November 04, 2002
.11.04.02. - drunk as fuck [rune-dire]

[north jersey]

(james)
one boot goes infront of the other, James
he's been having some problems with that
a lot of problems
for about half the night
it didn't take him long after they reached the bars to reach his limit
and exceed it
several. times. over.

lucky that wall is there to hold his hand for this block

he's going to be screwed come the next intersection
he's surprised he hasn't tripped, or even tripped over, the sleek Ahroun walking next to him
he's got that easy, silly, warm and fuzzy smile plastered beneath the dreads
he's....... drunk

(rune)
There's the clatter of Rune's heels on the sidewalk - two-inch, not three-inch, or she might not be able to walk - and the strange pools of light spattered on the asphalt like paint. Nothing looks quite... right, anymore. Perspectives shift and dive and dovetail together.

James? Drunk off his ass. Rune? Pleasantly fucked up, no more. She drinks like a fish on ordinary days, so her tolerance is a little (alot) higher than his. Still, they hit the bars something hard - closing down two of them - and her reflexes are sufficiently skewed that she made the wise decision to leave her damn beloved Beemer behind - in a secure parking garage, thank god - rather than risk fiery death for the both of them.

One bus-ride later, and the endless walk back to the condo, she pauses as the brick runs out and James is flailing for air again. Smiles a wide half-smile and turns to settle an appraising glance on him. Dark eyes flicker in the phantom light, and shadows play across her sleek form. "...you gonna make it?"

The stoplight turns yellow. Red. "Time to dare the fuckin' street, James. Need a hand?"

(officer jamison)
<< She drives up the street...eyes peering out onto the dark streets of North Jersey. The sound of the police scanner inside the vehicle the only sound coming from the car. She drives and looks...heading towards the pool hall...Just another case? Not this time...not at all...
girl gone missing? She drives slowly up the street towards the pool hall. The seat next to her vacant, no partner, she didnt want one...that could be detrimental later...but she didnt care, she didnt want one...past too hard to forget>>


(james)
the wall runs out before he notices
weight suddenly thrown backwards in desperate reverse to grab the brick before it floats away
world.... stretching.... hoo boy
he'll just hold the wall down for a moment here
let it catch its breath

dark dark eyes slowly crawl from the sidewalk, up pleasently fucked up form to finally.....there they are..... find her eyes above red red mouth curved into a smile far more generous than the usual smirk
slurring words together like popcorn on a wiggly string

"I think I'd stand a much better chance if the condo didn't keep walking away as we were walking towards it."

it does seem like it's getting farther
muuuuuch farther
but even that amuses him greatly
he wants to shake his head to clear it
but he's convinced the dreads are about the only thing still tying it to his body
so a nod is ventured instead

"Yesplease."

pre-flight coordination seems a slow process
he hasn't moved yet

(rune)
"Yeah?" ...yeah. Dark hair swings around Rune's pale face as she rakes a hand through it, pivoting and turning back to him. Amusement laces her tone, which is low and thick with the two packs of cigarettes she smoked tonight. Clattering back to the reeling James in those fucking ridiculous heels, she continues, "...doesn't have the decency to walk the fuck toward us, does it? Not to worry. Not much farther."

Reaching him, she kicks off her heels (if she's going to have to manage balancing for the two of them, she has sense enough not to try it on the thin sharp points of those fashionable shoes) and bends to retrieve them. Straightening, she slips her left arm under his shoulder and around his back. Laughter - strangely slurred, oddly bright - spills from her mouth as she brushes his tumbling dreads out of her face. One step forward, another, balancing his weight with the strength of her lean arm, against the curve of her leather-clad hip. Murmuring, the sound slipsliding in the general direction of his ear, "...n'much farther a'tall."

