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Role-Play Log


Emitter: N/A







Scott McCall's Pack


While out hunting for Scott Howard, the McCall Pack encounters a Lion and a Slayer. Hilarity ensues.

August 8, 2015
Beacon Hills Warehouse District


Boys. I think there's something more important going on than cats and dogs not quite managing to live together, here.


Beacon Hills - Warehouse District

The Warehouse District is named for the heavy industry that once dominated the area. Many of the large buildings here are indeed converted factories and warehouses, which has made this part of town home to a mixture of industrial and mechanical businesses--auto shops, big outlet stores, and at least one used car dealership--as well as the edgier side of counterculture, including tattoo and piercing parlors, underground music venues, and popular night spots, such as the city's popular gay bar, The Jungle, and the more mixed-crowd Sinema.

This area is enclosed by the downtown area, south of Main Street, in the north, and sub-divided by the crossroads of Sate Boulevard, Falls Street, and Oakwood Drive, also broken up by Old West Road that runs along the rail yards. To the west, the East Hills River encloses the area, spanned by Industry Bridge. To the east, the city dissolves into outskirts, eventually ending in the treeline of the surrounding forest.


Scott is on the passenger side of The Jeep because that's where he's supposed to be right now. He could've brought his dirt bike but this just made it a bit easier. Especially if he was going to have to jump out and give chase or something. He was practically sitting on the seat as he stared out the window, which was down, because he seemed to be focusing on something. The air. It had to be the air. The way his head was slightly tilted upwards had to mean he was sniffing the air.

"Stiles, slow down. I think I got something." He may or may not have something. That's always the case. But the important thing was that he was making sure that Stiles slowed The Jeep down. So he could get a better whiff. Hopefully, nobody is watching this because it might just make him look like an even bigger spaz.

Stiles, who's driving of course, glances over at Scott and slows down, shifting gears as appropriate. "What? What've you got? Please tell me it's not more vampires." Such as the vampire head, currently in Stiles' Jeep's storage area, wrapped in trash bags. "Or Darth Overbite. Either of those--not things I want to see right now!" He waits, then, for Scott to get his sniff on.

Which, by the way, no. You never get used to that.

Beacon Hills. There's definitely a hellmouth here - Faith can almost smell it. But right now, that's not what she's seeking...because even SHE can manage not to charge right in on something like this, not any more. The bike turns into the Warehouse District of Beacon Hills. Stiles may or may not recognize that bike...Faith herself is, of course, concealed in her helmet.

Ethan Carver is in the Jeep's back seat, looking somewhat bored. "Why don't we start where he left his van, follow his scent up the building, and see where it leads? Driving around aimlessly isn't getting us anywhere. And what the -hell- is that stench, Stilinski? Are you stockpiling old meat or something? It smells like something crawled under the seat, died, came back as a zombie, and died again."

There is another smell here that may or may not be more prominent than the one being searched. And that is only because this scent is very fresh, considering the owner of it is very very near. You see, Brock has been trailing that Jeep for a while now. That's right, trailing it. How? Well he's kept out of sight by jumping from one roof to the very next. Yep! He's kinda that strong in his human form. The car having stopped, so does Brock, just above the rest of them, leaned over the lip of the roof to peer down and watch with his shocking blue eyes. He is almost hunched like a beast, but clearly he is the shape of a man, his broad shoulders lowered, his nostrils flaring.

"Ethan." Scott says this with just a hint of exasperation. He's been having to listen to him complain about this bad plan the entire time and he's still trying to figure it out. "If that weird DracuWolf is still out there, I don't want to lead him to the guy, okay? Just--" Scott stops and just immediately opens his door. "Stiles, stay in the car."

Scott's senses are all over the place. He feels eyes on him. He also feels motorcycles nearby. This is a whole lot of stuff in his senses right now. He doesn't say anything else to Wild Thing 1. He just gives him a look and he's sure the Twin knows what to do next. He moves away from the Jeep, keeping one hand out as he does, but his ears and his nose are working overtime to see if he can't get a bead on what may be about to happen.

Scott doesn't have the best feeling about this.

Rolling his eyes at Ethan's complaints, Stiles is too distracted to notice Faith right now. "Yeah, yeah. Boo frickin' hoo. You're not the one who found it on your damn pillow last night when you tried to go to bed." And then Scott's leaping into action, and Stiles turns to gape after his friend in frustration. "What? Stay in the--?" Glaring after Scott indignantly, he calls out the open car door, "I thought were were way past the whole Batman and Robin thing!" And he grumpily shuts the door. But her rolls down both windows, keeping a sharp eye out. "Watch his back, dammit," he says to Ethan, assuming that the other werewolf will also leap into action.

Some days, it just doesn't pay to be the token human.

Ethan Carver scowls as he reaches to the floor and grabs an aluminum bat, passing to Stiles in the front seat. "Stay in the car," he repeats as he slips out after Scott, flaring his nostrils as he sniffs at the air. "What is it, Boss? All I smell is the death...Wait." He turns in the general direction of Brock's location, but doesn't think to look up to the rooftop. Sniffing a few more times, he growls, "It's that cat again. The Australian from yesterday, the one looking for an Aussie pack." Not seeing the cat in question at ground level, he finally starts scanning the nearby roofs.

The jeep is definitely noticed...and then when the jeep stops and the young man gets out, Faith frowns behind her visor. She slows the bike to a stop, one foot down to prop it, looking around. She might not have a werewolf's senses...and it's entirely possible it's her Scott is picking up on...but when somebody else does something like that? It pays to be alert. She hasn't realized Stiles is in the driving seat. Yet. Otherwise she'd probably be heading for the jeep. Bike. Woman. Something about the way she carries herself, even without dismounting, says "predator," but there's no scent of shifter about her.

Brock is only a couple years older than the three boys down below, and the same age as Faith down there. Granted, the beard makes him look a few years older, but sometimes people forget he's still kinda young. Which means he likes to play. He grins as the three dudes walk into the door just below him, and his fingertips excitedly drum against the side of the building he is hold. "One... two... Mmm, that one ain't one--" the large Aussie counts the heads of the boys, Stiles last, and then over to Faith. "Hmm... four?" And he is sniffing at her direction, "Well now. Either the Sheila's good at hidin her stuff, or she's summin else entirely." The huge guy just shrugs his broad shoulders, "Ah well. Betta get the ball in play, see who plays fetch." And he flexes his arms, thrusting his legs forward and over the side to leap off of the building, since he can't really stay hidden. See, Brock has this mystical radient aura thing that makes him stand out and be a pillar of impressive, even when he doesn't wanna. Sucks for stealth purposes. But what are ya gonna do?

