Outta the fire, into the flames (Open)

[logan]

"What are you after?

The question rolled around inside Alex's head like a loose marble, bouncing here and there but never going away. It was a miserable sort of question only because he had no real answer to it. So instead of easing his owe mind with a word or two of inspiration to his plan and actions, instead of doing anything that could have potentially brought him peace for even a second he simply stood there, his mind playing pinball with that god-damn marble, smacking the thought all around forcing it to keep coming back.

What was he looking for? Fuck if he knew, though he had a couple answers that he'd half convinced himself could have been true. Maybe he was ready to mingle with his own kind again, though he knew that didn't really have a grain of truth to it; he'd been alone out in the wild for nearly half a century without so much as a complaint or pang of missing his own kind and breed. So what was it? A deep seeded desire to help those of his nature? No, that wasn't it, he'd been bred and trained and drilled for loyalty, but not to loyalty to those he didn't know. He never handed himself out to those that didn't have cause or reason for his services; so then what the fuck was it?

"You know what the fuck it is, you just don't want to think about her..."

Blinking his eyes rapidly a few times, Alex shook his head, his gaze falling to the waves that lazily lapped up against the side of the passenger boat. Following the waves out to sea, his eyes locked onto the looming dock that drew her closer at a constant rate. New York City. He hadn't been here in decades, perhaps even close to a century, and now as it came closer and closer before his eyes with every passing moment he remembered why he'd hated it.

The stench.

Sniffing the air lightly the Wolf let his face wrinkle lightly in disgust. It was the stench hundreds of thousands packed together, most living in squalor, most polluting the air, the earth and everything around them at a rate to constant to be kept up with. It wreaked of filth and an all too human desperation he'd grown use to smelling in hubs such as this place. It was funny how things had a way of remaining unchanged when it came to these little Human puppets. He'd watched them grow for over one-thousand years, and despite their leaps and bounds in technology they still remained the same sad, dirty little apes they'd always been. The cities got shinier, got bigger, and got louder; but they never lost their rancid underbelly forged on the backs of the broken.

Tearing his eyes away from the millions of lights in the distance Alex once again let his gaze fall to the sea beneath him, his mind traveling centuries back and thousands of miles away. Back to Paris, back to a time when the world had felt a bit simpler, if not at least in those few fleeting months he'd spent with her. However, the 'her' wasn't so much a woman he'd held passionately in the night, a woman he'd made his mate and lost. No, Alex had long since lost his desire to give his heart and soul to another. The 'her' that tapped at his mind was something for sweeter, something held more dear than any woman brought to him by the flesh ever could.

Her name had been Luna, and she'd been the closest thing to a daughter he'd ever held in his hands.

Orphaned by the war with the Lucian Coven, Alex had taken her under his care. He'd protected her, he'd fed her, and most importantly, for the first time in centuries he'd loved someone. It had been simple with her, heart-breakingly easy. Her love for him had been what opened the door; it had been pure, it had been simple, and it had been one born of thankfulness and joy. She'd been something he'd held onto, not only because of the love she'd inspired within his heart once again, but also for something else, something deeper. She'd been a smart girl, well beyond her nine years. And in that infinite wisdom that had always shocked Alex and impressed him so she'd said something to him..-

"Alex, promise you'll always help us. Help our kind. I know you're sad, I know you want to hide from everything...but promise you'll be there when we need you. Promise Alex! Promise!"

Her words rang through his mind like a fucking church bell, even after almost two-hundred years. He closed his eyes against the impact of emotion her words brought to him, his ears deaf to the noise of groaning metal beneath his grip as the guard-rail dented inward at his grip. Luna Croix had died during their war with the Lucian Coven. Those fucking Vampires had learned of his 'daughter' and had taken her from him. He'd failed her, he'd let her perish just as he had let his Pack Brothers so many years ago it felt like another man's life. But her words, his promise to her, all of it still hung so perfectly crystal clear in the air that when he'd received the letter for EAI it had been as if Luna had been standing behind him, screaming her words at him through a megaphone.

"You promised, Alex, you promised!"

And she was right, that damned little pup was right, just like she always had been. He had promised, he'd sworn to her that he would be there to answer a call if it had been brought to him. It's why he'd gone into hiding, it's why the Wolf had disappeared. No one could call upon you if they didn't know you existed. But this EAI, this monolithic corporation owned and operated by his blood-kin had found him, and they had uttered a call to him.

