I Have a Theory

[Kazara Sellars]

     Despite this city being werewolf territory, Kazara didn’t feel very out of place. She grew up here, and while she didn’t have many fond memories from her childhood, the city still felt like home. After so many years of running away from the man who made her life a living hell, coming back should feel strange. It should feel like she was climbing back into the depths of hell, like she was asking for pain and suffering. But that wasn’t what it felt like at all.

This wasn’t his city anymore.

This was her city.

     Well, if one wanted to get technical the city belonged to the werewolves, but that was against the point. The point was that her stepfather, adoptive father, what-have-you wasn’t controlling her anymore. She was going to have a life and she was going to live it the way she wanted to. Doing that meant spending a considerable amount of time in a particular coffee shop and bakery in the city, Theory. It was the one place – besides her own home – that she felt completely safe.

     She had a standing order with the baker here: she paid for a week of coffees in advance and it made her life that much simpler. Once she got her coffee, a spiced concoction she drank daily in the back corner of the café, she found her way to said corner and took the seat that had her back to the wall. Despite the safety she felt in this place, she could never be too careful: she preferred to see the threats coming, if they were coming at all.

     The café was busy today and she was grateful for her seat and its clear view of the entire seating area. It gave her a slight advantage, a moment of warning before a stranger approached her table, presumably for the empty chair across from her. “Can I help you?” She asked, blue eyes looking over the person with careful scrutiny, checking for potential danger.



Words: [334]
Tag: OPEN
Mood: [relaxed but cautious]
Outfit: Click!
Notes: [she won’t bite unless provoked]

[Fenrir]

London, England seemed like a cool enough place. Regardless, it was one of those cities Fenrir had wanted to make a point to see. So much was different since he last roamed earth as a free being. Actually...the last time he roamed earth, he had matured, broken out of his cage, and was out just long enough to wreak a dose of havoc and conceive a couple of children.

But oddly enough, today was not about havoc, nor was it about destruction. Others would deem it odd, but Fenrir had a curiosity about him just like anyone else. The only difference was...well, Fenrir's curiosity had millennium upon millennium to fester. And, what better place for him to be than London? After all...werewolf territory. And his true form was that of a wolf, even if that wasn't exactly what he was roaming around in.

His human form, dressed in a black long sleeved shirt with some metal band on it, faded jeans, and black boots, did somewhat stand out, but not so much as a wolf would have. All in all, today was a quiet day. Not necessarily boring, as that would have eventually driven him up the wall and made him want to go watch something burn. No, today was just quiet, but interesting, as he was taking in new sights and sounds. Learning the joys of life. Maybe some would frown on trying to pose as a mortal, but honestly, the god of destruction didn't care. After all, he was pretty sure he posed a bigger threat than just about anything one could throw at him, eh?

Spotting a little coffee shop, he walked in, ordering a coffee and a small pastry. After paying, he found the entire place packed, and so he just picked a table with an open seat and sat down. Nothing wrong with that, right?

“Can I help you?”

Or maybe there was. Who knew? He gave a small smile, shaking his head. "I'm afraid not," he answered. "I was just looking for an open seat, and this was what I found." He took a sip of his coffee, jumping a bit as the heat burned the roof of his mouth. And his tongue. Setting the cup on the table, he opted NOT to have it explode, despite how bad he wanted to. No need to alarm any mortals or needlessly hurt anyone. But rest assured, he would have his vengeance on the infernal beverage...

[Kazara Sellars]

     Despite the not-too-unusual busyness of the café, Kazara found the place somewhat calming. It might seem like just another café to some, another shop that sold hot drinks and sweet things, but to her it felt almost as if it had a soul. She knew, realistically, that that was impossible but it didn’t stop her from feeling the warmth of the place and seeing that it had a personality of its own. It was a sort of home away from home for her and it wasn’t uncommon to see her linger for hours, whether doing work or otherwise occupying her time.

     However, it was uncommon that she could be seen sharing a table. In fact, she rarely ever shared tables, often opting to leave the shop entirely rather than be forced to share the company of a stranger. So it was a bit strange, a little out of the ordinary, when she remained sitting after the man took his seat. In all honesty, she surprised herself by staying seated, finding that despite his appearance he seemed as though he was somehow more. As with most of the things she saw she had to wonder if she might just be imagining it, pushing her boredom onto the stranger in the form of mentally making him more interesting.

     That train of thought met an unforeseen barrier when the man burned his mouth, his physical response prompting a smirk from her. “Bit hot, I see,” she commented, not without quite a bit of amusement. “Might want to wait a mo’ before trying that again.” There was something about his expression that had her imagining grenades and fireworks – and trying not to laugh. “You also might want to work on your patience. It’s not the drink’s fault you got burned; I wouldn’t start plotting revenge if I were you.”