His weight lands perfect on his feet with a big thump, and the grins at the three boys, "'owdy, neighba's. You blokes havin a hide an go seeky party? Can anyone play? Or maybe yer lookin fer summin? Or tryin ta ditch the sheila?" He hitches a thumb back to point at Faith.

Scott is already moving before Faith's visor is fully up and the big bad Brock is making his appearance. His movements have him twirling on his feet and planting himself in front of Ethan. A hand is reached back to push him slightly towards the Jeep in a fashion that makes it very clear that he's trying to keep both Ethan and Stiles safe.

Those are his first instincts in any situation.

"This the cat?" is half-whispered to Ethan as Scott doesn't take his eyes off Brock. Not at the moment. He's wanting to make sure this isn't anything that's about to end up in a bad way. Then... Brock starts talking and that isn't exactly good. Not because it makes Scott nervous or even scared or anything like that. Because he's not. In fact, if he smells like anything, he smells like he's ready to pounce. But he's holding it inside. No. This isn't good for one other and very distinctive reason:

"Uh. What?"

He didn't understand a word that Brock just said.

Meanwhile, Scott's hearing is focused on the nearby Faith. Just in case this is some kind of trick or trap. Scott is ready. More or less.

Stiles peers through the Jeep's window at Brock, wearing an expression of utter bafflement to rival Scott's own. Only more comical. Because it's Stiles. "It's okay, dude," he calls over to Scott, "I'm an avowed YouTube junkie, and plenty of those guys are from Australia... Plus, my dad has a thing for Crocodile Dundee. I think he's asking us if we're playing hide and seek... and possibly if we're running from someone named Sheila." He gives an expansive shrug, as if to say, Hey, your guess is as good as mine. And then, looking up, he finally notices Faith. He blinks a few times, then pitches his voice lower so (he hopes) only Scott and Ethan can hear. "Hey. That's that vampire-killer girl who saved my ass at the Lacrosse Field that one weekend when you guys were off doing the wolf-only 'pack boding' thing."

Ethan Carver's eyes flash blue, and his muscles tense as soon as Brock drops from the heavens. Or the rooftop, whatever. Scott may leap in front of him, but there's no way he's being pushed anywhere, least of all when his Alpha has put himself between Ethan and the potential threat. "That's him," Ethan rumbles, stepping closer to Scott's left shoulder, glancing briefly toward the Jeep to be sure Stiles is staying put. "I warned him this was your territory, but I guess he didn't get the message." Fists clenched at his sides, he's holding back the roaring growl that's threatening to escape his chest. His eyes, still glowing blue, glance to Faith for a moment. "Her, I don't know." He lifts his chin a bit, sniffing the air again. "Smells like...sweaty biker chick. From what Stilinski just whispered, I'm guessing she's another hunter here to kill us. You should get her number, maybe ask her to the movies."

Sheila. Then, Stiles' face. Faith tugs off her helmet, confirming her identity to Stiles. "Been looking for you," she calls. "And your pack." Her tone's non-threatening, but as she hops off the bike? She moves like a threat that's trying not to look like a threat. Which never, really, quite works. Those who haven't seen her? She's not particularly big or hugely muscular but there's definitely something about her carriage. She does look like a hunter, but she's not pulling any knives and, notably, given she seems to be looking for a pack, no scent of silver around her. Not that that always works on every kind of were, but a hunter who intended to hunt wolves would probably carry it.

Animals do kinda rely on body language, and pheromones and all that kind thing. Brock's movements are very assured and confident, but his body language is very lax. He's not walking around in front of another alpha, his wolf pal, and another predator he has no idea of. Nope, he's making friends! Or his interpretation of doing so. "In other word's Yank, whatca' doin? Maybe ya could use a little help. It's the neighborly thing ta do, aye? Can't quite bake ya a pie." His thick arms cross over his chest, and he looks confused or thoughtful for a second, "Or is it you that's spose'ta make ME a pie?" Maintaining a big cheesy grin, Brock licks his lips hungrily, "I like pie. Can ya bake?" He looks over to the explaining Stiles, "Can yah friend bake? I'm not gunna ask if the lady can bake. That might be offensive." See, Brock is harmless... well not harmless, but he doesn't seem to intend any harm. Which, by Ethan's bravado, Brock snorts, and it sounds pretty inhuman. A lion's chuff, "Keep ya shirt on an settle down, junior. Ah ain't here ta start trouble. Dig ya panties outta ya crack an have'a beer. My treet." you can see him rolling his eyes, but even moreso, you can HEAR him rolling his eyes in his tone, but he smirks.

"Uhhhhh... what?"

Scott is having a hard time trying to translate what is coming from Brock's mouth. "We just, y'know, we hang out here sometimes?" Scott is trying to keep this entire thing a big secret. He doesn't know if this Brock person is another one of those creatures that the Prince of Wolfness said would be coming to kill them all or what. He's not about to volunteer any information either! He just kind of shrugs things off. "I-- we buy our pies at the store. They're half-price on Tuesdays." He hopes that explains some of what is going down to Brock.

Scott's attention slightly turns towards Faith. "My uh... what now?" Scott attempts to try and fake this and laugh it off but Stiles' words come at his ear like that and he just sort of frowns. First DracuWolf, then new Cats and now Hunters. Hunters that probably don't like him. That's not good. "Oh. Yeah. Uh." Scott doesn't think there's any reason to try and hide things now that everyone around here seems to be in the know. "Here I am. What's up?"

One can almost see three or four more tons of weight being added to Scott's shoulders right now. His hunched stance lowers just a bit.

