A Storm Rages Within

“So you talked to my partner about it before you told yours? She’d support you way better than this revenge fantasy ever could.” Ciara replied, biting her lip before she pointed out that these were the kind of secrets that could wreck homes. Unblinkingly, Ciara watched him in his discomfort - she wouldn’t look away just because it was inconvenient, or painful. 

After a moment, he spoke again, and Ciara just cocked an eyebrow. Her lips pursed as half the blood peeled off the wall she had just painted, and scattered across the room to leave perfect mirrors of her marks on each wall. Her eyes dropping to his hands was the only warning he got before both his index fingers developed a cut so small it might have been from paper. Two drops of blood floated out of him, merged, and split into four, each dropping flying into a different wall. “Silence ears to these hands,” Ciara spoke life into the spell, and the blood sank deep into the wall, leaving only the faintest impressions in the paint. You would only spot it if you were looking for it. 

“Yes. Is that all?”

Ciara’s eyes narrowed as she cocked her head, her nose flaring. He spelled out her role in this perfectly. She was to be the strategist, the tracker. She had to lead him into danger, and then prance into the sunset as she left him to the wolves. Not even wolves, Ciara thought snidely, those he could handle. Fry them with his lightning storms. No, the war he wanted to wage was against an interdimensional mafia, without faces. A mafia with potentially unlimited power, that was somehow linked to demons. 

In short, in her mind, he didn’t stand a chance. 

“I won’t take your fucking money. Is that what you think of me?” Ciara spat, anger flashing across her face like a flame. Her expression cooled just as fast, like tempering steel, leaving a glowering core. “I do understand that you need to do this. You will fail. You’re a soldier, not an army; They will tear you to shreds, grind you to gravel. You said you need my help to even try. So why shouldn’t I save your ass by not helping?”

She stepped forward, and looked pointedly to the door, and dealt right from the bottom of the deck. “After all,  it isn’t like you don’t have someone to live for.”

This was the reaction he should have been anticipating, but he’d let his mouth run faster than his mind could catch up with, and now he had to face the consequences. “I didn’t--” But her ire faded so fast that the shock of it cut off anything he was about to say, and all he could bring himself to do was listen. She was right, he probably didn’t stand a chance, honestly. Even if he could turn to solid rock, he wasn’t immortal. He wasn’t impenetrable. He was still capable of death, and a demon surely knew its way around magic, if that was what this shadowy organization in fact was. But his resolve stayed in place regardless. He couldn’t just stand by.

That was until Ciara spoke again.

She knew what she was doing. A dagger right in the heart. “I still haven’t told her,” he admitted quietly. “About any of it.” The thought of diving into certain death, leaving Cassie and the kids behind, it shook him to the core. That, and the guilt that until Ciara had brought it up, the thought that he would potentially leave without a trace just as Lilo had, leaving Cassie alone once more, hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“But that isn’t our problem,” Ciara replied, setting down her blood and paintbrush, leaning against unpainted problems. “It sucks, right, but literally what are you going to do against and interdimensional organisation that can simply suck us away at the blink of an eye, with the most innocuous of situations. How are you even going to begin finding them?” 

She sighed, her eyes skimming over him, glancing to the drum kit. There was a ferocity in his gaze, thick as the lightning storms he’d summoned over the arena. This space they were building to bring peace to his neighbours, and Joey was talking about war. He may have been a soldier, in a past she didn’t fully understand, but that didn’t mean he was suited for this.

Ciara pursed her lips, opening her hands to him. “Why would I help you get yourself killed?”

“You’re right,” Joey said quietly, crossing his arms. “It’s not our problem. It’s mine. Because I’ve made it my problem.” He expected as much, honestly. Not that he didn’t respect Ciara. They shared a bond now that few had. The bond of fighting side by side. But unfortunately that seemed to be where the similarities between them ended. Joey was nothing if not determined though. “I don’t know what I’d do yet, but that’s the point. Make a plan of attack and then strike. I can’t plan on my own.” 