"Well shit." The words fell from his lips with a slightly beaten attitude behind them. There it was, he had his fucking reason for what brought him here, and as he finally tore his eyes away from the water around him he noticed just how close they where to the dock now. Ramming his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, Alex produced a bronze cigarette case and a book of matches. Popping the box open, the Wolf grabbed himself a cigarette, tapped the end against the hard, metallic surface of it's carrier twice, and popped it between his lips. A flash of light and the stench of sulfur let the those near by know a match had been struck to life, and puffing lightly, Alex lit the cigarette and allowed the rich tobacco to roll down his throat. It was a Turkish blend, a kind he'd grown partial to over his long life-span, and a kind he could only enjoy when he grew it and rolled it into these cigarettes himself. Allowing his mind to be caught up in enjoying the craftsmanship of his cigarette and the knowledge of his green thumb that had allowed him to cultivate and grow the native Turkish tobacco in Virginia, he'd hardly even noticed the Captain shouting something about the dock and barely felt the slight impact of the boat being drawn in.

A few moments later Alex found himself once again on solid ground, the cigarette nearly gone and his left hand clenching the handles of a simple dufflebag stuffed to the brim with clothes and his other personal effects. Well, what now? Dropping the cigarette, the Wolf crushed it's life away under the heel of one booted foot. Sniffing the air lightly, a habit he'd never break, the Wolf glanced from side to side and decided to make his way through the harbor dock and alleys and into the city. There he'd probably find a taxi and he was willing to bet a hefty price that any driver in the city could get him to the EAI corporate headquarters without needing directions. From what they had told him in the letter, the same letter the was so carefully folded and creased in his back pocket, a letter he'd read over a hundred times by now, apparently EAI was quite a large, and powerfully known industry within the city. Getting there wouldn't be a problem, at least he'd hoped as much. And with that mindset he set off, taking a turn down the nearest alley and heading towards where the stench of Humanity grew to almost an intolerable level.

[Cheyenne Deniau]

Cheyenne wasn’t out and about the city on business, today. She had finished with school for the day, and was taking her good old sweet time to get home from the last day of school. She was supposed to be shadowing her deadbeat cousin, a housekeeper for a particularly affluent vampire within the city. But, if you’d seen one housekeeper for a vampire or werewolf abode, you had seen them all. A dirty house was a dirty house, no matter who or what owned it. It was summer, and she sure as heck wasn’t going to beeline for her house just to be put to work again. Thanks, but no thanks—there were better things in the world to be done than to follow a maid around while she scrubbed the toilets of the supernatural upper-echelon.

Instead, Cheyenne headed towards the docks. Her bag was light, for it lacked the usual textbooks and binders, and her pace was quick. There was a blank page in her sketchbook just screaming to be tainted with ink and pencil. She’d see what inspiration struck her, along the banks of the choked-up harbor. Perhaps she’d draw a boat, or a person—or perhaps any animal that crossed her path. Whatever she ultimately settled on, Cheyenne was staying out until the sun had begun going down, at which point she’d meander home to deal with the wrath of Mr. and Mrs. Deniau.

For perhaps the tenth time in the past forty-five minutes, her cell phone hummed, reverberating as a new call came-in. Cheyenne had been casually ignoring it until now, but as she was too far from the bus route that led home to catch it, she presumed that it was safe to answer, now. The teen fished into her pocket, peering at the front screen. Her sister’s name flashed across the screen, glaring at her.

Oh, this should be good. Cheyenne thought dryly, flipping the phone open, and giving an infuriatingly chipper, “Buongiorno, principessa.”

<<Cheyenne, if you don’t get your ass home now, you’re going to be grounded for a week,>> her sister’s voice snarled from the other end of the line, Cheyenne grinned.

“What are mom and dad going to do?” Cheyenne countered wryly, “Make me shadow relatives as they go about their daily duties? Wreck what scant social life I already possess? Oh wait—”

They already did that, didn’t they, her tone demanded, and Cheyenne’s older sister huffed in annoyance. As always, Cheyenne’s apparent lack of appreciation for “her families esteemed role in the supernatural community” earned her an earful-worth of a lecture. Disrespect this and self-centered that and bla, bla, bla.

For a few moments, Cheyenne was respectfully silent, turning down an alleyway that she knew led towards the harbor. Finally, when her older sister’s voice was simply too much to bear any longer, Cheyenne interjected, “Sis, listen—what’s the big deal about not wanting to be a glorified slave? Is it really that awful that I want to do something else with my life?”

<<Yes,>> Cheyenne’s sister growled back. The tirade continued, and Cheyenne’s patience finally wore thing.

