Post by Brandy Johnson on May 18, 2011 4:58:17 GMT 10
Character Sheet - Original Characters
Player's Name: Mel
Player's Email/AIM/MSN: Ask and ye shall receive.
Player's Age: 19
Roleplaying/Writing Experience: A lot. At least 12 years. I'm a second-gen geek.
Country + Timezone: 'Merica, EST.
How did you hear about us?: Picked you up on long-range scanners.
How often can you get online?: Daily barring emergencies
Character Name: Brandy Johnson
Character Gender:Female
Character Age/Birth date: 24/January 8th
Character's Nicknames: Call her BJ and she will hurt you.
Nationality/Heritage/Species:British/Caucasian/Lupine Wavelength Haemovariform
Occupation: Game store clerk, part-time university student
Sexuality: Bisexual. Complicated.
Description
With wide eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips, Brandy could be considered pretty, if it weren't for her constant chilly expression. She puts little effort into her appearance; shunning cosmetics and preferring baggy clothing. More than a little bit of a tomboy, she refuses to do anything with her hair and it is questionable whether she actually owns a skirt. Brandy rarely smiles and has absolutely no intentions of doing so more. She generally keeps her hair short, but has been known to put off getting a haircut for months. Despite her general appearance, though, Brandy keeps herself in excellent shape and visits the gym regularly.
Of course, every full moon Brandy is a good deal less pretty and could probably better be described as 'terrifying'. She becomes taller and hairier, becoming a huge, bipedal wolf. Under the light of the full moon she is incredibly strong and fast. She is also worryingly resistant to bullets and most forms of weaponry, but possesses a nasty set of claws and teeth herself. Although not quite as dangerous as The Host (See Tooth and Claw), she is still a very formidable opponent. A few lupine traits carry over to Brandy as a human—her eyes are dark, but not completely black, and her senses of smell and hearing are far better than most people's. Dog whistles annoy the hell out of her in either form. She also has a tendency to scare pets.
PB: Natalie Imbruglia
Personality: Aloof and proud, Brandy is chilly at best and very much hostile at worst. She ignores everyone around her when she can, and treats them with a heavy dose of disdain if she can't. Her tolerance of idiots is incredibly low, and she has absolutely no problems responding with violence. In general she dislikes people, wants nothing to do with strangers, and has absolutely no desire to make friends. She tried having friends once, and it didn't work out. So now she drives people away as actively as possible, which really makes things much easier for everyone. They don't have to put up with Brandy being...herself, and she doesn't have to worry about them finding out she's a werewolf. Simple.
Around the few people that Brandy has warmed up to, she's generally nicer and shows a wider range of emotions. Sometimes she even lets her shell down a little. She is more tolerant of friends' senses of humor, even if hers is still somewhat lacking. She'll even hold conversations that don't have monosyllabic responses, or excessive amounts of yelling. Brandy is intensely protective of the few people she does care about, and will go to any lengths to keep them safe. Especially lengths that involve hurting other people. Those are fun.
Even around those Brandy likes, though, she is wary of any sort of physical contact. She knows that the werewolf issue can be spread when human, after all, and she has no clue what sort of...bodily fluids are necessary for the transfer. So she avoids contact with any of them. The only person she's ever kissed is her mother, and she's carefully avoided giving doctors any blood samples. Brandy is extremely body-shy, and has any number of set excuses for why she doesn't do relationships—that she's asexual, that she's saving herself for marriage, that you're a scumbag and no she won't sleep with you. They change based on what she think will be the most effective.
Stubborn and independent, Brandy is incredibly good at taking care of herself, and even better at refusing to accept help when she needs it. She has absolutely no problems helping others, though, and can be surprisingly generous. Not that she'll ever bring this up. She has a very hard time accepting insults—serious or not—and will generally respond negatively to them. Sometimes violently. As much as she tries to suppress it, that aspect of her werewolf personality tends to bleed through. She really enjoys hurting people, and that scares her. Brandy has gone to several lengths to try to resolve this, including meditation and becoming vegetarian. Neither one has been wholly successful.
