Author's Note: This is a story I've written this story in conjunction with Pheonix313 and this is my character's side of the story, if you will. The other character mentioned in here is Pheonix's character. So check out her Shadowhunter fic too.
This is one of those times where Harlow Briar wished there was such a thing as a normal sleeping schedule for Shadowhunters. She had woken up early, again. The sun was up and there were still plenty of young mundanes crowding the streets and running amuck. Instead of doing what she was trained to do, she laid there on her relatively uncomfortable bed and stared at the disturbing mural on the ceiling.
It was apparent that Shadowhunters had used this Institute long before her time and believed that no one of them should sleep peacefully. It was an artistic rendition of one of the many wars that had gone on throughout the Shadowhunter's history. Dark clouds loomed on one edge of the mural, bringing with it the Shadowhunters, all kinds of individuals united by the mission they had and the marks they bear. On the other, was a horde of demons rising up and tearing through the once pristine ground. In the middle, the storms met with a pristine blue sky and there was a more graphic and bloody depiction of war. She had long since given up on the determining the painter's ideals and wants for her community.
Finally encouraged to roll out of her bed, she landed softly and padded lightly over to her near empty closet. Harlow knew she was being re-located today, to some city in some part of the world that was in need of more Shadowhunters, but she couldn't say where she was going exactly or why they needed her. As she passed her only window, that was large and barred off, she allowed herself to look over the cityscape. This was home and she knew she would miss it.
Refocusing, she pulled out the last outfit she had left hanging for this particular day. Harlow knew of what was expected of her today, especially since she would be meeting a new partner, but she didn't particularly care to follow the standards set before her by the elders. If she was going to meet her new partner, they needed to get to know her from the get-go. And, she was never one to hide who she really was to begin with.
It took the young female Briar just about an hour to prepare herself for the meeting, weapons and all. Giving her old room one last look before leaving she paused in front of her vanity mirror to give herself a once over.
Harlow was dressed in her own normal and favorite fashion, steampunk. Her light brown hair was tied back by a black ribbon in a slick ponytail, her naturally curly ends currently dyed blue. Resting on top of her head where her favorite pair of goggles, designed to look like a welder's goggles, they were black with a thick brown leather strap decorated with black painted gears and a small rune in the back towards the base of her neck. She wore a simple black tank-top, where a thick off-white scar just barely peeked out of it right over her heart, underneath a deep red leather jacket. Her pants were like those most equestrians used for riding, light and tight fitting. A thick brown leather belt slung across her waist, each holster at either of her sides held both of her retractable bo staffs. One was specially made out of iron and the other was a simple but sturdy wood. Finally, her feet were encased in modified brown boots, each had several shiny iron and silver buckles.
Once she had given herself an overall approval, she slung her long single seraph blade across her back, finally completing the desired look. Grabbing her neon orange suitcase she left her room and Institute for the first and last time.
Harlow Briar was not one to enjoy sitting still for long periods of time. She deplored it. So, learning at the airport that she would be taking one plane from New York City to Denver, Colorado then another to the tiny town of Laramie, Wyoming did not go over well with her. The first flight was a nightmare; she did nothing for six hours but sit and force herself to practice drawing runes in the small sketchbook and box of pencils she had bought before boarding. The second was better but still horrifying. Flying around in a metal container made by mundanes who had no idea that this would not stand the slightest chance against a pissed off dragon was not how she wanted to spend her time. Every time the miniscule plane jumped or lurched her fingers would go to her stele and bo staff.
Landing, safe and unharmed, in Laramie's small airport she strode the few feet that would take her to its entrance and waited. According to the message she got, a car would come by and pick her up shortly after her arrival. She knew it was a bit of a college town, but not much else. Not that it mattered now, she was here.
"Harlow Briar?" At the sound of her name she turned to face a tall lean man stepping out of an old, beaten car. "I'm supposed to pick you up."
He approaches her as she fully turns and he offers a hand to shake. Playful hazel eyes thickly outlined in blue eyeliner meet clear brown ones, "Pleasure to meet you. You are?"