Stiles gives Faith a somewhat sheepish wave out the window. She's definitely not caught them at their best, being confronted by a bizarre lion-like guy in the middle of the street, but it never hurts to be friendly to strange super-chicks who show up out of the night to save you from blood-sucking fiends from beyond the grave. He sets the bat back down on the floor of the jeep, then calls back to Brock, "Trust me, dude, you don't want to eat anything he cooks that didn't come out of a microwave." He pauses, making a Considering the truth of what I just said sort of face and adds, "Eeeeeven then, kinda risky. But yeah, everybody likes pie, right?" At the "panties" comment, he makes a sour face and mutters, "Oh, god, that's an image."

Stiles turns his attention to Scott, waiting to see how their leader will react to these odd new people. Noticing the way Scott's shoulders tense, he grimaces faintly. This definitely heralds the need for Alpha Stress Reduction procedures soon. Which means, Stiles need to come up with something along those lines at some point. It's been kind of neglected lately.

The Slayer sets her helmet back on her bike. Okay. This is a rather more tense situation than she was hoping for. "I was hoping to talk to your alpha. And I promise...I don't hunt wolves unless they're going around eating people or something." It sounds genuine. No, not denying being a hunter. That would be foolish...and assume the shifters were stupid. Promising not to hunt them unless they cross the line? That she can do. That has an honest ring to it, a sensible feel.

"My pant...." Ethan shoulders his way past Scott, stomping right up in Brock's face, as his features change, his mouth filling with fangs, claws sprouting from his fingertips. "Listen, Pussycat, you leave my pies out of this. I mean my...Just shut up!" Nostrils flare, jaw jutting forward, blue eyes defiant, it almost looks like he's trying to stare Brock down. Or he's about to ask for his number. It's hard to tell with Ethan sometimes. But for the moment, it seems he's decided to face off with Brock, leaving Scott free to get friendly with the pretty hunter girl. And Stiles...can play with his bat. Back to the lion: "I already told you, we don't have whatever you're looking for, so just Australian Crawl your way back to the Outback, Simba."

Never fear Scott. Brock has your back! "Oi!" the Aussie calls out to get Scott's attention, "That ain't no way ta go about, aye?" He nods to Scott's stature, the dropping from the pressure, "Ya gotta title ta uphold doncha'? An' ya don't wanna look like a whelk in front'a the lady." Brock raises a blond brow, and it is probably something that Scott could feel if he's receptive. That majestic presence that pulses from the giant dude provides power you might say. Supernatural Adderall, or an energy drink, or whatever makes someone feel invincible, and very aware of their own facilities and possessed qualities. In other words, he gives him a few minutes of the stuff that'll make him shine!

Meanwhile, Stiles makes Brock chuckle, and he points, "See now, YOU know how ta have'a good time. Ah like you. Ya should come down ta mah gym when it's open. Ah'll spot ya a cold one." At least Brock thinks Stiles is cool. That's a plus isn't it?! "Alpha?" Brock raises a brow at Faith and-- Well now there is Ethan. He's gonna go and shift? Brock stands very firm, and doesn't flinch, but he does closes his eyes and sigh out of his nostrils.

A calm washes over him that is very deadly quiet. "Miss." Speaking to Faith, "Ah'm gunna have ta apologize ta ya few what yer about ta see. An prolly ta the two of ya over there." Scott and Stiles. But when Brock's eyes shoot open, they are filled with rage and contained violence and they are glowing very alpha red. That isn't all, because it is like someone gave the already large Brock a Mario Mushroom AND beast suit, because he grows, towering 10+ feet tall as his leonine features push and grow, along with the golden pelt. Before they know it, Ethan has a monster looming over and then lowering his head so he can get at his level and face off. No, he doesn't attack. His body language shows that he COULD attack, but the intent is not there. This is just to 'bump chests' so to speak. His voice is so thunderous, it actually can be felt in vibration, which might indicate that it may be possible for it to go into destructive levels if he were to take up the volume. The teeth, the claws, the snarl at the wolfed out werewolf, "I TOLD YOU I AM NOT HERE FOR TROUBLE!! SET YOUR ASS DOWN, AND BEHAVE YOURSELF! THE GROWNUPS ARE TALKING! DO NOT MAKE ME HAVE TO SPANK YOU!!!!" Great, terrible, and yes, majestic. And after that is said and done... Brock shifts right back, shrinking down to his human self, like it was a bodily function. He clears his throat, "S'cuse me fer that." he says casually. Oh, yeah he might be naked. But meh.

Brock Bryant phases to his human form.

Scott is not having a good night. There's way too much to deal with right now and the fact of the matter is that there's not going to be any Scott Sanity left by the end of this night it seems. All he wanted to do was find the Omega Scott and make sure he was okay. That was it. But no. He had to get accosted by giant werelion things and crazy hunter chicks.

Sigh. It's not good being the Alpha.

"Well, uh, you found me. What can I do for you?" Scott tosses this in Faith's direction before all the dramatic shifting and changing starts going on. There's time for a brief sigh before Scott's turning away from Faith and back towards the other two.

Clawed fingers grab onto Ethan's shoulders and strength beyond what should be used in this situation to actually yank Ethan away from the bellowing werecreature and back towards the Jeep. He might accidentally throw his Beta at the Jeep but it is done with the intent to get Ethan out of possible harm's way.

Then Scott roars. His own Alpha Red Eyes glowing brightly and that roar echoing loudly around the area. It is a roar that is used to signify territorial dominance and there may be shivers going up the spines of various people, creatures and such all throughout the city limits of Beacon Hills. It is a roar that should help to shut Brock down, as well. Or, at the very least, show him that he shouldn't be Alpha-ing at Scott's Pack.

"Back. Off." is the only thing Scott has to say to Brock in lieu of these most recent and unfortunate events. Scott looks like he's ready to back up these words with more than just the roar. But he also hesitates because he really doesn't want to get into a fight right now.

Maybe Faith'll be impressed. Bonus?

Stiles hardly knows where to look. His mouth hangs open as he looks from Scott to the wall-of-werelion to Faith to Ethan. And Stiles slaps his forehead, pulling his hand down across his face in a rather vigorous palming. "Oh, god, really?" he calls after the posturing beta, and--well, then there's the shifting and the alpha-ing and Stiles bristles in his seat. Holy. Crap. He's still trying to recover from that, jerking around wildly in his seat as he looks for something--anything--that might help. And then Scott makes it A. Better / B. Worse / C. To Be Determined / D. None of the Above.

