December 02, 2003.12.01.03. - whirlwind [everyone][riverfront - james, tristan, imogen, roxanne, lars, decker, lexi, mark, gwyneth, leroy, nelly, madoc and surely someone else I've forgotten.... hopefully this scene will get broken down into something resembling sane parts..... omfg.]
(tristan)
He knows he’s going to catch a lot of ribbing. May as well get it over with, hm? He had walked Roxanne back to her car after the tour of the warehouses he knew of that were for rent, promised again to speak to James, and then tucked her into Pricilla and watched her drive away. Been a long damn time since he clicked with someone like that – hell, in all honesty, it’s been since he met James.A thought that brings a slight groan.
He’s gonna be teased mercilessly for this, he just knows it. He can’t help the boyish grin though, fingers brushing back his tumbledown curls as he makes his way back to the warehouse. Long strides eat the cement between where they’d left the car and the warehouse, the broken windows appearing first, then the building that now houses Eagle’s Chosen and a couple of kin coming into full view. He didn’t even play today, but has enough to pause and duck into the minimart, grabbing some coffee (so he had a late night last night, what of it?) and warming his hands around it as he finally closes the distance to the warehouse door, grasping the handle to see if it’s unlocked.
(james)
the door is locked
though it's probably easier just to walk in the big bay doors that have been rolled quarter-way open
just because his little trick keeps the warehouse toastily warm - doesn't mean it provides ventilation
and sometimes the place gets downright stale
especially with the amount of cigarette smoke that doesn't creep out the occassionally broken windows
much less any other fumes from the cars and generatorthe Ahroun is sitting just to the side of the island of domesticity
firmly planted on a crateturnedchair
dreads pulled back into a ponytail tied with a shoelace
camel's hanging from between his lips and dark eyes squint slightly in the smoke
the water heater's been drug out of the bathroom
something simply wasn't working right and Bone Gnawer ingenuity has pilfered a new partinstalling the new part is the task of the moment
suffice to say - he's squinting because of the smoke and partial perplexion
handyman James is not
though the Time Life book of Bob Vila's home plumbing spread open on another crate is doing its best to convince otherwisemusic stirs the clearing air of the vast cavern of their mostly empty home
among his gatherings of the day, seems he picked up another new toy
it's old and battered and doesn't play CDs, and the tapedeck is questionable
but he found a stereo that came complete with speakers that didn't even crackle
and there's a tune by Tom Petty rolling on the radio waves(tristan)
Ah, yes. Open door, how could he have missed it? He chuckled at the sound of tom petty coming from within – at last, music! – and he ducks to grab the bottom edge of the door and heave it open a bit more. He ducks through, and then replaces it to it’s previous location, before looking around and searching out the firmly planted Ahroun studying in such concentration.His entrance couldn’t be hidden even if he were trying too – must remember to get some decent lubrication for the doors to stop the infernal racket – and the echo is just dying down off the walls of the mostly empty space. A moment, and he figures what the hell, he’ll just brazen it out. “Hi honey! I’m home!”
Long strides cross the room toward the island of domesticity, and after another sip of the coffee in still teaming cup he drapes it over James’ shoulder. “If I knew you were here, I’da brought another. But I’ll share if you want a sip or four....”
(james)
the rolling hinges squeal in ear-piercing protest
and oddly, with the amount of lube that's around for the cars
(the CARS you filthy-minded bastards!)
nobody has applied any to the great bay doors that provide easiest entrance.... must be a reason for that
but nevertheless, the kinsman's entrance cannot be missed
so momentarily, a smirking smile begins to creep along over the fullmoon's features
it's hidden, as he turns away to consult the book of knowledge once again
stretch and twist of torso pulling the faded and greyed wifebeater tight across his flesh
deeply ashed scars striping an exotic print over the length of his back from pelvis to neck
the very tips creeping out in sentient path onto the sculpted muscle of strong shoulders
as if reaching for the strange gathering of what must be ink signifying dedicated weaponry on right bicepwrench clanks uncerimoniously into the toolbox gaped open by his left boot
reaching to pluck the steamy cup from Tristan's hand"Oh, well, I lef' quiet this mor'in...." chuckle hidden in a loooooong sip ".....figure give you two s'me priv'cy."
(tristan)
Of course there’s a reason for it – probably easier to get himself a key, anyway. But James shifts position and stretches, pulling that wifebeater tight against flesh and the kin would be lying to say that he didn’t watch the flex and relaxation of muscles that move in smooth animalistic grace under skin painted with scars.The wrench clanks, and startles him from that train of though as the cup is plucked from his hand, and that chuckle is not missed even through the looooooooong sip, and the pretty boy at least has the grace to flush. Even as he’s growling in mock irritation that ends in a groan. “I knew you were gonna give me shit about that.....” and yeah, he’s laughing too. “Go on – get it out of your system before I burst your bubble and tell you it was completely innocent.....”
Mostly. Completely!
(james)
"Nothin' 'bout yeh, boy, s'inn'cent."the fabric pulls tighter across long muscle in his back when the stretch exemplifies itself
this time allowing him to turn around and cast a look pointedly over his shoulder
handing back the cup of coffee with an easy - if teasing - grin
odd, this good mood possessing the Garou, isn't it(tristan)
He laughs then and nods. “Got a point, there... even Roxanne said so when gaping at my morning wake up call.” Smirked, slow and smug as he plucks the coffee away from his friend and takes advantage of said good mood - leaning in close to whisper a silken tease across his ear... “but I was dreamin’ about someone else, all pillowed up in those dreds...”He pulls back and wiggles his brows, chuckling as he sets the coffee cup aside to peel out of the top two layers of clothing – mighty toasty in here. Handy little trick. Yeah. Down to the tank top he takes up his coffee again and drags up a seat, fingers sliding through those mismanaged curls again. “Lars asked me to check her out.” Pause. Wince at how that sounds in light of the situation and just cracks up. “oh man. Everything I say is just gonna like make this worse, isn’t it?”
(james)
.... that was Tom Petty's "I won't back down." brought to you by Chicago's own WLUP, 97.9, the best of forty minutes commercial free classic rock, up next is Dire Straights....the Ahroun does his best to ignore the tease
but for some reason, today: it gets to him
a chill racing up scar-shadowed spine
the smirk deepening to a dangerous (if lopsided) sneer
a low growl playfully chasing the teeth that snap after the silken-soft wordsbut then - James laughs
and it's not the soft sound that's eeked out lately
it's a full throated, hearty, one-hundred percent laugh
(how rare has that been in the past months....)
weight pivoting around elbow resting on BDU covered knee
brow lifting to look the stripping kin up and down"Gettin' little warm'n here f'r ya, issit?"
(tristan)
he.....growls.....and it would be a bald faced lie if the kin said it didn’t make his knees go weak. For all his teasing, he knows, they know that should the move ever be made he’d be there in a heartbeat. And then the laugh that follows? Full-throated and free.... that brings a wondering grin to the kins lips, lingering soft and fond as he arches a brow, questioningly... “you’re in quite the mood today – can’t be just because you caught me in an unexpectedly compromising position.....”But he flushes and nods, blunt nails scritching along his jaw before grasping the collar of his tank and fluffing it a bit. “Why, yes... yes it is... why do you think that is?” Grinned wickedly, before he takes a loooooooong sip of coffee, and offers the cup back toward his friend. “Tell you what, if I ever decided to taste forbidden fruit? Rox’s just the kinda gal I’d have to try it with. Playful. Fun. Easy going. Sexy too, if you like the curvier type.” Which. You know. He doesn’t.
Honest.
Oh stop laughing, will you? It was innocent! “Gives one hell of a backrub too.” Yeah – lets just keep digging that hole, hm?
(james)
"She pro'lly break yeh."tossed back over his shoulder
attention mostly turned back towards the water heater at hand
it seems though, that now there are extra parts
that weren't there the last time he looked at everythingthe HELL did you get yourself into, Jamey boy?
the mysterious part sets heavy in broad and calloused hands
and for a moment - the fullmoon is quiet
still that fond grin ambling across his features
a part of it's holding an offhand comment at bay
the rest is pure nostalgia"Gotta pos'card t'day...."
(roxanne whitaker)
The adventures of the Pretty Boy Kin and the Peroxide Fox had ended earlier, leaving Roxanne with a bemused smile on her face. During the time lapse of her absence, she set about the daunting task of errand runs and phone tag with different auto parts stores around the city to find the best bargains for replacement parts and materials to fix up Decker's Tacoma. This task became her new priority, shrugging off the duties of unpacking boxes and fixing up her small studio flat. Once, Roxanne had felt she had hunted down the lowest prices for good quality material; she placed the orders for windows and putty, to seal up the bullet holes. She then made a few more calls to her chop shop friend, Jack, to find her an out of the way garage to work in. All she needed now was a warehouse and she would have her own workshop set up. Nevertheless, that could be put off until later in the week. Right now, she had a request to fulfill and get Tristan back into Decker's good graces.It would not be too long before the familiar rumbling purr of the V8 engine hummed sweetly in the night. The sound of the heavy engine's roar announcing Priscilla's presence upon the Eagle's doorstep, more like pulling up to half open bay doors. Who or more appropriate what was Priscilla. A near mint condition, classic 1969 Chevy Nova Camaro SS, classic American-made automobile; flawless burgundy-plum paint job with polished chrome finish, the interior just as detailed as the exterior, playing homage to the latest in high tech stereo equipment. (Can we say someone had money to burn...?)
The Nova is thrown into park, driver's door opens up as the artiste responsible for this Car hobbyist' wet dream slips out of it. Black leather molded over a lithe, light muscled frame. Pants, boot-cut, flares over biker, topped by a vintage Rolling Stones t-shirt and the leather racing jacket, faded and well-worn, embroidered with a network of patches up the sleeves, many depicted names related to cars. A row of jumbo safety pins runs in a line down the outer side of the right sleeve. Long, thinly twisted cords of platinum blond (peroxide) pseudo-like dreadlocks were gathered back away from her face, a few strands left to frame the hard lines of her features. Cobalt-blue eyes, a stark contrast to the hair, scope out the bay doors. Roxanne retrieves a 12-pk bottle of beer and a large bag of greasy fast food from the back seat before shutting the door and walking to the door. “Tristan!?” calling out in loud, yet husky voice.
(gretchen heidreich)
Despite the chill in the air, and it being downright cold, Greta walks with slow undirected strides along the Riverfront. With darkness hugging her tall, slim form her blonde hair quite nearly seems to glow. With fair skin set against a dark scarf and equally dark wool coat, she is a strong palette of contrasts. Watching the toes of her worn boots, with a glances spared now and then for the path ahead of her, Greta slowly digs in her coat pockets for cigarettes and a lighter.(tristan)
He chuckles and nods. “Most likely. But what a way to go. She wants to meet ya too – see where the boundaries are and shit. She’s a mechanic that does the whole gambit – legal, illegal, boosters – you name it, she does it....” to cars. Really. “which will lead me to my next request...”He trails off and watches that dreamy look – ooooooohboy, he recognizes that look, and he moves closer, sinking to crouch by the water heater and grabs the book of how too by bob villa and holds it a moment before looking up at James and just grinning, broadly... “oh really...” Even as he reaches to rest his hand on James’ shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’m happy for ya, man... real happy.” Because a look like that can only mean she’s doing well...
His gaze drops to the book now in hand though, and he contemplates the parts around the ahroun “Uh, where’d them extra parts come from?” Chuckled as he starts to read a bit – between the two of them they should be able to figure it out... –should-...
And then that pretty blond in question calls and he grins, while hissing “be. Have.” Knowing damn well he wouldn’t behave in reverse situation and hopes that James doesn’t hold back either. He’s in a good mood, they both are, and it’s all in affectionate fun. “If it ain’t Foxy Roxy.... hope you’re ears weren’t burning – come on in!” Called back toward the open door.
