All bark and no Bite (Wulf)

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One week. It had been one week. No incidents, no problems, no sign of Scourge. Jordan allowed himself a small grin. Maybe he'd bitten off a little more then he could chew the last time he'd attacked. Maybe he was resting, trying to recover. Jordan may just have another few days peace. Or maybe, he was gone, well and truly. The whole thing could have been a temporary curse, a punishment for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe, it would all just melt away, and he would be free of the menace for good. Unfortunetly, he'd never truly be free. Jordan sighed, he knew this well enough. All the people he murdered, even if it wasn't really him, they swam before his gaze every night. Thy haunted him, driving him crazy. Their voices whispered, just inside his ear, begging, pleading, screaming, sobbing. That was a part of the curse he'd never be free of. He'd never forget.

Jordan's smile was swept away by the depressing thought. All his smiles usually were, despite their rarity. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how fast he ran, it would always be there, waiting, mocking. Fear of Blackgate, or Arkham, prevented him from seeking help. He couldn't just go to the cops and tell them he was possessed by some demon that murdered all those innocent people! They'd call him insane, they'd throw him in a cage forever. Then how could he escape, stuck in cell to be tortured by nightmares the rest of his life? What if Scourge came out again, and murdered everyone. He may escape, but at what cost? How many lives lost? Then, of course, they'd come looking for him. The vigilantes. Robin, Batman, and others, probably.

It was Batman that worried him the most, he was the reason Jordan keapt his windows secure at night, his door locked, his tv on so there'd always be some kind of light. He always slept so fitfully, so paranoid. The thought of facing Batman terrified him, after all the stories he had heard about the Dark Knight, the guardian of Gotham. Images of a giant, bat-like devil flashed before his eyes, threatening to decend upon him with hellish eyes. His hands came up to hug his chest, to stroke the cold from his arms. Even tucked so tightly in his thick jacket, the frigid air stabbed through with icey, flesh numbing daggers. There was no destination in mind, only that he had to get away from his apartment, from the sickening stuffyness. The air outside wasn't any less foul, but atleast the freezing snow brought a sense of relaxing freshness.

Of course, it was late, the sky dotted with stars obscurred by city light. The moon was a great claw, and Jordan imagined a swarm of blood sucking bats silhouetted against the pale light. He shivered again and looked away. He needed to stop worrying about, it had been years, and no evil bat creature had snuck into his room to throw him to oblivion. Scourge obviously did a good job covering his tracks, if he even left any. Still, he couldn't help but feel he was being watched in the nights he went out, and often, Jordan wondered why he dared venture the darkness alone. He had to remind himself, it was for the safety of innocent people. Rarily did anyone wander Gotham's streets at night, unless they had a death wish of some type, or if they were criminals. It was safer at night for a monster such as him, though. Safer for innocent people. He was a villain, whether he wanted to be or not. He was a host for chaos. That would likely never change, and all he could do was take precausions. In case he lost control.

Jordan continued walking, not caring where his feet took him. He let his mind wander with no real destination. His hand slid back the sleeve of his right arm, to view the bandages he'd wrapped around the limb himself. He slowly peeled a bit away, to reveal a few ragged scars lacing his wrist. Jordan often punished himself for the sins of Scourge, as if it would bring him some reprieve, but it never did. It only brought more regret, and more pain. Jordan looked away. He had tried suicide, too, but how would that make his grandmother feel? He couldn't just leave her all alone, but how could he stay? Every day he risked loosing her, by his own hand. His head bowed in shame, he missed the shift of shadows in the alley he passed, and jumped in suprise as a hand slapped against his shoulder and jerked him back, off balance.

