There is a saying, and fucktards like to apply it too soon and to the wrong people. Two words. Two simple words. Handsome. Devil. There were few beyond him that could truly embody it. No one knew how to walk with a crisp malice, to wear a crisp suit in a haphazard way and to carry an entitled, bloody smile. Amare was such a handsome devil in a way that used the phrasing exactly.
At this point, he had started his evening, walking down the alleyway. His suit was black, modern and unbelievably clean. Mostly unbelievable because it was him. Beneath was a teal shirt, a punch of color against the black and muted colors of the brick wall. People came to the alleyway for drugs, sex, or because they had just stepped out of the Dragon. Two of his fingers pressed to the wall of the alleyway. Seconds later, the match he held sparked and he brought it to his mouth, sucking until his cigarette came to life.
Tony hangs around for a second night, a slight ghost haunting the shadows. "She's gone from cozy kennel to street wild and the transition is clumsy, she stumbles over it constantly. "Tony isn't clumsy, she's got a rough grace about her to go with her Pixie eyes and Fae voice that promise honey when her personality only leaves others with the sour pucker of vinegar on their lips. "How long does she eye the back door, wonders and waits, dares herself to be bold" "Too long until the anticipation ebbs, deflated pride curls her spine into a comma, the unfinished sentence that slumps against the dumpster. "
The smell of food sets her empty stomach to growling and baring its teeth but she refuses to sneak inside and steal, not under the bright lights of judgment. "Cops will swarm again, she'll need Jesus and twelve disciples to chase them off. "She hears the footsteps but doesn't edge toward the corner of the dumpster to peek out until a match strike sends a lick pure longing along her skin, it ruffles her hair. "Instantly, mouth waters, a craving she used to hate. "The head of the match flares to life, illuminates the face that feels cold even at a distance.
"Oh for fuck's sake," he said, looking at the face that he lit up. Another piece of shit homeless body. Amare sighed and stepped forward, speaking to her as if she was a child, "I don't have change. You know who really needs change" Y—" this would have been a tirade. A terrible tirade eventually punctuated with blood or violence. Something had stopped his words, though.
She had, instead, something he'd noticed seconds after speaking. Tugging the cigarette from his lips he paused, curiously, "Your smell....what the fuck is that?"
Tony wilts as he charges forward, collapses into the safety of the shadows. "Brows knit together, first concerned then indignant because she doesn't want change. "Doesn't want a damn thing from him except maybe a match. "It's eerie, though, when he suddenly stops. "A tickle of foreboding unfurls in her stomach, talons strike suddenly into the tender meat of her insides at his question.
A spark ignites, she jerks back, shooting to her feet though she barely levels off with his chest. "A black leather jacket keeps her warm over a too-large white shirt that was stained at the hem. ?"Nothing. "And I didn't ask you for anything." "Her chin rises, refuses to look weak in front of the arrogant prick in the suit.
"Nothing?" The problem with a predator was that adrenaline tasted like candy and they almost always couldn't help but step forward once someone stepped away. To an outsider, it could have been a strange looking dance. She shrank back with a breath and in the very same span of it, he took a step forward.
"What....the fuck....is that smell?" This was a deviation from the dance. It was another step forward, enough that he leaned in to breath her in. She could have shrank against the wall. She could have lashed out or tried to redirect shrinking back to an empty space further from the wall. It wouldn't have changed what he smelled. The raw impression of what she was had been left behind in the air still tasting warm from her body.
Aside from a predator, the guy is just pushy, invades her space as she tries to move back. "A lick of biochemical electricity has hackles standing on end, every hair on her body's taut, skin prickling. "Tony wedges herself into the right angle made by the dumpster and the brick but only so she can use it as leverage to slip through the small space next to his arm. "It's rough and she brushes against him, too fast for him to do much about it.
"Oh, you're not....like me. But you are. Sort of. You're a fucked-up-something." He didn't pursue, but grinned afterward. Well, he didn't pursue immediately. It's that cat-predator thing. Her walk away was like a dangled bit of string, capturing his attention so that his steps followed in the wake of her's.
"You know, I don't really get it." He sucked on the cigarette and breathed out a cloud of grey that spilled over itself before disappearing, "You don't have to be so fucking coy with me. So why the fuck are you being coy?"
Tick tock tick of indecision painted clearly in muddy blue eyes that dart back and forth. "Inn or leave" "Inn or leave" "No money for food, this guy will draw attention if he follows. "The hollow low-throated rumble of her stomach can be ignored for another hour or so.
"You're probably smelling something in the dumpster. "I'd be glad to help you climb in there if you want to play detective." "The words vibrate with more bravado than she feels. ?"You talked to me, I got nothing to say." "Golden red tips rest against her lashes as she turns away from him, shoes hitting the pavement.
