I tried to be like everyone
Open my soul
But what I had to give
Resulted loathing

@meridian

Warm. The soup was warm, with steam rising from the bowl in his hands. He held it tight, eyes closed and trying to ignore whatever was going on around him while remaining wary. He had sought out the most distant corner of the diner where nobody was nearby, but it was about lunchtime, and even with the little experience he had of eating in public places, he knew that it would get more crowded. But he would hopefully be finished by then, he really didn’t like being around too many humans. At least there were other werewolves here, that made it just bearable enough to stay even if these werewolves were far too human. The important thing was that he could eat here. Not that he hadn’t eaten over the last few weeks, but it hadn’t been anything that a human would touch - or so Lycaon guessed. He had mostly lived on roots and raw meat (it wasn’t that difficult to stun a deer and then slit its throat) while he had been traversing the wilderness, looking for Mudbloods. He really didn’t get why they were called like that, they didn’t smell any different from the other humans. But that wasn’t his business, wizards could have whatever weird distinctions between themselves that they liked as long as they left him alive. Or even gave him money for these Mudbloods. It was the only legal way he could think of to get to a Galleon or two, and without these, no human would offer anything edible.

Though he wouldn’t be able to afford cooked food as often as he had during the last half year - not that it was something he had frequently even then. But now the Mudbloods… he shouldn’t think about the weird name, he hadn’t understood the explanation the first time, so why should he understand it all of a sudden twenty years later? He was indifferent at best, hostile at worst, towards humans, so there was no reason for him to overthink their strange behaviour. These Mudbloods were getting fewer and fewer, at least those who tried to survive in the wilds. He had spent so many days up north without finding the smallest trace of humans outside of their natural habitat. He didn’t know how much longer he would have born the cold up. It had been pure luck that he had stumbled across that man last evening. He hadn’t even been properly looking as he was still feeling ill from the transformation. But then that man had suddenly stood before him and looked so panicky… At least his instinct had sufficed to Stun the man, ascertain that he was among those the Ministry wanted hunted down, and to bring the man to the Ministry this morning. How he had managed, Lycaon wasn’t quite sure, his body was hurting everywhere. It had been one of the worst transformation he could remember, though considering that they got more painful with age, the memory might be soon supplanted by new ones. His bones hurt every evening upon waking up, and sometimes the pain hadn’t left even in the morning. There weren’t that many werewolves his age left that he could talk to - even less after the hunts of the Ministry - so he wasn’t sure whether he was somehow sick or whether that was just normal. But he supposed the latter. As long as everything was normal, he didn’t need to think about it. Though it was hard to forget a pain that was constantly there.

All the sadder that without Mudbloods he would have no money and therefore no soup to warm his smarting hands. Because the warmth did help. A little. But a little had to be enough for him. And once the liquid was in his stomach, he hoped that he would feel better. He would eat something more nourishing, but he had never really figured out how to use a fork, and he hated to look like an imbecile. Soup could be eaten with bread. And he could handle bread. An unexpected sound made him freeze. Someone was coming nearer. A human. That much he could tell without looking up. He frowned, hoping that… she, it was a woman if he interpreted the footsteps correctly, would quickly go elsewhere. Despite the many humans, the diner was comfortable after the never-ending cold. He didn’t want to be told to leave, and that was according to his experience the only object that someone approaching him could have.

WOLF AND RAVEN

OUTFIT | TW - thoughts of miscarriage

It hadn't been too long ago that they had returned from their trip, and already Meridian missed it. Eli had surprised her with a month-long trip to her favorite places--Fiji, and Thailand, and India. It had been exactly what she needed, and the fact that her husband had known that was not a surprise to her. He knew her better than anyone else did. He knew when she needed out, when she needed a break… sometimes he knew it before she did. But this time around, Meridian thought that it had been a little obvious. After what had happened, she needed to take her mind off of everything else for a while. This was the second time that it had happened, the second time that she had lost a baby. It wasn't as if she had ever really wanted one. She hadn't. Children had never been in the plan for her and Eli. It just wasn't what they wanted or needed. With what they did for a living, there was no room for a baby. If she got pregnant, she'd have to stay home and that would drive her batty, but they wouldn't want to risk anything happening to said baby. After all, even if she had never wanted a child, she didn't think she would have given one up once it existed. Adjustments would have to have been made, and she liked their life. She didn't want to change anything.