"Hey!" Jordan gasped. The world was a blur of confusion, until he was slammed into the brick wall and was able to steady his self. His icey gaze met the predatory eyes of two heavy men, both wearing a dangerous grin. One had a rusty dagger, the other only his dirty hands, and they were big hands. Both looked quite muscled, with broad shoulders and square jaws, but their appearance didn't exactly matter. It was obvious they were thugs, probably looking for cash, or, as these two seemed, just plain trouble. Jordan pushed himself off the wall, only to be shoved back again by the larger, unarmed man, who snickered in amusment. "Look at this, a little boy walking all alone in the middle of the night, how irresponsible of his parents!" The words flowed deviously. "And in Gotham, too." The second laughed. "Maybe we should teach him a lesson." Jordan closed his eyes and leaned back, expecting Scourge to charge out and murder the fools. To add more faces to his list. The twisted problem was, he never did.

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Not much was happening at the moment. He had been out for about three hours and it had been quite... Well as quite as it can get for someone who has not one but two alien life forms calling him home. Show he decided to use this time to train. He already had the club down pretty well. But he still needed to go see if Dinah would train him abit more with the weapon. But the bow he still needed work with. He couldn't really make pin point accurate shots but he could at least hit large targets.

So here he was shooting Native American style arrows using a Native American style bow wearing a Native American style outfit, all with a wolf theme to it. Why was he out here again? Oh right. He wanted to go make sure no one would get hurt. Or at least in his area. He moved over and picked up all the blunted arrows he fired and put them, along with the bow, back where he placed them on his back.

He moved over to the side of the roof he was on and sighed through his nose. It was a slow and boring night. He might as well go back home now seeing as nothing was going on. Then at that point he heard a sound. After looking around for abit he saw down below two big guys roughing up a kid. Now that was too far. He wasn't going to sit back and- Whoa one had a knife!

He thought about using his bow but decided against it. He might wind up hitting the kid. She instead he made his way down behind the two and crossed his arms. "Alright. You two need to back off. Pick on someone your own size." He said standing there like some kinda Native American Shaman Werewolf type thing. 'You know they're bigger then you are.' Lupin mentally commented to him. 'Did you really just say that!?'' Was all Cana said. Wulfen decided to just ignore the two mental wolves and focus on the two big men in front of him. Because they were more of a threat then the other two.

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It was a small whsp of a scent, oddly familiar, that made his gaze flit towards the darkness behind the thugs. He only had a moment to recognize a distinct form peeling itself away from shadow before the fist hit him hard across the face. Knuckles slammed into tender flesh to scrape against the bone of his jaw, slamming his skull back against the brick with an explosion of agony. His gaze flashed red, then faded to persistent black as he slumped down to the concrete with a grunt being all he could manage. Jordan felt clouds in his head as his hands groped for the ground, to keep himself from toppling over. The blackness began to retreat and huddle into small dots after a moment, and the boy wondered why he had not been hit again. What would one punch achieve?

Jordan struggled to focus, and found his assailants advancing upon a new target, distorted voices setting his head throbbing again as the men attacked. As long as they weren't beating him, that was just fine. But then, what if it was Batman? Or Robin? They'd probably recognize him, and they might arrest him. Jordan twitched and curled his fingers, trying desperately to reestablish a connection between mind and body. He ended up crawling a few feet farther into the alley, hoping the darkness would hide him. His arm raised to brush a soft palm upon the aching bruise that formed so clearly across his skin. He move d his lower job to insure it wasn't broken or out of place, and groaned at the pain that flared. Fortunately, there didn't seem to be any serious damage.

His eyes returned to the scene, to see the canine dressed man staring down his former opponents. Again, Again he felt a sense of recognition, and frowned, trying to process it. He'd seen this guy before, there was no doubt. It was the problem of finding out when and where that nagged at him. At least it wasn't Batman. He was far more willing to associate with some wolf guy then the Dark Knight. Jordan realized the guy was trying to help him, him and felt a bit if gratitude. He was interested in seeing how the canine would handle the two thugs as they rushed him. His hand still covered the bruise, the pain fluctuating. If his grandmother saw this, she'd go insane. Now he had to think of some excuse, and not something stupid like walking into a pole. That was so overdone.

