November 02, 2002
.11.02.02. - taxi cab confessions [imogen]

[cont'd]

(james)
well.... leather and canvas and stuffing
but it's the same thing
and he has to hold a lot back
but that's where finesse and skill come in
especially when he's using the sticks

and he's quietly mulling over something in his mind for half of those blocks

"Imogen?"

another sidelong glance
raggedy man to the professional doctor
now that the streets are emptying of the local interest
and the SUV is just up that a way
he's feeling it out
tentative

"How much...... do you know about things that aren't us."

(imogen)
In general, most people rarely use her first name. Decker does. In her human world, it's doctor. Most of his pack, she suspects, doesn't know or care to know her given name. Dire used it, and it bothered her on some deep level. As if by the Garou knowing her name, she was losing a part of it all over again.

So as he speaks her name, her eyes flicker toward, silently, before contemplating the possibilities, her shoulders shrugging, "A little? I've overheard stories, but m-- the Fianna are always telling stories; it's impossible to tell what is true and what is folklore. I know a bit 'bout what ..." her hand moves in an eloquent gesture, encompassing that she does not know what word to use, "the wyrm... can throw at us. And that there might be other things beside." Another shrug, the SUV chirping as she disarms the alarm, the interior light flicking on as the locks click open. She starts to enter the driver's side, "Why?"

(james)
he was never told to refer to her as anything different
that's how they met, that's what he'll use until he's corrected
and maybe it's because he's often so low on the Garou totem pole itself, that he doesn't see her as some fineboned bitch fit for breeding and nothing more, he sees her as something of an equal, an intelligent being, that most likely knows more than he does
Franeknweilers be praised...
... he appreciates that, too.

"Well... it's about the other things besides...."

another worry of teeth over his lower lip
climbing into the passenger side
arranging the sling between his thighs
door solidly closing
reaching for the belt

"..... I think I saw one...... or more... of them last night."

dark eyes lift to hers
I just want to hear I'm not crazy before I tell the others about what I saw.
he's heard they existed
he knows the Rat Finks supposedly are in cahoots
but to see one?
up close?
far too personal?

if she knows him at all, she can see, deep down.... it scared him
the legends are real, Jamey-boy

(imogen)
She half stops, the key half slid into the ignition, and turns to face him as he speaks. He lifts eyes to her, and it's unnatural that she meets his with her own, looking at him for a long moment. Silent, but for a faint thud as long fingers of her left hand tap against the steering wheel.

Silence.
Silence. Silence.

She reaches finally, for the seatbelt, drawing it across her slender form, breaking the eye contact, "What did you see?" she asks, fitting the key the rest of the way into the ignition. For the most part, the unruly red hair has been pulled away at the base of her neck, but being it's usual disagreeable self, curls and corkscrews have obscured her face; these are brushed back from her face with an impatient hand, tucking them behind her ears. "I'm not the best person to tell this," she adds.

(james)
what's funny
some people just can't sit in silence
some people just can't allow another a perfectly clear view into their eyes which just so happen to reveal about everything
some people just can't bear it all, without remorse, or regret, to someone that could conceivably still be considered a "stranger"
some people..... eh?

he's not one of them
it's like earth and sky
indescribable blue
deep, dark sienna
makes you wonder just what everything is that's between them over the center console
he doesn't look away until she does

sighing a bit to harmonize with the click of the seatbelt
though it ends in a wry chuckle

"I know.... and I hope I'm not imposing by doing so."

hey, she's Decker's girl... not his
but just maybe.... maybe.... because of what she does in her job
she has a right to know what else is out there


"Does the name Graf Orlock ring a bell?"

(imo)
A shrug of her shoulders as he comments on imposing, "I'm just not sure what I can do t'help." she says simply, as the engine starts, reaching down to push the shift into gear.

Graf Orlock... A blink, a sideways glance at him, before turning away to check over her shoulder, and starting to pull out from the side of the road, flicking on the SUVs lights, the sun already set, though it's not even seven thirty. "... Count Dracula...?" after a moment of memory searching. "You saw a vampire?"

