CoR In For a Penny, In For a Pound

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Lark arched an eyebrow at Ragenard -- they both knew that answer didn't even halfway cover explaining what he'd asked. "Right..." he murmured. He wasn't going to pry any further, at least when it came to whatever was going on with Ragenard himself. The kid was another matter. Turning to face him as he whined and curled into a ball, Lark couldn't help but pity him. He doubted whatever was going on with him was entirely his own doing -- maybe his own stupidity for getting caught up in it, but nothing more than that.

"Easy there, Beans," Lark rolled his eyes and paced over to grab an old rag of a blanket from atop one of the nearby crates, one that had seen plenty of use preserving a few shreds of modesty and dignity for the cage's occupants over the years. He came back over and tossed it through the bars towards Jimmy. "Here. Now d'you wanna try explaining what the fuck you just did?"
 
Wolf-sick? Yeah, no fuckin' way. But a'ight, old man. Keep yer secrets.

Xandre chose not to comment on it, instead reading over his text. As he replied, he played off of Rage's banter.

"How 'bout a lil column A, little column B, eh? Maybe I'll go dust off Ol' Minnie. Haven't given her love in a hot minute." Ol' Minnie was a turret-mounted chain-fed minigun in her youth. Xandre still hasn't admitted how he got his hands on it, but since then he's outfitted it to be hand-held. At nearly a hundred pounds in steel and hundreds more in lead, not many non-shifted wolves could use it effectively, and Xandre boasted himself as one of them. He could put over 100 pounds of lead down range each second.

As he talked, he responded over text.
Pangolin shit?

Worried so. Not many other heavies I kno of could. I mean c'mon, this some bio-magic shit. Gotta speak to Cathal, this is his side of the streets.

Need backup?


Finally he turned to the elephant in the room. Er, wolf? Fire wolf? Eh, whatever. "Whatever it were, 'e was high as a fuckin' kite while 'e was on it. Street drug I reckon. Maybe--I hope--it was just a side effect 'coz these new-age drugs don't always perform as 'spected. I hope it's that, 'coz if it ain't, some fuck jus' did this on purpose."
 
Need backup?


"Guess we'll find out how much boom our tab is good for," Ragenard replied amicably to Xandre's gun talk. He did not deign to grace Xander with a sly murderous stare for implying he needed backup as he replied to his text however; it would likely be lost on the mad dwarf.

Against Cathal? You know we wouldn't stand a chance; you've seen how quickly he :emoji_evergreen_tree:'s a :emoji_man_dancing:. You just want to ogle his granddaughter some more.


Ragenard's brow furrowed at the mention of Jimmy's state prior to being thrown in the pound. He loomed over Lark and Xandre, lending his presence to the weight of Lark's question as he brooded over Jimmy, but without speaking over the younger wolf's interrogation. His fingers continued to tap away meanwhile:

I flunked out of both biology and magical aptitude, but I've hung out with the druids long enough. You can't get that wildly different of effects accidentally. But this dipshit would make the worst hitter...product test? Where'd you say you picked him up again?
.
 
Beans? Who the fuck is that?

Jimmy was trying so hard to be invisible that he didn't react to anything until the blanket was tossed at him. Snaking a hand out, he snagged the cloth and immediately pulled it over his body. Wiggling around just a little to ensure it covered every inch of him, he finally kind of focused on the three men. Though, the huge guy scared him immensely.

"What are you even talking about? Where am I and why the hell am I naked and in a cage?! What did you do to me?!" Jimmy's question was directed at them all and he groaned as his brain filled in a bit of the details again and he grunted while slowly sitting up.

"Oh yeah... I was shooting fire." He remembered that part, but had no recollection of the store incident.

His attention shifted to the dwarf and he stared at his strange way of talking. What the fuck..? Was he still high or was he dreaming? Biting on his bottom lip, he leaned against the bars.

"Let me go. My... my uncle and aunt are going to be pissed off that I'm out past my curfew." Keeping the blanket wrapped around him, he stood up and paced back and forth. As he moved, he suddenly recalled the night prior to the blackout.

