16387/Harlem Nightsong

Harlem Nightsong
Date of Scene:	21 November 2023
Location:	Mercy's Garage
Synopsis:	Two weres meet up, shares birthday cake! And explore the world of were-things-- turns out more to know that Belinda ever realized!
Cast of Characters:	Belinda Gutierrez, Mercy Thompson

---

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
The moon-- celestial wanderer gleaming in her glory in the evening sky. Clouds mostly clear, the wind stirs and swirls and sweeps along the alleys and streets of Harlem; quiet radiance descends from the fresh dark, setting the streets agleam with its light.

Belinda inhales, exhales, tightening her clasp on the box in her hands. A delivery-- and an excuse to finally visit Ms. Thompson. And the accidental source of all her nervousness.

The second lycanic being she has ever met. Is she a werewolf? Were-something? Were-anything at all? Not sure, and no true idea. Would one bearing the gift outside immediate family even smell the same?

"....Dios," the young lady mutters, exhaling toherself. "I am stalling."

Steeling herself, she walks forward-- trying to ignore the *scents* that whisper to the senses, the instincts. Territory. Not belonging. Stay back!

"Senora?" comes the Spanish, called with care. "It is Belinda. From the beach?"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    It being after hours for Mercy's Garage the lower level just has on the security lights and no 'open' sign is illuminated. That doesn't mean nobody is there. Because Mercy is almost always there as she lives above the garage itself. She is in fact currently doing a small 'yay me' celebration. She made herself a cake, flagged her favorite show on Netflix and planned to sit down with it and watch TV, eat sweats, pet her cat Medae, and relax. That's why she's in the ACME sweat pants and a tank top that has a picture of Wile E. Coyote with a knife and fork drooling down at a cooked bird on a plate with a blue feather on it and the words "Never Give Up On Your Dreams!"
    Normally Mercy's nose and ears are plenty sharp, but she's blocking things a bit more then usual. Blame the long phone call with her mother, those always can take it out of Mercy's energy tanks. But even tuned in and all it's hard to miss someone calling out. She pauses and tips her ears and nose from inside the house. "Huh."
    Kicking to her feet she double checks the firearm she keeps in her house that it is both loaded and safetied, and then sees about stepping out the door and looking around from the top of the stairs. "Hola, chica from the beach. What can I do for you?" She seems casual enough and makes sure her body language is relaxed, her smile shows no teeth, but she does make more eye contact then normal. That's not usually a good idea with werewolves, but this is her home and she is not going to tuck tail that easily.

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Belinda swallows thickly. She is there, at the top of the railing; suddenly, she feels much smaller than her seventeen years... Biting back the bullet, she looks directly, focusing as she purses her lips. "Mrs. Crowe and her coworkers send their best regards," she begins, offering the box. "And apologize that they could not come to attend your celebration." She grins sheepishly, smiling as she gazes down finally. Breaking eye contact.

"...lemon cake?" she offers. "Fresh from this morning!"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    "Cele... oh!" Mercy seems amused because she should have figured others in the group would have known it was her birthday. "Don't stress it, pup." Winking at the girl down there. "I didn't really want a big party or anything so it's fine." There's a clear sense of tension going away when Belinda's eyes break away.
    "Come on up, and let's talk so we don't have to yell at each other." Mind you Mercy's voice isn't raised at all, she's pretty sure the werewolf can hear her with those ears without her having to do so. "Don't mind the cat, she will claim your lap." With that Mercy turns to show her back to the other girl. A sign of either trust or that the woman isn't seen as a threat. Either way she hopes it helps calm Belinda's nerves. The door is left slightly open as Mercy goes inside, and right to her kitchen to find a plate.

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Relief descends like a crashing wave; Belinda exhales a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding, finding her way in and up, tucking the box under her arm. Scent, curious-- a lifetime of habit, impossible to ignore. Even with permission granted-- she hesitates for a heartbeat, finally forcing herself mentally to take the first step inside.

"Mia culpa, for not coming by sooner," she admits, careful to shut the door behind her with grave care. A moment's pause, eyes closed as ever scent tingles, as she breathes. It's *new*-- a new place, new features, new things. New scents, in a world of wonders! "We have been very busy lately, sometimes with school, or business, or dark things."

