Two Sides of a Coin

Brrrrrrring!

…

Brrrrrrring!

…

Brrrr-beep!

“Hey, Beth. Pick up your phone, will yah? I’m getting butchered in here. Actually, y’know what – never mind – I don’t even know where you are these days.”

Beep, beep, beep.

The phone died, the voicemail trailing off uselessly as Holden, in his temper, hang up on his partner. A blackbird fluttered down onto the earthy ground and nipped its beak through the leafy undergrowth until it caught hold of the shiny piece of metal. It pecked at it but it made no further sound and, disappointed, the bird flapped off, settling on a branch just as the leaves began to turn and a dark, chestnut head of hair poked up from the auburn forest floor. Stretching out, the creature dislodged all of the leaves before turning onto its back and the blackbird found itself looking down at a person. It flew off without any further comment on the scene and left the woman to her morning.

Elizabeth Murdoch slowly woke her muscles, flicking her fingers before turning her hands and rolling her wrists, furthering her movements with her arms, her shoulders and the rest until she could lift herself into a rudimentary sitting position. Her bloodied fingers drew across her face wiping scarlet across the creamy porcelain skin that was stretched, broken and sore. She still wasn’t used to the full moon. She doubted she would ever grow used to it – or where she had the tendency of ending up. Merlin only knew where this place was and she was grateful for the foresight to attach her wand to a necklace so she could apparate home.

Her body ached. As hot water sprayed down over her once in the comfort of her bathroom, she truly understood just how much. She pressed her forehead against the tiles, taking shallow breaths as she fought to scrub herself her clean and catch her breath. She felt as though her heart was still hammering from the night before and adrenaline was still thick in her lungs. She needed to phone Holden, she knew, but she’d left her mobile. She’d decided to ignore him, and the Ministry, altogether. She would have gotten into her pyjamas would have laid across the sofa and eaten food that was terrible from her while doping on pain potion and wine. She would have spent all day watching movies. Would have. Only, she’d agreed to meet Sebastien for breakfast.

As she dried herself and donned her clothes, feeling surprisingly civilised, she found herself regretting it. She wanted to die, in part. She felt as though she’d been running for a million years and, undeniably, for miles. As she caught sight of herself in the mirror, with a split cheekbone and a cut lip, she really couldn’t find any reason for why she should put herself in nice clothes and go and meet him to discuss the research. But then, that was the reason. That reflection was what made it important. It was what made it worth it. She needed to see him because if they got it right, she’d never have to feel like this again.

So, despite how rotten she felt and despite still faintly smelling of the sweetness of the forest even after all of the mango body wash she’d scrubbed into her skin, she left her flat and apparated to Diagon Alley. From there she picked her way through the throng of witches and wizards and entered Sparks Bistro and Bakery for the breakfast hour. She found a seat, half-falling into it, and managed to sober herself just in time for the waitress to come over. For a starting point, Elizabeth ordered coffee – as black as the other witch could make it – and some chocolate brioche buns. She returned with the latter after a moment and the coffee not long after that, giving Elizabeth something to quell her rumbling stomach with while she waited. And Merlin, she was grateful.

(I'm so sorry this took me so long. :/)

Headache.

After all the things he needed to go through, last night, he was rewarded with one of the worst headaches he had in his whole life. Okay, there's not many things about last night that he remembers, but it must be a rough one if he woke up when the first strikes of Sun light find their way through thick clouds, just to find out he's bleeding the second after his hands touched his bare chest. That surely wasn't how he wanted to start the day. Clenching his teeth to stop the sigh he stood up listening the sounds of the forest that's waking up. After quick examing of his state he decided that going to his flat is not an option. Although he was more bloody than actually wounded he didn't want to realize a scene from horror movie right in front the eyes of his daughter, so his room at Hogwarts was the only place he could go. Hah, he even considered going to Christian's or Hayeley's instead, but he was sure his brother doesn't want to hear anything about him since he found out what've he became, so he dropped that option. After reminding himself that Hayley was already left for Hogwarts cause she had some trainings this afternoon, the castle stayed his only option. Inhaling fresh air that once made him feel awesome but miserable was the first word he could describe it now, he glanced around him for the last time, watching the woods all around him, he disappeared in a bundle of white light.

