Stray

NAME: Nate Jones

PRONOUNS: He/Him

FACECLAIM: Tom Holland

AGE: 26

SPECIES: Shifter

RANK: Associate

OCCUPATION: Box Office Assistant and Cleaner at New York City Ballet

BIOGRAPHY: (TW: Torture, Abuse, Kidnapping, Dog Fighting)

Lucky was never an adjective that could be used to describe Nate Jones. Left in an orphanage when he was a baby, young boy never knew his family. In a way, his family were the workers and the children who grew up around him, and then, as he grew older, it was one foster family after another that he tried to attach himself to. Never really belonging anywhere, Nate tried to find home, he tried to find someone who could accept him for who he was. And yet, no matter what, nothing work. While he wasn't the most rebellious person in the world, at the age of sixteen, unable to take it any longer, he packed up whatever he had and left the upteenth foster family he was living with.

Being fifteen and freshly homeless didn't bode well with Nate. He didn't have the most experience in the world, and he had no idea what to do. What he knew, however, was that he needed to figure his life out, and not exactly going to school or doing anything with his life was really helping him. So he hitch-hicked, slept anywhere he could, and slowly travelled the country, trying to find even the smallest hint of his roots, trying to figure out who he was. It was a difficult road, one filled with abrupt stops and failures, but Nate tried. He relied heavily on the help of the strangers, doing everything he could to avoid the authorities, and he hoped that he was suceeding.

At least, until he woke up one night, tied to a chair in a dark room, with no memory of how he got there. What happened next, however, was never going to leave his mind, the mental scars being etched in his mind just as much as the physical ones. He had no idea why this was happening to him, or who was doing it to him, and pain quickly clouded his mind. If he wasn't hurting, he was trying to recover, and soon enough, Nate lost track of time. However, no pain matched what soon came next; he had no idea what was happened, but after torturous hours, he wasn't... himself. He wasn't human. He felt his bones break, his skin change, his muscles tear and rebuid itself into something different, something new. As his vision shifted and his senses changed, Nate soon found himself as... a dog. Terrified and confused, he had no idea what was happening, but those who had him tied down seemed to be happy. Over the next few weeks, or maybe months, Nate was forced into shifting again and again until he was no longer screaming each time, and soon enough, he knew why this was happening. When he was forced into dog fights, it was new torture all over again.

The next year or two were just that; fighting, recovering, and being locked away. Nate had no idea what was happening, why this was happening to him, but the people who had kidnapped him clearly knew what they were doing. They knew it almost too well, and he was beginning to fear that this would be the end of it. Recovering was getting more and more painful, and Nate knew he had to do something about it. One night, after a particularly sucessful fight, while his abductors were celebrating more money, Nate shifted. It was painful, and his grunts and screams were drowned out by the music played upstairs, but he finally did it; he was a mouse. He still had no idea how it was happening, or why, but Nate had a way out, and he took it. He was terrified, hurting and completely messed up, but after what felt like hours of running down various pipes, he was outside, and he was free.

Did it?

This one's a little hard to read, but she'd still continue having fun. The night was young, she was tipsy, and she didn't have any other plans for the night.

She shook her head at the joke, an incredulous laugh escaping her lips as she looked over at him. "Can you confirm that?" Adeline rose her brows at him, challenging him. "How fit my fridge is? I don't think I've had you over yet for you to see for yourself, but my memory isn't always the best."

"Well, it's a pleasure, Adeline. You've no idea how amazing it is to meet someone who knows how to joke along." He mused, taking her hand happily. "I'm Nate."

Regardless, she couldn't say that his efforts didn't work. They had managed to escape the men's eyes and Rory quickly muttered an incantation, turning the both of them invisible for as long as she had the power and he was holding onto her hand--the former wouldn't last long.

As the men started to scramble and look for the two, Rory turned to her new travel companion. "I only have about two minutes of juice in me, do you see an opening where we can escape?" she whispered, her hand still holding the spell with immense effort. Rory was weak, she always had been, and it was why she preferred magical objects over the strain of maintaining spells.

Something was weird, and within moments, Nate could hear the girl whisper something. Something weird, something... was that magic? Was she a witch? He hadn't met many of them - if any, really, but it was fascinating nevertheless, and if they weren't running for their lives, he would have so, so many questions he'd be dying to ask.

"Are you a witch?" He asked curiously before focusing once more, cautious that their time, quite literally, was running out. The men were everywhere, and there was only so much that they could do. Looking around frantically, Nate could only come up with so many options. "Look, the window over there-" He nodded towards a window maybe a little too high up. "Think you could make it up there?"