(james)
"Ooooh yea."

flat out beamed
it's the amusement in her tone
it's that she sounds.... happy
and that infects him

she pulls tumbling dreads from her face
he reaches to pat the departing bricks
you fly safe now, y'hear? good wall.
right arm slinging itself across slenderstrong shoulders
smooth curve of leathered hip snug against flat planes of camoflaged tendon
he can smell the smokey bar and alcohol the bodies the night pressed close
he can smell, beneath it all, the smokey incense that clings to her skin

and no.... that is not a little shiver working its unconscious way up his spine in response to the murmur that slipslides in the general direction of his ear but seems to punch him right in the gut
honest

smile soft and warm (and silly)
reply a half-murmured slur of its own
thickly purred from the amount -he- smoked

"Thank you."


(dire)
*He keeps his eyes peeled for those little fuckers too. The one at the truckstop had gotten away. They were getting quicker. He walks to a covered buss stop and almost sits on the bench. sniffs and makes a clear yuck face and looks up. He hops. grabbing the edge of the roof and with powerful arms he swings up. Squatting there he looks like some huminoid gargole for a bit. Glowering down on the chattle around him. Damn monkeys stunk. He looks around for something or somone familiar*

(rune)
One foot in front of the other, down the depressed curve and daring the long wide street. Hers are bare, her impractical shoes dangling from her free hand, slapping (Italian leather on Italian leather: only the best for Rune) against her thigh as she walks, and walks James, forward: one foot in front of the other.

Daring the dark wide street as the light changed abruptly from red back to green again, they go, Rune murmuring encouragement the whole way. (Talkative, isn't she?) It's a good thing there are few cars out this later at night, or they'd be serve Garou pancakes back at the condo come morning.

"We're gonna make it," Half-way through the intersection, and she can feel the tension like compressed stings - the not-shiver; the punch in the gut - she can sense that, translated through the long muscles lining his spine as their bodies move in tandem across the intersection. The thread of awareness slipslides through her, too: bodies and smoke and the scent of her shampoo still clinging to his dreads. Low as her tone is, it's open, and uninfected by her usual rampant bitchy irony. They're drunk, it's late, the shields are at half-power. "...we're gonna be just fine."

(james)
low words
murmured encouragement
filtering slinky through dulled senses
an incense all their own
warm, smokey, floating coil that wraps and taunts and teases as it drifts around and around the fuzzy mind beneath the jungle vine hair, it's like the call of the ancients that filter on winds snaking through the ruined temple surrounded by the rainforest canopy, tempting forth the primal, removing the urban from the primitive, leaving only the deepest and darkest bared naked before the star's judgement above

this creature, having crawled from the primordial darkness of his mind only scant hours before
now held upright upon the glamorous shoulders of fasionable, raw strength

it's like he can reach for those stars
riding on the smoke-haze wings of dulcet tones
but instead he reaches for her
(only.... after... they've climbed the opposite curb)
muscle contracts to curve his arm
a careful process, uncoordination now would ruin all the pre-flight setup and send them to firey crash and burn
her weight shifted sideways.... close
the movement he should have completed earlier but she had to for him inside the condo
now reverses itself out here on the street behind the guise of whiskey and beer

how strange a reflection each is of the other

bridge of his nose resting against the top of her head
we're gonna be just fine
the time spans a step, a breath, a simple, wordless communication
yes we will
concentration returning to the steady progression of steps

(rune)
Dire is not of the city, he is merely in the city, but the pair before him - glasswalker, bonegnawer - are in their element, even stumblefooted as they are. The streets rise to meet them, and their feet slap softly on the familiar pavement, the shadows hold few terrors, and the streetlights form their own strange, changeable constellations against the night sky.

The nightwind is rising, slick with the scent of oil and exhaust fumes, chilly in the November night. It stirs James' dreads but barely, but sends Rune's inky strands spiraling flyaway across her cheek, across his. His ... words spill through the fogged swirl of her drink-and-drug addled consciousness, but the meaning is clear.

She believes him.

Her hand tightens on his right flank, just below the shoulder, and he can feel more than see the generous red smile spreading across generous red lips. There's a breath drawn, another, in tandem with this, in tandem with their stumbling pace onward down the sidewalk and a stretched though not unpleasant silence falls - interrupted only by the pull of breath, the rustling of paper drifting on the wind, the distant roar of an engine gunning past - to carry them home.

