No Really, We're Sheep
Athletic dark haired woman of mid to late 20s, wearing a pair of old slim jeans, a loose fit button up shirt and a long deep brown, formed coat.
A dark haired woman of mid to late 20s, with fair skin and haunting blue eyes. She wears her hair loose in a ponytail down her back, smoothed from regular brushing and combing, but uncomplicated like a working style that has slipped over the day. Her athletic frame shows through her slim worn jeans, worn from love, not for style, and her button up shirt, nice, hardly fashionable, but not without some merits. Worn loosely over this is a long coat, a dark brown, almost black, but catching a redish sheen in the light, again, worn, but nice, loved, not styled. Her small utility purse hangs off her right shoulder, its design fairly basic, dark leather, gold buckles and links, taken care of, but showing its use. Her shoes are a pair of dark sneakers, looking like they are made for city walking, not athletic endeavors, honestly, they’re cute. She carries a wandering gaze, not absently, more of taking in her environment, looking for clues or things out of the ordinary, but is quick to smile. Her makeup is light, more office worker than receptionist, lipstick, eye liner, maybe a touch of blush, but nothing overt. She has the look of a woman who is confident, capable, and more importantly, comfortable with herself. Behind that look though, the predator lurks, kept well in cage, but ready to pounce when set free, her feral nature leaks through her eyes and smiles and cheer may mask it, it cant totally hide it forever.
Bridgette Floros, Tribe, Black Fury, born under the gibbous moon, oldest daughter to Linda and Gary Floros and staunch defender of women and children. Bridgette transformed into her greater being, both literally and metaphorically, and sought out a new outlet for her life. During her training to become a police officer, she saw men hurting women, children and often times get away with it. When she asked how they did, her answers were realistic, but deeply unfullfilling; things like, we just dont have enough evidence, or we cant do anything if she wont press charges. Completely reasonable reasons, but to a person with not only a deeper connection to the world but also a burning fire in her, they were anyting but reasonable. Dropping out of her training, she became “free-lance”, taking on jobs where a victim simply didnt feel like the law could do anything about it. It didnt take more than one of these jobs to see that the problems of these women were not individual, but systemic, and it also only took that one job to see she needed to be “justified” in her involvement in these types of cases. Going to night school and taking some classes earned her an associates in law and a license to serve as a P.I, and with that, she could investigate and deal with cases as needed to be done. It didnt take long before a police officer made the connection between disappearances of grade-A assholes and Bridgette, but his daughter’s abusive husband suddenly went missing and she got her life back together. It was enough to make him broach the subject, but not act on it.
During her various raids, she ended up acquiring money and goods of not insignificant quantity, but not needing or wanting that tainted money, she reinvested it, setting up women’s shleter and half way homes and rather than simply following the guidelines of their behavior typical of such places, she took a genuine interest in the women there. She tried to mentor them (despite being younger than many) and help them to get their lives back together. But more importantly, she taught them that the value of a woman is not dictated by a man, rather by themselves, and while men may be physically stronger than them, men are the weaker sex. She instilled a sense of community amoungst them, teaching them that indiviually they may feel weak, but together, as a pack, they were strong, and in time, that is what she considered them, her human pack. A group of women from all walks of life, sharing only their need to support each other and in time, the strength gained from one another. Unbeknownst to many, she also found a good deal of Kinfolk, women with garou blood in their veins, but dilluted too much to be wolves. She would take them to their own little moots, include them in her tribe and begin to trust them with the responsibilities of running the homes. The work she and her kin did for the community would not make headlines across the country, but in her little corner of the earth, she was making a difference.
