14674/Teaching a Young Pup New Tricks

Teaching a Young Pup New Tricks
Date of Scene:	13 April 2023
Location:	Third Floor Workspaces
Synopsis:	Sara takes some time to help scent train Belinda's wolfy side.
Cast of Characters:	Belinda Gutierrez, Sara Pezzini

---

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Life is forever learning. Even things known and part of one's being since childhood can stil be improved with time and training; if anything in life is certain, Belinda Gutierrez is certain of that! Forever adores her Happy Harbor teachers for their wisdom. And today, a different kind of training!

"Thank you for helping me, Ms. Pezzinin," Belinda says sheepishly.... grinning ten feet wide as she bounces eagerly from foot to foot. "I mean, I am sure I wasn't go to do something silly like plan a trip to Gotham or the Bowery or anything to sniff out what I could and..." She pauses, biting her lip with a cough, a blush. "Well, that might be construed as wrong, illegal, and I do not want to be thrown into jail and prison and be dissected for bits and bobs and things and have all my sangre-- er, my blood drained out." She pauses. "I need all my blood for living. It is very important."

Longer pause. Quiver. Eager! "Are you sure there is nothing I can do to help set up?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Dressed in her usual clothing for work with the NYPC, that being newish jeans, a sleeveless turtleneck shirt and a leather jacket, Sara goes about setting things up as she listens to Belinda. There's a smile on the Detective's face over the rambling of an excited teenager, it had been a long time since she heard it.

"First off, I got this," she offers with a gesture to setting things up. "Secondly, neither the GPD nor the NYPD dissect prisoners. The truth is, they would arrest you and immediately call me, if they knew what you were... most likely they'd just think you were a human."

"There is a fine line being established these days, between common citizens, such as your average every day human... vigilantes like the Batfamily, and of course true heroes like Captain America, Black Panther, Superman, etc." she continues to explain, double checking her work before looking back to Belinda. "New York has something called 'citizen's arrest', and honestly that is being claimed and used by more super powered individuals these days. Remember that, you can always subdue and arrest someone using it."

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Belinda nods gravely, attention far too focused as she struggles to draw herself under control. Not as super bouncy eager as she appears. Though she would likely be fanning her tail ninety miles a minute, had she one at the time. She draws a long breath, pursing her lips as she exhales, listens earnestly. "I know that," she says respectfully, "But that doesn't stop the nightmares, sometimes. Like cops with knives sneaking to the dorm rooms, because knives with big long serrrated blades and sharp, shadowy parts are always more scary than guns, and mostly for mi familia to be safe, and everyone knows that Batman does not exist! Urban myth. Like chupacabra, only more... batty. Pointy ears. Scowly!"

She blushes as she shrugs out of her jacket, lips twitching with a quick giggle. "Like werewolves and witches and fairies. I am rambling, aren't I?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Finishing up the last of the preparation, Sara offers a broad grin as she says, "Maybe a little rambly, but it's okay, you seem excited and ready to go. Nothing wrong with that."

Walking back over to Belinda, she tucks her hands into the pockets of her jacket. "You do realize all those things actually do exist, right?" she then asks, wanting to make sure that the girl has even the most basic of magical education. "Even Batman."

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Belinda nods quietly, smile fading as she bows her head with a sigh. "Yes," she says somberly, "Though I have never seen faeries or Batpeople." No comment about Chupacabra. "Though for the rest, there is a lot to learn I keep finding. Checked out the mythology books from the school library, and reading up on stuff from home and around and Ireland and Japan." Pause passed, she continues to step out of her slippered shoes, tugging off her shirt to reveal the blue leotard beneath.

Full of holes. Torn fabric. Ripped lycra. Bullet holes. Obviously seen better days.

"...Still working on finding a new one," she adds with a warm tingle on her cheeks. "This one is kinda... tatty."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
The honest truth is that Sara lacks full knowledge of what Belinda can do, and she's not going to start prying into the girl's business just yet. That leotard though, it gets a brow raise.

Do we need to go shopping?" is what she offers a grin. "Cause I know some places that have cheap clothing for replacing the rip, shred, tear that happens... and trust he, I know all about rip, shred and tear."

She sighs a little at that, then folds her arms across her chest. "So what's your plan here?"

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Belinda blushes hotly, that warm glow growing as she nods glumly. Knows all about spending most of one's money on replacement clothing! Shakes head-- focus!