Shower didn't help at all, nor did the second one, not even the third one; he could still feel the ground on his skin, although the water that was flowing towards the sewers became clean long time ago. Smell of the forest stayed permanently trapped deep down in his nostrils, and even since he knew he left the forest and is in his room at Hogwarts, just a few doors down from the library, every time he closed his eyes he could picture it again, although he could picture only pieces, those pieces were enough to make him hate the forests for the rest of his life, and make him hate himself too, just because he was stupid enough to get caught that resulted in becoming a werewolf. Yes, he could blame himself for that; pity that he hated that part of him, he did nothing to change. Well, one day his arrogance and recklessness would lead him to premature death, and he couldn't decide if the feeling he felt thinking about it was terror or joy.

Sebastien was glad he's going to meet Beth for a breakfast, that gave him a perfect reason to occupy his mind thinking only about physical activities he needed to do. Find a gauze, clean the wound, press the gauze over it, drink cure potion, drink some pain killers just in case potion doesn't work. Get dressed, that took him less time than he wanted, since he never had a lot of clothes, and every piece he had was dark, well except bright yellow shirt with 'Smile, Sunshine' on its front, a birthday present from Hayley, but he never wore it so it doesn't count. O'Sullivan left the castle only an hour after he got there.

Apparating in the middle of Diagon Alley it took him few seconds to orientate himself. buttoning up his coat, more because of habit than cold, he turned right on the first crossroad. He walked steady utterly sure he'll be early and that he'll wait for Elizabeth to show up. That was regular scenario, he would be early and then have to wait sometimes even couple of hours for the other person to show up. He stopped in front of the place where they agreed to meet, passed a hand through his hair and opened the door. The temperature inside almost made him regret for buttoning his coat but he fight the need to unbutton it again, just to prove himself that a little higher temperature can't do nothing to change his plans. Scanning the room he immediately spotted Elizabeth sitting in the corner. Does that woman ever sleep? He inhaled reconciling with the fact that he was late for the first time in his life, walked towards her and sat across from her.
"Morning," he greeted, "and sorry I'm late." That sounded weird. He must take care to never be late again.

(OOC: Sorry, lovely! D: This took forever and it's not even very good.)

It was up from her coffee that Elizabeth looked just as the bistro door opened. She felt her breath catch and an overwhelming feeling of calm swept over her when she set her dark gaze on Sebastien. She didn’t know what it was, and it certainly gave her pause, but there was something in that moment and in seeing him that made her relax, as though it was the feeling of chocolate after an encounter with a Dementor or the sweep of a Patronus over her skin. Seeing him reassured her. It made her hurt less.

“Morning,” she smiled, wincing absently as the skin either side of her cut lip pulled. She drew the lip into her mouth and waved her tongue across it but it did little to sooth the smarting skin. She pushed the plate of brioche between them when he sat down and took her hand away to rub at her collarbone, slipping her fingers underneath the collarbone of her jumper. She knew that this was just the magic beginning to sort out what was broken and aching but she believed that there was nothing more abhorrent than the itchiness that it all caused. It was another reason why werewolves carried so many scars – they were as guilty as the wolves they sparred with.

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied, taking her hand away. “I was early anyway.” She was also still carrying the restlessness of the dog in her shoulders. She could feel the forest air in her lungs and the thwacking of branches across her cheeks as she tumbled through the trees. There was strain and power in her arms and her legs that now manifested as utter exhaustion. She couldn’t even remember what they’d decided to have breakfast for. Was it practical or was it some sort of post-coital guilt that required them to play nice in socially-appropriate settings?

“Do you want some coffee?” She asked, turning her spoon through her cup of tar. Then, she added belatedly, remembering that she probably should play nice in a socially-appropriate setting … “How are you?”