Stiles goes with C.

...Dat howl, tho'.

For once in his life, Stiles sits utterly motionless as Scott's alpha howl rips through him. He's not a werewolf, but he is part of the pack--and his bones are literally vibrating with Scott's voice. His mouth still hangs open, but now in a slack, stunned way, and his eyes are doing their best dinner plate impression. This lasts for a whole two and a half seconds. Then...

"That. Was. Awesome," Stiles declares, trying not to shout. He can't help it. It's just that cool. And by the way, he's the only one here who was friends with Scott before it was cool. Yep, that's going through his mind right now, too.

And...Faith runs through a gamut of reactions. Oddly, when Ethan wolfs out, she relaxes. Why? Because if he's wolfing out on command, he's got control - and few things are more dangerous than a werewolf with no control on the full moon. Then the lion lions out, and that gets elevated eyebrows, half a step backwards, the Slayer shifting her stance much as one would who knows how dangerous that is. A lion. She has not encountered a werelion before. Then Scott wolfs out and starts to stare down the lion.

Most women would have run. Faith's a Slayer. Not like other girls. She taps her foot. "Boys. I think there's something more important going on than cats and dogs not quite managing to live together, here."

Ethan Carver doesn't think, doesn't even blink. He just starts to drop his butt to the pavement, head lowered and features becoming human again. Goddamned Alpha-Voice. Even a freakin' cat can illicit instant obedience with the Voice and a strong enough presence. Fortunately, before actually makes it all the way down, Scott is there to yank him back, which in his current state means Ethan goes flying a few feet, so his instead of his butt striking asphalt, it slams into the Jeep's grill. Not that he's hurt, of course, but the impact is enough to shake him out of uber-submission. "Sonuva--" he mutters, glaring at Brock with clenched fists as he stepping behind Scott again, keeping close to his Alpha's left shoulder. Glower-glower. He glances briefly at Stiles and, crap, he's never going to live this down. But then Scott lets out his Alpha Roar, Ethan immediately transforms again, swelling with pride. That's -his- Alpha, howling in part to protect -him-, and for the first time in months, Ethan truly feels like he belongs again. Bring it on, Brock!

Liam Dunbar had received a text a while ago something about hunting at night and to be inconspicuous or something. So he's running in the bushes and stalking along the streets if full camo, completely with face paint. He's very sneaky and smells his pack, well mostly Ethan and Scott. His um er Ethan and his alpha. He zones in on them and runs up out of breath and was running up to them when suddenly double alpha voice and Roar. He literally stops and fall over predictably right in the middle of everything, In Camo, looking like a doofus.

That roar from Scott is a very mighty thing indeed. Even with Brock's powerful will, it would hit him to his core. But... as the howl washes over him like a wave, Brock doesn't flinch. However, his hair; that mane seems to actually glow golden as the dominance pushes at him, like some sort of mantle of protection. It even sorta humms a bit before it dies down when the howl does. Brock is staring at Scott with his bright blue eyes, having returned from red. It is not determined. It's a bit of a staredown maybe. But then... Brock smirks, "That's betta'. S'more what ah expect outta an alpha." And his head cocks, "Ah actually could feel somethin. Yah can do that ta other alphas? That's unexpected." Brock starts to walk, still apparently unafraid, and very catlike in his demeanor. "Ah think we're gunna be good pals, you an' me, Bright eyes. An' ah think we can help eachother." Brock stretches his arms up over his head and groans, "An' ah believe the lady is right. There's somethin more important to focus on, rather than dick wavin' aye?" He looks back over his shoulder at the group as he is heading for where Scott was headed, "Let's jus' skip the circle jerkin' aye? Someone always gets jizz in the eye. Then ya got burnin an conjunctivitis and all sorts of unplesantries." His analogy is-- well you decide on that. But he crouches and leans in to sniff. He obviously intends to help. "Yah comin?" he asks them. "Feel free ta keep talkin Missy. Can sniff an listen." He waves a hand.


A look back at Scott and he's completely back to normal. Mostly. He's still a little shaky from having to go Alpha but it's not exactly anything more than the transformation back and forth. And so quickly. He firmly plants his feet where they are.

"No." Scott repeats. "I'm getting tired of people coming here and trying to make me do whatever it is they want me to do. I don't have time to play everybody's games. I have... a lot on my plate right now. So if you've got something to say to me, then you better start saying it. Because I have an Omega Wolf to find before he gets himself killed. And nobody else is dying in Beacon Hills this week. Not if I can help it."

Scott crosses his arms over his chest and just continues to stand there. His eyes go from Brock to Faith. "Now. What is it that you want?" The question is posed to both of them. "No riddles, please. It's late and school doesn't start for a couple more weeks."

"Aw, no, no--!" Stiles cries out toward Ethan, and then he's shaken in his seat as the badly behaved beta smacks into the front end. "Dammit!" Stiles opens the door to the jeep, emerging bat-less, and steps up to stand near Scott's other shoulder. Raising his hands, spread out wide, he calls out to the others present, "Okay, um. Hey, every--" He cuts off as Liam appears, grimacing, and shoots Ethan a Would you please? sort of look. Then he continues, "Everyone. I think we're all on the same page about dialing it down a notch and trying to behave like rational... uh... mammals. So..." He pauses to lick his lips nervously, one hand falling to rest at his side while the other gestures between Faith and Brock. "How about you two state your business, and we talk, like... rationally. No jumping off of rooftops or pouncing defenseless Jeeps. Just, y'know. Civilized-style discourse. Okay?" Let's face it. It's a miracle he stayed in the Jeep this long.

"Well." Faith glances around, but if there were any mundanes around, the roar took care of that. Or maybe people aorund here are used to it. Either way, she doesn't see anyone. "I was hoping to chat about the nemeton. But I don't think the street is the best place." Especially not with two alphas posturing at each other. Males, too. Faith drops that bombshell, then walks back over to her bike. "So maybe we could make arrangements. You pick the place - this is your turf, after all. Also, maybe I can help you find your missing omega." She doubts she can do a better job than the wolves, but she can certainly make the offer.