Of course, once a month, Brandy's personality undergoes a pretty thorough change. It's not PMS. Really. The haemovariform parasite has not taken over completely enough to control Brandy's personality fully, although aspects of it do leak through from time to time. During the full moon, it is able to take control. The werewolf half of her personality is a good deal more aggressive—if that's possible—and has an even more intense dislike for humans. It has no regard for Brandy whatsoever, and sees her only as a host body. Its main goal is to infect as many people as possible, spreading itself throughout the world. Brandy's measures to keep it from doing this annoy it to no end, and every month it will spend the entire night trying to figure out how to escape. Brandy does remember what happens when she's a werewolf, albeit hazily, and it is possible—if unlikely—that she could regain some level of control while transformed.
Personal History: In 1879, Queen Victoria was bitten by a lupine wavelength haemovariform. At the time, it had little effect, but as it was passed along the royal line it began increasing in potency. In 1901, Prince Albert, Victoria's grandson, fathered a second illegitimate child. Unlike his first, this one was never acknowledged—or known to exist—by the royal family. She also happened to carry the haemovariform parasite. It was spread to her children, who were unaware of its existence. The physical traits associated with the haemovariform did not begin to emerge for several generations. Noah Fraser, born in 1963, was the first of the line to show any effects. The takeover was not complete, however, and for the majority of the time he looked and acted human.
In 1986, Noah Fraser had a one-night stand with Rachel Johnson. Both parties were fairly drunk, and poor decision-making skills led to the spread of the haemovariform to Rachel. She was not aware of this for several weeks, until the next full moon. She was not aware that she was pregnant until a month after that. Although she suspected both problems were due to Noah, she had no proof and no way of contacting him. Over the next several months she devised a system to keep herself in check during transformations. Reluctantly, she also decided she would need to keep the baby. She did not know if it would be a werewolf or not, and there was no way she would foist that off on some unsuspecting adopters. She was unable to tell this to the rest of her family, and the decision to keep the child made them cut off almost all ties with her.
The baby ended up being a healthy, noisy baby girl. Rachel named it Brandy, and did her best to support the child. It was apparent after the first month that Brandy was lycanthropic as well, and she took measures to make sure Brandy was contained as well as she was. Despite varied efforts, there was nothing she could do to get rid of the issue in either herself or the baby. She built a soundproof cage into their flat, and made sure she kept track of the lunar calendar. If it could not be removed, it could at least be controlled.
From a very young age, Brandy learned to keep her mouth shut about the transformations. She was never allowed to have friends over the flat, and learned to track the lunar cycle almost as soon as she could read. Rachel made sure Brandy's contact with others was somewhat limited, as a preventative measure. She had no clue what was necessary for transmission, so she tried to limit the spread of all of them. Her toys needed to be sterilized before anyone else could touch them, and she was broken of the habit of sticking things in her mouth very rapidly. Doctor's appointments were...interesting, as neither one of them could allow blood or urine samples to be taken.
As Brandy grew, Rachel made a point of teaching her to be completely self-sufficient. She was well aware that Brandy would need to be able to live on her own. She had to manage it, after all. She taught the girl things ranging from first aid to how to balance funds—things most children needed to know were much more vital for her. When Brandy was nine, Rachel managed to get enough funds together to enroll them both in taewkondo lessons...just in case anyone found out. When Brandy was twelve, she was lectured—repeatedly and forcibly—on how important it was for her to avoid boys. She took it to heart.
At the age of sixteen Brandy finished school with decent marks, and went straight into working. She managed to get a job in retail—not great, but enough to sustain herself—and moved out of her mother's house when she was eighteen. She got a flat in Glasgow and equipped it with a soundproof werewolf cage. Although there wasn't much benefit to moving out of her mother's flat, considering she wasn't really prone to throwing wild parties or doing things her mother wouldn't approve of, Brandy appreciated the privacy and freedom. Independence still had its benefits.
A few weeks after Brandy turned 23, she got notice that her mother had been found dead. It was believed to be a suicide, which was backed up by the long—and very personal—note she left Brandy explaining why. Rachel had hated her condition as a werewolf since it developed, but she kept going long enough to make sure Brandy was independent. There had been some changes to her will, as well. Everything was left to Brandy, but she was to get only a small stipend until she completed a university education. Reluctantly she enrolled in a few courses, more for her mother's memory than anything.