(lexi)
The blonde has been out of sight for a few days. [out of sight - out of mind] She certainly hasnt been bored, thats for sure...She had been quite busy, but now she heads for the wherehouse. Camo jacket over flannel shirt. Jeans and hiking boots. Blonde hair up in a pony tail. Those [feral] grey eyes taking in the night as she walks. Eriks burlap backpack hiked over one shoulder, the broken - now fixed- strap hanging lose...Always had the necessities in there. It was like Mary Poppins purse..you never knew what she would pull out of there.
She heads for the wherehouse. The whole concept still amused her, Eagle staying out there as opposed to the luxury of Runes condo...once luxury, now sitting on *chair-type things* instead of the plush couches. What day was it anyways...Sunday - Monday?
Erik had her doing all sorts of shit, but finally a break and she finds herself heading to the wherehouse...
Each breath she can see in front of her..damn it was cold..better then Jersey but still cold as fuck...the wind felt like razor blades on her face...
Couldnt they have picked someplace warmer to go...like Florida?(lars)
*The german man walks down the street once again. His long brown hair whipping about his head from the wind. Only the bangs are pulled back tight, and held in place with a leather strap.He walks with the large scar across his face without fear. The rising face of luna causes him to clamp down on his rage with a tight fist. The intensity of it glows in the glare that is his look. And the glare looks at every person he passes, why? because the effect of the moon makes him feel every possible attack in this scab.*
*And yet again, the path his feet walked slowly took him toward the warehouse of the Eagle's chosen.*(roxy)
Her husky laughter becomes her first reply to Tristan's words, as she ducks down, halfway to peer under the bay door."Yannow, I was beginnin' to wonder if someone was talkin' about me." she calls back finally, body bends to duck inside, straightening up, before walking over to them. "Got beer and food if yer is hungry."
She holds up the bags and 12pk case in her hands to show them, walking the length of pace across the warehouse over to James and Tristan. It was easy to see what Tristan was talking about. She had looks that weren't hard on the eyes at all, looks defeminized slightly, by the leather. But, then again who didn't like a tough chick in leather. The water heater lying in parts on the ground near them drew her eyes. She didn't comment, just looks over at James with a nod of her head. "Hey."
(james)
"Y'know....." brows raise in slow concert towards his hairline, deep umber eyes perusing the parts scattered about his boots like hungry puppies "..... I've.... notta clue."the all but forgotten Camel long is plucked from a side-bar ashtray
allright, not exactly an ashtray
it was more a coffeecan that bore the brunt of one of the full-moon's tempers
the top half ripped off and divits created in the leftover mess
but it serves it's purpose if it isn't pretty
of course - none of their own do-it-yourself furniture is prettythe song switches over to something by David Bowie and Queen
and dirty fingernails scratch through the tangled dreads tamed into a ponytail hanging past his shoulderblades
muscle in his arm pulling wayward paths to crisscross sturdy bone beneath
though past the confusion - handyman James is not - there's still that fond glow
it's all that's needed to tell Tristan that indeed, his mate is doing okay"B'fore yeh commence breakin' Trist'n, 'gain..... hey." a quick glance and nod up to the peroxide blond "Yeh knowledge a ca's filter inna water heaters?"
it's easy to see what Tristan was talking about regarding the Ahroun, too
the grin is easy - if lopsided - fair welcome to their little situation
and it's not pretentioned with a Fenrir-esque test, either
the way his dreads are tied back explains the slur that slows down clipped New York accent
his jaw doesn't move correctly when he speaks - it barely moves at all
somewhere, sometime, the entire left side of his face was shattered
it all healed correctly except the hinge of his jaw(lars)
*As the forseti approaches his eyes narrows as he takes in the strange car to him. Curiousity, had his gait move a bit faster, and soon he was past the car, and at the door of the warehouse. A couple sniffs to take in scents... before he is at the doorway and knocking even as he's looking inside.*(tristan)
He laughs as he looks at the parts, then meets that gaze with a warm smile. A wink, and then he’s turning to watch Roxy walk this way, moaning with delight. “She brings beer and food – if she’d just become a tripod I’d fall in love...” He chuckles and reaches up to liberate the bag of fast food from her when she comes near, winking up at her. “You know me. Insatiable appetite.”As handymen go, Tristan is only marginally better then James, and well, that doesn’t exactly extend to waterheaters. Which explains the perplexed look at the book.. “And she didn’t break me dammit...” muttered, good-naturedly. He looks up, grabbing a burger and unwrapping it, handing the bag to James, as he finally, belatedly, does the intros. “James, my BG brothah and general full-moon pain in the ass, this here’s Roxanne Whitaker, GeDub kin. She knows Mark, of th’Knights from back in the day.”
(roxy)
Roxanne had been waiting for one of them to ask, if she could fix the water heater. The bag of food, gleefully taken from her hand by Tristan. She sets the still chilly case of beer down on the ground by them, stepping away to walk over to the metal heap on the ground. One glance up to James with a broad, cheeky grin. "I'm not gonna break, Tristan, not yet anyway."Brows wiggle at them in mischief, as she turns to crouch down by the water heater, reaching out for the home improvement book.
"Tristan, I would give you the world, sweety, but one thing I won't do is a sex change. You'll have to endure my lack of proper equipment, baby." she calls over to him, crinkling her nose. Her eyes skim over the few pages of the manual, as introductions were made. "I can fix damn near anything, except my celibacy. The water heater won't be a problem, lemme just gleam over the book first." she says to James' earlier inquiry.
(james)
"Whut.... all tha' baby oil save yer ass?"James. Just. SMILES.
snatching the proffered bag of food before it's thrown at his head
mysterious part to the heater placed on the ground with it's brethren
don't have to ask him twice to give up fixing things for food"Thank'." the burger held up with another glance at Roxy, then attention strafes to the side "C'mon in, Lar'."
(lars)
*Lars caught the end of the conversation...enough to have him pause at the doorway and not complete the original idea that he was going to say hi.Blinking once, he ducks under and enters.*
"uh, hello."
*He says, and has instant recognition of Roxanne... and glances once at Tristan.*(tristan)
He.... just.... groans, muttering “better hope baby oil saves your ass when I’m done with you, boyo...” even if he’s grinning, and hell, digs the hole deeper still as he arches a brow at Roxanne “Have a heart and at least get a strap on...” A playful swipe toward James, though he doesn’t connect, too busy really inhaling a burger as he turns toward the door – just knowing this comment will come out wrong too. “Hey Lars! I checked out that peroxide fox for you.....” which is precisely why he says it that way, of course.Laughter falls as he waits for the Foresti to enter in so he can repeat intros, nodding once again as he meets that glance. “Lars – Get Foresti, Roxanne – GeDub kin. She’s cool man – she even brings food. Help yourself...” Nods to the beer and bag of takeout with a grin.
(imogen)
As Lars steps in, he can hear the brief hurry of foot steps, a smaller woman's pace quickening to catch up before the door closes shut, and avoiding the need to knock altogether. "Ta," briefly tossed in the Forseti's direction as Imogen steps into the warmth of the warehouse.Christ. Damned party over at the Eagle's turf.
Perhaps, despite the late hour, she is just out of work, because this is no casual wear, and perhaps not quite suited to the greyness of the warehouse, the dinginess of it all. Black slacks over her slender legs, shoes instead of boots. It suits her, however, even as it does not suit the locale, the kind of subdued elegance of clothing, business attire, even if, surely, the dead did not care. The temperature has dropped rapidly, and she wears gloves on her hands, gloves that are being quickly removing them as she smirks briefly at the sight of the Gnawers inhaling food and the apparent Gee-Dub kin who had brought it.
(roxanne)
Her head lifts up, eyes torn away from the book to scope over parts and then up further to slide over to Lars. A small smirk plays across lush, full lips.A simple "Hey." is offered to Lars. Roxanne leans down to set the book on the ground and begins to pull off her jacket. She starts to laugh at Tristan's comment. Snorting with a sultry retort of her own back at him. "I don't have strap on, Tris, but I got a modified vibrator at home that might work...." she flashes him a wide smile, winking. Letting her part of the coversation die on that note, Roxanne picks absently at the parts, glancing over the manual and then the water heater, making an attempt to piece it back together.
(lars)
*His first instinct at the rush of steps behind him is to turn and attack... which is quelled into something that was just a snap turn of his head. He took a step back and waited for Imogen to enter and then turned his attention back to those already inside.Cold fire burns in his icy blue eyes as he meets Roxanne's look with his own.
He stays rather quiet as the gnawers and the glasswalker exchange barbs back and forth. And decides a beer might be in order after all.*
(lars)
*And then it sunk in that others spoke to him, however breifly*
"Hello Roxanne of the glasswalkers." *He says in simple reply back. His english tinted with a slight german accent, and obviously a language taught, not used while growing up in the manner he chooses his wording.*(james)
a glance into the bag
several burgers left
it's tossed towards either Imogen (nod up) or the Forseti
whichever is closest
he, himself, is reaching for a beer
not.... exactly.... unaware of Lars' reaction to seeing the new blond
(not quite the reaction that's been happening all night, is it)boots in a comfortable tirangle of weight lock against the ground
muscle through his thighs tensing to shove weight backwards
the bottom of the crate scraping against the concrete slab flooring
a part of it is making room for Roxy to work on the heater
the other is creating the sound to drawn attention to the Gnawer that has...
... well.... already finished that burger
(does he even chew?)
a slow look meandering from Glasswalker to Fenrir and back"Y'all 'ave hist'ry?"
(imogen)
It's amazing how fast her reactions are.You can sense when a Garou thinks you're a threat. Feel it to the marrow of your bones, right to the core. When he whips his head to look at her, quelling the rage, part of what quells it might simply be that her hands lift, one more than the other, an immediate automatic reaction. She carries no weapons. She is no threat. It's not fear that causes the reaction, but some automatic habit, as if this were a scenario she's played out before.
There is a sweep of an eyebrow upward at the volley of innuendo between the Urrah tribes, a brief shake of her head, the conversation sliding around her, pushing her gloves into her jacket, and beginning to unbutton the dark suede coat, one handed.
Dark eyes flick upward as James asks his question, her gaze flicking between Roxanne and Lars.
(lars)
"No history."
*No, it was simply that the fires that burned inside. Stoked ever greater by luna becoming more full, could not be instantly dimished... as if they ever were. Unfortunately, the glasswalker kin was the next to meet the gaze of the fenrir forseti.He took a few deep breaths, and grabed a burger and a beer. And drank down the beer quickly.*
(tris)
He remains where he is – somewhat near the heater and thus Roxanne, handing her things when she asks for them. Burger has disappeared, and he grabs a beer before its passed around as well, grinning at Imogen. “Evening. You’re meal from last night’s in the fridge there, too.” And probably won’t be after tonight – midnight snackage and all.He chuckles, and doesn’t dignify Roxanne’s comment with a response. Yet.
He adds after Lars through. “She came in while we were waiting for dinner last night, Lars, Imogen and me – Imogen, this here’s Roxanne, Roxanne, Imogen.” No tribe given, he knows better then to give much of anything without the redhead’s permission. He finishes filling in. “Lars heard her ask for Mark’s address on the phone, asked me to check her out and make sure she was one of ours, simple as that.” Course, he didn’t expect the easy instant friendship – that’s just gravy.
(lars)
*Quietly, Lars walks over more directly to James. His voice a bit lowered while everyone else speaks among themselves still. The man had something to say...something he's been thinking about for sometime. Ever since he talked to decker that first night really...
And not really knowing how to ask, without sounding too stupid, he went for the direct approach.*
"James, I was wondering...
if you see Decker or Erik. I would be honored to submit myself to the tests to try and join your pack. Could you pass along that message for me, if you see them?"(roxy)
Roxanne looks up again at the turn of conversation, despite her actions. She was listening, rather intently, as they talked about her. She gives Lars another look over, then to Imogen with a familiar nod of 'hello' and finally her eyes move back to James, answering his question. "No, no history. Saw'im in the pub last night with Imogen and Tristan. That's it."It was an odd attraction between the two kinfolk, Tristan and Roxanne, some bizarre chemistry allowing them to simply click personality wise and play off the other in a quick friendship. There were very few, if any people, Roxanne had never experienced that feeling before. She motions off towards the beer, "Please, gimme a beer, Tris."