"Oh, I don't think so." he moved, with the sort of cut of someone who had circled another being before. It wasn't the first time this cat had taken a bat at a mouse. Maybe it was the hundredth. He didn't have much of any hesitation when it came to the motion. All of that was an afterthought, allowing his focus to sink and tie to her.
"You're a strange sort of moon howler. What, are you a fucking were-rat' I bet you are. Maybe that's why you're sooo....so..." he leaned back at that moment, indicating to her as a whole, "you. Yeah, you're a waste of time." At this point, his weight rolled back to his heels and he took a step back.
Bait is laid out, so tempting, like every pie left on a windowsill to cool in the gentle summer breeze. "She wants to squish it under her boot heel but her boots aren't big enough for him. "Still, the tip of her tongue becomes barbed in his presence. ?"I don't howl at the moon, I don't know what you're talking about." "Again, she angles to brush past him, give wider berth. "It's "the dart in the side of her neck that distracts her from her intention.
"I'm not a fucking rat." Tony frowns deeper than she should, blood and the sour stink of death just a step behind. ?"So me" "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" "Fear is a beast clawing at the walls of her stomach, wanting to rip through her chest and eat this man alive. Showing belly isn't an option.
"Really' I know a moon-howler when I see one. I don't even get your fucking game," he said with a wrinkle of his nose, though he still smiled like he wanted a fight.
He had cleared five steps before she asked him what he meant. A pause. He turned to look at her, his expression the same as someone trying to discern whether or not he was being bullshitted, "What does that mean' It means you're....telling me it isn't raining when you're carrying a goddamn umbrella as you squint into the thunderstorm."
Nothing he says makes sense. "He's the Spanish channel that the confused gringa watches, squinting at the actors to guess at the context. "She can smell something different about him, something that makes her inner beast perk warily - ears pitched forward but cautious, slinking out of its tree and pacing back and forth, slinking against the shield's inner walls. "A pitiful yowl echoes in her head. "Tony stiffens, cords of her neck at attention before yanking her focus back to the stranger.
"I don't have a game, weirdo. "And it's not raining. "Did you eat paint chips as a kid or something?" "Blue eyes are reproachful as she edges farther away.
"It's like dumb on top of stupid that fucked retarded." He muttered, not because he wouldn't have spit the words at her, but because you couldn't speak that clearly while holding a cigarette between your lips. There was a roll of his hands.
"Continue with your masquerade, I won't interrupt. And when you get some balls to really play' That'll be something." At this point he was getting distracted. Amare's stride was smooth. It was part of his charm, that unnatural momentum he picked up.
It isn't planned, how she hisses at him. "Tony doesn't hiss, not ever, but now she does. "The bastard is goading her, poke poke poke, a white hot iron on tender flesh. "Each touch of it stings and she wants to flinch, tries to hold out and be strong. ?"In case you haven't picked up on it yet, I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. "I don't know what you are or who you are." "Mistaken identity, is that the cause" "No, he didn't call her by another's name, but there would still be a sting of betrayal if he did. "
"Maybe you're a kitten," the words pour over his shoulder like a drink spilled accidentally. His blue eyes didn't want to believe she was that naive because that would have been stupid. Stupid wrapped in stupid. She protested. She insisted. He opted to smile along with her little game, his feet cemented into place over those stones, "It's adorable but....unless this is your first moon, no one is going to swallow that bullshit."
"I don't care what you swallow, as long as you choke on it." "He gets a scowl and a middle finger, unable to help herself because he's infuriating. "Her Beast paces faster, claws at the inner shields to be let loose, given its head and see what damage it can do to the one that angers it. "
"I'm not a howler or have moons or whatever." "Denial is a powerful tool. ?"You're just some jerk I met in an alley."
"Really?" Now she was speaking a language he understood— Violence. Amare could handle violence and threats. They were foreplay and pillow talk. Maybe even the first steps to a deep and beautiful friendship. It was enough that he flicked his cigarette away so that both of his hands were free, "You have the blood of a moon on you, and I'm not being a goddamn poet I'm just saying what it is, you dumb twat. So either you're delusional, stupid, or just a newbie. I'm not entirely sure which is worse."
The handsome devil had taken a turn on the ball of his foot. If she had wanted him to go away, to ignore her" She'd done the opposite of it. Maybe some part of her wanted this, otherwise her tongue wouldn't be lashing the air so hard.
Mention of blood has Tony checking her hands, mind wavers between now and memory that isn't so distant. "She makes fists of them, shoves them to her sides, leans forward to spit it all back at him. ?"Stop calling me names, you asshole!" "
The Beast hisses again, tail lashes back and forth to keep count of the warnings it gives before attacking. "A warning rumble builds in her chest, thrums through her but she's so caught up, she doesn't hear it. "The Asshole steps forward, she can see stubble on his chin - this is the part where normal Tony would back down but that Tony is dead. "This is a new Tony that doesn't know who or what she is. "Her body sings with tension, focus split, and this allows the Beast to pry through the shields and take control. "
A raspy breath rattles in her throat; pupils shoot wide and then collapse in on themselves, dying stars born of sudden pain. "Cells are bursting, erupting and knitting themselves back in different shapes. "Tony falls to her knees, a silent scream ripped from her open mouth. "Something blocks her throat, she fights to breathe but it's not working. "Fingers curl into claws, tearing clothing and skin alike, a long silent spasm that lasts until something within her unwraps itself. "She is born anew.