Plot/Story ideas: If Brandy gets loose as a werewolf, she could become a decent bad guy for a thread or two. Would definitely be interesting if she managed to bite someone. It's possible she ends up as a member of T1 or T2, as well.
Scenario #1: Brandy let out a long breath, leaned back in her chair, and stretched, looking around the cozy little coffee shop she'd found. She had lost track of how long she'd been working. Bloody papers, and their...length, and their content. She hated them. She hated the asshole professor that assigned this one. It was completely unnecessary, and redundant. They'd done one just like it last week. It didn't help that the wifi in her building had gone down, and so she was stuck in public, doing things in public that she'd really rather not. She wasn't sure why the thought of someone reading over her shoulder unnerved her so much, but it did. It wasn't like it was anything private, either. She was just being neurotic again.
Picking up her cup of coffee, she sipped at it while staring at her laptop's screen. There was a word underlined in red. She had spelled it right; she knew she had. Word obviously didn't know genetics. Not that she could really blame it, hell, sometimes Brandy wasn't sure she wanted to know it. It was a lot harder than she'd anticipated. She'd already paid for the course, though, and it was close to the end of the semester. Dropping out now would be a giant waste of time and money. She could barely afford the overpriced coffee she was downing now.
Okay. Back to work. Brandy pushed herself forward in her chair, and found, quite suddenly, someone in her way. She pushed back again, and her chair screeched against the tile floor. It didn't quite prevent the intruder's coffee from spilling into her lap. She gritted her teeth against the pain, and pulled up on her jeans. It would help them cool down a little, and prevent as much liquid contact as possible. The stranger was busy talking to her. Loudly. She was pretty sure he was apologizing. Brandy got some napkins and began patting her jeans down before finally listening to what he was saying.
“I am so sorry, I was just trying to get by and you moved and you were in—“
He was rambling. Brandy was less than amused. “It's fine, really. Just...stop. Talking,” she replied, not waiting for him to stop. It was probably a good thing, because he kept going.
“—and I'm sorry, can I get you something to drink or maybe some more napkins or maybe I should just leave?”
“Yes. The leaving. Do that.” Seriously, why were people so annoying? She could deal with a few first-degree burns, and she had a paper to write. Wait, he wasn't leaving. Why wasn't he leaving? He offered to leave, and she accepted. He should be gone already, or getting another coffee or something.
“Hey, what are you writing? Can I see? Genetics? Are you in uni or something? I graduated last year, maybe we sh--”
“No. No we shouldn't. Go away, before I shove this spoon up your vag until your mother feels it,” she growled. Oh good, he'd stopped talking. He was backing away, and giving her this horrified look. Excellent. Brandy turned back to her laptop and started writing again, ignoring him completely. If she looked back up he might take it as an apology or something, and start talking again. It had taken her far too much effort to shut him up. She really hoped her building's wifi would get fixed soon. Otherwise she'd have to scare more people, and get kicked out of another cafe, and it would be unfortunate. This one had excellent coffee.
Scenario #2: Although Brandy would never admit it to anyone, she did like shopping. She found it relaxing, for some reason. Maybe it was one of those female things she hadn't managed to suppress yet. It didn't really matter the type—grocery shopping always gave her new cooking ideas; even if she didn't buy pretty clothing, she liked looking at it. Maybe she'd actually get something nice one of these days. She could wear it around the flat, or something. Yeah. Great plan. She definitely had money to burn, and clothing she'd never wear was the perfect way to get rid of it. The whole budget thing was really the one aspect that always annoyed her. Brandy walked down the streets of Glasgow, bags slung over one arm, trying to figure out her next target. She probably should make a trip into the deli; she was running low on cheese.
“In 1879, Queen Victoria visited the Torchwood estate in Scotland.”
The voice caused Brandy to turn around, frowning. It didn't seem like part of a conversation, and it was close. There, it was him. Short, mousey-looking man. He was staring at her. Okay, that was kind of weird. Why was he telling her history trivia? Before she could ask what the hell he was doing, though, he continued.