Her weights shifts, sliding down to perch on her knees, leather creaks as it pulls tightly over her muscled thighs. The light muscular structure wround its way through her hard-coiled frame, to flex and relax, with her movements. "To shed some light on things. Lars' concern probably stems from my inquiries about Mark Gaines. I've got close past connections with the boy. I'm just lookin' for him." shoulders roll in a shrug, afixing her attentions back to applying parts on the water heater. The soft clang of tools used and dropped when they served their purpose.
(gwyneth dawn)
*Gwy has just arrived in town. She has never been there but heard lots of incredible things. The Irish girl grabs a heavy bag and wanders nearby a warehoue or something like that. In fact, she has no idea how she got there. The young lady's lost*(roxy)
to James, Tristan: to Roxanne Whitaker: 6D10 Dice Roll: 8; 9; 3; 6; 5; 10((I think that water heater is good as fixed tonight *LOL*)
(james)
the fullmoon's chin dips in a nod
not used to having a Forseti around
it's all about the recalculation of that time of the month"Fair' nuff... rather playit safe 'n sorry wi' what goin' on ou'side."
then the deep umber eyes - color of Gaia's bodily soil - lift when the Cliath approaches
most Fosterns provide some constant reminder of their attained rank
the Bone Gnawer, however, is not one of them
he did just as a kinfolk for help, after all
Lars is granted the same caliber of his attention and consideration"Sure thing Lar'." the smile easy, if lopsided "Consid'r it done."
but his attention strafes past Lars
in fact, it goes past the entire gathering and towards the half-open bay doors
over the sound of the radio quietly leaking classic rock into the warehouse
there was a car door slamming outside (....cab? all cars of the pack accounted for 'cept the Monte)
and footsteps he didn't recognize the pattern of intermittant with the currently playing commercial(tristan)
He grins and grabs another beer, pops the top and hands it to the leather-clad kin who’s working her magic on the waterheater with a wink.After a moment.. “reminds me – Met up with that LeRoy who the warning went out about the imposter? Guys a freak, but ok, Jim says he’s got some old family that likes to hitch a ride now and again, that’s why he’s an real asshole occasionally. However – he’s foul mouthed and crude, and while that’s not necessarily bad, seems has a habit of getting extra protective of Mister Gaines and laying hands on the ladies and demanding explanations that aren’t any of his business. Big ass black man – can’t miss him.” Just a little note of warning for the girls.
Then his gaze is following James, brow arched slightly as he looks towards the doors and back again...
(gwyn)
*Gwy hears some voices and approaches cautiously. Maybe she should ask someone where the hell she is. She saw the shadow of a person at the door and approaches timidly* hello?? Excuse me... *Strong Irish accent*(imogen)
The kinfolk glances over at Tristan as she leaves her jacket on, but open, some relief to the heat. "Is it?" A rhetorical question. It's a toss up as to whether or not she'll take it, or leave it to the wolves, as it were. "Thanks." Non-American tones, low voiced and quiet, the particular tones of the particular part of the world she grew up, where english was the first language, but not quite spoken the way it is spoken here. Foreigner, if only slightly.Her gaze flicks toward Roxanne, a slight nod, downward, "A pleasure," automatic words as they're introduced.
A sideways glance toward Tristan, a brief smirk, "Met 'im, I think," notes the woman, as her gaze, too, flicks toward the sound of car doors, and foot steps that, to discerning ears are not familar. Her weight shifts slightly attempting to distribute it more comfortably, her posture changing, subtly as a hand reaches up to push back strands of flame hued hair away from her face, tucking them into the braid that attempted to tame the chaos of her mane.
The irish accent, perhaps catches her attention more than most, but after a beat, the woman starts to stand, favouring one side over the other, glancing toward the timid woman who had approached.
Hell. Honestly, she's surprised the woman hasn't turned tail and run off. "'Lo. Can we help yeh?"
(lars)
*He listens to Tristan, but his head turns to follows James' gaze out of the warehouse. Another approaches.Safe inside, he sniffs the air...and old habit that's hard to break.*
"Not like you or me James."
*He says softly to James.*(swyn)
*Glances at Imogen timidly and smiles* Uh... well... yes! Could you please tell me where I am exactly, ma'am? *She's a Fianna kinfolk and for those who can sense, she's a PB4*(james)
"Evr'ybody got their fan-club....."and whatever the result of that comment was is lost at the voice filtering in from the door
as the yet-to-be-replaced PR guy for the pack, James is up and crossing the room
right on the tails of Lar's instinctive warning
invisable sphere of Rage that grows in concurrence with the moon floating before him
and by the time he's a few feet away from the timidly lost woman
there's no question about what she is.... fancy that.
another one."Pretty bad sect'n a th' riv'rfron'.....thinkin' y'r more'n lost.... miss...?"
brows lift in question
most likely asking her name
much less her business out here(gwyn)
*Timid and full of grace. Her voice's deffinately a blessing and her movements reveal the breed in her blood. She turns her eyes to Jamie as he approaches and smiles* Indeed... I am. My name's Gwyneth and thank you for the info, Mr...(imogen)
She catches the gist of Lars's words, her gaze sliding sidways toward the Forseti and then the Ahroun, before her attention slides back.The amount of Fianna blood in the area has perhaps just gotten intolerable. Pure Fianna blood, for that matter, since that was something that the doctor had in spades. James falls in to speak, and the slender woman, turns away, leaving the Forstern Ahroun to whatever he might plan to do.
(roxy)
"Same here, Imogen." her eyes drift up to settle on the redhead, returning the nod.A hand stops what its doing with a wrench, drops the tool and replaces it with the offered beer. She raises it to her mouth, taking a few deep swallows, silent and vigliant on the new timid creature that creeps her way under the bay doors. Roxanne shifted her concerns with casual interest back down to the water heater. She sets the bottle down, going back to the task of fixing it. The job was coming along quite well and with haste.
(tristan)
He chuckles a bit at Imogen- given a fight between LeRoy, even in full asshole mode, and the pretty redhead, he’d lay bets on Imogen any day of the week. He tips his beer back, half way watching James and the girl asking directions, while partially watching Roxanne as she works her magic with the waterheater.(lars)
*Lars settles in behind James instictively, but doesn't say anything.*(james)
timid and full of grace
a definite opposite of the guttermutt standing before her
six foot two and topped by a tangle of brown dreads tamed into a ponytail that dangles past his shoulderblades
a wifebeater that has seen far better days clinging to his torso above tattered and faded BDUs that were secondhand far before he owned them"James." slowed down to include all the letters, there's clarity in the word compared to something that slurs the rest of what isn't clipped by an obvious accent originating from somewhere near the Big Apple "S'm'thin' in partic'lar y'r lookin' for?"
he can feel Lars moving up behind him
even if the Forseti is doing it nice and quietly
it allows him to lean a shoulder against the wall near the doorframe
dark scars on his back creeping up over the curve of muscle bunching as arms fold loosely across his chest(gwy)
*Smiles politely since it's quite hard to understand what that guy from NY is trying to say* Jame...nice to meet ya. *Glances at Lars and wonders if she's at the right place...or if she's in dangerous. Her eyes turnt o look at James again* No... not really... I am... I mean, I've just arrived in town and I assume I got lost. I was looking for a place... I know no one in town. *Smiles softly* I'm sorry if I disturbed you or your friends.(tristan)
He stands and relocates the food bag, grabbing anther burger before reclaiming his... chair? Bits of pipe and wood made into something that resembles a seat, anyway. He settles and starts to inhale the second burger. Between bites, as Imogen moves this way again, he asks quietly. “So, Imogen. Hatching a plan for a christmas gift for Decker – need some help though. Roxanne here is gonna help me get the Tacoma back road worthy and in pristine condition. I’d like to have it done before Decker notices, but have a feeling that won’t go... think I should just fess up and tell him and ask to borrow the truck, or have James borrow the truck for a few days and get it into another workspace?”(imogen)
She doesn't much appear to be watching anything, here, neither Roxanne with the waterheater, nor James and the stranger, taking out a package of cigarettes and zippo lighter with one hand, tapping out a cigarette and sliding it into her mouth. The process is one handed, and she doesn't light the cigarette before offering the cigarette pack to Tristan, raising an eyebrow in query."A Christmas gift?" she echoes, her lips twitching in a wry smirk around her filter, reminded that yes, it was that time of the year. "Christ, I don't know," if he takes the cigarette package, her hand returns to pick up the zippo from the bench, lighting the fag, drawing in her first drag in, before she answers again, exhaling cigarette smoke, "Guess it depends on how important it is fer yeh to surprise 'im."
(james)
"Nuh." he may go six ways from furry on Sundays, but today is a far more congenial day, something that happened earlier simply inspired this striking good mood in the streetcorner drummer, or maybe it's just the inherant style that somehow graces his rough appearences "Bett'r y' come up here th'n fall into whatev'r's lurkin' ou'side." weight lifts from the wall "C'mon in."he turns to lead back inside
no verbal or outward sign Lars is expected to watch his back and bring up the rear
he's well aware what mere kinfolk are capable of doing
but the exposure of his back reveals the patterning of scars that disappears beneath his belt
the thin fabric of the wifebeater doesn't do much to cover it
some Garou inflicted some serious damage some time agoand there's something strange about the warehouse as he leads Gwyn inside - it's warm
not just comfortably warm, but warm
as if there was a heater running full throttle
and not a lick of it escaping the bay doors
there's an offhand wave to the chairs pulled straight out of Junkyard Wars"Make y'rself comf'ble."
(gwyn)
*Shrugs slightly at his invitation. She's not sure she should go inside. As she steps in she feels a bit comfortable. Glances around and at everyone there. Nods slightly. Obviously, she's feeling insecure. Smiles at Tristan* Oh... thank you...*turns to James beforing taking a seat* I'm not sure I should be here...*rubs her neck as she places her heavy bag on the floor*(tris)
He laughs and shrugs. “I’d like to surprise him – but I’m much more interested in not having his blade shoved into me again for any reason. Might take up to a week too, don’t know if I can spirit the truck away from him for that long either.”He tips his bottle back again, before inhaling the rest of the burger. Gwy gets a nod followed by a good natured. “Lo, there.” As she is invited in to take a seat.
(imogen)
A shrug, "I can't see why he wouldn't believe James borrowin' his truck. 'Course, yer lost if 'e says no." A glance upward as Gwyneth enters, but unlike Tristan, she doesn't offer a greeting.
(roxanne)
Too many different conversations were going on at one time for Roxanne to focus her concentration enough to eavesdrop. She attunes her ears to Imogen and Tristan, listening with bemused interest. She offers Imogen a wry smirk. "All I need to do is drive the truck out of here with my life intact. I can fix it and redo the paint job on it. I've already got the parts on order. The truck'll be gone a few days maximum, unless of course, I have some problems." she shrugs her shoulders, looking down at the water heater, which was now complete and fixed. Not one spare part out of place. "Which I doubt I will."Hands swim over the ground, clinking tools between her calloused palms, dropping them with a defined clunk into the tool box. She looks down at her dirty hands, brushing them clean, as best she could and stands up.
"Well, water heater is finished. Now it just needs to be installed." She calls over to James, resting her hands on her hips and looking quite proud of her handiwork. Roxanne was a useful kinfolk, if anything, when her talents were put to work.
(lars)
*Lars understands what to do without words. Such are unnecessary..even wasteful.He stands by the door as James walks inside, and watches the woman walkin. Almost shaking his head from the wift of pure breed that assaults his nose.
As Gwyneth enters, he closes the door... but continues to stand by it.*(tristan)
He considers this, and nods. “Think I’ll ask James to make the request first – then if he says no I’ll fess up. Least I gave it a good college try that way.”He looks back at the waterheater, and the lack of ‘spare parts’ on the floor and grins up at Roxane as she stands. “You’re mighty handy to have around there chica. Backrubs and hot water? I’m definitely keeping you – Mark can kiss my ass.” He winks, and opens her another beer, handing it up before he offers one to Gwy....” Wanna beer?”