Unspoken as she hums softly, stepping in gingerly. "You did not even have guests to visit, or family to call and wish Feliz Cumpleanos? Caramba!" She moves with care, glancing into the kitchen before she steps in. "Surely someone should have done so!"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    Mercy's home smells like the woman herself. That the garage downstairs, and the cat with no tail called Medae. The other primary smells are going to be gunpowder and baking supplies. She gets younger wolves and territory so she's patient and lets Belinda take all the time she needs to step inside. She's already got a plate with the cake she made herself and some milk out by the time Belinda shows up.
    "You don't have to apologize. We didn't have anything set up and I get how it can be a thing." The door Belinda closes also has a cat door in it that Medau, or Mercy herself, can use in a pinch. Natural the feline is fearless and so is immediately demanding she be honored as all cats must be. Twining herself around Belinda's legs and letting out soft meows at her.
    "My family is kind of complicated and my mom and I do best with short visits or long phone calls. Most of them are father west of here anyway." She doesn't seem to mind the situation at all. "I got phone calls and stuff. Honestly I would have almost forgotten myself except I had given myself a reminder because I had to update my driver's license." Motioning to the seat near her on the kitchen table. "Sit. Relax. Eat cake it's cool."

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Belinda beams with quiet pleasure, brightening considerably. "Gracias," she answers absently-- then, of course, to give the true Rule of the Household her due! Kneeling down, she runs her hand across the feline's back, fingers dancing along and across furred back with warm pleasure. "Mi familia--" She ahems, blushing briskly as she brings herself back into the moment. "My family is all back in New Mexico. My first birthday away from anyone was-- memorable. There is nothing quite like having everyone on one phone at the same time!"

She grins with silly joy, giving Her Imperial Feline Grace another last stroke, rising with regret as she sighs blissfully. Far more relaxed-- she moves to a simple stool, taking a seat along the counter as she bows her head gratefully.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    Of course once the queen is given her due she goes to the couch and promptly ignores the two women and sleeps there on Mercy's blanket. There's a quiet nod of approval from Belinda petting Medae before they get to talking again.
    "Yeah my family is... unique. Well I hope there aren't two like me. Mom had me really really young, dad died before he knew mom was pregnant. Then dad's heritage showed up and I got put into a foster family for everyone's sake." Mercy shrugs and says, "Mom's married now and I got some step-sisters, and we talk from time to time. But I stick out among them. Big time." There's warmth in Mercy's voice even if the family is not close. It's a comfortable distance for all it seems.
    "So then. I'm guessing you got questions, or did you just come to deliver sweets and honor the feline as is her due?" The whole time Mercy makes sure to not stare down Belinda any more, or to make fast motions. Keep things even and calm as they talk for everyone's sakes.

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Belinda exhales softly, toying with her cake before she nods. "Well, a little of one, two-rhits of the other, and a measure of 'C'," she says, mischief glinting momentarily. A bite, as is courtesy-- chew, swallow, then...glance carefully, earnestly. Hands folded, settling upon the table.

"...are you like me?" she asks quietly, head tilting with that subtle grace. Ears would be perking forward; she listens, with bright intent. "I apologize if I am forward. I have never met..." She waves her hand vaguely, exhaling. "....someone else, like me. Not even among those who work with us, with Mrs. Crowe."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    Mercy is enjoying her own cake as she talks with Belinda. She smiles at the first question and asks, "Well I guess that depends on what you mean by 'like you' really. Female? Pretty sure we both are." Mercy trying to keep the mood light as they talk. "But I am going to go with what I saw on the beach to be a firm 'nope' as to most other things." She motions to Belinda and asks, "if you want to meet others I can probably get you in touch with them. Though I'll warn you. LOTS of males get the whole 'alpha' thing a bit hard and can be really overly male about us women."
    Mercy then holds up a finger, "quick questions if you don't mind. One, were you born as you are? Two, do you have to change with the moon in any way, Three, does silver bother you to even touch? You don't have to answer. Just to be clear. But it will help me understand more."

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
The young woman relaxes again, lips twitching as she struggles-- stoic, stoic! --the urge to grin. Stifling a giggle only partly nervous as she returns her attentions to the cake before her.

"I think so," she admits, "Born this way. I did not have a ferocious temper, or urge to go howl at the moon most nights." She winks, eyes twinkling as she chews, eats, swallows. "Mmm. But I did not Change the first time until I was thirteen. Even before then, I think mi papa y mama knew. Mama taught cooking, cleaning, some houseful things, but Papa always made time to go fishing, camping, hunting sometimes when his trips were close to home. West Texas." She sighs dreamily, cherishing the memories. "He taught me hunting things, useful skills. The Change made them all seem more... real? Valid. Useful!"

She nibbles at another bite, thinking carefully. "La Luna was bright, full the first time I changed. But after, I could change at will. Mostly at will." She frowns, grimacing. "But I was always so hungry. I used to be picky; after, I ate everything that was placed before me, and whatever I could get besides."