"Scott." He offered a bit of a fiendish grin and his eyes changed, only for a moment, before he glanced down at her right hand grasping his; her small mark of angelic power stood powerfully against the skin just beneath the back side of her thumb, "Welcome to Laradise."
As Scott took her suitcase and relocated it to the safety of the back of his near decrepit car, Harlow helped herself to the passenger's seat. When the werewolf came in to do his job, he chuckled at her insistence of being different.
"Generally, customers sit in the back seat." He gave no clear indication that he was against this particular seating arrangement as he buckled himself in.
"Now, what strikes you as this being anything near normal." Harlow's eyes scanned him as she spoke. She may trust this Downworlder for now, she may even find him interesting, but that didn't mean that she wasn't ready if me made himself out to be a threat. He glanced over at her before putting the car into drive.
"I don't know, Shadowhunter. You tell me." He rolls the car forward, stopping not far from another passenger from the plane. "And there is the other passenger. Leaving the car in drive he steps out to greet her.
From what Harlow could tell, she was tense. Just my the way her body reacted, the tensing of certain muscles gave her away as being a Shadowhunter; a paranoid one at that. She was dressed in the greys and blacks that were standard amongst her kind. She noticed that she was being stared at, and stared back, positive that Scott would give her the information the easy way. This would be her partner, she had to remind herself, try to be nice.
With that thought in mind she offered a smile and slight wave to the woman outside of the car just as Scott looked back at her. Harlow felt accomplished when the other female offered a small wave back. It seemed like a foot in the right direction. Harlow continued to study the straight-laced woman as Scott pointed out the stains on her shirt and jacket sleeves, ichor. No wonder she looked so tense. She fought on her way over.
After a few more moments Scott seemed to remember his job and took her run-of-the-mill suitcase to the truck. Only after missing a beat did her new partner enter the vehicle. The young Briar instantly knew that this would be an interesting car ride.
Turning in her seat she offered out a hand, "I'm Harlow Briar."
"Zuriel Greyhallow. But you can call me Zurie." Harlow wasn't the least bit surprised by the firm grip she had been given once Zurie's hand grasped her own. After holding the woman's grey eyes in a stare she flashed her a smile, purposely showing her teeth - if only because she was curious as to see the angel-named Shadowhunter's reaction to her sharpened canines.
"Are you sure that you a Shadowhunter? Because frankly you don't look like you belong here." That was not something she expected to fall from Zuriel Greyhallow's mouth. She would have at least expected someone that looked like her to be a bit more refined. All Harlow could do was grin at her, this girl clearly has no idea what she has gotten herself signed up for.
"Indeed, I am a ShadowHunter, ." Her hazel eyes danced as she picked up her own formal speech and she brought the top of her tank top down slightly to show the thick scar of the rune for painlessness over her heart. "And there is your proof."
"Just because you are marked doesn't mean you are a true shadowhunter." The disdain was distinct and sharp when Zurie spoke again shaking her head. For a few moments, Harlow was at a loss for words. Then she laughed bitterly, giving her new compadre an equally bitter grin.
"Well, I guess I'll just have to have fun proving you wrong."
"You ladies playing nicely?" Scott asked rather jovially as he reentered the car, fixing his seat belt into place.
"No. In fact, I have no hope for this partnership working out. I mean, she obviously has no respect for the Shadowhunter code of conduct." Came Zurie's immediate response. Scott just managed to make eye-contact with said girl in the rearview mirror, a retort ready on his lips, before Harlow answered.
Dragging her eyes away from the person sitting behind her, she looked to Scott. "I'm sorry. I'm not entirely sure I know how to play nicely."
There was a beat of silence as he turned to look at her, a single eyebrow raised. Harlow gave him and innocent look, only betrayed by the perpetual playfulness in her eyes, "Won't you teach me?"
Scott erupted into laughter and turned to face the road again, pulling away from the airport. "You two will definitely be an interesting addition to our small town of Laramie."