Hell broke loose

"That ain't sauce, then that's ketchup." "You wanna cut the acid, you put in carrots before my Nona rises from the grave. Geeze."

There is a fire in your lineage that refuses to dim, no matter how tightly you try to cage it. The wolf in your blood is not chaos for its own sake — it is fierce devotion, the kind that scars. Your emotions arrive like a hunt: fast, merciless, and impossible to ignore. Anger is your warning signal, passion your battle cry, and beneath it all lies a bone-deep instinct to protect what is yours, even at the cost of yourself. But this heritage carries a shadow. You fear the moment your strength becomes too much — when your voice becomes a snarl, when your courage turns reckless, when your love becomes something sharp. Loyalty, for you, is a brutal thing: a pact forged through fire, blood, and survival, not soft sentiment. You were never meant to be lukewarm. You were meant to burn, to guard, to challenge, to ache. Your greatest danger and your greatest power are the same — the wild, ungovernable heart beating in your chest.

The clanks of the ratchet wrench continued for a few moment as his brows dipped. He frowned while working under the truck and gave a huff. Was she high? "A worm?" he repeated, while pausing his work. He slowly wheeled himself back out from under the vehicle and looked up at her, eyes narrowed in confusion, trying to get a good read on Maya's face "What kind of question is that? If you were a worm..." He wiped some of the grease from his hands onto his work jeans and shook his head, pondering the question itself, as how the hell she came up with one. First frog dresses, now worm universes... Did she have a screw loose? Was she troubled? "Do you want to be a worm?"

you're a nervous ghost. the people in your home are unfamiliar and dangerous, and you've never wanted to hurt anybody but you have to keep your home safe. you can't move on to the afterlife because someone has to look after the house. it was there for you through all your life, heartbreak after heartbreak. it held all the people you loved most, and though they're gone now, your home isn't. it's all you have left. you're loyal and caring and you worry too much. i hope someone comes along that loves the house the way you do. i hope you learn to let go.

"Annoying, rude. Hope somebody in the public would tell 'em off. Libraries are too much like churches to be pulling that kind of fuckin stunt. Be a real shame if somebody shoulder checked em and their phone broke."

Usually he tried to let stupid shit slide. He'd rather save his energy for something else. It was easier to handle the verbal kinds of bullshit people would throw. But the kid crossed a line. Once physicality started, all bets were off. It didn't help that his little stunt happened to soak the book he had been reading. The saturated pages slapped shut, the item closed before being tossed aside. He got to his feet, feeling the chill slide down his skin and cling to him through the fabric. Without a second thought he lunged, one arm grappling with Stiles' left arm as he tackled the village idiot to the ground. "You wanna play games!? That it?!"

"They're pretty great," His boots shuffled against the floor as he readjusted his leg to get comfortable. He gave a small shrug as he mulled over the question. What wasn't there to say about man's best friend, that hadn't been said before? "The little ones tho, the toy breeds? Yeah, nah. Folks need dogs that they can actually pet. Otherwise just get a cat. Yeah?"