September 07, 2002
.09.07.02. - scene one, take one [playtest]

[pine barrens, new jersey]

(james)
when the car pulls to the side of the road, out steps a character direct from a derelict carnival - the all inclusive package being extricated from the back seat seems to be accessorized with what resembles a tophat with more patches than original fabric, a longcoat that's tucked into the straps of a well-beated (and bargained for!) Alice pack (sans-frame) and one man - hovering around six foot, brown eyes and light brown hair that's twined itself into dredlocks

another thing he wears is an amazing easy smile, especially at being dropped off at the intersection of a block of trees, and two highways - one that doesn't particularly lead where he wants it to

"Thanks for the ride."

a final pat on the steel horse's flank, a fond wave, and acceleration leaves said man standing alone on the side of the road, the lack of late-night traffic and the sign reading Atlantic City, X mi brings a sigh to those still smiling lips, well, a bit of a nibble

"Too far to walk tonight, Jameyboy, better luck catchin' a ride come mornin'...."

right-o.

now..... what will these trees bring us..... better a shelter and nice bed of pine needles than actually sleeping on the asphalt - he's done quite enough of that

(orion nightwalker)
He nods quietly. "Yeah it;s the best time to do so."

(douglas ashthorn)
"...well, you bloody slag, you've gotten us lost again." This voice, decidedly griping, comes from yonder and dale, or however the old saying goes. Semi-old. Whatever. The point is, Douglas leans against a tree, scraping dead leaves and god-knows-what-other detritus from the bottom of his shoe. "Oh mighty Sappho, great and awful bottom-kicker of the Black Furies who doesn't need a map, oh no; who can find Garou from fifty kilos away if need be; who was oh so certain there would be cousins here. We've been walking around in circles for three hours, and you've yet to see so much as a glyph, much less hide nor hair of another. I say we stop right now and raise a howl. See what pops out of the woodwork then."

(sappho)
this one, she's easy to goad into a display of temper, and her lips curve downward sullenly. "If don't you fucking mouth watch you'll be meeting your dreams right-quick!" she explodes, rounding on Douglas in an empty posture of threat--she's a little put out, too, after she stepped in the fifth hole of sludge.


(starling morningmist)
"I'm not so sure about that. I don't see so well in the dark. I'm likely to make more noise than anything else."

(orion)
He smiles. "Come with me, I can watch out for you."

(starling)
"What about my gun? I have a flashlight too up there." Jabbing a thumb back and up at the tree fort.

(orion)
He shakes his head. 'A flashlight is a crutch...and a hinderance when hunting. just follow my steps...I'll go slow....Luna will guide us."
(starling)
Frowns a little uncertain while rising. "And I'm suppose to what, chew it's legs off in the dark and hope since I can't see I'm actually chewing on a leg and not something else?" Brushing her rear end off and looking around for her shoes.
(douglas)
"Temper, temper," chides the snide, lean man with the poet's moody mouth and very little else poetic about him. Thin as a rail, of average height, he is clever enough to take a step sideways in case Sappho decided to release her frustration on his head. "Just because the bloke at the pub called you a Xena with a British accent doesn't mean you need to use that tone of voice with me, young lady." Peering into darkness, he nudges his elegant, silver(color)-rimmed glasses up his nose a notch. "Hold up, now, I thought I heard something."

(orion)
He smiles and hands her his Ka-bar. "Throw it.,,or bring your rifle...either way...just not the flashlight."

(sappho)
"Grunt.(Growl.)"

Sappho's most attractive feature is her eyes: great, large, dark and insightful eyes. They're also her least attractive feature: often clouded by a scowl or a flicker of (rage) anger. Or, and most often, this, made cutting by annoyance: see also when The Brit is around.

They also swing around, itchingly alert, while she slouches further downward. Fingers coil and uncoil into a fist--before she explodes with a short, angry sigh. "You're such a bloody cautious git, Ashthorn."

Cupping her hands around her mouth, she (ear-splittingly) shouts, "HALLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO."


