October 26, 2002.10.26.02. - hit it off [lazarus-gaby](gaby jones)
Ahhh freedom a deep breath of fresh air...city stench...mmmmm
She walks out from the back door as it slams behind her
Hands move into her pockets as she moves up the ol street.
Hair scraggley framing her face...she looks the same
on the outside
Converse high tops on her feet. her big toe starting to peek through the faded canvas, but not quite yet... baggy jeans hanging off her hips...a tight green t-shirt which reads ~STAFF~ on the front of it. like a t-shirt from an Event...on the back it says Infection but the denim jacket covers the punchline.Pulling out a smoke...she lights it up...back to life, back to reality
Back to the pool hall..back to the sanity...
she hated the sanity she had left..
[i will not let you down]
The smirk crosses her lips as she pulls from the cigarette...19, free and on the street..and broke
Time to make the donuts..
pool hall...time to hustle some dough(lazarus)
Nickel and Dime.
(Water and Wine.)Her head is cradled under a woolen cap, where the delicate wire frames of small spectacles hige thier arms which reach round her ears. She's positioned on the bench of a bustop a guitar played with more talent than skill, under sliding fingers. Gold-kissed features shine bonze under the orangey' cast light of flickering streetlamps...
Its the voice.
(Damn her.)Its siren call wrapping threads of sound about the street, nigh palpable pulsing and evanescent as the foggy breath of autumn. [Sing a song of winter--that my future told.] Turns heads and pockets unto the opened guitar case beside her, its mouth yawning poverty. [Sing a song of mourning--about the souls they've sold] Those singers minister on metallic strings, they preach and beckon, the burn and scald.
Look away.
(Can you?)(james)
another day
another night
another place to sleep
another wake up call that came entirely too earlyhe had checked in, breifly, with Decker and the others
sorta
more like he left a message at the motel and they haven't called back yet
cause he still had Rune's cell
(with very .low. batteries.)second hand Cochrans beat a strange tattoo on the shaped cement
the raggedyman tribesman transversing concrete jungle trails
dreads flop over the shoulders of patchwork trench dipping down to tattered ends around his ankles
it's gettin Brisk, baby(gaby)
And she walks...passing byt the old steps up to the old apartement..
what ever happened to that place She had just left it...She doesnt give it a second glance...a she walks...pulling the last of the smoke from the cigarette and flicking the butt to the curb..Wonder what happened to Eddie, she would need to hook up, get some smoke...
had to make some money first..pool hall
The place looked the same, smelled the same..was the same..
same shit different day
And as she walks she just glances around at the few people that are scattered around-----eyes stop on the singer
"Well holy shit"
she smirks..thought that girl had gone off to join the gang world..last time she saw her she was actin all weird
She stands there, and leans up against the wall...not too far..
merely watching
Pulling out another smoke and lighting it up...(laz)
'Manda's on the pavement
thinking bout the government
I'm in the basement
mizin up the medicine--city senses ain't like country senses--did you know? Takes a whole differnt set of lungs to breath city air, a whole differnt set of eyes to understand city sights. A whole differnt state of mind to understand--fuck, some of us NEVER understand.(I'm talking 'bout acceptance--you UNDERSTAND too well.)Its her playing the magick of musicial notes that stretch and distend like the muscled motions of beating urban (..but NEVER urbane.) heart.
man in trenchcoat
badge out, laid off
Says he has a bad cough
..wants to get paid off."I never knew yuo, you never knew me-- say hello, Goodbye."
Is she singing to gaby, Nah. Lazraus just vibes off the emotions in the air. --its how she gets paid.
(james)
there's something about when you're a street musician that grabs at you when you hear someone else pouring their soul out for pennies or quarters or and other nugget of spare change from the hands of the holy and employed
conventionally employed, anyway
and it's her voice
even though he could have gone the rest of his life without hearing it again and been very damned content and happy and even fulfilled
he has to admitit's nice
and it makes him stop
muscular shoulder leaning against another wall
just like Missy - not too far, and definitely not too close
merely watching
drumsticks rattling in their sling over his backlet's see whatcha got, Lordling
(missy)
aint that the truth
and some people..ya just had that unspoken agreement with..that unspoken law
dont ask i wont tell, dont mess with me, i wont mess back
Give me no reason to ask and i wont.
Sometimes that doesnt work, but for her and Laz...it always had..
everyone for themselves in this jungle but these 2, as much as they didnt talk..it was the reason they never hated each other..
an understanding...sort of..unwritten rule
Could that ever change..sure..but so far..so good so what
And so she pushes off the wall...and moves towards the girl..
No money in her pocket, she cant very well drop any into the case..
So she stands there...
awaiting the song to end(laz)
More than most Lazarus understands emotions, its her stock and trade well that and.. secrets. (Read: Information merchant.)Fingers cast silken siders webs of sounds that stretch and catch apon eager ears long only for the next note. For the moment the street is transformed, it is raw emotion and watercolor paints, it its pastel hued greys... the world she creates is one of longing.--one that can almost be heard even as the song fades, that slanting (Never. Trust. An. Arab.) be-spectacled gaze flickering to the presence on her left--I know you.
