Pack Beginnings [Severina]

[Atropos] Muttering, harsh and abrasive as the soft words barely lifted to an audible sound to be heard by anyone else trying to listen as the Black Fury made her way down the tunnel towards the Guardian’s quarters. Severina was quite the sight for as she stalked along, a dark brooding cloud over her head.

A murderous expression written into her features that made her more intimidating than she normally was. Her disheveled appearance raised eyebrows, unusual slut’s clothing garbed on Severina’s muscular frame. A corset-like bodice and a short skirt, ripped fishnet stockings and no shoes. She clutched a dark purple wool jacket in one hand, clutching it tightly. Blood caked her forehead and ran in dried rivers down the bridge of her nose to her chin. Hair and makeup tousled and smeared like she’d been fighting.

And worse of all, the smell that arouse from her. Bad Axe cologne and the filth of alleyways.

[Linnea Bartlett] Linnea is seated in the library, her skinny body neatly folded into the seat of a deep leather armchair. From a distance, she is all elbows and knees, all arms and legs, her head poking out from the strange nest of appendages. She has a book open on the table in front of her, and an orange sports bottle of water resting on her right knee, kept to balance with her cupped right hand.

When Severina marches in, the young Silver Fang finishes her sentence, then looks up. The scent has already presented itself - Linnea doesn't need any gifts to read the ugly reek of bad cologne and filth from the air - and she flips her head around, sending her long braid flying, pale eyes opening wide than narrowing on Severina.

The Ahroun is up in an instant, upsetting the bottle, dislodging the book from the table. "What happened to you." Her voice thrums with rage, stirred up by Severina's own.

[Atropos] Perceptive eyes cut sharply across the room at Linnea’s outburst, feeling the rolling heat of the little ahroun as it clashed against her own and swallows it up. Severina shakes her head, casting it down so her hair spilled forward to hide her face. Cheeks flushed with a hint of color, appearing …. Embarrassed?

“I just need a shower to wash th’ stink of a man off me, young one,” she says in a low controlled voice, “I was out. Huntin’ for a man, a drug dealer I’d been tailin’. Things didn't go so well.”

She stops in the middle of the library, turning to face her leader-to-be. A dirty hand lifting up to rake through her messy hair, pushing it back off her face. There were flecks of blood upon that hand, mingled within the dirt.

[Linnea Bartlett] "You - " The young Fang stops, still. The swollen bulge of what-can-I-kill emotion finds no immediate outlet. There is nothing tailing Severina and - and - Linnea's narrow-eyed inspection - close, as meticulously as she can manage - finds all of Severina's limbs intact. With visible effort, the young Ahroun holds herself still and stuffs her fists into the front pockets of her jeans. " - you're fine. Right? You're - you - what - what can I do?"

The water bottle rolls on the wooden floor, leaking droplets from the open pull-cap in fits and starts until its movement is arrested by Linnea's foot. Her gaze flickers over the Philodox again, lips compressing. "If - if you wanna get a shower, I - I can wait." The rage makes her stutter, it wells up in her throat and closes off her vocal cords, the neural pathways between mind and mouth go white-hot, then slack, then burn again, but the Silver Fang manages to get it all out, at last.

[Atropos] Her head cants to the left just a little, lowering heavy lashes until her eyes formed smudgy, black slits with a peek of aquamarine glaring through. Severina’s arms come to fold across her chest, causing the biceps to flex and bulge when they curled over. It was one rarer times, anyone would see just how physically well-built the philodox was underneath her normally baggy clothes, like a body builder.

“Groped, assaulted in all kinds of sexual ways that yar little mind needn’t know about, dearest.” She replies in her usual husky voice, her anger begins to subside slowly, “Somethin’s on yar mind, a shower’ll wait.”

[Linnea Bartlett] Linnea's fists flex inside the pockets. Her body rocks forward, she's standing on the balls of her feet, poised - and then she lowers herself by pointed degree. Her brows draw together and her jaw sets closely as she struggles to find the appropriate response - one that conveys her concern without insulting her future packmate's prowess.

"I - If you - " She pulls her fists from her pockets and shakes her hands open, thrusts the right one through the air before her in an emphatic gesture. Her teeth sink into the delicate skin of her inner lip, she chews hard on the soft flesh, then nods to herself, emphatically. "If we have to go hunting, you'll tell me." Her pale eyes flash and meet Severina's own, as she utters the words with sure forward-moving conviction: both a promise and a command.