(james)
four score and twenty steps or three within the line of trees - ever get the feeling something's watching you, Scooby Doo? - the man not quite dressed for this non-concrete jungle pulls up to a halt near some nice large boulders

"You'll do nicely."

actually patting the top of the granite lumps before settling the pack to the ground and withdrawing two long shanks of rebar, each end wrapped in cloth - poorman's drumsticks, if you will - and crouches before the stones before delivering a gunning that echoes off the trees in a delightfully tribal rhythm, waiting in silence while the metal on stone strikes wade across the treetops

never hurts to knock and see if anybody's home


(starling)
Jumping slightly with the sound bouncing through the dark. Not sure where it came from. "That's no owl."

(orion)
turning his head towards the sound, he stands slowly and hands her the .308. "Stay here..." with that, he slips offd into the darkness, Warhammer in his hand as he moves towards the sound.

(starling)
Big ole knife in one hand. A gun in the other as he leaves her standing there. Muttering. "Awcrap, what now Batman?"

(sappho)
(...and as the distant drum of a tribal beat explodes across the Barrens, practically in par with her banshee's scream...) Sappho contrives to look modestly smug, smirking at her companion in a, see, that's how you get things done, sorta way.

And Xena yell comments WILL be prosecuted.

(orion)
comingf closer to the pair in ghost like silence, he watches the pair, slipping a tomahawk like hatchet from his belt, he waits for a long moment.

(starling)
Yelling and drumming. Tonight wasn't giong to be as quiet as most had been lately. Wondering if the gun's safety was on and how to work it as she fiddles with it in the dim light of the small fire.

(douglas)
"Yes well," twirling a pinky in one ear, then the other, "if that was a damned Black Spiral Dancer, we'd be dead now, thank you. Anyhow, I thought it went ay-yi-yi-yi or some such thing..."

Trailing off, he automatically moves to her off-hand side, lips moving soundlessly as he gathers his spirit friends closer to him. As Orion appears, his lips stop moving silently and begin moving loudly enough to spit out a few cutting phrases.

"Oh, how precious. The Amazon and the Brave. I suppose you aren't a Dancer, since you're just gawking like a common pleb, and I suppose you aren't a common pleb after all, because common plebs have better sense than to carry around a bloody damn tomahawk."

He goes back to his silent murmuring.

(james)
now if that isn't a quick answer - even if it wasn't actually to his rhythms he'll damn sure make use of it - see what you get when adhering to hospitality's rules?

up onto the rocks jumps the caped crusa..... erm.... the Ahroun, peering around and listening to see if any more noises come creep creeping out of the darkness

voices?


(orion)
And then the tomahawk is buried in the tree next to douglas' ear close enough to almost shave the hairs off, he speaks softly. "Were I a spiral you'd not have had time to get that sentence out. But i WOULD like to know who you are."

(sappho)
Sappho flashes Douglas a single (coilingly) vicious glance. Her glances are eloquent when she is not. This one is insulted, as well, and says: maybe YOU would be dead. I, however...

...but all glances are to turn to Orion (the hunter) momentarily, and so they do. Dark, faintly narrowed--and suspicious. Was it REALLY that easy?...

"This asshole is Ashthorn 'Proud of Prick.' I'm Sappho."

(douglas)
"Ooo, big strong man. Save me, Sappho, he's going to make me his own personal poofter. Or at least spit out some semi-courteous words. I'm even worse at this introductions thing than you are."

Even as he speaks, he slides surreptitiously behind the Ahroun Fury. That's what big strong ones were for, after all.

Then, frowning, "Douglas Ashthorn Speaks-with-Dreams, actually."

(orion)
He nods quietly as he Looks at the Fury. "Kin or Chosen?"

(sappho)
The Fury ignores her packmate. "Chosen. You're the one we've been looking for?" Measuring. Not in her abrasive, overtly hostile manner; but rather intelligently. (How much like a dominant does this one seem?)