(dire)
*Crouching low he skitters slowly to the edge of the roof he's on.
Moving on all 4's is more than a little animalistic. SOme weird urban predator? No.. it's a normal predator in an urban setting. He's not "OF" the city. He's just "IN" the city. There is a differance.

Crouching down he peers over the edge of the buss stop.

His form Distorted by the nights lights in the city. His body seemingly mishappen with the backpack on and him arrayed like that.
Unconsciencly he almost shifts up to crinos but some niggling thought in the back of his mind keeps him from shattering the veil in that manner. .

He tilts his head and coils to spring. Watching them approach even closer he observes them with keen frosty blue eyes and trys his best to get a scent off them in this pitiful monkey form.
Raggad fingernails scrinch slowly as the musels beneight his skin quiver. The change to glabro almost impossiable to tame. Some how he does. Perhaps his intent observation saves him the added mass and mussel*


(james)
he doesn't notice being watched
he's doing damn well to stay on his own two feel even with Rune's help
they may be one with the concrete turf over which they stumble
but he would rather not stumble and trip to make the both of them one with the concrete

as with her tone
her smile infects him
red poison drawn across the lips of Eve
the warmth spreading, tugging at his lips
eyes of earthen umber lift to the night's navy skies

comfortable, in this silence
..... safe...

the half-tighten against his flank
the flex around her shoulders
the draw closer of the two strong frames
gravity's harsh mistressry calls to them in slight stumble into the drive of the condo's parking lot
should've watched where you were going, James

(dire)
*A lip peels back from sharp teeth. Hair ripples and still itches to be reliced to flow over his form.
He watches the city dogs and their movements.
They appear to be poisioned... or drunk. The smells of the city clogging his nose and confounding one of his most prevelent sences he gets aggitated. As they draw closer he crouches lower.
GAROU SHALL NOT MATE WITH GAROU!!!!
Echos hundreadsl.. thousands of times in his head. Who he is... what he is.. it all screams it.
He watches them and their pathetic pawing at each other. Teeth grinding a bit he slinks a touch back from the edge least his shadow on the side walk give him away, turning he slowly slinks to the side of the roof and peeks over as they walk almost directly below him at the bus stop.
Hunting instincts call for him to spring down on them.
To pounce.
Rend
Tear.
He holds it back and observes.
The long dark tattoo that looks almost like a solid bar up the back of his left arm. from back of the hand up to the shoulder where the war hammers head is concealed under his shirt tingles as it calls to be let loose and drink blood.
Still he watches the urrah*

(rune)
"Shouldn't've had that last one, James..." Laughter again, and the mirthful twist of her shoulders beneath his strong arm as they regain their footing and the lurching rhythm of their stumble home. They're drunk enough - the both of them - to be unaware of Dire's presence even with the malevolence bleeding out of him, even when their hackles should rise from the sheer force of it. "...shouldn't've had that last five."

Past the entrance, down the drive, circling around the planter with the nice wooden sign ("Rolling Meadows") bathed in floodlights that reflect back against their skin and send innumerable shadows skittering in every directions from their strong, fit forms. Past the nicely tended evergreen bushes and the splashy color of blooming mums and pansies planted for color until the first long hard frost comes along to the last of the hardy annuals, into the quiet streets of the condo community. Rune's bare feet curve over speedbumps, and even James manages to stumble over a few without bringing the pair crashing down. Past the first building, past the second and into the drive where a dilapidated once-blue pick-up truck sits silent in its place.

Onto the sidewalk. Home.

(dire)
*Slinking to the edge as they walk past he leaps.
Grabing ahold of the street sign he slides down and seems to hide behind it.
Scampering after them he stays low to the ground.
His movements predatory and fluid.
He hides behind the planter. with the nice wooden sign. Staying out of the flood lights though he sticks to the long shadow cast by it and scurrys over still scampering mostly on all 4s to the bushes.
Sniffs and blinks. Something pleasentin this scab.
Diving over the bushes he ccrouches on the grass ans slithers down to the curb and across to the second lawn.
Low crawling up to hide behind a tree there and watch them.*

(james)
"I shouldn've had any"

one hand sweeping out infront of them to part the air for safer passage
back!... ye scoundrel mums...
or perhaps emphasize soggy words
he almost spins to follow it
but the tightening of his arm keeps him nestled next to her

"I don't think I've ever drank that much."

though that familiar warm grin speaks that he doesn't mind it
not one bit
he might tomorrow morning when his head takes a vacation from his body because of the hangover
but right now?
he's just...... peachy

until faced with those stairs
even if the door is only four small stairs away
that's a mountain he must climb
just..... stairs!!