Her lips opened for her to beg for help but nothing came out of them, instead the throbbing in her head increasing tenfold. With a small moaning sound she pressed her cheek to the cold ground wishing everything would stop tilting in a hideously unpleasant way, like the earth was tipping on its side, no choice but for her to cling onto it in the hope she wouldn’t fall off. Reaching out one arm she tried to find the animal that had helped her, no consideration that it might be dangerous in her current state. Instead just wanting to feel like she wasn’t here all alone in this moment, hold onto something real, because nothing felt like it was. Her body didn’t even feel like her own anymore. She was sure she’d murmured the words thank you before finally passing out properly but there was no way to be sure. No way to know that instead she’d just let out a strangled cry before falling unconscious on the ground. 

It felt like an eternity later that the man finally managed to get away from Nate. He could feel the pain starting to settle in, but the adrenaline was running high. Taking a few steps towards the man, Nate barked, leaving it as a warning before he finally returned to the girl, who was, much to his worry, already on the ground. What on earth was done to her? He could see her reaching for him, and without thinking, Nate moved closer, sniffing her before licking her face both to hopefully comfort her and give her some kind of reassurance that everything would be okay. But, would it? He was in his dog form, and she was clearly not doing so well. Nudging her gently with his nose, he whined again, watching as Rylan fell unconscious, letting out a heartbreaking scream; Nate knew he had to act quickly. It wouldn't look good if someone came across them like that, it was extremely wrong to leave her alone, but he also couldn't just shift back into his human form, at least not here. Then again, what else was he supposed to do? Nudging her a few more times, hoping that she would regain consciousness, Nate quickly gave up on that, looking around before finally running back to where he had hidden his clothes. Shifting back was painful, he knew something was definitely wrong, but he had no other choice; so when he returned to Rylan just moments later, haphazardly dressed, he knelt down to her, checking her pulse. "Come on.. please be okay..." He murmured, gently rolling her over so she was off the cold ground and in his arms. "Rylan? Come back to me... please? I need to get you somewhere safe, okay?"

“Hey…who are you?” She slurred as the cold night air hit her face, it was about 80 degrees still but the contrast from inside the venue was enough to make her come back to herself for a couple of seconds. Turning to look over at the other through blurred vision, feeling the hard texture of a brick wall up against her back moments later. Cold, rough where it touched her skin thanks to her dress being backless. In hindsight a stupid choice but now she was going to have to deal with it. Hot lips were back on her neck again making her squirm with a frown, what the hell was going on? “Hey….hey…” She tried to speak a bit louder, both hands going to his chest as she pushed him away but to no avail. Rylan was 120lbs soaking wet, this man must have at least double on her at this point. Twisting her head to the side as he tried to kiss her on the lips she felt herself start to feel sick, nausea at the base of her throat as she gasped for air. 

"Oh no. Not the appliance wars- that sounds dangerous." She picked up her glass, smiling over at him over the brim before taking another sip of her drink. "You seem strong," Addy let her eyes drift along the stranger's face as she leaned her elbow on the bar, resting her chin delicately in her palm with a playful smile, "Can I call you when my freezer tries to ice me?"

"We'd all be in for a shock if we ever thought we could win against them, too." Nate grinned, raising his brows in surprise at the compliment. He wasn't used to them, not when he was quick to just disappear in the masses of people, being a simple nobody. "You're too kind! And I bet you could fight them off with ease. But if help's ever needed, I'm there!" He agreed as a smile was quick to return to his face at the woman's joke. "Hey, if the freezer ices you out, you're still good! Besides, your fridge might be even better at that- it's so fit, it's always running."

Chandler didn't now who this guy was, but he could smell the shifter on him and was very curious to learn more about him. But he was intrigued about the washing machine and air conditioner. Rolling his eyes at the cold shoulder pun, he quickly realized he was going to have to match it with his own bad pun. "The washing machine was laundering money. I'm sure whoever set it on fire, getting rid of it was a load off their mind."

Nate couldn't help but laugh out loud when the other spoke again, despite how silly the joke was. Maybe he was that drunk, maybe he was tired, or maybe it was all of, plus Nate's odd sense of humour kicking in. "That's... a very good point. Maybe ac was the distraction all along!" He grinned, playing along. "Who would ever suspect a kind and lovely washing machine when the manipulative ac's there all along?"

"The traffic isn't actually that bad this late at night. I mean, it's not like the subway is threat free." She awkwardly went over to the guy and grabbed an arm. "You must be my, um, date, yeah! Sorry guys, we are just going to get going. I was worried I was getting catfished and told my girlfriends that they should expect a text from me or call the police."

She looked over at her 'date' and blinked. "Um, is that also why you brought a gun? Yeah, no, I'm just sweet little innocent me, no need for that..."

"Yes! That's so weird, isn't it? I still have no idea why we decided to meet up in here in the middle of the night. I mean, I knew you liked extremes, but this is something else." Nate joked along with a smile on his face, trying to play along with whatever the girl was trying to come up with. They had to find a way out, and fast, or this would be the last time they'd see the city they were currently bashing.