(douglas)
"I wouldn't mistake her for your shag-toy," says Douglas from behind Sappho, removing his glasses to clean them, "she might get narked and twist you into a sailor's knot. Right hard, she is."

(james)
yep, voices - how delightful

and the sticks get shoved back into the pack and the pack hoisted up onto his shoulders and we're off, over the river and through the woods and towards the voice's house we go...

cautiously, mind you, and listening quite intently

(sappho)
Grind.

Her teeth.

(orion)
Looking at the pair, he speaks softly. "I am Roion Nightwalker. Fostern ahroun of the silent Striders. and I'll tell you once...be wary the spirals have beenseen around here more than once lately."

(douglas)
Slipping his glasses back on, he seems to decide it's safe enough to slide back beside Sappho. "Spirals. I knew it. Didn't I tell you, Sappho? Run your gob like that a bit more and we'll be paste on the ground, see if we won't."

Inhaling, he closes his eyes for a moment, opens them. "Mr. Squirrel-spirit tells me someone else is hiding in the trees. Two, actually. Go on, Sappho, shout some more. Maybe they'll come running out to bury hatchets in our throat."


(james)
lips purse sending out a little feeler to the whistled tune of Ghetto Woman


(sappho)
At the mention of Spirals, here, in what passes for semi-wilderness, her gaze sparks. Whether with more anger or delight isn't so clear.

"Here, but not dea--do you ever shut your ruddy mouth for one second?"

But Sappho is turning, sulkily, towards at least one of the hidden watchers, tensely.

Wouldn't be the first time a smoothetalkin' silvertongued spiral tried to put one over on them, talkin' all nice, all pretty, all Gaian, while lo and behold their vicious, scabrous pack surrounds 'em...

Or maybe it would.
Who knows?

(douglas)
"Only when you use that delectable tone with me, dear Sappho," he replies, but quieter. Then the volume goes back up to his usual, "And, for your information, O Hidden Ones, whistling pop tunes is unlikely to make Sappho here any less edgy. Now Mr. Squirrel tells me you're all right, no ugly Banes circling your heads, so you might as well show yourselves."

(james)

"Pop tunes?"

aghast, such a mortal wound to call such a thing.. a.... pop.... tune, and the dredlocked boyman rounds the last tree

"Now, as someone who clearly has no musical history under their belts, I'd be worrying ya'self about the plurality of voices in ya head.... far as I can see there's only one of me. Mr. Squirrel been having a bit much ta drink? Pop tunes....."

that head just shakes in mock disgust, education is so important

(sappho)
Hmph. No fight, no need to talk; let Mr. Bloody Assthorn do it himself, he's that adept. Sappho bends down to pluck a burr from her sock, slide into an impatient crouch. (Not very virtuous, Sappho.)

"...lawd, now there's two of 'em 'Mr Squirrelin' now..."

(starling)
She was still standing near the small, dying fire with a gun in one hand and the knife in the other. Still wondering if she shouldn't make for the tree fort and to heck with playing Sheena of the Jungle.

(douglas)
(back) Douglas fixes James with a trademark freezing smile. Watch and learn, young Padwan. "Trust me, Mr. Squirrel does not drink. There's another one out there all right. A bit of a dishy bird too, if Mr. Squirrel's telling the truth. He don't always do that, you know."

(james)
shiverin' in his second-hand boots, he is, a brow lifting a bit, glancing a bit towards where Douglas seems to be - but by no means turning his back on either of them

"Oh really now..... so since ya little friend told you I didn't have any nasties in my hat..... what would, hypothetically, my little friend tell me about what's circling your heads? Not to mention the dishy bird off yonder......"

two, maybe three, against one..... not the best odds, should fit shanning start

(starling)
Here she was standing here holding someone else's weapons, in the dark while he went who knew where. Sure she was hearing something out there. And every moment thinking she should hightail it up the tree.

(douglas)
"You don't have a little friend," replies Douglas, unbearably condescending. "I do swear, these musclebound braindead wallies will be the end of me one day."