He could see the wheels turning in her head, but in what direction was a complete mystery. She herself was a mystery to him. Dark and brooding but with an odd spark. That will to survive lit deep within her. That spark was what ruled her life. Her decisions. And honestly, he couldn’t blame her. He’d made decisions with that spark in the past. Bad decisions. 

“It’s an incredible collar,” the mate offered, stepping forward a little as Mrs. Gracey and Joey went up the stairs. “Opals and white gold. We spent a few months designing it together.”

“Gosh,” Ephram said at his aw-shucks best, “that sounds like it had a fair amount of personal sentimental value then, huh, Mr. Gracey.”

“Todd, please, Sheriff.” The wolf came forward fully now, and Ephram saw that he was a little grey around the temples; older than his wife, with a relaxed smile where she was somewhat more brisk. He gazed up the staircase with an unmistakeable shine of love on his face, and Ephram found himself a little more curious about their dynamic. “Cheryl likes to keep specific boundaries around other public figures – she works for the Mayor’s office, so she’s very official – but me, I like first names.”

“Pretty fond of em my own self,” Ephram said, returning the smile, “so Ephram and Todd it is, then. Did the robber steal anything else like your collar? Sentimental, I mean–”

“–anything that might make this a targeted theft? No, can’t say they did.” Todd added after a moment, “…I write mystery novels, true supernatural crime, stuff like that. Not that I think I can do your job, Ephram!”

“My job ain’t so very hard, not in this town,” Ephram said, starting to get a little fond of Todd himself by this point; anybody who worked in the SBSD knew what a relief it could be to find yourself working with people who were cooperative and took you at good faith rather than needing to buck the system or fight the power or whatever their personal schema was. “Mostly it’s interesting, the sort of stuff that comes up. Soapberry’s an unpredictable place.”

Todd said, “All the same. Can I get you and your partner some coffee? We’ve always got a pot going. Come on in to–” he cut himself off and called up the stairs, “Mrs. Gracey? We’ll be in the kitchen! I’m giving Sheriff Ephram some coffee, when you two come downstairs come join us!”

Joey and Mrs Gracey were called to from downstairs by the wolf mate and Joey stood up from his crouching position. “I think I’m done in here,” he said, rubbing his hands together. He gestured for Mrs Gracey to exit the room first, always placing himself behind her. He had no problems in this role, but was glad Cassie wasn’t into the dynamic. At least she would get a kick out of it when he told her about it later. 

He followed her into the kitchen and graciously took the coffee he was offered, sidling up next to Ephram as he took a sip. “Everything taken seems important to the Gracey’s and their wolf culture,” Joey announced, setting down his mug. “It’s my personal, gut feeling that this was somehow targeted.”

“How should I know?” Mrs. Gracey began in irritation to Joey’s questions, but as she was about to launch into more quarrelling she paused, drawing closer to him, and sniffed at him. Quickly and without leaning in much to Joey’s personal space, but enough so that when she drew back, it was with a changed expression. One more knowing, her eyes a little darker, her smile bordering on salacious. 

“You’re the property of a wolf woman,” Mrs. Gracey said, pointing at Joey as her mate gave a slight whine where he was hanging back in the hallway. “That’s a relief. Somebody who’s been taken in jaw by a wolf will have a better idea of what to do here.” She angled herself to subtly box Ephram out of her attention, and the witch in response rocked a half step back, deeper into the house, closer to the husband with a little pointed nod at Joey.

Mrs. Gracey’s initial hostility seemed to have mellowed noticably now, and she set one hand on her hip and rubbed her forehead with the other one as she looked around. “My mate and I were out when this happened,” she related, “so I don’t know if the intruder knew what he was looking for or not. If he was looking for jewelry, valuables, then he grabbed what was visible and available. Came straight up to the bedroom to get his disgusting little grubby hands on my trinket box and stole my mate’s dress collar off its stand.” 

