October 26, 2002
.10.26.02. - quid pro quo [bastion-decker-rune] *njb

[cont'd from previous scene, beginning of new jersey's box storyline tie-in]


(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 you

does 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.

(sbd)
As the door at the bottom of the sixth floor leading into the fence in area starts to almost fall completely closed a hand, pale against the metal, wraps fingers around the edge and it is pushed open again to allow him exit into the good Doctor's destination.

Save for who he was and whom he exited the building after, he could have been just another motel patron going for a late night walk. He pauses as the door closes behind him, unmoving, as if waiting before sliding his hands back into the black longcoat's pockets when the door gives an audible 'click'.

Then he proceeds to move in the dirction that Imogen herself was walking in. Casual. Calm. Easy, breezy.

(decker)
Decker whirls on James, squinting, scowling, incredulous. "Bitch called me tainted?" That's it. They were going to have issues. Repeated, an extra stress flipping it on its head, "Bitch called me tainted?"

He'd say more - or rather, perhaps he'd charge after Lazarus and settle it the only way he knew how - but the clang from six floors above catches his attention. Craning his neck to look up, the set of his shoulders relaxes. There she is. He was starting to get (ready to break some shit) a little bit concerned.

Then - tension, again. Holding the phone absently out to James, he points his chin at the youth following Imogen. "Guy I told you about."

Soon as James has the phone, Decker starts toward the stairs

(judah)

I believe in people lying…
I believe in people dying…
I believe in people trying…
I believe in people crying…

The music is somewhat gothic, and would almost seem generic and plastic if it weren't for the underlying meaning beneath the lyrics. There is but one window in the front of the building, which sits neatly on the corner of the block, and the glass is black. The door is large, black, with one singular peephole.

Closer closer and closer and still … etched neatly into the Onyx seeming glass are hieroglyphs…and Arabic words in a such a way that you can only see them if the light hits them just …so….

..it could make you dizzy just looking at.


(james)
he's amazingly calm face with the whirl
that settled that, now didn't it
shrugging muscle
she said it, man, I didn't

and while the Fenrir jumps up (to the rescue!) and heads towards the stairs
the Gnawer remains where he is
relaxed
at ease
rid of the damned Lord
finally shifting to the point that he's sitting up, crosslegged, idly unwrapping the (bloody, torn, smashed) rags from around his hands

oh yea, he's keeping an eye on his packmate..... and this graceful fellow


(rune)
Five minutes, ten minutes later - the familiar purr of the Z3 in the lot. The finish shines from a recent waxing, and the leather interior - recently reupholstered by the local dealer - smells rich and fresh and new, untainted by the smoke that has wreathed itself through her hair, settled amongst her clothes, become the ashy undertone to her personal scent.

The car door not-quite-slammed shut, the familiar clatter of heels on asphalt, the usual. Dark hair swings down and across the high curve of pale cheeks, dark eyes flicker contemptuously over the ugly, post-industrial sprawl, the inevitably boxy interstate architecture of the cheap motel. The brief tug of awareness draws her attention, and she stalks past the lobby with a spare glance for the shag carpet and avocado walls - 70s chic, classy - and no more.

The gate clatters open. Rune stalks in and crouches - precariously on her heels - a few feet from James, holding out a bored hand for her cell.

(laz)
Shiver.
('You run from what you fear.')
True'er words were never written

The delicate wire rims of her spectacles glint as she stares at the (dizzying) door. Small hands tighten about the strap that stetches across the front of her upperbody. They say hesitation is the mark of the weak--

no wonder they're a dying breed.

(imogen)
"Look who I found," noted dully as she glances over her shoulder where Sebastian still follows.

A hand drags through her hair, dark eyes flickering toward Rune as before starting to walk toward the gate, and the parking lot beyond.
ooc : Err.. .Okay. (sighs)

"... dark eyes flickering toward Rune, before she starts to walk past the gathered Garou and toward the gate. The parking lot beyond."

(sbd)
...watch me, watch you...

Silence. A stillness surrounds him like a blanket as he crosses the fenced area, following in Imogen's footsteps, but two meters behind.

(decker)
Decker to the rescue? Well, it could be worse. Could be kicking down the bathroom door and ripping the curtain off its hoops to expose an imaginary Asher. He grunts as she passes him, barely flicking a glance at her before his attention lances toward Sebastian.

Pretty boy. Decker didn't happen to like pretty boys (hittin' on his woman!? - ahem.); Decker didn't happen to like most everyone. He starts back a step or two, but his eyes - grey, hard - don't leave the longhaired youth as he passes the Modi, following Imogen.

He doesn't say anything in the end. Just turns on his heel and, with a silent nod up for Rune, follows the leader.

Imogen, Sebastian, Decker. This oughta be good.

(juadh)
…protect thee with this flame. I force thy foe away from the valley of the tomb. I cast the sand about thy feet. I embrace Seline, whose word is truth, in peace…

Over and over and over those words repeat themselves, etched on the black window like a skipping record. Their meaning hidden to only those familiar with the Arabic dialect.

The music smacks Lazarus in the face, and it opens freely….no one greets her…or rushes to halt her progress….but the grandeur inside….

