Ignorance Was Bliss [Logan]

[Dean]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,40,true][atrb=width,510,true][atrb=height,370][atrb=background,http://i614.photobucket.com/albums/tt224/74067eco/PostingTable.png] [scrolly:h(315),w(265),sy] »»»»....¤........¤........¤....«««« Dean had a knack for gaining knowledge. It was one of the things that he believed in more than anything. Humans (and whatever he was) fear most that which they do not understand. A vast majority of the stupid and/or horrific decisions mankind have ever made have been made out of ignorance. Which is rooted in fear. It all boils down to one, indisputable principle: Knowledge is power. Now, it wasn't that Dean sought to gain power through his odd exploits, if he wanted that he wouldn't be who he is. No, he just never liked to be surprised. And in Dean Archer's life, 'surprise' tended to translate into 'trouble'. He always tended to err on the side of being prepared. Otherwise known as paranoia. But hey, he was still walking and talking free, which was more than most could say. It had been a little more than two months since Dean had arrived in Shelpy and he still knew next to nothing about the town or its rather eccentric residents. He had heard rumors of a couple gangs, maybe a (or the, however the right tense is used) Mafia, and some whispers of more than savvy cops. Two months of casual listening and light information gathering amounted to only a few facts: One: Dean was not the only shifter in Shelpy. Two: There were, in fact, more than a few. Three: It is not a coincidence that there are numerous shifters in such a small space. Four: Generally speaking, people who are different want one of two things. Either they want to be recognized for their differences and accepted/feared/respected. Or they want to be left alone to their own devices. Like the Natives of North America Vs. the 'original' Americans. Five: Depending on how (and if) the shifter community thought and felt about the world as a whole, something very bad could be coming to Shelpy. Now, some of the facts that Dean had rationalized jumped to some radical conclusions, but he had a feeling. Dean--for the most part--trusted his instincts. Plus, the reason he was doing what he was doing was to find out if his assumptions were right. That and he was stubborn and impatient, but that's beside the point. Dean had heard tell of someone neutral like himself, but with the advantage of knowing about the underside of Shelpy. He had sent word through various channels and assumed reliable contacts for a meet, hoping for a kind information. Any was more than he had. That morning he fond a single corner of paper in his locker. nothing but a time, and a place. Crispy leaves rolled and crunched around Deans ankles as he came to the steps in front of Shelpy's modest Museum of Natural History. It was one of the town's small attempts to make itself look all artsy and cultureized. The building was all odd angles and windows, looking more like an awkward teenager than a scientific compendium. Even the artistic light-poles seemed more for show than actual light--the bulbs shooting their cargo into the branches of overhanging trees instead of down where it was useful. It was the type of place that was more for looks than actual learning and intellectual gain. kind of like a big dictionary or set of encyclopedia. You had one to show you had one, but no one really gave it the presence of mind to actually use it. All in all, it was a perfect spot for a meet, and the irony was not wasted on Dean either. He headed up the white-washed steps, keeping an eye out for anyone who looked out of place. Which would be pretty much anyone at this time of night. As he neared the top he got a closer look at the entrance. The shadows of the city night had cast sharp smears of near black over the wide doorways, making it almost impossible to see inside. Or for that matter, Dean couldn't tell if someone was hiding in the shadows themselves. The closer he got to the top, the more he didn't like it. This practically screamed setup, and Dean was extremely exposed on the white stairs, not to mention the fact he would have to do some pretty fancy dancing to explain to any passing officers what he was doing there. It was a bad idea to keep going. But Dean needed to know. So he stowed away his apprehension and adjusted his coat as another cool autumn wind curled around him. He was going to find out what was going on even it killed him. Which, in all likely-hood, was a staggering possibility. »»»»....¤........¤........¤....«««« [/scrolly]

[Rena DeVito]