"I can smell things better than people, even as me," she explains, sliding out of her jeans before gather them together. "But as wolf-- as Silver..." She slows for a moment, folding shirt and jeans, packing them to a simpole pile upon a wicker chair. Gardenware, ironically inside

"...I'm pretty sure I can match even dogs," she continues on, nodding as she stretches. Setting the small domino mask atop the pile of clothes, she turns evenly. "Try to identify each sample under the boxes by letter," she explains, "Describing what they smell like. Planty, powdery, sharp, etc." Sh tenses. "Then, identify what are drugs, explosives, things common but still strong, like coffee, garlic, bleach--" She grimaces, shuddering. "Bleach is the worst. So strong! Muerte to mi nariz. Death to the nose!"

She tenses, a glance to Ms. Pezzini. "This might sound... icky."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara shakes her head, "No, you can't do anything that would be considered icky to me. I've seen too much." She then moves back a little to make sure Belinda has the room she needs, who knows what does into the young lady changing?

"I know what is under each box," she then says. "Keep in mind that if we continue this, there are things far worse than bleach that are used to block the scenes of explosives and drugs... but for now, each this is just what it is, no scent concealers. It's important to learn the base scents first... so, what sort of reward?" she can't help but grin mischievously at this. "I buy you a bacon burger for every one you get right?"

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
The young woman nods, turning her attention back to the boxes and packages before she focuses. Shivers. Steps foward...

    ...changes...

        Skin shivers, ripples-- bone audibly crackles, creaks; muscle vibrates beneath swelling flesh, slithering and reweaving and reworking. Ears stretch up the sides of her head, itself splintering and reforming in a brief, skinless horro-- swiftly covered with fur and flesh, nightmare muzzle and fang and bone resheathed in living frame. Muscle and strength, size and tooth and claw, all surging to grand and glorious height.

Exhaling like a forge bellows, Silverdane quivers with the renewed excitement, bright eyes gleaming shards of green at the mention of reward. Or bacon. Maybe burger.

FOOD.

"...nnnno disss--" She coughs a rough, low chuckle, reaching up to press her jaw with a grimace. "..no distracting, yet! And jaw. Always jaw." She grins as sheepishly as an eight foot wolfwoman can, grinning as she turns, focuses---

"....woah," she breathes, eyes widening in shock. "Coffee. Garlic powder. Garlic plant! Paprika. Onions. Old onions, going to rot soon." She blinks, pleased with herself. Sniffing from where she stands across the room, ears perking forward in wonder, curiosity. "...something plantlike. Sweetish. Cannabis?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Aaaaand now Sara has seen one more thing she's never seen before, however it was not disgusting as others might call it, to her it was a fascinating process. There was a time in her life that seeing a human turn into a werewolf would have sent her screaming into an asylum, then Witchblade came into her life and things like that became normal.

Watching Belinda, though she had mentioned this form had another name... Silver, was it? Watching Silver make her way to the first box, while at the same time picking up numerous scents, a brow raised. Focus might be an issue here.

"You're correct about the first box," she answered with a grin. "You should also be able to smell the dirt it was grown in." She is not going to explain how she knows about that.

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Silverdane quirks an ear back to Sara's comment, focusing more intently as her nose quivers. Going to work!

"...grrreenhouse," she says slowly, rough voice evening out as time passes. "....Greenhouse," she says again, more confident. "Fertilizer. Water was..." Pause, sniff, scent. "...recycled. Not smell of city faucet. Waterhose?" Hazarding a guess, she considers the box for another few seconds before moving to the next. Grinning in bemusement. "Garlic powder," she says with a grin of certainty. "Still in bottle. Top probably taken off!" She stays carefullky back from the boxes, straining to hone scenting's keenness, stepping forward at the third with a head-tilted frown.

"...bullets?" she guesses hesitantly, sniffing again. "...bullet box? Empty, but held lots of shells short time ago?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Training a K-9 was entirely different then training a werewolf, that much Sara picked up on the second Silver spoke. K-9s didn't speak, you have to know their body language and teach them commands to respond to, where as Silver just sniffed along, reported verbally what scents she was picking up, and kept going. It was easier to some degree, but also not, as Sara couldn't smell any of the things.

"Second box was a trip up of garlic powder," she offered, canting her head as Silver moved right on to the third box. "There really is no tricking your nose, at least not yet."

