There Are No Heroes

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Fate
"Fate is that element which suggests that some select events simply transpire in our lives - that some things aren't free will. While some view this as chance, others view this as some sort of greater motivator, that something larger or simply more complex than us is moving us along, good or evil. A lot of us won't get to know those major turning points in our lives where we did something that really mattered, and that is even if such events exist. But to me? How couldn't they? Just look all around you and try to convince yourself that this is mere chance, that we're not some sort of pawns in a bigger game. Whatever you believe, don't believe for a minute that things don't happen without a reason, even if you just want to call it 'cause and effect' and have yourself a nice day after without a second thought on it."

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Clear Springs, Utah
As a collection of characters for one reason or another you've been pressed into living in Clear Springs, Utah - be it in a pursuit of career, pursuit of happiness, or the pursuit of some freedom one could not achieve where they where previously. As a city Clear Springs is a well established location, with a respectable metropolitan area and large surrounding suburban territory that continues to expand into the colder, higher elevation area surrounding the valley that it is centered in. To the West of Clear Springs is the Red Hills State Park, a mixture of reddened sandstone and exposed granite, and notable for the fact that it is so close to the outskirts of town, being but a few hours' drive away. While not an enormous tourism area, Red Hills State Park sees a fair amount of travel and exploration, but the most remote, mountainous and forested areas are not frequented.

Iconic to Clear Springs is Lone Pine Metropolitan Area at the center of the city which is visible from nearly any edge of the valley, barring the deepest forest or over the crest of the Red Hills State Park. Most readily identified by the Trimillennium Towers, a series of three triangular buildings centered near the heart of downtown, the city itself is advanced and distinctly succeeding despite the economic recession, but it is not without its flaws; though the heart of Clear Springs in the Lone Pine area is upscale and admirable, the surrounding areas are still distinctly declining. The population, primarily a mixture of Caucasian and migrant persons, has two strikingly opposed issues; on the low scale, much of the crime affecting the common person comes from the illegal drug trade, whereas on the upper scale many organizations readily engage in attempts at corporate espionage.

Far North by three hours, Carver Air Force Base can be located, and while it has few actual aircraft remaining, it holds a fairly extensive grasp on the terrain and is a detachment of Air Force Space Command, formerly operating in conjunction with Peterson Air Force Base in Colorado. Though primarily defunct, it does have a large tract of land closed off to the public where its former radar ranges once tracked friendly and foreign objects alike and is only moderately patrolled in such locales due to the minimal interest and operations the base holds.

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Between Good and Evil
As a city, and a world to operate in, Clear Springs has no leaning toward or against the supernatural, and for the most part has no knowledge of its existence outside what is known in media. The people of the state are often religious and hold some superstition and taboos culturally, though there is no single identifying or remarkable factor; the normal person could prove as dangerous as the unnatural, as the unnatural could prove helpful. Given this, those of inhuman qualities are aware their world isn't too forgiving - that precautions should be taken and that their less... noble acts, be discrete, as it it is the 21st century after all.

The line between good and evil has a strange balance of power as both opposing forces are very much mere men in the city of Clear Springs, and those that aren't mere men seem to stay out of the spotlight as best they can.

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Characters - Players
Asher Tybalt - The Harbinger of Ferocity
<EMPTY SLOT> - No Player
<EMPTY SLOT> - No Player
<EMPTY SLOT> - No Player

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Notable Characters
None

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Past Events
None

Asher Tybalt
Unknown

It had been years since the last man I removed from this world, not in silence and honor, but in fury and rage; at the sound of a falling hammer, I took what is not mine to claim. I remember it so clearly when I close my eyes... I can still feel every moment - see every moment - of it; the fear, the confusion, the suffering, just all of what it is I seem destined to bring. I just can't forget it. But... worst of all, it wasn't my last... I failed twice in another lapse of control; in that so condemningly distinct storm of vengeance I did again what I swore I wouldn't. I, the real me, wanted to stop but the sad part was that the real me... it just wanted to keep going.

And I did.

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Asher Tybalt
Two Days Ago

With a dull thud a collapsed form created a human shaped heap on the ground, slicking the pavement in a dark crimson which rolled slowly from it and staining the earth. In the brightness of the growing moon as it peered over the valley's hills the scene became increasingly distinct - the light revealing more detail. The man, who now was without life, lay crumpled in the cooling air only faintly reaching for his throat. The motion, subtle as it was, was not easily ignored, and though it did him no good now, instinct had urged him to try even when life had already since truly escaped him and all he was left to grasp for was where the front of his neck had previously been; a gaping red maw now, his clothes were profusely stained from the assault. But he wasn't the only one here on the pavement - he was joined by his slayer who idly stood, looming well out of arm's reach.

In his golden eyes he absorbed the scene, taking in all of what had transpired and what it was that had happened; so many poor decisions had occurred blindingly fast. Perhaps stunned in thought he did not think to wipe the coagulating red from his hooked claws, or cleanse his now tainted fur of the spatter, but to merely look on in the moments after in total silence. The air, stilled now, had been earlier shattered by the unworldly cries and roars of a thing which shouldn't be, though it was here now before a man whose life fell away.

