THE CONCLAVE, MYCEANUM DISTRICT - 9:52 AM

Jonathan drummed his heels against the side of the brick wall he was currently straddling. His heel was tangling the ivy but he didn't care. He propped his elbow up on his knee and leaned his chin on his fist. This waiting was so boring. The Mayor had sent word a few hours ago that leadership had a five days to chose their representatives or the Mayor would chose for them. That was incentive enough to get on top of this and comprehend that the Mayor was not messing around. The Mayor had never been this involved with the inter-gang politics alone. They normally left it alone, since they primarily benefited from the various arrangements and alliances. Jonathan tapped his chin. The Hood-Beak war twenty-three years back really had messed up Castellum City bad. Jonathan couldn't remember much of it. He'd been born not long after the treaty was signed and the alliance was formed.

He remembered his mother talking about how hard it had been. His mother had been a witch, before she was killed by friendly fire in a skirmish when Jonathan was sixteen. It had been rough, both her death and dealing with the aftermath. She'd been close to Thomasin, so Thomasin naturally extended her maternal instincts to include Jonathan as well as her feisty son. Jonathan owed a lot to Thomasin.

Thomasin had also entrusted Jonathan with a very important mission, and although it looked like he was currently dilly-dallying and lollygagging, he was actually in the middle of a stakeout.

Jonathan caught a glimpse of someone moving through the garden, fenced in by the wall he was straddling. He sat up straighter to get a better look. Once confirming it was who he thought it was, Jonathan swung his leg over and dropped into the garden, not bothering to be particularly careful where he stepped especially because all he was stepping in was kudzu.

"Raina!" he called, sauntering casually over to the other witch. Raina Eskandar paused and turned to face him, eyebrow quirking. Jonathan grinned at her. "If it isn't my favorite trippy dippy little witchy. How are you, Raina? Thriving? Looking beautiful as always?"

Raina scoffed, rolling her eyes, and continued to walk towards her shop, but Jonathan spotted the smile trying to escape nonetheless.

"What are you doing here, Jonathan?" she asked good-naturedly. Jonathan clapped his hands together once and rubbed his palms.

"Raina, I am thrilled you asked me that, not gonna lie!" Jonathan ignored Raina's muttered oh, boy, and continued. "As I am sure you have heard by now, because your shop is so very popular, and a witch isn't a witch if they don't love to blab, we gangs are in a shit load of trouble. Honestly, it's all the parasites and the mutts' fault."

"Don't be crude, Jon," Raina admonished. Jonathan flapped a hand at her and continued.

"Anyway, so because the Fangs and the Claws can't keep it in their pants, our beloved Mayor has told leadership to send five people from each gang to some shady compound outside Castellum City for three months to work something out. Personally, I don't understand why the rest of us are supposed to go unless it's to keep the Fangs and the Claws from ripping each other to shreds." Jonathan paused. "Yeah, it's probably because of that."

Jonathan jumped ahead of Raina and pushed her shop door open for her so she wouldn't have to adjust any of the things she was carrying.

"Why are you here, Jonathan?" Raina asked, though Jonathan knew she could probably guess.

"Well," Jonathan said, "Thomasin thinks you would be a good choice."

Raina paused as she set her basket of herbs on the countertop.

"Really?"

"Yes. A level-headed third party. Good for keeping people steady."

Raina clicked her tongue.

"I guess if Thomasin wants me to go, I'll go."

"She hasn't made the final decision yet, just so you know," Jonathan added. He turned around to leave, pausing in the doorway to look over his shoulder at her. He gave her a crooked grin. "But I'll let her know."