Her parents, Linda and Gary still live in the town, Gary, a 911 operator and Linda, well, Linda is “out-doorsy”. They had a total of 4 children, although one of them, their third, a boy named Robert, was sent to live with his Uncle and Aunt out of town, and in exchange were sent Julie in his place. When asked about it, they said that after he reached puberty, a new allergy formed and the air here was not good for him, better to live with his Aunt and Uncle in the mountains away from the allergens. While not a very good excuse, people kind of bought it, because the truth was something they could never accept. The truth is that Robert was also a Garou, but Black Fury laws dictate that they accept no male garou in their tribe, save for metis, so Robert was sent from Linda, “Thunder Jaw” to live with Alistaire Humphrey, or Alistaire “Calming Breeze”, a Child of Gaia Philodox. in exchange, they sent their neice, a kinfolk named Julie, a delightful girl with a strong belief in the Child of Gaia teaching, but a willingness to understand the Furies. Bridgettes’s other 2 siblings, Matthew and Felicia are both kin, Matthew is studying medicene but Felicia helps closely with Bridgette and is in charge of a women’s shleter named Safety Grove which has received numerous awards. The entire family makes regular trips to see brother Robert and “uncle” Alistaire, and these usually end with some fun filled family activity like cook outs, pic-nics or for the “select” family members, a good old fashioned hunt.
Bridgette is currently between boyfriends, her last one, Craig, got a little put out by her not “letting him be the man in the relationship” and went out to try and bang one of the women Bridgette seemed to hang out with a lot. A broken nose and bruised rib later, Craig began to hang out with a different crowd, and as much as she may not like it, the slutty girls he likes are very easy with a couple drinks in them. Bridgette would be lying to herself if she didnt say that she was jealous, she really liked Craig, he was handsome, funny and really nice, if a little too old fashioned and a little too shovanistic. He was a product of his upbringing, and while it was nice to have him open doors and walk around holding hands, a girl can only take having her words interrupted so that he can order for her in a restaurant so many times. I mean, she gets it, hes trying to prove how much he knows her and how much he pays attention and whats more, it was kind of sweet that he took such an interest in what she liked to drink with what and what she liked to eat where, but god dammit, shes not a trophy! She can order for herself, thank you, and yes she may like what he was ordering for her, but she can order for herself, shes not a child. Still…he was really nice…and had a great butt.
Bridgette still maintains close ties with the Police department, joining them for coffee and selling tickets to the police-“person’s” ball and helping them with investigations. Many of the cops swear she must be part dog or something for how quickly she seems to sniff out clues, sometimes even seeing her sniffing at something. They all laugh it off, saying, “you know, once i smelled it, it was really hard to miss”, or “you really could smell something was wrong in there”, never really letting their minds hover on the idea that she actually seemed to have a nose for crime. This closeness has kept her chummy with most of the department, not surprisingly, the women and has kept some questions from being raised further than from behind closed doors. Everyonce in a while, the questions would come up, it is unavoidable, but when they did, most of the station was advised to keep quiet about it. “We dont know anything for sure, but what i do know is Bridgette saved my cousin’s life. Got her off drugs and turned her life around. If that rapist is Cell 6 ends up dead in a week or 2, who cares. Let it be, no one important needs to know.” The station didnt have actual evidence, just an all around hunch about things, everyone “knew”, but no one actually knows, especially because most of the time, the bodies dont turn up for weeks and usually look like theyve been worked over by animals. Never any sign of being tied or bound, never any signs of wounds, aside from whatever the animals caused and never any sort of means of death, just look like they were eaten by wild animals. It was shady, loose and by no means justified, but the police were ok with it, the crime rate in the city was dropping little bit by little bit. And if the local pervert ends up missing, sure its suspicious and yes, its probably foul play and criminal, but no one was calling for these disappearances to stop, and no one was digging deeper than the surface.
And that is where we find Bridgette Floros, a more or less insignificant part of the community, volunteering her time at women’s shelters and half way homes, spending time with her family and doing the occasional P.I work including finding missing pets and serving court summons. Shes well liked by the community, but no outstanding star amoungst them, the ones that know her like her a lot, calling her a “classy bitch” and “girl power”, while those who dont know her tend to fear her. Not overtly, they arent legitimately scared of her, theres just something about her, like seeing the wolf on the other side of the bars in the zoo, staring at you like it knows it could rip your throat out before you could scream and you are safe as long as you are on This side of the bars. Something primal about her, it unnerves women and sets men on edge, but also makes her dangerous and exciting, and while this attracts some, calmer, more down to earth people would rather keep their distance.