Words: [305]
Tag: Fenrir
Mood: [Wary, curious, then amused]
Outfit: Click!
Notes: [If you could tag me in the future, that’d be great. Just so it’s easier to know when it’s my turn!]

[Fenrir]

When the stranger spoke, he realized he was still giving his styrofoam cup a death-glare. Her words made him smile, but Fenrir still had it in for that cup of molten lava. "Scalding," he answered, biting into the strawberry glazed pastry as he waited. ...Okay, that was the best thing he'd ever eaten. Of course, for most of his life his only diet had been meat, and for the latter part, his diet consisted entirely of absolutely nothing...so this was quite a nice change. And before he knew it, he'd eaten the whole thing.

"...Patience?" He asked, almost as if he had no earthly idea what that was. His body stiffened a bit, tensing with the emotions that started to build up. But he held his temper because no one deserved his rage but the source of his pain. "What do you mean it wasn't the drink's fa--" It was at that moment, something on the cup caught his eye. 'Caution, contents may be HOT.' "...Oh."

This girl was raising so many questions to his mind. Part of him found this interesting; an opportunity to learn more about the beliefs and customs of today's mortals. The other part found it mildly annoying that his ways were being questioned. After all, he was above that, wasn't he? Of course.

"I see nothing wrong with revenge, when justified," he answered calmly. "Though, you've shown me that here...it isn't justified. Pointless rage leads to pointless violence which leads to pointless bloodshed. Though some could live for eons, and it still wouldn't be contained. Like a beast..." He took a sharp breath at the word 'beast.' "The longer it's imprisoned, the harder it fights to get free. And when it does...the result is so much...worse." His voice grew quiet, and he picked up the cup again, this time blowing on the hot liquid before putting it to his lips. Better.

Tag: Kazara Sellars

[Kazara Sellars]

     Taking a sip of her own drink, which was conveniently housed in a lidded to-go cup despite the fact that she wasn’t leaving anytime soon, Kaz smirked in response to the stranger’s smile, so in contrast with the murderous look he’d been giving the cup. Interacting with adults was hardly her favourite thing to do, but this guy seemed interesting enough. Dangerous, maybe, but not the sort she figured she had to worry about. She knew that sort: she could spot it a mile away. And if she saw it, she was out of there in a blink. (Or punching someone, but that was against the point, right?)

     “Patience,” she repeated, nodding along almost as if speaking to a child, just without the baby tone. “It’s this strange, out-of-this-world concept about waiting. Pretty new-age and weird, but effective.” Ah, sarcasm; it was such a beautiful subset of language, she wasn’t sure how she would get by without it. When he noticed the warning on the cup, Kaz had to suppress a laugh. “Oh is right. They put those there because of people like you. You know, the ones who might sue or, I don’t know, blow up the building in retaliation.”

     This conversation was turning out to be strangely fun. As long as he didn’t get all offended by her sarcasm, they could share the table just fine. If he turned out to be some sensitive bloke with no sense of humour, though? Kaz was all for getting out of there, politely or not.

     “I agree with you on that,” she admitted. Revenge was something she’d given a lot of thought to over the years. The fact that her attempts to get her revenge backfired had thrown water on the fire, but it hadn’t stopped burning. If anything, it came back stronger. Hotter. If she saw her adoptive father again he was as good as dead. She wasn’t sixteen anymore and she knew just how to get rid of him without getting caught for it. The thought brought a brief but genuine smile to her face, the expression fading in seconds. “Right: revenge against innocent cups of coffee with warnings? A no-go. Otherwise, I think you’re good. Make safe choices and all that jazz,” she said, waving her hand dismissively.

     The airy act swirled down the drain, her eyes narrowing on him. With all the creatures in the world these days, she had to wonder if what he said was from personal experience. It would fit, after all. Instead of jumping to conclusions – even though she was often right – she filed that piece away to add to the puzzle later, if necessary. “Sounds like holding on to anger, if you’re thinking about it symbolically.”



Words: [454]
Tag: Fenrir
Mood: [amused, suspicious/intrigued]
Outfit: Click!
Notes: [she’s pleasantly surprised at the funniness of this encounter]

[Fenrir]

"Waiting..." he repeated; he knew all about waiting. However his time spent waiting was anything but patient. The constant struggling, howling, growling, trying with every fiber of his being to break free... The god shuddered at the thought of being imprisoned again. However, Fenrir had to quirk an eyebrow at her next statement.

