On a cool morning

Who: Doc and Grayson
Where: Lower Harbor Park
When: mid-morning

Normally, he'd scoff at this setting. Broad daylight, a public park no less? The man he'd been even five years earlier might've chided him for telling Grayson to meet him down here, but it wasn't a completely foolish choice. It was still cold and snowy enough that, while there was a bustle in town again, there wouldn't exactly be a lot of patrons down here. It was removed from the town by the large hill on Washington Street, and the glorious view of the lake was one Doc liked for what might be decided today. He was a big fan of picturesque settings, and even with his world-hopping ways, there was still a definite sense of awe as he sat on a park bench down by the lake's edge, sipping one cup of coffee and holding another as he waited patiently for his potential new employee. And as he'd expected, there wasn't a soul in sight yet. The odd plow or dump truck laden with snow rolled past, but nothing yet that threatened to intrude on this moment.

If it hadn't been for the sudden arrival of such horrendous weather, Grayson likely wouldn't have waited as long as he had to give Doc that call, using that number that had been provided for him during their first meeting. It wasn't that the snow affected his ability to call, rather that it affected his ability to meet the other man. They couldn't exactly rendezvous when the town had all but shut down for the most part, and so, he had forced himself to wait until it cleared up enough for easier movements and therefore, easier meetings. The settled snow crunched softly underfoot, too lightly for someone of his size, an inconsistency made possible by his lycanthropy. Catching sight of Doc sitting on a bench, Grayson was reminded of any number of movies or television shows where secret meetings were held in plain sight, and he had to fight off the smile and the laugh that threatened to chase their way up from below as he moved closer and stepped into the other man's line of sight.

Doc didn't bother fighting his smile as he caught sight of Grayson, nodding and raising both coffees in greeting to the other man. "Hope you don't mind it black," he called over, "I wouldn't trust the sugar packets in my coat, they may date back to disco days." He'd been aware of the other man's arrival on a deeper level, tuned into the pulse of reality directly around him, but it was bad form to use such tricks to blatantly. And even if he was aware of the precedent for meeting openly, he didn't mind adding to it. After all, how often did this little town see dealings like this? Doc figured it was probably more often than he could guess at, really.

"Black's fine," he conceded, striding closer and reaching out one hand to accept the caffeinated offering, turning to sit on the bench but at a distance, as was most likely expected of him. That distance put him at ease around a man he still wasn't entirely sure of, even with the offer of employment and therefore financial support. He didn't really know Doc, didn't know his background of his reputation, if indeed he had one, and therefore, he was still on edge. "Shouldn't you have some kind of newspaper?" he joked rather blandly. "That's how they do it in the movies, isn't it?"

Chuckling dryly, Doc turned in his seat and drew his coat open enough to give a glimpse at the little webcrawler he kept on his hip. "I've finally been convinced print is largely dead," he joked in kind, settling back, "But that's how it normally goes in the movies, yeah. Which, I suppose, makes this my line... you've thought about my offer, I'm assuming?" The smile didn't flicker, but his old grey eyes crinkled at the corners as he regarded Grayson thoughtfully. Doc had worked closely with lycanthropes in the past, and knew just how invaluable they could be on several levels. Tracking, fighting, or even making contact with others of their own kind were all useful abilities to be able to call on. And while he knew there was the chance Grayson would be declining, Doc figured the other man was keen enough to figure that if he could be found, then Doc could probably offer aid in whatever it was that had brought him to town.

Thankfully Grayson's paranoia didn't extend to any kind of misplaced belief or suspicion that Doc would spike his drink in any way, leading him to casually take a sip, as if to test the quality of the provided beverage. Over the days since their first meeting, the werewolf had carefully considered just what it was that Doc had offered, taking into account the warnings he had given about being too keen to sign on, which was what led him to say, "I have, but if there's anything else you think I should know before I sign on the dotted line... well, let's just say I'd like to have everything out in the open."

"So would I," he agreed readily, fishing for his cigarettes and popping one to his lips, lighting up before saying more. This was the make-or-break part of things, and Doc knew he couldn't sugarcoat it. He could spin as many explanations as he liked, but at the end of the day Grayson would need to decide if he could work for somone who was technically demonic. "First, and quite possibly most pressing? You can still call me Doc, I'd honestly prefer if you did, but in this job? My name is War. I was sent to find you, Grayson, and I don't know exactly why. I know on a basic level it's because you have the potential to shift things in the world around you, but as for specifics? I think those depend entirely on why you're in town in the first place."