(lexi)
She had been walking towards the wherehouse...and then she had stopped for a beer. Why the hell not, it wasnt like she had to be anywhere any time soon.
Eriks burlap backpack still hanging over one shoulder. Camo jacket open over the flannel shirt...Jeans, hiking boots.
Blond hair pulled up into a pony tail. She could be cute...if she really wanted to be...but she had much more important things to worry about then caking some make up on, and playin some cut eol -fuck me now- kinfolk.
In fact...it was rare to see her smile, let alone laugh. Very few got through the labrynth that was her mind..
Very few actually tired.
She didnt really care about that though...she didnt need them to like her, they accepted her in the pack, that was enough for her...
She had spent a few days with Erik getting shit figured out...She had done what he needed.
Now she headed to the wherehouse..much better setting fo the Eagle pack then the luxury of Runes condo. Much more fitting.Moving to the bay door she lifts it up and ducks under it to enter.
(assuming thats how one enters a wherehouse))
She Takes a look around to see who is at the flophouse tonight.
(decker)
What is with people and closing the door on him lately?About ten seconds after Lars closes the door, it slams open again. If Lars is standing close enough, it'll slam open on Lars. Decker walks in, steelshod boots [must've been kickin someone's head in again] tracking suspicious redbrown grime over the bare concrete. His grey eyes sweep the gathering as he half-coughs under his breath. Twice the usual amount of Fianna pure breeding tonight. Then he fixes his attention on Lars.
"So ya want in."
Doesn't word travel fast among the Eagles.(roxanne)
She laughs aloud, head canting at downward to shake slowly. Peroxide blond dreadlocks gathered back into a ponytail with a few strands framing the hard lines of her face. She accepts the beer with a heartfelt thanks. "I sincerely try to be, Tris, it's better than sittin' around on mah ass and actin' pretty." she cracks open the bottle taking a deep drink. "I'll let you carry the looks, Tristan, I'll do the grunt work." pointing a finger at him. She finally, lets her cobalt-blue gaze fall on Gwyneth with a curious glance. Lush full lips pull back in a false smile for the Irish lass. Garbed in leather pants and a vintage Rolling Stones t-shirt. She fit the gutter street appearance like some of the others.(gwy)
*Beer is something she loves. Purses her lips at the offer. She grew up drinking beer she could say. Nods slightly and takes it* Thank you...*sips it. Maybe beer would help her to calm down her nerves. Not she's a nervous type but being there among unknown people isn't really cool. Notes the false smile... and wonders if she's welcome there. Smiles at Roxane, but her smile is genuine and not false*(lars)
*Two people enter suddenly. His own rage was high, luna was showing the face of his birth. But before he could react at Lexi walking in..the door is slammed up against him.Lars doesn't even grunt..and his eyes widen at Decker's words. but how..
After a blink, he nods his head*(lexi)
Well she sees them.
They all happen to be there...or so it seems. That door may as well be a revolving door, cause as Lars entered...
Then She entered
Then Decker entered..
She finds herself among a whole shitload of people..some she knew, some she didnt...
Didnt really matter...She was welcome here, she was already told that, so instead of making any introductions, or being overly friendly...she grabs a sort-of-chair and sits..
Reaching into the burlap backpack, which resembles Mary Poppins purse at times, she could just pull shit out of it and make someone go *huh* howd that all fit in there.
Out comes a 6 pack.
Out comes a bottle of whiskey for herself.
She slides the 6 pack over to where some of the other people were...so it sat out as public beer...Opening the whiskey she takes a drink and wipes her mouth on her sleeve. Erik style
Then she just observes.(james)
"Well.... y' c'n either freeze." nodded back towards the open door "'r get t'know ev'ryone."it's grinned easily enough
if... somewhat lopsided
he's never going to smile completely again, that's for sure
but he's not about to coddle the timid kin no matter how lost she is
(he stopped coddling kins long ago)"Beaauuuuuutiful."
immediate switch of attention to Roxanne's declaration
and oddly, he really is talking about the declaration
and not the Glasswalker kin herself
door slams back open to announce the Modi's entrance
oh hey, there's Lexi, too
and he can't help but laugh at the greetinghe told the kid to consider it done
and since the other two Garou are busy
James grabs the creeper that was settled up against the toolboxes
rolling the weight of the waterheater proper onto it
he's not going to risk breaking it by dragging it to the bathroom
it just got fixed, dammit"Wha's this 'bout me...."
aimed towards the powwowing kin before he moves the heater away
(gwyn)
*Her eyes show she's lost... even more than when she was alone. She glances at those who has just got in. She remains in silence, next to Tristan and James. All she does is to drink her beer with pleasure and everyone can notice that. Watches them curiously. The more one listens, the more one learns... she has heard that before. Shrugs at James comment though she hardly understood what he said*(tristan)
“Welcome, ma’am.” Winked at Gyn before he stands, chuckling, and moves to ‘help’ James with the waterheater, though he’s the far stronger of the two – obviously. Mainly it gives him a chance to lower his voice and whisper his request since the modi has now joined the party.They’re gonna need more beer.
But with a grin, he murmurs under the level of conversation. “worked a trade with Roxanne to fix the Tacoma. Need you to ask Decker if you can borrow it for a couple of days so I can get it outa here and to a garage where she and I can work on it. Wanna return it in pristine condition.” James will know how much it means to him to do so. Stupid mistake, there is no easy retribution, but at least he will fix what was broken partially because of him. “If he says no, i’ll fess up. But i’d prefer to keep it on the downlow until finished...”
(imogen)
"However yeh want t'do it," says Imogen to Tristan, negligently as she stands, walking over to one of James's ashtrays, tapping cigarette ash into the pale glass receptacle, exhaling smoke out of the corner of her mouth.Lexi's entrance garners a glance, a brief smirk, which is what the blonde tall Fenrir gets for a greeting, followed by Decker's abrupt no-holds-barred entrance, greetingless and the beginnings of what is probably pack initiation.
The cigarette returns to her mouth, the hand falling away to rub briefly at the back of her neck, before her attention shifts again, dark eyed gaze across the occupants of the warehouse, features blandly expressionless.
(mark gaines)
Word got around, as it often does, about the haunts frequented by the more boisterious packs in a burg. This fit the bill.Steam from the now-at-rest engine seemed to trail and cling in the wake of his movement to the frosted chilled air. Leather from that jacket creaked in the same rythmic pace of athletic shoes on wet pavement. Faded blue jeans flexed alternately taut and loose with each easy stride. Fingerless black gloves flexed along with the errant opening and closing of calloused hands. The sculpted sheen of his shaven pate was covered with a tobaggan-style knit cap. The clothes served as good insulation to maintain the fire within, but failed to conceal the tall one's athletic form.
Facetted blue eyes burned with an altogether different fire, one brought on by his birth under the full and pregnant face of Luna. The lines of his youthful handsome face were set in a stoic expression of everpresent control- always a hairsbreadth from being lost. His even breath made frosty wisps that added to the imagery of the boiling cauldron within.
Nostrils flared as he neared the territory of the other wolf pack. There was no hesitation as the Alpha rapped on the door of the warehouse. Announcement was an old courtesy even one of his modern ways enjoyed.
(decker)
"You want in, you run with us fer a while." He sidesteps to let Lexi in the door with barely a glance needed. She's Get, he's Get - they got an understanding of the blood. "You hang around our turf, you protect our kin. You're at our side in battle 'n when our Alpha talks, you lissen. Coupla weeks go by, maybe even a coupla months. You prove we kin trust ya at our back - then yer in. Git?"
(lexi)
What the fuck had she chosen to use as a chair..this one was definately made in a drunken stupor, cause there was something poking in her ass... but shit, she didnt make it and wasnt gonna bitch.
Readjusting herself, maybe it was meant for someone shorter...she drinks from the whiskey bottle...Watching, listening, and just staying quiet...A nod to Imogen...wow so she wasnt completely invisible tonight. Didnt really matter to her, she didnt need to be the center of attention...eyes move to the cigarette in her hand..mmmm she didnt smoke a lot..but once in a while it was nice..and when she had a whiskey bottle in one hand, a smoke was always nice..Too bad Imogen couldnt read minds, cause she wasnt about to go askin for one.
She watches Decker talkin to Lars...Erik had met Lars for only a moment...but then again anyone seeing Erik for a long time was rare.
She leans back a bit, careful not to topple off the sort-of-chair. Observing the mad tea party of misfits.(roxy)
Roxanne leaves the installation of the water heater to the Gnawers. She bends down to scoop up her jacket, moving off to claim the makeshift chair, that once held James and Tristan's ass on it. Long legs stretch out, boots crossing at the ankles, left over right, splaying the jacket over her lap. The beer finds a place beside her chair on the floor within hand's reach. She spurns her attention on the pockets of her coat, looking for something and listening. She was only here by invite of Tristan. Whether Eagle's Chosen wanted to let her stay was another issue entirely, but they were going to be neighbors soon. Might as well get cozy.(lars)
*Well that's simple enough...and the odd thing, basically what he was doing already. Perhaps that was a sign of things to come.But it also gave time for the pack's alpha to really be able to judge the fenrir forseti.*
"I accept the challenge, Decker-rhya. I will earn my place in the pack."(james)
he's not exactly rolling the heater into the bathroom
more towards the little closed that had been converted at some point in time in the building's spotty history
next to it is am even more questionable closet which purportedly within the behemoth second-(fourth?)-hand heater fits
that's where he drops off the heater
it can be installed later
that much he knows how to do
there's just other things that need doing at the moment"Need a borrow it a few day' comin' up soon, an'way." he doesn't elaborate on why "Fine me 'nother ride I c'n trus' onna road trip, 'n I'll ask t' borrow the truck."
back towards the group
.... somewhat
he stops on the far end of the island of domesticity
a glance to Decker and Lars, seems the Modi's handling the firsts
another imperceptible expression at yet another knock on the door
but his attention is somewhere else, calling out:"Im'gen..... gotta minute?"
(gwyn)
*Siping her beer, she hears some few words that reach her ears and brain. Did she hear kin and Alpha? Hell, she's among family. Glances at Decker curiously and stands slowly. Not that anyone really notices her there but she'll at least try to introduce herself. Chews her lips softly as she watches everyone, waiting an opportunity to say something*(decker)
The unrelenting grey stare relaxes after a beat. Decker nods - up first, as always - and lets a bare hint of a smirk show. "Jus' keep doin' whatcha already been doin'," he says, and then reaches behind him to pull the door open on a swing that leaves him behind it, instinctively shielded against whatever intruder might stand outside.But it's not an intruder per se. It's Mark Gaines, resident Glass Walker fostern. Decker glances the other over, then grunts.
"Hell you doin' here?"
(imogen)
Imogen was not a mind reader, but she was, at times, terrifyingly perceptive. Lexi isn't that far away, and her pale blue eyed gaze was caught by the smaller woman (because Lexi, and in fact, most of the people in the room dwarf Imogen by a foot), and such a gaze is perhaps not so hard to read.She glances at James as he speaks, crossing to where she'd been sitting, to pick up the cigarette package in her left hand, and toss it in the Fenrir kinfolk's direction, before turning to face the Bone Gnawer Ahroun, a bare glance over her shoulder as the warehouse becomes victim to yet another Ahroun and visitor. The rage must be almost intolerable for some. It's not quite past half moon, but it's a tangible feeling, almost as if it were solid.
"Yeah," she says in James's direction, exhaling the last of her cigarette smoke, and stabbing out her cancer stick, "What is it?"
(mark)
The blast of below-freezing temperature, from the Modi's opening of the door, is accompanied by the well timed blast of frozen breath from the muscular athlete's heated chest cavity. Blue fire glints in the newfound light.Decker's grunt is greeted by that street-style backwards nod, so popular with the kids these days, "Welcome wagon. Forgot the fuckin' fruit basket," his deep bass carried with a resonating rumble that a person could feel along their spine.
