☾

[AquilaFuga]

xxxxxx∟ basic information
full name . Natasha Wilkenson prefers to be called . Natasha
maiden names . n/a
nicknames & alias . n/a
species . human
current age in years . 31 age at death . chances are she’s gonna get shot three weeks before retirement anyway
date of birth . may 21st
place of birth . oxbrook, montana current residence . oxbrook, montana
sex at birth . female sex as of present day . female sexual orientation . bisexual
ethnicity / race . caucasian

xxxxxx ∟ body & appearance
body type . short with some curves
health . her health is in pristine condition
height . 5’2”
weight . 146 lbs.
skin . fair in the winter; tanned in the summer
notable scars / body modifications . bullet hole in her right shoulder; various cuts from knives and other sharp objects
tattoos & piercings . tattoo of a dragon spreading its wings across her back and shoulders; tattoo of handcuffs around her wrists
facial features . sort of an oblong facial structure with a button nose (slight bump in the bridge from when she broke it) and full lips; her ears are small and close to her head and her earlobes are unattached
hair description . naturally her hair is a wavy brown but she likes to dye it blonde sometimes; she wears it short
eye description . greenish-hazel eyes that observe everything around her with breathtaking intensity
habits of the body . constantly has a hard time sitting still. ticks suggest anxiety
Xxxxx∟chews on her bottom lip when she thinks
Xxxxx∟rocks back and forth when she reads
xxxxx∟ pulls at her hair when she’s frustrated
outfits of choice . mostly comfortable cotton clothes when she isn’t working; pantsuits or jeans with a blouse or button-down shirt when she is working
accessories . a silver necklace with a feather on it; four hoops in her ears; bracelets to cover her tattoos when she doesn’t wanna wear makeup on them
voice description . a feminine lilt that doesn’t match her bulldog-like personality

xxxxxx ∟ personality & important personal belongings
key tag words . determined, observant, unladylike, stubborn
overview . Natasha is a harsh woman when she’s working a case. She will stop at nothing until the truth is brought to light no matter how ugly it is. She has been known to disobey orders a time or two in order to solve her cases. She doesn’t like being told what to do and her loyalty to her community, her friends/family and those that she values is unshakable.
fatal flaw . her inability to let things go
saving grace . her keen detective instincts that somehow always manage to keep her alive and not jobless
favorite things . strong black coffee, soft things, cooking channels, her dog, solving her cases
dislikes . being wrong, being told what to do, sleeping (due to the fact that her sleep is plagued with nightmares)
phobias / fears . crowds, horses (after nearly being kicked by one)
talents / hobbies . quite skilled with video games despite her age; culinary artist in the kitchen
notable belongings . her entire kitchen is a chef’s [removed] dream; an old wooden music box with vines carved in the edges
pets . a massive black german shepherd named Chronos

xxxxxx∟ backstory & lineage
mother . Sabrina Lowell
father . Oscar Wilkenson
older siblings n/a
younger siblings . n/a
other notable relatives . none
spouse . Spencer Moore - divorced
children . Sabrina Nicole - daughter - stillborn
Xxxx Natasha had a pretty normal childhood in a house full of love and support. It wasn’t until she became involved with her first boyfriend, Spencer Moore, that things took a turn from good, to bad, to worst. [removed] When she got pregnant and lost her baby, though, Spencer left her in california where she got involved in a gang there. She fell in love with their leader and got a dragon tattoo on her back as tribute to him after he was shot and killed in a drive-by. After that she hunted down Spencer and they got back together. They married when she was twenty-two and divorced eight months later when she caught him cheating. She returned to her family in Montana, [removed]. She went into the police academy looking for some discipline and structure in her life, graduated top of her class, and went to work for two years as a cop before a groundbreaking case boosted her straight into a detective position at thirty. She’s been there for three months and loves almost every moment of it.

xxxxxx∟ extras
spotify playlist . fight song - rachel platten

[hell_hound]

Natasha Wilkenson loathed mornings with every fiber of her being. Anyone else would have considered the soft light streaming through the bedroom window curtains, the trilling birdsong outside, and the knowledge that she had lived through the night a blessing, but not this woman. She sat up in bed to the sound of her phone’s alarm blaring, her short, darkening hair literally sticking up in all directions, her tank top askew, and the taste of last night’s burrito still clinging to her tongue. Swearing to make a sailor blush, Natasha flung the covers away from herself and swung her feet to the floor. The ice-cold hardwood sent a shock through her that gave her enough energy to propel into the adjacent bathroom for her pre-breakfast routine. A potty break here, a facial inspection there and done.