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[atrb=background,http://i40.tinypic.com/20t0bw9.jpg] Logan stretched, resting comfortably on the roof of the Museum of Natural History. Like the rest of the building, the roof was oddly shaped roof. There were all these curved triangles that stuck up at different angles. Pah, art. It was a strange thing. Logan didn't have much use for it. Most of all, he didn't understand it. What was art for? It wasn't practical; it couldn't stop a knife or a bullet. So it was nice to look at? The money used on art could be used saving lives, feeding the hungry, or whatever such nonsense the humans were going on with recently. The strong lived, the weak died, it was the way of nature. To fight it, was to fight Mother Nature - a fruitless task. Logan studied the cluster of shapes that surrounded him, other senses alert for the sound of footsteps. He wasn't too worried about his stalker, Mr. Dean Ulysses Archer, showing up quite yet. It was still earlier then the assigned meeting place. Although, it was always plausible that he would show up early - possibly to even poke around. However, Logan thought this unlikely. From his research, Dean Archer didn't seem to be that type of guy. Dean wouldn't be so - erm - rude; especially if he wanted help from Logan. The shifter flicked a small pebble off of his triangle and watched it as it hit another triangle before bouncing off into the inky blackness somewhere below him. Well, as interesting as this perch was, it was way too obvious of a place to be. With a sigh, Logan hopped to his feet and slid down the length of the curve. Now, no longer outlined in the rising sliver of a moon, he was much harder to spot. Logan glanced up at the moon, barely visible over the towering shapes that surrounded him. It was just about time for Dean to show up. Logan turned his attention to the road leading up to museum. After a short while, a figure clothed in a coat begin walking up the steps. Logan chose this location for several reasons. Not only was the museum full of good hiding places, but it was also set up on a small hill with stairs leading up to the door. This gave Logan plenty of time to assess the person who inquired after him so much. Like the most recent information Logan had said, the boy looked to be about six foot - six foot two to be exact. The boy came closer, but before the dog shifter had a chance to see his face, Dean went under the overhang. Swearing under his breath, Logan made his way over to the lip of the roof. He crouched at the edge, trying to decide if he really wanted to meet this guy. After all, he could always just disappear into the night, never to be seen again. However, Logan had a feeling that if he did that, it wouldn't be long until this Dean character found Logan on his terms. Logan would much rather the first meeting to be on his terms. With a tiny sigh, the shifter reviewed the information he knew about Dean in his head. The boy was six foot two inches, seventeen, with red-brown hair and blue eyes. Never been in trouble with the police - aside from an incident that included his auditorium burning down. He had good grades, his best grades being the As in his history and computer science classes. Most recent photograph - when he was about age fourteen. Logan rolled his muscles, enjoying the way they stretched taut before settling back in place. 'Ack. There be no harm in meetin' the laddie - unless he be a'tryin' to stab me back,' he thought rather wryly before dropping to the ground with a nearly soundless thump. He had purposely planned out his landing on this side of the building, because the wind had blown most of the dying leaves on either the pathway or the other side of the walkway. Turning towards the taller boy, he stepped up onto the cemented porch and leaned against one of the many pillars with his arms crossed. After a moment of studying Dean, he lazily spoke, "Oy. Ye'd think the laddie who decided t'hunt me down could at least be greetin' me pro'erly. Ne'ermind. What is it ye be wanting wif me Dean Ulysse' Arther." Logan ended, narrowed eyes still studying Dean shrewdly. Logan had intentionally used Dean's full name to let the boy know that Logan knew more about Dean know about Logan - thus having the advantage. Logan looked Dean up and down, calculating his height and strength. Dean had certainly aged some since his fourteen-year-old picture. He looked less of a boy, and more of a man. The boy was resourceful, no doubt, for he had been able to contact Logan - albeit through one of his many contacts. Logan had felt quite clever in the way that he went around to contacting Dean back. He simply asked one of the many pickpockets that ran through the denser parts of Shelpey to slip a note into Dean's pocket, and that was that. Here he was. Now, what exactly did he want? Other then information. OhOhSea:// Logan's pronunciation of Archer is due to his accent x3 Just an FYI. AND ALSO. I'M ASSUMING DEAN DIDN'T HEAR LOGAN DROP TO THE GROUND, AND THUS STARTLED THE BOY WHEN HE SPOKE. I can change it if ya want |DD But this way it makes Logan seem as if he appeared outta nowhere |33

