Second Moon

[Existentially Odd]

He looked at her hand and then back up to her face, his body language clearly (and suddenly) agitated.  "Uh... I really don't want to go in there," he confessed after a few moments of indecision.  "It stinks, to me.  Nebi doesn't mind it, though.  If you want to wait for her to get back, she'll take you in?  She got a tour from Dominik last night, so... she knows more," he nodded, as if trying to persuade Morgaine that she understood this perfectly.

[Harlequin]

Her own nose wrinkled in sympathy, but the look she gave him was bordering on incredulous. How was he supposed to be able to quell a rowdy werewolf uprising if he couldn't even go in the building? It wasn't that difficult to let go though, and she shrugged.

Yeah, sure." She took his hand back on her ow, and looped his arm around her shoulders, liking his heat in the growing dark -- but also in an attempt to calm him down. "So do they smell like wet dog?" she asked, looking up at him.

[Existentially Odd]

He watched her curiously as he was draped across her body, their sides pressed together and he could only wonder how this was better than him holding her, but he supposed it was about... appearances?  She didn't want to make Alec mad and, truthfully, neither did he but that was exactly why he'd waited until the cubs were gone to kiss her.  They'd have told their mother for sure otherwise.  The fact that they were still gone and Morgaine was pretending that she didn't like his touch (when he could smell that she did) unless it was very boring made him impatient but he didn't see what he could do about it.  He'd always been dazzled by her and what she said went.

"Um," he turned to look as another werewolf went by, heading in to be locked up for the night, and thought about how he could describe their scent in a way she could understand.  "No, not that.  More like... real wolves that have mated, hunted, rolled in the blood of their kill, rolled on the remains of a week-old kill, fallen in a pit of manure, got into a fight with the rest of their pack and then become ready to mate again so all of these scents are sent off them in thick clouds of musk that clog my nose and sit at the back of my throat so I can taste it," he answered carefully, nodding and giving a small smile at the end of his summary because he felt he'd described it accurately.

"In there, it's dripping off everything," he said, thumbing towards the warehouse behind them.  "And when they all change together, the smell comes out here too, but I'm just here to catch one if one escapes, so I stay as far away as possible.   I don't need to go in there.  I'd probably faint if I did," he told her seriously, able to easily imagine that overwhelming levels of werewolf musk would cause him to fall unconscious to the ground.  "I think Nebi has something wrong with her," he confided, nodding again.  She had to have something wrong with her if she could stand going near a werewolf and as sad as it made him to know his cub didn't have a fully-functioning scent gland, it worked in his favour too, so he wouldn't lament it too much.

[Harlequin]

Morgaine frowned, making what could only be described as a 'dog-with-peanut-butter' face as he described the smell, complete with a slight smacking of lips – as if she were trying to get a bad taste out of her own mouth. "That sounds singularly disgusting," she said brightly, looking at the building with a new apprehension while inwardly thanking Zeus for her Human scent palate.

As he went on to say there must be something wrong with his child, she looked up at him, eyebrows raised, "Maybe she just likes that guy well enough to put up with it," she suggested, then asked: "So when do they all change? When the moon comes up?"

[Existentially Odd]

He snorted (unintentionally mimicking his son in the process) at the notion Nebi liked Caden enough to overlook his stink, already firmly of the opinion that Nebi would overlook a great deal in order to get what she wanted out of someone - and that she wouldn't give up until she was satisfied.

"I think so," he agreed with Morgaine, noting the darkness swarming around them now and knowing the moonrise wouldn't be far away.  "There will be a huge noise as they all shift and then the smell comes, like a wave to drown you.  Nebi told me they're all locked in rooms with glass walls and doors that keep them in, so everything inside is open to viewing.  The glass is very strong and people are walking around inside, we're just here as a... precaution," he explained, pleased that he'd remembered the difficult word that Dom had used to describe the shifters' role in things.

"They get fed meat and most of them sleep, so I hope no quick shifting will be needed," he mused, looking down at her and thinking that his cubs couldn't be too far away now, as their home wasn't a long drive away.  As he thought this, his arm moved off her shoulders and down, neatly encircling her waist as he stepped behind her.  His other arm wound beneath hers to link up over her stomach and he pressed his face in against her neck, inhaling her scent.  "You smell much better than a werewolf," he murmured.

[Harlequin]

Lips pursed, Morgaine nodded her understanding as he spoke and tried not to think about how nice it would be to curl up next to him in a nice soft bed. Ugh, he was just so warm, like a living blanket or something.

Not nearly as soft, though, she noted, as he stepped behind her. The years hadn't touched his muscular physique. Despite herself, a giggle escaped her lips as he pressed his face against her neck, and she tilted her head to the side to let him. Anyone looking would definitely think them a couple. But fuck them. She was just letting him smell her so he didn't have to smell werewolf-stank, right? Right. Satisfied with this, she folded her hands over his and relaxed against him.

"What do I smell like?" she asked, genuinely curious about the answer.

[Existentially Odd]

He hummed against her flesh, pressing his nose right against it, moving up into her hairline and down towards her shoulder to be sure he'd got all of the information he needed.  "You smell like trains and sweat.  Dirtiness.  There's faraway smells, some forest in your hair.  Hormones and a female scent that's sort of... spicy, maybe?  I think that's you naturally, but I'd need to clean you off to be sure."

Without warning, he opened his mouth and dragged his rough, cat-like tongue up her neck, licking at the places he'd smelled to be sure he was right by tasting.  He was also cleaning some of the surface smells off her, to get at what was underneath, though she may not have appreciated his methods of doing so; his licks weren't overly wet, as most cat licks weren't, and it would be very obvious that he wasn't holding the average human tongue in his mouth from the very obvious texture on it.