"Ain't seen your face in a while.."
(james)
well hello there
his head tilts, watching the new girl with dark hair just walk up to stand infront of Lazarus
but he doesn't much move yet
no.... not yet
still just watching
waiting
learningthough a part of him pities the song ended
(missy)
Emotions are a strange thing..when you dont really have them...
a misture of feeling free sadness and anger mixed with lonelyniess and longing...while in there also is a feeling of a pack and togetherness, a smorgasborg of emotions all twisted together in her head...
happiness..but not cheerful happy..evil inside, but no less evil then she had ever been
it wa her fate
and the masks she wears are almost flawless(laz)
Her eyes flicker over the girl thoughtfully even as fingers still dance against the strings, albeit lightly, almost absently. Its background music but it twist with an inquisitive edge, the notes seeming to quest through air for something hat is (at most) undefined."Caught the trail of something bad, been lying low a bit."
Does she siver--never. But the music takes on a more shrill cant. If you listened close enough it might almost be scary. She looks down at the guitar and stops playing her hand moving to adjust her spectacles instead.
"Hanging with a new crew or somethin?--ya look differnt."
(missy)
She nods..."yeah..fuck these fuckers" and that she meant..
"was sick of the bullshit..."
funny when ya throw the truth in there once in a while
"But its still me and me...thats the only one i really hang with" she glances to the guy who seems to be watching
and clears her throat a bit eyes wandering to him..
you know himShe pulls out a smoke and lights it with an old pack of matches...holding the pack to Laz..
"Smoke?"(hematite)
she is in the alley. (What alley doesn't matter. All that does is that it is empty. Was empty. Is a mirror-glass that doesn't reflect. ...How long ago the alley was filled is another question all together. How long it took pushing against the membrane between words until reborn rehatched risen and wet from her efforts she is. Again. Alive.)Hematite
[ blood. stone. smoke. imagery. ]
is crouched on the slipshod plastic of a cracked dumpster lid.Pungent, the aroma beneath; her nostrils flare - feral - and her fingers coil tightly on blood bare feet.
(laz)
"No doubt."..head turns toward the other (Delusion of grandeur himself.) and both brows raising briefly as the stog is accepted and settled onto her lips. Her fist tapping Gabbs in an absent pound (Touch: No its not what I think it is, I'm paranoid. That's all.) before she regards him fully now--
"You trying to get back to your roots or someshit" A chuckle. "I mean, Sir."
A passing comment before she turns back to Missy (lightning in my blood--strange moments, these.) Head canting.
"Or does that remark go to you Miss, Cosmo-pol-eee-tan. Slumming down memory lane?"
(missy)
She glances to "sir" and then to Laz..
"yup damn straight" she laughs.."but i aint cosmo-anything..im broker then fuck and heading to the pool hall" she doesnt let the paranoia grab her..she wasnt paranoid anymore..not like before.
nothing to be afraid of
"Wouldnt call it slumming down menory lane, never left the slums" she shoves her hands back into her pockets leaving the smokes there and relaxing..Eyes just wander to the quiet guy...and then back to Laz..
"I aint gonna inturrupt n shit..i got to make some cash" Eyes move up the street to the old home pool hall
"shits tight all over chica"(james)
there's a bit of a laugh now
weight shifting to pull from the wall
tall Gnawer smooth and confident
(grand? surely you jest, he knows his place good as any)"Nah, just enjoying the music, M'Lord"
chin dips in a nod at Missy
but not much more(laz)
Eyes flicker between the two and that hand creeps back to the guitar once more--as if it were a child stealing a cookie before the rest of her takes notice--the absent playing ensues.Melodious confusion.
"You too know each other?"(hematite)
[....Lightning in my blood--
strange moments, these.]The damp of the alley (silver pooled in puddles) reaches into her chest, fine tendrils; the girl crackles with a livid energy and her eyes narrow at the passing rush of sleek metal things that go in straight lines outside of this alleyway safety. Her shoulders coil over each other, arching up to press against her ears, which scream in protest against the sound--
Mouths one word.
"Where."Then prowls off the dumpster, startling at the rattle of aluminum against aluminum.
Been a while. Been a long while. Uncertain, she edges - skittish, skittish - onto the street.
Brilliant-eyed, really.
(missy)
She shakes her head..
"nope"
She watches the guy..
and catches a scent...
hello darkness my ol friend...ive come to talk with you again.
"should i?"(laz)
"Same fam. He's new though."Thats all the first b(h)it is free, the next will cost ya. So many things about her could addict, the knowlege she stored away in that riddling cranium, not the least of her wares. But-- She distracted by (..I'll be seeing you in all the old familiar places..) a creeping feeling that curls about her.
--just whe you think you've locked your closet.
(Another skeleton jumps out.)(missy)
Same fam
She nods once to the guy...but doesnt start any intorductions...
Eyes moving back to Laz she nods...