"But, I don't want to blow up the coffee shop. Just my cup," he replied, his tone and mannerisms almost seeming like a five year old child instead of an ancient deity.

Innocent? That piping hot abomination nearly destroyed his mouth! "The warning label should be bigger," he said flatly, looking at the tiny print on the cup and taking a breath. Maybe everyone was out to get him. Who knew? But at least this mortal girl was helping.

Some powerful force I am...spend so long chained up like an animal, now I'm getting life tips from a mortal... He let out a long, drawn out sigh, feeling an overwhelming flood of emotions. Anger, sadness, bitterness, even a touch of shame. His sense of pride had been cut down over the millennia, and now he had to build it back up. Heh....destruction. Build.

"I guess you are right," he said finally, slowly putting the cup to his lips again. It was obvious he was struggling with some inner demons. Ones he didn't know how to handle, at that. He knew he'd get his revenge, but...what would he do until then? What would he do now that he was free to roam as he pleased? Now that there was more to his existence than being chained to some rock and wallowing in rage and emotion, the world was opened up to him. And he had no idea whatsoever.

"Safe choices?" He looked at her, again like a questioning child. For someone so young, she sure had alot of insight. Maybe it wasn't so bad, getting help from a mortal. After all, not many people had been around less than he had.

Tag: Kazara Sellars

[Kazara Sellars]

    “It’s safe to say that blowing up the cup would be a small disaster on its own. You’d burn a few people if you did, including myself, and I’m not sure that’s what you want to do,” she said, lifting her cup to take a sip. Setting it down again, she smiled thoughtfully. “Unless you plan to take it elsewhere. Then there’s really no problem with it. I do agree though: the warning label should be much larger.” Though you would think people would realise when they order a hot drink…it’s going to be hot. But oh well. Patience and common sense weren’t for everyone. At least, not every day. Kaz could list a few instances where she’d been too impatient or thoughtless and accidentally burned herself with her drinks.

     Kaz played around with the idea of making the cup look like it was burning up right in the middle of the table, but decided against it. Even if she made it so only he could see, she was hesitant to do it – for all she knew, the man she was sharing a table with could be someone much more powerful than she. Knowing how many people despised her kind, she wasn’t keen on revealing anything about herself. Sighing softly, she tucked the joke away. It was a pity, too. She was so full of energy it would’ve been easy to get the image up and keep it going.

     “Of course I’m right,” she returned easily, her tone one of confidence. “I often am, and in this case I have a bit of experience with the subject matter.” Then again, it wasn’t often revenge she was dealing with these days. Rather, she saw what she did more as justice and self-defence than anything else. She might enjoy the violence a bit more than she should, but it was always worth it in the end.

     Laughing quietly, Kaz shook her head. “Safe choices. It’s basically this: One, don’t get innocents hurt. Two, don’t vandalise public property. Three, don’t get yourself killed,” she told him with a shrug. “There’s a fourth one and it covers anything missed in the other three: don’t get caught.”


Words: [362]
Tag: Fenrir
Mood: [still sort of amused]
Outfit: Click!
Notes: [her power probably wouldn’t work on him anyway, unless he let it.]

[Fenrir]

"Actually," Fenrir corrected as politely as he knew how, which...may not have seemed very polite, "explosions don't have to involve fire. Sometimes, an explosion is accompanied by fire or shrapnel, but the explosion itself is really a shock-wave which, if powerful enough, can hurt or even kill. But a small cup like this one...highly doubtful," he explained, going back to his coffee. He had to chuckle at this girl; it was obvious she had no idea who it was she was talking to.

"I do not believe in hurting innocents, but public property is man-made, sometimes just as human as those who created it." At number three, he had to belt out a laugh. He didn't mean to, he just couldn't help it. "Trust me, I likely do not have to worry about getting myself killed. As far as getting caught...well, that does make sense, I suppose..." He flashed a grin, somewhat revealing that there was a lot more to him than he was letting on.

This mortal was rather interesting, teaching him things he'd otherwise not thought of. However, he had noticed her attitude. Pride was not necessarily a good thing to have in days like these. Unless you were a god, and in her case...well, he didn't think so. "Here, let me show you what I meant earlier," he finally said, taking the final sip from his coffee and holding the paper cup in his hand.

Lightly, he tossed the cup into the air, and it almost touched the ceiling, but didn't. At the peak of it's ascension, it exploded, though it was more akin to someone popping a balloon filled with confetti. Likewise, it sent tiny particles of paper raining down on the table in front of them. "See? Explosion. No fire, no burning, and no one got hurt." He flashed a grin.