(I could say that for myself too, I'm more than a month late, sorry.  )

Once he caught his gaze he never glanced away. Walking towards her was probably the longest walk in his life, even since they were only couple of meters apart he felt like the distance was much bigger, like he couldn't get near her fast enough. Weird. It was because the books, he wants to know about the books, that's why he's feeling that way. Yes. The books. Definitely. concluding that Sebastien immediately felt calmer (or is that because he was finally sitting across from her?) how couldn't he when there's logical explanation for everything.

Sebastien shook his head silently refusing brioche. It was too early for him, he could never eat early in the morning. Scratch that, he could never eat in the morning at all, not without getting ill and more grumpy than usual. He pushed the plate back to her acting like everything's perfect. Yes, he saw her wince when she smiled that made him notice cut on her lip. He tried to recall but he couldn't remember seeing it before. Maybe she bit her lip. Probably. It's no big deal. If she was his brother he might consider mocking her, but knowing she's not and knowing he's full of bruises and cuts himself he stayed silent cause asking or even pointing he noticed something like this might ask her the same question in return. And there was plenty of material cause he never drink potions for faster healing of wounds, the potion was easy, he could make him by himself but he liked to remember. He might look like a masochist but he was glad he had those bruises and cuts, without them he couldn't forget who he is every time he passes by a mirror, nor he can forget how he got there.

He glanced away only to find himself eye in eye with the reflection of himself in the mirror spread all around the wall. Oh, how humane he looks now! There's not any trace of fur on his tanned skin, inside his shoes his feets doesn't end with paws. There's nothing that would tell that this man spent his night running around without control. A beast, word floated in his mind as he turned his gaze away. A beast. Bastien glanced back at Elizabeth, she should run away, screaming and kicking, and never look around. So innocent, his lips twitched, she probably doesn't assume anything, he could tell her, he already knew he won't. If he told her something she might go away and he needed her. He needed her help with books and he was selfish enough to stay silent if that meant she stays here.

"Thanks." Sebastien took her cup and took a sip knowing she probably didn't think that way. He flashed her with a smile, got up before she could comment and walked towards the counter, he bought a cup of coffee, better not to test his luck with Elizabet's cup, and some more of brioches she ate. Once he was back he put the plate next to the other one. After putting down his coffee with at least half pound of sugar and with enough cream to decorate several of cakes he sat down. He never understood how could people drink simple black coffee without anything in it. Elizabeth's next question caught him surprised. "I'm awesome," he replied amused, "and you?"

(OOC: I took the liberty of moving them into the night before. I hope you're still up for that - otherwise the second half of my post will be really weird. Haha!)

The significance of their meeting was now lost on Elizabeth and now, in truth, she just wanted his company. The ailing werewolf was not at all in the right frame of mind to recall details about the books and it was the coffee giving her life as well as the few vials of potions she’d managed to stomach. All of her muscles were sore and she felt as though her body was made out of sticks and a gentle breeze could blow her over at a moment’s notice. She hardly felt fit enough to be an expert in any field in that moment – except for perhaps the fine points of her bed.

She smirked despite herself, wanting to point out that she hadn’t really been offering him hers. Beth sat back in her chair, her smirk warming into a proper smile, and she folded her arms softly over her chest, mindful of not aggravating her ribs which were now truly beginning to register their rejection of being human again – or, at least, being human in a post-werewolf setting. She felt ill and he was drinking her life’s blood. She half wanted to throw a bit of brioche at him but he soon set her saucer down and got up, leaving Beth to wonder whether he’d heard her thoughts.

When Sebastien returned, she was about ready to apologise for something she hadn’t even said when another plate of brioche was set down. The witch felt colour rise in her cheeks and she sat up a little straighter, quite unable to take her eyes off of the plate, wondering what she’d done to deserve such a random act of kindness. It took Beth a little while to remember that these were her regular person clothes and in this setting she didn’t dance on tables and wriggle in the laps of businessmen in the hope of finding out trade secrets for the Ministry. She wasn’t whoring herself out here. Not with him.

She’d forgotten what kindness felt like.

