up a few things anyways," she told him, heading towards the stairs. She had the weekend off and had originally planned to stock up on supplies. A little adventure never hurt anyone, though. Kit held tight to the towel as she ascended the stairs towards the garage.
The sunlight was streaming in through the garage door windows, brilliant colours dancing around the walls from several glass jars and vases that were scattered along shelves and tables. Kit was a fan of fresh flowers, she loved to have them around the house. She had accumulated many vases and just didn't have any other place to set them.
In the haste of getting Pope down to the safe room, Kit had half-hazardly parked her truck diagonally across the spacious double car garage. There was still room to get Pope's bike down from the back, though. Kit tucked her towel securely around her and climbed up into the bed of the truck. She pushed down the tail gate to give her room and glanced out of the windows to make sure there were no neighbors walking by or anything. She untied the motorcycle and heaved, gripping it securely as she grunted, lifting it out of the back of the truck and letting it settle gently to the floor.
She hopped out after, making sure it was standing on its own before moving around to get her things out of the truck from last night. She got her bag and shoes, making a face at the sandwich that made its way all over the rug in the back seat floor. "Well that's pleasant," she murmured, pulling the rug out and setting it aside to clean later. She turned to head back into house, motioning for Pope. "You can smoke in the kitchen I guess, there's a fan."
She headed into the kitchen, which was right off the garage. There was also a laundry room right off of the kitchen, in which she dashed into and slipped on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. There was a small dining area next to some large windows and sliding glass door that lead out to one of the patios. In the center of the kitchen was an island with some bar stools. Kit moved around to look in the refrigerator, calling over to Pope, "I've got bacon and eggs, I can make some pancakes, there's some fruit, what would you like?"
Pope nodded gratefully to his hostess, he was fortunate to have found her and that she was so willing to offer him shelter. He was indeed in her debt for her kindness and hospitality. He could not help but berate himself, how could he possibly be so stupid? What was he thinking? Why did he stop knowing the moon would rise full? Those were the questions racing through his mind as he followed her. So wrapped up in retrospect he didn’t even notice he was walking through a hallway. His claustrophobia would have been crippling but Pope was too busy being hard on himself to notice.
Pope went to help her remove the bike, but it seemed like Nakita had been able to manage that on her own. Once the bike was down he went to the saddle bag and pulled out a small zip-lock baggie that had a soft pack of Lucky Strikes in it along with his lighter, a simple yellow Bic. Pope didn’t make it a habit of smoking often but sometimes it just couldn’t be helped. Today was such an instance, he took a glance at the zip-lock and decided it was a two smoke day. Tucking on behind his ear and putting the filter end of another in his mouth he returned the baggie to his saddle bag and stood.
He caught a glimpse of the mess that had been made when she tried to get him to her safe house before he went on a murderous rampage throughout the city. He’d wash her car and shampoo the rugs for that. It was the very least he could do to begin to repay her generosity. He sighed softly and nodded before following her into the house, the patio seemed just as good as any place to smoke, it was apparent that she didn’t and Pope didn’t want to stink up her house.
“Thank you, but do you mind if I smoke on the patio? I think some fresh air would do me some good.”
Pope hated being at the mercy of another, yes she was generous and didn’t seem to mind his presence too much but Pope didn’t want to extend his welcome or assume too much.
”Really a cup of strong coffee would be fine, but now that you mention it some fruit sounds delightful. Thank you, I don’t mean to inconvenience you.”
He smiled to her warmly, he would need to do what he could to repay her generousity.
"Um, sure. Just," she motioned with her hand to the right side of the patio, "If you go around to the right at the corner there, the neighbors can't see you in case your blanket is faulty." She genuinely wasn't trying to sound like she didn't want people to see him here, she'd made the mistake of laying out sunning on her patio when she first moved here and had a birdwatching neighbor spot her topless. Kit moved to the fridge and started to pull things from inside and set them on the counter.
"It's no trouble, I need to get some today anyways. I don't mind at all," she told him with a smile, walking over to the coffee pot to start it. She piled in extra coffee grounds to make it stronger than usual, but she didn't mind it either way, and it's what her guest requested. She honestly didn't mind, it was actually nice to not be all by yourself for once. She spent most of her time at home, alone. Kit wasn't going to complain to have someone to cook for.
She did need to use up some stuff before it went to no use, so she didn't mind pulling out all the stops. She whipped up a custard and started to bake up some french toast while some sausage and bacon sizzled in a pan. In a large bowl, she deposited diced fruit: apples, pears, strawberries, pineapple, mango, melon, blueberries and grapes. She set the eggs beside the stove, ready to grab and cook when the meat was done, and a bowl of cream to whip.
Kit sort of lost herself in her cooking, she loved to do it but never had a reason to. What was the point cooking like this for one person? She moseyed to the radio and turned it on, soft classical music to add a bit of peaceful ambiance to the room. She pulled down actual plates from the cabinets, instead of her usual paper plates. It was actually fun cooking breakfast. The thought of someone to do for, even if it was for the day, made her smile and added a spring to her step. She figured that was why she loved being a nurse, taking care of people like that, and why she picked up so many extra shifts.
The money was great, but it was also better than coming home to a lonely and empty house.
