ArchivedLogs:Crying Wolf

Crying Wolf
Dramatis Personae Killian and Anette
In Absentia	2015-09-24 Anette attempts to apologize for Daken's behavior. Takes place immediately after New Family.
Location <BOM> Beachfront - Ascension Island
Largely rocky and desolate, the majority of the waterfront on this small island is an unwelcoming place. Craggy and forbidding, lined with jagged black rocks, the coast here can take a fair bit of scrambling to navigate. Here and there, though, the coastline levels out to narrow sweeps of pebbly beaches littered with shells and seaweed carried in on the frigid tide. Occasional old trunks of fallen trees dot the narrow beach, victims of the storms that frequently plague the island. One small stretch of the western shore holds a small dock, a few boats usually moored there. Tucked off the mainland coast in Jamaica Bay, the buildings and lights of the city can be seen far across the water. Although the bird had been seen to take off in the direction of the city, it'd not made it so far. No matter the form, Killian's tired, and he's no stranger to sleeping in strange places. It's part of the benefits of his mutation- anything can be a place to rest, though little compares to actual couches, cushions, bed. The beach has numerous fallen trees and old craggy black rocks. It's within one of the crevasses between large sharp rocks and the patchy browns of an old oak's water-logged remains that a large shaggy form lays, curled up. It's not a dog, there. Not by correct definition anyway. The wolf is curled tightly in a ball, its pelt of greys, whites and tans making it well-hidden amidst the beach's rubble. The most telling of the creature's presence is likely the shifting of the fur along its neck and back along with the winds that sweep up from Jamaica Bay. Like many who frustrated and find themselves in need of clearing their mind, Anette decided to go for a walk. Unlike most, Anette's walks tend happen approximately forty feet in the air. Though she may be hindered on the ground by her leg, she's just as quick and mobile in the air as she's always been. Out of habit, her eyes scan the ground as she circles above the island, picking up on the finest detail despite the dark night and distance between her and the ground. Naturally, it doesn't take much for her to notice a wolf peacefully resting amongst the rocks. Knowing full well that the island does not contain wild wolves, she can only come to one natural conclusion and she swoops down, landing semi-gracefully a few yards away, one-legged. Her wings spread to steady herself, she carefully crouches down and sits on the rock, tucking her wings in once she's comfy. "Hey," is all she says, leaving it up to him to approach her if he so chooses. The wolf lifts its head at the descent and landing of the owl-one, yellow-gold eyes watching. Ears are pinned and despite it being a nonhuman animal, there's a bitterness that could be anthropomorphized in the way it appears. Hackles aren't raised, the creature isn't overtly aggressive, but he does stand. The motion is slow and deliberate, his head remaining lowered on level with his shoulders. The skin of the top of his muzzle creases as if about to growl at Anette. But there's a snort from him, and he moves to step out of his groove between the rocks, though not towards her. "Sorry, next time I'll remember to bring a Milk Bone. Or would you prefer bacon?" Anette says, some humor in her voice. "Look, I know it really doesn't mean much, but I'm sorry about the way he was. I don't know what his problem is with you. Well...besides the obvious." She watches him move about but doesn't appear threatened or distrustful of the world. She barely looks interested. Propping her arms behind her, she leans back and gives a slight shrug. "I don't know what else to say." The large shaggy canine shakes from nose to tail, paused in his departure. Instead, he steps up onto a flat out jutting of a boulder. There is a faint but audible growl, low in his throat. It's brief, his attention turning instead to look out over the water. Pinned ears ease in how tightly they'd been pressed to the back of his head. The wolf sits, but a minute, two, three even pass before slowly the fur begins to fade, melt, dissolve. When what is left is only man, Killian is crouched, lifting one hand as he finds his balance to lay across a thigh. "Doesn't matter. You can't change a person." He's not very pleasant sounding, his tone flat, "But this sure as fuck won't help if he walks out here." Anette watches with some fascination as Killian changes back into his human form. "One of these days, remind me to be jealous of your ability to look normal at will." She patiently waits for him to morph fully before continuing. "No, no you can't. And as much as I try to understand him, even that falls flat more often than not." She turns to look out over the water herself. "I didn't hear him follow when I left. He's probably tearing the punching bags to ribbons. Or drinking himself