ooc; this is pretty long but that's just because i had it written up for an uber-advanced rp.
The city started to stir and the silvery wolf cracked open its golden eyes.
He stood up, unbalanced by the cushion of his mattress. Dash shook and soon the wolf melted away and in his place was an unamused, naked man. He halfheartedly brushed some of the silver fur from the dark duvet, gave up almost immediately and started his morning routine.
First underclothes, then dark pants-they were enchanted by witches to disappear when he changed and reappear when he changed back -an essential for all werewolves- then a steel blue button up. He grabbed his police jacket, HBPD in bold yellow on the back, Hell's Breach Police Department, from where he had angrily tossed the night before. He tenderly touched the bruise under his eye. Drunken night, drunken fight, ex-boyfriends could be douchebags. He grabbed the salve from his bed stand and hurried to the bathroom. Face, teeth, hair and out again, breakfast.
Dash ate quickly, a container of chocolate pudding he'd half eaten the night before and (more reluctantly) a green apple he wasn't sure why he bought. He grabbed his bag and packed the jacket in, he'd been at a crime scene before going out that night, the jacket had been forgotten in a rush to scrub his mind of the sickening images and it would need to be returned. Sadly his mistake meant a lengthy apology that anyone else would not be required. His rank at the police station was not the lowest, although low, and he had a work drive that rivaled many of his peers. When he'd joined the HBPD he thought it'd be an easy ride, a werewolf mix with two forms and a personal grudge against criminals, he was a perfect choice for the rough streets of the Breach.
He'd been proven an optimistic quite quickly
He grabbed his brown jacket and his tie, throwing both on with rehearsed movements. He reached back and the door clattered closed behind him, it was locked, checked and when satisfied Dash started down the five flights of stairs that signified the start of another work day. Dashiell exited the old brick apartment he had lived in for almost six years now and stepped out into the familiar business of the old cracked sidewalks of the brick district. The deeds here didn't change hands often and rows upon rows of old brick houses and shops earned the 8-block area its uncreative name. It had been his home for his entire life, although the house changed, and the harsh smells from the nearby mechanics and the more aromatic ones from the bakery/cafe that was only next door were the same as an early morning greeting.
The other thing the brick district hosted was the extraordinary difference in monsters. While same places still promoted purism the brick district was a haven for inter-marriages and mixed families. Because of this it wasn't uncommon to see werewolves playing beside vampires and banshees, mage's and witches married and adopted demons, his next door neighbours was a pure satyr and a dark elf who were raising their twin daughters, who both boasted their mixed blood. As he walked down the street a horned demon in arm with a shapeshifter smiled happily at him, recognizing him as the young friendly cop in the neighbourhood, if only he got treated like that everywhere.
Dashiell had always assumed that this district was how he managed to grow up so optimistic despite what he was. The mix of his blood had left him even worse of then the half-breeds that roamed the welcoming streets. In truth he didn't even know his complete lineage, he mother had escaped from a district like this and his father was a werewolf with a quarter human. What ever his mother was had left him tainted with demon, shade, and incubus.In hindsight it was a a complete stroke of luck he had developed any sort of powers, it was more often that a jumble caused no powers to manifest. It was because of his father's purer genes that he had gotten his ability to shift, the only powers his mother had granted him, that he was aware of, was the weaker second form of wolf and the ability to see souls. The mix had managed to make him weaker then most other werewolves with a single form as well. Still he used the mixed blood to his benefit whenever he could and was often the go to guy when they needed someone to go undercover in the shadier areas.
Soon he left the safer streets behind and now jogged lightly to reach his department. The old building was made of golden steels and silvered windows, it was a huge wonder in the middle of the technological buzz and the clank from the steam train that ran just two blocks away. The thunderous cry from its whistle reminded Dash of what he had forgotten, he was getting a new partner. 'How long will this one last?' He shoved his hands into his pockets and ducked into the building, ignoring the expected greetings, which were just kinder slurs. "Hey there mutt! Your new handler here yet?"
"Creative Harold." He said as he whisked past them and moved towards his desk. Harold was a reaper and ranked twice above Dash, that didn't make him bow down to him but he didn't act out against him publicly. He could feel Harold's glare on his neck as he made his way to the chiefs office. He tossed his bag on his desk, he'd deal with the jacket later. The wolves inside growled there frustrations in unison and Dash silenced them, not allowing his own emotions to stir. He was barely outside the door when the old, heavy-set chief called out from the cracked open oak door.
"He's supposed to be arriving on the eight o'clock, it is..." the grey haired man must have paused to check his watch, "8:03 my boy. Hurry so he doesn't loose himself in the banker gangs territory, they have wolves that smell cops." Dash rolled his eyes, the only cop that wolves could identify by scent was the chief, he wished he could plug his nose as even through the small crack in the door the smell of sweat and his expensive, disgusting, cologne was overpowering. Dashiell called out a quick 'yes sir!' and rushed as quickly out as he had in, stopping briefly to grab a HBPD police cap. He resisted the urge to turn and race to the tracks, it was frowned upon for werewolves and shifters to become animals without a reason. As a cop Dash had shifted to chase bad guys but changing in the bustle of the city often meant a sensory overload from the smells, sounds and souls, he didn't do it to often.
He made it to the tracks in record time and he made his way to a position where he could be easily spotted. If he remembered correctly his new partner was a pure vampire, which was an honest-to-god stroke of luck he had never expected. If his partner and him could get along it could be his chance to get out of his shit-hole district department. He moved in closer hoping the vampire would spot him in the crowd and put the hat on his head. Asher... Ashton he corrected himself, he wondered what kind of man was about to become his life line and escape rope. His golden eyes shimmered as the soul of a pure vampire became clear in the crowd, when Ashton had exited the crowd Dash rushed over to him.
The man was tall and very strong looking, Dash couldn't deny he was his type. He also looked like the perfect partner and Dash's excitement was starting to boil over. When he was in front the man he felt his nerves bubble up again and quickly suppressed them.
He smiled happily and stretched out his hand, "I'm Dashiell Parker, you're new partner I think. It's nice to meet you!" he sent up a silent prayer, please don't hate me or think me a mutt, "was your trip pleasant, you probably want to set up in your apartment before you go to the department?" He knew he was speaking in a rush and hoped he didn't appear to rude. But this might be his only chance and he was ready to impress... or bow down and please.