Ethan Carver remains at Scott's back, still wolfed out and glaring in Brock's direction. But his Alpha isn't attacking. He's not backing down, but he's not attacking, so Ethan just holds himself ready. He gives Liam an almost exasperated (only almost) look, reaching a clawed hand down to help him up. "Why are you dressed like G.I. Joe?" His head shakes just a little, as his stance finally begins to relax a little. As long as Liam is here, he's not out somewhere else getting himself killed by whatever the hell else has been attracted to Beacon Hills. Finally, his features return to normal again, though his posture remains alert.

Liam Dunbar gets up slowly and looks at Scott, "Ow careful when you do that man. It Ow." He is after all Scott's only actual Beta. He manages to get up with Ethan's help, "The text I got said be sneaky!" He says in his clueless way, "And okay werewolves giant wolfs and Kitties... okay ... But I didn't know we could go Super Saiyan. Can you teach me dude. I'd look totally Awesome as a super saiyan." Liam clearly doesn't understand what he just walked in to and is totally confused, "Who’s the girl?" Totally lost pup just looks confused and starts to edge behind Ethan.

Brock stops. He rises up to his feet slowly, and he turns around to face Scott, lacking a grin or goofy look. Brock has seriousfase. "Ya want me ta level with ya? Alright. Ah'll level." His jaw flexes, the tendons in his neck show his distress. He does NOT want to do it, and that shows. But it is a display, a willingness to offer. "Ah'm lookin fer mah lil' brother." he narrows his eyes, and he looks at the faces of everyone there, just looking for some kind of tell. "Belonged to a pack. Mah old man was a werewolf. Mum was a witch, an' royalty. The old man was the alpha, an a militant bastard. Cruel, abusive and a real sawed off dick. He an his whole pack did nothin but terrorize an abuse me an me lil bro." Brock is emoting distress. His pheromones are indicating that this is not an easy thing to trust someone with for him.

"Well mum had enough of his tyranny, an she stood against the old fucker with all her power. But he murdered her right before our very eyes. An with her dyin breath, she placed a curse on the both of us, saying we'd never grow up to be anythin' like the old man. An' for a while, we though she stripped away the wolves we were gunna become. An' that make the pack abuse us HARDER for years. Until that bastard took after Brodie..." Brock's eyes grow dark, his face turns feral and full of anger. "Ah changed. Inta what ah am now. Stronger, better, more powerful than what mah father was, an ah ripped out his throat!" Brock snarls emotionally. Muscles across his torso going steel. "Made me alpha from that point on. An ah didn't want nothin ta do with the rest of those shits. So I broke em, and left em without an alpha. Figure'd they'd not have the brass ta come after me, an they didn't..." He is breathing heavier, his chest rising and falling. He might lion out!

"Those cowards took mah lil brother! Took em and ran, while tryin ta kill me, knownin I would hold back, as long as they got em. He ain't even changed. He can't fight em. They're all military trained. Ah am too, but that ain't gunna do me good. Ah gotta find and save Brodie, before ah can deal with them." He turns his back from the group, "Ah actually need help..." Pride is a very tough thing for a lion to swallow.

"I'll call you." Scott nods in Faith's direction at Stiles. "Stiles, get her number." Scott only orders Stiles around with this much ease because he has to pay attention to what's going on with Brock. As his eyes work on making it back to Brock, they pass over Ethan and Liam. There's a slight nod given to the both of them to keep them calm and nearby. That nod is also a thank you for being here to empower him. There's a lot that can happen in an Alpha Nod. It should be enough to make sure they are needing to be so much on edge.

By the time Brock's flashback sequence is over, Scott has moved closer to him. He looks as normal and compassionate as any human would be hearing that story. "I'll help you." That's all Scott has to say about it, really. He just nods again to try and help Brock understand just how easy it is for him to assist. Because that's what Scott McCall does. He helps people. Whether they turn into giant lions or not, he helps them.

Not wanting to crowd him and also to make a statement, Scott steps back and near the Jeep where his Pack is. "We'll help you."

Stiles can't hold back the smirk that surfaces at Scott telling him to go get Faith's number. Adopting an air of teasing that he doesn't use quite as freely as he did a year or two ago, he says, "Just like old times, huh Scott? I do the work, you get the girl?" But he's obviously kidding, trying to break the ice with that flash of playful immaturity. Still, he trots across the way over to Faith, pulling out his phone as he does, and gives her a nod. "All right, madame le ass-kicker, hit me with the digits." He stops, glancing up, and adds in a voice quite devoid of its previous swagger, "Only... don't hit me. Please. I'm shockingly fragile." Meanwhile, he taps out a quick text, waiting for her info.

Faith actually produces a card to hand to Stiles. Just name and phone number. Nothing else. If they don't know what she is, they aren't supposed to know what she is. Then she turns to the lion. Admires the view for a moment - what? She's young, healthy, and male-oriented. Then, she offers, "If you need an extra fighter and can trust somebody who's not a shifter, I'm in." She's quite up to hunting wolves who kidnap lion cubs and beat them up. Those wolves can be hunted. These ones seem pretty decent, so far. For wolves - wolves are always odd. Then, she hops on her bike, powering it up and streaking out of the area. Stiles has her number. If they want her for lion rescuing, they can find her.

Ethan Carver relaxes just a bit more as Brock tells his tale, flashes of pain crossing his face now and then. Scott, Stiles, and Liam can never really feel the loss of a brother the way Ethan can. Sure, they can be almost as close as brothers, and as packmates, they're closer than any non-siblings can be. But Ethan is not only a brother, but a twin. That's a bond so deep, it's the very marrow in their bones. Ethan has only been separated from Aiden for a few weeks, and already he feels a profound, almost desperate sense of longing. So of those present, he comes the closest to really understanding what Brock must be going through. "Of course, we'll help," he says, voice low and sincere, as he places a hand on Liam's shoulder.

It's because of Brodie that Brock is who he is today. These guys are younger, maybe a year older than Brodie maybe, so he had been kinda replacing them into a brotherly role. He's been playful, non threatening for the most part, very familiar even though he doesn't know them, he even gave Scott encouragement, and the way he handled Ethan was kinda brotherly too. He didn't hit him. And he butted in to help, when not asked. He misses his little bro. He's got nothing to protect at the moment. And when Scott offers his assistance, Brock looks up, looking back at them. "Thanks." he smiles. Werewolves like the full moon, right? Well they're getting one. "Ah really mean it. If ya ever need anythin at all. Ah got yer back."