Afterward, she padded into the kitchen and pushed the button on her coffee maker. Thanking her past self for having the foresight to prepare the maker the previous night, Natasha busied herself with microwaving one of those cold breakfast bowls. You know, the ones that you add an egg to before nuking it? Yeah, the joke was on her. Thirty seconds in the microwave and she had half-cooked egg bits all over the door. Another string of curses accompanied her to the freezer where she yanked out a couple of frozen waffles and offered them to the toaster as sacrifices. The microwave could wait. She needed food and coffee in her before she was even remotely ready to tackle the day.

Coffee done and waffles only still partly cool, she scarfed down her breakfast and retreated back into the bedroom. She cast her bed a longing glance. The dark circles and bags under her eyes urged her to return to its soft, secure warmth. The idea of crawling back between the blankets almost made her drool.

No, wait. She swiped at her chin.

Yeah, she was actually drooling.

Natasha sighed before continuing with the second half of her morning routine. She slipped into fresh undergarments, and then pulled charcoal slacks and a dusty-rose-colored silk blouse over them. She wasn’t much for pink, but she would buy almost anything on sale. Seventy-five percent off, baby. As for her hair, she tied it back the best she could. Then she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and apply a light layer of makeup to her face to hide the evidence of her restless sleep, as well as the new wrinkles that had seemingly popped up between breakfast and now.

She stepped into a pair of black heels and grabbed her purse on her way out of the room. In the kitchen once more, she exchanged her mug - a white abomination with a large red stop sign in the middle of it - for a tumbler, and then headed for the door.

The commute to work was the one morning task that Natasha actually enjoyed. While she sipped her coffee, she plugged the aux cord to her phone and listened to an audiobook as she drove. Sometimes she stopped to get more coffee from the little shop on the corner near the police department. Sometimes she also brought donuts. Yes, she enabled the stereotype but she didn’t care. Fried dough and sugar gave her life.

Once she’d made it to work in one piece, she normally spent the rest of her morning going over files and suspect information, but this time was different. This time, when she stepped through the doors she was overwhelmed with the buzzing activity of the department. She set the box of donuts on the nearest surface and caught the arm of a rookie cop whose name she would forget the moment he told her.

“What’s going on?” she demanded.

The poor kid ran a nervous hand through his hair. It was clearly his first day; she felt for the guy.

“There’s been a murder. They thought it was an animal attack, but the saliva sample came back as human. Or, rather something close to human.”

Well. Her morning just got a whole lot more interesting.

[hell_hound]

Natasha watched this dumpster fire of a woman from the moment the officers hauled her into the chief’s office to the moment she waltzed right out as if being questioned by the chief of police himself was the most normal part of her daily routine. It would have been admirable to the detective if it wasn’t both infuriating and perplexing. But there was nothing to be done. Not about that, at least. However, there was one thing Natasha could do that had apparently slipped her colleagues’ minds.

She turned to her boss, listened to what he had to say, and then accepted the files with a nod of acknowledgement. Then she turned and followed the infamous Constance Rivera toward the exit. Constance hadn’t the chance to go far before Natasha caught up to her. The detective didn’t hesitate to brush her hand against the other woman’s arm to make her pause. It was the lightest of touches, but the skin-on-skin contact sent a bolt of lightning through Natasha. Not in a rom-com sort of way, either.

It was the same sense of danger a mouse felt when coming face to face with a cat.

Or a deer being alerted to the sudden presence of a wolf.