"you been riding solo? Or you still hangin with the same peeps?"(james)
"Not yet."easy enough
a smile, warm, genuine
relaxed before the verbal assault he knows will soon come
but to the one he doesn't know
you seem so famliar"James."
hand extended, still wrapped from last night
(hey, it's getting cold)
t-shirt rags turned boxer's brace
being polite and all
since they seem to have Lazarus in common
and that Family thing..... so it seems....(missy)
She shrugs and nods in acnowledgement at the hand, not gonna clomp fists against something healing.
"Missy" is all she says in reply..
(hematite)
Her unblinking stare flicks around; pauses on a car. (It was always strange.) Wonder, wonder, little star--how I wonder where I am. Sucking on her lower lip intense she tries to make her eyes focus on some lettering tagged across the street. But it isn't important. Instead, her dark(ly iridecent) wolvish glance grabs onto thin air--and she, not touching anything, fueled like a shooting star burning out the last cinders of (rage) light follows.[ not. you. too. ]
They see a girl in heavy jeans, crusted and burned and many-holed--it must be a fashion statement--and too snug around the swell of hungry (flanks) thighs, a white bone of hip jutting out to somehow exacerbate the hollow of (starved) stomach.
And when she shadows around the corner
[ ... ghost ... ]
her eyes are right away drawn to Lazarus' lower back.So easy.
So easy.
So easy.
Too easy. Too, too easy.Because, a half-growl inches in the back of her throat--defensive, self-directed--and is swallowed. Because. Because because because. Because. If. If if if--SHE was one of them. But she wasn't. Hematite, arrested in motion like a butterfly stabbed to earth, feels her lips (chappd) curl into a semblance of a smile (it's a mystery). That sickness, healed.
Right.
(laz)
And the guitar played on [Melodius confusion] as the spectacled girl watches placidly.You'd better believe she's watching them the (tug. tug tug.) on her attention not distracting her from this moment of hand offered and not accepted. (Remember when all Missy wanted was to meet another tribemate--not anymore.) Things change, people change and life (to finish the cliche) goes on.
"Wonders never cease. Here I though you were a big dawg n'all."
And her eyes flicker past James (mask revealed) to the barefoot girl in burned jeans. Laz's jaw simply drops. For once, at a loss for words.
(james)
a brow lifts
so you're Missyfancy that
ignored hand dropped back to his side
a part of him understands it
(a part of him is grateful for it)
no matter
it's all goodquirking a grin at Lazarus
"Here I guess you thought wrong."
he never said he was a big dawg
did he(hematite)
Hematite hums low to herself (an incessant. cricket. sound. more. wild. still. by. sun.) and sways in place.Not so much because she is unconscious of the neurotic gesture, but because she has been frozen in hunt so long that she must forcibly remind herself of what it is to dance in the cities of man (snarl) and woman (growl). Even so Hematite stops her unrhythmic rock and her hands slick into the remains of once-pockets, fingers fraying out of holes. Even so, Hematite stands. still.
Her eyes have switched from the girl to those around her - and measuringly remained for an instant, another - and then she has subsided. Settled to wait by the wall and to follow Lazarus home--that's the vague intention beginning to coalsce in her brain (like some dubious weather vein) at least. Until -
eyes meet.
[Stare.](laz)
Instinct pervades.
(growl rises low in her throat.)..you better not be here to take me back. (She'd never do that Sid.) And turns the unending percussion of vocal war into the softest of sighs. An expression only capable of of a moonsinger--I was once, not anymore. (Sid?--Obsidian? no. Lazarus.) Not anymore, she was nothing and no one, stripped of auspice, tribe, and rank stripped of the self they had constructed, I don't know you anymore.
(I wish I did.)
But she cannot look away from the barefoot girl in the burned jeans.
Can.
Not.(james)
okay, he may be a little slow sometimes
and safe to say he was distracted by Missy for a few minutes
but right now
.... he just can't miss the growing standoff infront of himfantastic
one Lord bitch
one..... burned woman scarey intensely staring thing
one corrupted Gnawer
one confused Gnawer
(that's been happening so often lately)
and tension thickening in the airhe should have just stayed at the motel, seriously.
because he has no clue what to do right now
(hematite)
touching metal gives people shocks now. Undercurrent of (more then just) electricity rides high in the air.Sudden, Hematite slashes the air with one thin (fleshless?) hand--ducking her head in ill-concealed, coiled, angry agitation.
Shut. Up.
Followed by the culmination of indecision--decision like the flood of a wave (crash, crash) or the sound of thunder.
Hematite? Backs away, and disapears around the corner.
It was just a ghost, Lazarus.
...and the spirits sing her passing.(laz)
"I just--did you.. I mean--"Its all she can o to speak unglish (...not the lilting arabic of her birth) choked words as strings continue to vibrate against her minitrations choking back the wave of emotions that clash within her. This stranger does not know you--keep it together. And for that fleeting instant she must look utterly lost staring after the incessent space the barefoot girl occupied, so much less her (carefully constructed.) image, and more the l(-ost) -one wold she is. Bravado gone in a flash of electric disappearence...