The third box was in fact one of those choices that K-9 units had a great deal of trouble with. Bullets were scents by the gunpowder and metal, but if there was any other metal around, it got more difficult to actually identify, and Silver nailed it in one. "I have the shells in my pocket right now. That's a tricky one usually, well done."

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Some things never change between species-- tail wagging is a suspicously good giveaway! Silverdane/Belinda stifles her delight however, focusing on the test and the lesson. "Thank you," she says with pleasure, moving to the next box--- pause. Blink. Long pause.

"...I haven ever smelled this one before," she says carefully, stepping to one side, the other, scenting anew at different angles. The great cheer of before replaced in a heartbeat with utter intensity. She kneels down before the table and the box, drawing level as she regards it carefully. "Motor oil. Lightweight oil, like used in weeders. Not diluted, mixed with gasoline as would before using."

She pauses, hovering intently. "...metal. Nails." Pause, glancing back with a shiver.

"Does not have gunpowder smell, but... pressure cooker. Or pipe bomb?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara was intrigued by the process Silver went through with each scent. There was logical thinking to it, working out the levels of scent such as with the motor oil, and the fact that she was able to determine the varying levels, it was all extremely fascinating to the NYPD Detective.

"You are partly correct," she states, this time pulling out a diagram and walking over to show Silver just how the IED is constructed. "There is a pressure cooker, and all the scents you picked up on were spot on. This is a home made IED, with no primer. Too dangerous to put the primer in place, even for training purposes. I will provide you with the primer scent another time, couldn't sign any out right now."

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Silver nods slowly, briefly spooked seeing an IED so close and intimately before her nose. She glances to the side, chuffing a sneeze before she nods again, rumbling in thoughtful curiosity. A last look, a sharp scent at the pseudo-weapon -- remembering, committing to memory --moving on to the next box with a quiet gingerness in her step as she moves over. And steps back, a grimace on her features as her ear sslant down. Too close for proper testing! And she perks anew-- curiosity!

"...a cook's apron!" she exclaims, giggling with laughter. Comical-- a girl's brief titter from an eight foot furbeast! Even if low and growly at moments. "Cooking grease and pickles and mustard and onions," she begins, tongue lolling in bemusement. "He--" *sniffsniff-sniffa-sniff* "--he cooked chicken and fish and burger meat from cow and emu and, ever so rarely, a cat." She grimaces, souring. "...and bacon. Bacon and cheese on everything!"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Cat? That was not on the list of things the cook told Sara he's cooked while wearing the apron... and emu? The hell was an emu?! She blinks a few times, then nudges Silver, "Right on to the next box, right now, don't pause."

It was a test, to see if Silver could focus on the next box right after smelling all those delicious things... but seriously... cat and emu?!

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Silverdane is well and truly distracted! For about a moment-- she grins, humming softly before she refocuses her attentions on the next kit, eyeing the box with rapt, quizzical determination. Alarm briefly flickers across her features before her eyes narrow, long breaths drawn more intently.

"....old blood," she says softly, biting her lip. She settles back to her haunches, pursing her lips as she exhales slowly. She shivers briefly before she draws scent again, focusing with care. "Scraped up from a concrete surface, so-- warehouse, or unfinished building without flooring yet? Lots of alcohol there, too..." She grimaces, shivering with revulsion. "LOTS of alcohol. Blood came from male, drunk as skunk, who probably slipped and fell down and busted his nose on floor." Pause. "I think?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Training away distractions was part of the process, but Silver had done very well in moving on. Sara nodded and moved on to the next box with her, watching more intently the werewolves body language. It was slightly similar to human body language and yet entirely different, and all the while Witchblade was actually silent, watching, listening... he was interested in this creature, and not in his usual 'want to kill it' way.

"You are right, though the wound was on his face as well as his nose, and the alcohol was both /in/ his blood and all over the ground," she explains carefully. "Can you determine which kind of alcohol? Most K-9 units can only tell the difference between beer and spirits, so I'm curious how much detail you get."

