A Chance Encounter

Walking into the bar with a sneer on his face and his usual cocky walk, Alfie nodded to the others that sat around drinking. His large black Mohawk received some attention as others saw that he had arrived and so proceeded to shout hellos and give the odd wave to him; the Aryan Soldiers practically owned the Leaky Pipe, their little corner of Toxeth was firmly in their grip and over the years people had gone from resenting them in some cases to just accepting the gang with everyone getting sucked into the hate culture. “Oi! Charlie, gimme a pint o’ ye finest stuff pal!” He shouted towards the bar with an air of casual happiness, they’d won the basketball court again, and that meant it was theirs for another week. He had booze, his friends, and there wasn’t a Blanker or a Foreigner in sight.

He sat down at the cracked bar, disrepair all around; but he didn’t mind it and found himself whistling along with the static-filled radio that was blasting out tapes of “The Bastards,” the gang’s resident punk band that blasted out rhetoric filled music to the masses. In the background there was the buzz of conversation, and as he got his pint the Werewolf cub took a deep drink before setting it down, chatting to everyone around him about stupid little things that meant very little. It was a night to relax, and forget about “the good fight,” and as he gazed about the seedy bar that was clean, if falling apart, and he felt calm and at home. "Can ya believe the fuckin' biters Sol? Comin' ere when we give em the chance to try and win the court for a week an' they try and start a fight, wankers," he said in the accent that was a little bit Scouse, a little bit Cockney, and all dripping with aggression.

"Well Alfie, the other gangs won't give a shit as long as they's gettin' a chance to win the court next week eh?"

It wasn't exactly the best of places to go look for her fledgling but she heard some rumors about this place, some rather shady fellows were here and maybe just maybe her fledgling was in there somewhere not becoming a hooligan. She walked into the seedy bar and look out of place in there, her long dirty blond hair and pale skin seemed to blend in a little but her black dress with the short skirt and the suitcase obviously didn't and the sunglasses to hide her eyes didn't help either.
Looking around she noticed something this bar looked like shit. At least to here not to say the least of the patrons one had a mohawk and something about him felt off to her shrugging it off she walked over to the bar hoping to get some questions in before any one realized what she was.
Excuse me.sir ? she called over to the bar tender.

Pulling his leather jacket off and placing it on the bar, Alfie’s tattoos came on show as well as his collection of scars. Finishing his pint and calling for another the large man stretched. It was then he noticed the new woman, she wasn’t in the gang, and it was strange for anyone else to come into the heart of the Soldier’s territory, even if they were police, but she didn’t seem like some foreigner so he was more intrigued than angry. “Missy, who the ‘ell are you?” He asked, the SS Sig runes being made apparent from the stretch with the vest he wore not concealing his muscular frame and the various hate stamps of his allegiance covering it. He turned to the left to face her on his stool; the black swastika adorning his chest poking out. Grabbing the fresh pint that Charlie brought him; the Skinhead took a sip, enjoying the cooling and relaxing nectar as he awaited his answer.

His boots knocked against the bar lightly, and his free hand stayed on his knee, smirking to himself he was focussing his attention on what the woman had to say, “Charlie’s busy at the moment, there’s a load of thirsty lads in ‘ere he ‘as to keep topped up; so I’m here, whaddya ‘ave to say?”

Casandra was not amused at all by this man, his messy appearance was bad enough but he seemed to flaunt off his muscles and were those SS sig runes ? And what was that poking out his top of it was a swastika. At this range her rather curvy body was no doubt in view I doubt you could help me she said staring at his eyes, something about them seemed savage to her, he wasn't some random hooligan You can go back to your drink boy she growled at him, sliding her glasses down a little shooing her dull crimson eyes glaring at him, looking like she was about to kill him.