“Things get fuzzy there, but several journals from people there report a large, wolflike beast trying to attack the queen. She lived—obviously--and went on to make Torchwood to fight such...menaces.”
Wait. What? Large wolflike beast. That was worrying, at best, and disastrous at worst. Why the hell was he telling her this? Did he know something? Brandy gave the man an icy look. “No clue what you're talking about. Do I know you?” she asked coolly. She should keep walking. Ignore him. Kick him in the nuts and scream something about rape if he persisted. Part of her wanted to know what he was talking about, though. If he did know something, she should find out what. She might need to stop him, or bribe him, or something. See what he wanted.
“Of course you don't know who I am. You know what I'm talking about, though. You know all about Torchwood, and that beast.”
Okay, so if he was right, he was only half-right. She had no clue what Torchwood was, or what it had to do with werewolves. That was better than nothing, she supposed, but he still knew what she was. Or suspected it, at least. No one knew, and no one was supposed to know. This was an issue. A very, very big issue that she couldn't deal with in a public place. Well, she couldn't deal with it unless she could make giving him a concussion look like it was self-defense. Hmm. While she was considering what to do with him, he spoke again.
“Show me where Torchwood is.”
Oh, was that all he wanted? Well, she had no clue where this mysterious group—or was it an object?—was, or how to find it. She sighed, reluctantly. “Fine, you really want to know?” He nodded. Brandy rummaged around in her purse for a second, and came up with a pen and scrap piece of paper. She scribbled down the only street address she could remember off the top of her head. It was a Chinese take-out place she liked. “Here. Go there, ask for the duck. They don't have it on the menu, and they'll keep saying so. Insist, and ask to check their stock. The entrance is in their freezer,” she instructed him, handing over the piece of paper. Brandy watched as he read it, nodded, and disappeared back into the crowd. Wait, had that worked? Huh. She wasn't really expecting that. Well, if he found her again, she'd hurt him until he stopped talking. She still had no clue how he'd figured out her secret, but she could try to look into it later.
Player's Name: Mel
Player's Email/AIM/MSN: Ask and ye shall receive.
Player's Age: 19
Roleplaying/Writing Experience: A lot. At least 12 years. I'm a second-gen geek.
Country + Timezone: 'Merica, EST.
How did you hear about us?: Picked you up on long-range scanners.
How often can you get online?: Daily barring emergencies
Character Name: Brandy Johnson
Character Gender:Female
Character Age/Birth date: 24/January 8th
Character's Nicknames: Call her BJ and she will hurt you.
Nationality/Heritage/Species:British/Caucasian/Lupine Wavelength Haemovariform
Occupation: Game store clerk, part-time university student
Sexuality: Bisexual. Complicated.
Description
With wide eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips, Brandy could be considered pretty, if it weren't for her constant chilly expression. She puts little effort into her appearance; shunning cosmetics and preferring baggy clothing. More than a little bit of a tomboy, she refuses to do anything with her hair and it is questionable whether she actually owns a skirt. Brandy rarely smiles and has absolutely no intentions of doing so more. She generally keeps her hair short, but has been known to put off getting a haircut for months. Despite her general appearance, though, Brandy keeps herself in excellent shape and visits the gym regularly.
Of course, every full moon Brandy is a good deal less pretty and could probably better be described as 'terrifying'. She becomes taller and hairier, becoming a huge, bipedal wolf. Under the light of the full moon she is incredibly strong and fast. She is also worryingly resistant to bullets and most forms of weaponry, but possesses a nasty set of claws and teeth herself. Although not quite as dangerous as The Host (See Tooth and Claw), she is still a very formidable opponent. A few lupine traits carry over to Brandy as a human—her eyes are dark, but not completely black, and her senses of smell and hearing are far better than most people's. Dog whistles annoy the hell out of her in either form. She also has a tendency to scare pets.