She began to climb the stairs, saying, “Come with me, Deputy Voeman,” and paying no mind to the husband peering up the staircase to watch her ascent. “

“Go on,” Ephram said to Joey lowly as the atronach passed by. “Catch what you can. I’ll handle things down here. And Joe–” Ephram ducked his chin slightly; they were of a height, so it softened his voice, but he was very aware of wolf hearing, “–you belong to a wolf woman, lean on it.” Whatever Joey and Cassie’s relationship dynamic actually was, clearly Mrs. Gracey had a specific view in mind. And a bit of judicious and proper beta behaviour on Joey’s part might net them some insights.

The shift in Mrs Gracey’s expression was noticeable before she even spoke again, and when she did Joey furrowed his brow a bit, but said nothing. He didn’t want to think of himself as property, but he also knew arguing would get him nowhere, so he simply nodded. “I am,” he admitted. Anything to keep her talking. 

And talk she did. Much more hospitable than before. Joey soaked up all the information, nodding to encourage her, and when she started upstairs, Joey quickly moved to follow. He nodded at Ephram’s advice. He belonged to a wolf woman. His heart certainly did. That was enough to lean into for him. 

Mrs Gracey led Joey to the bedroom. He stayed behind her, slouched his body language to mask a bit of his height. His first step was to make Mrs Gracey feel in charge and superior. 

“See, he made an absolute disaster of our bedroom. My mate and I keep things very tidy and organized. Structured.” She eyed Joey curiosity, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I’m sure your wolf does as well...” She pursed her lips. “A wolf and an atronach. An odd pair, that’s for certain.”

“She does,” Joey agreed. He wasn’t a particularly good liar, but so far, he hadn’t exactly lied about anything. “She takes excellent care of me.” He took a quick cursory look around the room, but stayed in the doorway. “Do I have your permission to look around, Ma’am?”

“Yes, of course,” she said, smiling even wider at the request. She seemed to be relishing in this. Joey bent down to closer examine the scene, doing his best not to move anything. 

“It seems everything taken pertains to your species,” Joey observed. “The collar, the claws, the trinkets. All wolf themed, yeah?”

Sad times, friends, but my muse for Darla has dried up already. Maybe she’s just too much personality for me to handle and she burned me out too quick. I don’t think time will make it better either, unfortunately. So this is goodbye for the prettiest Pettaline don’t @ me @ephrampettaline :P

That being said, I’m NOT leaving altogether. I’m sticking around with Joey, but I do need to on hiatus because I’ve been super busy lately. Probably until mid February. I’ll still reply to the few Joey threads I have, but I won’t be starting anything new until I get back. 

For a moment Isa worried that this might have been a terrible idea. If Joey started teaching her how to wrestle… well, just looking at his size she felt like it might not be the best idea. But then he started listing all kinds of smart tricks that she didn’t know about and she started taking mental notes. “Salt and iron for ghosts, just iron for fae,” she repeated out loud with a nod. “Got it. Anything else for other species? Is the garlic for the vampire an actual thing that works or did some vampires really hated garlic and started a rumor?”

Her eyes grew wider when he stood in a pose that suggested any moment he could start charging at her and Isa was suddenly told to try knocking him down and she didn’t even know how that was… was that even an option? “Me? Knocking you down?” she echoed his words in disbelief as if what he said sounded ridiculous. “Have you seen me? I’m like—half the size of yours. How am I supposed to—oh!” And finally, the lights switched up. “Okay, I’m coming. Though I should probably not announce it first, that is not good when somebody is trying to threaten me, right? Just ignore I did that.”

She bounced a couple of times on her heels, and then after a big breath, she was off, trying to work her speed since she was pretty sure she didn’t have any other advantage she could use. She tried going from more of an angle at him, not straight from his front, hitting him with her shoulder to try and push him out of balance.

“Garlic won’t keep them out, just gives them a nasty rash,” Joey replied, amused by how into the tips Isa was, and happy with how she was catching on. “There’s werewolves and silver, but not all are sensitive. Always a safe bet though.” He searched his brain for any other tidbits, but couldn’t think of anymore, so he simply shrugged and moved on.