That was a lot to take in, not because it was a rush of information exactly but because of the gravity of the claim itself. War? Grayson might not have been up on his mythology or whatever it was that would help him know exactly what the implication was behind that name, but humans weren't called 'War'. Doc was basically tell him he was something else entirely, something powerful and not to be underestimated. "Sent to fine me." It wasn't a question as it was repeated, and blue eyes turned to take in the view ahead of him. "Okay. All right. I'm finding out a lot of new information recently, so I can get on board with that, as weird as it sounds." And he could, it wasn't just some impulsive claim on his part. He had been an Alpha to a pack, he could digest information calmly without overreacting and causing a scene, no matter how... odd. "Are you asking why I'm in town or just making a statement?"

Doc laughed quietly, eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. He loved the dance of it all, the give and take of forming trust and revealing things. "Half and half," he answered as he sucked down a drag, "I know you're not here to spread goodwill or do cheerful work, otherwise you wouldn't fall under my scope. But beyond that? Yeah, I'm asking why." A lone shifter was somewhat odd, though not unheard of, but Doc also knew that a lone traveling shifter was normally looking for less-than-pleasant things. "I figure if it's a difficult trail you're tracking, I can help. I find people, after all."

"Not exactly," Grayson replied somewhat quietly, trusting that Doc would hear the words that he spoke regardless of the low volume. He had abilities of his own after all, and even if he wasn't any kind of wereanimal, the wolf couldn't help but assume he had his ways of making sure he didn't miss a thing. Doc had already either guessed or learned that Grayson was tracking something -- someone -- so he didn't see any harm in confirming it. "His name's Liam Moller, another werewolf. A lot of people died because of him." That was all he said, trusting that Doc -- or War, whoever he was -- could figure out whatever else he might need.

This was tough to toe around, from Doc's perspective. A lot of people died because of him as well, every day in fact. Maybe not directly, but still. And he was at a point in his life where he thought he understood the cheapness of vengeance, but he still knew that if someone hurt his loved ones? He'd track them between worlds if he had to. "I'll do some looking," he promised with a nod, noting the name, "Run it through my own channels, see if I find anything useful. Might take me a while, you people are pretty adept at laying low when you need to."

"Tell me about it." Grayson paused there to drink some of the coffee he'd been given. It was slightly bitter, but there was enough of a chill in the air that the heat of the beverage was enough of a welcome distraction that he could overlook it. "Thanks." It was an almost offhanded remark, stated quickly before he moved on, not wanting there to be any grey areas here; "When I find him, I'm going to kill him. I don't care who he's with, what he's been doing with his life since he destroyed everything we'd built up in Denver. He'll die, and I'll be the one to end his life. Is there anything else you need to know?"

A vendetta like that? Well, it could definitely get complicated down the line. Who knew what sorts of connections Grayson's prey might have made, or what delicate equilibriums his vengeance might upset? Of course, Doc knew by now that constantly wondering 'what if' would kill him faster than a proper brawl. He'd just deal with it when he had no other choice but to do so. "If there is, I think it can be covered in time. You won't be working alone in this. I have other associates in the area, and while I won't force you to work with them constantly? Around here, having someone watching your back is definitely a plus." Popping a new cigarette free, he lit up off his old one and smiled a little towards Grayson. "One more thing. You probably won't like this one? But in case you need to get in touch with me... there's a trick. A better one than phone lines."

For all Grayson knew, Liam had built up a pack of his own and going after him would ultimately be his end. He didn't care about that, though. After the damage that had been done, all Grayson really cared about was killing the bastard. With the news that he would have 'co-workers', there was a very slight, almost imperceptible tilt of the werewolf's head, but in the interest of concluding their business and letting Doc go on his way, he didn't ask unnecessary questions. He would find out in good time just who those associates were, and as Doc said, he didn't have to work with them. "A trick?" There was a trace of wariness in his voice, something that was hardly unexpected, given the warning Doc had issued beforehand.

"A trick, yeah. One I want you to understand before I try it." He knew shifters, after all, and they rarely liked being subjected to surprises of this nature. "It's a mark, Grayson. If you agree to work with me and mine, you get ranked in with us in the eyes of whatever powers are watching. You become part of War, part of my scope. What that means, firstly, is that some angels and demons, the smart ones, will back the fuck off. They supposedly know not to cross me. Secondly, it means that in a moment of trouble? You can call for me, and I'll be there." Which was still a downplay of the fact that he just appeared when the mark was used, but it was a decent explanation to start with.