It all was so much a repetition of history; two men had lost their lives in such similar ways to the same thing.

Blinking, he at last exhaled and his bristling relaxed; padded fingers gently curling. With a soft curl, his jowls uttered a faint question, one growled and perhaps aimless for there were none to listen but he and the dead man.

"Why...?"

It came, so distinct yet so unnaturally, moving the soft air with its throatiness and power as the body followed its words in motion, approaching, slowly, the other former man. A large stained print formed beneath his toes as he crouched close to the man with a single limb guiding down to run through the red stained coat and fish free a firearm; in the palm, padded like the feet, the weapon was small and almost child-like. Ears pinning to his skull, he carefully held the weapon, examining it as the magazine fell free and of the fifteen it held, but seven remained. Shifting away, swallowing, the large bestial hand tossed the weapon aside having seated the magazine once more into it.

"Why?"

The inhuman voice asked again, looking away as he pondered what had become of the other seven bullets, knowing one had met his flesh but minutes earlier; the wound itself, lightly bloodied, was not painful now but it had been like fire earlier - the flames of which drove a man into a beast. Eyes returning to the dead man, he could not ignore the warm, sickly scent of human blood that choked the air; it was disturbing to taste it as he was, unable to breathe without doing so. Swallowing again, his sigh growled as he searched the pockets of the man further; no identification, no money, nothing, but he stopped as he found what had driven the man to error. A small strip of cloth, absent from its source, laid stuffed into the jacket the former man wore, and as the orange hands toyed with it, its scent offended and overwhelmed him with an air of potent chemicals. It was old, well worn, and bore the scent and signs of use.

Rubbing it between his digits, opting to use the hand which was not stained with the man's blood, he let it fall, thinking again as he slowly returned to towering over, he shook his head and looked away.

"Is this why?"

His huge knuckles began to crack as his fists tightened, feline jaw clenched and eyes narrowed in rising frustration.

"You did this twice to me to teach me some sort of lesson about myself? To show me that I kill people? To show that you damned me to be a killer?"

Snarling with the fur upon his striped back beginning to bristle, he snapped his attention back toward his parked car, the ways away it was before looking back; had he only been sooner or later, and another man wouldn't have had his life wrenched free in a single vicious blow. Turning his focus back, he seemed to slow and think more calmly about something, his rising anger slowing softly as time appeared to come to a standstill as thought moved faster than action. Looking down on the man, whose eyes had froze wide in terror and shock at the time of his death, the beast thought of something he remembered about both men he had met in this manner; they were nearly copies of each other in their scent, goal, and most of all... subtle presence of intangible evil.

Releasing his tense grasp, he sighed again.

"No... there's more to it."

---

Asher Tybalt
Today

In the light of the early morning as traffic continued to mount, Asher Tybalt went about trying to live out his life as he did most every day, driving his vehicle closer and closer yet toward the hub of commerce in Clear Springs. Hands as relaxed upon the steering wheel as he could manage, he had long since resolved himself to accepting the burden of commuting every morning, and given it was Monday, the fact that every individual within the entirety of the state had apparently forgotten how to drive over the weekend. Yet, what really kept his attention off of the sea of cars his mingled with, was what had transpired a few nights ago - a strange revelation that seemed to strike him. While he had washed the blood from his hands, it stained his conscious and did not seem to leave it for a moment.

Knowing he was to be early, too early, he merged further and further right until he exited off of a ramp. Steadily climbing in the silver two-door, he turned again and headed for one of the few safer areas in downtown - the coffee shop. Blinker clicking audibly, he shook his focus back into reality and away from... previous reality. Something seemed strange about this all, like he needed to head here today seeing as he had managed to leave earlier than normal, which was a feat all its own. Some fragment of instinct unknown pressed him to be here now, almost as if he was looking for someone, something, aside from his coffee.

Pulling the car into an open space, he glanced in the mirror to adjust his tie, somewhat paranoid at the odd turn of circumstances and the sense that he did not happen to be alone here; the others were waiting.

Jacob rose slowly from bed, yawning and stretching. He scratched his back, and lazily walked to the shower. The week following a shift was always stress free, as if he was always just leaving the gym, a light euphoria always on the tip of his frontal lobe. He showered and dressed himself, with ample time to get ready. He sat down to eat a bowl of cereal and turned on the news, idly watching some man in a tie talking to a camera in a street. Behind him was an alley way, and a cordon of yellow police tape.

"Police still have no lead on the male victim found in the Alleyway just two nights ago, here in Clear Springs. Initial suspects believe it to be a large animal attack, but forensics have not been able to match the bite pattern to any animal yet, and are currently investigating any possible animal escapes from local zoos. Police are asking that if anyone has any information of what, or possibly who did this, to come forward. Back to yo-"

Jacob turned off the tv before the newscaster could send it back to the station. He had lived through this before. Could it have been him? He went to the Red Hills park to change, and he was literally hours away. He couldn't have made it to the city and back in one night. That just wasn't possible. Suddenly not hungry anymore, Jacob dumped the cereal into the sink, and left for work. He was still early, though.