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Silverdane shakes her head, grimacing as she rumbles quietly. "Am only sixteen," she admits with a wry humour. "Mi abuela threatened to make me eat soap if I ever so much as dared drink Communion wine before proper age." She rubs her nose with a barely-suppressed giggle, fading into a sigh as she nods. "But... Beer." She scrunches up her features, brow furrowed as she thinks hard. Unaware of the 'Blade's keen 'observations', tail wagging absently, slowly as she ponders. "Cheap beer, with lots of..." She gestures briefly, helplessly. "...that beery-smelling stuff. My uncle used to drink very much; the smell was on him, in him, in everything he wore or was on. His bed, his chair, his clothes." She snorts, shaking her head with a grrrmph. "He got better, but... ick. Beery smell."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara nods again, taking note that she does not want to tick off Silver's Abuela. She might be an Italian American, but even she knew what a la chancla was and that an Abuela would use it on anyone in the house, family or not.

"Yes, it was some seriously cheep beer," she states. "I'll get you some test scents of other alcohols without actually giving you alcohol. There is no way I'm pissing your Abuela off, nope, not me, not doing it."

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Silverdanme giggles-- she covers her muzzle with both hands, the whole of her quivering as she nods! "She has a cane," she explains, eyes sparkling with fond joy. "And she would swat mi herman-- er, my brothers withj it when they were being foolish! Or me, when I got too uppity once. Or twice." She grins sheepishly, panting with quiet laughter. "Her eyesight is not so good anymore, but she knows how to make the *best* cornbread. Secret family recipe!" She raises her head, beaming with pride. "One day, I will learn how, but for now-- salsas!"

She pauses, glancing at the last box with a quiet humour. "....bacon from the local corner store down the street!"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
"Yep, one pound of raw bacon," Sara chuckles. "And no, I have no idea why I decided to use that one. Next time, I'll get my hands on some of the more exotic drugs out there, give your nose a real challenge."

She folds the schematic of the IED back up, and tucks it in the pocket with the bullets. A slight tinkle sound is heard as the bullets tap against each other and are forced to make room for the paper. "How serious are you about learning the varies scents of 'dangerous things'?"

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
The werewolf woman nods, straightening into an attentive posture as she gazes intently. "I have super sniffer," she says earnestly, tapping herslef beside the nout with a long finger. "But... not experience." She rumbles a sigh, shaking her head before she refocuses once again. "So-- yes. Very much, please! Can be useful, helpful, not--" She grins crookedly, glancing away. "--not be 'ccused of chasing cars and frisbees and balls. Or scaring people by pretending to be la Chupacabra on Halloween."

She glances back, mischief flaring in her eyes. "So. Much. Candy."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara cants her head, hmming softly as she considers. She was aware of the things that were stocked on the shelves in the building, and hoped that those things were used for magical purposes and not what her brain assumed they were used for. It was a difficult time figuring out where Sara Pezzini NYPD officer ended, and Sara Pezzini, Wielder of Witchblade began.

"Teaching you to scent track the more illicit drugs out there won't be a problem," she finally says with a nod. "I will need to know who your guardian is, if you have one. I realize that some kids with special abilities such as yours don't have guardians for numerous reasons, which if you don't that's fine, we'll just find a loophole and make it work... I mean, come one... there's nothing in any law book about a Werewolf learning to scent track."

A bright smile if offered at the end of this statement, and Sara even winks. "You let me worry about the legality of all this, alright?"

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Silverdane giggles again, nodding before she draws a long breath. Focus, anew--eyes closed as she is quiet, drinking in the seconds.

The change back, the reversion, is less striking, startling, painful looking-- less horrific than the first appeared to be. Thick fur shivers like a forest of a thousand tiny snakes as it silently restracts, supple slitherings vanishing beneath the skin. Bone crackles, crinkles-- like tiny pieces chipping off, renewing as muscle gently shrinks beneath her skin, smoothing from powerful, lithe muscle to mere teenager's slender frame. Teeth bare as her lips peel back; the muzzle too then shortens, scrunches, teeth shorteniong fraom a shark's merciless grin to simply human. As with teeth, so too claws-- razored fingers quiver an dshrink, claws flaking away, fragments on the air as her hands revert to human.

Size melts to smaller frame, and her lungfs work once more as swift bellows-- a runner's soft gasp, drawn in and exhaled as she shivers with a faint, sweating gleam.

"It will be wonderful, Senora Pezzini," Belinda answer, wiping her brow as she rises, grinning joyfully from ear to ear. Happiness, radiant! "Nothing would give me more pleasure, and bring honor to mi familia." She dips in a curtsey-- straightening back up with a blush, smoothing her hands over her (mostly) leotard.

