October 13, 2002
.10.13.02. - you can't always go home [imogen-sterling]

[north jersey]

(imogen)
Today, her pager has yet to go off. As the hours passed and started to tilt past the regular time where bodies are found in daylight, as rooms are checked or smells are investigated, she worked out her day, and really, considering her hours it is still early when she departs from the bar, fingers digging into her eye sockets trying to relieve the burn of fatigue within.

Worn and loved hiking boots whisper against the concrete as she steps onto the street, hands sliding into the pockets of faded jeans, curved across her hips and flesh. Thumbs hook into belt loops and a careful shake of her head dislodges curling and rioting red hair from her eyes. A black tank top is visible through the opening of a short suede jacket, meshing easily with her almost rustic apparel. The pale featured almost elfin-faced female is attractive, and her steps are easy and quick as she begins to walk down the street.

She hadn't had all that much to drink, really. She'd gone in for the ambience; the fact that the whiskey was alright had simply been an added bonus.

It's nearly midnight on Jersey's streets, and the orange glow of the street lights catch the faint mist that hangs in the air. It's sogging. The rain doesn't quite fall, it certainly doesn't pound, and it's definitely not raining cat's and dog's. The mist simply hangs there, seeping through hair and clothing and glistening against skin; too wet to be called fog, and to light to be a good downpour. It's rather melancholy in a way, muting all the sounds to whispers of tire against concrete. On the plus side it's kept some people home. Folks can be right wimps about rain, when you get down to it. She's one of the few people walking down the orange lit street.

(james)
there's tender moments of idle relaxation in every man's life
sometimes they're just a little harder to find than others
but this time, our boy's lucked out

street's quiet
no gunshots, no sirens, no fears
a little dampness
but when you've slept outside in the NY snowstorms, a little dampness doesn't hurt
the glow of the streetlamps almost makes sort've an ambiance
a little glow here and there in the near fog
anyone in their right mind would be inside to avoid getting a chill

nice and quiet

just a Gnawer stretched out on the sidewalk, leaning up against a wall, idly munching on a cheeseburger plucked from the McDonald's sac resting beside his BDU covered thigh

(imogen)
It's quiet, almost oddly so, the city having decided to cozy up inside (whether inside was a door way, or one of the over priced condos) rather than make trouble, or simply loiter around. It's not quite peaceful, simply enclosed, somehow the air seems thicker, closer, the city leaving it's mark against your skin along with the misting rain.

The hiss of her steps halts as she catches sight of the prostrate man against the wall, not because there was simply someone there, but because he was who he was. Eyes narrow faintly, before she inhales, slowly, pulling the edges of her jacket together and beginning to walk purposefully toward him. Seconds later, the pale skinned woman stands before the bone gnawer, staring down at him.

"There were none of your prints found in tha room. What I have has been destroyed," she declares without preamble, shifting lightly from one foot to another.

(james)
now that's.... nothing out of the ordinary, is it
being looked down upon
but out here on the streets - while he's the same man she met last night - he seems completely different
damp, dirty, utterly exposed out in the open, this is his element

and those dark brown eyes lift from beneath those light dreads
the glisten of waterdroplets reflected in the deep down genuine sparkle contained in them
the easy smile spanning his features accompanied by a nod

cool

"Cheeseburger?"

the bag lifted in offer

(imogen)
Instinctively she does not like him. Unlike what most might think (a pure bred gal like her, after all...) it has nothing to do with his tribe, or the fact his element is damp and dirty.

It's something else.

After a moment, she simply sits with her back against the wall, taking the bag, pulling out a cheese burger, offering the bag back if there is more food in it, and crumpling it up if otherwise, "Thank you," she says out of politeness. And, after all, she's hungry.

"It's a nice night," she notes, perhaps more to herself than to him.

(sterilng)
*sure, the weather's not the best, and sure, it's soggy outside, but is that any reason to avoid going out at night? Well... Yes, actually, it is. Of course, if you don't have anyplace to get out of the rain, this is as good as it gets.

Moist and dirty, the young boy shuffles quietly down the road, trying to remain as inconspicuous as a 13 year old kid in ragged out clothes can be at this time of night. He's not too bad at staying out of sight, but it's his curiousity that always gets the best of him.

Absently readjusting the dirty Tarheels hat on his head to cover his eyes somewhat, he crouches down against a wall down the road a bit from the two, just outside the radius of one of the many street lamps.