Jacob climbed into his Jetta and started it, driving through the suburbs, and into downtown. He stopped at a coffee shop, parked and got out of his car, an odd twitch deep in his reptile brain. He was walking towards the shop, on a sort of autopilot, his feet leading him without thinking. He walked in, looked around, and saw no one that consciously got his attention. But he smelled something. He felt the hairs on his neck stand up, as he smelled another Zoanthrope. Different, but similar to him. Jacob stepped in line, and got a small black coffee, and sat down at an open table in the corner, looking around for anyone.

Sipping his coffee, he thought to himself. "Its probably nothing. Just finish the coffee, and go to work."

When you take a wild animal out of it's habitat, you put it on edge. If it can be helped, one should avoid putting a beast in such a situation. An animal put on edge is arguably the most dangerous thing that a man could face up with; a creature that doesn't know a world beyond the one it came from.

In this sense, August felt like she was the animal taken away from it's element. The early morning sun was beating down on her and although it was far from the heat of the summer, the warmth of the southern state was something she wasn't used to. It was far too dry and it seemed like there was no rain to be had.

There was one aspect of comfort in this city however. It felt like it was alive and thriving, bustling with the movement of people actively participating in their daily routines. As August walked through the crowded space of downtown Clear Springs she found some familiarity which made her much less stressed about the entire situation because despite her loathing of the unfamiliar thoughts in the minds of those around her, any reminder of home was a welcome one.

Something was gripping at August though. It took every bit of strength she had to try and ignore it. Still, the sensation struck her. It was the craving to escape. All she wanted to do was simply escape the dreadful grasp of reality and of course August knew several ways to do this. The option that was the most appealing was another hit of heroin however.

Of course, she lost everything with the move. That included her drug connections among other things. She had also lost a bad profession and a lot of other bad influences. The positives of the situation were never on her mind though. August just wanted to find happiness and although coming to this place on the suggestion of a friend and fellow working girl, who was also searching for a better place to be, she couldn't help but feel remorse over the decision. At least she knew how to handle herself back in New York.

It wasn't until August was close to her destination that the thoughts swirling around her head started to dissipate. Although she obviously knew where she was and what she was doing it wasn't until this point that she truly became aware of her surroundings and the strange feeling at the back of her mind. It was almost as if up until this point some sort of instinct had switched on in her mind and guided her on an irregular routine... or rather, it was creating a new one for her considering she lacked any sense of direction in this new city. August simply didn't know what to do with herself and just like before she felt aimless in life.

The click of the woman's heels on the hard pavement below stopped as she came to a halt in front of the coffee shop. The windows that allowed any and all to peer into the humble business also gave off some reflection, giving August the chance to look herself over before she went inside.

Within the reflection August saw a woman smoking a cigarette with sunglasses obscuring the visibility of her eyes and hiding from the public what ever she might observe. She wore her dreadlocks tied back this morning, giving some form to the usually uncontrolled mess of hair. Her dress was a dark purple which matched the paint on both her finger and toe nails, with straps on her shoulders holding the apparel to her body and revealing enough cleavage to draw attention. Lower still, the woman wore heels that raised her height significantly and showed off the painted nails of her feet, leather straps securing the shoes in place and the lack of a stiletto replaced by a more block like shape making them easy to walk in.

August thought that the most beautiful feature of her wardrobe on this day was the bow around her neck. It was a simple silk ribbon that matched the color of her dress, wrapped around her neck and tied into a small bow. It was a small detail but she felt that it tied the whole outfit together and completed it in a way.

After observing herself in the window for a few seconds with a warm grin, August brought the cigarette that was held firmly between her right index and middle finger to her lips, careful to avoid smearing lipstick on the filtered tip as she inhaled the harsh smoke into her lungs. She then dropped the burning tobacco, stomping out the flame with her heel before opening the door to the building and entering.

Immediately August joined the line that was formed inside, waiting to order a coffee that would hopefully wake her up a little more and heighten the senses that were dulled by the obscure thought process which was brought on by the unfamiliar setting. She had always liked coffee anyway, everything from the taste to the way it smelled. While waiting, she idly scratched at the crease of her arm where old scars had been located. Luckily, the marks were slowing fading without her regular drug usage and their origin appeared much less obvious.

Something seemed suddenly strange to August however. She couldn't tell exactly what it was but there was something in this very room that gave off a presence that was alien but strong enough to recognize all the same. Imagery of wild beasts flashed in August's mind and the very familiar sensation of wanting to shift and change shape into such a creature flooded the woman's thoughts. She was overwhelmed by the sudden desire for ultimate freedom, to let go of this world and everything in it; she wanted to allow a bestial nature within her to be free.