"--see that?"
(james)
close your mouth, James, that's rudelips close from their slight part
taking a glance to where the girl disappeared to
he thinks he didquiet for a short spell
in thought
how.... bizarre
but slowly nodding"Yes."
looking to the stunned Lord with a brow slightly raised
I told you this 'hood was going to hell"Mean something?"
there's no contrition or condescention
he seriously wants (needs) to know
Garou to Garou
differences aside for these few seconds
that was just..... freaky......(laz)
"Yeah..."Her eyes are still fixed to that spot. The last breath of her single syllabic response seeeming to trail off into infinity (Damn her, you don't want to but the Lordling is SO freaking likable.) And finally the spectacled gaze flickers up to the thug brow twitching briefly before she realizes herself.
Strangers.
"Oh." Blink. "Fuck where we talking about again?"Glimpse closed, resume facade.
(james)
how..... delightfully.... forthcoming you are with information that might be valueable to the integrity of my hide
seriously
thank you.(damn that voice)
there's a slight glare.... er.... glance to the one from the same fam
muscle rolling shoulders in a slight shrug
it may not be apparent to the common bystander, but after all that distrusting going on yesterday, it seems he's..... standing a little closer to the Lordling, isn't he
he wants to know more about that thing
but he's not going to ask it infront of Missy"My delusions of granduer, if I remember correctly."
said with that damnable easy smile
(laz)
And as Missy leaves for the pool hall Laz turns and waves, "Be safe, Stranger." Something wasn't right about Missy, but Laz wasn't the type to pry (..no she was more the type to break into your house and read your diary.)Exhalation as she looks up to James with a twisting smirk--(...belies the confused uncertainty that writhes--that wasn't Hematite, was it?)
"So yeah--ain't you grand."
Kinda lame--okay she's have an off day.(james)
he..... doesn't give Missy quite as fond a farewell
not one at all, really
just a bit of a smile, and a bit of nod
and.... that's it(makes you want to shudder)
chuckling as the grin turns back to the Lordling
cause he's really amused, tonight"Well, you seem to keep implying I am, for some reason."
(imogen)
A storm is coming, promised the strange effeminate man the night before. He was right, he was wrong. The rain that day had been brief, and has already passed over, leaving the world damp and cool, with a half formed fog hanging in the air, the sky still mostly obscured by clouds, only the faintest patch of sky showing through in places, little splashes of stares and sometimes moon.The motel room as damp, as cheap motel rooms would be, the wetness seeping through the air, feeling heavy and sluggish, unpleasant against the skin. She sits by the window, at the cheap malformed table, foot pressed against the central leg, trying to keep the table level, as she peruses through a file folder of macabre memories. An ashtray rests in the centre of the table, a cigarette half burned out, and smouldering resting against the lip, to be picked up when she recalls it. Bare feet, jeans, a dark blue sweater, long sleeved and moulded against her torso. One hand reaches up absently, pushing back unruly hair, and drawing the mass over one shoulder, theoretically to get it out of the way, as the other hand reaches out to pluck the cigarette from the ashtray.
"The bloke," apparently they truly do say bloke in England, "who put up those flyers said he'd be able t'meet with me tonight," she notes absently, placing the cigarette between her lips. Engrossed in whatever files she's been perusing, it's the first she's spoken in hours.
(decker)
Two twin--sized beds. Talk about sending mixed signals. Lounging on the left one, no shirt no shoes (they'd never let him into a restaurant at this rate), Decker clicks through channels on the tube. Seems like no matter how much money a man did or didn't have, how old he was, how good his breeding or how bad his upbringing, they all knew how to surf three hundred channels in a minute. Of course, this being Crap Motel, USA, there are only twenty or so channels to zip through.The volume's down low. The bedspread is kicked down almost off the edge of the bed to reveal clean sheets. Relative to the comforter, at least. He sits with his back to the headboard, pillow between, and when she speaks, he stops his flipping for a minute and looks at her.
"Oh yeah?" Half-disinterested. "He say why he's lookin' fer her?"
(imogen)
The file folder shuts softly, as she half glances over her shoulder at him with a shake of her head, "Not a word," she answers, tapping ash into the ashtray as she exhales slowly. The cigarette is stubbed out, as she drops the file folder back into a brief case, shutting it with a clunk of a lock. "I didn't ask though. Some of that shite isn't best to do ove the phone."When perhaps indicating to someone that a loved one may be in her morgue, doing it over the phone must seem like bad taste indeed.
(decker)
Hangnail on his hand. Chewing it loose, his attention diverts from her briefly to pull it off and flick it aside. Garou aren't exactly shining paragons of etiquette as a rule, and he wasn't a shining paragon of a Garou. Sitting up, he stuffs another pillow behind his back and leans into it. Zapping the TV into mute mode, he tosses the remote down, folds his arms across his chest, and looks back at her."So what you gonna tell 'im?"