She dropped her hand, opting instead to tuck the manila folders beneath her arm before speaking. “Constance? My name is Detective Wilkenson. I’ve been assigned to your case. I just wanted you to know that no matter what I will find out who murdered your wife and that woman on your property. I won’t lie, the odds look pretty bad for you, but it’s not my job to judge.” She fished a card from her wallet and handed it over. It had her name, badge number, office number and extension. “If there’s anything you know or any information you can possibly provide for the case, don’t hesitate to drop by or call. Day or night, I’ll answer.” Natasha dipped her head before turning to walk away. Before she did, though, she paused, eyeballing the wild-looking female. A crooked smirk touched her lips for a moment. “By the way, I could believe the werewolf thing. You look like you’d fit the bill.”

With a flickering wave, she returned to her office to begin the investigation process. This wouldn’t be the last time Constance would have to deal with her. It wouldn’t even be the last time they saw each other that day. Once Detective Frost clocked in for the day, the two would be off to Constance’s land and the scene of the crime alongside forensics and everyone else required to process said scene.

It wasn’t only Natasha’s day that had gotten more interesting, it seemed.

[hell_hound]

The moment Detective Frost arrived for work, Natasha briefed him on everything from the recent murder to the arrival and disappearance of Constance Rivera. Because of her infamy around the department, Natasha wasn’t surprised to see the expression of familiarity and recognition flash across the other detective’s face. What did surprise her, however, was the swiftness in which Frost shot into action. He had her in his car and on the way to the Rivera estate within minutes of her finishing her briefing. He said not a word to her along the way except to warn her that “something” was “off” about the Rivera family. He refused to elaborate beyond that, which irked the female detective to no end. How was she supposed to help people and do her job if no one would explain just what in the world they meant? Why did everyone in this town have to be so cryptic?

Frost pulled into the driveway less than half an hour later, which was impressive when one considered the fact that the estate was at least a forty-five to sixty minute drive from the station. Natasha couldn’t tell you how many traffic violations her partner committed in his haste to get to their destination. Once back at the department, she would need to sit him down and explain that unless there’s an emergency there’s no reason to drive like a madman fresh out of the pen.

As was her duty and her nature, Natasha surveyed her surroundings as she and Frost walked up to the front door of what appeared to be the main house. The estate was beautiful; she hadn’t known their dinky town could be so picturesque. Trees and natural wildflowers made up most of the backdrop while somewhere in the distance a creek babbled. Birdsong filled the air. Bees bumbled along their paths to the nearest source of pollen. It would have been a truly peaceful place to live had two of the oddest, most dangerous things happened simultaneously within the next minute and a half.

Natasha had just raised her fist to knock on the door when a massive animal suddenly appeared next to Frost’s vehicle. Frost, seeming to know exactly what it was, lifted his gun and pointed the barrel at the point between the animal’s eyes. Natasha could tell from the expression on his face that he would have shot had someone’s hand not knocked his arm to the side and caused the bullet meant for the animal to go lodging itself into the dirt near the wolf’s paws.

The female detective’s training kicked in at once. She unholstered her weapon with the intent only to use it as a means of defense, but before she could do much of anything else the chaos was over.

“What was that?” she demanded of Frost.

However, before the other detective could answer, the door of the cabin opened once more.

Natasha hesitantly returned her gun to its place on her hip, and then turned toward whoever had opened the door. She already had an apology waiting on her tongue.

[hell_hound]

Natasha stepped into the cabin after Frost. For obvious reasons, she was certainly glad she wasn’t the one that had shot the poor pet. One, she was a fan of animals and planting a bullet between one’s eyes would have almost been enough for her to swear off guns for the rest of her life and two, she would have hated to be in Frost’s shoes in that moment. The monstrous men in that house eyeballed him as if they wanted to tear him limb from limb and they very well could have. Natasha was no fool; she wouldn’t have stood a chance against the two of them if they decided to attack her partner. She had quite a decent background in combat, but the sheer size of those brutes would’ve tested every ability and skill she’d acquired in all her years of law enforcement.

Turning away from the men in the room, Natasha focused her attention on Constance. Of course, Constance was only a small piece of the things she observed. She took note of every miniscule detail of that room and the people in it for future reference. Including the mud on Constance’s feet and the fact that her muddy footprints only went halfway up the stairs before doubling back down, as if she hadn’t gone all the way upstairs at all. And there was a river nearby… Of course, that only proved she had spent some time near the water and hadn’t made it all the way up the steps before being interrupted. So, perhaps the mud meant nothing at all.