August put those thoughts aside as she remembered where she was. Although she felt a presence that invoked such feeling... she still had to hide the power she had or risk losing everything she had worked so hard to accomplish. August was walking on a very thin line and even the smallest stress might just send her over the edge, pushing her to follow her instincts once again.

That was the last thing she wanted.

Looking into the narrow mirror fixed near the front window, Asher cinched the dark blue tie ever so slightly; adjusting the collar to better seat the silk-like neck ornament. Attention at first focused so intensely on himself, he sat back as an unusual twitch up his spine raised the hair on the back of his neck. Pausing, hands still fixed to the tie, his eyes shifted from himself in the mirror to the world further behind and what it held, to which he noted a woman in a dark dress; her heel pressed to the concrete snuffed out a formerly lit cigarette before she disappeared into the coffee shop. Exhaling again now, his breathing having paused, Asher looked into the passenger side mirror then the one closest to him on the driver side with rising suspicion and unusual paranoia - like he expected to see someone staring him down, but there wasn't anyone there.

Uneasily, he looked around, attempting to maintain a sense of casualness; if he was being observed, he didn't want to alarm the observers. Nodding a little, he glanced back in the rear view mirror to see a man with blond hair finish paying for his coffee and seemingly search for a seat. The features of the man obscured by the glare on the store's window, Asher couldn't identify anything about him - nothing concrete at least. With a sigh and shaking his head he reached for the door's latch and stepped out of the car and was immediately assaulted by several distinct scents that made him slow as he turned to thought.

The first was of a man, or what one should smell like, but it was strange in that it was something he could recognize as a person. Asher knew his senses were sharpened at other times, namely ones under the full moon, but this was different. Almost panicked, he looked at his watch hastily; hands still very human, and the hour still quite early, this entire morning was off. The second was the woman, followed by her smoke, the latter of which was the most normal of things as people smoked all the time, as much as Asher didn't approve. But both of these people, just like how they caught his eye, caught his nose as well and raised a sense of alertness in him; like several great predators had stumbled on to each other at the same kill and were, as of now, not yet aware of the others' presence.

Palm on the door with the other in his pocket, Asher shut the car and locked it before turning to face the coffee shop; its dull purple and yellow color scheme having faded slightly in the sunlight, mixing in with the paleness of its tertiary white color. With one last look around, he noted the world was going on, with or without him and his paranoia, but he couldn't shake the feeling - not this time. This was different... very different.

Opening the door, he entered, not recognizing the man he saw earlier now sat in a corner table by himself as he headed toward the line. Now behind the woman in purple, Asher's suspicions never eased, and as he looked around he noted that the world was still going full steam ahead on normalcy; that not for a moment did anyone suspect anything. Trying to gather his surroundings, Asher noted the man paying at the counter was in uniform with a sidearm on his hip - a triangular black, gold and blue patch on his tan shirt sleeve with a golden star affixed to his chest; a deputy. The killer in Asher wasn't afraid - he did what he had to - but the man that was Asher, very much was. Wanting the deputy to be leaving as soon as remotely possible, Asher composed himself as best he could, beginning to listen in to the sounds that filled the air.

A television in the background featured a reporter rambling about an armed man found dead in an alley after what appeared to be a large animal attack; a single shot having been discharged from the weapon. Looking down, Asher realized he had subconsciously been touching his most recent scar, and proceeded on to try and mask his behavior by straightening his dress shirt as the line moved along; the strange woman in purple ahead of him clicking as she took another step in her heels on the tiled floor.

Looking the woman over briefly, she seemed momentarily lapsed in concentration - like she had some sort of flash or revelation. It was subtle, but at the same time Asher had grown increasingly successful at reading body language; that, in a way, it was a second tongue - one he didn't understand or want. It wasn't meant for him... he shouldn't know, as he shouldn't, in all actuality... be. Noting her attention returning, his eyes, and focus turned away and toward the coffee selection.

Jacob decided that he was making everything up. There wasn't anything different, about any of this. People were people, you know? He brought his coffee to his lips, and looked up, and catching the woman entering. Dark purple. Bow. Heels. Jacob choked on his coffee, coughing as he tried to drink. She wasn't normal. He cleaned the coffee up, trying to avoid attention, and kept stealing glances at her. He could not explain the feeling. He felt like he knew her darkest secrets, somewhere deep in his brain, but they were locked up. He didn't understand why he was panicking, and set down his coffee with shaking hands. Jacob ran his hands through his hair, and took a deep breath, looking around the shop. No one was paying any attention to him, they didn't seem to notice him as he felt his mind unraveling. "Is this Schizophrenia?" he thought to himself. It had to be, it was the only rationale explanation. He was just going crazy. He needed to leave

Jacob took a deep breath, and stood up, intent on returning to normalcy. He drank down the last bit of coffee, and turned towards the door. He felt normal, as he took his first step. Simultaneously, the man with the tie walked in. Jacob's hair stood up on his neck, and quickly, a bead of cold sweat ran down his back. He wasn't moving, as his nostrils filled with the ever familiar scent. He couldn't put his finger on it. It was like smelling your favorite food, or cologne; something you've always known, but if you forgot the name of it when you tried to assign it to the scent. He knew what Asher was, in the second he walked in. The woman, August, was new and terrifying to him, a completely alien being wearing the skin of a human. Asher was familiar.