(laz)
"Maybe its taht stick up your ass?"She snickers hand falling away from the guitar even as she stands. Taking the strap the slim girl settles it over slim shoulders watching the thug all the while--a bit wearily. Those spectacles slide down the slope of her nose with the motion and blinking up at him a brow lifts quizzically.
"Where we goin, James?"
(It was the voice of Gaia herself--the sound of seraphic swords being drawn from silvered shields.)You wanted to hate it.
(james)
no.... there was no want involved
he did hate it
rather liked it, too, damned musician's appreciation of fine sounds
but there was a good measure of hate just blistering somewhere way way waaay down deep in the mellow Ahroun - and why shouldn't there be? He's Garou. He's Gnawer. He's male. Those, and so many other reasons sum up to the fact that there's this festering seed rightfully and naturally nestled next to his powerfully beating heart, and all it's doing is waiting for the perfectly opportune moment to begin growing. That seed cracked open a while ago. Tiny tendrils of growth beginning to peek out. And then something stopped watering it. The growth stopped.
Seeing Missy..... the seed cracked open just a little more.oh, now that was a well thought out insult
she and the braying jackass of an irish setter should get together sometime
they'd like each other"Someplace you can tell me why that...... thing..... spooked you so much."
dreads rustle over his shoulders as head tips
already beginning the easy stroll down the way
at least he knows a place they can sit down(laz)
Teeth bit against her lower lip but she walked with him, more curious than any feline was wolf with shadowed soul. The moved together down the street as the wooden back of the guiatr balenced between slim shoulders and the leathered twin holsters that his beneath the sweatshirt at the base of her back."Where might that be?"
Fingers push sliding spectacles back up her nose and thoughtfully the wollen cap is tugged more firmly about her head.
(imogen)
A small part of her hungers to simply say no, just to have that small moment outside of anyone's presence, anyone Garou, anyone of the blood. Better sense prevails, however as she tilts her head slightly at him, sitting across the room from him. Him with his television flipping, and her with her files of blood and murder."Might be a good idea. If he knows 'er, and she's fang kin, he might be o' th'blood as well, right? You'd be better to see that, than me." One hand rubs absently at her left arm, against tattoo-brands and bruises.
(decker)
His eyes are on the TV. His eyes are on the screen, where world leaders were playing playground games with millions of lives at stake. His eyes are on the news, but - a sideways flicker of a glance, barely more than a blink - he knows where her hand is, what she rubs. Tattoos and bruises. Marked like cattle. "Sure?"
(james)
there's the breif consideration of the petty satisfaction that would come with making another comment related to up someone's ass
breif
it's scared away by the steady clink of the rebar sticks with each long stride
the percussionist and the guitarist
the drummer and the singer
the Gnawer and the Lord
both shadows of what they used to be"Motel nearby.... they don't seem to care when sit by the pool for a while to watch the stars."
that's because his packmates are paying customers
but he doesn't mention that"Makes it seem like they've more business, I suppose."
there's a few more blocks of silence save the unconscious rhthyms and ghost notes caused by the instruments they carry in their walk
a wrapped (there's still blood on those bandages) hand reaching to open the pool gate and let her in
(first.... even...... some habits never change)
the light's broken
so there's nothing marring the dark reflections on the water from the sky above
the stars that make it through the smog-choked city haze
the moon peering down from the everlasting darkness
and making himself at home on one of the broken deck chairsin plain sight from the window of room six-oh-nine
a part of him hopes they're back(imogen)
One knee pulls up to her chest, her arm draping easily around it, before answering him, taking her time to formulate her answer, explanations thought of, and discarded in quick succession. "Yeah. If I end up somehow stumbling over the fact he's of the blood, I'd probably end up trying to search someone out anyway. This way, we skip a step."Plain sight from the window of room six-oh-nine, the two sit, though her back faces the window. A wind presses against the glass with a creak of weather and worn sealant. A half glance over her shoulder, one that turns into a longer one as dark eyes catch sight of at least one of the loiterors, craning her neck slightly for a moment to see. "James is back," she notes, as her attention turns back to the fenrir in the room with her.
(laz)
Gate.
Blood on his hands.
Privacy."..Watchya wanna know?"
Fleeting impressions but no psychic leaps bubbled forth, just the flatness of three dimension. (..there was so much more than reality.) The reluctance of her steps is washed away by the plain sight of the moon, reassurance is her eye-contact with Luna's waning face.
"Leave the gate open."
A bit of quid pro quo.
( does it chafe, the easy way she issues orders?)(james)
there's a glance back as the gate swings closed on its child safety spring latch
... whoops
but a quick synopsis of the all off four foot high bar-rail fence surrounding them
he's sure she can scramble over it if for some reason she should feel the need
(She's a Lord, she can do anything she damn well pleases, can't she)and the sprawling lounge with crossed ankles on the deck chair with rebar sticks lain to the side
does it really look like he's going to try anything?blood on his knuckles
blood on the rebar
skin healed from where it split open beneath his fury and frustration"What that thing was. Why she spooked you into blessed silence. Why she sent chills up my spine."
for starters
(imogen)
"Damned if I know," she replies as her dark eyes flicker from James to the form of Lazarus, not bothering to mention her presence when Decker can so obviously see her.(laz)
Her shoulders stiffen as the latch swings shut eyes narrow before spectacles are slid away and into her the front pocket of her sweatshirt. That slanting gaze slides about them (Sure, when your six feet tall--)And with exhaltion she moves to the otherside of small space crouching there, a small shadowed form of limbs oand dlanting eyes."A trade then? Answer for an answer, a truth for a truth?"
