Winter in the city was always so depressing it seemed. Everything had a grey rather steely Quality to it, from the crushed rock salt coding all of the cars to the snow that had turned into slush And soaked through the careless trespassers' socks. Even the sky looked grey With an over cast of clouds clinging to it and threatening to start snowing at any moment. People hurried down the sidewalks, Shoulders hunched in and dark clothing blending them into one Never-ending mass, only adding to the gray atmosphere that hung thick Over everything.
But then, like a fish swimming to the surface of murky water, a splash Of color appeared, coming in the form of a bright blue knitted hat. Only adding to the effect was the fact that a rather tall man was wearing it, making the hat stand out among the crowd by a handful of inches. The man himself was mild in comparison to his head adornment however, With average pleasant features that didn't make him immediately stand out, while still managing to come off as somewhat handsome. Like everyone else, he Was wearing a dark coat, dark gray wool That came down to the tops of his calves, Underneath of which was a bright white button up shirt. This was carefully tucked Into a pair of neatly pressed black slacks. Simple, durable Black shoes finished the ensemble, obviously chosen to cope with the weather rather then be fashionable. But unlike everyone else, he actually seemed to be comfortable with the snow, even if his expression was slightly dark.
Joseph Grant, As the man was known, Was in and Of himself an anomaly. That was part in Parcel something that came along with being a werewolf, he supposed.
He had once been like the people walking around him, weak, Oblivious by choice or design to the supernatural world, and completely human. He had had a family once, had just started to get his first grey hairs and had begun to develop laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. But then his own naivety had been shattered when he and his family had been attacked. He, his wife, and his three young children had gone on a hike, enjoying some time away from the city out in the wilderness. He hadn't seen where the werewolf had come from initially, But it had killed the youngest of his children before he had had the chance to react. A Walkingstick and a rock. That was what he had been able to use to break several of the creature's bones, horrified by the strength and sheer impossibility of refusing to die under the attacks the beast showed. Eventually, he had had the opportunity to retrieve a knife from his bag, The creature's clause having ripped through the fabric and spilling the contents across the ground. He hadn't known then that the silver coating the blade was the ultimate factor that had saved his life. His family dead around him, the rogue werewolf having long since run away, Joseph had lain in the dirt awaiting his own death, an arm pressed over his stomach where it had been ripped open. He hadn't been able to save them and he welcomed death.
Only he didn't die. Joseph had eventually woken up in a bed that was placed in a room with bars across the high Windows and bars where a door should have been. Two men were there, waiting for him to wake up. They explained to him what he had become, tried to impress upon him the changes that he had gone through. At first, he hadn't believed them. Until one of the men changed into a wolf before his eyes.
Joseph had quickly discovered that he had been picked up by some members of the local werewolf pack and the Alpha intended to bring him into the "family", As he called it. And he had spent the last 80 years within his new family, learning how to control and become one with his wolf, keeping the secret of his existence.
Recently, that secret had begun to change. After years of counseling and debating, the elders of his kind had agreed, along with some of the other supernatural creatures that lived in the world, that it would be better for their survival if some of their numbers came out to the public. Human technology and science was progressing to the point where it was becoming near impossible for the supernatural world to stay hidden for much longer. If they preemptively came out, this would hopefully be a sign of nonaggression to the human population. They wouldn't all come out at once, no. The werewolves would reveal themselves first. Some secrets still had to be kept after all. But those of higher power carefully selected those beneath them to be The front of the revelation, the face of the species. Joseph hadn't really expected to be one of those chosen. But his Alpha had come to him, informing him that there was a special assignment that needed to be done, something that would form positive relations with the humans, and for some reason, Joseph was the chosen candidate. He hadn't been happy with it, but there wasn't much arguing when your Alpha gave a direct order.
He had, he found out, the unpleasant task of not working alone. Some other poor soul had also been recruited for the assignment. But Joseph hadn't been given very many details about who this would be. All he knew was that they would be someone sent by the FBI. He hadn’t even gotten a name. Because of the lack of information, he had chosen to wear a distinctive hat, making himself purposefully stand out so that the other person coming on this investigation could find him, Informing his Alpha that he would be doing so. And then he had gotten on the plane that had taken him to this snowy city.
Now, standing in the middle of Central Square and blinking up at the oppressing looking clouds overhead, pushing back the memories that had surfaced, Joseph Cradled a large cup of hot chocolate in his hands as he waited for his partner to arrive so that they could discuss their upcoming assignment. The heat That radiated through the plastic cup to his fingers felt nice as he shifted his weight Back onto his heels as he Waited, carefully scanning the crowd of faces that ever changed around him for a glint Of recognition that would come to his chosen partner's eyes. He Would quietly sip At the sweet creamy liquid and offer intense stares to those who showed far too much interest in him and most likely his hat without the acknowledgment of Understanding of Who he actually was. At that point, they would either walk away rather hastily, casting nervous glances over their shoulders, or Return his stare With a slightly unsure And rather dazed Expression, walking away with puzzlement Afterwards. It Didn't bother him in the slightest. Shrugging His broad shoulders with a small rustle of silk lining, his light blue gaze Continued to sweep over the faces.