But that didn't make it any easier to know that the baby didn't exist anymore. It hadn't made going to St. Mungo's any easier. She had gone by herself, of course, because Eli wasn't about hospitals. They avoided them whenever possible. There was just no avoiding them this time around. She had needed something that they couldn't do on their own, and something that they couldn't get someone else to do. That had been… something she'd needed the hospital for, and she wasn't going to subject Eli to that, so she had gone on her own. Honestly, she didn't know if that had made it harder or easier. A part of her had wanted him there, and a part of her had been glad that she had gone by herself. It was easier to be upset when there wasn't an audience. She wouldn't admit to crying, and by the time that she got home, there was no proof that she had. She could just move forward, and that was what she had been trying to do. It was just… mentally hard. Physically, she was fine. She had been fine only a couple of days after, but it had taken more of an emotional toll on her than it had last time.

Meridian thought that it was because there had been a reason last time. There had been something to blame. She had gotten into a situation with work and had gotten hurt. That was what had done it. This time around, there hadn't been any reason. It had just happened. She didn't think that she had done anything wrong, so there was no explanation. It had just… been something that she hadn't been able to stop. Meridian knew that it wasn't anyone's fault, but it certainly felt like hers. It was her body that had done it, after all. That was something that she was having difficulty getting past, and as much as she had tried to act like everything was back to normal, it seemed like Eli hadn't bought it. If he had thought that she was fine, he wouldn't have planned the vacation. He wouldn't have planned for them to take a month off of work to go traveling. That was a lot of time to leave work behind, and a long time to trust someone else to be in charge. He wouldn't have done that if he thought she was fine.

But the trip had helped. She did feel like things were getting back to normal, even if she missed the beaches and the warm weather already. Coming back to the cold of England wasn't great, when she had always preferred nice weather. But it was unavoidable. That was just England. She was as… bundled up as she tended to get, which wasn't very, as she headed into Knockturn Alley. The business that she had to attend to meant that she needed to keep a low profile. She was just looking for someone, scouting them out a little, and that meant that she needed to go to the diner in Knockturn Alley first. It was busier than she had expected, but that actually worked more in her advantage. She would be less likely to be noticed by her intended target if the place was packed, and she kept her eye out as she moved further into the diner. At the same moment that she saw who she was looking for, they'd decided to look up from their meal. Immediately, her gaze went to a man sitting alone at a table, and she moved to sit down across from him. "This seat isn't taken, is it?" She asked, smiling briefly, though she was fully seated before he could even think to answer.

In his youth, he had been told countless horror stories about old age. About how every bone would ache. How it got more and more difficult to deal with the full moon. How speed got lost. How much harder it was to get something to eat, because there would always be another, younger, stronger werewolf. There had been also some solidarity among them, but only where humans were concerned. They’d stand together against the outside world that wanted to hunt them down and kill them. That was how the world worked. Everyone hated them and was against them. This message was the core of everything he had been taught by whosoever felt at the moment like spending time with children. In his earliest memories, there had been something like hope on the horizon. The older ones spoke of a wizard who was different from the others. Who wanted to change the world and give them a better standing in society. It had been very vague how that was supposed to work, and even vaguer what was exactly expecting them in this better world. But he had been little, and all he knew that asking questions was more likely to lead to trouble than enlightenment. Nobody was supposed to ask questions, not as long as they had a leader who had actually met that wizard and was working for him.

Yet, that silver lining of a better life soon disappeared again. At about the time when he was an always hungry teenager, struggling to imitate those around him to survive, the news had crashed over their heads. That fabulous wizard was dead, and the werewolves considered to be scum as always. Their leader still had connections, and sometimes he went off to apparently talk to wizards, but he didn’t tell the rest of the pack anything — or at least not those who were ranked as lowly as he was. Life just continued with the steady struggle to find something to live off every day. There were a lot of werewolves assembling around Greyback, leading very often to arguments that ended with injuries. So many of them just weren’t meant to live together, so mostly they split in smaller groups leaving Greyback with only his most trusted few, every other month passing by to check whether there was anything they were supposed to be doing for their father — father meaning Greyback himself as he was the one who took them in once their human family abandoned them, or so they had been told, and as they were not supposed to ask questions, they were left with no choice but believe it.