[Harlequin]

Trains and sweat? Well those weren't sound like pleasant things. She liked the spicy part, though, and hoped she smelled like cardamom, or paprika.

If he didn't remember their tickle-fight episode, he would likely be reminded of it from the giggles and squirming that erupted from the singer as he ran his rough tongue over the smooth side of her throat, "Quit!" she squawked, "That's not how you clean off a person!"

[Existentially Odd]

He pulled his tongue back in and chuckled against her ear.  "Well, it's not the most common way, no, but it would work.  If I licked you all over, you'd get clean!" he assserted and the intimate way he said it betrayed that he meant it with every possibility implied therein.

[Harlequin]

Clearly, they had very different definitions of 'clean' – the images his words  provoked in the singer's mind were anything but. Despite her misgivings about the subject matter (not to mention the heat spreading through her from the whisper of his breath on her ear), the giggles continued, "I'd probably die of laughing first," she said, "That was absolutely the tickliest thing ever."

But this wasn't how friends talked to each other, was it? No. They caught up. Talked about boring things. "But what's the deal with all this District Leader bullshit? Do the Shifters have one, too?" She'd heard rumors about the new political structure, but they mostly didn't apply to her so she didn't devote brainspace to it. Chance was oddly obsessed with the change on government, so she left that to him.

[Existentially Odd]

Her question quelled the playfulness in him rather quickly and he gave a sigh as he pulled his face away from her throat and merely contemplated her profile.

"Yes they do - me.  Shifters are spread through the city, though, so I don't know about making any sort of building they'd come to.  I made it so we have the woods, because they are the most commonly used place for shifters to run but... I've seen what some of the other Oligarchs have done, the places they've made and having some private land to run on doesn't really compare.  But a shifter definitely can't change form where it's populated so I thought the most important thing was to get us a place of privacy.  I have everyone's number and they all have mine, so if there's any problem I can help them but otherwise... I'm not very good at organising this stuff."

He looked perturbed after his confession because he did worry if he was any sort of decent leader - and he doubted he was.  It still bewildered him, how he'd ended up as part of the Oligarchy in the first place, though it had given him more than it had denied him, so he didn't regret the move, he just.... wasn't sure he was right for the job and that concern was even more gnawing now that he wasn't in the same building with the ability to bounce off everyone else.

[Harlequin]

Morgaine had to crane her neck to get a good look at his face, but when she dd, she told him: "I'm sure you'll do fine." Like she knew without doubt that he would. Perhaps it was the assurance of someone who had no idea what they were talking about, but it was assurance nonetheless.

"And if there's anything you think I could ever help with, you can always call." Which there probably wouldn't ever be – because really, what would she have to offer? – but she thought she'd throw it out there.

[Existentially Odd]

His expression was wry as she reassured him, telling him she knew he'd be a fine leader, but it shifted into a grin as she offered her help.  "I appreciate that, thank you," he told her sincerely and it looked like he was going to say more when headlights splashed across them and he turned to look at what sort of vehicle it was.  "The cubs are back," he remarked mildly and took a step to the side, leaving one arm around her waist instead of hugging her as intimately as he had been.  A sense of frustration welled in his chest, a feeling that he'd wasted his time alone with Morgaine, even though there would be more soon enough, and he'd been respecting her wishes anyway.

No sooner had the car parked than Nebi bounded out of it, this time wearing a pair of short denim shorts and a white button-up blouse with little puffy sleeves.  Her hair had been brushed but she still wasn't wearing any shoes, her long legs bare.  "We're back!" she announced unnecessarily as she stopped before them, arms clasped behind her back so that her breasts (now wearing a bra she'd managed to find) were thrust forward perkily.  She was swinging her shoulders instinctively, twisting them side to side very slightly as she stood there and grinned at them, her gaze moving between her father and the human woman astutely.

[Harlequin]

Morgaine's wry smile mirrored his own as he shifted his grip on her waist. So he DID know the kids shouldn't be seeing them so close.

"Girl, where are your shoes?" Morgaine clucked as the teenager bounced on up, all tits and tawny skin. "You'll get tetanus."  She looked briefly behind Nebi for her brother, but he was slower getting out of the car. Her admonishing expression transformed into a grin.

"Go find 'em so you can take me on a tour? I wanna see what this secret werewolf facility is all about, and your dad's chicken." She elbowed Tau playfully in the ribs as she said this, "Bring your brother, too, I guess. If he wants to come."

[Existentially Odd]

"I don't wear shoes," Nebi dismissed with a wave of a hand, her nose wrinkled as if Morgaine had said the most disgusting thing she'd heard in a long time.  "If something goes wong, we need to shift fast and shoes are just a waste of ime.  My feet are tough.  And Arik's still sulking about whatever went on before," she shrugged.  "He'll probably just stay in the car," she extolled giving her father a pointed look.  Arik was the sensitive one and Tau and Nebi were both bewildered by his emotive side most of the time.

"Come on!" she cried impatiently, grabbing Morgaine's forearm and literally dragging her away from Tau.  She wrapped both her arms around Morgaine's one as she pulled her along, heading for the entrance, finding it odd that she could smell her father and some heightened hormones coming off the human but saying nothing about it.  Her banter was too concerned with explaining the entry (she breezed them past the shifter who'd elected himself bouncer) and the sign-in desk and then how the cages worked once they got inside the warehouse proper.  Several workers were still moving about, checking everything was in place and all the werewolves seemed to have found a room to stay in, from their vantage point not too far from the foyer.

Unfortunately, Nebi's enthusiastic (and not always accurate) explanations of what went on (in amongst some hefty sneezes, admittedly) drew someone rather significant's attention and as she was busy waving her arm around to point at the places where the meat got dropped into the cells, he was busy hustling over to them to see what was going on.