She frowns, voice dropping low as she nods at the question's last elements. "Silver does not hurt to touch, but.... It cuts. Heals so slowly, like Papa. And fire. It.... is fire. Burns. These things are dangerous."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    "Well there are a lot of kinds of werewolves in the world, and for now I'm going to use that term for you unless you want something else." She motions to herself before Mercy goes on, "I was born as I am too. Only according to my mother I changed the first time at three months. Also I don't go to a wolf." She pauses to have another bite and some milk. "The pack I know don't work quiet the way you do. They go more 'full wolf' just really big wolf. Less Hollywood in a lot of ways like you seemed to be." Mercy will shift in her seat and offers, "I can try to answer questions and help. Not sure how much I can help you, but I am always willing to try."

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Belinda opens her mouth, closes it again, glances away with a blush. "I know I asked this question of Mrs. Crowe, but...."

She pauses, looking back with a quiver. "Capitan America. Is he really *not* a werewolf? I was sure...."

She grins sheepishly, shaking her head. "I mean, it is silly. I had heard rumours, but I think my classmates were playing a joke on me when I was younger. It just would not leave mi imagination, though." She grins, leaning on her arms. "Capitan and his Howling Commandos!" She tilts her head back, letting loose a small sound. "Awoo!"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    "No idea. Never met or sniffed the man." Mercy shrugs her shoulders with a wry grin. "I met Spider-Man, and plenty of Amazons. A few aliens technically. I don't normally run in the 'capes and masks' sort of circles. I'm very aware of how squishy I can be." That and 'girl who shoots a gun well' doesn't make the cut on most superhero teams. "Wouldn't that 'Howling Commandos' mean that THEY are the werewolves and not him. That said I could always try to ask Wonder Woman if you really want to know. She's a customer of mine." Mercy grins wide with humor as her eyes sparkle.

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Belinda doesn't squeal. But it's a close thing! She hops in her chair, a tiny squeak emerging before she covers her mouth with both hands.

"If you would," she finally manages-- when she can trust herself to talk again with gushing! "I did meet Wonder Woman once, but that was long ago. I am sure she has forgotten by now. Well, and I was... er.... fuzzier, then.

A giggle finally escapes her; she grins with simple joy, exhaling as she leans back on her hands. "Mmm. Mi mama would be horrified if she knew what I was doing. Papa would not be happy either, but... I think he would understand."

She leans back, gazing roofward, biting her lower lip in thought. "...It is just so hard sometimes, being in the city. So different. Just the smells--!" She shudders, chuffing absently as she shakes her head. "Up early, every morning, to run in the Park. Usually the New York parks, but sometimes I went to Gotham, and run there." She smiles absently, glitter of mirth. "I keep hearing rumours that Central Park is now 'haunted' by mugger-eating monsters. As if." She sniffs archly, tossing her head.

"I am learning, so that one does not bite. It would be rude! And no idea if.... Like the movies. Things can be passed."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    "I'll do my best to remember and ask her. She'll likely be amused by it and give no direct answer, but it shouldn't hurt to ask." Mercy stays relaxed, but she's very alert of all body language cues that Belinda gives off. "Why would your parents be less then pleased? Because you're talking about your abilities with me?" Mercy will wave off that idea. "My foster father was a werewolf and I grew up around a huge pack. So really no new secrets here."
    Mercy can totally understand about the smells, "Summers are rough too. Especially if trash backs up, or the wind blows a certain way. I find the sounds almost harder. You learn to deal with the faint and constant pops of gunfire after a while." Least she did anyway. "There's a big park that is north of here, bigger then Central technically. I think Central doesn't even make top five in size. Gotham is much more likely then New York for hauntings." She shrugs about the idea of a monster, there are so many possiblities and she's not bothered to look into it yet.
    Mercy shrugs about the bite thing, "The wolves I grew up with can make others by a bite, but not everyone can survive the process. That said, biting people is generally rude anyway. I can't make more like me. I never even HEARD of another like me however."

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
"You said they-- that the ones you grew up with --are like great wolves, regular ones, just larger?" Belinda leans forward-- bites her lip, draws back. Internal admonishment-- do not intrude on personal space! She returns her attentions back to her plate-- glowering before she takes the last cut of cake onto her fork, munching down with fierce fervor. Swallowing. There!

"Pardon. Now--" She places her fork back on the plate, folding her hands beneath her chin as she things. "Ther eare many kinds of werebeings, I guess? I have never been able to be of that shape. Just myself, only--"

She waves her hand anew, grinning ruefully. "--moreso. It may..." She trails off for a long moment, pausing. Hesitating. Considering.