Jacob realized he was standing still in the coffee shop, and what may have been a two second long revelation, felt like eternity to him. He forced his feet forward, with his eyes locked on Asher. He threw away his coffee cup, and quickly scanned the room. No one seemed to notice his alien behavior. Or if they did, they were adept at hiding it. Jacob's eyes flicked back and forth between the woman in purple, and the man in the tie. What were the odds that he never met another afflicted person before, and now he found two.

Jacob had to get closer, and his more wolf like instincts started to override. He would circle from behind. Somewhere deep in his gut he wished for a pack to help him circle. He reached into his back pocket, and pulled out his wallet, taking a 5 dollar bill out. He flicked his wrist, throwing it on the ground, near Asher's feet, and behind. The coffee shop went on living their lives, ignoring the lunatic approaching the man in line. Jacob stepped up into Asher and August's peripheral vision, and bent down, picking up the money. He stood up, and tapped Asher on the shoulder. He felt a static shock as he did it.

"Um, excuse me, Sir? Ma'am? Did either of you drop this?" he asked, looking them in the eyes. When Asher made eye contact, Jacob was certain they were the same. He saw the beast within, the predator. And more anger. He felt his own creature stir, as he knew Asher was appraising him. A threat level index. "We're alike." Jacob said, absentmindedly, only audible to August and Asher. Jacob turned and looked August in the eyes, and saw nothing familiar to him, a different being entirely.

Jacob swallowed audibly, and stepped back, certain now, that he was insane. He had to have made this all up. There was no logical explanation. He turned and quickly walked outside and to his car, almost ready to break out into a run at any moment, trying to get away from the situation.

She was still waiting in line when someone else came into the shop, standing behind her. The presence which had declared itself to the shapeshifter had now become much stronger and while August couldn't make any gurantees, she figured that the new patron was the source... or at least one of them. The mundane world around her started to become more of an abstract thought as the very idea of other creatures of the night became a reality. The woman took a deep breath and tried to ignore the sensation that was starting to obstruct her focus.

Just order some coffee and leave, August thought to herself. Even if her suspicions were correct, which August was almost certain of, there was a part of her that didn't want to give up the normalcy she had fabricated in her life. There was a chance that she could find others with a gift like hers or maybe even learn more about the ability. Still, she was afraid that she would never be able to turn back if she got involved now.

However, within a moment's notice all the pieces fell together and it was like her fate was sealed. It was like her fate had been decided. A man who was sitting at one of the tables had stood and walked up to August and the man behind her. August wasn't paying attention at first but he had suddenly began talking, asking about some money that was dropped on the ground. August knew she hadn't dropped it but when he had asked, she turned and gave her full attention.

The man only said two more words before leaving. It was these two words which made August decide to investigate further. It was obvious that the feelings which were being fiven off within the coffee shop weren't just noticeable to August and the stranger had some how traced it back to her or the other man in line.

August watched the man leave the shop and instead of waiting any longer, she dropped the notion of going about a normal day and followed in pursuit. She didn't know where this small adventure was going to take her but August knew that she couldn't just give up. There was a distinct feeling in her gut which drove her to follow the man. Whether the other man who gave off a strong presence was going to get involved or not didn't concern her.

Moving at as swift of a pace that she could manage in heels, August tried to catch up with Jacob. The shapeshifter was out of the coffee shop and onto the street she shouted, "Hey, wait! Who the fuck are you!?". She was never much of a poet and figured the simple phrase would at the very least catch the man's attention.

She hoped he would stop dead in his tracks and explain.

"Um, excuse me, Sir? Ma'am? Did either of you drop this?"

Asher had heard the man approach from behind, but initially assumed nothing; the place was busy enough as is, and he felt he was acting suspicious enough - now wasn't the time to be glancing around hastily, looking like a man who had got away with murder, as much as that was the truth. The plan changed slightly as he felt a finger tap his shoulder and a short zap of static. Turning to face the individual - with whom the voice accompanied - Asher locked eyes with the other man, the blond one who had stared out the window earlier. The world, for what felt like an extended period, stopped and Asher had no immediate reaction appear on his face; his surprise, concern, and even his hostility was repressed, giving him an almost blank, uncaring, perhaps even annoyed look. That expression did not last long, and as Asher's eyes blinked again, he swallowed while his mouth turned dry.

What spurred all of this? No one thing, but a myriad instead followed by the man's low toned reply which was intentionally for the three of them. Just looking at the blond man gave him a chill like he had met eyes with an enemy - that something instinctually told him of danger, but was unclear as to what. Asher had no time to process all of what was transpiring as the two men, and now the woman as well, became more aware of each other's presence, particularly not when the strange man spoke:

"We're alike."