Liam Dunbar just looks confused as he's not really following any of this he got a text and put on sneaky clothes... Maybe he got the wrong txt? He cuddles into Ethan a bit, looking totally lost. "Um Why is the super Saiyan naked any way?" Basically the teen wolf is just confused so confused he forgets he's not really cool anyone knowing about him in Ethan yet... Which is definately out now as his arms automatically wrap around Ethan's waist as he watches everything.

"See? Less growling and more talking. This- This I can deal with." Scott seems to relax a little bit. Not much. Because now he has a new task to deal with. His plate is overflowing with tasks right now and he's only wanting to help as many people as he can before school starts back up again. Because then his brain is going to explode.

"You and I. We'll meet tomorrow. We'll get started on trying to track down your brother." Scott reaches out a hand towards Brock. He's actually attempting to shake a giant naked manwerecreature's hand right now. "You might want to find some clothes, by the way. Beacon Hills isn't exactly an NSFW area." Scott spares a glance at his Pack and gives them all a quick smile of thanks. Once again.

Stiles continues to tap out texts as he walks back over. He pauses to snap a quick photo of Faith's card, then pauses by Scott to hand it over. "Forever the wingman, huh?" he teases, and his phone chooses then to chirp and deliver a text. He nearly chokes, suppressing laughter at whatever was sent to him, and then turns away, going to crouch in front of the Jeep and inspect the damage done by Ethan's ass.

Why is it he expects that's something he has in common with a lot of other guys?

A touching story has been told, a hand has been offered in friendship, aid has been offered, and the tense atmosphere slowly diffuses. Ethan slides his arm around Liam's shoulders, drawing the younger teen against his side with ease...and then he takes a good, long look at Brock. Naked Brock, who looked damned fine in all his clothes earlier, but is now exposed in all his muscular glory. "His clothes were shredded when he shifted," he offers softly to Liam, eyes scanning up and down the lion's body. "Just...relax and enjoy the view while it's there." And while you're at it, Liam, brace yourself for the makeout session that is sure to happen once you and Ethan are alone.

Brock? He's a big fungoing guy. And he is comfortable in his own skin. And why not? He's a golden boy, literally! He's got appeal, both physically and mystically. He doesn't mind nudity! "Oi! We're shifters! It comes with the territory! Unless..." Brock pauses and peers at Scott curiously, "Ya can do that, right?" The giant wiggles a finger at his own chest, "What ah did back there an' all. Get all more than man and beast?" For a second, he suspects maybe Scott can't, but the big guy bahs and laughs, "Course ya can! Ya know what I'm talkin' bout! Ah gotta get mah way back home ta get clothes." His grabs Scott's gorearm in a manshake. He's strong! His human form might as well be a werewolf wolfed out! But he doesn't crush Scott's arm or anything.

Liam Dunbar just sort of stands there in GI Joe clothes looking at the naked Lion dude and hugging Ethan. Other than that he's so confused, he doesn't really get what’s going on. He blinks and looks up at Ethan and Scoot, "So are we doing something? Or did I sneak out of my room in camo for nothing?" Liam is in camo even in Face paint, he looks well like Liam and that's to say dorky.

There's a certain amount of inadequacy that Scott has been feeling ever since the other night. There are all these creatures showing up in his town and they are all light years more powerful than he is. To be perfectly honest, he doesn't even feel like an Alpha these days. Much less a so-called True Alpha. He just kind of wears a capable smile, though, through all of Brock's crazy words.

"Thanks." is to Stiles as he takes Faith's number and pockets it. He turns his attention back to Brock. "We're going to find your brother. I promise." Just a statement of reassurance to distract from the topic of Scott's Alpha Inadequacy. Liam probably gets the opportunity to feel his Alpha's energy falter for the moment, as well. They are connected, after all.

"I should uh-- get goin'." Scott says, attempting to wrench his arm free from the super strong lion shake. "Got a wolf to find." Yeah, it seems like Scott McCall is about to take a little break. From all of this.

Brock is currently 6'7", near 300 lbs of naked adonis, standing there like it's the perfect thing to do. Which is to say that he is not ashamed. He's got his eye on Scott, watching him as if he sees something that isn't completely there. "Ah got this thing an all." says the large man, running his fingers through his golden locks. "Ah go where ah'm needed. An' ah am sorta forced ta help people, even if ah normally wouldn't. Fate puts me in the path of folks that need mah kinna help." Broad shoulders shrug, just throwing that out there. "Ah'm here fer a reason, other than ta find mah brother. Kinna think about that, mate, aye?"

So, yeah. Stiles is crouched in front of his Jeep, examining the dent that Ethan's ass put there. Behind him, Scott has just shaken hands with a massive naked man with leonine bearing. Ethan stands nearby, his arm around Liam's shoulders, while Liam hugs Ethan around the waist. (And it's freaking adorable, or at least very adorkable.) But Stiles picks up on Brock's last remark, shooting a look of concern up at Scott. Yeah, that's got to be weighing on him. Yet another reason Stiles has work to do. He hasn't told anyone yet, but he has plans to deal with this.

Do pardon the expository inner monologue.

And then Scott's making to go, and Stiles sighs ruefully, standing up to ignore his poor, battered Jeep for now. He steps a bit closer to Scott and says, "Hey... text me if I can help, okay? I'll check with the sheriff's station, see if anyone's heard anything about Howard."

Derek...has spent way too much time in this part of town lately. For a variety of reasons. Stiles might actually know why he's there, but it may come as a surprise when he's actually...there. And there he is. He walks up to Stiles and looks like he's going to punch him in the shoulder or something. However, if it's noticed, he's holding a small bottle of hot sauce in his hand, which he just keeps against the other guy's shoulder. His eyes are flared and wide, his jaw set, and he bares his teeth, just for a second.

Stiles will know this is exactly as promised. Let it be known that Derek Hale does not make idle threats.

And then there's LJ, leaning against the cinder block exterior of another warehouse a building's length or so away. He's clearly visible now, though he most certainly wasn't there some minutes before. Probably. As he does, the well-dressed man's arms are folded over his chest, and he just... watches the assembled crew without comment.