Likely because they'll beat him to a pulp...

"I'm a Theurge, you dumb git," he continues without missing a beat, "and I'm talking to my little spirit friend, which you do not have, or my little spirit friend would have spoken to your little spirit friend already. Now, as for the dishy bird, walk that way," pointing straight in Starling's direction, "and I daresay you'll find out for yourself. If she doesn't run away from your musclebound blockheadedness first, that is."

(starling)
That was it. She had stood out here like a target for too long now. Tucking the gun and knife in her shorts and heading for the tree to reach up for the hand holds there. Then pulling herself up to scramble up into the tree fort.

(douglas)
"...well," calls Douglas (who, indeed, never did shut up) from behind James, in case James was actually going to track Starling down, "now she's climbing in a tree like a frightened koala, and Mr. Squirrel is rather impressed by her ability. You might want to look up now."


(james)
"I said hypothetically, I never said I did Mr. Condescending. Should I use smaller words next time to be clear?"

still, that easy smile..... the Theurge may not be a problem, but the crouching-tiger over there may be..... dishy bird it is

"And I'd honestly expect a Theurge to come up with more earth shattering and soul rending insults than dumb git. Having a bad day are we? Is he always this PMS'd?"

the last directed at the crouching-dragon, with a grin, but onwards towards the dishy.... er... treed bird it is

"'Lo? I will not eat you..... though I take no responsibility for whatever Simon happens to say back there..... helloooooo?"


(douglas)
"Try the Xena-yell!" shouts Douglas from a good ways back.


(starling)
Lining the knife and gun up near the opening to the tree fort. Then scambling back to find her shotgun. That weapon she had fired before and it had kicked the snot out of her shoulder, but it made an impressive noise too. Looking like she was getting ready for battle.

(douglas)
"Uups, might want to be careful!" Douglas, he was smart. He wasn't going to go climbing after the frightened koala waiting to get his face kicked off. "Mr. Squirrel says the bird's picking up a gun now!"


(james)
company halts just before the dying fire, a brow lifting while tongue clucks something referring to admonission against the roof of his mouth

"You know....... it's not really a good idea not to douse your fire while you climb up into a tree..... the Rangers would be appalled"

finally glancing up to the tree where she smells to be coming from

"I won't eat you, I don't have nasties circling my head, and I'm a far cry nicer than Simon back there...... you can come down now."


(sappho)
"You wanker," Sappho slices in. Belatedly, but no longer able to stew in silence any longer. "More likely she," and the short, wiry fury takes Asthorn's statements as canon, "managed to catch an earful of your utter shite and decided there were better things to listen to. I.E., ruddy president bush!"

"And, you!" Working herself into a dark, snarl of a temper again: averted by a sudden, flashing grin and a light-on-a-razor laugh. "He's got your measure, Mr. Condescending."

And, all casual, Sappho punches Douglas in the arm... rising to her feet, once more, and brushing at her jeans.

Surly, again, as quick as the grin fades.

(starlign)
The muzzle of the shotgun sliding down through the opening of the tree fort as she kneels at the hole. "I can see the fire and it's contained. Who are you and who is Simon and what do you want? I don't know what you mean by nasties unless you mean breath, but you try and come up here without an invite and I'll shoot first and run later."
(douglas)
"Oh, do hush up, Sappho," he says, rather good-naturedly for once, "this is just getting good, it is. Watch now, while the dredlocked goliath dances around trying to sound reassuring, the bird is going to shit on his head. Ha! I wonder if how big the caliber on the gun is. Hope I don't have to heal the bloke if he gets half his fool head blown off."

(sappho)
"Might be an improvement," our wise girl says, unknowing.


(james)
hooks a thumb back over his shoulder, fairly unconcerned about the shotgun pointed at him

"Simon is Mr. Condescending PMS back there who keeps talking to his...... " whispers "little friend" he can't help the chuckle "And I'm not sure who his companion is but I'd be more worried about her than his rapier wit. And me?"

the what was once a top hat comes off in a sweeping bow

"Name's James Branson, and I, personally, am just looking for a quiet place to stay the night but the braying jackass back there makes me think I have to move further into the woods to find any peace. Who're you?"