“Listen, listen, listen,” she said quickly, trying to shut her sister up, “I’m going out to see some sights, and I’ll be home when I’m done, okay? Don’t wait up for me for dinner.”

<<You’d better be back in time for dinner!>>

“Tell our cousin I’m sorry. We can go dust Mr. Loveless’s bookshelves tomorrow, okay? Today is my day,” Cheyenne said flatly. Whatever her sister’s retort was, she’d never know. For, as she distractedly approached the mouth of the alleyway, she collided with someone else who was turning to go down with it. A man, judging by the blatant lack of boobs to cushion the collision, and the muscular six-foot-one stature—not to say that there couldn’t be muscular women over six feet, it was just unlikely. Cheyenne’s loose hold upon the cell phone slipped, and the thing crashed to the ground, back and battery pack popping out upon impact.

“I beg your pardon,” Cheyenne said quickly, her gaze darting the man she’d run into, before she bent down to pick up the phone. She gave the mumbled comment of, “Guess that solves that problem.”

She distractedly began to piece the phone together, without really looking at what her hands were doing. Her phone had popped apart so many times, she didn’t need to look at her hands when piecing it back together. She looked at the man, cracked a timid smile, and then peered at the luggage in his grasp. It was a duffel bag that seemed stuffed to the gills. A traveler? It wouldn’t be absolutely unheard of. There were a lot of people milling about, so perhaps a ship had just come in. And Cheyenne, being the polite and overly helpful girl that she was (and also, trying to avoid heading home for as long as possible), wouldn’t leave the man to his own devices in the Big Apple.

“In need of any direction, sir?” the human teen inquired, smiling with her eyes.

[logan]

"I'm not serving again. I'm not being someone else's soldier. I've fought one too many times under someone else's flag."

The thoughts danced through his mind, wondering just what it was someone could possibly want from him. After all, Alex wasn't exactly a blooming mass of talents for anyone. He knew how to do a handful of things, and in all honesty, if you weren't looking to get someone or something killed he wasn't of much use to you. Which inevitably dragged the question forth from his mind 'What the hell could they possibly want?'.

"You're over thinking this one too much, Old Boy. Just have a sit down, drink some twenty-year old malt scotch and have yourself one of those cigars business men always have stashed around. If they want you to be another sword-jockey turn them down and walk away. Simple as that."

Ha, yeah right. Was anything really ever as simple as people tended to convince themselves it would be? As these thoughts danced and fluttered through his mind he suddenly found himself on the receiving end of a collision. Ripping his mind free from his thoughts, the Wolf had to restrain himself from a sudden and violent attack that threatened to rip forth from him. For the briefest of moments his eyes had flashed a feral and completely inhuman yellow before settling back to a much more normal shade. His mind reigned in the wolf within and assured him this young Human was of no threat to him, the collision merely a coincidental twist of fate and nothing more.

It was equal parts funny and sad to the Wolf, that something as innocent as a bump by a stranger had to be broken down to convince himself it wasn't a threat. Some might go as far as saying Alex was a little tightly wound, perhaps?

"It's alright, no harm done." Dropping his duffel to the ground, Alex squatted down to help her grab a piece or two as she assembled her phone. Eying the components, Alex found himself thankful he'd never gotten around to purchasing one of the things. It looked complex, and the idea of having to put one back together was just a bit over his head. As she pieced it back to working order the wolf drew himself back up to his full height, glancing around in a way that had become more than habit, but instead one of nature. Always on the lookout for something, always convinced danger lurked behind every corner ready to drive a silver-blade into his heart.

Did he need directions? Now that was an understatement. He needed a trained guide and possibly a translator. Alex hadn't gotten out much over the last half-century or so, and the idea of entering into the massive city before him, with it's technology out dating his knowledge and God only knew what of it's culture...; well you could say it had him a bit on edge. However, nothing of that stoic soldier gaze would ever betray those feelings within. Confidence seemed to hang upon him lightly like a cloak, it didn't exude from him like the arrogant Vampires nor did he wield it with pride like the Hunters. He merely carried it, using it as the constant motivator he saw it as. It was Old World confidence, something he'd acquired in a time before western movies and blockbuster hits, something that had been around before confidence had inter-bred with arrogance.