"Tell me that's a human expression," his voice is low. She wasn't sophisticated to know that he had the blood of a wolf. Even so, he'd been told he was a beautiful monster a long time ago during his humanity. He could have been any creature, but it was that acid of his personality that really shone through.
She was falling into pieces and he wasn't wavering. Flesh started to peel away, to drop off from her in wet chunks with every lashing until this other feline, and decidedly less human, figure burst from its flesh cocoon.
"Tell me now that you don't know what I'm talking about." He bent down, hands on his knees, "Or are you still feeling confused?"
Tony isn't able to say much of anything, it all comes out in growls and hisses but that's okay because even her Beast is pissed at this guy. "Long canines are bared without fear as she crouches low, tail a metronome flicking out the rhythm of her anger. "The guy lowers himself toward the Beast; Tony shifts her weight back, ready to pounce if she needs to. "Wants to. "The primal hunting urge is a red ribbon that weaves itself slowly through her gut, teases the back of her animal brain until she can't tell if she's tasting it or not.
Another warning growl rumbles from her broad chest, another hiss flashes from between sharp teeth and she never takes her eyes from her target.
"Oh come on. What sort of predator are you?" She may have known, at that point, that she was being goaded. That he opened it, that he welcomed that harshly language he had come to know so well. Don't speak poetry, speak in bites and blood. She might have known, somewhere in that lizard brain, that a person was never goaded if the party doing it thought they would fail.
He was initiating a dangerous dance with a newborn who still smelled like blood and human. He crouched and squinted at her, his elbows pushed inside his bent knees, his smile wolfish and excited, "At least you don't look like total shit."
Maybe the neophyte Beast understands the human tongue while in this form, maybe not. "The Asshole's tone, though, can't be misunderstood. "The goading works and with perfect grace, the cat leaps with claws and teeth out. "At the very least, she can bowl him over and get in a good hit. "The Beast doesn't calculate risk, it acts on instinct and instinct is singing a lullaby of blood and shredded flesh and a man that eats his words in death.
Some part of her must have known that if someone was goading that the resulting strike was largely anticipated. The problem with handsome devils were that they were devils and had a devil of a time in the world. She was far from being his first or final fight.
She launched. In the one second between her legs springing her to him and the collision, she might have seen him smile. The impact was absorbed by his body and took him to his back like she hoped. His left knee had risen to his chest so that once his back was on the ground he placed his foot perpendicular to her ribs, her sternum resting between the ball and heel of his foot.
Her claws had caught his shoulder, biting into it with lines that buzzed red afterward. Before her limbs could calculate a more effective blow he shoved, launching her back against the alley wall. Sitting up on his elbows her looked at her, "I can do this all night. You probably haven't felt this alive since the first time you had your first, proper fucking."
Tony has a lot to learn. "She isn't a born fighter, finds it hard to think like one now. "The Beast doesn't give a shit about any of that, it's not lost in higher thought. "It's down in the bogs of gut instinct, fight or flight, blood pounding and teeth tearing. "
Suddenly, the large cat is flying through the air, hits the wall and scrabbles to land on her feet. "The taunting words don't register, not like he thinks they will, she just hears that voice. "His mocking threats make him an enemy. "Tony stalks forward slowly, muzzle wrinkled to bare her teeth again.
It likely didn't matter if she understood him. Even if she didn't know English, certain ways of speaking had the power of being known. A taunt was a taunt regardless of the word choice.
"Ohhh, come on. You're going to miss all the fun." He sat up, putting himself eye to eye with her. He pointed with his chin down the alley and then looked back at her, "Your first moon and you're not going to hunt' What if I promised it'd be fun?" The cloth at his shoulder was starting to blood in wet, red flowers from her claw marks.
Pink nostrils flare at the scent of blood, the sense that she could take the advantage if she pressed. "The Beast wants to finish this, Tony's human mind (shoved in the back of the brain") wants to run. "Silently, they battle until the mention of a hunt perks the cat's ears. "Swinging her head, Beast looks beyond the man to see the wider streets of RhyDin, the lights that fly by with each roaring engine. Scents assault her now that she focuses on them, some repellent and some enticing. "Sweet and sour mixed together, the Beast doesn't know what to make of them. Wants to find out. "Curiosity won't kill this cat.
Snorting softly, the great clouded leopard darts around the man, taking off in the direction of freedom to hunt and prowl and maybe even howl at the moons.