PB: Natalie Imbruglia
Personality: Aloof and proud, Brandy is chilly at best and very much hostile at worst. She ignores everyone around her when she can, and treats them with a heavy dose of disdain if she can't. Her tolerance of idiots is incredibly low, and she has absolutely no problems responding with violence. In general she dislikes people, wants nothing to do with strangers, and has absolutely no desire to make friends. She tried having friends once, and it didn't work out. So now she drives people away as actively as possible, which really makes things much easier for everyone. They don't have to put up with Brandy being...herself, and she doesn't have to worry about them finding out she's a werewolf. Simple.
Around the few people that Brandy has warmed up to, she's generally nicer and shows a wider range of emotions. Sometimes she even lets her shell down a little. She is more tolerant of friends' senses of humor, even if hers is still somewhat lacking. She'll even hold conversations that don't have monosyllabic responses, or excessive amounts of yelling. Brandy is intensely protective of the few people she does care about, and will go to any lengths to keep them safe. Especially lengths that involve hurting other people. Those are fun.
Even around those Brandy likes, though, she is wary of any sort of physical contact. She knows that the werewolf issue can be spread when human, after all, and she has no clue what sort of...bodily fluids are necessary for the transfer. So she avoids contact with any of them. The only person she's ever kissed is her mother, and she's carefully avoided giving doctors any blood samples. Brandy is extremely body-shy, and has any number of set excuses for why she doesn't do relationships—that she's asexual, that she's saving herself for marriage, that you're a scumbag and no she won't sleep with you. They change based on what she think will be the most effective.
Stubborn and independent, Brandy is incredibly good at taking care of herself, and even better at refusing to accept help when she needs it. She has absolutely no problems helping others, though, and can be surprisingly generous. Not that she'll ever bring this up. She has a very hard time accepting insults—serious or not—and will generally respond negatively to them. Sometimes violently. As much as she tries to suppress it, that aspect of her werewolf personality tends to bleed through. She really enjoys hurting people, and that scares her. Brandy has gone to several lengths to try to resolve this, including meditation and becoming vegetarian. Neither one has been wholly successful.
Of course, once a month, Brandy's personality undergoes a pretty thorough change. It's not PMS. Really. The haemovariform parasite has not taken over completely enough to control Brandy's personality fully, although aspects of it do leak through from time to time. During the full moon, it is able to take control. The werewolf half of her personality is a good deal more aggressive—if that's possible—and has an even more intense dislike for humans. It has no regard for Brandy whatsoever, and sees her only as a host body. Its main goal is to infect as many people as possible, spreading itself throughout the world. Brandy's measures to keep it from doing this annoy it to no end, and every month it will spend the entire night trying to figure out how to escape. Brandy does remember what happens when she's a werewolf, albeit hazily, and it is possible—if unlikely—that she could regain some level of control while transformed.
Personal History: In 1879, Queen Victoria was bitten by a lupine wavelength haemovariform. At the time, it had little effect, but as it was passed along the royal line it began increasing in potency. In 1901, Prince Albert, Victoria's grandson, fathered a second illegitimate child. Unlike his first, this one was never acknowledged—or known to exist—by the royal family. She also happened to carry the haemovariform parasite. It was spread to her children, who were unaware of its existence. The physical traits associated with the haemovariform did not begin to emerge for several generations. Noah Fraser, born in 1963, was the first of the line to show any effects. The takeover was not complete, however, and for the majority of the time he looked and acted human.
In 1986, Noah Fraser had a one-night stand with Rachel Johnson. Both parties were fairly drunk, and poor decision-making skills led to the spread of the haemovariform to Rachel. She was not aware of this for several weeks, until the next full moon. She was not aware that she was pregnant until a month after that. Although she suspected both problems were due to Noah, she had no proof and no way of contacting him. Over the next several months she devised a system to keep herself in check during transformations. Reluctantly, she also decided she would need to keep the baby. She did not know if it would be a werewolf or not, and there was no way she would foist that off on some unsuspecting adopters. She was unable to tell this to the rest of her family, and the decision to keep the child made them cut off almost all ties with her.