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Wulfen stood where he was with his arms crossed watching the two men. When they started to move towards him he pulled his club out from the loop on his hip and stepped back into a fighting stance with his club ready. Ok clearly they were going to fight. His being smaller probably didn't help matter much. He thought in his head. He would go after the knife first then the other guy. He stayed where he was and let the two come after him.

He quickly spun to the right as he brought his club down with his right hand and smashed it into the hand of the man with the knife before completing the spinning motion and elbowing the man in the nose. Then he continued the spinning motion dropping down on his knee then hooked the curved part of his club around the man's ankle and pulled it out from under him. He quickly got up and looked at the two men. "Now do you two still want to fight or are you smarter then that?" He asked using the first words that came to mind. He felt kinda odd using them in this context but it was too late now he had said it so he was going to run with it.

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The cold was cruel. Instead of numbing his aching flesh, as it did his fingers and toes, it stung it, stabbing at it with icey daggers. Jordan was defenseless against the harsh, frigid snow, but at least the walls of the alley shielded his tensed form from the angry winds. He was glad Wulfen came, even if there was a conflicting suspicion plaguing his thoughts. He was still unable to determine where or even if they had met before. If perhaps, the man had a twin, or something absurd like that. It was obvious he was trying to help, though, though and that was just what Jordan needed. Physically, he reminded himself. Jordan would not admit to being so mentally unstable as he was. That was a personal matter. Not even his grandmother knew.

He noticed, as his mind wandered, he began to slip away from reality, into a land of vague awareness. Ahead of him was a blur of combat. The glint and clatter of a blade, falling to the concrete. The blunt swings if a club. The crunching connection of elbow to tender cartilage. Then the crashing of bodies against concrete, and cries of pain and alarm as the thugs realized they'd picked the wrong man to fight with. There was a confused scramble of feet as the two men fled. Jordan tried to focus on his blurry hero. The pain was beginning to fade a little, though every few moments it would pop back up like fire. Scourge was really mocking him right now. now He could almost hear the laughter in the back of his head. What an ass.

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Wulfen kept standing where he was club in hand and stood where he was. He was going to fight back if need be. When the two men got up and started to run Wulfen watched them run. He kept his tight grip on the club and a fierce glare facing towards the men. 'They're running?' He was impressed to see that he had actually scared two people away. Two people who were actually bigger then he was.

When they left and he knew they weren't going to come back he got out of his stance and put his club back where it goes. He looked around some more then started to dance around jogging in place. "I did it! I did it! I did it!" He sang to himself as he danced around. It was now clear that he wasn't really as intimidating as he had set out to make himself appear. Next time he saw Dinah he'd have to thank her for the lessons. He stopped when he remembered the boy and looked around for him. When he thought he saw him he softened his voice. "You ok back there?" He asked keeping his distance so the boy hopefully get the idea that he wasn't going to attack him. He just hoped the werewolf look didn't back fire on him again.

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It seemed odd. The man looked surprised by his victory. Wasn't this his thing? Didn't he normally win fights? Jordan thought he had fought well enough, and it was obvious the guy wasn't your normal bystander, just as it was obvious his former assailants were little more then cowards trying to feel strong. The man's little dance caused a quiet giggle of amusement, but the action only caused more pain to flare in his face. The grin shifted quickly to a frown, and Jordan groaned, pushing himself up to sit back against the wall. He wanted to answer Wulfen's question, but his jaw was stiff and he didn't want to hurt himself anymore, so he only nodded. Then he stood, leaning against the wall. "Who...?" He managed to form the words with a low voice, staring at him. He still seemed so familiar.

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Wulfen smiled slightly when he saw the kid nod that he was alright. Then he said something that sounded like a 'who' What was he asking? Was he asking who he was? Or was he asking something else? 'He's an owl!' Cana said excitedly certain she was getting it right. 'Owl's aren't humanoid.' He mentally told her before kneeling down bringing himself to the kid's level. "If you're asking who I am. I go by Wulfen." He said calmly. He didn't make any sudden moves or do anything that might be seen as hostile.