Joey dug his heels in as she charged at him. He didn’t really know what to expect. She was a small girl compared to him, but that didn’t mean much. He’d learned to never underestimate people, because it often would come to bite you in the ass. When Isa hit him though, he moved a bit, but wasn’t anywhere near knocked over.

Isa bounced off of him, and Joey reached out to grab her before she fell on her ass. “You okay?” he asked, helping her stand up straight before he did the same. “Alright, I’m gonna teach you your first lesson. When you go up against someone bigger than you, use their weight and weakpoints to your advantage.” He pointed down to his foot. “The instep is a good place. Or kicking in the shin. Anything that’s going to topple them. Then when they bend down, you hit them in the face, or the....you know.” He pointed to his pants and whistled awkwardly. 

“I’m…very hard to kill,” CIara replied, looking back at him with a cocky smile. “That arena wasn’t even close when comparing to even just the attempts in the last two years.”

She turned back to the wall, painting symbols as old as time. Both small and delicate, and large and bold. It expanded from a simple sygil, and with it, she checked her spelling at every turn. When she found one, she licked her thumb and smudged it away, before continuing.

It was hard to listen to, the way he described his mind. Ciara hadn’t ever been haunted by her own life the way he was describing. Sure, once in a while she’d have a migraine that crushed her mind, and her back ached, but it wasn’t the same. Ciara wanted to understand, but in some fundamental way she didn’t. Couldn’t.

When he laughed, she turned back, tilting her head. “Is that really better? I’m not judging. They’re from another dimension. Best case scenario, we never even hear of the arena again. Wouldn’t you rather move on?”

Joey was very curious who or what had been trying to kill her over the past two years but he didn’t pry. He didn’t feel it to be his place. They’d shared a life or death ordeal together. Something that bonded them whether they liked it or not, but she was still such an enigma to him. She seemed to wear that fact with pride too. She never truly offered anything unless it was asked of her. 

Her answer to his musing though, it was about what he’d expected. He couldn’t blame her. He wished he could move on so easily. “To me it’s better, yeah. Even if we never hear of it again, it’s still out there, isn’t it? Still stealing people like us and making them fight for their lives.” He felt himself getting a bit overly passionate in his words, and knew his passion could often lead to anger, so he did his best to calm himself before continuing. “I wish I could just move on, but I can’t. Not knowing they’re still getting away with it.”

“I’m sure you will”, Rein assured with a smile. Joey was a good man, he surely would be a good cop too. The joke about copper made Rein raise his brow and then he just laughed at Joey’s explanation about it. “You do know I’ve named all my cats after metals. Copper, Tin and Brass. Like yeah, I know my coppers.” he chuckled after his own words.

Rein looked at the goatling hopping around the yard all happily and Rein had a feeling once the goat would grow Joey wouldn’t have the heart to let her go. Especially if he was going to let her stay in the house. “Yeah, I can give you a hand with that. So I take it you’d let her be out more after the winter?” He looked at Joey raising his brow a bit in a questioning manner. Then a random thought came to his head. “What kind of professions you actually have had during all these years? I don’t think we’ve ever talked about that. Like I know you have that soldier thing under your belt, but what else is there?”

Joey’s eyes shined a bit at Rein talking about what he’d named his cats. “That’s adorable,” he admitted, nodding. “Leaning into it. I like that.” It reminded him that he still needed to rename his rabbit. Having her named after his sister just felt weird now since she’d visited him as a ghost so recently. 

“Oh yeah probably,” he mumbled, still wrapping his head around the fact he’d agreed to this and now had a goat to look after. “Though I bet she’d love playing in the snow.” Reins question surprised him a bit, and he cleared his throat before answering. “Uh, well I was a carpenter for a little bit. And a mason. Had a hard time keeping jobs on account of my...issues.” He didn’t want to talk about it at that moment and hoped Rein wouldn’t press. “Just bounced around construction jobs, worked as a logger. Whatever I could sink my teeth into to work with my hands and just...forget.” Hell of a lot of good that did. 