"My friends and I like to do drugs... have been doing them forever and a day. The day my father bit me and turned me, we had hooked up with the Iron Jackals again. They are our primary dealers. Anywho..." Wait! Why the hell did he just give up his dealers?! Oh my god! He needed to fix this!

"I mean, not the Iron Jackals. It was so.e unknown person. They said they had gotten a new drug from an anonymous source and it was supposed to be the best out. My friends got busted shortly after that and when I didn't die or go crazy like my father, I decided to try the drug. Next thing I know, I'm in a cage." He frowned and hugged the blanket tighter.
 
"I think you have worse things to worry about than your aunt and uncle, kid," Lark remarked with an arched eyebrow. He hadn't expected him to spill everything quite so quickly. He wasn't sure whether that said good or bad things about his survival instincts... probably good, considering Ragenard's looming presence over his shoulder. Clearly keeping his mouth shut wasn't his forté, either way.

"Iron Jackals, huh?" Lark folded his arms and shared a glance with the other two. "Sounds like they've been getting their fingers into something new. Never heard of a pill that gives you fire breath before. Or makes you fast as a fucking F1 car. Anything like that been on your radars?"
 
"Yeh vandalized n' tried ta rob Thorje's shop while Lark here was inside, collectin' our fee for preventing 'zactly that sorta thing," he replied, both to Mr. Bean and to Ragenard's text.

"Drugs though, eh? Ain't never heard of no drugs that can do that. Sounds like there must be a new dealer in town," he said aloud, though again it was mostly to Ragenard, but he wanted Lark to hear that as well. "Seems we needta check out the Jackals. They been yippin' at our borders ever since the Rowan shit went down." He made a sound with his mouth, halfway between an exasperated sigh and a grunt. "I was hopin' we'd have a lil' time to lick our wounds 'fore we had to go put some other dipshits in their place. I guess I'll get Ol' Minnie oiled up t'night after all."
 
"Oh it's been on my radar alright," Ragenard replied to Lark alongside a sigh. "You're both too young and they never made it to Lutetia en masse oddly enough," Ragenard added with a significant look at Xandre. "Magic and biology aren't mutually exclusive, and this shit is one of the few things that gets Lutetian customs to call over the nice military chaps and you're never seen again. Illegal doesn't even begin to cover it. More like verboten. I haven't seen the damn things since the war..." Ragenard let out a forceful exhale he hardly realized he'd been holding then contemplated Jimmy.

"These things don't typically work well on our kind," he explained while trying to decide what to do with the pathetic waif before them. "It's almost a waste on a kid like this, I don't get it and I don't like it." He tapped on his phone some more as he continued, and this time both Xandre's and Lark's phones buzzed.

[To: Xandre, Lark] Watch him for an hour or so to see if he spills anything else worth it. Then take him by a drive-thru somewhere before cutting him loose; he's going to be ravenous after the dosing. Best friends act, I want the kid considering informing for us. Plus...I kinda can't blame anyone for vandalizing Thorje's...


"Give Minnie the whole treatment Xandre," he vocalized surly to Xandre's spoken statement as he finalized his text. "I don't know how dipshits like the IJs could have gotten their hands on this tier of shit, but this kind of toy in our backyard cannot stand." Ragenard cracked the cartilage in his neck and was about to say more when he finally lost his mind.

The clock on his phone read '12:00' as the hour struck noon. Like a weather vane turning in the wind, Ragenard spun on a dime suddenly, and faced directly and intently at the pound's eastern wall. His vision swam, and went out completely in one eye as the sun blinded him. Or at least, it felt like the sun was blinding him, but he couldn't understand why he thought that. Because you feel Its warmth and song, imbecile, came the unbidden thought alongside an overpowering urge to smile. Ragenard's eyes tightetned even as a broad grin overtook his features.