(douglas)
"I thought so too, but now I'm going to have to change my mind. Dear God, can't have Sappho agreeing with me for once; hell will freeze over, and then where will all the sinners go? Not my backyard, that's where."

Another silence as he closes his eyes and moves his lips - the only time he has any shred of Theurgishness about him. Opening his eyes again, he continues as though he'd never had his little quiet time, "Still, I must admit, you were right after all for once, about these woods. I'm beyond surprised. Bloody gobsmacked, I am."

(starling)
Frowning while watching him and listening. Not sure what the heck he was talking about half the time. "Where's Orion?" Countering his question with one of her own.

(douglas)"Gone to shit out another tomahawk, that's where," mutters Douglas under his breath, which likely makes no sense to his companion.


(james)
few fries short of a happy meal, or a few days short of a Ragabash - you be the judge - but there's little more than a shrug

"Orion? I dunno Lady..... you may wanna ask Simon and Paula back there. Look, how about this. You stay holed up there, and safe, while I make use of this campfire and warm up some digs.... you don't even have to put the gun away. Once I've got some food in my belly, I'll be on my way but hate to waste a good fire..... I've even got a few Snickers bars I can leave in thanks. Sound fair enough?"

(starling)
Hesitating a moment before finally pulling the muzzle of the shotgun back up. "Ok, but no funny stuff."

(sappho)
Her lip curls into a disdainful, yet soundless snarl--mirrored in those damned black-eyes of hers. "You call this woods?" Then, "You blo--I'll smack your gob, you little irish setter! What do you mean 'for once, you were right'?" Ah, but only the usual ammount of scorpion-sting taints her tone.

(james)
"Fantastic!"

that grin only widens, settling to pluck a can out from the pack and make himself comfortable by the fire

"No funny stuff, I promise..... and a Hood's promise is gold. You gotta name..... or do I just keep calling you Lady-In-Tree-With-Gun?"

(douglas)
"Irish setter?! Why, if you weren't my packmate," and if she couldn't mop the floor with him and then run him through a wringer, "I'll show you who's a ruddy Irish Setter, you two-bit cow."

There's a bit more general muttering. Then, turning, he yanks the tomahawk out of the tree and hands it to her. "Here," he says, "you can toss that back to the Brave when he comes hurl another axe at my head. Preferably, toss it back between his eyes. I'm going to see if the dredlocked goliath has managed to coax the bird out of the tree yet."

(starling)
"Hoods?" Not sure what he was talking about. "I'm Starling." Looking down through the dark opening at him. Squinting in the dark.

(sappho)
"That's right, n' scare her right back up, you fat-lobbed nog!" Sappho twists the tomohawk--needlessly violent--out of Mr. Ash's hand and sticks the handle through a belt loop. Quick, short nod--and a sneer. Then, wordless, she stomps off into shade and shadow.

[Patrolling.]

May not be her place, but whose place is it? Fostern's like Orion just seem to let Spirals walk on in--and then, to allow a smart piece like Douglas...

...well, obviously the wood is slightly short-handed.

Never fear, Xen--Sappho is here. ('Sides, she'd love to run into a nasty fomori right now...)


(james)
he didn't think so, but that sure makes a difference in just how much you tell a stranger about yourself, doesn't it

"Call it a..... system of belief, so to speak. Though I think it gets a little more theological than that."

looks up with a grin, tipping the tophat once again, Starling..... how fitting, there's a scant wonder of whether or not she sings

"It's a pleasure to make your aquaintance and use of your campfire, Starling...... hungry? It's not much, but I'll share...."

gestures to the cans of corn and stew that are warming by the fire

(douglas)
"Starling, eh? Well, that's fitting. A bird named Starling." Now alone (ripe for getting beat up, perhaps explaining why Douglas makes an effort to turn down his assholeness just a tiny bit), he drags a fallen log over with much effort and sits down. "Well, if she don't want any I do. I haven't eaten since seven a.m. when that demented cow dragged me out here to look for you guys, or someone like you.