(rune)
"I have." Well, yes. And on a regular basis, too. Rune prefers this nice warm feeling to whatever cold reality holds for her, thank you very much, and the answering (natural) smile still coiled just so on her mouth speaks volumes right back. The warmth in her voice is almost... smug. James may be a lightweight, but she could probably drink Decker and Erik both under the table, through the floor and into the basement. Rune's a party girl, and it's clearly a point of pride. "...an' I had twice's'much's'you."

His dilemma bleeds through the shifting fog blanketing her conscious mind as they pause before the steps, and Rune releases James and stumbles forward, manages the first step even if she has to flail for the wall to do it. Straightening with strangely fluid elegance in spite of the alcohol burning hot through her blood, she tosses her shoes up to the landing and spins around.

"C'mon now," she encourages, offering James her hands, grabbing his with her own when he can't quite find them (three Runes, six hands - it's a difficult task to find the solid one, the warm flesh and blood one among the many phantoms dancing before his eyes). Fingers slipping down to lace long and strong and solid around his wrists, steadying and sure now that she has found her bearings. "Steps. One at a time. You can do it."
(dire)
*pausing as they struggle with the stairs he watches them trying to discern their ailment and the situation at hand*


(james)
eenie....meanie......that one!
the grin spreads as his hands are caught
(doitagain!)
rough palms slide over smooth wrists to reflect her grip
hands firm around her arms
the warm flesh and blood pulling him away from the phantoms dancing in his mind
trying to use her for leverage and balance and support
yet not pull her right back down the stairs and into him

"And you probably could have drank that much again before even considering joining the state that I'm in."

teased
the first three steps are fine
but the last one reaches up to grab him
throwing his weight into her
(maybe you shouldn't try to talk and walk at the same time)

(dire)
*His ears perk and as the gnawer staggers he almost launches himself off the lawn at them but holds it back*

(rune)
It's always the last step.

James catches his toe on the curved roll of concrete jutting out from the landing and spills over the last step and Rune - firmly anchored to him by gripped wrists and steadying hands - steps back and stumbles on her discarded heels (d'oh!), succumbing to the damnable siren song of the Gnawer's forward momentum and greater weight. She falls hard on. her. ass. and as her body connects with the concrete, it sends her other shoe (damnable, damnable things) spinning away and away. At least she managed to avoid cracking her head open on the front stoop.

" - oh - " the exclamation with the impact, breath knocked out of her in a long hot whoosh of air. And " - ...oh... - " again, born on the tattered remnants of the first breath she managed to suck back in, breathing in an upward arc against his weight pinning her to the concrete, dark eyes stilling, though the pupils are hungry-wide, wide as the generous smile even if she's not laughing, now.

"I think we made it," quiet and still, the spill of warm breath from red lips. She gestures backwards with one of his still-grasped hands. "...door's somewhere. back. there."

Somewhere.

(dire)
*there it is. something flying his way. He springs. flying shortly though the air to catch it in hsi teeth. OOPS. He looks around and crouches low and takes off ass for leather for the bvushes diving into them and spinging around to see if he's been seen before spitting what's in his teeth into his paws... Hands. Runes errant shoe*

(james)
gravity is a very harsh mistress
sorta
breath grunts out of him on impact
the end rolling into a soft growl
soft laughter

realizing how very close she is
he recognizes the hunger in the darkness of her eyes
he knows the reflection of it prowls within his own
the sudden stilling of inhale that draws her up agaisnt his weight
his own heart thumping against ribs
the grasp of their outstretched hands twists
rotating his palm against hers to lace fingers
drawing their hands back in, close

a movement on the lawn wants to drag his attention from her
but it can't break this invisable lock
must just be a stray cat or something
dreadlock curtain sheilds him (them) from the world
periphreal provides visage of the door in the shadows