The level of casualness this man spoke with unsettled Asher Tybalt, who immediately assumed this man knew far more than he did. Worried, largely because of his uncontrolled paranoia and penchant for poorly managing interaction, Asher's eyes shot to the corner as the woman beside him reacted strangely as well. Just what was going on was unknown to Asher in that time, but he caught her first reaction to the strange man which was an apparent mixture of focus and irritation - especially as the man preformed a turn away from them both and proceeded, hurriedly, out toward the parking lot. By this time, Asher was beginning his reply as he looked back toward the man, yet noted the other was already leaving and the woman beside him was taking her first step in pursuit.

Time seemed to be moving slow, but no other patrons cared or really invested themselves about the man, and now the woman, who had abruptly left.

Realizing now wasn't the time to try and ignore this strange turn of events, Asher's courage was a bit more present than normal; it was more the curiosity in him as to who this man, as well as the woman, was, and why he had approached him so strangely. He couldn't know, could he? How would one even be aware of that? Yet... There was a strange familiarity to the other man, less so for the woman in purple, and as Asher stepped out of the line and followed as hastily as he could without drawing too much focus; he noticed a few people pay minor attention to him - more so to the entire event of the three hurriedly leaving - but all in all, no one seemed to care... No one but Asher, August and Jacob that was.

Marching out from the store and into the street, the woman yelled with frustration - Asher, just now having exited, could easily make out her exclamation as she directed it toward the blond man who was now beside a car, presumably his.

"Hey, wait! Who the fuck are you!?"

Nervous, Asher attempted to blend better with the situation by placing his coat on and allowing the first car to pass as the woman stood in the center isle of the lane. Following that, he hurried across to her side, passing by her; he was not about to let this man's almost cryptic but strikingly applicable statement just go unnoticed. Issuing an apology in the form of "Uh... excuse me.", he stepped by the woman in purple and across the road with remarkable timing - passing behind a car as it made its way across the street. So close he could nearly skim the paint of its surface with his dress coat in the subtle breeze, he stepped on to the concrete again from the asphalt and slowed from his more rushed pace.

"Uh, sir - just wait. Just a minute!"

Showing his palms he shrugged slightly, trying to appear less threatening, as the man beside his car - the same who spoke to him and the woman in purple - appeared nervous, almost menaced by the situation; like there was too much going on at once. Not knowing what to say, let alone do, Asher defaulted to how he approached his boss and most co-workers; as timid as possible and attempting to be far from intrusive. It was a habit, a bad one at that, as his personality did not truly meld well with his actual nature; like fire and water these two components of his being would clash, at times violently as the news had shown that morning.

Jacob heard the demand to halt, and did, in fact, stop. He turned around, and turned to be face to face with Asher. He looked at August, and back as Asher. He decided he would address Asher alone, and August separately when she arrived. Asher had his hands open, in a non-threatening manner, but Jacob's were balled into fists, as he continued to feel cornered.

Jacob spoke quickly to Asher, and brought his hand up, running it through his hair. "Okay, listen. This is going to sound crazy, I know. But. Well, see. How do I put this?" Jacob's mind was a mile ahead of his mouth. "I'm a fuckin' werewolf man. Alright? Tell anyone that, and they call the police, and have them send me to the shrink. You know? But you get within a mile of me, and I just get this feeling man. You're like me. Right?" Jacob said this last part, almost pleading for validation. "I'm not sayin' you're a wolf too, cause you know, you don't smell like one, but you're like me man. Light of the full moon, body of the animal, and shit, right?" Jacob put his hands on his hips, and looked at the ground, and laughed. "Man thats so weird to say."

By now, and after any quick words Asher may have had, August showed up, and Jacob looked at her. "You. I don't know what you are. But I can tell. I can tell you're not like these normal Joe Schmoes walking around. You're different. But I get this body snatcher, alien from the void feel from you, and it scares me." Jacob said. He stared at them both for a few minutes. "I don't even know why I went to this coffee shop, alright? I don't even like their coffee much. Tastes like brewed shit. But here I am, thinking I'm the only guy in the world like this. And I run into both of you? Is this fate?" Jacob asked.

Jacob looked at them both. "Does this scare you too? Do you guys understand whats going on?" He asked, again, almost pleading for understanding and clarity.

The strange man stopped, surprisingly enough as Asher approached at a slower more docile pace; the man on the other hand was far from relaxed, and his hands tightly balled into fists and his eyes seemed to shift almost hysterically between Asher and the woman in the purple dress. It was as if the man seemed cornered - that look in his eyes, that wild, wild look. It was animal, easily, a mixture of confusion and borderline panic that wanted to tread toward fight or flight, restrained only by the man's obvious awareness of his situation. For Asher Tybalt these traits were alarming, and before the man before him even so much as spoke, Asher tried to calm him down for his own sake, as he himself did not deal with rampant - especially fearful - emotion well in the slightest.