(roxy)
A hand snakes out to retrieve her beer bottle, crossing muscled arms over well-rounded chest. Her free hand rubs over flexed bicep on her bare left arm. The other hand, beer in it, brings the bottle to her lips. Cobalt-blue eyes drinking in the activity. She calls over to Gwyneth from behind her bottle. The rolling rivers of pent up testerone and rage, did very little to affect her sense. "You might want to wait until formalities are done, before speakin' up."It was the deep, resonating bass of a long ago familiar voice that snaps the Glass Walker kin's eyes. Roxanne begins to choke on a long sip from her bottle. Eyes widening at the sight of Mark. She straightens up, legs folding inward, as she heaves in air, forcing out a coughing fit.
(lexi)
Wow...perhaps Imogen was a mind reader...she catches the smoke..and actually cracks a slight smile and nod in Imogens direction...Pulling out a matchbook
-still from Jersey -
showing how often she she used them, she lights the smoke...and takes a big drag....then the tall blonde stands up...Leaving the beer on the floor for the others...she tosses the now partially drank whiskey bottle back into the backpack, and throws the good strap over her shoulder.
One more quick glance around...still no words, no intorductions...whoever needed to know here here did...whoever didnt know her, still didnt.
She walks towards the door - which seemed to now be blocked by yet-another-new-face.
She doesnt look like the friendliest of folk, she certainly isnt the welcome wagon...Giving Decker a quick nod...she mutters..."later deck" enough said there...and yet her only 2 words since she got here.
Standing at the doorway, feeling the razor sharp wind on her face...yeah why didnt we pick Florida again? She looks impatient...as if she had been waiting to exit for an hour, when in fact it was about 10 seconds.(tristan)
He nods, that easy going grin sliding free in thanks. “I’ll see what I can drum up. Thanks man.”There’s other things he needs to tell the Gnawer too, and as Imogen makes the decision whether to make the trek over to join them he does so, quick and dirty, soft and sure. Sometimes you gotta take the opportunities given. “Got another message from Jim. Heard what I said about LeRoy right? Turns into more of an ass when his anscestors are skinriding. Anyway – other stuff. There’s a pack in Hyde. Took a shot at Jim, ended up loosing his duffle of all his shit when he had to run. He’s all right, but pissed as all fuck. Says they’re Gnawers.” Thats one. “Saw Erik, gave him the rundown on everything up till couple days ago – he said he’d be around soon.” That’s two. And last but not least. “There’s a guy – Isa. Claims he’s bastet, Decker kicked his ass to the curb the night we went after the baby – he’s hanging with Jim, keeps trying to get in with the packs for ‘mutual benefits’ but he won’t say what those are exactly. Like I said, Decker kicked him to the curb, Jim says he’ll keep an eye on him, and get with me to pass along anything we should know.”
Then a grin for Imogen, belated one for Lexi, and then a glance of concern as Roxanne folds over into a coughing fit – all before he see’s who’s at the door...
(gwyn)
*Rubs her forehead. Sips her beer and breathes deeply. Feels like a ghost among them all. Glances at her beer and chuckles. She doesn't know what to do exactly. As she hears Roxane, she approaches and speaks in low voice* Uh... sure then...(decker)
Decker looks down at Mark's empty hands, then back at the man."Like booze better anyway," he says, and he sounds serious. It's a suggestion for the next visit. A jerk of his head toward the yawning interior of the warehouse and its small island of liveability where most the others were congregated serves as an invitation. Lars is on his way out, and Decker shuts the door after the Forseti. Locks it. Nothing fancy: just a heavy steel bolt as thick as four bunched fingers shot into the wall.
The clank echoes off the high vaulted ceilings. Decker turns and brings up the rear. There isn't much in the warehouse. Just a few sleeping pallets, a table or two, some food, a "new" water heater, a generator for the emergency lights that serve as lighting.
(james)
he's on the far side of the little island of habitation that the majority is currently occupying
it affords the Ahroun a nice view of what's going on in their warehouse
(grand. fucking. central.station.)
plus it spreads the Rage out nicely in the cavernous interior
allowing something of a semi-private conversation
a foot hooks into a sortofchair and pulls it to where he can sit
nodding to Tristan to grab one, too
and waving Imogen over
he waits until the firey kin joins them before continuing.... or at least taking in the Gnawer kin's spilling his guts
and there's a nod and scowl at the first, another nod at the second, and slow consideration of the third
(all of it passed on to the Modi totem-phone-impression-style, since he's busy and all)"Allrigh'..... now eith'r'v yeh come up wi' more'n the Maneat'rs?"
so the mention of Gnawers shooting at Gnawers makes him a bit suspicious
(lexi)
Ok that was just -rude-
She doesnt say a thing, she wouldnt call him out on it right there...it was Decker for fucks sake, he wasnt the one to bitch at...but the fact she said ~later Deck~ and was standing at the door should have been a good indication she was heading - out- and to have the door shut and locked at that moment was like a quick slap in the face, even if unintentional.
She didnt care though...no big deal. She was just a kinfolk, so being invisible was common. As Decker invites the new face in, she pulls open the bolt and again releases the door heading out...She almost chuckles...but that could very well break her face. Backpack over her shoulder...Beer left as offering to the hounds...She heads out into the night...The wind slapping at her face..reddining her cheeks.(imogen)
She rubs her hand briefly against the curve of her forehead, a brief movement that might denote some level of fatigue, deeper set than some days. The hand falls down to brush against her slacks, the pale white of her skin almost shocking against the black of her pants."Yeah. S'why I'm 'ere," she answers James, leaning her back against the almost frigid wall of the warehouse, the gift not extending to warming the cement. The cold seeps through her jacket, clothing, bandages to her skin, as she continues, her hand pushing back strands of hair from her face. "I've got bodies. All o' 'em 'ave been eaten."
(roxy)
The 6pk of beer that Lexi brought still sat out in the open for claiming. The 12pk that Roxanne brought was almost depleted of its goods, perhaps maybe 1-2 bottles left in the case.Roxanne remains, double-overed, slightly, beer hand held away from her. Free hand curls into a closed fist to pound over her chest a few times. Watery eyes, squeeze shut, until her air passage was clear again. And the coughing fit subsides a little.
(tris)
He runs his hand through his curls, holding them back... there was... ah – that was it, names. “in the park – names are Dizzy and Smokey.” There. Then at the question he shakes his head. “nothing more then vague rumors of ‘dog attack’ victims. Still none of ours been taken. Jim’s working on some details, but nothing as of yet.” Just call him the messenger boy. “no one seems to know anything definite...”(mark)
Lars is given a nod of recognition. The half-moon and he were acquaintances, after all. Decker's suggestion was answered by a sound that ... well could mean anything. Affirmation. Noncomittal. A deep rumble of an "mmmm,"As soon as he stepped into the interior, it was either by chance or fate that he stopped underneath the circle of emergency light, "Wish this were a social call," he said to the Modi behind him. Trust, for the positioning? Confidence? Something.
A swift motion he uses to mop that knit cap off of his face, allowing the sculpted, symetrical features of his scalp, and strong jaw, to capture the illumination. A slow pan of those fiery windows to that burgeoning Rage had the dual purpose of checking out the interior, as well as the individuals. Any of the ones within.. James, Tristan, Imogen, Gwyneth, received just a touch of eye contact, but not enough to unsettle those not of the true birth, and a barely perceptible nod.
He had shrugged off the black leather when his eyes fell upon Roxie. Beneath was a longsleeved shirt that hugged those obvious lines of sinew like a second skin. For a second he paused holding the garment, considering her. The barest beginning of a smile won the fight to overlay those hard lines, "I'll be goddamned," a slow smokey sound in the acoustics of the warehouse, "You sent me that email, Roxie," he stated with decisiveness.
(james)
a brow lifts at Imogen's affirmation
well, that worked out nicely
and the Ahroun lets his neck flex into a nod
distracted breifly by the nodup offered to the new Garou that Decker escorted
the Gnawer shifts in his seat
drawing the thin wifebeater tight against ashed scars in stretch
dragging the battered Jansport pack a little closer
fishing out the Thomas Guide
flipping through until he finds the detail surrounding Hyde Park"He say where 'e was when't happen?" deep umber flicks to Imogen "Y'got time 'n place?"
(gwyn)
*Finishes her beer and lights a cigarette*(decker)
"Ain't ever a social call," mutters Decker, a little distracted by the running commentary over the totemphone. Lexi slamming the door loud enough to wake the dead makes him shoot a scowl over his shoulder, though. Jesus fuckin' Christ, woman was a Get all right. His pace, neither fast nor slow, stalking methodically toward the circle of domesticity, doesn't abate a bit. Attention swings back to Mark - "Fuck's this about, then?" - a frisson of irritation showing. It's the second time he's asking, and there won't be a third.And then a brief diversion onto Roxanne and Gwyneth. Nope, don't recognize her. And...nope, don't recognize her, neither. He looks at James, Imogen, Tristan.
"Who's yer friends?" A jerk of his head toward the two new kinfolk.
(roxanne)
Now, Mark as an individual that Roxanne had history with, a well-written moment at that. Once her composure regained, her head lifts up, turning darker blue eyes upon Mark. A ghost of smile, not so false, but more wily, pulls at the corners of those lush, full lips of hers. The husky sound of her voice, accent Southern, but not the kind with a redneck drawl, rolls out words in greeting to Mark. "Goddamned is right, Mark." smooths a hand over her coat on her lap. "Yea, I sent the email. Been tryin' to get a hold of your ass for a few days now. Almost had a rough run with one of your 'boys'."(gwyn)
*Glances at Decker as she drags deeply. A heavy bag next to her, on the ground, shows she's just arrived from somewhere*(tris)
He shakes his head. “He didn’t say where, just that they were living in Hyde and I should steer clear and pass the message on.” Decker heads their way about then, and he glances toward the kinfolk. Wouldn’t decker be surprised to know the pretty boy had been caught cuddled up with the blond that morning.... but he nods to Roxanne. “S’Roxanne. Knows Mark from way back – gedub kin. Friend of mine. The other seems to be lost, arrived on the doorstep, James invited her in.”(roxy)
Roxanne takes the initiative to introduce herself and Gwyneth. "Roxy, Tristan's new shugah momma." she lets that out, taking a sip of her beer. "Water heater's fixed. Beer is there." points with a hand towards the 8 beers left. "And we're gonna be neighbors."(imogen)
She doesn't answer Decker, perhaps because Tristan is answering him, or simply because she's answering James instead."time o' death is being established. Woulda been at night o'er the weekend, though," feeding him her information, "It's all been in warehouses known f'r their parties and raves, though. S'definitely Garou, though," said with absolute confidence.
"Good news is maybe they're just hittin' these parties." A shrug of her shoulder, "Might be easier t'find 'em, that way."
(mark)
There was a pause, and not much change in his expression as Roxie went about her tale, other than the slight increase of his outward expression of mirth. The comment about one of his 'boys' would be explored later. "Good," he decided with a nod, and it was obvious he meant it, as he finished removing that jacket and balling it up with the cap, "You've found me. After we're done here I'll take you to catch up," which meant he had to take a moment to break from the reunion for just a moment.It was unnecessary for Mark to answer Decker's general question about Roxanne. But, it was as much decided in his book. His damn Kin. Nuff said.
Turning to the Modi, the Full Moon web-walker's expression turns to the grim stoic visage that normally slipped in when he was at rest. Fucking joke that. There was never rest. Only coiled tension, ready to be released.
"I'm here to touch base, with you and yours, Decker," The deep tone went a notch louder. It was a voice used to public speaking an filling the room with it's breadth. And truly he looked to all within with his normal leadership tone.
Eyes find the Modi again, "And your Alpha when you introduce him," and really, for all he knew he might already be in the room, "You may or may not of heard. The leadership in this town has skipped. They were the ones looking after the Caern," the furrowed lines of his forehead deepened beneath the obvious shadows of the emergency lights, "I'm now taking over the task where the others.. left off," It took all of his positive thinking to not say 'failed' or 'abandoned'. Sinewy arms fold beneath the shelf of his chest.
"I've been spreading the word. We need a moot. I've been saying the park outside 'o town." Not the caern itself?