(james)
there's a.... small smile to that sideways glance
yes, he understands it sounds crazy
but of course, he's not supposed to exist either

chin dropping into a nod before those eyes cast themslves out the window
(out! out with ye! run away..... off with ye now!)
sighing slowly

"Well.... I saw a bone coffin, opened it up, and this guy straight out of Nosferatu was laying in there, looking like he was about to blow he was so surprised, with a huge wooden stake sticking out of his chest.... then Horatio..."

a pause

".... he's a spider. But Horatio crawled onto what was left of his chest and signaled for me to take the cookie tin type box his guy was holding onto. So I did. But that's beside the point..... what I should be focusing on here is that there was this guy that made Mr. Creepy look like an angel laying.... staked.... in a bone coffin.... somewhere in a deep, dark anteroom of the New Jersey sewer system. I've..... only heard rumors they existed.... but I don't know what else to call that."

there's a bit of a blink
he didn't mean to gush through the past three lights


(imo)
Vampires and werewolves and goblins oh my!

She's quiet as he speaks, driving through the lights and avoiding thoughtless jaywalkers. She pulls to a stop at a red light, her left hand tapping out a soft tattoo against the steering wheel. The radio plays softly, barely audible the music drifting at the edge of hearing. Her teeth scrape against her lower lip before speaking, turning her head to look at the Gnawer, "What was in the box?"

(james)
this time his head shakes
with a bit of a frown

"I don't know. I haven't opened it yet. I was going to bring it up to the pack when I could. They just haven't been around."

another glance
beautiful redhead
dreary Jersey City streets
and he can't seem to make up his mind whom to look at
Wimbleton has been more decisive

course, not like he's been all that available himself
but that's the sadness that haunts his eyes, not the confusion he's sharing with her

"All I know about it is Bastion warned me not to open it without him there - both he and Romani were very interested in it."

(imo)
"Shit, those guys give me the fuckin' creeps," she declares, uncharacteristically vocal opinion. Though, admittedly Bastian had showed up at her motel room. And followed her. She pauses for a moment, her fingers tapping against the steering wheel again, driving through the intersection as the light changes.

Beautiful, with pale skin, vibrant red hair. Pure breed that sings through her veins. She is perhaps the worst choice of any kinfolk to try and hide beneath the radar of the Garou Nation. Her eyes on the road, she speaks to him, raising one hand to raise a finger at each point she ticks off. "Two guys who appear to know about you," it's not us. "and your 'condition' insist on going for the ride." Point one. "Into the sewers, where someone's in a coffin." Point two. "Not only is he in a coffin, but he has a stake through his heart," point three. "And a spider tells you to take a tin box," Point three. "Which creepy guy number one tells you not to open unless he's there." Point four. Four fingers raised, "That's about it, right?" She glances sideways at him, stopping at a stop sign, and turning right.

Whether he answers or not, "I'll tell you what. Whether they're vampires or not, if they exist or not, I guarantee you, those blokes aren't human." She doesn't trust them, either, her tone says. A sudden crook of a half smile, a twitch of the mouth, ironic in mirth, "In my inexperienced opinion, anyway."

(james)
dreads tied back in the bandana drag against the seat in the slow nod
chin jerking in sharp acquiescence to each point

"Other than the part about Horatio being Bastion's "little friend" and crawling through an endless tunnel only small enough to fit through all shaggy which had me in a tight squeeze before I could get out of sight enough to shift then... then.... kneeling in a pool of Gaia knows what while I picked a lock in order to get through to the room the coffin guy was in, with Horatio the Spider Who Can Carry Away Small Pigs And Children sitting. on. my. head. Yes. That about sums my evening up. Certainly explains why I'm so clean today."

a hand runs over his jaw, cheek, brow, slipping to pull the gray bandana off
fabric patches of his sleeve rustling against the leather covering the shaped, impact-resistant door
fingers scratching through dreads that still smell like Rune's shampoo
he can't help the soft smile to the mirthful irony in her words

"That's about the conclusion I came to, Doctor, in my lack of experience what-so-ever."

the grin grows a bit
tentatively playful
perhaps even attempting a joke with the eye-peeling one

"I'm just glad to hear it from someone else....."

partially because he has no idea just how much trouble he's going to be in after this
from his pack
or from those other beings

(imo)
And lord almighty, she has a sense of humour. A smirk touches her lips, not quite a smile, because mostly she doesn't do that all that often. "All in all, this experience should teach you not to go wandering around in sewers with dead bodies in them. S'my job." The smile is little more than a twitch, but yes, it is there.