The group of werewolves saved in this fashion by Greyback from their human families was rather large. Most of them were around his age, and therefore they’d tend to stick together. They had been a chaotic and wild group, getting through life by stealing wherever they could and not listening to the few older werewolves who sometimes tried to join them. But his group didn’t exist anymore. Many had been killed during that battle twenty years ago, and he knew of at least three who had been caught, experimented on, and killed during the Durant years. Apart from himself, there remained maybe two of those he had grown up with, and he only had ever seen one of them. Apparently, he was following in Greyback’s footsteps and kept close ties with the same sort of wizards, for he had been the one to tell him that Snatching was an option for them again. He supposed he was grateful for the information. It was a way to earn money legally, but it had also proven much more difficult now that he didn't work in a group anymore. Back then, he could leave dealing with these Mudbloods to those who enjoyed that. Now, whenever he was fortunate enough to come across one, he had to listen to threats and (worse) pleas and tears, and he hated it. He didn’t want to think about what he was doing. It was a job, it was money, and that was what mattered in the long run.

For those on the run, it was a shock to see him, and he could understand that. His outer aspect was enough for normal passers-by deciding to change the side of the street. He was used to it and expected it though it didn’t keep him from being angry at the humans for doing so. Still, it was what was normal, and therefore a woman sitting down at his table was very much not normal. It meant that something was off. That the other person was not what they seemed to be at first, and this was a reason to be very wary. Though, the reason that he was staring at the woman opposite him was less wariness than that he was still taken aback. He was not the most skilled and knowledgable where human manners were concerned, but he did know that Knockturn Alley was not the place to expect any. And yet, the woman’s nonchalance was disquieting him. He stared at her for a moment longer but then hastily lowered his eyes again, glaring at his food. He wished her anywhere else but felt that starting a fight with her was about the most foolish thing that he could do.

It wasn’t often that she had to do work like this on her own these days. There were people that could do the job just fine, and she normally chose to delegate scouting missions that were in the United Kingdom off of… just about anyone else. If it took her somewhere foreign, an island or something like that, then she didn’t mind too terribly. But doing this kind of work on their home turf was something that she liked to avoid when she could. There was a reason that they had built up their own organization. It was to have people to do some of the work, to have people to give assignments to. Eli was the one that let this up. She knew that he was the one that people technically looked to, and that was fine. Leadership was something that she had given to him a long time ago. Meridian was more than all right with the position that she held within the organization. People did listen to her when necessary, but she was fine with Eli calling the shots. In fact, she rather liked it. She thought he was hot when he was being controlling. Possessive too, but that was something else entirely.

The fact of the matter was, there wasn’t always a Walker to do their local work. It was why she was in Knockturn Alley today. She had volunteered to scout after the person in question. She was, after all, the best. It had been years but she would still always claim that she was the best that there was--she had nearly killed Eli, after all. The day that he had found her in his hotel room, and her plan to kill him had needed to be moved up, Meridian had been the one that had gotten the upper hand. She had been the one that gotten him on the ground, she was the one that had gotten a knife to his neck. There was no denying that she had been the one that would have come out of that situation alive. El liked to claim that he could have turned it around on her, but had decided that teaming up with her was the better option but Meridian didn’t fall for it. She’d had him. She could have killed him, and then she hadn’t. She certainly hadn’t thought that she would end up married to him, but still. She could have killed him that day.

And being the best sometimes meant that she did jobs like this to help out. It had been her, or asking Four Fingers and she didn’t quite feel like asking him. Meridian actually avoided that particular man at all costs, given what had happened last time. When someone was new to the organization, they either didn’t know or didn’t respect it as much that Meridian was Eli’s wife. One particular man that had gotten a little handsy with her incredibly poor timing--Mer had just been planning on breaking his wrist for touching her like that, but Eli had walked in first and had cut off four of his fingers. She thought that was a little dramatic of him, but it had proven a point. No one really tried to get handsy with her anymore, and new people were always told that story by someone or another. And now, she called the man in question Four Fingers. Not because he had lost four fingers, but because he technically only had four left--since thumbs didn’t count and all. He was still a Walker, just one that avoided her, which she supposed was understandable.