"So it is..... means we didn't get.... too.... lost...."

murmured from a shy, boyish grin
wondering if his breath trembles even as it washes across her skin

(dire)
*He gnaws on the expensive italian leather as he watches them. Unsure if the gnawer is mounting the bitch on the steps or not. If so they will have a rude awakening as alot more GET than they are ready for attacks. He watches most intently now from the bushes*

(rune)
His weight, his breath warm ( - and, yeah, she feels it, the catch of awareness in the rhythm, the leaping pulse to mirror her own - ) warm as blood on her pale skin chafed cold by the long walk home, and the teasing dance of dreadlocks spilling down across her cheek. Her own hair is spread out like an inky fan on the cold gray concrete, soaking in the ambient light and reflecting it back as a hue of red three shades darker than the painted mouth stilling somehow beneath the amused grin.

His fingers twist and lace with hers, and his hands draw hers back to their side. She squeezes back, communicating - what? awareness perhaps, of the meaning of the sudden stillness, of the absence of the world.

"...no. Not too lost." It's not the cigarettes, this time, that drag her voice to a lower register. It's not the alcohol that burns through her blood. And it's not the need to speak or breathe that parts her red red lips as her head drifts up from cold concrete and her mouth finds his. Not at all.

(james)
in just the last two days, how many times has she found him
how many times has her reach pulled him from a darkness neither would admit
a gentle touch
a curving smirk
slide of leather against his thigh
tonight, once more, the soft curve of her lips find his

and then he's lost once more
in her mouth
in her scents
in her touch
in her taste beyond the whiskey and cigarettes
weight drops
lean body folds against lush curves

then tightens from the explosion overhead

dreads whipping around
dark snarl rumbling in his chest
dark eyes blaze volcanic
visably bristling

"Decker's not home and you're disrespecting my territory......get lost."

taking into account the amount of alcohol he's had
the angry Get's defensive stance
that he is recoiling into a crouch not only to brawl but to let Rune get in on the goods
and that now was a seriously bad time for visitors to come calling
this isn't going to go well

(dire)
* his snarl deep as he seems to grow a few inches, slipping up to glabro*
Territory means DICK where the litiny is about to be broken Gnawer. * He stare the drunken man down. the crowbar held by the bottom, about two and a half feet long, blue iron with the hook end out to do business.*

YOU STRAY TOO CLOSE!

* his nature and demenor bleedinging though. He watches them and his voice drops to sickening low level* Garou shall not mate with garou.... EVER... _I_ am Metis... I know what happens... things that make your lowered breeding pale in comparision.

I am a scald... unless you want every caern from here to the western shore knowing of your actions you will think twice.
(rune)
The world is absent - nothing more than a fog of light and darkness - her senses consumed in and by him: the weight of body lean body, the thumping beat of his heart, the double helix spiral of her mouth against his, his mouth upon hers.

And then: explosion. The porchlight shatters and sings shards of glass and smoking filament over the steps, falling to sizzle in the grass wet from forming dew. James rises fast and snarls at the intruding Get, and Rune has found her feet a moment later, crouched like a panther or a spitting snake - lean back leather, cool white silk, hot breath steaming through flaring nostrils.

The line between want and wanton violence in thin and narrow, as thin as the border between their civilized bodies and their wild souls, but Rune manages to construct a word from the savage swirl of raw. fucking. urge. steamrolling her slick urban veneer. Pale face twisting, red lips drawing back to show dull human teeth as she spits that short sharp sound like a bullet toward the Get.

".go."

(dire)
*He Snorts at them both. A drunken gnawer and drunken bitch walker didn't scare him. He stares them both down*
DO you CONCIDER THE LAWS you almost break?

Here

*He gestures hitting the crowbar aginst the wall for empithis*

YOU stumbel drunked and slurred home. Unaware that your being followed. A disgrace for the worst of tribes. THen you fall apon each other and almost RUT in the open like swine!?