"So yeah, no rest for the wicked," Ragenard said with a mirthful tone. "On that note, I need to check on someone. Text me if anything else happens." He waved casually and walked off out of the pound proper and through the warehouse interior. That's a good show. Now fucking move out of here before you get them all killed, he thought as a reasurringly cool calm blanket washed away his panic. He didn't need to understand what was going on, he just knew he had places to be. The sky reflected a ruddy red off his Perrault as he approached it just outside one of the open loading bay doors. An exuberant feeling of excitement propelled him as he cranked it to life. He had to hurry and bathe in the residual energy before...Enough overthinking, let's go, Ragenard thought as he revved his bike and sped off into Lupaix proper.
 
Jimmy shook his head at Lark while also looking around for his phone. They didn't know his uncle and aunt, him missing curfew was way worse than anything else. He was going to pay dearly for it. Maybe if he found his phone and called them. No, texted them. They'd know something was up if he called and he wasn't about to be forced into rehab or jail. This cage was jail enough for him.

"Look... you don't ..." Trailing off at the short bastards words, he grew incredibly pale. No fucking way he did that! They had to be mistaken, right? He had always maintained control when drugged up, no matter what! But, the more he thought about it, the sicker his stomach grew. There was far too many black places in his memory, so maybe he did do what he was being accused of?

FUCK

He was so screwed. His pacing grew more erratic within the cage, especially when he remembered his phone was back at the abandoned house where the group often hung out. Oh, he was more than screwed. It wasn't lost on Jimmy that he narced on the Jackals and they no doubt would be unhappy with him if they found out. They had been trying to get him to join their ranks for a while now.

"The guy who gave it to me might've been lying about who he's with, so... don't be hasty? Besides, he got it from someone else, so ... " His voice was soft and he had stopped pacing for the moment. When Ragenard looked back at him though, he scowled angrily at him and felt his wolf growing agitated. He wanted out of the cage and even as the large fucker left, he kept glaring. He was bouncing between emotions and anger was just about in control.

"Look, I'll pay for the damage or whatever that you've claimed I've done, but I've GOT to go now. You don't understand... I can't be late." Hell, he didn't even know what time it was and that just made him all the more frantic.
 
Lark arched an eyebrow. This kid was in a cage surrounded by intimidating werewolf gang members (or, well, two intimidating werewolf gang members and Lark) and he was still more worried about curfew than about them? Something was clearly up with that. He paused to give his phone a glance when it buzzed -- apparently Xandre and Rage had decided to loop him into their little pocket convo now -- then tucked it away and gave Ragenard a nod, right before he dashed off again.

Ragenard was always dashing off somewhere, it seemed. Lark didn't envy him the number of burdens he was carrying right now -- hopefully he was doing an okay job of sharing them around where he could.

"Never a dull moment," he murmured, sighing. It had been too much to hope that things would stay quiet for longer. Of course the rest of the city wasn't about to give them a chance to rest, not when they could smell blood in the water.

Turning his attention back to Jimmy, he leaned up against a crate beside the cage and regarded him with a mix of curiosity and pity. "Most people would be a little more worried about being trapped in a cage by the guys that just kicked their ass than their auntie's curfew, y'know. So what's so urgent, Beans? Why you more scared of them than us?"
 
Xandre's enforcer phone buzzed just before Rage dashed off. He held up a hand to acknowledge the First's departure, but didn't say anything. Instead, he opened up the text and gave it a read. Best friends act, huh? Would be a bit of a one-eighty for him, but hopefully he wouldn't give the kid whiplash from it.

"Look, kid. None of us like Thorje. Old fucker is a thorn in our sides. But then, so are the Jackals.

"So yeh bought drugs from 'em. Who gives a shit? You ain't a Jackal right?" He hopped up to sit on another crate the same size as Lark's--but Xandre was much shorter--but positioned opposite Lark so the three formed a rather odd triangle. As he did, he continued.