(decker)
"Figgers she'd show up sooner or later," mutters Decker. He watches from the window for another minute or so, ringing his left wrist with his right fingers, rubbing slowly, absently. The frown continues to crease his brow. With the darkness outside and the room lights on inside, they could see him if they looked up, and he doesn't particularly care. Eventually, stepping back from the window, he whips his shirt off the back of her chair (the only one in the room, and it was doubling as his clotheshanger), shoves his feet into his shoes, and takes a few stamping steps to get the fit right.Without telling her to stay or follow, the Modi walks out the door and leaves it yawing open. She can hear his footsteps recede down the hall, where a door clangs open (the stairwell; why wait for the elevator when you can just walk?), then shut.
He trots down the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the confined space. It'll be another few minutes before he gets down to ground level.
(james)
if there was ever a look of eternal suffering for a cause.......
just martyr him now
do we have to keep with these infuriating games of who answers what and where and how"Sure thing."
just..... give in to her, Jamey-boy
play her little games
she'll be on her way home again all the faster(laz)
Eyes flicker to the approaching Get.
"God, I knew something smelled like shit--I just didn't the bullshit oozed this far from the traler park."Maybe sooner than you think.
"That your packmate?"Tension there was no love lost between this one and the approaching other. But she hadn't made a move to leave yet, muscles tense (..just on the cusp of--) waiting for there merest shift of of wind to make her goodbyes.
(imogen)
Her head turns to follow Decker with her eyes as he departs without a word staring at the left open door with a look of mild bemusement. "Who?" she inquires of the empty room, standing up and walking to the open door, and shutting it firmly.Alone, she glances around the ugly motel room, leaning up against the door, one hand lightly tapping against the cheap wood of the jamb.
(james)
there's a look
and it answers everything"I thought you'd be well aware bullshit can get up and walk anywhere it pleases."
You did left quite unsaid
but it's there. you know it is.
wait....
James? Swearing?
but then the Gnawer smiles, easy"You know, we'll never get anywhere if you keep avoiding my first questions, M'Lord"
he can sure make that word sound filthy
(decker)
The door to the stairwell clangs closed behind him with a sound that says it's locked. If he was going back in (if she was going to get away), that wasn't going to be an option.Coming toward his packmate and the Shadow Lord, Decker's gait is slow, swaying, swaggering, the usual. A lopsided smirk greets her insult. My, aren't we charming today; you'd think she'd been taking lessons at the Decker Rohl School of Etiquette. Lifting the hem of his shirt, he gives it an affect sniff, drops it.
"Funny." Close enough to stop now, he doesn't. It's another two steps before he does, and by then he's five inches away, and the height different is made obvious. He doesn't deign to bend his head to speak to her; his storm-grey gaze slips down from on high: not the arrogance of a Lord, but the easy contempt of a fighter who's yet to lose a fight.
"Didn't 'member you mindin' it so much the last we," eyes drop, slide, "met."
Histories. Sucked. Moving past, he drops onto the bench next to his packmate, and resumes chewing at his hangnail, listening.
(laz)
"Ask a specific question."She turns to james now looking him in eyes.
"Get a specific answer."
History...
(Yeah.)"Nah, I just nearly blew the brains from your skull--but then I realized I'd be wasting bullets."
Its was the sweetest most innocent smile yuo've ever seen.
(Being a Lord had its perks..only she wasn't. Really.)
(james)
he's not sure what is worse
that she's a Lord
or that she's coming of as plain stupid
he had asked threeonce again
"When we were on the street, not even an hour ago, just after you finished your song, there was a burnt girl that appeared out of nowhere and shocked you enough to rattle that high and mighty attitude into sheer silence, and affected me, a stranger to the entire situation, enough to be uneasy, generally confused, and spooked. Now if that is specific enough to pinpoint an event for you to answer, please, bestow the knowledge on me, to become even more specific..... who was that and what is her importance?"
please remember to answer in full and complete sentences
totalyl fill in the bubbles
number two pencils only
begin.... now(laz)
"She was an old packmate--from another life. If she was even there at all."Might have been anything. (You don't know Hematite like I do.) Might have been anything.
God, I hope so.
(decker)
His attention seemed to have been elsewhere - on the pool, blue and lit with underwater lights beneath its carpet of dead leaves. At the words addressed to him, the Modi gives his hangnail another rip, flicks the scrap of skin aside, and looks up.Shrugs.
You know. I know.And really, sometimes he'd rather forget. Keeping his silence, he flicks a glance to James, then up at the 6th floor window - not that he could see much from this distance - and just listens.