Ethan Carver leans a little closer to Liam, speaking softly in his ear. "We're looking for that kid from Nebraska." He nods toward Brock, somehow managing to keep his eyes on the man's face for the moment. "That's a lion whose brother is being held captive by a pack of abuse wolves. Jerkoffs like my old pack. So we're going to help him find rescue his brother and then, if Scott agrees, rip out the throats of every one of those wolves." Okay, so his gaze has wandered again. Give him a break, he's a hormone-charged teenage boy. He manages to tear his eyes away, however, to glance at Stiles fussing over his Jeep's grill. "It's not that bad," he protests with a hint of annoyance. "If it bothers you that much, I'll go to the junkyard and get you a new one." He frowns a bit as Derek appears, but bites his tongue, holding back any smartass remark he might have for his former-enemy-not-quite-friend. He does, however, pull Liam a bit closer and kiss him square on the lips in an obvious show of possession. For whatever reason.

"Well... thanks," Stiles says to Ethan uncertainly. "That'd actually be really--" And there's Derek, just showing up. When the former alpha presses the bottle of hot sauce against Stiles' shoulder, he just rolls his eyes (and his whole head, really) exaggeratedly, saying, "Oh, right. Sure, Derek, I'm sooo--" And then Derek flashes his teeth, and Stiles flinches, letting "Oh freaking god" slip out, both hands shooting up as if to protect himself from whatever threat Derek had promised.

Nope, some days, it just doesn't pay to be the token human.

Scott is definitely making for to get the heck out of here. He's got so much to do and so much to think about and so much people to help that he can't get a moment to think about how he's going to manage to do it all. Instead, he just starts to walk away from the assembled crew. "I will." is tossed to Brock during Scott's slow motion exit.

"I will." is tossed to Stiles, as well, to the whole texting issue.

Scott stops and lifts his head up, feeling the arrival of Derek and someone else. He stops and turns to look in the direction of cinder-block warehouse. A nod is given to any members of his Pack that are paying him attention to be 'alert' before Scott's dramatic exit falls back into play.

"Thanks guys."

Broodwolf Begins.

Liam Dunbar listens to Ethan's story and nods, finally gets what's going on, "I hope he's okay." And quite suddenly he's kissed, which definitely outs him to the pack which is soooo against their agreement. He breaks the kiss, after about a minute and glares at Ethan, then tries a recovery a brilliant recovery, "Dude I said I had something in my eye not down my throat!" Yeah he's still totally in the closet after that smooth cover up.

Brock did not see LJ until the last possible second. So he doesn't catch on that it is actually him until AFTER he reacts. If he were Solid Snake, he'd get a "!" over his head, and he interrupts what he is starting to say, "Shite!" He nearly flails and crouches for just a split second. Superhumanly, jumps up, vaulting up over the jeep, high up onto the roof of the warehouse. It registers that LJ isn't some stranger or the cops or anything, and Brock stops the retreat, actually sitting down on the edge of the roof with his legs dangled over the side, laughing, "Ah thought ah was made there fer a moment. Ya gotta stop sneakin up like that."

In truth, the main reason Derek even showed up was to get the lay of the land, so to speak, with the werecat thing that Stiles had mentioned over text messages. He acknowledges McCall with his eyes, but doesn't comment; by the time Stiles will have noticed he's not actually eating him yet, Derek's eyes will have returned to said token human in presence. All the things happening around him are taken in. He's much more perceptive and observant than most give him credit for. "Stiles." Flat, vaguely hostile tone.

There's no movement on LJ's part to obstruct Scott's exit, though he does offer Scott a simple nod as the alpha teen glances his way. It's a simple, if loaded gesture, offering a reassuring message that at least, for the moment, Scott doesn't really need to worry about him. Whether Scott takes it that way or not is an entirely different matter. His glance shifts to Brock next, however, with a short tilt of his head and the lifting a single, perplexed brow. "This does beg the question of why you're standing naked in the middle of the street to begin with, chum," the Scotsman says evenly.

Ethan Carver gives his eyes a quick roll. "Babe, give it up. Stiles knows, Scott knows, Hale knows, even Garfield over there knows. Face it, you're so out, the closet door's laying in splinters on your bedroom floor." And to punctuate that, he wraps the other arm around the kid for a deeper kiss, one with actual feeling, rather than just a show for the others. Once the kiss breaks, he flashes his cocky grin. "See? The world didn't end. So just relax." And then Brock is leaping tall buildings in a single bound, which draws Ethan's attention just long enough for him to miss Scott's nod. But he didn't need to actually see it, because somehow, he -felt- it, and quickly turns toward the new threat, whatever it might be, while shoving Liam behind himself. Not just because he's the boyfriend, but because he's the youngest and least experienced wolf here. "Oh," he says, relaxing his stance again. "That's just the librarian, Scott. Didn't we tell you about him?"

Stiles opens one eye, peering at Derek, and realizes that he's not being mauled or gnawed. Then he lowers his hands and fixes Derek with a token scowl. "Ass," he mutters, half under his breath, and smooths the front of his shirt down, trying to look less like he went into panic mode a second earlier. He holds up one finger in a Just you wait a minute gesture, fixing Derek with a tight-lipped glare of determination, and turns to call over to Liam, "Be strong, Pup! You're good. Don't let it freak you out. Even Derek thinks it's cool." And his eyes flick back to Derek, giving him a so help me, I don't care how scary you are, you will be supportive of Liam right now expression. It's probably the closest to fierce anyone's ever seen Stiles really manage up against Derek, if anyone's paying close attention.

Liam Dunbar glares at Ethan and may not be an Alpha but he can communicate just as well without words, and he gives a look that anyone who has had a girlfriend would be able to understand, one that roughly translates, "YOU ARE SO GOING TO PAY.” He doesn't wolf out though, mainly because by the time he's done with that look he’s being kissed, then shoved behind Ethan, who still hasn't officially asked him and gotten a yes yet. He ends up falling on his butt. "I didn't... You ... I'm." Again all with looks and body language.