"Oh yeah, you know? It's a weird world out there, you never know when you might need a gun or two just to get out of an awkward date..." He continued to joke, sliding his hand down so that he could take her hand rather than her just holding onto his arm. With a quick wink towards her, he focused back onto the men, who were dangerously close, and, without thinking much, pointed the gun at the nearest light, firing at it. It was only by a miracle that he didn't miss, shattering the light bulb and quickly using the commotion to drag the girl further into the shadows, away from the obvious threat.

Pushing her way through the throngs of people to the dance floor she threw her arms above her head, spinning around a couple of times as she let out a scream of delight. Whooping as arms wrapped around her from behind and she happily started dancing with whoever the guy was that they belonged to. It was nights light these that allowed Rylan to come out of herself more easily forgetting the darkness she would be sucked into the next day when she finally woke up. The little additions to her bloodstream gave her a new lease on life that made her appear as someone who didn’t have a care in the world, focused only on partying, which technically she was. Right now at least. Feeling eyes on her the brunette turned to look over at the other side of the dance floor where she noticed a man turning away from her, sure he was the one who had been looking moments ago. That feeling you get when someones eyes are on you that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, that was exactly what she’d just experienced. Even if he had seemed to now be deep into conversation with someone next to him. Nate. She’d heard someone speaking to him a couple of times before who’d used his name, although she didn’t have his last one, only knowing he worked at the New York Ballet in some capacity, though she’d never seen him dancing. The sensation of lips on her neck made her break out into a laugh, hand reaching back to cradle the head of the man who was now kissing on her neck, still dancing. When he murmured that he’d gotten her a drink while she was gone the model didn’t think to question the motives in the slightest, instead just taking it from him so she could take a couple of mouthfuls before turning her attention back to dancing. 

He couldn't help but keep glancing toward the girl - Rylan - who seemed to be absolutely enjoying herself. That was the way to live life, let loose, and party, although Nate couldn't imagine himself ever really doing that. How could he, when worries weight heavy on his shoulders? It was all too difficult. Instead, he focused on dancing as his friend did the same, getting lost in the music. It would've been easy to pretend this was the stage, that he was actually up there with all of the professional dancers, but it would never happen, not in this lifetime, or anytime else. He didn't even realize when he ended up on the same side of the dance floor where Rylan was, and Nate would've lied if he said he didn't notice the way the other man moved behind her, getting too close. But why would it matter to her? As far as Nate knew, he was a total stranger to her, probably just that nobody who once or twice checked her ticket. Maybe told her where the bathrooms were or pretended to completely not exist so as not to disturb her or her parents. Yet, still, he couldn't help but keep glancing back at her, worrying about how close the other man was to her... surely, all was fine? Maybe he was just her boyfriend, or one night stand, or whoever Rylan wanted him to be. A woman this beautiful had to have men, women, and everyone in the palm of her hand.

She chuckled at the joke, setting her glass down with a soft clink. "I think Jersey might have that title locked down, unfortunately." She turned to the boy, "How do you know the machine wasn't an accomplice? Dirty scoundrel might've instigated it." She tried to keep a straight face, but failed, a grin taking over her face as she laughed.

where: any bar in NYC status: open @adportasstarters

“So why do they say that this city never sleeps? Because every time I’m in the subway, there’s at least one sleeping person, and I don’t get it. I mean… the seats there aren’t even comfortable, you know? It might be just me, but I’d much rather go for a bench if it’s a necessity.” And more often than not, it was, but it wasn’t something Nate was willing to accept. He was three drinks in, he was tired, and the person next to him seemed to at least be willing to listen to him. “Or is it because there’s so much random stuff happening in this city? The other night, I was walking home, and I saw a washing machine and ac on fire in the alleyway. I mean, ac, I get, it probably gave someone a cold shoulder or something, but what did the washing machine ever do to anyone?” He rambled on, finishing his drink. Maybe it was time to call it a night, but he had no intentions to do that just yet. “But then again, if that was the case, people would call it the city that stays weird 24/7.”

.

Generally, Sai wasn’t the type to go out to bars because they were loud, dirty, and most people wouldn’t come within a mile of him. He had his suspicions about why this was, and settled on resting bitch face. Many people over the years had informed him that he had it. There wasn’t much he could do about it. Yet tonight, without Chan by his side - who had claimed to be busy - Sai had adventured out and somehow found the one person in a New York City bar that wanted to talk to him. Or at him, Chaisai hadn’t figured out which yet. Add in alcohol and he was slightly struggling to keep up with the conversation. “Well, yes?” Sai tried to add after the bit about the subways, but the other man was on a roll. “Cold shoulder?” He was getting more lost by the minute. “I’m honest...I...don’t know what you’re talking about.” The drinks Sai consumed appeared in the heavier than usual Thai accent that soaked his every word.