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Jordan listened, all ears, but the name Wulfen didn't ring any bells. Maybe if he tried to explain how familiar he looked, they'd come to some agreement. "Jor'an." The boy replied, carefully maneuvering around the "d" to prevent more pain from flaring up. It wasn't quite so sharp as before, but his jaw still throbbed, and there was no doubt a big, dark bruise was forming up where he'd been hit. "I've...seen you." Jordan leaned forward to narrow his eyes, peering carefully at the canine styled man. Then it came, the faintest of blurry memories. Scourge. The two wolves had clashed on that rooftop. He had almost tore a hole into Wulfen that night, but with all the heroes that had been present, tearing a hole into anything had been pretty impossible. The image faded, and Jordan frowned slightly. Scourge had attacked this man, what if he somehow connected them? He'd go to prison, or worse! Jordan scrambled back, tripping over his own feet as he tried his best to look casual. When he caught his balance, he slipped carefully and hastily around the vigilante, moving toward the ally exit.

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Wulfen kept where he was as the boy moved around him. He held his hand up showing that he wasn't a real werewolf. "I'm not really a wolf man. Though I think it'd be kinda cool if I was." He said trying to help the boy stay calm. He noticed a familiar scent coming from the boy but didn't quite see where he could possibly have met the boy before. He slowly circled around keeping crouched so he could keep an eye on the boy but not in a way that would bother the boy. "So..... Joran? Do you need any help?" He asked "And I'm not sure how you and I could have met. I tend to try to keep hidden for clear reasons." He said with a small laugh.

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Jordan had never really thought the man was a real werewolf. But then, it wasn't entirely impossible. Scourge was a werewolf, or rather, a mutant, posessive canine demon...thing. Jordan wasn't entirely sure what Scourge was, but he knew he didn't like it. The man's words caused Jordan to narrow his piercing eyes, his cheeks blushing red as he stared Wulfen down. "Why would you want to be some stupid wolf man, anyway? I hate wolves, and you should too. They're evil bastards, you know that?" He snapped angrilly, his pain momentarily forgotten, although in an instant, it all flooded back to him.

Jordan remembered that this man had probably saved his life, and dropped his gaze. "Sorry." He mumbled. He shrugged at the man's offer and leaned against the wall again, his foot swirling around in the snow. "Dun need no help." He replied forcefully. "My granma's gunna kill me is all." Jordan sighed. "Ya know, this is Batman's city. Don't think he'll like some rogue vigilante foolin' around here." He stated, looking at Wulfen again and trying to sound a bit casual. "Unless you're affiliated with him?"

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Wulfen couldn't help but grin to himself slightly when he said he wasn't really a werewolf. In essence he was in fact a werewolf. But not in the supernatural sense, he had a couple of alien's living in him so there wasn't any mystical about it. But he still felt that werewolves didn't exist. Demons, ghosts, fairies, and the like didn't really exist.

Wulfen looked at the the Joran and shrugged slightly. "Wolves are just like us humans. Some are good and some are bad.... Where I'm from originally wolves weren't that bad. Some were a pain in the neck though." He said truthfully. In fact all throughout his life Wulfen has had a fondness for wolves. He even had a collection of post cards with wolves on them... He started to wonder if that was still in his home back in Texas.

Wulfen raised an eyebrow behind his mask when the kid said his grandma was going to kill him. Now it wasn't that bad was it? "If I could help at all with that I will. Or maybe I could get a friend of mine to help?" Wulfen couldn't help but chuckle slightly when he brought up Batman and the fact that he probably wouldn't like him being around. "Trust me, we've met and I don't think he likes me being around." He said rubbing the back of his neck.""I don't go after the big names. I've had a bad experience with being in the wrong place at the wrong time. So you see. I'm doing my best to avoid him." He sighed and looked around slightly for no real reason. "I'm not his enemy. But I wouldn't go as far as to say were friends." He finished tilting his head slightly and shrugging.

