can't shake the devil sitting on my shoulder

Some may have found it strange to see the werecoyote out shopping for clothes. It wasn’t like she really paid much attention to what she wore on a day to day basis; the brunette was more likely to be seen sporting her favourite pair of worn out combat boots and an old flannel shirt than a well curated outfit. She mostly put this down to spending such a huge portion of her life not needing to care about her appearance - it wasn’t as though living in the woods as a coyote required knowing the do’s and don'ts of fashion. More recently, though, Malia had found herself with a desire to give a bit more of a shit about what she wore. Where was the harm in dressing a little nicer? "Oh, I don’t know if I’m the best person to ask for fashion advice," she replied to the woman holding up two dresses, shaking her head slightly. But she looked at the two outfit options, regardless. "In my experience, though, if want someone to pay attention, go with the more revealing option. Don't be afraid to show a bit of skin."

"I honestly feel like I've been running into nothing but creeps and villains since I moved to this town," she said with a sigh. Raina had moved to Beacon Hills with the hope of starting a new life, yet here she was, dealing with unknown dangers. The amount of supernatural energy in the town was concerning, but she honestly didn't know exactly who she could and couldn't talk to about it. "I work at Scarlet so maybe there? I generally feel pretty safe there." //@wildmalia

"Welcome to Beacon Hills. Creeps and villains seem to love it here," the werecoyote teased, a chuckle passing her lips. "Sure thing. I've never been but I've been meaning to check it out." Rumour had it that the Scarlet Lounge was a breeding ground for vampires - the very creatures that had killed her dad and maimed Stiles - thanks to being owned by two members of the Mikaelson clan. She'd been trying to gather as much information as possible about vampires and track down the identities of the ones that had hurt her loved ones, in order to get some kind of justice (or revenge). "Since you work there, does that mean a discount on drinks?"

He was taken back for a moment, perhaps he had assumed there would be pleasantries first, perhaps polite conversation. However, Malia knew what she wanted, which he admired, and they did not wish to hold back. His arms folded across his chest, brows quirked in curiosity. "That's intriguing, or should I be concerned?" He mocked, a smile remaining on his lips. "What exactly do you need help with?"

"The concerning thing is that ever since Mystic Falls merged with Beacon Hills, my town has been crawling with vampires who don't seem to give a fuck about killing innocent people," Malia's tone was serious, barely hiding her ferocity beneath her words. She breathed a sigh, squeezing her eyes closed for a moment before locking her gaze with Jeremy's. "A little while ago, my father was murdered by a vampire. I want you to find out who it was and help me kill them."

"that will never not be creepy." he murmured in response, then moved closer to malia, taking a seat next to her. "i mean, technically, this is my spot." he nudged her with a slight smile. "ain't it past your bed time?" stiles teased.

She chose to let the comment slide, merely shaking her head a little and breathing a slight chuckle. Malia recalled several times spent hanging out just the two of them on this bridge, but she wasn't aware that Stiles had staked his claim on the spot, despite him being the one to suggest spending time there in the first place. "Think you can share your spot for tonight?" She nodded in response, still staring at the rippling water below her swinging feet, admiring the reflection of the waning moon bouncing off its' surface. "Can't sleep. Nothing new these days," she sighed, turning to face him. "I could say the same to you; what brings you out so late?"

The banshee's attention moved quickly to the other as she spoke a smile lacing her lips, although when she finally faced her she could tell something was bothering her. She had a feeling she knew what she was going to say but it didn't matter she was going to let her tell her, at least she'd found the courage to do that. ''Anything, what's wrong?'' she quizzed tilting her head slightly. She wasn't going to hold it against any of them. Her and Stiles were no longer together so what did it matter really?

She squeezed her eyes shut, steeling herself to finally reveal to Lydia what had been eating her up inside every time they'd crossed paths since the redhead's return to Beacon Hills. In most cases, Malia valued honesty above most things. And it wasn't that she'd lied to Lydia; merely avoided telling her the truth. She'd slowly come to grasp that, apparently, sometimes sparing another's feelings - especially someone whom you care about so deeply - was the more sympathetic option. But it was time to come clean. She couldn't keep this hidden any longer. "Me and Stiles slept together," Malia blurted out. "It was a while ago, before you came back to town. But you were broken up and we were both dealing with our own shit. We were comforting each other and it just happened." She exhaled, daring to look her friend in the eyes. "I don't regret it. But I do feel guilty that we might've hurt you. I know there's some unresolved feelings between the two of you and I didn't know if it was my place to say anything."

CLAUDIA COULDN'T HELP LAUGH AGAIN. The other was right. Wouldn't that be something? Exploding egos could be a new business venture.... but she was distracted from the true purpose of the spell. "I don't think Beacon Hills would survive." Claudia pointed out before her expression softened. "Are you a Hale by chance? I knew Talia once upon a time..." Peter too, but mostly Talia. She had been the alpha after all. "I'm not exactly new. I was born and raised here but," Well that's too hard to explain just yet. "I'm Claudia."

"The town's survived much worse over the years, trust me," Malia remarked with a smirk, remembering the many strange, supernatural threats that her and her pack had thwarted over the years. "I was adopted not long after I was born but I've got Hale blood. Talia's my biological aunt. I never got the chance to meet her, but she saved my life; pretty sure my mother would've killed me right out of the womb if Talia hadn't whisked me away." The werecoyote spoke of the former Hale alpha fondly, as though recalling memories belonging to an old friendship. "I'm Malia. Tate or Hale, you can take your pick."

"I'm Raina," she said with a smile. It seemed like the fae had been meeting quite a few new faces lately, but she enjoyed it. She'd felt quite lonely for a bit and getting pulled out of that felt nice. "Thanks again for stopping, I didn't realize anyone even really walked over here..." //@wildmalia

"Oh, they don't. These side streets are deserted most of the time, save for the shady kinda folk who like to conduct their business in back alleys," Malia stated rather matter-of-factly. "You should grateful that I'm the one who stopped to speak to you and not some creep." The walked alongside one another, with Malia taking the lead slightly as she lead them out of the maze of side roads and onto a busier main street lined with a variety of bars and restaurants. "Seeing as you're the one in need of cheering up, you wanna pick where we're heading?"