Think of what you do. Are you ready to feel the scorn of the entire garou nation? Are you redy for that disgrace to be levied on you?

Have you thought about it!?? HAFVE YOU CONCIDERED THE CONSIQUENCES OF YOUR ACTIONS!!???

It's the FIRST TENNIT THAT WE LIVE BY!

(james)
muscular cords through his arms tighten
hands balling into fists

"I count your two to my one, Get"

a brow lifts

"Do you want them all to know your disregard for the majority just to point fingers at a lowly mutt? Get out of my territory. Now."


(dire)
I don't care if you were 1000 YOU STILL BORDER BREAKING THE LITINY! You still brook DEATH! * he snarls at them.* Look at you both. Barly able to stand. I'd be surprised if you could see straight right now.

* his voice droping and disguisted* You should both be ashamed.

Look at each other. Your garou.. GAROU... You know better than this.

You should know better.

Art the metis you've seen in your life glaring proof that this isn't a rule to be broken?

DO you think of the results of your actions?

Think. * his voice almost a whisper*

Look at each other and think.

(rune)
Rising on bare feet planted wide on cold concrete, hands griping soft leather (hard) with the effort not to charge forward and rip and rend and tear, the Glasswalker snorts and shakes head. Inky hair flares with the movement, catches the light, gleams dull black red: blood spilled on asphalt, blood spilled into the uncaring ground.

She's spilled blood in her time. She can do it again.

"You heard him. This is not your place. This is not your land. This is not your territory, Cliath." Rising now, straightening until she stands her full height, looming 5'10" and four long steps above Skald, confident in her high ground. "You've said your piece. Your shame is not ours.

"Go."

(james)
"I border on breaking the rules, drunk. You have already broken two, sober. Would you like to make it three? Do you need me to list them out for you?"

slurred, indeed
but seething mad
amazing how much Rage
which normally blurs everything
can clear one's mind

"Is that even registering, or are you taking your anger at being mistreated out on a man, which, by common knowledge among the Tribes, treats what you are as an equal and not some scorned creature that should have been rolled in ashes upon its birth - which is the very reason you think he and his people are so low. Why don't you take a good look at the results of your actions before you walk in and start destroying someone's home."

i will not back down
not. from. you.
even if he still crouches beside Rune's bare feet

and boy is the alcohol helping with this sudden lack of inhibition
his voice just as low

"Maybe it is you who should be ashamed. A final time. Leave before you disgrace yourself further."

(dire)
*He twirls the crowbar* THE LITINY DOESN"T CARE ABOUT YOUR FUCKING HOUSE! * he points the crowbar at her* I saw what you were doing. I"ve followed you both. I see whwere this was headed! * he's not backing down* I haven't broken the liteny by STOPPING YOU FROM BREAKING IT! * He trembels in his anger and they are close to seeing how well a sober get can prove their tribal legacy aginst two garou that can't even climb stairs with out falling down. If they are so drunk then they are just as drunk now. They arn't fianna to be able to toss aside their intoxication on a whim with the use of gifts.

He eyes them* Your "Territory" Is a house that you were about to break the litiny infront of for all to see.

YOu should thank GAIA that I"m here to stop that. You think TEWRRITORY will save your asses when your carrying a pup? Are you that insane? You won't be allowed to stay here when you have to assume the war form to just survive the pregnancy. All your money. Your pretty car. All of that will be left behind. Months in the wilderness outside your city. Till the birth comes...


Oh yes.. have you thought of THAT?

Not all mothers survive the birth. Then you have a metis child... Your stuck with it for life if you don't take the cowards way and kill it. Both of you. * he gestures with the crow bar* BOTH OF YOU shakeled for life with that dishonor.

I break no laws. I simply stop you from disgracing yourself. The eldest here has welcomed me into HIS territory. Thusly I am able to go where I please. * He snorts at RUne* Don't act like your above me so far Ahroun. You mearly beat me by one rank and I can and will challenge your ass if you push it and we'll see just how easily glass breaks.