The baby ended up being a healthy, noisy baby girl. Rachel named it Brandy, and did her best to support the child. It was apparent after the first month that Brandy was lycanthropic as well, and she took measures to make sure Brandy was contained as well as she was. Despite varied efforts, there was nothing she could do to get rid of the issue in either herself or the baby. She built a soundproof cage into their flat, and made sure she kept track of the lunar calendar. If it could not be removed, it could at least be controlled.
From a very young age, Brandy learned to keep her mouth shut about the transformations. She was never allowed to have friends over the flat, and learned to track the lunar cycle almost as soon as she could read. Rachel made sure Brandy's contact with others was somewhat limited, as a preventative measure. She had no clue what was necessary for transmission, so she tried to limit the spread of all of them. Her toys needed to be sterilized before anyone else could touch them, and she was broken of the habit of sticking things in her mouth very rapidly. Doctor's appointments were...interesting, as neither one of them could allow blood or urine samples to be taken.
As Brandy grew, Rachel made a point of teaching her to be completely self-sufficient. She was well aware that Brandy would need to be able to live on her own. She had to manage it, after all. She taught the girl things ranging from first aid to how to balance funds—things most children needed to know were much more vital for her. When Brandy was nine, Rachel managed to get enough funds together to enroll them both in taewkondo lessons...just in case anyone found out. When Brandy was twelve, she was lectured—repeatedly and forcibly—on how important it was for her to avoid boys. She took it to heart.
At the age of sixteen Brandy finished school with decent marks, and went straight into working. She managed to get a job in retail—not great, but enough to sustain herself—and moved out of her mother's house when she was eighteen. She got a flat in Glasgow and equipped it with a soundproof werewolf cage. Although there wasn't much benefit to moving out of her mother's flat, considering she wasn't really prone to throwing wild parties or doing things her mother wouldn't approve of, Brandy appreciated the privacy and freedom. Independence still had its benefits.
A few weeks after Brandy turned 23, she got notice that her mother had been found dead. It was believed to be a suicide, which was backed up by the long—and very personal—note she left Brandy explaining why. Rachel had hated her condition as a werewolf since it developed, but she kept going long enough to make sure Brandy was independent. There had been some changes to her will, as well. Everything was left to Brandy, but she was to get only a small stipend until she completed a university education. Reluctantly she enrolled in a few courses, more for her mother's memory than anything.
Plot/Story ideas: If Brandy gets loose as a werewolf, she could become a decent bad guy for a thread or two. Would definitely be interesting if she managed to bite someone. It's possible she ends up as a member of T1 or T2, as well.
Scenario #1: Brandy let out a long breath, leaned back in her chair, and stretched, looking around the cozy little coffee shop she'd found. She had lost track of how long she'd been working. Bloody papers, and their...length, and their content. She hated them. She hated the asshole professor that assigned this one. It was completely unnecessary, and redundant. They'd done one just like it last week. It didn't help that the wifi in her building had gone down, and so she was stuck in public, doing things in public that she'd really rather not. She wasn't sure why the thought of someone reading over her shoulder unnerved her so much, but it did. It wasn't like it was anything private, either. She was just being neurotic again.
Picking up her cup of coffee, she sipped at it while staring at her laptop's screen. There was a word underlined in red. She had spelled it right; she knew she had. Word obviously didn't know genetics. Not that she could really blame it, hell, sometimes Brandy wasn't sure she wanted to know it. It was a lot harder than she'd anticipated. She'd already paid for the course, though, and it was close to the end of the semester. Dropping out now would be a giant waste of time and money. She could barely afford the overpriced coffee she was downing now.
Okay. Back to work. Brandy pushed herself forward in her chair, and found, quite suddenly, someone in her way. She pushed back again, and her chair screeched against the tile floor. It didn't quite prevent the intruder's coffee from spilling into her lap. She gritted her teeth against the pain, and pulled up on her jeans. It would help them cool down a little, and prevent as much liquid contact as possible. The stranger was busy talking to her. Loudly. She was pretty sure he was apologizing. Brandy got some napkins and began patting her jeans down before finally listening to what he was saying.
“I am so sorry, I was just trying to get by and you moved and you were in—“
He was rambling. Brandy was less than amused. “It's fine, really. Just...stop. Talking,” she replied, not waiting for him to stop. It was probably a good thing, because he kept going.