(james)
attention breifly flickers up from studying the map
even if it doesn't draw his eyes
though there's little more than a flash of a grin as the others take over introductions
all in all, James is is a GODDAMN good mood, and it shows
it practically reverberates around him in it's own invisable sphere
that even his growing Rage cannot seem to dim
hell, he's even seeming to enjoy the rather dire conversation at handpages whisper and whir as he flips to a more area-inclusive map
turning the guide around to right-side up for Imogen
freehand not only grabbing an extra pack of smokes from the Jansport
but digging out a red magic marker, too"C'n y' mark 'em? Where they found 'r prolly kill r' the par'y 'r whatever." then deep gaze ticktocks back to the kinsman "One. Y' keep'n eye out f'r more par'y's comin' up... Two. Fin' Jim, we gotta talk. Fin' som'ne that know the Rite, 'r elec' som'ne a go learn it."
at that point the public speaking voice filters in
it's not that he hadn't been paying partial attention to the others anyway
just some things were within narrower focus
he does shut up, however, and listen now
that the moot isn't at the Caern doesn't surprise him
he's more interested in that there's one being called(decker)
James invited her in. Disgusted, "Fer fuck's sake."A jolt of rage crackles across the airspace between as he shoots a glare at Roxanne. "Like hell," he retorts, and who knew what he was responding to. It's a southern drawl he has, worn a little thin after years away from home, but there's nothing smooth about it. Gulf Coast Alabama trailer park, through and through. When Gwyneth speaks up he barely flickers a glance at her. Bleeding sarcasm, "S'ppose yer shackin' here too."
Then it's Mark that suddenly has his attention.
"No."
Flat-out. Just like that. It's only after he says it that he turns his head to look at the Glass Walker. Doesn't bother facing him head-on.
"In the Caern."
(gwyn)
*Frowns at the sarcasm but says nothing. That's a NO welcome and she understand it pretty well. At least her people friendly to the newcomers. Shrugs slightly and grabs her bag. She decides to leave*(mark)
That attention is returned. For a bare moment he silently regarded the fenrir while his lips formed a tight line."I'm not calling a moot at the caern. I can't guarantee other Garou's safety. What you do is your business. But me, and everyone else, will be in Tekawitha park." Flat out. Like that.
Eyes flicker to the others in the room. Wondering who was Garou, and who was Kin. James's vibe marked him.
"I don't like doing it on the full," he mused, as he panned his gaze back to Decker, "But I'll live."
(tristan)
He nods, once, watching Decker as he takes in Roxanne, and sends the other one running, chuckling at the sugar momma comment made by Roxanne. Back to James –find the next party, and find jim. “no problem.” Tween Roxanne and him they should be able to track down the party easily enough.(gwyn)
*Drags her cigarette and wanders towards the door. *(decker)
"Guarantee safety?"He's on that like a pit bull on a bleeding leg. The grey eyes are narrowed to slits of thunder and storm. Decker does face Mark fully now, and he takes a single step forward.
"We're Garou. That's a dyin' Caern. 'N you talk to me 'bout fuckin' safety?--Siddown!"
The single word cracks out like the report of a pistol. At first Mark might think he's speaking to him - but he's not. The Modi's looking at the Fianna kin. The new one, with the bag and the friendlier people back home in Ireland.
(Welcome to Chicago, Gwyn.)
(roxy)
The jolt of rage felt in the very core of her bones. Muscles flex and coil in reaction, a sense of strong will keeps Roxanne planted in her chair instead of bolting, but stupidity doesn't show in her demeanor, as she refrains from meeting Decker's glare. Cobalt-blue eyes, glance up meet his gaze, without challenge and slide away again to watch Mark. Her arms fold cross her chest once more, hands rubbing at her bare arms. "No, not shackin' up here. Just buyin' property a few lots down in one of the warehouses. Good place for my business." she replies in a casual tone. It was a damn good place for her business it if was anywhere near a territory of garou.She slides her eyes back to Tristan, offering him a small wink and a smile. Her body, straigheting now, moving to rise up slowly from the makeshift chair. Fingers pull up her leather jacket, sliding into it. There was no need to respond to Mark's statement to her. She knew 'catch up time' would come after business.
The sudden barking order thunders from Decker. It affects more than just Gwyneth. Roxanne's finds her ass planting firmly back down on the chair again without questions, only staring at Decker.(imogen)
She is watching James at his question, and her hand presses against the frigid wall of the warehouse, pushing away from it, and straightening to close the distance to the raggedy Gnawer. James's vibe marks him for a Garou, and Imogen's blood marks her as only that, of the blood. That she is not Garou is in her movements, the lack of warrior's grace."'ere, give it me," she replies holding out her hand for the map book and the redmarker from him and after a brief cast about of her gaze for a flat object to marker on, settles for the warped piece of furniture the Ahroun sits on, kneeling on the frosty floor and smoothing out the mapbook on the welded metal with a hand.
From memory, she marks out parts of the map in red. "Don't 'ave street addresses, sorry. I'll get it f'r yeh tomorrow. But that's where they died. Th'police 'as already been through--" she'd been ignoring almost everything except for James's questions, until that moment, but as the Fenrir Modi's voice snaps out in order, the flame haired woman's head turns, abruptly, her gaze pausing on the Modi. Pause a moment, and then she turns back, purposefully, deliberately, picking up her sentence, as if the interlude had not been there, her voice startling quiet in intensity, when compared to Decker's order, "-- they've already been through th'sites, but I don't recommend goin' back 'ere. This kinda shite draws all sorts o' interest."
(mark)
"Yes," the growl was a deep resounding return, and those blue eyes flickered with something electric. A tingle of tension. Burning. Head dipped reminscient of a ram about to lock horns.
"This city has lost two caerns. And now it looks like a third. Whatever killed it, fucking ate bigger Garou than you,," A finger points, accusatory, "And me. So losing more Garou: Weapons of Gaia: Ain't my fuckin' business. Welcome to the party, Decker," he spat, "This is the music."(gwyn)
*Gwyneth opens the door and teps out. She doesn't say a word. Upset and mad at those which she thought were... "family". Slams the door behind her*(james)
the disgusted comment earns a shrug from the Gnawer
what the hell else was he supposed to do?
he's a fuckin' Hood for Gaia's sake, and she was kin
did the Modi really expect otherwisebut at the snapped command, James stands
nodding to the one ear lent to Imogen's explanation ("Thank'.") and warning
.....this is about to get out of hand(leroy winston brown)
That huge Custom Chevy better known as the Rama Jama creeps along the roadside curb. Within deep almond eyes scan the parked cars. But the motorcycle steaming in the neighboring lot bore the ticket 'here we are'. "Ok Bell? Its like what? Freez'n balls out here and Marky Mark is pimping out on that?" The deep chuckle reverberated from his throat as he pointed a huge finger for her to follow. "No wonder he has alot of x's." That finger suddenly sizing the infinately tiny symbolence of a frozen pecker. "Just not sure which building..should I give the horn a hollar?" Glancing to his right at the weather wrapped Bell(tristan)
Brow arches, slightly, as everyone seems content to sit except for the person it was intended for. But then gaze slides over to meet Roxanne’ returning that wink. But he knows better then to get up and head that direction. In fact, he knows better after Decker’s barked comment, and the force of the two garou arguing enough that James is standing in ready – there’s not a chance in hell he’s moving away from his seat right here off to the side. A slight lift of his chin invites Roxanne over this way – hell she can sit on his lap if she wants - just to get out of the way, just in case.(decker)
The snarling tension drips away.The closing of the door behind Gwyneth snaps his attention (briefly) to James. "Git 'er back in here."
Then Decker raises his chin a notch, regarding Mark from the bottom of his eyes. It's a half-lidded gaze. The sort you look out to a heathazed Gulf with. One that bespeaks (belies) laziness, carelessness.
All the time in the world.
But the irises still burn beneath the unexpectedly long eyelashes. Grey is a color that should not be able to smoulder like that, spark and sear, but on him, with his rage, it does.
"Yeah, okay. I git it." Decker's never been one to scream or shout, and now he's barely audible. "'N when Ragnarok comes 'n ya face the Wyrm. Whatcha gonna do then, Glass Walker. Turn 'n run 'cause it ate bigger fuckin' Garou than yer sorry ass?"
Pause.
"Huh?"
(roxy)
There was a time to be a ballsy and a time to know your place. The tension in the room was becoming a bit thick, you could almost cut it with a plastic knife. Blue orbs shifting between her Walker and Fenrir. Somewhere she hovered in the vicinity of the bellowing Modi. A glance back over to Tristan and his chin up, affords her an excuse to move. Off her ass came from the makeshift chair, long legs carrying quickly out of the line of fire and over to Imogen and Tristan, and even James. At least she felt a little safer over here.(nelly bell crenshaw)
Inside the warmth of the van, she was finishing zipping the blood red fuzzy coat over her second skin clothed body. Blonde brows raised at the site of the crotch-rocket and she chuckled. Any man's iffel tower would shrivle up in this weather, but her mind flashed back on that glimpse of their Alpha in the park and silently she disagreed."Yeah, give it a hollar." leaning over to the side to collect her gloves and ski cap, "Whats this ex like anyhow?" deep southern accent trickling from naturally pinked lips as she straightened back up and began to slip the winter garments on.
(gwyn)
*Outside, she lights another cigarette. All right, she's polite and outgoing, but she couldn't expect suce rudeness in that damn place. Takes a deep breath and mutters* Jack ass...(james)
yes massa
that may explain the look shot at the Modi
his mood would have inspired saying it in another situation - but he won't push it now
James is already halfway between the slammed door and where he was
soon enough opening the poor, abused door on it's squealing hinges and heading outinto the cold
in just a freakin' tanktop and BDUs
jogging to catch up as his (slurred) words blast on foggy air"Hey Gwyn'th..."
(gwyn)
*Turns to look at James. Frowns sligthly* Yeah...*drags deeply while she tries to carry her heavy bag on her back*(mark)
The urban predator was a coiled spring begging for release. An end to the constant tension in an orgy of bloodshed and violence be the sort of thing that would leave him sated for days. He was always.. always.. a hair away.But somehow he usually found a way to control it. Usually..
"Careful," he warned with a nod, "Just because my tribe is smart doesn't mean your insults are gonna go long without a beating, southern boy," one eyebrow raised. hands relaxed. Stance shifted casually.
"No. This is how it works," his deep tone was less dangerous. Like he was teaching class, "When a plan doesn't work the first time, you come up with a different one. The Ghost pack wants a bane tender. An Uktena Theurge," he grimaced, as his arms crossed thoughtfully, "Word is he can contain it. The wyrm spirit that's fucking this place up."
A glance up, "You should know something. I grew up here, Fenrir. I ain't runnin. This is my home."
(imogen)
James stands, and Imogen does, too, though her action is not one of readiness, so much as habit, as someone gets abruptly taller than she. A hand presses against the seat that James had so recently vacated, a point of balance, her head turning to watch Gwyn leave. Frown, briefly, and move so James has easy departure, and then Roxanne has easy access as she comes over to join the other two.She looks away, and down, shutting the map book, the marker marking James's place.
(leroy)
And then there was a person; The brief release of interior light, the billowing of smoke on such a chilly night. From a girl no less. Girl, Mark's bike. 1 plus 1 equals 2; as LeRoy's hand rose to point at the lot infront of them. "Yep..I believe we have the right addy." Chuckling as his hand pressed hard upon the horn, bellowing 'Dixie Land' over two city blocks worth of noise. "Probably scare the be-jesus out of that girl there" Chuckling.."Oh..some blonde underhood doc. Didn't really chat her up. Usual sort though..cute..mouthy..nothing much to back it up." Laughing "But she's a bee" Rolling the van into the lot, high beams cutting off as he shuts the engine's purr off.(james)
"Deck'r wan's a talk wi' yeh."attention snaps to the side when the horn blares
..... Dixie Land?
the fuck is with Get and Southerners in this town?
the Ahroun turns and squares towards the rumbly van
but gestures the kinfolk back towards the warehouse doortotem phone rings
Deck, we've got more company(lexi)
Funny, as quickly as she had left, she had re-appeared. Now her cheeks bright red. The wind, mixed with having tipped back a few at a local dive bar nearby. She had just needed to tip a few back..snarl at a few pathetic men who wanted to try n get in her pants...and play a few games of pool. wasnt long..only a couple hours..if that, and now she had a buzz, a 12 pack and the backpack on her shoulder.