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Jordan allowed himself to relax as he listened, the cold scraping his flesh. The man wasn't so frightening, standing there chatting casually to one another. Jordan still remained cautious. In Gotham, it was smart to be wary, even in the safest of places. Every shadow could hold a threat, but at least the darkness wasn't deceiving. In the dark, you saw things for what they were. Cold and terrifying. The light in Gotham was far more dangerous. Far more devious. It hid trash amongst treasures. In Gotham, stepping into the light was a death sentence. It was better to remain in the dark with the demons you know then leap into the arms of the demons you don't. It was easier to cope with.

"I still don't like wolves. I never will. They're more then just a pain in the neck. They're a pain to the head, and the heart, too." Jordan growled darkly. His gaze shifted to his feet, still carving patterns into the snow. "Maybe you can like them. Maybe you jus' don't know them the same way I do, but I've never met a wolf I liked." He paused, glancing back up at the canine dressed vigilante. "Well, 'cept you. Guess you're cool, saving me and all. But you're not a real wolf." He blinked suddenly as curiousity tugged focefully at his thoughts. "Are you?"

The question wasn't unlogical. Jordan was a real wolf, in a sense. Was it possible that this man was similar? Could he have a curse as terrible as his? He seemed to have himself under control. In fact, he seemed quite happy. Jordan found himself feeling rather awkward. His face reddened a bit. Dumbass. Of course he isn't a real wolf. He even said so, earlier. God I wish I haden't just asked that. It was stupid to think something so preposterous. Stupid, stupid, stupid! God I'm stupid! He'll probably laugh at me. He searched quickly for a change in conversation and nearly applauded himself when remembered the rest of what Wulfen had said..

You've met Batman?" He questioned hastilly. Batman wasn't a favorite topic of his, being likely sought out by the Dark Knight. But it was better then looking like a fool. "I've never seen him. What's he like? Did he try to eat your soul?" There were all kinds of rumors going on at school, and since Jordan never watched the news, they were all he really had to go on. Rumors that Batman was a demon, and that he ate souls and controled a whole army of devil bats that sucked blood and ripped bones from your body. They were frightening stories that kept him up at night, paranoid. "Did his bats attack you? Did he have claws and red eyes?" Better to just clear up those rumors right now and stop worrying about them so much.

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When the boy said that wolves were a pain in the head he couldn't have known how close he was to describing Lupin and Cana from time to time. Then the boy asked if he was a wolf. "Its complicated but lets just say that I personally am human..... Mostly." He said but not in a tone that would make it seem like he was a mutant. But he wanted to at least get the boy to maybe not follow him home like a certain three other people have.

When the boy asked about Batman and if he tried to eat his soul he winced. He may not have liked Batman at all but he wasn't going to let stories like this worry a little kid. "No he didn't try anything like that...... He pushed me through a window and stared me down then lectured me." He said with a slight shrug. "No soul eating." He added with a chuckle.

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Jordan frowned at the fact that the man had actually bothered to reply to that. The answer was quite suprising, but Jordan suspected that the man was only just trying to tease him for his verbal screw up. Jordan sighed. Of course he was. Saved his life and then mocks him. How heroic. Jordan glared at the man, but said nothing more that would give any opening to further mockery. Wulfen went on about Batman, and Jordan glanced down the alley and into the street. Nothing seemed to be lurking about. Safe to make a run for it, it seemed.

"Cool. Well, I'd better get going." Jordan replied. Of course Batman hadn't eaten the man's soul. Heroes didn't kill other heroes, right? Criminals, on the other hand, had every right to fear for their souls when Batman walked about. And if Batman pushed other heroes out of windows, Jordan wondered how many wood chippers the devil must have fed with murderous villains. Jordan tried to imagine how painful it would be. What if he stuck your arms into meat grinders? Grinded off your legs with cheese graters? How did these thoughts get into my head? Jordan frowned and shivered.