Jonathan made his way through and out of Raina's walled in garden on the outskirts of the Conclave, the Beaks' base of operations where a good majority of the gang lived and worked. He picked up the pace when he reached the uneven cobblestone street and jogged up the road to the cathedral that was adjunct to the rest of the compound. He should go tell Thomasin but also…

Jonathan took a left turn and headed towards the Wharf. He should get a feel for the rest of the gangs, if they were anxious or eager, if the air seemed to hold extra tension or not. The day was sunny, almost inappropriately so. Sunny days in Castellum City were few and far between, and the bright, clear skies the morning after dangerous news felt like an omen. Jonathan didn't know what kind of omen, though, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Pushing his misgivings out of his head, Jonathan tried to enjoy the pleasant weather as he walked briskly through the streets of Castellum City. He made his way out of the witch district and into the Gorluan District, where the population was more mixed and diverse, and the streets were home to shops and street vendors. There wasn't too much gang activity in Gorluan. This was were the City Watch were patrolling to keep the peace and prevent thieving. As Jonathan headed towards the wharf in the Scylian District, however, the Watch began to thin out until the only people on the street besides Jonathan were busy workers who threw suspicious glances at anyone they didn't recognize. He tried not to take it personally when a mother and child crossed the street instead of passing him, then ducked down an alley to take a shortcut down to the docks.

Jonathan was thrown against the wall before he realized what was happening, all the breath rushing from his lungs by the impact against the rough bricks. The back of his head hit the bricks, instantly disorienting him and he squeezed his eyes shut as everything went sideways. Two hands fisted in his shirt keeping him upright, jostling him until he slowly cracked his eyes open. He recognized his assailants - all three of them - as Hoods, but they couldn't have been anyone important. He had no idea who they were.

Jonathan coughed and forced the words out between wheezing breathes:

"Is that- any way to treat your… your guest?"

His head might have been full but he wasn't stupid enough to forget the territory lines. The Hoods guarded their territory as jealously as the wolves did.

The man holding him up sneered, looked him up and down.

"Nah, you're no guest of ours, Styker." He jostled him roughly. "The Hoods don't take kindly to traitors."

"Ah!" Jonathan said brightly, though the world was still spinning and he couldn't take a whole breath. "So you do remember my father."

Abruptly, Jonathan realized he was about to get thrown to the ground but it never came. Instead, the man reeled his arm back and punched Jonathan in the face, stepping back to let him drop to the ground, and onto the concrete stairs leading into the building that Jonathan hadn't noticed to the left of him. The landing hurt like hell. The corners of the stairs seemed to fit between his ribs. It felt like something had come loose in his head.

Achingly, Jonathan pushed up onto his hands. He reached up to wipe his nose, and his knuckles came away bloody. Oh man. Had those idiots just made a mistake. If they were smart, they would have rushed him while he was down. But they probably were looking to gloat or intimidate. Unfortunately, they had apparently never encountered Jonathan in a fight.

Jonathan slowly lifted his head, licked away the blood that had smeared across his top lip, and grinned. The Hoods were visibly taken aback. Jonathan staggered to his feet, flexed his fingers. He tilted his head at the three of them.

"You know," he said conversationally, "you really shouldn't have done that." He sniffed, wiping his nose again.

"Don't you," the Hood that had shoved Jonathan around began, "don't you know who we are?" He was trying to threaten Jonathan, but there was a tremor in his voice that betrayed him.

"Honestly?" Jonathan said, rolling his neck. "I haven't the faintest idea."

And Jonathan launched himself at the closest Hood to him.

He didn't need magic for this fight. His threw his whole body at the the Hood, aiming for his waist and tackling him to the ground before he could shift. The impact of his tackle slammed the guy's head into the sidewalk and he was out like a light. Jonathan lurched to his feet and spun, raising his fists to protect his head. The other two had spread out so he couldn't take them both at the same time, not without using magic. The woman began shifting into what looked like it was probably a snake while the man who had attacked Jonathan originally rolled his neck and rushed Jonathan.

Shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet, Jonathan prepared to take the full brunt of the man's attack before spinning out of the way at the last second. He left his foot planted and shoved as the man tried valiantly to stop his momentum, but it was a futile attempt, and he went sprawling facedown on the cobblestones. Jonathan left his assailant to try and regain his footing and turned his attention to what was, in fact, a boa constrictor rapidly making her way towards his feet. Try as she might, though, Jonathan was well versed in fighting a variety of animals, and executed a number of quick steps as she attacked his ankles. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the first man climbing to his feet and preparing to attack again. Jonathan waited for the snake to lunge again, and then dove as her head shot past his ankles, wrapping his fingers around the back of her head, effectively immobilizing her.

Scrambling to his feet, Jonathan whirled, holding the snake out to the first man.

"If you even think about trying, I'll tear her head off," Jonathan snarled. His blood still raced through his veins, adrenaline and anger lingering disorientation making his arms shake with the effort to stop running and fighting. The man paled and took an aborted step back. The snake twitched in his hands. "Why the hell did you attack me? Was it my father? Answer me!" Jonathan demanded when the man didn't do anything but quiver in fear.

"No, no! It wasn't your- please don't kill her, she's my friend," he said, holding out his hands and completely abandoning his train of thought. Amatuers, Jonathan scoffed mentally. He scowled.

"I'm still considering," he snapped. "Who sent you?"

"No one, no one!"

Jonathan tightened his hold on the snake's neck.

"You sure about that?"

"Fine, it was Annabelle! Annabelle told us to watch out for you and tell you to stay out of the way."

Jonathan's foul mood only worsened, but he let go of the snake and tossed her down.

"Get out of my sight," he growled. The man let the boa constrictor climb into his arms and then they turned and ran the other way. Jonathan scowled to himself, turning and walking the opposite direction as the Hoods goons. He brushed his shirt and jacket off aggressively, shook gravel and dust out of his hair and glared at the fresh bloodstains on the cuff of his sleeve. It was a new jacket too. He was hoping it would be awhile before it got bloodstained. Jonathan licked at his top lip and tasted dried blood. He probably looked like shit. Hopefully it would at least keep anyone else from harassing.

Jonathan turned the corner at the exit of the alley and ran right into someone. Fucking hell, Jonathan swore mentally.

"Ah, shit," said the person he'd run into. They'd grabbed his elbows to steady him. Jonthan was perhaps more affected from getting his head hit than he'd originally thought. He took a step back and waited for the person to release him, and then looked up.

It was the werewolf that had caught sight of him last night, as blonde and broad as Jonathan had thought, wavy blond hair glinting in the sunlight and brushing against his forehead. He had a thin scar crossing the left side his jaw, and another bisecting his left eye. His eyes were a sharp amber, keen and sharp in the sunlight. The werewolf narrowed his eyes.

"You were at the brawl last night," he said. Straight to the point apparently. No beating around the bush or asking why there was blood all over Jonathan's nose and mouth. Jonathan arranged a deranged grin on his face and stared back at the wolf. He was a few inches taller than Jonathan.

"I can't believe you remembered me. I knew we had something special," Jonathan said, watching as the werewolf let his lips part so he could scent the air. He would smell nothing but blood.

"Should I be worried about this?" the werewolf asked, frowning and gesturing at Jonathan's gruesome appearance. Jonathan's grin widened.

"Probably."

The werewolf's expression did not change. He still stared at Jonathan with a frown and a suspicious look.

"Lev!" someone shouted from behind Jonathan. The werewolf didn't move, but he broke his gaze with Jonathan to look over his shoulder. Another person approached at a quick pace but Jonathan did not look away from the werewolf - Lev. He didn't know why but he had a feeling this werewolf would be very interesting to keep an eye on. "Lev, is there a problem?"

Jonathan took a single step back.

"Nope," he said, instead of waiting for Lev to respond. Then Jonathan turned around and slipped away down the street. He could feel two sets of eyes on him as he made his way quickly down the street. He should head back to the Conclave. He needed to talk to Thomasin.

it is getting interesting folkssss. deadline for the forms is April 30th at the very latest, but i'd appreciate it if you can get them to me before then! also the wolf that ran into Lev at the end just now was Skol, tyozzie123's oc! everyone say thanks oz!