“I apologize for all the trouble we’ve caused,” Natasha told her, “as well as for barging in so soon after your, erm, departure from the station earlier. My partner thought it would be best to contact you again while the information is still fresh.”

She pulled from her pocket a small notepad and a pen. “I’d like to ask you some questions about the scene on your property.”

[hell_hound]

Upon hearing this new tidbit of information, Natasha narrowed her eyes to near slits. Why hadn’t she been made aware of the new developments? She glared at Bartholomew with hot coals for eyes, but ultimately decided it was neither the time nor the place to confront her partner about whether or not he found it necessary to enlighten her to new information before coming to a suspect or witness’s place of residence. She forced her features to return to a soft yet neutral expression. It would be unprofessional for the civilians to see her temper.

“While I was certainly unaware of the change in information,” Natasha hedged, trying but failing to keep the strain out of her voice, “rest assured we aren’t making any accusations. We aren’t placing anyone under arrest. We’re simply here to gather information to help our case.” She turned her gaze back to Constance. “But it seems we’ve overstayed our welcome. I apologize again for my partner’s unprovoked violence toward your dog. She’s lovely, by the way. I love wolves.”

Natasha moved toward the door, taking in the sights as she moved without being too obvious. As she reached for the doorknob and slipped out the door, she added over her shoulder, “There’s going to be a search party for Violet tomorrow morning at dawn nearby. You’re welcome to join, as is the rest of your family. The more people we have looking for her the better chance we have of finding her or at least some evidence for her case.”

And with that she was gone, stalking toward Frost’s car with her temper rising.

He was going to get an earful.

[hell_hound]

The following morning found Natasha Wilkerson standing on a trail on the Rivera property in a long-sleeved flannel shirt and jeans tucked into hiking boots that looked very worn and had seen better days. A pair of aviator sunglasses sat on the bridge of her nose, which she pulled down to give Constance a once-over upon approach. The woman was good-looking, Natasha would give her that. However, that wasn’t the reason for Natasha’s obvious glance.

“You look like someone shook your hornet’s nest,” she remarked, sliding the glasses back up her nose. “I get it. I don’t like being told what to do, either. Especially not by Frosty the Snowman over there.” She jerked her thumb toward her partner.

After deciding to follow the less beaten trails of the property, the two women headed off. Natasha fell silent as her training took over. She observed every rock and tree, took notes of particular landmarks. It wasn’t until she came across her fifth set of large animal tracks that she paused. She knelt in the dirt and brushed her fingers over the marks. The thing was the size of her fist or more. Some dog paws were big, but not that big. Curious, she craned her head up to look at Constance, who was preoccupied with something else.

“You said your dog is pretty much entirely wolf, but there are too many tracks here for just one animal. Is this a common stomping ground for your pet?” she asked, lowering her shades again.

[hell_hound]

Natasha wasn’t certain she heard Constance correctly when the other woman informed her that wolves were on their trail. Sure, this was a rugged piece of land, but from what little wildlife biology she had taken in college, Natasha understood wolves to be rather shy. They only ever attacked people out of necessity like defense or food. Yet even she could hear the faint steps and crunching undergrowth behind her as something large passed through it. Natasha got to her feet. She dusted her hands off on her pants and glanced to the side where Constance stood.

The expression on the blonde’s face told her all she needed to know in the moment. Constance knew something - what that something was would be up for debate later assuming they weren’t both mauled to death - and whether she was ready to admit it or not, whatever she knew and was hiding could prove vital to the investigation. Just as she saw a flash of brown sneaking through the shadows, Natasha decided to trust Constance for now. She didn’t say a word as she turned and headed back toward the top of the ravine. She walked calmly and with purpose so as not to initiate a chase just in case there were actual wolves behind her.

She didn’t turn back around until she had reached the top. She held a hand out to Constance to help her, but doing so proved to be a mistake.