"...come from how things first started," she says carefully, voice subtly guarded. "The first in mi familia to Change was Bisabuelo-- Great-grandfather. And, then, myself. I am not certain, but..." She frowns, eyes clouded. "A curse on him, but something new, with me?"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    "Well their coloring and fur patterns can look less wolf like sometimes. Things you don't normally find. But yeah they are wolfs jumbo sized. Really strong, really fast, regenerate pretty well. Some serious tempers usually come into play." Mercy not being a wolf herself is not going to snap at the nose of someone getting excited and leaning in. Just not her style at all.
    Mercy shakes her head and says, "Well if it's curses and magic you should see what Nettie has to say. I'm not a good one about magic. In fact I am told I tend to make magic misbehave if I'm around it too much. I have heard how sometimes over the years through bloodlines magic can... shift. Pardon the pun."
    Mercy stands to get more milk for them both and will pour Belinda some more and point to the cake she made, "If you want more, help yourself. I already saved two slices for myself for later. But yeah, there's all kinds of weird in the world. I tend to call myself a 'Walker' by the way. NOT a Skinwalker though. Just Walker."

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Belinda shudders at the mention of the word, nodding quickly. "I have never met those things myself," she says carefully-- giving the cake a long glance. Tempted! "But Mrs. Crowe-- Mrs. Nettie --said they were not like regular Shifters. That there are people who change in the world, and some who lose control, but then there are those who are just *evil*." She accepts the glass, a long draught drawing the wholesomeness down with a quiet sigh.

She stops after a few seconds, half the glass drained as her thoughts move. "I do not know for certain," she says quietly, "But what I am told... What is rumoured..." She bites her lip, frowning quietly. "It was very bad, when Mrs. Crowe had to face them. I am told that even Superman, or Superboy, Super... one of them. Took part. They do not tell me more."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    "She be right. Though I'm usually careful with the 'E-word' as it is. Evil, real evil is something you don't forget. But there are plenty of people who are just bad, or not made right. Had to put a few down myself. Werewolves that became a danger to themselves and others. It's rough but that's the world we have to live in."
    "If you mean -them- as a skingwalker, I've not met one either. I can change mostly whenever, and don't loose control. I don't have 'an animal' inside me like the wolves I grew up with. Those wolves were almost a sort of dual personality. You had to control and live with the wolf. I'm just... me. Always me. No matter the time or form. Though I can think of things I have met in the past I hope to never see again."

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Nodding again, Belinda lets the subject drop with a quick breath-- and attention renewed at the glass; more seconds to drain it dry, drawing breath after as she exhales!

"Gracias," she murmurs again, sighing blissfully. "Thank you. As I said, I have never met other werebeings before, and--" She pauses, head tilting as she steals a long glance. "Wait. Walker. Like a Walker? A Walker like that cowboy ranger who kicks people and arrests them and changes into a bear sometimes?"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    Mercy laughs and asks, "Wait, are you talking about that Texas Ranger show?" She looks confused but very amused and shakes her head. "I don't turn into a bear. I'm clearly canine as I'm sure your nose knows." She enjoys a good laugh at the idea, "and not a cop. I'm just a mechanic. What I get is clearly from my dad's side of the family. He was a full blooded Blackfoot after all." Mercy doesn't scream 'Native American' as a rule, but her black hair is thick and often in braids. Then there is her skin that is clearly too 'tanned' to be 'white woman' as well. "But if you saw me near my blonde haired blue eyed mom you'd likely think I was adopted and not a blood relative."

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
A giggle rises in answer as she nods, cheeks warming as Belinda grins with glee. "Strong bloodline?" she suggests, laughing with joy. And a sigh-- grimacing as she glance outside. Mmmph. Thank you for allowing me to visit, Ms. Thompson. Happy Birthday also! Oh, and if you ever need a part pulled for something you are working on..."

She pats at her pockets, pausing as she searches, searches-- Ah!

"Ortega's Junkyard," she proclaims proudly, presenting the (rather time-worn) card across the counter. "He is just across the city, so... an hour's walk, mas y menos? More or less-- I used to work there before taking up at the Candle, but there are still times when I deliver for him. Small things, like carburetors or spark plugs or smallish things, components and the like. I think he has a truck for anything that is larger."

She presses herself up, rising with a ginger stretch. "Mmmph. May I help you clean up before I go? Classes soon, and even in holiday time-- mmph!"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    Mercy will take the card and look at it. "Well I am stronger then I look but always good to have a friend in the scrap business. Pretty sure I've been here before in the past also." She has to admit, "I'm still scared to go to the Candle. I really would feel bad if I messed up some wards or something." She waves off the offer of help, "no need. I got a good dish washer and it isn't a big deal." Mercy will stand and offer to show the young woman to the door. "Come by any time and if you need help I'm here. Maybe I can find someone else to have you meet sometime."

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Belinda nods in agreement, smile warming her features as she moves to the entry. "I will," she promises, "And if you have any packages or questions for Mrs. Crowe, I would be happy to deliver!"

She casts a wave to the lazing feline (who, of course, regally ignores the gesture), moving back onto the balcony hanging with a long breath-- and a longer grimace.

"School," she murmurs, shaking her head. "Just a few more days....!"