"Have I got your name yet, mate?"

(starling)
Blinks looking down as another appears. Holy shit she was getting invaded. "Well who is that now?" Reaching for the shotgun again.


(james)
a brow lifts a bit as Douglas makes himself quite at home - uninvited - and he scoots over a bit to stay out of scatter range should the blast come

"Starling.... meet Mr. Condescending with his.... little friend....... and no Simon, you never asked nor bothered to give yours."


(douglas)
"Ah, well then." Putting out his hand to James, "Douglas Ashthorn, Speaks-with-Dreams. Fianna Theurge. You going to come down out of that godforsaken tree now, Starling, or are you going to keep pointing that shotgun of yours? It's very phallic, you know. I might think you have a bad case of penis envy, or something of the like."


(james)
and it is then the grin returns (if it ever really went away) reaching out to clasp Douglas' hand

"James Branson, Drums-On-Skulls, Bone Gnawer Ahroun..... and now tell me, Douglas..."

note he hasn't let go of the hand, either, and the boy has a grip - which could very well tighten uncomfortably, couldn't it, a brow lifting

".......other than slinging caustic remarks in all directions like a hippopotamus marking it's territory, even to the Lady here who's nice enough to let us use her campfire, what have you done to earn a meal...."

note he still. isn't. letting. go.

(starling)
"Oh please, if I envied your penis, I'd be holding a twig now." Rolling her eyes even if he couldn't see it.

(douglas)
"Uh, let me see," he says, sounding genuinely taken aback for all of one, blessed, second, "how about I found her in the first place, you bloody sad git, and if you don't give me my ruddy hand back in two seconds, I'll call the bobbies and report that a James Branson attempted to rape me after Mr. Squirrel and his friends string you upside-down on a treetop."

Yanking his hand back, he grumbles and mutters, and then sinks into another brief, close-eyed silence.

(starling)
She didn't have much up here that she couldn't leave if she had to. And she could take the tree route and maybe not break her neck in the dark. She wasn't too sure those two down there weren't going to get into a big fight from the sounds of it.


(james)
there's that grin again, this time directed at Starling

"I told you he kept talking to his little friend."

then there is laughter - full, hearty, infectious laughter

"I'm a bit out of a bobby's jurisdiction, Douglas, I think you're outta luck.... and the local establishment here'd probably listen more to the lady forced up into a tree by your sudden invasion into her campspace. As you may recall, I had permission, you didn't. Besides, rape is a crime of attraction, violence and aggression.... and, well, you're not my type."

reaches to take the cans away from the flames and give them a stir

"Besides.... you don't think the smoke from the campfire would have given her away?"


(nathaniel hess)
And out from the trees..almost eerie how he can emerge from nowhere...
Stalk in Silence a good name for him
He emerges...shirtless, dark skinned, toned, in a pair of jeans, long hair not pulled off his face tonight, that once boyish face now chidled and he looks a bit older, mor mature
He had been through much to make him age rapidly it seems...
hands in his pockets..
He looks around, his eyes move to
HER
If anything was close to happening to her, someone would be leaving one messed up guy...
He speaks with the husky voice..

"Rape?"
is all he says

(douglas)
"Christ, what a bleedin' pity, and here I thought you had a mighty fine arse, too."

The thin-as-a-rail Brit looks at the latest brave to come walking through. "Oh, what's this? Son of Orion, here to pick up his daddy's tomahawk? My Alpha left with it, so sorry. You can try to track her down, but she was in a fine temper and she might flatten you if she doesn't find a fomor to take the brunt of it first."

(starling)
She was up in the tree fort. Having darted up there to give herself the higher ground and a chance to get away if she needed to. Surprised and relieved to see Nathaniel after so many days alone. "Nathaniel?" Sticking her head out through the hole in the floor. Dark hair falling downwards, just adding to the darkness around the hole there. She'd not lit any of the candles, sticking to the dark.