Slowly, the witch regained some of her earlier countenance and reached forward to break off a bit of the bread and pushed it between her lips. She chewed thoughtfully and brought her coffee back to her lips, watching him over the rim as he abandoned far more sugar into it than she had ever contemplating anyone doing. In her current state, though, she couldn’t see herself far from doing the same, even if it did set her teeth on edge. There was something, she felt, that was superior about the tar-like consistency in her cup – but she did concede that was probably a hangover from being a cop for so long.

“Never better,” the witch replied tartly, setting down the cup. It was a heinous lie. He could’ve probably seen it with the downward curl of her lips and all of the other tells flickering under the surface of her features displaying the fact that ‘better’ was what she yearned to be. She had been better, too, hours before when the sweet smelling spring breeze ruffled through her russet fur and put her on the trail of a deer dancing towards a pond half a mile’s run away from where she’d transformed in the Forest of Dean. “Just had one hell of a night, is all.” She elaborated after a moment.

---

The werewolf picked her way through the undergrowth, abandoning the campsite that her magical counterpart had set up. With her nose rifling through the leaves, trying to keep track, the dog was focused on one task at hand and it sent her weaving amidst the trees – even bumping into one and forcing her back onto her bum. She’d paused then and had shaken her head, almost offended by the tree’s presence there, but she soon pressed on, determined to find her deer. Or was it an elk? Weren’t they the same? The werewolf certainly didn’t care.

Restless, the dog took a long stretch before bounding forward, leaping over roots rising out of the earth and scaring rabbits that were out hopping about in the moonlight. They all hurried back into their burrows as the werewolf took a detour to press her nose down the hole. She wasn’t quite quick enough this time and soon moved on, tracing back after the deer and picking up her pace before launching into a run that rubbed the wind through her fur and took her sailing through the forest towards her prey.

Another scent caught Elizabeth’s nose, making her thunder to a stop, another tree breaking her momentum. She whined despairingly and got to her feet again before peeking around in search of the other werewolf. She was sure she’d smelt one. A growl ripped up her top lip and she moved slowly, belly close to the ground, as she tried to sniff out the other dog. Then she spotted him across the clearing and sat up. He didn’t look menacing, at least. This werewolf wasn’t a particularly confrontational one – she wasn’t particularly up for a fight.

Instead she barked – a rather unusual sound for a werewolf. It was as close to a ‘hello’ as any, though.

Sebastien winced as he sat down again, it felt like the wound burst open again. He touched his ribs, unable to do more without pulling his shirt of and flashing all the customers with too much bare skin. He didn't know what he could do even if he wasn't in the middle of the bistro, putting a gauze over the wound was the only thing he knew, and since there wasn't any healing potions for him, he promised himself he'll never take any after transition, the only thing he could do is wait.

He put his hands around the coffee mug and inhaled, forcing his mind to ignore the pain. Funny, his ribs hurt even more after a sudden expansion of the lungs. Sebastien lifted the mug and slowly took a sip ignoring a sudden need to start laughing. Warm fluid served its cause, although he had gone out of line with sugar he forced himself to drink in order to warm his body, hoping it might help and neutralize the pain. Yes he said he won't take potions, he never agreed that he won't cheat in order to get better. Yet, he might reconsider his decision if nothing changes, O'Sullivan might be stubborn, sometimes, but even he can change his mind if he finds another way more satisfying.

Sebastien looked at his companion only to find her blushing. Because a plate of brioche? He frowned trying to find a reason for blushing, yet his answer was so silly he wanted to get up and buy another plate only to find out if he's wrong. It's silly, of course he doesn't need something to prove that, he wanted to chuckle only for thinking that way. Maybe he would if he was in a better shape, he could only break few more ribs this way, besides that he simply doubted she would like that. For a person who barely care for anything Sebastien showed some human emotions, indeed. Why?

Bastien take a few seconds to examine her face, from those mysterious dark eyes, equally dark hair that framed her face, pink lips that tasted delicious, he knew, she looked more or less the same as she looked the previous time they saw each other, yet he couldn't tell why he doesn't her answer was truthful. "Glad to hear that." He smirked not believing in that longer that a second but letting her to get away with a lie, after all he lied too, why she couldn't then? Yet, that didn't stop him from wondering what hear answer would be if she told him the truth, however that couldn't be a lot different answer, he could describe Elisabeth with many words and fragile simply wasn't one of those. Girls problems, probably.