(imogen)
It's not long before she's come to a similar conclusion she has in the past, and is grabbing a jacket from the closet, and pulling open the door, scooping up keys and smokes in the process.As Decker glances up at the sixth floor window the light that had shown through cheap curtains extinguishes, and Imogen shuts the door behind her, shoving hands into suede jacket pockets, walking out into the hallway and toward the elevator.
(debastian damien miller)
...watching me, watching you...He stands with his back against the wall beside the elevator in the motel hallway; his shoulders rolled forward into a slump, his hands thrust deep down into the pockets of his long overcoat, his hair hanging loosely, spilling down over his shoulders almost to his waist.
(james)
after the returned glance
...... sometimes packmates don't need words.....
there's a bit of a nod
inner lower lip sucked in thought
old packmateslet's just not go there
he doesn't say much else though
quid pro quo
her turn(imogen)
That same motel hallway she walks down. Her stride pauses midmovement as she catches sight of the effeminate man standing by the elevator. Dark blue eyes disappear in a sharp succession of blinks, before she continues walking, glancing sideways at the man, without words, her hand reaching out to press the buttons of the elevator. Far too close to the stranger for her comfort, but the stubborn part of her refuses to turn around and take the stairs.(laz)
Discomfort reigns and she finally stands as Imogen makes her way down closer. Her head shakes and she pulls the spectacles out lifting it between her and the image of the approaching girl--"Who all is this pack"
Only steppenwulf can sneer like that over such a vaunted state of being, your priviledge is anothers burden.
(rune)
Rune exhales, cigarette smoke coiling like twin snakes from her nostrils, as she leans against dirty metal framing a pay phone at another anonymous highway rest area.Cursing under her breath, she fumbles through her pockets for change - a quarter, a dime, whoa, fifty cents? when the fuck did that happen another quarter, the dime fumbles to the wet, stinking asphalt.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
...or rather, not a ring. It rings on her end. On the other end, the midi like a virgin trills out, devoid of any musicality, just a series of annoying little beeps.
(SDM)
"I hope the little one is healing well from her late night encounter."It is hard to tell as the soft words fall almost like a whisper against her ears, if he is concerned or curious or merely being polite. A pale, long-fingered hand emerges from one of the longcoats pockets, running through his hair and pulling raven silk strands back from his boyish face.
"So much potential, so many burdens for one so young."
(decker)
Lights blink off just as he looks up. Odd.The Modi frowns, and this is what distracts him so that he misses Lazarus' question for a moment, until the ringing cell phone is thrust at him as James prepares to answer. Now his frown is turned to the little silvery contraption, which James might've figured out, but Decker was still new to. "Who all are you to ask, Lazarus? Yer on our turf."
Fortunately, that charming conversation ends there as his attention is again swept aside. Wonder what this button does...
Four or five pokes later (all the while Like a Virgin - ha! - rings), the call is finally on. He lifts it to his ear, standing up and moving away to hear better. Grunt: "Yeah?"
(imogen)
Standing at the elevator door, Imogen turns her head to glance at the boy-man before her, staring at him rudely, "I'm sure she's perfectly fine. What do you want?"
(james)
"Eagle's Chosen."clear and truthful enough
she didn't ask who was in it
just who they were, as a wholethough a brow lifts at the tune
hey, it still has battery power left!
but it's quickly handed over as the lanky Gnawer moves to sit up
figuring Decker'll have an easier time getting the thing to behave and answer than he will, anyway
(okay, he was wrong, and doing his best to keep his composure at the sight and sound)watching Lazarus
with those warm, brown, deep eyes
intently"Why did you look at her like she had come back from the dead?"
they've had enough problems with spirits lately
he wasn't about to walk into another one without any knowledge
he has reason enough to avoid the Lord
he's just looking for moreseriously. wicked. mojo.
(sbd)
"I'm curious about the other night. Nothing more, nothing less, Dr. Salughter."Oh creepy, the weirdo with a penchant for crouching on roof-tops knew her name. Although, maybe he just reads the newspaper, right?
"Don't worry, Dr. Slaughter. I don't bite. Besides..."
His eyes close slightly as she gives her the most breif once over she has probably ever been scrutinized by.
"You aren't my... type."
(run)
"I'm using a payphone." Rune mutters into the filthy plastic mouthpiece. "I had to get out of my car and use a fucking payphone.."She pauses, and exhales another cloud of smoke through her nostrils - rather like a cartoon bull - and continues. Such charm. "Now where the fuck are you?"
(imo)
Her hands brush against her thighs, discomforted by his scrutiny. He makes her skin crawl. Perhaps it's more than just 'preternatural' but something sends tiny creatures sputtering down her spine like cold water. Her jaw tightens, "Well, I'm relieved t'hear that. But you'll have to find someone else to tell you about the other night. I haven't got a bleedin' clue."(laz)
She spits."I was invited,(bitch.)"