"Lark here's onto something. Whatever mojo yeh had from the drugs is gone, and yeh're trapped in a Bloodstone jail. What stops us from shootin' yeh and buryin' the body? Pretty much nothin' besides the fact that we're nice guys." He slapped on the friendliest grin he could muster, which was... passable. "What, yeh need protection from yer folks? Well, we're in the protection business. And I suppose yeh've seen first-hand how effective we are. Wouldn' even charge yeh, just a friendly gesture to cover this misunderstandin'. Right, Lark?" He looked over toward his cohort, looking for validation.
 
Jimmy stopped pacing at the younger males question, head cocking to the side in confusion. It wasn't obvious to them? Maybe they didn't have the same issues? He bit on his bottom lip and soon went back to walking back and forth. He was trying to figure out how to explain just why he was more afraid of his aunt and uncle than them.

"It's complicated..." He started before trailing off, still not sure how to put it. His golden eyes shifted to the short asshole and he couldn't stop from rolling his eyes. Did they think he was that stupid? Apparently so.

"First off, the name is Jimmy. So stop calling me beans. Secondly, I'm not a fucking moron. I know what you're trying to do." He tugged the blanket up over his head, hugging it against him before sitting down.

"If you're going to kill me, then do it. You'd be doing me a favor. I'm fucked either way. My aunt and uncle are complete assholes who enjoy beating the shit out of me and seeing how much they can do before I pass out. Though they never go far enough to kill me. They scare me more because I can't fight back. I can't kill them even though I REALLY FUCKING WANT TO because then my life is over. With you... sure, I might die, but I know I probably won't kill you if we fight. You're not human... they are," He paused, clenching his jaw tightly.

"I'm not a Jackal, no. They want me though for my skills and stuff... been trying to get me for a while now. Been promising me all sorts of incentives beyond the drugs. I never prodded about what they meant." Tucking his legs up against his chest, the exhausted male sighed deeply before glancing back to the short fuck.

"I don't want your protection. I hate them, but they're my only family and deep down I don't want them dead even though I just said I do. My dad got bit and... then bit me before attacking a park and being shot to death. So, they're all I've got left. I'm sure I deserve the punishment... and being treated like shit by my cousins." He rubbed his eyes and shrugged with one shoulder.

"What kind of protection?" God, he was jumping around with his emotions and thoughts and he hated that.
 
Lark's eyebrows rose, then just as quickly furrowed into a frown. It was all too familiar a story, and attitude -- even if he'd seldom heard anyone put it quite so... directly. "Well, shit, kid. That's rough as all hell, even by our standards." He sighed and leaned back on his box. "Don't worry, we're not in the business of offing people quite that casually, even if it sounds like they deserve it."

He shook his head. "Look, whatever shit you might have done to make 'em hate you, nobody deserves that kind of regular beating. Specially not if all you've done is have the audacity to survive being bitten. You might be able to guess that, being wolves ourselves, we don't take kindly to that kinda attitude. You want us to have a little chat with 'em and politely ask 'em to give you a break, we can do that. And don't worry, I do mean actual talking."

Sure, it would be talking with heavily implied threats, but it was still technically just talking.

"You said the Jackals've been after you for your skills? What kinda skills are we talking, here?"
 
Jimmy was so far able to focus on just being angry and standoffish, but the more he talked about his relatives, the more he thought about what had happened to his father, the less angry he felt. The emotion was quickly being drowned out by sorrow and self-loathing, which in turn made him wish he was still high. The pain evaporated when he was doing drugs. Well, at least for a while. Still wrapped up in the blanket, he exhaled deeply and ended up resting his chin on his knees. It was a shame they didn't just off people all willy-nilly. No... it was a good thing.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK

Trying to get a grip on his mind and emotions, Jimmy focused instead on Lark, temporarily ignoring Mr. Dwarf. Fuck him. He shot at him. He paled at the notion of his relatives knowing he got bit. Did they know? He wasn't sure because the time between being bit and his first shift was blurry. Fuck, he hoped they didn't.

"They didn't want me, but dad gave me to them because my mom died in childbirth and I guess he's been paying them a lot to keep me. I'm not even sure if they know what happened to him and me. The payment was set up to be automatically withdrawn. I don't care about the money, but I'm tired of the iron fist ruling. Don't talk to them though, it'd just make everything worse." He flopped over onto his side and frowned at the prodding into his skills.

