We're living in dangerous times.

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Ethiopia was a hell in and of itself. People could say whatever they wanted about Africa being the more stable of the deeper affected countries, but if Simon could help it he wasn't going back any time soon. Not for as long as that bloody necromancer still lived and breathed. He hadn't asked for the extra soul sharing his existence, and the wolf hadn't asked for it either. Sure they were both living, and they had grown accustomed to one another. He had even grown fond of the wolf sharing a space in his head. But being a spiritshifter was no picnic. It took a while for most shifters to get in tune with their other half enough to not rip each other apart. People who saw him shift always assumed he was a mooner. One of the more violent weres. And here he had thought his fox-like appearance would have kept people from being intimidated.

Still. Extradition was no joke, and the powers that lord themselves over others were determined to send him packing and out of their hair. He stuck his nose into a few too many gaping holes in the joke of a political situation the United World Order of Screw Everyone Over. had created. The equality laws were great in theory but they were intrinsically designed to only give those rights to the supernaturals who could blend in or pay their dues. For the less fortunate they created loopholes. Confinement to country of origin disguised as 'right to inhabit their home region', Right to bear arms loopholed with the excusable right to kill any supernatural and only be charged with self defense in a court of law of non supernatural peers.

'Equality' was just a fancy word they used to placate the masses and everyone knew it. Every law had a book of footnote exceptions that went ahead and invalidated it. And Simon, dumbass that he was, was trying to expose the truth to the less crass masses. The people who had friends and families affected by the laws that had been lied, placated and blinded into submission with fancy words and biased media.

Simon Says Enough is Enough.

But the government said silence or death to nosy supernatural-supporting journalists. So for once he couldn't complain about the wolf sharing a space in his head. Especially considering he was unregistered. That didn't mean he was about to thank that asshole necromancer for bringing him back from the dead + 1 mental passenger, but it did mean he was all too willing to listen to Providence when the suggestion of slipping through the bars and scooting on out like their tails were on fire would be a good idea. Before Ethiopia or death became his reward for attempting to expose the truth.

And where was the first place a wolf on the run ran to? Parker Motel. A veritable underground railroad of Supernaturals disguised as a flea-bag two-bit motel. Alright so the disguise wasn't so much a disguise as the truth but it was a frequent meeting ground for the hunted and endangered. He only had to hope his shadow had been paying attention to the radio silence from his noisy friend. Dressed back in his old cop uniform, he slipped through the 'breakfast' lounge and headed straight for the re-purposed payphone to try and get a quick graph out to Ian. But if his best friend knew him as well as Simon often bragged Ian did, he was already lurking here in the shadows. Or sitting right out in the open being a casual asshole and reading the daily 'newspaper'. If anyone could call that stack of lies news. Maybe the world hadn't changed that much after all.

Call Simon old fashioned but he believed in two very out-dated things.

Cops were supposed to protect and serve, not pursue and sentence.

And journalists were supposed to dig up the truth and show the world, not pull the wool further over their eyes.