(james)
at the sudden appearence of the tone, chiseled, grunting man from the darkness, a brow lifts, pausing in mid-stir for a moment

"Ah look, the local establishment, I told you they'd be on her side, Douglas."

then a smile spreads, unlike Simon next to him, he's not about to go instantly making enemies when in their territory

"Nathaniel? Pleasure, I'm James.... Starling's safe, don't worry..... Mr. Condescending the PMS'd Irish Setter here has a bark worse than his bite, and I'm nothing to worry about..... are you hungry?" nods to the can in his hands, and the one by the fire "There's not much, but we can make it stretch....."

(nathaniel)
Those eyes stare into Douglas's..."You are in my territory...this is my home, who the hell are you and what the fuck are you trying to imply?"
Tamahawk...jees he was as non-traditional native american as they came


Then his gaze turns to James...his demeanor changes slightly...and he nods in acknowledgement..."Im glad shes safe, but i have spirits tracking her anyways...what are you all doing out here, if you dont mind me asking, its miles and miles from anything, this is our home" he nods up to Starling...
"I'm wondering how it ended to be I have visitors here"

(lucian)
Pine Barrens.

Barren was the right fucking word for the lifeless woodland he was stalking now following a trail that got colder by the bleeding second. He pauses the swat a mosquito (Great.. I think I just caught the fucking West Nile Bullshit.) he pauses hwearing voices in the distance.

(douglas)
"Well don't you have a bloomin' pole up your arse," exclaims Douglas, who isn't used to people being even ruder than himself. "I'm in your territory because no one told me this was your territory, and frankly, I'm just here because my Alpha's been dragging my arse around looking for surly natives just like you. She'd be so disappointed to I was here making all the friends while she was still circling around in the woods.

"Douglas Ashthorn, Speaks-with-Dreams, anyhow..."

(nathan)
The reason he built a house int he trees was to be away from everything, 100,000 miles of lush pinelands, and yet this was the first any visitors wandered into, it was secluded, well hidden and well built..
he waits for an answer....
"Using the fire is fine.." to James...
"But the other here.." eyes flicker to Douglas.."who invited this one...and for that matter who are you"

(Lucian)
He'd know the cat-call of that snide lime anywhere. (Well halla-fucking-lullah.) And yet another comes crashing through the trees to join the group one dark brown brow raising briefly as he takes in the scene.

So much for a subtle entrance.

(james)
there's a nod

"All I intended, then I'll be on my way, my hitch to Atlantic City stopped a little bit short of it's goal and I was looking a place to bed down but the braying jackass here caught my attention before anything else and then we landed here...... Starling? Are there any plates in the fort? I'm afraid I only have settings for one......"


(nathan)
He laughs...this one was more clueless then any he had ever met
markings and scent told it was the wendigos territory
a bloomin pole
The Ragabash wasnt ever rude, he was questioning why people were in his territory and his girl was up in the fort with a gun
"Frannkly, surly natives?" he tilts his head..
this was going well
The ragabash was the fun loving kid silly type of guy, certainly not expecting a party at his home after a 2 week quest in the umbra, all he had wanted was to find her and see her..

"Nathaniel Hess, Stalks in Silence, Ragabash, regardless what you may think of me im pretty entertaining, however not when i come home to Star in a tree pointing a gun and i hear someone talking about rape...although i suppose you find that funny as well:"


(douglas)
"I was crying rape," grouches Douglas, "because this here troglodyte was about to pull my damn hand off."

Looking up at the crashing, then, "Well, look at that, if it isn't Lucian the cavedweller come to grace me with his presence. I'd be careful if I were you, Luc. I don't think Sappho ever got over the Xena comment you and everyone else she's ever met made."