"I heard that," Derek immediately points out. Stiles basically putting him on hold gets a raised eyebrow, and then the other joins it when he's talking about...what? He looks to Liam and Ethan, then back to Stiles. His shoulders bounce in perhaps the most noncommittal shrug ever performed in the history of the world, and then just like that, he yanks Stiles's waistband and shoves the bottle of hot sauce there for safekeeping. Because he's not putting his hand in the guy's pocket. "This is a reminder," he mentions, speaking at a volume where he clearly only intends to be engaging Stiles in conversation. "You and me -- we have unfinished business. Let's go." Smacking a hand against the side of the jeep, he circles around to the passenger side and makes to climb in.

"Kinna long story there, mate. Ah've sorta put a buncha mah cards on the table already. Ah can't be givin away all mah secrets, aye?" Brock smirks down at the Scotsman. "Ah should prolly listen to Scooter, grab a spare set." His blue eyes peer down at the Jeep, "Oi! Ya got any shorts in there? Ah can go without a shirt, but ah need summin ta cover up mah jewels."

Stiles jumps, emitting a most unmanful yelp as Derek drops the bottle down his pants, and he scrambles to fish it out as though it were a live eel. Once he finally has the thing in hand, he glances over at Ethan, his ears bright red. "Uh, good luck! Liam, don't maul anybody. It'll be okay, dude, promise." Then he jumps a bit as Derek smacks his Jeep, sighs, and goes to rummage in the back. Finally, he emerges with a pair of loose lacrosse shorts that will fit even the bulky lion-dude, and tosses them his way. "Uh, just, uh... you can keep those, dude. Welcome to Beacon Hills." With that, he climbs into the driver's die of the Jeep, shuts the door after him, and starts it up. Those with enhanced hearing (so, basically everyone there) may hear him as he turns to Derek, asking, "Okay, Sourwolf. Where to?" He just knows better than to argue at this point.

"Certainly not," says LJ, still glancing up a Brock, but with a slightly more bemused expression than before. Because he wouldn't know anything about keeping secrets. With Brock attempting to cover his bits, LJ then takes the free moment to look back towards the other wolves, noting Derek in particular, since that's a new face, and then Stiles as well. His stare is perhaps overlong, analytical, like gazing at one of those magic pictures with the hidden three dimensional images.

Ethan Carver steps behind Liam, leans down, hooks his hands under the boy's armpits, and hoists him to his feet. "What is it with you and falling?" he asks, his tone mostly playful, as he slides his arm around Liam's shoulders again. "Look, I'm not sorry. I know I should be, but I'm not. I know you wanted time and all to wrap your head around it, but it's not something we should be keeping from our Alpha. So now it's out in the open, and we can deal with missing Teen Wolves and kidnapped lion brothers, okay?" His eyes slide toward LJ, and he lowers his voice further still. "Not to mention substitute teachers with voyeuristic tendencies." A glance up to Brock again. "And nudist lions. Seriously, with all that going on, the fact you kissed a boy and liked it pales, don't you think?"

Whatever business Derek has there is something he's aware would be overheard anyway. So all he says, regardless of anyone's notice, is a rumbly snarl of "DRIVE." There's that sort of unspoken threat that he could just take the keys and drive himself. Maybe. He did put a bottle of hot sauce down someone's pants. There's no telling what else he might be up to this day.

Liam Dunbar grumbles then grins and says, "Well you were almost at boyfriend level, now you're in the wolf house, you have to wait atleast another wee before we become offically and another week after that before you get more than a make out session." Its not really in character, but his eyes are flashing and being bitchy apparently is another coping mechanisim or maybe its just the sensory overload.

Brock snatches the shorts out of the air, "Ah, thanks mate. Ah owe yah." And Brock rolls back over on the roof, shuffling around to squeeze into those shorts. Now-- you might expect him to look ridiculous in those. But his Majesty forbids it. Brock actually looks really kinda cool when he comes vaulting back over onto the roof to rejoin the rest. Kinda like the Hulk in his purple pants. "Now, what's all this talk of kissin?" A blond brow raises up on the large Aussie.

At Derek's snarled command, Stiles just ducks his head and mutters something unintelligible. But he sure as hell pulls out into the road, swerving to avoid any shifters in the way, and rapidly drives out of the area. Because he's clearly tested the wrath of Derek Hale enough for one night.

Ethan Carver lets out the sort of long-suffering sigh only a teenager can truly master, giving a small nod of his head, as he steps back away from the Jeep, tugging Liam along with him. "Yeah, I figured you'd find some way to punish me. Though when you think about it, that punishes you, too." His eyes return to the rooftop, but Brock has already managed to cover up, and then he's dropping back to the street again. "Oh, Liam's got some hang-ups about being kissed, but we're working through it." He pauses, eyes going distant for a few moments, then refocusing on LJ. "Wait. Weren't you to both at Lookout Point? Are you two...?" He glances between LJ and Brock a few times. "...together?"

Never allowing his composure to falter, LJ watches Brock tousle with the pair of shorts (or as much as he can see, anyways, given the lion is still on the roof), and then allows his eyes to follow the big guy as he drops back down on the street. With the crew starting to break up, he pulls out his phone, checks something, and then returns it to his pocket. Clearly having heard Ethan, he responds with a concise, "No." And then pushes himself from the wall to slowly walk towards the other three with that slow, precise, and feline gait of his. "Serendipity," he adds, "That two of us should be here at once."

Liam Dunbar gives Ethan with a look. "Maybe I'll change my mind. But you broke the rule...You should be glad I didn't decide to throw your bike someplace." He pretends to be angry but is mostly just all blushie and cute. Then he just runs off with a wink, since he feels ridiculous in his GI Joe outfit. Also he's been spending time with Ethan instead of sleeping so it’s about time for him to get home and sleep he, and figures someone will text him if he's needed anyway.

"Seren--?" Ethan shakes his head. "Sorry dude, I never watched Firefly. Not really into the whole sci-fi thing. But that was the name of the ship, right?" Figures Uber-Nerd Stiles would take off right before his vast knowledge of all things dorky would be needed. But then Liam has slipped out from under his arm and run off, leaving Ethan frowning in frustration. Yet another cold-shower night. Sucks being a teenager. He looks at Brock and...goddammit, the tiny shorts are somehow worse than nothing at all. Two cold showers. Possibly three. "Okay so. Yeah. Um." His eyes are up there, Ethan. "Right! So. Guess I'll be seeing more of you...I mean. Seeing you more often."