Very few could get away with talking to Decker the way she did, she wasn't sure she was one of them. Eyes roll and the spectcles are opened once more settled onto the rounded features of her face, and tensed muscles move to a stand as the slender creature moves towards the gate, nible fingers sliging over the latch, as the gate easily creaks open.
"Did I?"
Mischivous grin.
"Think your barking up the wrong, ghost."
God, did she -have- to have a voice like that. The way it seemed to linger in thae air even in the silence of her parting. How it pulled even as acidic words pushed--people HATE for all kinds of reasons.
Chief among them, regret.
"Later, James."(decker)
"Uh," mutters Decker, counting minutes in his head, wondering just how slow a motel's crappy elevator could possibly be, "Green Harbor Motel. Like twenty blocks from yer house, on Ellingdale Street, 'round the corner from the 8-bus stop. Know the one?"(sbd)
"So you aren't in the same condition as your... friends?"Well, that was a polite and almost clinical way to ask. But it also gave the impression that he knew things. Knew secrets. Knew... stuff. When the elevator door opens he places his arm inside, as if holding a door open for a lady and waits for her to proceed him. Yes, it appears he was taking the ride downstairs with her.
"I'm not always want to take the hard way down." Is his only explanation should she even seem awry at the idea of sharing the elevator with him.
(rune)
"Got it." and the line goes dead. The handset is slammed with satisfying force back into its holder, and Rune heads back to her car.(james)
"Goodnight, Lazarus."smiled
so very easily
because even with that voice... that voice
did she have to have a voice like that?
for crying out loud.....
it would be so much easier to hate her as a whole if she wasn't such a damned pleasure to listen to
however
you'll note he makes no move to stop her
(good riddance)quietly watching as she moves away
you don't run from something
unless it scares you(decker)
Line goes dead. Phone makes that annoying loud beep-beep-beep in his ear just so he knew it was dead. Jerking it away from his sensitive hearing, Decker stifles a curse and turns just in time to see Lazarus saunter away."Charmin', ain't she?" he mutters - at James, presumably. Made him look good sometimes. "How'd she find you?" A pause. "Rune's comin' here."
(imogen)
A blank look, perfectly expressionless, "I don't know what you're talking about." She stares at him silently for a moment as he holds the elevator door open, "What, no leaping off tall buildings today?" sarcasm.A pause, a nervous tap of her fingers against her thigh. "I'll take the stairs, thank you." Turns on her heel and walks in the opposite direction.
(sbd)
"Excercise is always good for the body and soul."She turns on her heel and walks away from him. He lets his arm drop and the elevator doors slide closed once more. A moment of complete silence behind her, as if he was no longer there. Then the faint fall of footsteps following her towards the steps.
(judah rahotep)
I believe in…
I deceive in…
Bottom weaving…
I can breathe in ….The building is closer to the Casino ridden portions of New Jersey, on a block nestled with neat Condominiums and townhouses. The cars that line the streets are somewhat nicer, and the trash on the street is somewhat … less.
A new sign has just been erected above the three story brick building. It's quite plan, nothing gaudy or tacky, nothing too…flashy.
Cymaa.
No other words grace the white lit up sign.
Got a curse in…
Could be worse in…
You first…
In a hearse in…
Good as dead in…
Nothing left in….
Nothing left in….The music oozes from the as of yet unopened club…perhaps Management is simply…testing things before the doors open for business….
(imogen)
A glance over her shoulder half incredulous, the sound of a steel door creaking open, and starting to swing closed as her feet make soft clanging sounds down the stairs. Six floors later, and the steel door opens in the fenced in area, starting to fall shut behind her (though if Sebastian still follows her, it won't close completely before he reaches it), she glances with one hand down at her watch, frowning at the time. A muttered curse, as she closes the distance between James and Decker.
(james)
ever have a conversation that just leaves a bad taste in your mouth
the Gnawer looks like he was chewing on something rotten
he doesn't like her
and it shows"Charming..... but I'd expect better insults from her kind, best she could come up with was that I reeked of a tainted Get."
those eyes slide over
you can bet she meant you
makes one wonder
we all know the city taints us; the slums, the apathy, the anger, the smog, the desctruction, the vibe that hums here and coats us like oil tarnishing fur, clumping and coating it until all are lefts are itching, burning matts
i've got it
she's got it
wonder why she thought to point it out in you like it was something special
then his eyes drift back to what constellations he could see from here"She asked me for a light. We hit it off from there."
I won't back down.
especially.
not.
from youdoes it show he doesn't like her, yet?
"Apparently she thinks enough of this supposed board up my ass that acts as a suppository for delusions of grandeur that she keeps coming back around."
(laz)
(Dude, Somedays she could make the devil himself look good.)Things to do.
Things to do.She'd been busy these days, real busy and standing outside the motel she pauses briefly and as a bus turns she grabs onto the back and head twisting around its side watches the streets fly past.
Evetually She jumps off of Willoughby street and resecuring the Guitar at her back moves towards a certain club she stakes a few nights back. Did HE know he was being stalked, she's cautious just the same.
Posted by james at October 26, 2002 12:00 AM
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