I respest gaia.. I love her.. I love the garou and it's that love that makes me intrrupt your drunken escipades. Do you think the get among you wouldn't tear you in half for bringin that dishonor intohis pack? Do you WANT me to tell Decker of your little show here?

* he looks at them hoping they don't fall down the stairs*

Or do you want to come to your sences. PART

* he gestuires to the lawn and back to them. Take the night to sober up and know what your about to do? * He stands straight and shrinks back to homid. Still over 6 foot. Not a small gut, wiry in his strength*

Part this night and when you can think straight again be glad that somone was around to save your honor and prevent this sin?

(rune)
"I'm perfectly aware of all the consequences mating with Garou, Get," the Ahroun replies, scorn upon heaping scorn served in a white-hot bed of seething Rage. There's no pure breed to shine from her, and there are no ancestors upon which she may call upon at this moment, but there's still something .savage. in the Ahroun's sleek and powerful form. "...and if you think I would dare those, you are a fool indeed.

"You saw one. kiss, and nothing more. You have reminded us of our duty, and fulfilled yours in doing so." Her words are sharp and hard, and her voice lashes out like a whip, taut with the effort of holding back the anger coiled within her gut like a compressed spring. "If my stomach starts to swell and I come crawling to your cabin in the woods begging sanctuary, you can crow your righteousness from the rooftops for all to see. Until then, you may step no further. This is my pack's territory, and you are not welcome."

With that, Rune spins away, hair flying in a wide black arc as she bends to scoop her (one) shoe from the stoop and flings open the door to the condominium. Pausing on the threshold, she turns and regards the Get with burning dark eyes, "...and lest you think to further violate my territory in the name of upholding the litany, my packmates - who are welcome and reside here - will be chaperones enough."

(james)
low
deadly

"One. Respect the Territory of Another. Two. Respect for those beneath you. Three. The Veil shall not be lifted."

he's not sure whether it's the alcohol or Dire's glib tongue
but he's fairly sure he's hearing words that all Rune's neighbors other than Imogen should not be hearing screamed by some hairy crowbar weilding guy going ape-shit on their front lawn at 2 in the morning
he also wonders just how much the Get is listening, or how much dirt is clotting his ears
didn't he just say Gnawers treat metis as equals?
doesn't sound much like shackling or disgrace to him....
but the Ahroun is seething

"Last time I checked there was more than one Law to consider. This territory is ours not the Elder's. He has no sway here, but he has a very sympathetic ear to us, and to our Alpha. You might also want to consider that I can't get her pregnant. So perhaps there isn't much of a question of our sinning as YOU!! ARE BEING!! AN ASSHOLE!!"

though soon as Rune's at the door
he's there too
if swaying a little still
this mule moon-calf has wasted enough of his time

(dire)
*He smirks watching her* I see how they chaperone WALKER * he thorws her tribe name back at her like the insult it is* You take care and remember what you risk. I've no qurrell with either of you. * his voice softens* BUt it's not a minor thing you play with.

*He looks at the Gnawer* Your a fool if you think the high kings own court would slow me one hair from speaking out aginst unrighiousness.
Two I DO respect you, hince my warning you pair to cese and thing rather than just killing the both of you unaware. I've stalked you since the buss stop. You think that while in passionate embrace I couldn't have stolen up on you quietly and dispatched the both of you? You couldn't even make it up the stiars GNawer. How effective would you have been to an attack from behind? * he shakes his head and looks around the alcove they are in* The veil is not lifted. I broke the light for a reason and this concrete * he wacks it with the crow bar again getting a dull clang* Soaks up our voices. I knew full well what I was doing when I came to seperate the pair of you from your wrongness.

The pregnancy isn't the point of law... * his voice quiet again* You shall hide behind no tecnicality like some sappy little Coggie.

* he nods at the last* Better me an asshole NOW you two.. than your entire lives forfit for one nights drunken pleasure. * He slips Babe, the big blue crow bar back into his back pack* Go in peace and just think... THINK... * he nods to them*

(insert discussion about the exact layout of rune's condo here..... settle on open front, his words were emphasized, not yelled, so on, so forth)

[cont'd]

Posted by james at November 04, 2002 12:00 AM