"Tell me more about it.“ He replied without really asking for an answer. Sebastien knew how rough nights may be very well and he had no intent in prying, after all, he hates being constantly asked what he did, so he completely understood the lack of words.

---

Along with first Moonbeam the wolf raised his body from wet leaves that were used as his bed during the time his body changed, until the last humane mark disappeared under blackish fur. He raised his snout and howled at moon, thanking him for another night of freedom, it's been too much since the last one ended. The wolf streched his body, feeling every muscle burning with energy that was being stored for a whole month, only to be spent in a couple of hours of the night. Feeling the chilly air all around him, he started jogging, delaying the pleasure he finds in running, just for a little while.

The wolf stopped hearing leaves cracking under weight of someone's body, his muscles tensed, ready to start running in that direction, he wasn't pretty hungry, nor he saw anything attractive in hunting, but that animal ruined his perfect moment with the nature, so he was ready to ruin its night as well. He slowly started sneaking, following its smell, completely relying on his senses convinced that it will take him to the finish line. After hearing a bark the wolf stopped moving again, and raised his head to meet the animal that distracted him earlier. He expected a rabbit, fox, perhaps a deer but unlikely, but not the animal he was seeing. The wolf sat on the ground, staring in the eyes of another werewolf. He expected someone far weaker than him that can be easily driven off, but he found the same animal he was. His equal.

The air was thick with the smell of pine that night as the needles thickened on the trees. She usually had the run of the forest herself and she’d gallivant after the deer and normally run amuck of a few centaurs before dawn broke. That night, though, she had company and in a carnal way the dog was interested in the other canine. She usually steered clear of other werewolf hunting grounds. She could usually smell it on the area. She hadn’t sensed any sign of this one before she had changed, though, so even the latent mind of the human trapped behind the force of the werewolf had its interest piqued.

Pushing forward onto her paws, the wolf picked towards the newcomer carefully. She didn’t want to offend, neither did she want to give off the appearance that she was anything other than in control of this area and of the situation. There was a competitive side to her wolf that resonated with a streak in the woman and she loathed people muscling in on her office territory let alone the place she had to go to hide every month. She didn’t beg for company. She’d never even howled for such. No, the wolf understood as much as she did the need for loneliness.

Pragmatic though it was for a human terrified of hurting anyone, it didn’t make sense to the wolf when face to face with another of its kind. It grew impish, bounding forward happily to greet the other wolf. She lowered her head and snuffled around the dog’s rear end before jumping back and then bouncing forward again to lick across the dog’s face. The wolf hopped away, her tongue lolloping out of the side of her mouth, a wolfish (hah!) grin on her canine features.

She pressed forward again and grabbed lightly at the other wolf’s ear with her teeth before hopping away, yapping a little. The request was clear enough. Play!

(OOC. I'm so sorry this took me so long, in the future I will reply more often. :3)

"Do you wanna try me?" Sebastien raised a brow challenging her with a smirk plastered on his lips.

The woods in the Forest of Dean completely hid those two wolves from the moon, as well as from any other beings that might be wandering around. Dark grey wolf carefully watched the other one. The wolf seemed as lazy in his animal form as well as in his humane form, doing nothing that might reveal what is he going to do. He bared his teeth as the other wolf came closer, showing he's not interested in having company. That usually worked just fine in getting rid of every other living creatures. Spark of wonderment appeared in his yellowish eyes, when the wolf noticed that the other animal doesn't plan to stop.

The animal rose, stretching his lean body, partly trying to show the other one that it's not interesting at all, but partly getting ready for anything that might come afterwards. The wolf expected an attack, knowing animals do that when they want to protect their territory, howling, maybe, but he never except the thing the other wolf did. Playing. The wolf wanted to play. Grey wolf sat again, his bum hitting damp ground. Playing?