Meridian just tended to avoid him right back because it was a little awkward. He had had four fingers cut from his hand because he had touched her. That would be enough to make future encounters awkward. So she wasn’t going to ask him to scout for her. She would just have to do it herself, and that had been what had led her into Knockturn Alley--and more specifically, the Bitter Snake. It wasn’t a place that she would frequent if she could help it, but she couldn’t exactly help it today… so here she was. When the man in question had looked her way, her first instinct had her sitting down at an available table. The person that was sitting there had no response. He stared at her, and then looked down. Well then. She didn’t need him to make conservation. She just needed to sit here long enough for the person she was watching to return to the table he’d been at before. Then she could go on her merry way and leave this particular man alone, since that was clearly what he was interested in. In Knockturn Alley, though, she supposed she couldn’t be surprised by people being surly and unfriendly--it seemed to be the status quo.

Humans were a threat. It was the most important lesson that had been drilled into him ever since he could think. They wanted to hunt them down, one by one, and then kill them all. It had been like that not all too long ago, but now things were looking a little bit brighter. Nobody was payed by the state to chase them and use them as guinea pigs. It could change again any time, he never forgot that, but if he was being careful, he hoped that he'd notice before it was too late. Usually there was some sort of warning he heard from others. His network had been radically diminished over the years though, so he shouldn't rule out that he might be overconfident, judging from a situation that was no longer valid. Things were constantly changing, and it was usually not for the better. The opposite did happen of course. It had two autumns ago when life became considerably easier though he had waited for another couple of months before he began to somewhat trust that he was really safer. And a few moons later, he'd been told about the Snatching. He remembered from many years ago, and apparently they were supposed to hunt down the same sort of person again. It was confusing, human meant human for him and the differences they had among each other were incomprehensible to him. But then, there was no point in asking questions when the very real possibility of gaining money offered itself.

It was more difficult than back then. He had been with others, with those he could trust because he had grown up with them. They were the ones making decisions. They decided how to proceed. They did ask his advice of course. They knew each other's strengths and could distribute the tasks among each other so that they worked neatly together. They formed and reformed their groups, from time to time seeking out Greyback to check whether there were any new orders or whether he wanted to make new groups. They needed those who could find the Mudbloods (because despite their names, they couldn't be smelled out — it was a very misleading label) and then those who could control them and deliver them to the Ministry. And that latter part was nothing for him. He had never been much of a fighter. Many of those he had grown up with had been braver, more ready to run risks, more adventurous. He had preferred to remain a step behind. Maybe that was why they had all died while he still lived, either back then in that battle or during the Durant regime. It would be almost comical if it weren't so dark, but this name was maybe the only Minister of Magic he had ever known. He had no idea who was currently in charge of the humans, the magical humans to be more precise. What the Muggles were doing was none of his business though Muggles tended to be less dangerous. More ignorant. At least he had been told that they didn't believe in werewolves, and he guessed that was only good for him. But the magical world, there was something going on. There was always something going on with these humans. They didn't seem to be able to be just happy with how things were but always needed change. He didn't understand. Of course, change could be for the better. When Durant had disappeared, yes, that had been a good thing for him and all the other werewolves. But what had been in for the humans, that remained a mystery to him.

Humans on the whole weren't that difficult to understand. They hated werewolves (no matter what the Ministry said) and avoided them like the pest. Probably they thought that they were the pest, it was just as likely. On the whole, when humans weren't trying to kill them, they were busy with running away from them. That was the norm. That was how things should be and this was what made this situation so eerie. That woman, a total stranger, shouldn't be sitting here. It was not normal for any human being, even less for a female, to be sitting casually near him and not showing any sign that all she wanted was to be somewhere else. She hardly seemed to notice him in the first place. It felt wrong, and he didn't like things to be so wrong. He knew that he looked more dangerous than he was for which he was grateful because it helped him staying alone, and being alone was better than being in the wrong company. And he had the instinctive feeling that this woman, as harmless as she looked, was wrong company. There was one good thing about the whole situation though: most likely he wouldn't be the one for who she would prove that. He was relatively sure that he was as of little interest to her as it seemed, and he felt that he most likely had to be grateful for that. Still, he wished he could flee her presence, but then he also didn't want to attract attention. So he would continue as if she wasn't there and hope that this was indeed the way that caused least trouble.

Coming here today was simply to watch and pay attention to the person in question. It wasn’t anything more than that. And it wasn’t going to turn into anything more than that either. There were times in the past when situations had escalated past what was supposed to happen. It didn’t happen often, but it did happen, and it never really ended all that well. The best case of that happening had certainly been Italy. They hadn’t been back to the country after what had happened there. She had gone to stake a location out, something that she thought that she was perfectly capable of doing on her own. That would have been fine. If she had just stayed where she was watching them, then nothing would have gone wrong that day. But it had just so happened that the people in question had left, and she’d decided to check out the place, thinking it was empty. That had ended up with her in the hospital and them never going back to Italy themselves.

