He stares at his face in the mirror, so unchanged with the passage of time five centuries later. Marcelo has had to face his own immortality a number of times, when his family had aged, when numerous friends had aged in front of him. Sometimes it felt as if, though he would never admit it, that the immortality was seeming more and more as a curse with each passing day. A growl passes through his throat as he turns away from the mirror, but the he forgets, as he forces himself to do so many times and a wolfish smile tugs onto his face. It would seem it has been far too long since Marcelo has caused any sort of trouble around these parts of town, perhaps he ought to change that.

He continues to grin like an idiot as he dresses himself, knowing most likely he would just be taking the clothes off later anyway. No, get your head out of the gutter. He meant shifting of course. Earthen eyes close for a brief moment as a green hoodie slides over his head and his shoulder, chocolate eyes opening once more as he adjusts the fit before reaching over and pulling on a pair of dark khaki pants. A simple outfit, but Marcelo typically saved the flash for the big parties. He knew exactly how young he looked, and being too flashy at his age, especially around Sacrosanct could be a giveaway of his immortality for the sharper eyed dark hunters. The dirty blonde then kneels down as he slips into a pair of Adidas shoes. A glimmer of mischief becoming a light in those earthen eyes.

The chocolate eyed immortal had heard about the fights that took place at the ark, how could he, as a were, not? Marcelo had considered going and watching the fights, but as for participating? The jackal boy had never even considered the thought. Sure, money to be won was always good, but who needed money and fame when he had an endless list of vampires and dark hunters who owed the brown eyed boy favors, whether cash or otherwise. Besides, he wouldn't want to mess up that pretty face of his. Jackal weren't fighters unless threatened, and even then, Marcelo will run to save his own skin rather than stay and fight, even despite his immortality. The earthen eyed boy wouldn't considered himself a coward if asked, just smarter than the rest. Still, the thought of watching some other weres get down and dirty was certainly tempting.

He steps out of his hotel room, locking the door behind him, not even sparing a thought if he may be sober enough later to actually unlock it, although, if based on Marcelo's past luck of such things, there is a pretty good chance he may arrive back at 3am in the morning, fumbling with the lock like a drunken idiot. The wolfish grin on his face manages to reach those chocolate eyes as he struts from the hotel with hardly a backwards glance. Now, where ought a jackal boy to go? Marcelo peers around with earthen eyes, a soft breeze brushes against that brandished gold hair as he moves in the direction of the southern part of town. The last time he had visited that area it had just seemed far too peaceful, what a shame that Marcelo was going to make sure it didn't stay that way for long.

The boy with hair like brandished gold strolls down the street, the cool autumn air hardly bothering him due to the sweatshirt covering his body. He smiles at a passing pretty face, fox like, charming so very natural at it rolls on his face and she suppresses a giggle and smile. For all Marcelo's sickening faults, there is something inherently likable about the jackal. He is a monster pretending not to be, something to loathe and something so beautiful and perfect and practiced in his deception that it's nearly impossible not to love him. He is charming. He is wily. And a contemplative smile remains led to his face, brown eyes resting on the familiar area of the south side of Sacrosanct.

It is then that sensitive ears catch the sound of a little girl crying out. "No, Penelope, come back," she cries out. Nose catches the sweet smell of rabbit. Awww, it would seem a poor little girl had lost control of her hopping companion. What a shame. Dark eyes glitter with something akin to impish delight. He runs a hand through brandished gold hair once more as earthen eyes then catch sight of the poor creature running off. A predatory grin coats his face, perhaps the mocha eyed boy ought to help the girl catch her beloved little bunny. For Marcelo is nothing but kind hearted. Wellâ€"

And in only a moment it can be seen those chocolate hues turn into a feral amber, spine reshapes, bones snap and crack into place, muzzle elongates and where the boy once stood now stands a jackal, eager to start his hunt. He moves towards his target with a light jog, it would seem as if the rabbit had injured itself when perhaps it leaped out of its careless owner's arms. Well all the better for Marcelo now isn't it? Jackals are nothing if not clever opportunists.

Mouth parts slightly in anticipation before clenching once more, a low growl as his lips curl, canines exposed, pearly white. He stalks his prey and just when he is about to take the leap and jump on the little beast, when someone decides to jump right in the middle. All of that focus suddenly disappears as Marcelo lets loose a growls before the scent reaches his nostrils. Were. Canine. Coyote..... Female. How perfect. Amber eyes turn to meet her own and a chuckle falls from him before cool, smooth lyrics speak in the way only weres can. "Awww, now how am I going to wine and dine you, gorgeous?" The jackal snickers out before giving her a wink, his nose twitching slightly as he takes in her scent. He didn't recognize it, but there were others on her, she most likely belonged to a pack. "What brings you out here?"

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