"I just need to make sure you're alright, you - "

Asher began but the man interrupted; starting to ramble in a surprisingly coherent yet deeply alarming display while running his fingers through his hair and walking about a few paces back and forth. Asher, taken back by the words, had nothing to say - at least not immediately as the words settled within his ears and then his mind.

"Okay, listen. This is going to sound crazy, I know. But. Well, see. How do I put this?"

At first this appeared survivable, but the strange young man's words quickly deteriorated Asher's confidence as they spiraled out of apparent control with the following;

"I'm a fuckin' werewolf man. Alright? Tell anyone that, and they call the police, and have them send me to the shrink. You know? But you get within a mile of me, and I just get this feeling man. You're like me. Right? I'm not sayin' you're a wolf too, cause you know, you don't smell like one, but you're like me man. Light of the full moon, body of the animal, and shit, right?"

It was in that moment that Asher found himself on the same sort of precipice this man was earlier; flight or fight, but for Asher he knew one was undoubtedly going to have a more morbid outcome and the other was just going to arouse suspicion. Blown away was he by this, he remained where he was by the rear of the man's car for at least a few steady heartbeats before he reacted; what in the entirety of the world could he say to that? It was if this other man knew too much about him, but it wasn't even possible - it needed to be coincidence; there couldn't just be more like him, even if they were so different like this man who had approached him in the coffee shop.

Unaware that no matter how he was likely to approach the situation it would make no impact, Asher paused and tried to regain composure, shifting uneasily - suspiciously - in his business shirt and standing a bit more straight all the while changing his expression, he did his best to issue a reasonable, logical, "normal" response. His intent was not to, well, confirm the man's suspicions (as gravely accurate as they were), but to instead try and continue the charade he had worked so hard to live for a life time; a sense of normalcy... as much as a born ailuranthrope could have.

"I, uhm," Asher paused, trying to grasp and clutch for words in his reply, "Listen, I can call nine-one-one and see if they can - "

The "werewolf" started again, now starting to try Asher's patience which was already worn thin out of fear and concern for self. Trying not to escalate the situation, Asher stopped him after he began pleading for some sort of understanding from them both. In all truth Asher was torn between breaking into a complete dissertation about the man's "insanity", despite its reality, and simply trying to calm him down. Again trying for the latter, he stepped in, hands still open and trying to settle the issue.

"I think you're just a little stressed out - we can talk about this, okay? Let me first just get someone that can, uh... help with that, like the emergency responders or police, alright?"

To Jacob's eyes Asher was clearly playing games - this was an obvious facade and anyone in "the know" of the zoanthrope world who could "feel" the presence of another would know better about what he was doing. This was... different however, as Asher seemed to be trying to convince himself at the same time as to what he was saying was heartfelt and true, but his expressions alone betrayed him; their subtle hints of inner disbelief were fairly damning.

Asher was clearly either afraid of admitting the truth or was doing his best to cover it up.

Jacob looked at the man as he played it off. He was trying to play it off, as he stumbled through the conversation. But Jacob knew. He was never more certain of anything in his life. He was lucid, clear. He wanted to think he was crazy, but he knew he wasn't. Jacob looked into the man's eyes, and saw fear, or something close to it. He wasn't going to admit it, not out loud, not in public.

"I think you're just a little stressed out - we can talk about this, okay? Let me first just get someone that can, uh... help with that, like the emergency responders or police, alright?"

Jacob sucked his teeth, making a loud "tsk" noise. "Uhm, you know what man," he started. "I'm going to be late for work. So...uh. I'm just going to go" He finished. He put his hands on his hips, and nodded a few times, looking at the ground, with his brow furrowed. "I'm going to go to work. I guess we can pretend we never met, if you wanna keep this up" he muttered. Jacob felt cornered, more or less. Not in any actual danger, but that the onset of it was a few missteps away.

He looked around for a few more seconds, realizing the other girl, the one that has confused him more was gone. He figured she had run off too, hiding whatever inner truth was waiting to be discovered from this meeting. Jacob had never asked the man's name, and had never given his. He pulled out his car keys and unlocked his car. "I work at Yancy's. The department store? Its on 52nd and Bell. If you want to talk about.... your condition. I'll be there until 6 pm. If you don't, well, I guess forget we had this conversation." He said.

With that Jacob turned, and got in his car, starting it and driving off without giving Asher another look. Music flowed through the Jetta as he drove, thinking about the events.
I'm like must not sleep, must warn others. Trust blocks creep where the dust storm hovers. Jacob thought the man would come around, but even if he didn't, it didn't really affect him. He would just return to his carefully constructed life. He would go to work. Change once a month. Go to work. Change once a month. Go to work. and into infinity the cycle would go. I'm tryin' to walk on top of sunshine but it's ridiculous at times. that's why I'm touring with this warning. Jacob eventually reached work with a lot of the events of the morning pushed into the back of his memory.