Grayson wasn't a big fan of surprises, in general, so Doc's instincts weren't unfounded. Having everything laid out for him in advance was something that the werewolf appreciated, and maybe at some point down the line, he would even go so far as to mention his appreciation, but here and now, he was more interested in understanding than showing gratitude of any kind. After all, the word 'mark' was troubling in its own right, half-suggesting that whatever Doc was proposing was permanent. "What kind of mark?" It would help to have everything explained in facts rather than trying to guess for himself.

Doc smiled in understanding, stretching one palm out flat and turning it over to show the unmarred back of his hand. "An unseen one to most of the world," he assured Grayson, rubbing his thumb over his skin where he knew Star's sigil laid, "One I create through... will, if you can accept the idea. No branding, no blades. I have one of my own, a gift from a friend." Were they permanent? Doc still didn't really know if he had any way to quit his service to Star, or if Kurt or anyone else could quit working with him. It'd be something to look into. "Just the symbol for who I am, I prefer to hide them in the palm."

The idea of any kind of brand was going to be unsettling to any lycanthrope, at least that was what Grayson thought. They were animals, after all, wild animals essentially; they just happened to spend some of their time in human form. That didn't make the idea of a brand of any sort more appealing. The werewolf supposed his uncertainty had to show on his face, mixed in with the look of contemplation that he had been wearing pretty much constantly since the beginning of their meeting that morning. "This mark," he began, meeting Doc's eyes, "you say I can call you using it. Presumably it works both ways? Can you use it to contact me?" He had to assume that was the case, otherwise it was a flawed system, really.

"Never had to try," Doc admitted with his faint smile still in place. "The people I've chosen have yet to fail me, and the way I play things is pretty close to the chest. I trust those who trust me, and I already ask enough of you and people like you that I wouldn't just shove my personal problems in like that. So... like I said, I'm not sure." His smile dimmed a touch, hands folding in his lap as Doc gave Grayson an honest, considering look. "Also, I don't know how safe it'd be even if I could. There's plenty of hunters in the area, and some of them could spot that kind of trick happening. Which is a lot more than you asked, I know," he finished, the smile returning. Doc didn't like the hunter population in town, but he wasn't the one to alter it either. Just to avoid it.

Whatever Doc really was -- because it was obvious he was powerful and of some race that Grayson didn't understand or even know of at all -- he was at least honest enough to give the werewolf all the facts straight up, which made it easier to give him that trust he spoke of. It would have been harder to even begin to do so if he was closed off about everything, keeping all his secrets and refusing to share information. "It's more than I asked," Grayson asked with a smile for acknowledgement, "but I appreciate it all the same." He sat forward a little, coffee held in front of him between his hands, eyes scanning the landscape ahead as he considered his options. Here and now, there were only two, really, and it didn't take him long to decide on a path. With a slight nod, he sat back again, and looked at Doc. "All right. Is that all I need to know?"

The acceptance was a heartening thing to witness, and again Doc felt like he'd made the right choice in offering this to Grayson. There were still so many things he didn't understand about his own abilities as War, facets he could only discover in the moment, as it wasn't like he'd been given a manual or anything. But if Grayson could bear with him and have faith in the idea they were working towards, it'd work out in the end. "Mostly," he answered, "If you're in, we'll be getting together soon so you can meet the others." He thought Kurt might like Grayson, they seemed of a kind on a few levels, and Eva could make anyone feel welcome. "The only other thing for now, I guess? If we're working together, I'd like you to know... I'm War, yeah, but before I was, I was just a man. Had a name and everything, then one day I had a mission. So... we're in line there, people who have their own identity, but also something more."

If something came up in this employment that Grayson didn't agree with, then he could get out at any time. He was sure of that, and Doc was laying it out to sound like it was always going to be voluntary. It wasn't as if the other man had asked him to sign a contract in blood or promise his eternal soul or anything of that variety, and as silly as that might have sounded to the werewolf only a number of months ago, here and now he wasn't doubting such things were possible. Giving a nod to the idea of meeting the others in this position, Grayson kept his eyes on Doc as he spoke, giving him his undivided attention. "Then I don't have any problems," he told Doc sincerely, considering him with just enough confidence to seem certain of his decision and at the same time avoid any kind of arrogance.