That guy, yea, him, there, with the McDonalds... mmmm.... McDonalds bag... Yea, he's the bum, the one from the store. The prick, treats the boy like oh-so-much shit, then gets him interested, then leaves him AND, to top it all of, makes himself hard to find. Well, not that anybody wanted to find him, but, well... The principle of the thing.

For now, anyway, the bum has been found, and the boy watches him, and his aquaintance*

(james)
there is
he was intending to take food back to the pack (everybody eatz) but there's enough change leftover from his earlier performance to buy more - when the weather's bad, the flocks tend to gather to shelter, and it guarantees an audience
the bag rerolled and tucked away into the Alice pack that rests on his other side

"Welcome."

polite, or genuine, it's there nonetheless

"And I'll agree to that. Warm meal, quiet streets, finally have that seasonal change in the weather.... who could ask for more?"

well, he could, his pack could be here
but they were busy
the cheeseburger finished in relative chewing silence before he's glancing over

"Mind if I ask you something?"

a little more brazen now that he's not concerned about being rude in her territory

(imogen)
She carefully unwraps the cheese burger and takes a bite as he speaks, extraordinary blue eyes flickering out toward the streets as a car drifts by, it's wheels hissing. The cheeseburgers finished in silence, she crumples the wrapping in pale slender hands, dropping it into the paper bag between the two of them.

Pale eyes flicker toward him and a coppery eyebrow arches, before slender shoulders shrug just slightly, "Alright," she concedes simply.

Perhaps the third person (are they really people?) on the street is unnoticed by the dark blue eyes, as the woman keeps her eyes on the street and the vaguely passing cars, spilling their poison into the air.

(james)
his constant sweeps of the area just seem natural
and they are, things become ingrained
another cheeseburger appears in his hands from the bag
but he doesn't make a move to open it

maybe he's just warming his hands

"You always all business.... or you have something against Blood?"

that they're not from the same Tribe doesn't bother him
Folks is Folks
Garou are Garou
Blood is Blood
(unless you're a ShadowLord)
and he noticed the lack of preamble or even hello in tonight's entertainment

that gaze drifting down the street, waiting for her answer
pointedly?
maybe....

ever notice how scents carry further in damp air?

(imogen)
She rests her back against the wall, tilting her head up toward the mist, eyes scannning the clouded skies before finally lighting on the faint glow that is the barest hint of a half moon.

"I'm always all business," she replies, her voice a lilt of cornish ancestory; obviously british, though it's not the language the queen of england would speak. This is the language of the pubs, where you can be called 'guv'na' and it would not sound bizarre. It would simply be a part of the atmosphere. "I don't much spend time 'round tha full bloods izzall."

(james)
there's a soft, soft chuckle

"I don't blame you, personally."

a wink, and even a smile
of course, there are many that wouldn't call him a fullblood, either
he doesn't push for a reason why
he simply accepts her as she is

now that he knows that's how she is, anyway

but his gaze is still off down the street, at seemingly nothing, or maybe a little shadow
a very familiar shadow
the yellow wrapped burger spins once in nimble fingers
an offering?
you betcha

now.... will it be taken.


(imogen)
A faint smirk touches her lips as he speaks, shaking her head. Half damp tendrils of hair slide forward into her eyes. Dark blues dart across the street, sliding across the garbage cans and street lamps trying to find the source of James' attention, as elbows lean forward slightly to rest on her knees.

(sterling)
*Damn... He's been found. Or, at least Mr. Bum has a good idea he's out there... Well, too bad, he's not taking the bait... Even though it's a... cheeseburger, and... it's... real food and...

Before he realizes what he's doing, he's getting to his feet and taking a few steps into the light and towards the two down the road, but, more importantly, towards the burger... food...

The kid's deffinately worse off for his time out in the streets. His Abercrombie and Fitch shirt is dirty and stained, and his American Eagle cargo shorts are torn in a couple places, and black smudges cover them in random spots. The UNC Tarheels hat on his head is fairly clean, but even it has seen it's better days. His Doc Marten sandals are deffinately well worn, but, well, those things never look old, no matter how much abuse they take.

His hands in his pockets now, he shuffles up the way towards the burger... oh yea, and the familiar guy and his friend, they're there too, with the burger*

(james)
now, a smirk is something that may, possibly, one day lead to a smile
he'll keep that in mind

his attention stays on the kid
now that the risen will give away what he's been looking at to Imogen
waiting until the boy's within a few yards
and tossing the cheeseburger at him for an easy catch

he bet the kid hadn't eaten
looking at him, well, the Gnawer would be one bet richer
easy half-grin saying he's pretty glad to see the kid stil alive
even if way way worse for wear

"Got a couple more where that came from, too."

looking back to Imogen with a little bit of a grin
Once a Hood, always a Hood
Blood is Blood and the boy hasn't got a drop to rely on

(imogen)
She rests her elbows on her knees, silently as her pale blue eyes slide over the boy's dingy and scrawny attire. Between both James and Sterling, Imogen is quite out of place. Her hair is damp, and falling loosely over her cheekbones, her clothing wet, and she is outside in the rain, like they are, but there is flesh on her bones, and her skin is a fine pale milk colour, ungrimed and clear. The clothing is decent, too. Clean; warm.

