Angel Hardwicke
Location; Home ~ Café
Interacting With; Nate Hardwicke
Fair to say, Angel's first experience with the "lesson" Grimbold had arranged for the group, wasn't a particularly pleasant one. Before this, she hadn't really considered the potential darkness she was messing with. Sure, a cool little power and shape-shifting seemed like awesome tricks, that weren't large or powerful enough to be something as anxiety-inducing and world-shaking as something like Magneto's powers in X-Men. Because of this, Angel had never figured there'd be a price - unless it was the small tasks that Grimbold asked of them. Like her first task, an innocent - and hella ironic - Pentagram on a church. Then it was ruin someone's weekend, and considering her target, would be simply dealing out some wicked bad karma on the guy.
But sacrificing something as pure and innocent as a swan?
Shit, Angel was hardly the first in line to sign up for PETA - she loved her meat too much. Damn, if somebody offered her a swan steak she'd try it. But what Grimbold did was just disturbing... along with what occurred afterwards.
Chills had gone down her back, as she and the others sat and watched in their animal forms. Suddenly, being a Coyote didn't feel so cool. It felt even less cool as this black stuff began emanating from the swan's lifeless body. A whine pitched in her throat almost subconsciously, thinking back to the Game of Thrones jokes she and Cara had been throwing around earlier.
"Didn't realize Grimbold had contacts with Melisandre and the shadow-baby army." She thought to herself weakly - trying to grasp at some form of humour to relax the situation. But alas, she could not share this quip, and she simply watched on uncomfortably until Grimbold dismissed them.
Fair to say, she'd found it hard to find sleep immediately that night - nothing a few drops of rum didn't cure, but still - she didn't like the fact that something their supposed Mentor had done was giving her second thoughts about sleeping.
"Nate, so help me GOD, if you don't turn off that music I'll burn your goddamn dick off in your sleep." Was Angel's second sentence of the morning. The first had been a similar threat, unheard by Nate, followed by a large string of muttered expletives.
What had brought on this particular threat to her
charming younger brother, had been Daft Punk.
Robot Rock, to be specific. Now, Angel didn't have a problem with Daft Punk - enjoyed them, in fact.
But not at 7AM, using the sounds system cranked high.
On her one weekday without class.
Not even bothering to get out of her bed, Angel had simply phoned her brother, and hung up once the threat was carried across. The music stopped.
Sadly, Angel's ire had been tickled enough to keep her awake, and she came to the unfortunate conclusion that her full bladder and empty stomach had now overtaken rule in her body, making sleep impossible at this point.
Waiting for her Gremlin of a brother to leave for High School, Angel commandeered the bathroom, putting on her own playlist as she showered. The soothing yet upbeat tunes of Clean Bandit were more than enough to relax her, paired with the warm water pounding away on her shoulders, and her orange scented shampoo and body wash. Angel was surprised to find herself so grimy - it's not like she had been rolling around in the dirt last night.
"Well... unless you count the falling over on the way back to the cabin." Chuckling to herself at the memory, she was relieved to find that the recollection of last night wasn't as haunting as she had thought before going to sleep. Still freaked out slightly by the whole "chanting and sacrificing" stunt Grimbold had pulled, but in the light of day, it seemed less disturbing.
It didn't take long for Angel to dry her hair and get dressed - and then feel somewhat bored. It seemed the right side of her brain was still snoozing away upstairs in her bedroom, as she felt no desire to draw or bust out some tunes on her guitar.
Which left food. And what better food could one ingest than bacon?
"Of course... no pig. Nice one, Uncle James." Pulling a face and turning away from the sadly swine-deprived fridge, Angel noticed her brother's wallet on the dining table, along with his half-empty cereal bowl.
"Jesus Nate; what am I, your housekeeper?" She muttered with a scowl, dumping his slowly congealing flakes in the bin before looking back at his wallet - which he had forgotten. Again.
Picking it up, a wicked smile appeared on Angel's face as she pulled out $20.
"Ah, sweet, sweet revenge. Boy should know that I have a fee for cleaning up his shit." Chuckling to herself as she stuffed the bill in her pocket, Angel grabbed her keys as she headed for the door. Little brother was treating her to breakfast at the cafe...
Upon arriving, Angel had taken up her favourite seat after ordering a bacon sandwich and chocolate milkshake from the counter - a little booth tucked away in the corner. Now, one could consider combining milk, chocolate and bacon to be an abomination, but for her, it was a perfectly balanced breakfast.
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