“Wait, you just… get the muscles? Are you serious?” Isa asked back, surprised. “How is that fair?” she couldn’t help the added words slipping out. Sure, she didn’t need the muscles, she had a toned and amazing body because of the swimming, but damn it, that sounded really unfair. “I mean, good for you, but wow, others must feel really envious of you.” She figured this was for people who struggled to work out like how she was envious of those creatures who lived for longer than the human lifespan.

At his question where to start, she pondered for a second, rolling forwards and backward on her heels in the process a bit. “Well, what is the most effective thing you could suggest? I mean, you know a bunch of self-defense and you know what’s best to learn first, right? I am not planning on getting mugged or anything, not even sure if that’s a thing here when there are so many people who can just magic things for themselves and everything.”

“So really, just—what do you think would be effective. Where did you start learning these things exactly?” she asked, curious. “You learned these things for your job, right? Or did you go specifically for some kind of fighting style?”

Joey simply shrugged. “It’s not fair, honestly. But every species is made different for different things, you know? Both in the supernatural and the animal kingdom. And if I was unhappy with my body, there’s little I could do to change it. That’s very unfair for some,” he mused with another shrug. It was things like that he thought about far too much. 

“The first thing I learned in basic training, past the obstacle courses and such, was hand to hand combat. Wrestling, actually. But that doesn’t really help us,” Joey said, scratching his chin. He’d thought on this ever since she’d asked him for lessons, but hadn’t really pinpointed exactly what was relevant to what she needed to learn. “I guess we can start with the absolute basics, yeah? Salt will protect against ghost. Iron too. And iron works on fae, like me. Burns like the dickens.” 

“That’s the thing – ‘desperate for money’ ain’t exactly something we run into real often in Soapberry.” Ephram licked tarragon mayonnaise from his thumb. “There’s so many ways you can barter or trade, even when you get folks who’re chasin’ drugs or other illicit stuff, plain ordinary workaday money ain’t exactly top dollar, so to speak.” Ephram grunted as he crumpled up his sandwich wrapper and put it back in his lunch sack. “Did Cassie tell you her and me got trapped by these brownies who wanted to turn us into kids and sell us on the Changeling Stock Exchange or some crazyass thing like that? Anyhow, that’s what I mean! There’s always some other form of payment a person can wrangle if they really got the need.”

He held still mildly as Joey swatted the crumbs from his shirt, enjoying the small gesture; Ephram liked to be looked after, and even if Joey was his Deputy now, he’d been a friend first – which made personal boundaries a little more fluid regardless of them being at work. “Thanks,” Ephram said, re-straightening his lapels as they got out of the jeep and went up to the front door. “And yeah, shit – you’re probably right, a sex thing. Hey, ask Cassie if she’s got any claw rings. Might lead to some interesting situations for you’ns.”

Ephram snickered, but shifted it to a polite, professional smile when a woman opened the door and broke into his standard greeting and identification by saying, “Finally you’re here! Do you have any idea how terrified we’ve been thinking that this junkie or whatever it is can just break in here again? My mate and I have been worried sick that they’ll come back for what they didn’t get this time!”

“We’re sorry for any delay, ma’am,” Ephram said smoothly with a nod, scanning the entranceway to the mansion – a gesture that took only a couple of surreptitious seconds – before refocusing on her. “Deputy Voeman and I are here now, and I assure you we take this sorter thing real serious. It ain’t right that you been made to feel unsafe in your own home, and we aim to help fix that if we can. May we come in and take a look around, Ms. Gracey?” A male werewolf came into the hall, hanging back and nibbling his nails, wearing what Ephram recognized as a beta necklace tag that matched Ms. Gracey’s alpha tag. The report hadn’t specified that they were mated, and that did change things a little bit. Hopefully not in any way that would hinder the investigation, but you never knew.