She sinks back to her heels then, then stuffs her hands back into her pockets, the intensity of the moment's edge easing somewhat. "Armina left." As Severina doubtlessly knows. "But Ben and Ferdinand. And me. We want to make a pack, with you too. They will have me as Alpha. I want you, too, Atropos. I need your strength."

[Atropos] Severina’s nostrils widen, flaring out as she exhales a heavy sigh. Her head shakes at Linnea, watching the way the girl sways back and forth so anxiously. It drew her mind back to another time, when she had been a mother and her son was…

“What?” Snapping back to the present, “No.” it came out in a quick snap, authoritative and distinctly paternal. The Black Fury takes several steps towards the Silver Fang, stopping in front of the girl. She reaches out with that dirty and bloody hand to cup Linnea’s chin, tilting her head up to look at the girl in the eyes. “Ya’re young an’ innocent in ways... This… what I did I’d never subject ya to, Linnea. I’d never subject any woman to it…” A cold, sternness echoes in her words.

She sighs again, features softening, almost motherly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I know yar more than capable of takin’ care of yah’self, Linnea. Next time, I’ll consult ya first.” She pulls her hand away, dropping it to her side as the fingers curled up into a fist. Her other hand, holding that coat, hugs against her stomach now.

“I’m not surprised Armina left, perhaps I was harsh. Who’s Ferdinand?” She asks, and then waves it off with a hand gesture. “It matters not, little one, I’ve sworn to follow ya into Hades ‘long as I keep ya safe.” She nods, "Ya know ya had mah support."

[Linnea Bartlett] Linnea's chin rises at Severina's touch, and her nostrils flare with an indrawn breath as the Black Fury stalks closer - taking in Severina's scent beneath the filth and grime. When Severina pulls away, releasing her, Linnea uncurls one hand from her pocket and reaches out - hesitates half-way there, stops, restarts - to brush some of the filth from the Black Fury's shoulder. "I trust you, Severina. You don't have to talk to me before you act. Just remember that the promise you made to me is a promise I make back to you. Your enemies are mine."

Her hand falls to her side and she steps back a half-step, rocks from foot to foot once more. "You weren't harsh." She shakes her head again, sending her pale braid flying around her torso. "You - " Ben hadn't even said her name again. Linnea swallows hard. "Ferdinand is a Silver Fang and Philodox, like you. He is new to the Sept - but I knew when I was a child. He will fight with us."

[Atropos] “Mhmm.” She grunts softly, nodding her head. She watches the girl for several long minutes, quiet and attentive. “Good ya can say such, not many’d trust me right off I wager.” She reaches out to rest a hand atop Linnea’s head, pressing down a little as she tousled the girl’s hair.

“Don’tcha ever stop bounin’, Linnea, yar like a jack rabbit on a sugar high.” A grin plays across her lips briefly, then disappears as quickly. “I think I’ve seen this Ferdinand. Ben talked to him one night at th’ pub.”

[Linnea Bartlett] "Well, I don't eat - I don't - It's not sugar - " she snorts, leveling briefly beneath the press of Severina's hand, before levering herself upwards against the pressure, rolling forward onto the balls of her feet. "I can't stop anyway. I don't think. I just feel it. It's the - it's the moon and it's what's inside me. It's everything. I - Ferdinand is very proper." Changing subjects abruptly, she shoots Severina a pale, slicing glance. "He isn't like you. He's a more proper Silver Fang than I make, but Gaia needs us all to be what we are for her, right? I think - I think it balances nicely. Like - like the scales of Justice. Ben - Ben suggested Lady Justice as a patron. I - one of my ancestors knows of her and approves. Eventide knew her. I think - I think - "

The young Silver Fang stills again, and flashes Severina one of her illuminating grins, the sort that just leaks repressed energy. She can feel it all through her, like silver veins of bright fire: the excitement and the promise, it makes her head spin in strange circuits and her cheeks burn. "I - I think you need a shower, Severina. And we - we need to see the ritemistress. I - oh!"

[Atropos] It was the girl’s explosive energy. Exuberant and abundant, all wrapped up in a little spitfire, who makes the Black Fury forget about her previous endeavors. She shakes her head again, chuckling wryly as her hand falls to her side. She listens to what Linnea says, nodding her head in approval.

“Justiticia, a patron goddess of Rome, also called Dike in Greece. It is appropriate,” she says.

Her nose wrinkles up, turning her face to press her nose against her shoulder and sniffs. “Augh,” she winces, coughing and sneezes, “I need a shower. We’ll see th’ ritemistress soon.” She steps away from Linnea, giving the girl room to breath. “I go.”