The blonde makes her way back up the street towards the wherehouse once more. Nice scent of cheap whiskey and beer mixed with stale smoke. Ahhh a good night after all.
Perhaps things had died down in the wherehouse. [not even close]
Thw ind slaps at her face...but now she doesnt seem to care much.
Eyes tear up slightly from the weather...she certainly wasnt crying. She looks up ahead....was that James and the chick from inside? Yup...well meant one thing, the door was unlocked.She passes them up with just a nod to James...wasnt even gonna touch that situation, anything that had James outside in a tanktop was a situation she didnt even wanna get close to...
Walking back in the door...She just glances around once more, as if she never left..doesnt realize theres an altercation going on..
and simply speaks.
"Brought more beer"
she sets down the 12 pack...
and finds that uncomfortable chair-thing she was sitting on earlier..although uncomfortable, she had grown attached to it.
Plus with the buzz...she really didnt care.(tristan)
James heads after Gwyn, and the Modi and the GeeDub were still talking (barking and posturing and arguing) with each other. Imogen is silent, and when Roxanne comes near he snags her around the waist and pulls her down to sit on a knee. He would steal her beer, but the wench left it over there out of reach. Instead he tugs on her dred, playful, before patting the jacket pocket that holds her smokes... his are over by the island and he’s not about to head that way. “bum one?”(gwyn)
*Arches a brow at James and breathes deeply. Pauses and ponders. Follows him and steps back inside the place again. Glances at Decker. Lets her bag on the ground and crosses arms, leaning against the wall*(nelly)
Following LeRoy's indication, one gal turning into a few more bodies, she secured the black toboggan over her head, "Seems to fancy blondes, huh?" Strange that an ex would hunt him down. Usually that meant trouble. They had enough trouble without skirts getting in the way.Dark blue eyes rolled with a sigh and she climbed out of the passenger side of the huge Rama Jama van, "So," walking around to the other side to meet with LB, "Whats up with ya new nookie, sugah?" teeth began to chatter already.
(decker)
A snort answers the Bane Tender comment. The only Theurge he trusted was a Theurge of his own tribe. And even then, barely.Fuckin spooks. Fuckin psychotic kooks.
But the impending storm seems to have passed without much damage. Decker chews the inside of his cheek thoughtfully a second, and then lifts his chin the barest degree. Some sort of acquiescence - maybe. Mark knows when to hold it in check. Decker's learning.
"You call yer moot, Mark." Quieter; not quite so steely. "Not on the full. Eagles'll be there. Touchin' base with the kiddies. Supportin' yer bid fer leadership 'cause Erik sure as hell ain't gonna lead. But on the full, we'll be at the fuckin' Caern. Givin' up gnosis."
Inhale - exhale.
"'N one more thing, Walker. You cross me again, you ain't gonna stand up fer a week."
(james)
it's fuckin' COLD
especially when compared to the warm bubble his trick envelopes the otherwise drafty warehouse in
there's a bit of relief when the kin acquiesces so quickly
he wastes no time coming back in from the freezing weathertail end of the Walker/Fenrir powwow caught
but James isn't moving more than a foot inside that door
not with the strange van outside
not with tempers' ebbing down from way. too. high.
(roxy)
Roxanne moves past Imogen, offering a nod. She heads over to Tristan, unexpectantly, pulled down to perch on his knee. Her head was turned to watch Decker and Mark, mostly. It cants at the tug, looking back at Tristan with a brief nod, paying little to no attention to his searching hand, that found her cigarettes and zippo. "Sure take one."(leroy)
The Full sized custom van actually seemed to sigh in relief the moment LeRoy's hulking mass slipped free. Standing easily at 7'2", weighing nearly 340+ it was easy to assume, Black Giant, and he was. Wearing that offending fake purple fur peacoat and crimson tide skull cap, he walked slow in stride. For every three of Nells he took one for himself keeping her at his side. Towards James and the door did they approach, but their candor despite the subtle hints of rage eschewing forth seemed familiar and pleasant. "Oh my sugah bee we'z talk'n bout now?" Grinning massively as those huge hands dipped into those coat pockets. Frigid breath obscuring both she and his appearance. "You know I don't talk bout my women girl." Giving James a full nod up at their approach. Rather a nod down instead. "Even'n"(lexi)
So you...thought you..might like to come to the show
Oooohh look what she had walked into...now watching this actually brought a smirk to her lips...Obviously whoever this dude was, didnt know who he was messin with...
Finally...entertainment
Pulling the whiskey bottle back out, now mostly gone...she leans back on the chair thing and watches...She would be at the moot if she could be..shit she would have made a better garou then some of the ones she had met in this city...but she wasnt lucky enough.
Lexi was drunk.
If that wasnt rare, not drinking..that was common, but drunk That was rare...
She watches Decker as he seems to have control over the situation..Then her glance moves to James and the -other girl- who came back in with him. Glance then shifting to Imogen and company...
and then back to Decker and guy...
burrrrrp
whoops that one just slipped out...and a good one it was.
She pulls out a pack of fresh smokes she had lifted from some drunk pool opponant earlier and pulls out one, lighting it with one of the last of the Jersey matches. She watches the show..
(tristan)
He grins his thanks, hand dipping into her pocket to liberate the pack and lighter. Seems like they’ve known each other a lot longer then just 24 hours, don’t it? Odd that. But nice all the same. He shakes a cigarette from the pack, tucks it back into her pocket, lights it with the zippo before tucking it away again too, hand curled around her hip, as he is even nice enough to exhale up out of the way of both her and Imogen. If he’s surprised at the modi’s calm, he doesn’t show it. Perhaps it’s impressive, perhaps not, but either way, he doesn’t doubt at all that Mark will be in deep shit if he crosses him again.Gwyn comes back in, as does Lexi, and this time the get kin is given a warm smile of welcome, as well as thanks for the beer. Even though the mood is thick, heavy, expectant violent... and thus his greeting is silent.
(gwyn)
*Standing there, she waits patiently. Not that she's a patient woman, but then she's curious to know what the hell Decker wants to say. Sighs and watches them*
*A glance and a soft smile to LeRoy* Evening...(nelly)
Newly painted chapped sticked lips raised in a smirk, "Raight.." shaking her head with a chuckle as she walked beside her huge brother. Even her long legged form seemed deminished beside him, but she seemed soothed and comfortable all the same as they walked to the warehouse where they suspected their head man to be in. Those bedroom blues turned to the first face they happened upon and gave a slow gin smile, "Hey sugah..."(james)
the Ahroun tips his chin in a nod up
and.... up it is
allowing something of a smile to wander across his face"Evenin'" dark eyes draw up and down the far darker man "You..... 'ave gotta be LeRoy."
their Rage is subtle - his is not
that moon's growing in the sky
and that inner fire of his grows concurrently
though at least he's not as explosive as the full-moon's inside
there's something delightfully countering it
if.... barely.... regardless his smile is nice and easy
even if he's not letting them into the warehouse just yet
turning to the bedroom blue eyes shining up from the shorter woman"Though 'aven't heard any ruma's spread 'bout you...."
(mark)
A chill went up his spine, as someone else declared that he needed to be leader. His stance shifted, not out of violence this time, but out of the inexorible, unwanted, addition of extra burden on his shoulders. Like fuckin' Atlas.Electric blues glinted with the long look at the other predator. A slight line of tension went across his lips as his brow turned thoughtful. A blast of a snort from his nostrils, before an absent wipe.
"Fine," he rumbled, "The Eagles won't be alone on the full," he declared and folded his arms. He thought it was stupid, but it was obvious that his pack would need to back the only other war party in the town.
And then the threat. Tit for tat of course. A slow smirk overlaid his handsome features, "Always open to challenge, Decker."
It was then that he heard the last strains of the horn. Gaze slips to the door with the shifting of his eyes, followed by the turning of his head. Yup, there it was. That empathic bond.
(roxy)
"Fuck me..." a sigh rushes from full lips that part slightly. She keeps her perch on Tristan's lap. Glancing between him and the rest of the crowd. Her eyes watching her kinsman, waiting for any kind of recognition from Mark that he still remembers her existance in the warehouse and wanted to go off to have that talk.(nelly)
LB was hard to miss and easier to describe physically. If this guy heard of him, he must be on the in and in. The rage from him was felt, though she seemed to return only a scent of old earth and early dew. A blonde brow lifted with a grin, "Really?" like a warm southern breeze her accent flowed, "Ah don know if ah should be glad or offended," snickering softly as thick lashes fluttered gently, "Ahm Nelly Bell Crenshaw," Offering the man a hand with curiosity brazing her her gaze as it floated over him from foot to head, "Nice t' meet ya..." trailing off in hopes of a name.
(decker)
Nothing else to say to Mark, Decker just holds the gaze a moment before turning away, finally, to the new Fianna.It doesn't take him too long to cross the distance. The warehouse is large, but he's well accustommed to covering long distances on foot, in the city. Steelshod boots, uncomfortable as all hell, clunk across concrete. He stops a few feet from her - more than enough privacy space - and still the rage under his skin is palpable.
He looks her up and down. Doesn't even bother ascertaining the tribe. Fianna were sticklers for blood and family. They'd never let that much pure breeding get away.
Correction: almost never.
"Ain't actually seen any o' yer Garou in town," Decker says without preamble, "but there's 'least one kin. Tristan there," jerk of his thumb at the prettyboy with the blonde on his lap (most unusual), "got 'is contact info if ya want it."
(leroy)
Its thoroughly amazing to present how well the Gaian sheaths his own Full Moon temperment. Released? There would be devistating delieverance. "You should kno by now boo, don't believe everything you hear" A thunderous chuckle reverberated from deep within. Good natured though eminated from he unlike many an Ahroun. Falling silent however when the questioning turned upon his jibblet beside him.With her name given, hint of request from James levied, his own hand slipped free from his pocket nearly the same size as a cast iron skillet and extended towards him. "Im LeRoy..Our boy Marky Mark must be inside huh?"
(mark)
He'd said his say, and most likely worn out his welcome in the Eagle's Nest. Sinewy arms fold beneath the shelf of his well-proportioned chest as he considers what he now knows to be his Full and Gibbous moon 'mates outside.'mmm,' that non-commital deep rumble, again.
Head shifts to Roxanne. Yes. Aware of her at all times. She was the first on his protection list once the claws began to fly with wrecking ball force. Not that he was overly sweet on her or anything, but she was Kin, and hell.. they had .. history.. yeah, that's the ticket.
"Roxi?" The word made a question and not a statement, by the barest of subtle differences in in flexion, "Let's go catch up, gal," one hand gave a slight waving gesture.
(gwyn)
*Stares at Decker for a moment. Pauses and ponders. Watches out her mouth. Glances at Tristan and smiles... maybe relieved. Turns her eyes back to Decker* Thank you...by the way, I am Gwyneth and I don't remember I told you from where I came and which tribe I belong to. I'm Gwyneth... kin fron the Fianna and I have no family if it matters, of course.(imogen)
She has, at some point, sat down on the uncomfortable chair that James had vacated, picking up the map book to flip through it vaguely, reviewing what she'd marked off, before setting it aside.Lexi got a long regard. Drunk off her ass. Christ.
She's not one for speech, it would seem, though she was one for paying attention, her elbow leaning on her knee as she glances toward Gwyneth, the slender woman regarding the Fianna steadily, her hand brushing back strands of hair from her face, before her gaze flicks away from her former tribesmate, finding something else of interest in the far too busy warehouse.