"Stuff like breaking and entering, vandalism, moving merchandise, and lately, brute strength."
 
"Aye, look, Jim. That's a fucked-up home life fer sure. I wouldn' wish that on my worst enemy. Honest to God, if he is even up there. But yeh know dopin' up don't fix it. The only thing that can fix it is to address it direct-like." He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, and kicked his feet so that his heels bounced against the crate.

"If yeh need help with that, come talk to us. Til then, just keep yer nose clean in Lupaix and we'll get along fine. Maybe even be friends." He paused for a minute, digging deep for what he was about to do. "I know shit was goin' down but I shot at you. I overreacted, and I'm sorry. In my mind, yeh were just some doped up dragon-wolf and I didn't want yeh tearin' about the railyard. But I'm glad it worked out that yeh were an armored dragon-wolf." He laughed softly at that.

"But Jimmy, looks like we may not be so different. B&E is my forte. As is strength. Vandalism... well, when the situation warrants. And I was a street punk once too. Weren't even always a Bloodstone. B'lieve it or not I was a Scion when I was around yer age." He shrugged his shoulders. "Jus' sayin', we don' haveta be enemies here, kid."
 
Lark nodded. "We've all made stupid mistakes before. Some of us way stupider than trusting the wrong dealer. So don't sweat it," he flashed Jimmy a sympathetic smile. "If you don't want us to get involved, we won't. But you should know you don't have to take their shit -- there's alternatives out there, if you're willing to put in the work. Wolves have to look out for their own, y'know?"

He sighed and paced over to where he'd left his bag, rummaging around in it for a few moments before pulling out an old t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and making his way back to the cage to toss them over to Jimmy. "Here. I carry a spare set around with me in case of emergency shifting. Might be a little small on you, but I figure it's better than nothing. You can stop by another day to return 'em, yeah? We're gonna let you cool off just a little longer so we can be sure those drugs aren't gonna flare up again, then let you go. If you're already past curfew then another hour or so to make sure you're not gonna catch fire again isn't gonna make much difference, I'd guess."
 
Shifting his gaze to Xandre, Jimmy barely kept from vocally disagreeing. Doping up was the only way he could cope and keep from doing something he'd regret. It was utterly ridiculous how that was his train of thought, but he definitely couldn't afford to lose control. Even before he had been bitten, he had to keep himself reeled in. Going to jail was a scary notion and deep down he was a soft kid despite being a good size.

"Addressing it does nothing. I'm in their care and they can do whatever they want to do to me. I should be grateful they even took me in and kept me." His voice was quiet, almost broken and he hugged the blanket even tighter. He did grin for a minute at an image of Xandre talking to them. They'd no doubt shit themselves, but would ensure they took it out of his flesh once alone. He let his gaze shift to Lark and he wondered what he meant by putting in the work. Was that an invitation? No, surely not.

"I don't have the means to live on my own and other than you two, the only others I know are my friends that are in rehab and my dealers. Not good choices. I'm willing to put in work, but I'm not exactly well-versed in the way of the world, so to speak." He was possibly going to say more, but was sidetracked by Larks movement. When he was suddenly given pants and a shirt, he beamed happily. Finally his extensive scarring would be almost completely covered up.

"Thanks! I'll get them back to you." As he quickly wiggled into the pants and shirt beneath the blanket, he couldn't help but shrug at Xandre's apology while attempting to ignore how tight the clothing was and how short the jeans seemed.

"Eh, it's fine... I've been shot at before, though you're the first to hit me. I appreciate the apology though... and maybe you're right. Maybe we don't have to be enemies. I don't know much about the gangs, but... my aunt and uncle always complained about them. I'm sorry for being an inconvenience and umm... for breathing fire." He yawned widely, exhausted from the prior events.

"You're right, Lark. My ass is already grass for being late. Might as well enjoy not being there while I can. The last thing I need to do is set the place on fire."
 
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