Another situation that had escalated had been the day that she had met Eli. She had been tasked to kill him by the organization that they had worked for. She had broken into his hotel room knowing that he was out and hoping to get a read on him by seeing what he’d brought with him. She had wanted to see the weapons that he had, and just what she was up against. Him coming back into the room hadn’t been a part of that plan. If he had just grabbed something and left, he might not have noticed that anything was amiss in the room, but it hadn’t happened like that. Now, of course, she was glad for that. If that situation hadn’t happened exactly the way it had, then… it wouldn’t have ended like this. It wouldn’t have ended with them married, and her loving him more than she thought herself capable of loving anyone. He was the most important person in her life, and there wasn’t anything that she wouldn’t do for him.

Including a job that was a little beneath her, if she were to be completely honest. But here she was anyway, watching this bloke from across the restaurant in Knockturn Alley. He seemed to be settling in well enough at the table he was at, and now that he’d sat back down she could leave the table that she’d dropped down at as quickly as she could. The man sitting across from her clearly did not want company, and she was not someone that chatted mindlessly to people. She could be social when she wanted to be, but this was not one of those situations. He seemed more likely to bite her head off than anything else. She had spoken, and he hadn’t answered--hadn’t said so much as a word to her, and now seemed to be content to ignore her. But now that her mark was seated, she could leave this man to his solitude. “Thanks.” She said, under her breath, before getting to her feet. He didn’t know it, but he had done her a favor by not causing a seat when she’d sat down. There was a table open now that was closer to her mark, so she slid into that one instead, and picked up a menu.

Should we just close it out?

The reasons to come to Knockturn Alley… for humans, they were usually not of a nature that their own kind would approve of. Humans had rules and laws and a government. But in Knockturn Alley they had these things… less. People here knew not to meddle with the other person’s business because none of them had business that they wanted someone else to interfere with. Humans here were stepping out of their usual sphere and that made them a little bit less human. And therefore a tiny little bit safer to be around — less safe for themselves, less safe for other humans, but more safe for those who the humans usually enjoyed to hunt. Yet, they still remained humans, they would return to their own world, and then they shouldn’t remember anything that could put him in danger. So even if Knockturn Alley was the least human place in the human world, it still remained human, and therefore no place where he wanted to come in contact with them. The humans.

The woman whispered something that sounded weirdly like an expression of gratitude. It made him half look up because it was so nonsensical, but by then she had already stood up. He exhaled with relief. She was going elsewhere. He looked away at his food again, just paying enough attention that she had sat down at a table farther away. He was now the one feeling grateful, her presence had not made him feel safe. Less safe than he had felt in the first place. There were too many humans around and this woman’s behaviour had been too unnatural to make him want to stay a moment longer. He was now feeling thoroughly thankful that she had changed the table, for if she had stayed, he didn’t know whether he’d have dared to move. He had no idea who she was and even less inclination to find out. He just knew that he would be far from disappointed if he never saw her again. Most people that one first encountered in Knockturn Alley were of this kind. There was the occasional werewolf, who could be found here more frequently than in most places, but he knew so few werewolves these days that he didn’t come to the alley expecting to meet someone he recognized. Or to not be recognized. The humans usually didn’t look all too closely at him, but just in case he preferred not to stay in their company for long enough to enable them to observe him.

He drank out what he had in front of him and counted out the number of Sickles that the meal had cost. It took longer than he liked, but he didn’t want to have a waiter help. He could count, just not very well. But then he had never been taught either, so he didn’t expect more of himself. He just didn’t need to have anybody else tell him how to do such a thing. It wasn’t like he could go to a bank and do anything with the bit of money he had every once in a while. As soon as he was sure that the amount of coins on the table was correct, he hurried towards the door. The woman was still at the table she had sat down when she had done him the favour of leaving him alone. Was she watching a man? It was more of a gut feeling than anything else because nothing in her attitude showed that. Still, it was enough for making him feel very grateful that he was not that man. And as soon as he had exited the pub, he Apparated away to a place that was free from humans.

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End of thread