But then, like a fish swimming to the surface of murky water, a splash Of color appeared, coming in the form of a bright blue knitted hat. Only adding to the effect was the fact that a rather tall man was wearing it, making the hat stand out among the crowd by a handful of inches. The man himself was mild in comparison to his head adornment however, With average pleasant features that didn't make him immediately stand out, while still managing to come off as somewhat handsome. Like everyone else, he Was wearing a dark coat, dark gray wool That came down to the tops of his calves, Underneath of which was a bright white button up shirt. This was carefully tucked Into a pair of neatly pressed black slacks. Simple, durable Black shoes finished the ensemble, obviously chosen to cope with the weather rather then be fashionable. But unlike everyone else, he actually seemed to be comfortable with the snow, even if his expression was slightly dark.
Joseph Grant, As the man was known, Was in and Of himself an anomaly. That was part in Parcel something that came along with being a werewolf, he supposed.
He had once been like the people walking around him, weak, Oblivious by choice or design to the supernatural world, and completely human. He had had a family once, had just started to get his first grey hairs and had begun to develop laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. But then his own naivety had been shattered when he and his family had been attacked. He, his wife, and his three young children had gone on a hike, enjoying some time away from the city out in the wilderness. He hadn't seen where the werewolf had come from initially, But it had killed the youngest of his children before he had had the chance to react. A Walkingstick and a rock. That was what he had been able to use to break several of the creature's bones, horrified by the strength and sheer impossibility of refusing to die under the attacks the beast showed. Eventually, he had had the opportunity to retrieve a knife from his bag, The creature's clause having ripped through the fabric and spilling the contents across the ground. He hadn't known then that the silver coating the blade was the ultimate factor that had saved his life. His family dead around him, the rogue werewolf having long since run away, Joseph had lain in the dirt awaiting his own death, an arm pressed over his stomach where it had been ripped open. He hadn't been able to save them and he welcomed death.
Only he didn't die. Joseph had eventually woken up in a bed that was placed in a room with bars across the high Windows and bars where a door should have been. Two men were there, waiting for him to wake up. They explained to him what he had become, tried to impress upon him the changes that he had gone through. At first, he hadn't believed them. Until one of the men changed into a wolf before his eyes.
Joseph had quickly discovered that he had been picked up by some members of the local werewolf pack and the Alpha intended to bring him into the "family", As he called it. And he had spent the last 80 years within his new family, learning how to control and become one with his wolf, keeping the secret of his existence.
Recently, that secret had begun to change. After years of counseling and debating, the elders of his kind had agreed, along with some of the other supernatural creatures that lived in the world, that it would be better for their survival if some of their numbers came out to the public. Human technology and science was progressing to the point where it was becoming near impossible for the supernatural world to stay hidden for much longer. If they preemptively came out, this would hopefully be a sign of nonaggression to the human population. They wouldn't all come out at once, no. The werewolves would reveal themselves first. Some secrets still had to be kept after all. But those of higher power carefully selected those beneath them to be The front of the revelation, the face of the species. Joseph hadn't really expected to be one of those chosen. But his Alpha had come to him, informing him that there was a special assignment that needed to be done, something that would form positive relations with the humans, and for some reason, Joseph was the chosen candidate. He hadn't been happy with it, but there wasn't much arguing when your Alpha gave a direct order.
He had, he found out, the unpleasant task of not working alone. Some other poor soul had also been recruited for the assignment. But Joseph hadn't been given very many details about who this would be. All he knew was that they would be someone sent by the FBI. He hadn’t even gotten a name. Because of the lack of information, he had chosen to wear a distinctive hat, making himself purposefully stand out so that the other person coming on this investigation could find him, Informing his Alpha that he would be doing so. And then he had gotten on the plane that had taken him to this snowy city.
Now, standing in the middle of Central Square and blinking up at the oppressing looking clouds overhead, pushing back the memories that had surfaced, Joseph Cradled a large cup of hot chocolate in his hands as he waited for his partner to arrive so that they could discuss their upcoming assignment. The heat That radiated through the plastic cup to his fingers felt nice as he shifted his weight Back onto his heels as he Waited, carefully scanning the crowd of faces that ever changed around him for a glint Of recognition that would come to his chosen partner's eyes. He Would quietly sip At the sweet creamy liquid and offer intense stares to those who showed far too much interest in him and most likely his hat without the acknowledgment of Understanding of Who he actually was. At that point, they would either walk away rather hastily, casting nervous glances over their shoulders, or Return his stare With a slightly unsure And rather dazed Expression, walking away with puzzlement Afterwards. It Didn't bother him in the slightest. Shrugging His broad shoulders with a small rustle of silk lining, his light blue gaze Continued to sweep over the faces.