Jacob got out his car, plodded across the parking lot, donning his green vest over his shirt. He walked in, clocked in, and went about his daily chores, restocking shelves and putting tags on merchandise. If and when Asher showed up, he would find jacob folding shirts and placing them on the display shelves to be destroyed in seconds by people searching for their appropriate sizes.

"No, I don't know what."

That was the first, most reasonable response Asher could manage to issue as the man spoke, but it was as condemning as anything else Asher had said or done that made him suspicious. Just the sheer speed and certainty he replied with only would likely prove to confirm Jacob's creeping suspicions - if they weren't already concrete enough for him to say, beyond a doubt, that the other man in front of him in the parking lot was anything but human. To Asher however, his denial was adamant and he was fearful to get involved much further, let alone seemingly agree with the "rambling, crazed man" as he would later mull over. The worst part was, as mad and irrational as the other man sounded, Asher knew he wasn't wrong, and that alone? That... well, it struck him harder than much of anything else, and the fact another individual could sense it added only more pressure.

"I'm going to be late for work. So...uh. I'm just going to go."

"You should see a doctor, or -"

Was all he managed to reply as the man carried on, his attention anchored to the ground as he set his hands on his hips, adding after;

"I'm going to go to work. I guess we can pretend we never met, if you wanna keep this up."

Doing his best to listen, and for the moment hold his tongue, lest he either prove challenging to the man - who Asher could sense anxiety from, just as Jacob could from Asher - or prove too meek. Either way, both options were equally bad; either the man in the suit trying to talk to the other who had been so hurriedly speaking was going to instigate an incident, or he was going to let one transpire later on down the road... both were bad choices, and both he readily feared.

Asher's eyes fixated on one of the man's hands as he reached into a pocket; it was in that moment his heart skipped a beat, as just a few hours prior it seemed another man had taken a very similar action, and found himself meeting a violent demise. One that was bad enough that not only did the crime scene investigators have little to understand, they had little solid proof - at least for the time being. All in all, they'd could to believe a tiger was on the loose, and to some extent that was entirely true, just not the kind they imagined, let alone could fathom.

But now?

Now Asher Tybalt's heart started again as the man drew out a pair of car keys and issued his parting remarks before departing as swiftly as he had appeared, leaving Asher - and the woman in purple - where they were. Or so Asher believed...

Turning about to see the woman's reaction, he realized, startlingly so, that she had seemingly vanished into thin air, which was a tremendous oddity all it's own; people didn't just disappear, but then again, could she? Perhaps that was the feeling he got from her, but it didn't seem to match or align well, as she had an almost animal tempo; an underlying presence. Yet she was gone without a trace, and as Asher's shoes ground against the asphalt, he looked around in confusion and found himself alone again on that early morning - the world around him kept going, as if no one had noticed or cared about the events that transpired. Sighing with relief, he too reached into his pocket and withdrew his car keys, running the grooved edge between his fingers and examining the metal before walking slowly toward his car.

Approaching the door, he laid a hand upon the handle and inserted the key. With a gentle rotation the door opened and he proved to sit down in his small car only to look back into the rear view mirror. His eyes narrowing, he noticed he was already slightly disheveled - strange, as no real altercation took place. Adjusting his tie, running the knot back closer to his neck and throwing his coat in the seat beside him, he turned the ignition and prepared to leave this strange event behind him.

Or so he wished he did.

---

Asher Tybalt
Approximately Ten Hours Later

Attentive eyes fixated on faintly illuminated blue digits, they seemed not to blink for an eternity - or at least what felt like it. It was one of those rare moments where staring at the clock one didn't feel all that purposeful; it was all just a blur of numbers that never seemed to increase. Hanging there as they were, the driver of the vehicle remained just as tense in body as he did in stare with a blank, perhaps expressionless manner to his face - his mind far, far away.

It was one of those times he was remembering a lot more than he cared to, and trying to rationalize it all. He had to, at least for his sake right now.

This other man, whoever he was, broke a lot of that rationalization and false confidence he had given himself - it was as if he couldn't pretend anymore; that the world he knew was alright, and that everyone but him in it was as well. Previously it was only him - that one individual with a problem - but now, now someone else not only knew but was so casually confident and concerned? Right now, these few hours he sat here in his idling car, he needed to steady his response and consciousness on the matter. It was of such great concern that it hovered about him the entire day; for the first day in many he had hardly accomplished any work. His "condition" was what concerned him, but what concerned him even more, to the point of distraction, was that someone else knew.

It was now he relaxed, with a deep breath and closing of his eyes, hands now resting on the steering wheel rather than tightly grasped; the time rolled around to a quarter to six. Removing them from the wheel, car parked in the back of the lot, he rubbed his eyes slowly before adjusting his tie. Ceasing after a few prolonged moments, he glanced to his left, blinking and sighing; the familiar car of the man from earlier remained there.

Asher wasn't about to walk into a crowded store in this scenario - that was the last thing he needed.