(james)
"James Branson, Drums-on-Skills, Bone Gnawer Ahroun"

basically for Nathaniel alone, before he disappears into the treefort, a broad smile giving his thanks for the effort

"There are some people, that seriously need to work on their education..... Douglas were you expecting me to then shove your dismembered hand up your own arse so you can constitute the rape?"

if there were ever a time actual suffering could cross the dredlocked Ahrouns face, now would be that time, now wondering who else was going to show to this little party

"So.... one Irish Setter and one Cave Dweller?"


(starling)
Nodding and helping him with the plates they had. There wasn't much here, but they made do. "I rigged up a basket on a rope that we can lower things in and pull them back up."

(Lucian)
Lips twitch before he thumbs at his nose casually at douglas. "..actually i was lookin' fer' that lil blonde bitch with the stick for a peace offerin'--but you'll do just fine." Not a change on the squarish facial stuctures of the man who leans so casually against one of the trees at the surround the small clearing.

"..Uh Cavedweller works. Or Binds-with-Might..whaver." A meaty shrug of muscles tendons and bone as the man watches on. Seemingly a tad out of place but then again so comfortable that it seems not at all.

(nathaniel)
He has stopped paying attention to the dwellers under the tree now and seems to be preoccupied with a quiet conversation

(douglas)
The bloke sounded stoned off his ass, he did. Maybe he'd been 'visionquesting' again. Douglas turns his attention back to James and his single, sad little can of food.

"Mate, I hate to pop your birthday balloon, but that just won't stretch far enough to feed us all. I got a banana and a bag of crisps in my bag though."

(lucian)
There's something enormously confident (read arrogant about the easy way he takes in the scene. Or maybe it simply the i turn into a 9+ foot tall moster vibe. Whatever it is its enough to make him lower his eyes briefly to pull a fag and a match from his pocket and striking the it (the match not the fag..duh.) on the bottom of his boot he lights it taking a first quick hit of his cancer stick.

(nathaniel)
He looks down at them and calls to them..."There are a few things up here ill have starling send them down, you are all welcome to stay around as long as it is clear this is my place, and im not in the mood to deal with any crap...

im ususally pretty laid back, but its been a helluve 2 weeks, not to mention, visionquesting (ohh if Douglas knew the stuff Nathaniel had to smoke)


(james)
a brow lifts, looking to Douglas..... oh yes, a banana will sooth the hungers of the mighty warriors that have just joined us, I only expected to be feeding Starling... why don't you take your banana and sho..... but shoulders shrug beneath the tips of light brown dreds, handing the can over to Douglas

"Split it between yourselves....."

two cans, four people, it'll work
but Nathaniel's offer gets his attention.... maybe he will eat after all


(lucian)
"Well shit. Tell the big-Bitch I said Howdy or somethin."

And with a nod to James and then to the treehouse (Geez..Swiss family Robinsin or something.) he makes a small salute twisting is his cap around he turns to stalk back from whence he came.

His colors immediatly blending with the motion chameleon-camo style.

(douglas)
"Those fags are going to blacken your lungs, Luc, see if they don't. Don't believe what they say about regenerating. That just don't happen when you're inhaling cancer by the gallons."

Waving James off, "I'm not starving, mate, I had me a big-mac on the way here." Didn't he just say...? Was he showing a hidden streak of decency? Nah, couldn't be.

"Aw fuck me, lookit that, I just scared the big sot off. I'll be back. Maybe not. You guys are a boring bunch of geezers, anyway."

Nope, definitely not. Getting up, the bony Fianna heads after the drawling Fenrir.

(lucian)
"Just hurry the fuck on up then Limey-sonofa.."

He chuckles in the distance unbelieveably hard to see at thos point only the last lingering scent of cheap ciggarette smoke lingering in his wake.


(starling)
Collecting together a pot and a couple of cans of beef stew and fruit cocktail. Tossing a can opener in the basket with the plates and other things and lowering them down through the hole in the floor.

Posted by james at September 07, 2002 12:00 AM
Comments
Post a comment
Name:


Email Address:


URL:


Comments:


Remember info?