“—and I'm sorry, can I get you something to drink or maybe some more napkins or maybe I should just leave?”
“Yes. The leaving. Do that.” Seriously, why were people so annoying? She could deal with a few first-degree burns, and she had a paper to write. Wait, he wasn't leaving. Why wasn't he leaving? He offered to leave, and she accepted. He should be gone already, or getting another coffee or something.
“Hey, what are you writing? Can I see? Genetics? Are you in uni or something? I graduated last year, maybe we sh--”
“No. No we shouldn't. Go away, before I shove this spoon up your vag until your mother feels it,” she growled. Oh good, he'd stopped talking. He was backing away, and giving her this horrified look. Excellent. Brandy turned back to her laptop and started writing again, ignoring him completely. If she looked back up he might take it as an apology or something, and start talking again. It had taken her far too much effort to shut him up. She really hoped her building's wifi would get fixed soon. Otherwise she'd have to scare more people, and get kicked out of another cafe, and it would be unfortunate. This one had excellent coffee.
Scenario #2: Although Brandy would never admit it to anyone, she did like shopping. She found it relaxing, for some reason. Maybe it was one of those female things she hadn't managed to suppress yet. It didn't really matter the type—grocery shopping always gave her new cooking ideas; even if she didn't buy pretty clothing, she liked looking at it. Maybe she'd actually get something nice one of these days. She could wear it around the flat, or something. Yeah. Great plan. She definitely had money to burn, and clothing she'd never wear was the perfect way to get rid of it. The whole budget thing was really the one aspect that always annoyed her. Brandy walked down the streets of Glasgow, bags slung over one arm, trying to figure out her next target. She probably should make a trip into the deli; she was running low on cheese.
“In 1879, Queen Victoria visited the Torchwood estate in Scotland.”
The voice caused Brandy to turn around, frowning. It didn't seem like part of a conversation, and it was close. There, it was him. Short, mousey-looking man. He was staring at her. Okay, that was kind of weird. Why was he telling her history trivia? Before she could ask what the hell he was doing, though, he continued.
“Things get fuzzy there, but several journals from people there report a large, wolflike beast trying to attack the queen. She lived—obviously--and went on to make Torchwood to fight such...menaces.”
Wait. What? Large wolflike beast. That was worrying, at best, and disastrous at worst. Why the hell was he telling her this? Did he know something? Brandy gave the man an icy look. “No clue what you're talking about. Do I know you?” she asked coolly. She should keep walking. Ignore him. Kick him in the nuts and scream something about rape if he persisted. Part of her wanted to know what he was talking about, though. If he did know something, she should find out what. She might need to stop him, or bribe him, or something. See what he wanted.
“Of course you don't know who I am. You know what I'm talking about, though. You know all about Torchwood, and that beast.”
Okay, so if he was right, he was only half-right. She had no clue what Torchwood was, or what it had to do with werewolves. That was better than nothing, she supposed, but he still knew what she was. Or suspected it, at least. No one knew, and no one was supposed to know. This was an issue. A very, very big issue that she couldn't deal with in a public place. Well, she couldn't deal with it unless she could make giving him a concussion look like it was self-defense. Hmm. While she was considering what to do with him, he spoke again.
“Show me where Torchwood is.”
Oh, was that all he wanted? Well, she had no clue where this mysterious group—or was it an object?—was, or how to find it. She sighed, reluctantly. “Fine, you really want to know?” He nodded. Brandy rummaged around in her purse for a second, and came up with a pen and scrap piece of paper. She scribbled down the only street address she could remember off the top of her head. It was a Chinese take-out place she liked. “Here. Go there, ask for the duck. They don't have it on the menu, and they'll keep saying so. Insist, and ask to check their stock. The entrance is in their freezer,” she instructed him, handing over the piece of paper. Brandy watched as he read it, nodded, and disappeared back into the crowd. Wait, had that worked? Huh. She wasn't really expecting that. Well, if he found her again, she'd hurt him until he stopped talking. She still had no clue how he'd figured out her secret, but she could try to look into it later.