Another red light, and the SUV's brakes creak as she pulls it to a short stop to meet it and not break the law. A few heart beats of silence. "Do you trust Bastian and his dear friend?"

(james)
well, she better not smile too much, else her ice shell shall crack
but he sees it, just that little bit that's there
it gets that familiar grin back on his face again

"Duly noted, Madame Doctor, I think there will be no further instances of my crawling around in rusty sewage pipes with only a man-eating spider for a guide."

he said nothing about whether or not he'd go back with his pack
there is a body of a vampire down there, just laying, waiting
that is a wealth of knowledge.... potentially

but the brakes on that train of thought screech to a halt along with the brakes on the SUV
deep breath seemingly giving his mind the energy to weedle that little question out

"I don't trust Romani at all. That's why I planted evidence to make it look like he stole the box."

James? You flat out held a conversation with the spider and corpse.

"I......"

brows lifting at this sudden realization

"........ I don't know what to think about Bastian."

(imo)
She pauses, eyes down swept, watching a passerby walk near the car. Watch them walk away. After a moment, she finally speaks, eyes turning back to the red light before them.

"I don't trust either o'em. Something isn't right," she says without giving substance to her suspicions.

(james)
"What isn't?"

that's right, ladies and gentlemen
that would be a Garou valueing her opinion for the second time tonight
(though if she thanks him for anything all bets are off as he'll be too perplexed for anything)
deep earthen brown lifts to seek the dark horizon blue gaze


(imo)
She wouldn't thank him for it (she has a pride that tells her she should not thank someone for being treated as an equal... even if that pride is not enough to expect to be treated as one) so the somewhat bizarre out-of-character(?) conversation continues. It's something of a character trait that while she won't volunteer, if asked she answers honestly.

"He knows about you." Not us. "Obviously. And he, for some bizarre reason, wants to help." the light turns, and the car starts forward again, "But... If he was on your side, why would he play the games? Why be so secretive and ... give these requirements? I mean, fuck, this has to help him somehow. And you don't even know if it'll help you."

A slight shrug of her shoulders as she rounds a corner. "Doesn't make sense, is all. I know things aren't always obvious, but it should be more forward than that..."

(james)
there's..... it can only be a wry chuckle
a soft, sad, ironically painful poetic chuckle

"I know a part of why he's so willingly helping me is that he couldn't.... or wouldn't.... go where I did. That part of the relationship I can understand. It's an equal give and take, each doing a part of the means to justify the ends. But the question is what are those ends...."

how much of it are your packmates going to take out of your hide

".... I don't know if it will help me, which is why I need to talk to Decker and the others. If he is what I think he is, he has as much reason to hide it as I do."

not we, I.
fingers scratch through the far too glamourously for his taste scented dreadlocks
sighing
what am I gonna do?

"I dunno who I'm helping more by finding this out....... but I can't let this fall to the wayside. Not when it's destroying the little ones....."


(imo)
Little ones? A quirk of an eyebrow as she glances sideways at him a vague look of query. "... the rats?"

The SUV pulls up to the motel, with it's studio nearby. "Are the ends goin' to justify the means?"

(james)
there's a blink at the query

"Oh.... yea. Sorry."

a bit of a smile
suddenly real distracted, isn't he
and another breath to stimulate that deep thought
give her those real meaningful answers
or something like that

"It will be to me. It will be to my tribe. It will be to what I believe in. The others? I don't know. Which is why I have to be very careful how much I risk them."

a bit of a smile
and the Ahroun reaches for the door to let himself out onto the street

"Thanks for the ride, Imogen."

(imogen)
"See y'around." He leaves the SUV, and the SUV pulls away. She was already late on where she needed to be.

[cont'd]

Posted by james at November 02, 2002 12:00 AM