She does not offer a greeting to the boy, not quite unfriendly, but making no overtures, and James's smile is not returned.`

(sterling)
*yea, so much for that burger... It was doomed the second it left the man's hand. With an almost ravenous look in his eyes, the kid watches the arc of the paper-wrapped delicacy and reaches out to snatch it from the air. He's off in his own little world as he sits down right there and unwraps the burger, wolfing it down in a little under three bites... Well, okay, maybe one long bite.

With the burger gone and out of the way, he crumples up the paper with a slightly sad look on his face, and looks back to the man, the paper still cradled in his fingers.

His voice is slightly hoarse from disuse, but he clears his throat shortly after he begins speaking, setting all the working parts in order*

"Thank... Thanks man... First thing I've had in like, a week... I, uhm... kinda ran out of money a-awhile back.

*he finally acknowledges the female's presence, but it's just with a sort of glance-over from the boy's clear blue eyes. A jealous look at her clean clothes, but nothing more. He doesn't know her, hell, he hardly knows this guy*

(james)
there's another bit of a chuckle

"I know, I was there, remember? I didn't think that bag of jerkey was going to last all that long."

the bag uncrumpled and another cheeseburger produced (gotta love sundays) and held out towards the boy, he's going to have to come and get it
a Hood'll help you, but you have to work for it

"And chew this time.... won't do you any good to bring it right back up."

mothering?
no
he's just gone hungry before, too
knows what it's like to bolt to an empty stomach then lose it all faster than you got it down

"Think about what I said last time? And don't worry about her, she's blood."

which would explain to Imogen why he's helping this strange kid
real young
lost
running
should sum it all up right there

(imogen)
She's also older than the two; with fresh skin like her own, it's difficult to gauge her age, it's the kind of flesh that always appears young (perhaps Sterling's jealous mind wonders if it's simply that she's lived easy... sometimes he must feel so old, he can feel his bones creak), at the very least, the woman is in her late twenties. Perhaps more.

She entwines her fingers together, slender digits chapped and worn, calloused, slightly incongruous with her otherwise rather cleaned look.

James is given a rather dark piercing look, a glance that could peel paint before she exhales, slowly, nodding, patting her pockets slowly in search of something.

(sterling)
*he hesitates a bit, not really wanting to get too much closer... Sure... Blood... Whatever. She's kinda creepy with those nasty looks and shit. She don't look at all the type that'd be out here on a night like this associating with street trash without a self-serving reason. Well... it is a cheeseburger.

Scooting forward, he sits just a couple feet away from Mr. Dreadlocks and quickly grabs the burger, tearing it open and going to wolf it down in much the same manner, but, with a frown, he glares at the guy and takes a smaller bite, chewing it up slowly before swallowing and moving on to the next*

"Yea, I thought about it... Well, kinda. Sounds like a lie and such, but, I don't have anything else, really... I'm kinda well, stuck out here. Fuck, I dunno. How do I know you're not just some asshole trying to throw me a story and shit? Maybe you're one of those 'nasty things' you were talking about..."

*the boy's clear eyes focus on the older man now, his gaze is hard, and it's obvious that he totally doesn't believe the guy, even if he wants to. Everybody's out to get him now, everybody...*

"The cops know I'm out here now... They saw me the other day."

(imogen)
Found it. She'd bought them earlier today. Out comes a pack of cigarettes, followed by tapping out a cigarette. More patting in search of a lighter as she tries to remember if she bought one of those. Dragging herself to her feet, dark azure eyes go from James and back to Sterling staring at him again, this time more shrewdly as she takes a few steps away, finding a lighter in a back pocket. Lighting up, she sucks on the filter, lighting the cigarette, before exhaling slowly, a stream of grey cancerous air, turning deliberately away from the two.