“Ah yeah, good point. Still pretty used to human society I suppose,” Joey admitted. He often forgot how Soapberry functioned so very differently from how he was raised. Sure, he had his first six years with the tribe but he barely remembered it. Being taught of supernatural culture secondhand was much different from living in it. “Yeah, she did,” he confirmed, chuckling slightly. It was probably scary at the time but the whole scenario was a bit comical from the outside. “With all the strange things that happen here, sometimes it’s easy to forget that this town will never leave its citizens wanting for at least the basics.”

Joey hummed in reply to his thanks and followed Ephram to the front door, smacking him playfully on the shoulder with his knuckles at the joke. “We don’t need claw rings for interesting scenarios. Trust me,” he said with a smirk before the door opened. 

He let Ephram handle the talking as they walked in, waving his hand politely as he was introduced. He took the opportunity to look around more thoroughly than Ephram, tasked by default with calming the woman, as they were allowed inside. Even though it looked as if the entrance hall had been tidied, he immediately spotted signs of some sort of struggle. Scuff marks on the marble floor, rugs out of place just slightly. 

Ciara tilted her head at him, eyes thinning as a new sentence hung unsaid on his breath. She debated a beat whether to ask, and thought the better of it, turning to her spells.

“They won’t. You’ll be fine.” Ciara set her bag down and pulled out a big coffee thermos and a small iron bowl, with intricate designs hand etched all over the inside. Next, she spread a small plastic tarp over the floor where she was going to stand, just in case. Crouching, she opened the thermos, and poured thick red blood into the bowl. Next, a shed snake skin peeled perfectly was taken out of a tupperware and added to the blood. Sealing the thermos, Ciara stood and attached a sketch to the wall, and finally a paintbrush. As he talked, she began to carefully paint the blood onto his wall.

“All healed, finally. It’s good to know I can heal it myself, just agonisingly slowly.” She replied, tilting her head sideways. This was a simple magic any witch could do: drawing a perfect circle without hesitation. “How are you feeling? No lasting flashbacks?”

Joey could tell he’d been found out by the way she was looking at him. He’d made it obvious he had more to say. He was good at reading people but Ciara was too, it seemed. However, she seemed to let it pass and he was thankful. 

He watched her intently as she worked. Her use of her magic in the arena had made it obvious she was a blood witch, but somehow he was still mildly surprised she was just carrying some around with her in a thermos like it was part of her lunch. He’d maybe expected something dramatic like cutting of the palm and chanting, but she was just painting his walls with blood sigils. He’d been raised by his Mama to not trust witches, that they were dramatic and power hungry, and while he had grown to look past that ingrained prejudice, he supposed even a man like him couldn’t get past every stereotype he’d been taught as a child.

Rein’s reaction to the first bit of Joey’s answer was just a frown – he wasn’t a fan of Ephram, but he did know who he was and that he was the sheriff, so just knowing someone to get a job wasn’t really an explanation in the nymph’s books. But luckily Joey did give some more details about the thing and that answer Rein could accept and he even gave a nod to that. “You’re gonna be a good copper, you know. Keep the imps at bay.” He ended up grinning at the last bit of his words because at this point the whole imp situation felt like it was forever ago and just the whole thing felt a bit funny and weird now, so in Rein’s books it was okay to joke about it.

When Joey agreed to take care of the goatling Rein’s face lit up into a bright smile. “Great. I knew you’d take care of her.” Okay, he hadn’t been 100% sure would Joey agree to this weird request, but he surely had hoped he’d agree to this. “I can help building a tiny house for her if you don’t want to use the toolshed though.” The mention of a fellow nymph made him grin a bit. “We nymphs are twisted creatures, aren’t we.”

Rein watched the goatling with a happy smile as she hopped around the yard. Although Joey’s question caused him to chuckle and turn his gaze on the atronach. “Yup. I knew you couldn’t say no to a small and cute horn head.”