unconscious. Which sounds like a fantastic idea, actually." "I can't always." Killian responds evenly to the first. "I was stuck for a year." He seems uncertain of actually sitting, but after a glance over his shoulder, he returns to looking out over the water and sits down on the rock, letting his legs swing over the edge. He leans forwards over his thighs. "I forgot what I looked like." That gets some of his typical arrogant grin back, though he shakes his head. "Sorry, I guess." Is not perhaps entirely earnest in regards to the entire situation before as he shrugs his shoulders lazily. "I didn't really think about it." He raises a hand to rub thumb and pointer finger over the stubble that lines his jaw, "Nah." Amused, that, the grin spreading, "I'd like to stay here. Getting drunk may not make that happen. This training bullshit probably won't either." "Still, the ability to blend in. Animal or human. It's been a long time." His comment about forgetting how he looked gets a soft chuckle from Anette. "That gorgeous face? Never." She does shake her head though. "It's not your fault. Not really anyway. Honestly, I didn't really mind. I mean...it's a little unnerving to wake up with someone else sleeping next to you, even if they are a dog. I was really more concerned with Daken reading more into it. Just when I thought things might be ok between us..." She pulls her good leg up, resting her chin on her knee and wrapping her arms around her leg. She does grin softly as Killian continues. "What's the worst that could /possibly/ happen if we both got shitfaced?" "Yea." Killian agrees with her first comment, a look given to her out of the corner of his eye at her compliment. "Too true, too true. It was heartbreaking." The mocking of himself comes with placing his palm on his chest, hurt. "The dog chose it. But ain't many gonna listen to that excuse." He chuckles more openly now, looking down at his hands resting on his lap. "Yeah yeah. You two do your thing. Not worried about it. But ain't gonna promise I won't do it again." The grin is more of a smirk, but it faulters as if that's very much a true statement. "The worst?" Is asked with a hint of incredulity, "I wouldn't mind, sweetheart, but these people might." He tips his head back as if to indicate the island, "They don't know me. 'Cept maybe Ion." That draws a faint bit of that seriousness back, "Should probably keep m'head down for at least a bit." "Don't let Daken scare you away. The rest of the Brotherhood really is like family. You'll have no issues, I promise. Daken is just....Daken." Anette glances over towards Killian with a smirk of her own. "Hmm, I think if you're going to be sleeping at the foot of my bed, I should be allowed to pet you. It's only fair." She turns to look back out over the waters, picking up a small rock and tossing it in to watch the ripples. "Just...try not to provoke Daken is all I'm asking." She gets a look for the first thing she says, but Killian doesn't comment on it. There's a nod to her description of the brotherhood that's doubtlessly in agreement. He selects very little of what she says to actually verbally reply to, though he appeared to be listening overall. "How'd you two.. eh.. meet anyway?" He eventually asks, curious amusement lacing the question. But her caveat distracts him, his head tilted slightly in her direction, "How is that fair?" Is edging on playful, "I think that counts as touching. I'm sure there'd be a rule book or some shit. I'd like to wake up with all my paws." "We met here on the island, not long after he joined. It was casual at first but then it just sorta...became not casual. The future dreams didn't help." Whatever happened in those future dreams goes unsaid as Anette rattles of their history like it was what she ate for breakfast. His comment about the fairness of letting her pet him gets a playful smirk. "Technically you can't touch me. He said nothing about me touching, or petting, you." "So you've been here awhile then." A question, though not quite stated as one. Killian stands, dusting his jeans off as he does. He doesn't pry on the notion of her future dreams for the moment, priorities in the direction still of sleeping. "Yet." He adds to the notion of what has or hasn't been said. "We'll see." Is not a promise either way on petting, but the lighter expression he keeps and the casual wink that she gets is probably good for it. "Anyway, I'm fine out here tonight. You should be resting that damn leg of yours though." "A few years, though I was living in the city until recently. I still need to talk to Regan about getting a place here." Anette glances over the water where the faintest line of sun is beginning to peak on the horizon. "Yeah, you're probably right," she responds to the suggestion of resting her leg. She carefully pulls herself back up on one leg, giving Killian a quick grin. "If it helps you decide, I give mean belly rubs," she says, before she's up in the air and flying back towards the main building.