"Only one thing left to do, then," Doc replied with a nod, relieved that he'd been able to tell Grayson this much without any bad reactions so far. Of course, whenever he rounded everyone up and they all talked, there'd be a great deal more questions to answer. Maybe Star herself would be best to answer them, but Doc felt like he'd need to try and tackle it on his own. To rise to the title fully, he'd have to have the conviction to believe his own answers. He was getting there. "The mark... anywhere you'd prefer it?" he asked with a wry grin.

Coming into the meeting, Grayson had been worried beneath the surface about what he might find out. True, there were things here he would have to continue to adjust to, such as the idea of taking orders from someone else and being associated with them by means of a mark, a brand of a sort, but Doc was powerful enough that it didn't grate too badly on his wolfen side. Had he been another wolf, it would have caused a lot more problems, even if only on the internal scale. "Wherever it's not going to be too obvious," he returned levelly, expertly concealing any reservations he still had about this portion of the arrangement.

"I recommend the palm, then," Doc advised once again, "But I've always been a fan of a good shake to seal a deal." Stretching his hand out again, he met the other man's gaze with an even composure. What he knew about shifters was definitely in play in this moment; no flinching, don't show any signs of reservation or uncertainty.

This normally would have been the point where many men reconsidered or suspected some last minute scam or trick of some sort, but any number of things Doc had said and done in their two meetings had wiped away those suspicions enough for Grayson to reach out his hand and take the other man's -- not that he was really a man anymore, at least technically speaking -- hand in his own to 'seal the deal', as it were.

Wrapping his hand around Grayson's, Doc nodded in unspoken approval of the werewolf's grip. Strong but not crushing. You could tell a lot about a person by their hands, after all. And then, with just the slightest crinkle around his eyes that told of a focus behind them, power buzzed to life in Doc's hand in the form of a sudden warmth. It rippled tinglingly along his skin, and he could feel it leaping to Grayson's as the man was signed on, so to speak, marked as one of War's people. "Welcome to the fold," he eventually said, withdrawing his hand in time for Grayson to catch a glimpse of the red rune emblazoned in his palm as it slowly faded from sight.

The wolf that was always present inside of Grayson bristled slightly at the feel of the power as it passed from Doc via their joined hands but it passed quickly enough that the inner animal settled despite its displeasure at the unfamiliar sensation. Grayson was in control enough that he could keep those little things at bay, no matter what the feral side of him made of them. The sight of the rune was brief, but even in the few seconds that it was visible it was quickly imprinted on his memory as if he would have to recall it vividly at some point in the future and needed all those little particulars. Slowly, almost casually, he clenched and then flexed his hand, not unlike a reflexive test of some sort, but there was no pain of any kind, no stiffness or difficulty in the movement. "Better than signing my name in blood, at least." The lazy quip was his way of assuring Doc that he wasn't having any second thoughts already.

He smirked in amusement as Grayson studied his palm, remembering having done the same thing after being marked by Star. Even when he'd called her, he never saw the mark return. "If anyone asks you to do that? Save yourself some headache and kill them," Doc advised with a wry expression. He sat forward and rose slowly, clapping Grayson on the shoulder as he stood. "Don't stress any of this, Grayson, I'll be in touch in a day or two. We'll all do dinner, have a beer, I'll lay out the plan in more detail then. I'm looking forward to it."

That study didn't last long, and soon enough his hands was back on his leg as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. There was a crooked smile halfway between curiousity and amusement at Doc's statement about killing anyone who might ask him to sign his name in blood, but without addressing it again, he moved along, and rose not long after Doc did, some small part of him not comfortable with being lower than the other man. It was the wolf in him. Lower meant less dominant, and even if he was willing to follow the other man's orders and be on his 'team', there were certain things he just wasn't comfortable with. "Sounds like fun." There was a detectable trace of sarcasm to his voice as he spoke the words, but that crooked smile was still on his face. "I guess I'll see you then."

"Count on that," Doc called back as he headed off along the bike path that wound the lake shore. It was strange how he could feel the bond of the mark he'd laid on Grayson, and how it felt hopeful. Maybe the wolf wouldn't be in town for long, but Doc would cross his fingers that he would. He and Kurt would work well together. Now all I need's one or two more... he mused as he walked, smiling tightly against the chill of the air.