(james)
he never specified what blood was, did he
only said to help the boy out
note he also didn't give her name
but luckily his skin remains properly covering his bones from that look

and he just about laughs
just about
but doesn't
last thing this kid needs is to be mocked
so instead he sets it straight
the kid getting the Full Moon's full attention

"You don't know. But no matter what, the guy playing the other side is going to be the bad guy to the person explaining things to you, right? What you need to do is trust instinct. It's either going to tell you to come with me, or run like hell. I'm offering you a shower, food, warmth, a change of clothes, and an explanation to what just happened. Your other choices include these nasties I keep mentioning, or waiting for the cops to find you and take you home."

the Gnawer draws his feet up and stretches to stand
gathering the Alice pack with the rebar drumsticks sticking from the top but not shouldering it quite yet

"If I was a nasty, I'd've skinned you already. And I think going home has about the same appeal. Now my friend here as a night to get on with, and I've got a long walk to get home. It's up to you kid, I won't push, but I won't look back, either."

(imogen)
To her, it's all the same. But now that she knows he's only just changed (or thinks he has) it's no where near as bad as it could be.

She inhales slowly from the cigarette, glancing at the boy out of the corner of her eye, "Ye'd do well ta listen to him," speaks the woman with her attractive voice, "Tha baddies are none sae subtle as this."

(sterling)
*he kinda hangs his head at the explanation, and at the woman's cold demeanor... Whatever blood this guy means, hers seems to run cold in her veins. Whatever...

He mulls over the ideas for a few moments as he finishes off the burger, and, as he folds the wrapper up again, preparing himself to speak

A shower would be nice... Maybe some more food... Hell, just to get away from the cops and shit...*

"Well... I can't exactly go home... I kinda fucked that one up..."

*he pauses again, looking back up at James, seeming more than a little out of his league asking for help of any kind. Well, he's not really asking for help, just a buddy*
"Uhm. You mind if I walk home with you? Y'know, just for some company or something?"

*he doesn't really acknowledge the woman... But, she's at least making a good point. If they're as bad as they're supposed to be, they wouldn't offer him food, right?"

(james)
had Sterling's opinion of Imogen's blood have been spoken aloud, the Gnawer probably wouldn't disagree
he's met warmer folks
but some just as standoffish

dreads dance over his shoulders in a nod

"Sure thing, kid."

there's a glance to Imogen
and his chin drops in a slow nod
this one speaking for far more than acknowledgement
there's gratitude for her support
and her help from earlier

the heavy pack shouldered

"Come on, kid, it's a couple mile walk..... everyone should be passed out by the time we get there so you may even have hot water in the shower."

and he doesn't seem to have a problem in the world walking home in the rain

(imogen)
A fraction of nod in reply, eyes dropping to the concrete out of habit, before raising her head again and drawing deeply off of the cigarette and blowing the smoke away as she turns on her heel, beginning to walk back in the direction she'd been heading before she'd met up with James.

Back toward the SUV parked two blocks away under the street light.

(sterling)
*he pockets the wrapper and stands up slowly, motioning to brush any dirt off his pants that they may have gathered... but, he stops himself, it's a futile effort. With a sigh he crams his hands in his pockets and looks at the woman again, watching her leave... Cold, so cold... What a bitch.

leaning back against the wall, he looks up and down the road, trying to hide the relief in his expression with disinterest*

"So, where is it that we're going, exactly? Not like a cold shower would really bother me... We're kinda getting one now, right?"

*and a small, very small smile*


(james)
but the small, very small smile brings out that same easy grin from the Ahroun
even after everything - yes indeed, there is hope
nodding down the street
one tattered cuff raising as he points to a building that's just as mysteriously shadowed in the darkness as Sterling was when the first cheeseburger was offered

"Home."

for now, anyway
home has often changed nightly
already he's heading into the steady stroll
the kind that's used to walking from one end of a city to the other without missing a beat
the indigenous tribesman following the native trails of this concrete jungle

"It's an apartment some friends and I share."

(imogen)
She exhales very slowly as she's out of hearing distance from the two full bloods, eyes closing for a moment before forcing them open and beginning to walk again, her free hand reaching up to rub her neck as she begins the mental process of trying to relax, forcing muscles to loosen and her mind to switch to a less tense gear.

The cigarette, half finished is tossed, end over end into a gutter a block away from her vehicle.

One more block to go.

(sterling)
*he nods a little bit and looks off down the road, studying the place for a second or two, just long enough to get passed by James. Getting his bearings straight, he rushes to catch up, and then walks beside the taller man, hands still in his pockets*

"They aren't going to care that your dragging me in with you?"

(james)
his head shakes

"Nope. They'll understand."

pack will understand
without him having to explain

"You're staying more than a night is questionable, though."

Posted by james at October 13, 2002 12:00 AM
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