"Boy eh? Well aren't you a strange one, and those eyes..." He said, his voice trailing off slightly as he saw the red. "And trust me if you need anything around here I can normally 'elp luv," he said, reaching for his drink. Sipping he stopped when he heard Sol speak.
"Fucking 'ell, don't come in 'ere trying to throw your weight around or you'll soon regret it!" He said, a contemptuous sneer forming.
Standing up Alfie spun around and growled out "Listen Sol, I don't need ya ta try and fight me battles, so 'ave some manners and stop trying to start a fucking fight in Charlie's bar." Grabbing his friend he lifted him up and brought his head closer to his "Understand matey?"

"Y..YEAH Alfie, jus' put me down ya big bastard!"

"Fine," placing him back on his seat the big man laughed aloud with some of his anger dissipating, not realising the glimpse of the Nazi eagle wing on his shoulder blade he was giving to the woman, and the view of his tattered ears and all the burns and cuts covering his back. "Trust me luv, I know everyone around 'ere so why not try being civil, y'know like I am, and ask yer fucking question. Either that or jus' piss off because this is my territory and I don't give a shit who you are" he paused, "But I don't have any fucker coming in looking down their noses at us and trying t'cause trouble even if we're both English 'ere... especially when they want help."

This was enough for her, Casandra couldn't stand to be in here another minute longer the big one was sprinkled in nazi tattoos, everyone else was the same most likely and she was about to go on a rampage if one more of them tried to threaten her. She removed her glasses something about this boys words rang in her head for a moment before she looked into his eyes again Oh I should have known grumbling she put the glasses back on, figuring out the man was a werewolf, it was his eyes that gave it away so savage and so young It seems I was wrong coming here.. she said ready to walk off. Her fledgling had a rather sour history with werewolves, she thought he would never come to a place that held one even a cub.

"Ya should've known what!?" Alfie said, an air of tight jawed anger coming out of him as his entire body clenched for a second; tapping Casandra on the shoulder he locked eyes with her; his teeth showing "Before you get all haughty with us, remember you fuckin' came in 'ere luv, and after spendin' seven years in a freakin' cell I don't like to spend the end of my first week as a free man getting talked down to." He said, his hands formed fists and his whole demeanor spoke of well honed violence. He was unrefined, and his stance showed it; he was almost daring Casandra to try and cause trouble... then he relaxed when a teenager around 19 got in between him and Casandra.

"Alfie, come on, no need to get violent," his younger sibling said.

Grumbling, the Gang Leader relaxed his fists; his lopsided grin turning from one of violence to a more peaceful and relaxed one. Ruffling his shorter, and younger, brother's hair he folded his arms. "Well, before you go at least tell us what ya wanted eh? We may be able to help, maybe not; either way no 'arm in asking eh?"

Casandra was non to happy about the tap on the shoulder, turning around she was ready to simply back hand the foolish cub. However a younger boy stood between them her hand wavered not wanting to harm him despite the fact he could easily just be like the bigger one. I told you before. I was wrong coming here she stared at him for a moment The person I am looking for doesn't do so well with wolves it was vague but she at least hoped it was enough of an answerer for him to back down.

With that she turned around and made her way to the door hopefully the cub didn't attack her, fighting a werewolf in her current condition would be tough and there was no doubt this one could be tougher than most cubs.

Turning back to his booze Alfie shook his head and turned away from the strange woman, he couldn't give a shit what she wanted by this point; he had offered his help and she had tried to be a tough fucker. It wasn't his fault she couldn't remain at least a little civil in a bar full of "Aryan Soldiers," sitting back at the bar he ordered another drink, sliding a note across the bar towards Charlie, the barman slid it right back "Sol and t'rest have paid for you tonight mate so just drink ye fill eh?"

Nodding in thanks Alfie merely sipped it this time, "Cheers Sol, anyway, Drummer boy!" He shouted, waving other his younger brother "When t'fuck are The Bastards playing next eh? Fuckin' Ollie seems to be arranging it for during the week but we seriously need a fuckin' celebration party eh?" He said with a laugh, his mood picking up as he took a long swallow of his booze. Things were looking good again, and to be honest he couldn't be bothered to fight them woman at the moment; especially if there was a chance at wrecking the Leaky Pipe anymore... it was damaged enough as it was and it'd be unfair to the generous barman.