"Yes, if you wouldn't mind I could use a pointer..." Trailing off, Alex shoved his right hand into his pocket, tearing the letter free and carefully unfolding it before her and handing it over. It contained nothing of a private nature, and really didn't go beyond the typical flattery of a job offer and then requesting his presence at the EAI building. That, however, was where the first road-block threw itself upon him at. As Alex had pondered earlier, he had no real idea just where the hell the mentioned building was and in all honesty he didn't have the kind of cash to have a taxi drive him around all night. Despite his confidence that any good driver would know where this place was, he still thought it would be worth a shot to ask the young woman before him, she had, after all, been kind enough to offer.

"Electronic Arc Industries. They have a corporate headquarters in the city if I'm to believe the letter. It's just I haven't been back to New York in some time and I'm not entirely sure just where it would happen to be at. Think you could help me out? I've got about thirty dollars I can give you for the trouble." The offer was sincere and his words carried no danger or threat upon them. Alex had never been in the business of hunting or devouring the innocent, instead preferring to target those he felt deserved a morbid and terror filled death. Perhaps it was his own dose of justice to he handed out upon humanity. Either way, his offer was one without danger and merely that of a lost Wolf in a Big City.

Though within himself, and as sad as the thought made him in the fleeting seconds of it's occurrence, Alex found himself wondering what this girl could really want. Within his own mind he saw nothing as purely coincidence or coming from a place of good-nature. Everything had a counter-weight, a darker intention that remained hidden behind the scenes. Whatever it could have been with this girl lay somewhere he could not yet detect, though despite her harmless appearance he found himself slightly apprehensive. It wasn't a soldier's paranoia, it was his paranoia. One that he'd allowed to grow and fester over the centuries. Nothing was ever as it seemed, everything had a cold and decayed underbelly that wished to destroy you as it had been destroyed. And it was with that thought in mind that Alex had already come to peace with the idea of murdering this young woman before him should she leave him no choice.

The world was a frigid one, and Alex had come to grips with it long ago.

[Cheyenne Deniau]

Cheyenne was too preoccupied with retrieving the parts of her cell phone to notice the flash of color that flickered through the peculiar mans’ eyes. The man dropped his bag and assisted her, before handing the pieces he’d gathered back over to her. Cheyenne gave a murmured, “Thank you,” as she set to work piecing it back together. It was a wonder that such a gadget could bust into so many individual pieces, and yet be reconstructed and operable once again. It was just like a puzzle, one that Cheyenne was only too experienced at solving.

The man confessed that he did need some assistance, and Cheyenne gave a brief, “Shoot,” turning her attention to the man. In her own, modern way, she was acknowledging that she was ready for whatever the man had to throw at her. He drew a paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and held it out for the teen to take. Cheyenne turned the paper so that it was right-side up, eyes drawn to a familiar emblem at the top corner.

“EAI,” she reiterated quietly, a glimmer of recognition in her tone as the man explained himself. Her gaze didn’t wander much beyond that. It was his letter, none of her business.

Cheyenne lifted her gaze politely, meeting the eyes of the man before her as he spoke. Her mind was churning at one-million-miles-a-minute, rolling through who this man was and what he could be. Though her thoughts, if audible, would be insane, she found herself wondering if this man were human or otherwise. Cheyenne didn’t recognize his face, either way, so the answer was irrelevant. She lost the scrutinizing glance as the man voiced his inquiry, and offered her money for the help.

“No trouble,” Cheyenne said dismissively, shrugging her shoulders, “Yeah, I could help you, no problem. I know of the place. It’s not a horrible walk, if you’ve got decent shoes on.” She looked at the mans’ shoes. If he was from out of town and didn’t know where to go, public transportation was out of the question. While Cheyenne knew bus routes off the back of her hand, a towny would get lost really fast, “Don’t bother with cabs, they’ll rob you blind.”

If he only had thirty dollars to his name, he wouldn’t get far, in a cab.

“Follow me,” Cheyenne said briefly, offering the letter to him, so that he could replace it in his pocket. She then turned on her heel, and began to meander down the littered, damp-smelling alley. As she walked, her tone adopted a conversational lilt to it, raising in volume since she wans’t facing the man, “Name’s Cheyenne, by the way. I know the city pretty well. I’m relatively familiar with EAI, too. Got some family-friends that work there.”

More like, family members that were personal assistants to the werewolves that worked there, but the rendition that Cheyenne had offered wasn’t a total untruth.

“It’s pretty easy to get to if you know where you’re going,” Cheyenne mused, approaching the mouth that opened onto a street that paralleled the harbor, “The city’s like a maze until you get the pattern down, y'know?”

Whether or not he answered was the man’s choice. Cheyenne found that she was always more extroverted when faced with a fellow introvert. As if she had to compensate for others lack of talking.