(roxy)
Small sweep of a calloused hand flits up to brush aside two thinly twisted cords of peroxide dreads from her eyes. She pivots her body, just a little to the left, an arm stealing itself across Tristan's back. Fingers sliding down his spine and up again. Some of her weight pressed into his side, careful not to set off any painful muscles. "I gotta go for now, baby." She leans forward to place a kiss on Tristan's brow.Her head snaps back over to Mark, motions a wave of her hand. "Be there in a minute."
(james)
"James Branson."slowed down to make sure the entire word makes it past the accent and slur
reaching to clasp the rather large pa...er... hand extended"B'lieve it 'r not.... nice a know they ain't 'xaggeratin' on the picture." tossed to LeRoy on a street performer's charm "Mark's insi'.... havin' a word with m' boy Deck'r. C'n see if their powwow's ova if y' don' min' waitin'."
yeh, the warehouse is WAY too crowded
easily enough delivered towards the two apparent packmates
it's not that James has the inclination to be rude and not invite them in
but meetings are meetings, they should understand(tristan)
He’s still watching, silent, until Decker points him out and he nods with a grin for Gwyn – he’s got Madocs number alright. That boy owes him a beer or six still. Then Mark gestures for Roxy and his hand slides over her hip and falls so she can get up if she wants too. “I’ll call ya tomorrow.”She turns and slides her arm around him and his brows lift, and he can’t help but chuckle. “Wicked woman.” Murmured. Unusual, yes, perhaps – but they’ve grand plans to accomplish after all. “Owe ya dinner.” Grinned, and then teased “and a backrub.” His voice low, knowing full well Decker (and others) would – and are going too with this good bye - raise some brows. Hell, James has been teasing him most the night before the party got good and truly started. He arm slides around her and squeezes her close. The last whispered over her ear “if ya need a place to crash, or to just talk after, come get me.- now get before he gets all impatient and shit.” Winked as he lets his arm slide away again.
(mark)
His snort was a combination of impatience and mirth, "For fuck's sake, you had all evening to play kissy-face," he shot back, "C'mon, I'm hungry," he grimaced with the impatience Tristan was warning her about.(lexi)
Imogen....she sees the firey redhead watching her...
a look back to her..and a smirk...{yes a smirk from Lexi}as she tips the whiskey bottle towards her in a Hello gesture...
Drunk off her ass? Yup...sure was, but also entertaining herself, staying out of trouble, and shit...she brought more beer.
She holds back another belch, she wasnt gonna test the waters...The thing poking in her ass on the chair-thing was getting more and more uncomfortable...and she gets up from it and looks around for something a little more her style...
chewing absently at her cheek...she cant quite find something acceptable..so she takes a few staggered steps and pushes the burlap backpack up against the uncomfortable chair thing, then sitting her ass on the cold ground...no worries, she leans up against the large backpack...
There we go...perfect.
She just watches...quietly..which is probably good for her right now. Who knows what could pass her lips if she actually spoke.
(leroy)
"Oh your the Gib that Andy told me about. Pleasure to meet ya. Glad to kno more of ya's are out n bouts than jus the one brother." The hand dismissing any notion of angst for the wait. "You're with the Fenrir fella arentcha?"(decker)
"It don't matter." What'd you expect he'd say? Turned away already, these are words he tosses over his shoulder. "Decker." His name, one supposes. "'N I know yer tribe. It shows."It always shows.
And it's always Imogen he looks at eventually. It's never Imogen he talks to in semipublic places like this, but it's always her he keeps on looking at. A passing look now. A lingering gaze later. A stare from across the room or a flickering glance, momentary but perceptive, passing on like light over water.
Whatever.
A pitstop by Lexi, a beer snagged up, the whiskey taken away and capped. "Think ya had enough," he mutters. She was his Alpha's girl. Or friend. Whichever. He'll watch out for her 'cause he knows Erik'll do the same for his woman.
Decker tosses the whiskey back down and, on second thought, snags a second beer, which he holds out bottom-first to Imogen when [not if.] he gets there.
A pause to uncap his beer. A pause to look at her. Then, low, taking a sip, "'S go fer a ride."
(gwyn)
*Sighs at his rudeness and turns to make her way*(nelly)
Her head turned to glance up at LB and back down at James. She replaced her gloved hand into the warmth of the coat pockets, the smile waning in its edges just a hair, "Ya a BeeGee? Thank god..." softly the words were given as her grin returned full bloom.(tristan0
He just laughs and shakes his head, rolling his eyes with good natured, long-suffering fun as his curls are ruffled like that before she walks away. He glances up at Gwyn as she sighs. “You want that number Gwyn? I’ll dig it up for you....” tossed her way before she makes it to the door.(james)
a brow lifts at the mention of Andy
he doesn't remember meeting an Andy
but, with all the faces that have whirwinded through in the past few days, there may very well be an Andy
so he just goes with the fact he's been introduced by.... Andy
if anything, Gnawers can adapt"Yeh, sole BeeGee 'mongst the Germ'ns round this part.... full face, secon' level, all that jazz."
one would wonder if they're even speaking English anymore
but somehow, they understand each other
the Ahroun turns inside - catching Mark and Roxy on exit"Yer digs outsi'e..."
but with them heading out, he just keeps heading in
it's COLD out there(gwyn)
*Turns and smiles at Tristan* Number?!(lexi)
He was probably right...she had had enough...a scowl from her lips and the rolling of eyes - only when Decker had already turned away - but she doesnt argue. Erik defintely wouldnt be happy that she had crossed the line from buzzed, to wasted..but hell
shit happens.
She wasnt about to argue with Decker...plus she had already forgotton about the whiskey bottle..and now was watching the room through half mast eyes.
safe
She knew she could let down the guard and crash if need be...and she ceetainly wasnt goin anywhere right now.
She watches the Fianna kin get all huffy and she cant help but smirk once more...Decker was Decker..gotta just accept him for what he was...and it made things easier.
In fact, the less he said to ya the more he tended to like ya...took her almost a year to get that...but she finally got it.She puts out the smoke...before passing out...which she wasnt far off from.
At least it was warmer in here then outside...although her and Eriks crappy hotel room had a TV...but that was so far off considering her condition.
Eyes half mast...She should thank Decker for takin the bottle...but she just leans against the burlap backpack, pulling off her camo coat and pulling it over her like a blanket.
There we go..all comfylike.
(roxy)
Her car was parked right outside the warehouse. The '69 Chevy Nova was going to be staying over night it seems, plus it gave Roxanne an excuse to come back. She smirks up at Mark, zipping up her jacket. "Yea, I did." husky purr rolling off her tongue, moving behind Mark to use as a shield against the blast of frigid air.(tristan)
Hoboy. Not listening to Decker is a mistake few people survive making twice. But he nods, and stands, stretching, a slow inhale of stolen smoke before he heads toward his violin case, popping it open to grab a small notepad with information on it. “For you’re tribe-mate Decker mentioned. Fianna Kin.” He digs up a pen and copies the information over to a clean piece before closeing everything back into his case, and moving to Gwyn’s side. “His name’s Madoc. You can reach him at this number.”(imogen)
The blood of tribes bite deep and are not likely to be washed away by the change of a country (Ireland to America. England to America) and Gwyneth's tribe shows clearly, even to her pure-breed numbed eyes, unable to sense such things. She knew what tribe the woman would be, the minute she knew for sure she was kin. The minute she heard her speak.Tribal bonds are not here what they are in the old world. She briefly watches as Gwyneth turns to walk away, before her attention turns to the Fenrir as he approaches, reaching out to take the offered bottle as the distance closes, hand closing over the cloudy bottle, the glass cold against her palm.
Decker doesn't really give her an option or question, but she treats it as such with her agreement, "Yeah, alright," standing, leaving her own bottle closed. Legalities, and all that. Open bottles in motor vehicles.
(leroy)
The visage of Mark...the silhoutte of she who followed. He only smirked. Silent there seemed to be an unspoken word between he and Nelly beside him the same moment they turned. No word given in reproach to any. Just the hum of the van leaving the lot in the distance. [adios](nelly)
She shifted her footing, arms hugging closer to her body to fight off the cold from seeping in. In a span of moments and moving bodies, there seemed to be enough silent languaged passed around that stories were beginning a new thread in her mind. So with a small smirk and a stiffiled chuckle, she wandered back to the van beside her big brother and welcomed the warmth within.(gwyn)
*Takes the piece of paper and reads it* Thank you Tristan... *smiles warmly* I know I look absent-minded and in fact I am... *shrugs slightly* I'll give him a call as soon as I find a place to sleep...(tristan)
“No offence, ma’am, but being absentminded among this crew is a surefire way to get your ass hurt. If you like I can give him a call right now and have him meet you somewhere, maybe find you a place to crash so you don’t freeze on the street. Otherwise, i’ve spot the cab and a night at a hotel if you can’t afford it. S’up to you..”(lexi)
and
she
is
out.......(gwyn)
*smiles at Tristan* I don't know... but thanks for the advice...*Sighs* You think we should call him?(madoc alan cromwell)
The low hum of the rusted red pickup made its way down the riverfront, heading towards a family little patch of warehouses. The sight of the vehicles leaving drew the Scotsman's curiosity. He found a parking spot, pulling up to the bay doors and cuts the engine, sliding out of the truck.(james)
the Ahroun makes it back inside
some sailor lost at sea and swimming desperately towards the island of domesticity
which, thankfully, is far less populated than it has been throughout the nightthe fuck was up with that?
this was supposed to be THEIR warehouse and territory
and suddenly everyone and their long lost cousin is showing up at their door
if it keeps up, he's half a mind to use the cash he's got left from Erik's roll to find another place
just so the pack proper can have some peace and quiet
criminyit's making his head spin
and fingers reach up to rub at the bridge of his nose
the other hand going to untie the tangle of dreads from their work-restrained ponytail
deep umber eyes falling to half-mast on the transit past those that are left to his own bedroll"Place'n Elm's got pos' hol'day discount." offered to Tristan on pass-by, and since the kin is occupied and recovering from injuries, he risks gathering the passed-out should-be Garou blond bombshell named Lexi and any instinctive reactions she may have and moves her to the mattress furthest from the others..... whatever else he was going to say post-tucking in replaced with the ".... fuck me...." at yet ANOTHER car cutting outside
(tristan)
after two days in Roxanne’s self-assured company, he’s a little slow in dealing with the un-decisive kin. He runs his fingers through his curls and chuckles. “I think you’d be a fool not too. He’s family first and foremost and would know if any more of your tribe have shown up here in town better then we would. We’re all Get and Gnawers here, with a touch of GeeDubs thrown in for flavor. Just because I haven’t heard of any yet doesn’t mean there aren’t any – and Madoc would know. At the very least, a place to stay is needed unless you’re of a mind to freeze your ass off on the streets tonight. It’s fucking cold out there, Gwyn. Gotta use your head.”He turns and nods to James, chuckling as he puts Lexi to bed, shaking his head. Where the hell had all these people just.... come from? And yet another car, though it sounds familiar... and... “though I don’t think you’ll have to call. Seem’s he’s here.”
(gwyn)
*Listens to Tristan. Hell, she's not that stupid and she knows how to take care of herself. She grew up with a crazy uncle. A veteran from Second WOrld War. Deffinately, she knows how to survive. Says nothings and turns her eyes to the door. Well, finally... if a tribemate's there it seems things are getting better.* Madoc? Great... finally...*She sighs*(madoc)
Sable-brown hair, which normally swept across his jawline, was gathered back into a small ponytail. His ears were burning red, as someone was thinking of him. Bomber jacket half-zipped up, cargo style jeans slung over long legs. Baby-blue eyes peer over at the closed door. He raises a hand to wrap on it a few times.(james)
he makes sure Lexi is covered by a blanket
her jacket and pack moved nearby
a bottle of asprin's dug out from the pack's medkit
and placed safely on top so that it's the first thing she sees"Yeh go' that, Tris?"
tossed haphazardly to the kinsman
the Fianna lass is in his hands for now
James? It settling down to study the map that Imogen worked out((and you can assume he's pretty wrapped up in that for the rest of the night until passing out, I gotta git, thanks for the play gang))
Posted by james at December 02, 2003 12:12 AM