Behind Blue Eyes (Emile/Wulf)

[Emile Avaant]

Emile was sat along the brick wall, a few feet from the door with his legs drawn up to his chest and arms wrapped around them. He was starving, freezing and he had the feeling he was ill, too.

He was clad in a simple pink dress, stained with mud and torn along the hem. No shoes or socks though, and his hair was plastered to his face from the rain. He'd tried to get inside but the Bouncer had thrown him out - clearly not believing he belonged in there - and left him to pretty much freeze.

Shifting wouldn't do much good, because for one it'd drive his instincts into overdrive and two he'd ruin the only thing keeping his skin from the elements. The fifteen year old sighed quietly, blinking away pinpricks of tears as he stared at the cracked concrete, watching tiny blots of rain bounce up from where they hit.

The dress had been stolen from a store a few blocks over a couple of weeks ago now, and had pretty much been his only source of protection besides shelter. All truth be told though, Emile didn't want to move. He didn't see the point anymore. Was there one? He didn't know. The shifter didn't actually care. He'd been homeless for a year now and nothing had gotten any better. NOTHING. He'd been trapped out in the freezing cold for a year and not once had anyone stopped and taken him in or bought him food.

Had he done something to deserve this? Really? Because if he had he'd do anything to change it. He hated being alone more than anything on earth, and he'd faced an entire year of it. Some of the things he'd had to do to get by would haunt him for the rest of his life, and now once again he'd been forced out into the cold.

He buried his head in his hands and began to cry into the night while the Bouncer looked on.

[Wulfgar Fenrisulfr]

Wulfgar Fenrisulfr was already in a pissed off mood when he stormed through the back entrance to the club. One look around the place only made matters worse as he saw some of the new help standing around and others acting like idiots over a woman in a set of leathers that might as well have been painted on. IT lit his already burning temper and made him crumple the empty beer can he found littering the floor.

And a pissed off Wulf was never a good thing.

It tended to leave body parts littering the floor and blood flowing like a river in the streets. Or.. At least it had in the old days.

Now days, it just tended to make the king shifter even more pissy because he had to maintain something resembling a diplomatic demeanor. Which simply made him feel like a real pansy ass.

Another thing that didn't sit well on his broad shoulders.

Damn it, what ever had happened to the days when things could be settled over a good battle? Smack a few swords around, slice a few heads off... Really, why did these mortal humans have to go confusing everything with their ideas of "communication"? The only communication he needed was to show those egotistical city ordinance people the business end of his long blade.

They thought his crowd was to rowdy for their "celebrity" groupies? They thought his club was bad for the image of the city? Screw them! They'd been here long before their siliconed asses and they'd be there long afterwards.

Seriously, if they had any idea of what he really wanted to tell them to do with their assinine ideas? They'd run home to mommy screaming about the big bad monster.

Shaking his head and forcing himself to get a grip, Wulf shook his rain dampened hair and headed for the front. A few well growled orders and things were at least straightened within this, his home away from home. The new workers were back in line and the scantily dressed woman sent off about her business. Thank the Lord. Seriously, women these days didn't seem to have any respect for themselves and the way they dressed. While Wulf had nothing against the ladies showing off.. He found that the more demure ones where the true eye candy. After all, he wasn't into sloppy seconds and a woman was asking for it when she went around dressed like a two bit hollywood hooker.

Striding toward the door, the huge shifter decided to check in with the new bouncer and stepped outside into the storm darkened street. A glance around alerted him to another figure and a frown spread over his lean features. What the devil was a kid doing out here? Turning to question the bouncer, Wulf soon had his answers. Answers that ignited his temper even worse and he had to step back from his man before he put his head through the wall.

"Damn it, Le'Claire.... This is sanctuary for all our kind... What the FUCK where you thinking?" he asked, obviously redundant because the man hadn't been. Thinking that is.

Turning to the small, huddled figure, the huge wolf leaned down carefully. Unknowing how the small boy might react, the shifter cleared his throat and waited for him to look up. When he did, his brilliant cobalt eyes flicked with magic and his voice was a deep baritone.

"I am Wulfgar Fenrisulfr. I give you good day and welcome to my club... I extend my apologies for my man's distrust but we are in a time of war... Please come inside and partake of my hospitality...."