The wind blew on his long hair as he rode his bike around town, trying to find a place to kill the evening that he wouldn't look alien in. Having dropped his duffle bag an hour earlier in a motel room that he was positive had been use for drug deals not long ago, he wandered the streets of Vibora bay. The town looked rather similar to New Orleans on Mardi Gras... If you added the eery fog and the strange tingling of omnipresent magical energy...
He didn't aim to come here, he had merely left the city after some relationship problems... Sandra missed him, but it was better for her and Sigs that he was no longer there. Parking his old Harley next to a rundown bar, he went inside and let his eyes probe the area, the customers looked to be in a shape fitting for the place. All of them spending their night at the bottom of their drink, only a few chatted with the others in a low voice.
As he sat at the empty table in the corner, between two open windows letting a fresh breeze making the suffocating heat tolerable, the bar's only waitress approached saying in a nervous voice "Eh... Mr... you don't want to sit there..." to which the Garou in his homid form responded "It... it's... Wulf's table..." Changing the subject on her, he told her to get him a buck of beer. When she came back, Daniel absently thanked her and sipped his drink. Getting lost in his thoughts, he didn't even notice the beer's horrible taste...
He pondered for what seemed an eternity, he couldn't go back,if he did, the rage would overpower him... in the corner, he shivered in memory of what happened to poor Izzy all those years ago, at night, he could still feel the blood on his claws from what happened all those years ago. It would be the same with Sandra even if it meant leaving her forever and staying alone in this town.
After half an hour brooding in his corner barely sipping his drink, he heard the sound of the door being slammed open with strength and he saw fro the corner of his eyes a trio of hairy, bulky brutes coming at his table. Before one of them could speak he declared "Piss off" to the men.
"That be our table, Pal" Said the leader of the three. looking up, Daniel probed the guy... Tattoos, scars, leather jacket and biker boots. The men reminded him of the horsemen, but he quickly threw that idea out when the Head honcho continued his sentence. After pointing to Dan's own jacket he made a motion of his hands embracing the crummy bar "And that be OUR place. Now, get outta here by yerself or in a body-bag"
"Look, I had a fuckin' horrible week and I ain't going to let you add more to the shit pile. Get another table or Scram!"
The bikers busted out laughing before him Contributing to strengthen the nervousness of the crowd. "This is Dogz territory fella an' we gotta make you ain't forgetting anytime soon..." Declared one of the subordinate,
An instant passed in silence... Which broke suddenly when one of the henchmen of the guy he presumed was Wulf swung his fist at Daniel, only to be cut short when this one charged him, Ramming his head strait into his exposed stomach. Falling down, Dannie following him to the ground. He clumsily got up only to take a strait right on the nose. As he sensed his nose crack and a war liquid flowing down to his lips.
He couldn't take the three of them like this. He wasn't all that used to human form, he had always preferred to be in his native battle form... When he saw them pulling out knives, he didn't have any choice left. Stirring up the primal rage within him, his shape swiftly transformed into the Half man-half-beast of legends, standing at nine feet not even counting his massive antlers, sprouting from the micro horn he hid with his hair...
Pouncing onto the nearest guy, he savagely rained his fists upon him until his face was a bloody pulp. The other two wailed on him but he Ignored them. When he finally arose letting a furious roar out, he saw Wulf and his thug backs off...
But to Daniel's shock, the bikers only did so to shift in turn! in mere seconds the two were like him, werewolves... The shit had just hit the fan, holding his hand to them, he conjured flames to them, forcing them to move away or risk being burned... As the flames diminished and he still held some much smaller flames in his hands, he said "Take you friend an leave or next time I'm doing it for real" His opponents glanced at each others before agreeing...
When the men left, he took a minute to relax on to be interrupted with the sound of metal hitting something... Rushing outside, he saw his bike, a 1982 Harley-Davidson FXB Sturgis he inherited from his father tossed in the thrash bin after being hit several times... Seeing the bikers get away, he yelled "Fine! If it's war you want!"
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It took me a while to finish this, I kept getting distracted. Hopefully I'll be able to continue this.
Inspiration: Daniel leaving Sandra and Sigs due to some major problem with the latter
Words: 880
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