"Uhm. Do you have any suggestion for something that might *not* tear to pieces when shot and stabbed and set on fire? Because...."

She gestures, taking in the tattered fabric. Once suit, now...

Sara Pezzini has posed:
The fascination that Sara feels is matched by Witchblade's over the process that takes place before them. Human to werewolf, then werewolf to human. It looked painful, and yet there was no indication of that pain, or perhaps the young girl was used to it.

"Actually, I might have a couple ideas about that," she admits with a smile. "Oh, and call me Sara.." She walks over to start collecting the materials.

"There are a couple of materials on the market for military use that hold up against against knives and small caliber bullets," she then explains. "They aren't quite as light weight as your leotard, but they are lighter than the average bullet proof vest."

There is a pause there and Belinda can, for the first time, sense a change in the woman. For one brief moment her eyes glass over as if she is high on something, but it passes quickly. "Witchblade has a better idea that will likely work a great deal better for you," she continues as if she never paused at all. "Let's get you a nice leotard, something with long sleeves, the works... and then we'll see about getting a weapon and fire ward put on it."

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Belinda slowly rises, quivering before she takes a long stretch. A moment's glance in curiosity marks the odd behavior... bhut thoughts ar eher own, sliding away as water from a duck's back. "Thank you. And her! Him? Uh... Mr. Blade?" She grins sheepishly, turning back to move over to the pile of clothes, folded neatly upon the seat. "Lightweight I would be grateful for, but it is not as... important, as other things." She tosses out her shirt with a flump, exhaling with care before she tugs her shirt over her head. "I got it a little before I left to come to the Ciudad. City. New York. It was an old dress outfit. It was smooth, sleek, fit under clothes, was *stretchy*..."

She stifles a giggle as it escapes, a groan as she tenses, flexes, eases her toes. "Then--" She tugs her jeans about, sitting down in the chair before slipping into them. "--it worked for a while. I was invincible! Mostly. Good enough to be, anyway." Her smile turns crooked, and she exhales a grumble. "However, I discovered that my *clothes* were not so invincible. Things that I could laugh off left..." She gestures, lips twitching. "...impressions on the suit. So anything that could replace it and not leave one walking around like an uncivilized manica--!"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
For what appears to be no reason at all, Sara starts laughing at Belinda explains about her clothing and called Witchblade, 'Mister Blade'. She can't help it, she understands the loss of clothing far better than most would.

"Just call him W.B.," she chuckles. "His energy and consciousness is male, but he's no Mister. He can list several possible rituals to place on clothing to make it more resilient, also known as, weapon resistant. He even knows one that a witch or wizard can perform that will just have the clothing repair itself. Keep in mind, he won't teach me these."

Another burst of laughter from her, before she finishes boxing up the items used for scent training. "So if you want a specific look, let's do some shopping online, find you exactly what you want, and then we'll see about an enchantment or two."

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Belinda giggles, bringing herself back under control as she nods with a joyuful grin on her face. "If it does not bother him," she answers, "I may call him Mr. W.B. on many occasions. I do not mean to disrespect his wishes, but--" SHe shrugs helplessly, bending her head. "Mi madre spoke often of courtesy and manners, and this is what I know. And enforced with stern look, glower, and-- if necessary--" She gestures to her feet, scrunching up her features comically as she raises her hand to throw an unseen sandle.

LA CHANCLA.

Grinning cheerfully, she comes over to offer aid in helping clean up. "Perhaps something halfway top elbow?" she suggest, working with care. "I try to keep the... everything, trimmed down, but with all the fur, too many clothes get too hot so fast." She rolls her eyes, brooding thoughtfully. "Longer leggings..." She stores her thoughts aside, smiling ruefully. "Thank you again. It is most kind, and my purse would be grateful as well. It is hard enough replacing civvie clothes, damaged by emergency shifting!"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
"When it comes to losing clothing, you are speaking to the one person who gets it," Sara states with a slight smirking smile. "Witchblade /loves/ to destroy my clothing, and so far nothing I've tried lasts. A few suggestions have been made, but he just laughs."

Checking one last time to make certain she has cleaned up everything, she hoists the box up with ease. "Take some time, search the internet, find what you want and then I'll give you a charge card to put it on. We'll get you super heroed up in no time at all." After a brief pause she then says, "Mister WB will be fine... the la chancla is very real."