A massive tawny wolf sprang out of nowhere and sank its teeth into her exposed arm. Natasha yelled in pain and surprise as blood dripped from the wound. The wolf tore past her toward Constance, but paused when it was a mere handful of feet away. Its hackles formed a ridgeline down its back. Its tail was stiff and in the air as it eyeballed her. Natasha cradled her wounded arm to her chest. Every instinct in her body told her to run, but she wasn’t about to leave Constance alone during an attack like this. She became a cop to protect people. She wasn’t going to stop now.

Unfortunately, before Natasha could draw her weapon and shoot, something hard and blunt smacked into the back of her head. She collapsed to the forest floor like a sack of bricks.

Ezekiel stood behind the detective, fist still raised. He turned to Constance and the wolf prowling between them. He didn’t know what David’s lap dog wanted, but he knew Natasha didn’t need to be privy to the explosion that was sure to follow.

[hell_hound]

She was having the weirdest yet coolest dream she’d had to date. She stood in the middle of the forest, surrounded on all sides by the tallest trees and brightest wildflowers. Instead of her old police uniform or her typical pantsuit, she wore jeans and a long, flowing tank top in this dream. Natasha gazed around her in wonder as she took in all the sights this strange land provided. Through the thick trunks of the trees she could see an endless landscape stretching out while overhead the stars were beginning to blink into existence as night fell. Yet when the cold moon finally made its appearance, Natasha wasn’t shivering. She wasn’t warm, but she wasn’t freezing, either. And that wasn’t even the weird part.

The weird part came in the form of a large, black wolf standing in the shadows a few feet in front of her. The beast’s eyes glowed in the moonlight. It prowled to the right and Natasha’s eyes followed it. She knew she should have been afraid, but no fear came. Only intrigue and… something else. Something warm that bloomed in her chest and spread to the tips of her fingers and toes. Natasha reached out with one hand toward the animal. The wind billowed at her top and played in her hair, which had returned to its natural brown and grown past her shoulder blades. In return, the wolf stepped out of the darkness. It continued to walk to her until her fingers were inches away from touching its long muzzle. That sense of warmth turned to elated suspense. Would the wolf bite her? Maim her? Or would it allow Natasha the simple pleasure of physical contact?

Yet before her dream could reach its ambiguous conclusion, Natasha was pulled back into a reality of pain and confusion. She opened her eyes with a groan. The burning in her arm had subsided. When she glanced down at it, she saw someone had bandaged her up. But when she looked away from it and into the same eyes as the animal in her dream, her heart began to hammer. Gone was the feelings of warmth and wonder. In their places were fright and the primal instinct that a predator had found her.

“What in the everloving f-”

Ezekiel’s fist came down again and Natasha’s world once more went dark. When the others eyeballed him, their mouths hanging open, the large man rolled one shoulder in a shrug.

“She’ll be fine. We need to be more concerned about her finding out our secret and what Clark and David were doing on our land.”

[hell_hound]

Natasha didn’t dream this time. No, the only thing floating around her was darkness. It consumed everything in her surroundings until she was literally standing in what she could only assume was a black hole. All her life, her religious family had told her that after death was a life unimaginable. Gold gates on silver clouds. Saints and forgiven sinners all mingling around beautiful fountains with trumpets playing in the background. Of course, this world only existed for believers and those that had been forgiven. The other world that waited for neither of these types of people was supposedly full of fire and brimstone, molten lakes of lava with murders and wrong-doers screaming as they swam.

But maybe they were wrong. Maybe this blackness was death.

Death was peaceful.

And then her eyes opened to the brightest lights and stark white walls and she knew she would never be that lucky. Groaning, Natasha sat up in bed, clutching her head, and surveyed her new surroundings. Clearly, someone had taken her to the hospital, but why? What had happened that warranted such drastic measures? She tried to stand, but froze when she saw who sat in the chair across the room, fast asleep in a position that looked about as far from comfortable as one could get.

Not wanting to wake her, Natasha got to her wobbly feet and padded over to Constance, blanket in hand. She spread the scratchy rectangle of fabric over the sleeping woman. Then, despite the pounding in her head and the haze over her mind, Natasha went out to the hallway to locate a doctor.

She needed answers.