Parkour!

Warehouse District 
#1
Grabbing a cup of coffee with a coworker had been fine. Locke had reservations at first, Donald was a self proclaimed entomologist with a concerning interest in spiders. But, Donald had toned down the weird enough to make their conversation nice and light. That didn't mean Locke was gonna invite the dude to his house or anything, but getting friendlier with work mates was always a good idea.

Only with the workday over, he had no where to be and some leftover energy to burn. Wandering a bit, he stopped in the middle of a vacant street. Locke looked up. Hmm. With a little acrobatics and a hint of were strength....

Fuck it, he's gonna go for it.

Locke secured a foothold on the brick siding and swung himself up to the awning above a darkened store front. From there it was a race against body weight settling over thin metal and then into the deeper window well. He did it. Elated, Locke let out a shout of success from his perch and pumped his fist.

This would be a nice place to hang out and hello free building wifi.
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#2

Cool thing about being a street artist was you were sometimes paid to paint shops that existed on streets that really only got passed through during the busier hours for traffic, and a sketchier crowd durning the later ones. But he couldn't expect much from a bike shop, which had booked him to do a pretty basic mural on their garage doors the depicted their logo and a bike. It was easy shit, and he was already done by the time the streets started to feel a little desolate. Job done, he was heading back toward where he'd parked a ways down in an actual parking garage.

He spied the dude up ahead, idly noting him but not paying much attention. Until, of course, he went all spider man and clambered up into a window of a shop. Asher eyed him with a raised brow as his path carried him down the sidewalk toward that storefront, his head craned some. As he neared, the ever chattering, squeaky bitch in the back of his mind rushed into the center of attention. It griped loudly, puffing up and spitting in the back of his brain as the smell hit him. This wasn't some ordinary dude. He could have guessed that by his acrobatics. Asher slowed up, his fists in his pockets and his head tilted up to peer at the dude.

A quick glance around, then he shot up a, "Your furry friend good at climbing?" His, apparently, was.
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#3
He'd been searching through the extensive library of games on his phone when a noise from below caused his mindless scrolling to pause. Someone stood on the street, casually looking up as if Locke was normal decor to a second floor window. Face blank, he set down the phone to fully process the guy's words.

Such a weird thing to say. Locke would have left it at that had his bear not batted forcefully at his brain, telling him to pay attention. Because, oh. Guy also had a friend, something rather unbearlike, but a furry friend of his furry friend was also his...friend. That's confusing. Anyway, the guy shared a similar secret and that was all Locke needed to know.

"He can be. Yours?" Keeping the conversation purposely vague, although the bear was curious enough for both of them.
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#4
Do big and smelly and sometimes good at climbing. Asher chuckled some as the question was returned. "Expert level." Though it was amazing how something so round and fat could get itself up into a tree. He looked from the dude to the street around them. "So, what? Playing floor is lava?" Obviously not, but there had to be a reason for it.
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#5
Locke was in no way skilled at telling other species apart. His knowledge extended from bear to not-bear, and while this guy's beast obviously enjoyed rolling around outdoors, he had nothing else to go on.

And dude, playing floor is lava? "Naw man, just bored."He grinned, carefree. Besides, lava game was a drag to play alone, no fun if you can't shove someone into the quote unquote lava.

"So what's you deal?" He asked, casually crossing a leg over his knee.
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#6
Weird way to entertain yourself, but Asher could dig it. It did sort of look like a pretty cool place to hang. Asher eyed the awning. I wouldn't be a hard jump. At the question, he shrugged. "Dunno. Just headed home, but you're kinda distracting." He informed him, not in a shitty way, just. He was. Asher wasn't Mr. Social Butterfly, so most of this was him just winging this, but there was something about walking away from someone he knew was at least a bit like him that felt wrong. He still had that Alex chick's number, but she hadn't volunteered to be a fountain of information. Felt like he'd need to do this the gradual way.

So, with that. Asher vaulted forward, up, and onto the awning. He'd done plenty fucking around in the trainyard growing up to manage it, and the racoon helped him be nimble enough to settle onto the window beside the dude's. It was a pretty neat few, peering down at the street that was illuminated gold by the setting sun. "So, what kind of animal 'can be' a climber?" He posed, fixing his palms to the edge of the window sill and leaning forward some to peer over at the guy.
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#7
Distracting was a new one. Locke found he liked the odd compliment, if it was intended to be a compliment that is. His head rolled to rest on a shoulder, glancing down at the guy. Should he jump down and continue the conversation face to face? Taking down to someone, even with such a understandable height difference, felt sort of..dickish. Only, the other were made the decision for him.

"Whoaaa." He whispered, admiring the dexterity on the guy. The bear got by mostly on sheer strength, but this dude moved like a monkey with a full range of motion. Oh man, a monkey were. Probably looked like a crazy jacked Orangutang, which were already jacked as fuck.

But they were apparently sharing and at least this time Locke was telling an actual were. "A bear." He spoke with a hint of pride. Bears were awesome, no contest. "You some kind of cat maybe?" Those liked to climb. And it was a much safer bet than a mountain goat or something.
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#8
A fucking. Bear?

"Fuck, dude." He'd already sort of grasped the concept that shifters were oversized. All the news and stories online. So imagining a Super Sized bear... It, ultimately made him feel small. It didn't help that he was pinned as some sort of cat. "Pft." No, but probably as big as one. "Try raccoon. Of all fucking things." He moved to grab a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, because this seemed like a cool place to do that. If, uh, permitted. "You mind?" He asked, and held up the box. He knew how rank they smelled as a human, and as a shifter it was twice as bad. Thanks, nicotine.
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#9
The existence of were raccoons was the most hilarious thing he’d heard in months. "You’re serious?" A were raccoon, imagine that. Locke scoffed in disbelief, running a hand down his chin. "That must of been a shock." His face shifted to consideration. "But to be fair so was the bear." Thinking about it, raccons ran rampant everywhere in the states, so meeting a were raccoon, much less getting bit by one, had to a higher probability then say a were tiger. He hadn’t met a were tiger, but if they existed there had a be like only five.

They guy lit up and Locke waved him off. "It’s cool." The bear wasn’t a fan, but it’d sacrifice in the name of nice big bath later. With the bubbles, the bear sent a very clear picture of its demands. Fine. With the bubbles.

"You’ve been uh raccooning long?" Hey had he just made up a new phrase? Dude c’mon. There couldn’t already be a phrase in urban dictionary about ‘raccooning.’


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#10
Yeah, pretty huge surprise considering he found out by turning into one during sex. He wasn't about to share that, though, no matter how chill the dude seemed. Asher huffed out a laugh at the term 'raccooning', oblivious to its other connotation, as he lit the end of the cigarette and took a small puff. "Uhhh, about..." Well, how long? How many times had he woken up naked and confused? Eight, counting the time he'd voluntarily shifted and woken up with a fuck ton of bite marks... and the time with Alice. "Six months?" A rough guess. He didn't know. "Not like I remember most of it." Deep drag, huffy exhale in the most opposite direction from the dude's face he could get.
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#11
Six months was next to nothing, Locke barely remembered the entire first year of his transformations. The only hard evidence was an impressive trail of destruction and going through so many clothes he strongly considered investing in break-away outfits. He was so glad to done with those days. "I feel you dude." Locke scratched his chin, mouth parted slightly.

He couldn't stop the inevitable nose wrinkle at the smoke. Did the raccoon mind it or was it just as addicted? Wisely, he chose not to ask. "I'm coming up on my third year and I can say genuinely it gets better."
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