Joey couldn’t help but smile, at both the compliment and the joke. “Heh, thanks,” he chuckled. “Hopefully I’ll be able to help with a whole lot more than just imps,” he added, his tone attempting a joke but he was mostly serious. All he wanted to do was help, after all, in any way he could. “It’s a high endorsement, coming from you. You’d know all about coppers, huh?” He said, winking and miming a nudge with his elbow. But when he realized his dad joke didn’t quite make sense, he added, “you know, on account of you being a metal nymph and all? I’m sorry, that was awful.”

Joey rolled his eyes playfully at Rein once again mentioning that both him and the goat had horns. Though he couldn’t get the image out of his head now of them having an old fashioned head butting contest. He also couldn’t get the itchy feeling out of the back of his skull that this all just seemed too peachy and cute. Like there had to be something else going on here. 

[text]: see you then! 

Isa was excited about the possibility to learn how to kick butt. Or, well, maybe not kick butt but at least learns some tricks to defend herself first. And then the butt-kicking could come later on.

Isa wasn’t a working out girl at all. In her mind, all the walking she did delivering the mail and the swimming she did, in general, was more than enough. Going to the gym was annoying and she didn’t really understand the different machines either, so what would be the point. It also means she didn’t really have work out clothes either, so she ended up needing to shop for a set because the only clothing items she owned that had legs were thighs and she figured they wouldn’t work.

She arrived at the gym a couple of minutes late and asked for directions from the lady behind the counter, catching a few moments of the ball bouncing before Joey got caught it and stood up. “Hey, I see you’ve entertained yourself while you waited. Do you come here often?”

Joey smiled brightly as Isa walked in, setting the ball he’d been bouncing into a bucket with the others. “Hey!” He greeted. He already knew her well enough to forgo a handshake, but not well enough to go for a hug or anything like that, so he simply nodded at her with a sense of mild awkwardness 

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckled, “I wasn’t waiting too long, don’t worry.” Not that she seemed particularly worried about that. He shook his head at her question. “No, once or twice maybe? My muscle is sort of part of my physical make up as an atronach. I can’t gain or lose it. So there’s no real need to work out, though sometimes I do just for the routine of it.”

He looked her up and down for a split second, noticing her clothes looked new. She probably didn’t work out much either. “Swimming is excellent exercise. I’m not surprised you’re so fit.” And after he said that, all he could do was sincerely hope she didn’t think he’d been checking her out in any lewd sort of way. 

“Have to say, it ain’t often we get calls like this.” Ephram balanced his lunch sack in his lap as Joey drove the sheriff jeep, carefully extracting his parchment-wrapped sandwich (roast chicken, double-cream brie, spiral-star apple was written in Freddie’s copperplate hand on the paper) and tucking in with gusto. He was getting to lunch an hour and a half late and was ravenous, hence Joey being tasked with driving duty as they headed out to the non-waterfront side of Jamara. Out there was all huge sprawling estates, favoured by certain nymphs and usually werewolves who liked to have the room to run and hunt, and Ephram continued as they went through the winding roads, “–I mean not the theft part itself, but the fact that they got thieved of, like, normal stuff. Considering Soapberry’s what it’s like, normally when folks go to the trouble of stealing, it’s fancy magic items. Rare shit. Not–” he consulted his notepad, “–jewelled collars and – and claw-rings.”

Ephram looked over at Joey, skepticism in the furrows of his forehead as he swallowed his bite of sandwich. “Claw rings?” he repeated. “You ever seen a wolf wear a claw ring? What the fuck.”

@joeyvoeman

Joey gripped the steering wheel of the jeep as Ephram dug into his lunch. He didn’t really feel hunger as a concept, but he had to admit the sandwich he unwrapped looked absolutely delicious when he stole a glance at it. This was Joey and Ephram’s first call together. Usually Joey was tagging along with other deputies as he learned the ropes. But he’d had a good bit of training by now, and Ephram had asked him along on this one, which Joey was beyond happy to agree to.

“I mean, even if that stuff ain’t magical, it still sounds valuable,” Joey mused as he drove up the winding roads between the big estates of the area. “If the perp was desperate for money, anything’s up for grabs. Though I suppose if you’re that desperate, there’s easier marks out there.”