[Dean]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,40,true][atrb=width,510,true][atrb=height,370][atrb=background,http://i614.photobucket.com/albums/tt224/74067eco/PostingTable.png] [scrolly:h(315),w(265),sy] »»»»....¤........¤........¤....«««« Dean felt Logan before he heard him, the air around him suddenly feeling more occupied. It was hard to miss with the cool fall air so empty. He made no sign of it though, deciding to keep his back to where it sounded the newcomer was coning from. His mid raced while he waited, and he realized with a dark though that it could be anyone approaching. With those cheery paranoid thoughts rushing through his head, Dean waited, his back stiffening for a fight. Luckily his paranoia wasn't right tonight. From behind him and a little to his left came a thick Irish accent, and Dean tried his best to seem at ease. Although, considering the eeriness of the night so far, and the gratuitous amounts of nothing he knew about the guy--other than the name others knew him as--It was kinda hard. He hoped that eh at least came off as mildly off kilter. Though, knowing his luck he probably looked more flustered. He flexed his fists inside of his coat awkwardly as the man he assumed was Logan stepped into the light. Well, into the less dark. He turned to find him leaned against one of the Parthenon-Like pylons framing the entryway, a calm expression on his face. He was strong. That much was obvious. Broad shoulders attached to thick arms and a trunk of a neck did more than any flexing to show the overwhelming that fact. Dean was never accused of being a lightweight and could hold his own when he needed to, but the guy approaching had seen more than his fare share. The rest was subtle. Strong jaw, comfortable but practical clothes, ditto with the shoes, and a shadowed brow over sharp hazel eyes. Dean wasn't sure if it was the guy before he saw them. Sure, the stranger knew about the meeting, but Dean hadn't made it a secret the he wanted a meet with Logan, and it wouldn't of taken much to slip a message into his locker in an attempt to get him out in the open. Sure, it might have been a little of a stretch, but stranger things have happened. No, on look at those eyes and Dean knew this was the man who knew those little secrets of Shelpy Alley. He raised his chin slightly to the lug all the same though, giving him a hard stare. "I've been called many things in my life, polite's never been one of them. " The careful hawk tiled his head slightly, still weary. "Whats your name friend?" »»»»....¤........¤........¤....«««« Guess who's back? THIS GUY! [/scrolly]

[Rena DeVito]

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[atrb=background,http://i40.tinypic.com/20t0bw9.jpg] Logan carefully studied Dean's body language, looking for any signs that may imply that Dean was going to take an offensive against Logan. It was very possible that somewhere along the line the dog shifter had gotten some relative of Dean's killed - who knew? It had happened before - although only very rarely. There was a reason that Logan distanced himself from those around him. He didn't like being confronted and would rather subtly control his surroundings to fit his preferences. The guy looked tense - it was obvious that he was anxious about meeting Logan. Logan, sizing up Dean at the same time Dean was sizing him up, met Dean's eyes squarely, not a hint of unease in his hazel eyes. Dean leaned forward slightly, to better see Dean's previously unavailable face, which looked an eerie shade of grey in this light. His face was almost nondescript. His cheekbones weren't prominent, his chin was of average size, his nose didn't particularly stand out in any way - Logan bet it was fairly simple for the guy to blend into a large crowd. Of course, he was rather tall. That would make it easier for him to be noticed, but not quite so much. The thing that stood out the most on Dean was his eyes. The boy's eyes were sharp, hinting to a decent amount of intelligence. In this light, they were a deep purple - almost black, however Logan knew they were really a dark blue. Logan's eyes flickered down to the boy's wrist where a leather wristband was comfortably resting before back up to Dean's face. His eyes did look rather wary. Logan leaned back as Dean lifted his chin in a somewhat stubborn manner. He tucked his hands in his sweat pant pockets as Dean took a breath, "I've been called many things in my life, polite's never been one of them" The boy paused again, wariness flashing through his eyes again. He tilted his head back slightly before asking, "Whats your name friend?" 'Friend.' It was such an important word, but one that held little weight in the world Logan lived in. He had seen a "friends" shoot each other without a second thought. Although Dean may call Logan a 'friend' it didn't reassure the dog shifter any. Ignoring Dean's question, Logan instead referred to his previous statement. "Ach." The boy muttered, lips turning up in a small smirk. "If ye be wantin' teh help of yers' truleh, ye best be polite." Logan yawned slightly, radiating a sense of calm laziness. He doubted Dean would be fooled by his apparent lack of attention. Logan's gaze drifted away, wondering if his lazy manner of speaking was making Dean feel impatient. "Of course, ye understand I not be promisin' my help - if that be what yer lookin' fer." Logan's eyes snapped back to Dean's face. " 'Ell me. D'ye miss yer parents much? Not yer foster parents," Logan inquired, dismissing the adoptive parents with a wave of his hand, "Yer real parents. Teh ones ye ne'er met." Honestly, if Dean didn't know that this person was Logan by now, then he wasn't as smart as Logan was giving him credit for. The adoption papers had been difficult to find, and Logan still hadn't managed to find his real parents yet. And if Logan couldn't find it, then he doubted Dean could either... Interesting thought. If the boy did want to find his parents, Logan could use it as a leverage of sort. Of course, he didn't know where the parents were, but Dean didn't know that. OhOhSea:// Yaay~<33 Dean's back Sorry this took a while to get to T.T School's been a witch with a capital B ^_^