He rose again, changing his mind and slowly went down crawling on the ground never looking away from the other wolf. When he came close enough the wolf jumped gently nudging the other wolf's loin with his paw. 1:1. He stopped, looked at the other one for a few seconds than turned and started running. The wolf stopped again, checking if the other wolf is behind him, then started running again.

The wolf bounded about, a wild grin letting her mouth fall open. Contended was not a word that righty captured the excitement that she felt at having a playmate. The human’s fanatical desire not to hurt another being stifled the wolf, made her lonely and mournful when the full moon came. To have someone else, another creature snuffling about her, warm and alive was a joyous experience. It was something that she had never thought she would be able to have under the chilly glow of the moon high in the night’s sky and she wanted to keep the moment, save it, and hold it to her heart because it mattered to the wolf. In a funny sort of way, it mattered to the human, too.

At the bat of the other wolf’s paw, the russet coloured dog jumped with a canine yelp, not having been expecting the other wolf so eager to play. Her grin only seemed to widen and she took off after the grey hound, blistering across the forest floor, hot in pursuit of the creature. She was fast but not using her speed meant that she was woefully unaware of her own, true capabilities. She passed the other wolf, blundering by, only to find that she wasn’t running, really, anymore. At least, she wasn’t running after anything. So, she ground to a halt, her feet digging trenches into the earth as she skidded to her stop.

Turning, she sat up smartly, puffing out her chest impressively as she sought the other wolf’s approval. Yipping, she quirked her ears happily and leaned down, wiggling her bum in the air before leaping forward, bouncing on her paws before reaching up and batting playfully at the other wolf. Then, feeling bolder than ever, she licked him, straight across the cheek before letting go of what sounded awfully like laughter. And the human couldn’t begrudge it. This was rare, after all, this kind of happiness.

Running was something he often avoided in his humane form, however in his wolf form it was indescribable experience. There was something addictive in it, in chasing someone, his wolf liked while the man he was the rest of the month didn't stand that. The wolf clenched its jaw seeing the other one rushing past him and taking the lead, while among humans clenched jaw usually meant someone is angry, the wolf didn't feel anger (could they feel anger? the animal never thought about that, letting primal urge sto rule him instead) more like determination. He felt the need to caught another wolf. Why? There was no answer on that question either.

The wolf slowed down, eventually stopped just out of reach of other, unevenly waving his tail he watched the other one with undisguised curiosity, even since he was one, others of his kind were still a mystery to him, so he wasn't entirely comfortable with letting the other wolf out of his sight even since the other one didn't show any intent of attacking him. Hoarse bark left his throat, almost like he asked the other wolf what's she planning to do.

He got his answer, maybe not the way the wolf expected it, feeling another's tongue on his muzzle he jumped back letting out a surprised whoop, only to slowly return on his previous position. The wolf expression mirrored the expression of his companion…Happy? The wolf accept losing better than the man, he sat back, trying to confuse the other one, only to rise quickly few seconds after that and jump ahead bypassing another wolf. He caught her tail, keeping it between his teeth only as much as needed to other wolf to notice, before letting it go and quickly turning around to face her. Game on!

The man moved, leaning his elbows on the table, that might be rude gesture, but he didn't care. He rubbed his eyes feeling sleepiness disappears driven out due dose of caffeine. Suppressing a yawn he pushed bangs away from his eyes and gazed down at his mug happy because it seemed that Elizabeth doesn't have the need to fill every silence with speaking, it was almost relaxing. Bastien reached for the plate on the table, took a brioche and put it in his mouth, wanting to see what's so special int hat little piece of bread. It took him only a few seconds to regret doing that, he rushed towards a stand for napkins, knocking down salt shaker on his way. He spat out the food, wishing he can do something to get rid of that awful taste in his mouth. Coffee! He took the mug and drank, its sweetness momentary replaced sour taste in his mouth. Sebastien wiped his mouth with another napkin, knowing that whipped cream made white stain around his mouth. Crumpling the napkin in his hand he gazed at Elizabeth, "Do people actually like to eat that?"