Pope flashed her a smile and nodded his thanks to her as he gathered his blanket around his body and nodded. She was most generous and Pope would need to find some way of repaying her. He still cursed his own stupidity but was willing to grudgingly accept that this was the path that God had set him on and his meeting her was no chance occurrence. There was a strange bit of comfort to be taken in that, though some might argue that it was disconcerting knowing that your life was being dictated by the whim of a greater power. Pope was a lifelong Catholic, if not practicing but he definitely had faith in those unseen hands.
“Do you happen to have a empty soda can or something I can ash in?”
He asked in his accented tone as he approached her, coming close enough to reach a hand out and take the offered can but not too close so that he invaded her personal space. They were friendly but this was her home and he was a wandering stranger. His upbringing commanded that he remember his courtesies, even though it had been some years since he had seen his mother he didn’t want anyone thinking she raised an ill-mannered son.
Smiling once again he nodded his thanks to her and took the empty can and moved to the sliding glass door, opening it and stepping out into the warm morning sunlight sliding the glass door closed behind him. He could feel the warmth of the sun through the fabric of his blanket, it felt nice. Closing his eyes he tilted his chin up and drew in a slow deep breath. Air in Los Angeles isn’t what you would call fresh, but still with a soft ocean breeze it was nice. After a lingering moment he walked over to where the area she told him to go was and sat on a piece of patio furniture and lit up the first of his two cigarettes.
Pope shrugged the blanket off his shoulders making sure to keep it around his waist and let the sun warm his naked torso. It felt heavenly, he took a slow drag of his smoke and felt himself calm. It wasn’t a chemical effect of the nicotine, but rather the psychological effect. During his years in The Spanish Special Forces, Pope learned a variety of breathing techniques and methods to keep himself calm in the face of danger, but sometimes, just sometimes nothing beat a good old fashion cigarette and a stiff drink. It was too early to break out Chicha so a strong cup of café would do.
He leaned back against the chair and smoked his first cigarette, the Spaniard went through his first one pretty quick and stuffed the filter into the empty soda can. He didn’t mean to smoke it that fast but there was a noticeable difference in how calm he was. Taking the second one from behind his ear, he lit it up and took his time savoring that one while he let the sun warm his tanned, bare chest. It had been a long while since he could relax like this and it was something he missed most about the Mediterranean.
“Una dia…” (One Day…)
He sighed, and nodded as he opened his eyes to peer up at the blue sky before repeating himself.
“Una dia….” (One Day….)
He finished his cigarette and added the filter into the can with the other one, then gathering his blanket up he draped it over his shoulders and moved back inside. The variety of smells made his mouth water, and his stomach growled, apparently he was hungrier than he had previously let on.
Kit changed the radio station to something with a beat and proceeded to dance around the kitchen, singing into her spatula. She would pause at the stove to flip sausage and bacon before bouncing around and shaking her booty. Dancing between the table and the counter, she would move dishes and cups and set places before moving over the bowl of fruit and plates of meats. She shimmied over to the cream and started to whip it up, adding some sugar and vanilla to sweeten it up. After adding the finished whipped cream to the table, she went to the oven to check the toast.
They were just about done, but not quite brown enough, so she turned up the radio and grabbed her spatula again. Her hair had dried in soft tassels and hung around her shoulders as she moved, bare feet slapping the linoleum. She sang loud and off key, not having a single musical bone in her body. She couldn't exactly dance either. The coffee pot beeped, alerting her that it was done, but she couldn't hear it over the tone deaf wailing she was producing.
As the sliding glass door opened, the slight odor of smoke and wolf man hit her nose and she froze, spinning around to see Pope walk back inside. Her cheeked blushed in embarrassment and she dropped to the floor behind the counter to avoid his gaze. What had she been thinking flopping around like that in front of the hot naked man?! She smacked her forehead with the spatula, "Stupid stupid stupid..."
After a second or two of repeating that to herself, she stood back up and brushed her hair away from her face, not looking up at him as she moved over to the beeping coffee pot. "Breakfast is ready," she told him, turning down the radio.
Pope paused for a moment smiling as he watched the embarrassment register on her face and she ducked out of sight. He bit his lip to stifle a chuckle, drawing the blanket around his body and closing the sliding glass door behind him. Pope drew in a breath with his nose and smiled at the smells. His stomach grumbled, he could have easily been happy with café but it was rude to deny his hostess’ generosity. Bowing to Nakita slightly in thanks Pope moved over to the counter.
“Again, thank you… I hope that can repay your generosity somehow.”
Pope had to admit that as disconcerting as it was to have such generosity shown to him, by a relative stranger none-the-less, it was nice. Humans, as well as wolves were social creatures, Pope moved around from place to place always keeping on the move. If you would have asked him before the incident he would never imagined living like this, a wanderer, still at times he couldn’t believe this is what he had become. His training taught him how to survive off the land, to get by on whatever he could, and ever since that night he had been doing just that.
It was beginning to wear on him, but for now he would just have to bare it. Licking his lip absently he allowed his dark eyes to wander over the spread set out before him. She really pulled out all the stops. Judging by her vehicle, home, safe house, and how she cooked Pope could discern two things. One, she was thorough, making arrangements for all possibilities and contingencies. And two, she didn’t do anything half assed, her way of live was such a contrast to his own he felt out of place and as if his very presence here dirtied the home she made for herself.
Pushing such thoughts a side, Pope offered her a smile and bowed his head toward her once more. It would not do well to be a poor guest in the face of her generosity, Pope's mother taught him better than that. A quick pang of sadness struck his heart at the thought of his family but he did his best to keep that from showing on his face. Rather, he deepened his smiles and said.