Oh sweet mother…


(james)
it's not until one hand is unbound
ripped fabric tossed dropped into a pile in his lap
knuckles flexed
those healed nicely
then he reaches to hold the little virginal phone to the crouching Garou

"Evening Rune."

look! we didn't break it!
moving to unwrap the other hand
watching Imogen float on by
then back to pretty boy over there
as he floats on past
oh, and Decker too

fried rat

those eyes glance to Rune
holding a moment
might as well join the fun
a bit of a smile beneath the dreadlock frame

"Hey, excuse me, sir?"

obviously not calling out after Imogen
and obviously not referring to Decker
yep, must be the clean one

(sbd)
He pauses one meter to one side of Decker, ceasing his following gait of the good Doctor Slaughter. Dark, long-lashed eyes are on the back of Imogen's head as she leaves the scene, but it is obvious he speaks for Decker's ears.

"I have no interest in that manner in the good doctor."

If you have seen heated jealousy inspiring anger once, you have seen it a thousand times.

(laz)
And the line of her form disappears into the darkness within. Just another opening club (Jersey's been in a boom after 9/11.) Why wouldn't the sleek female go inside? Perhaps it was chance, certain coincidence that she would pick this place, this time--

Course in WOD there's no such thing as coincidences.

(decker)
Sebastian stops. So does Decker.
Both of them, so contrasted - one so slim and graceful, the other brooding, powerful at the shoulder and lean at the hip - look after Imogen for the space of a second. Five.

Then, slow and lazy, Decker turns. Strolls over to Sebastian. A meter becomes half, becomes thirty centimeters, becomes ten. The Modi is close enough that his rage makes it difficult to breathe - that is...if Sebastian breathed; that it lights each inhale on fire.

The youth can look where he pleases. The Modi looks at him.
And his eyes burn. like. coals.

"Don't be interested at all."

(judah)
What is that she's walking on? Grainy…odd…looking beneath her feet she'd see that the concrete floor is littered with a dusting of fine sand. The entirety of the club is done with an Egyptian motif….

A huge, sleek Anubis stands tall in one corner of the dark club. It's skin is so dark…so..smooth…it seems far too lovely to not be…real?

There are perhaps 8 girls at a table, all lovely in their own right, speaking to a man that must be the manager…but it's not who Lazarus seeks…no…he's…

"…I wondered…when you might actually come in…"

The lights are soft…like fading sunlight…and they cast odd shifting shadows over his nicely sculpted face. The music is so loud…she might not have heard him had he not whispered so close and so…firmly…near her ear.

(sbd)
"In all actuality, it's you I'm interested in."

He hardly looks intimidated, as one might expect considering the size different between the two - no doubt in both height, build and weight. His calm demeanor is almost like a wet blanket thrown over the fun of being angry and threatening. Water over stone.

Although, it was disturbing enough - his words to the larger male. Effeminate, gothic almost... hell, could he by gay?

(imogen)
This is beyond absurd.

James speaks to Sabastian, and Sebastian speaks to Decker. She turns at the gate, hand resting on the top-most bar. Decker stands off with the effeminate freak.

(decker)
Just silence. Cold silence.

He doesn't move away, though. Must be waiting for Sebastian to elaborate.


(james)
okay, ignored is one thing

but growing up in the city
one becomes used to its sounds
and how to hear over them
so past the cars in the road
past the trains far off in the distance
past the incessant buzz of electricity
he hears something

"In all actuality, it's you I'm interested in."

considering Decker
and their luck
that's wrong six ways from Sunday
another glance to Rune
this actually gets the lanky raggedyman to stand up
casually strolling up to Decker's side
casually unwrapping the other hand
rebar clinks in its sling

(rune)
"Evenin'" - brief, the greeting. Pale fingers curve protectively over the slim plastic phone, and she slips it into her back pocket as she rises easily from her crouch. Two steps back, and she's leaning against the retaining wall. Rune's gaze shifts over the back of the motel - the security camera mounted at the entrance to the stairs, the flood lights spilling over the pool, which steams in the chill air, creating its own chlorine-tainted fog.

(sbd)
"Curiosity binds people together as the strangest bedfellows."

A very faint, almost sad smile with his head tilted upwards to look at Decker, face to face. If he hadn't had such a soft, nuetral tone to his voice, that would have sounded stranger than it already did coming from his delicately thin lips.

(laz)
"Confidence."

Her chin lifts a bit as the breathe of his voice lingers against the collar of her swear shirt. She didn't have to look to know he would be impeccably dressed, egyptian cotton, purest silk--sharp contrast to her unmarked grey hoodie and the drawstring pants that hung from her form. (Oh, she never failed to unimpress.)

Her head twist to that ear is at most effective angle--though she does not turn towards him.

"--do you also know why I came?"
(..keep your wits about you, girl.)

(decker)
"I don't got time fer yer riddles," the words are low, nearly a growl, "and don't ignore my friend when he's speakin' to you."

That would be James. And that fixed things nicely, didn't it? Turning away, Decker follows Imogen out to her car, and doesn't look back.

(imogen)
Decker starts to walk toward the gate and her again, and she turns, pushing the gate open and walking out to the SUV, wordless. A chirp of an alarm, a click of locks, and she slides inside. As Decker gets in the passenger side, she turns the key in the ignition, starting the vehicle.

(sbd)
A dark eyebrow arches at Decker's reply and he bows his head in a courtly manner of bygone millenium, stepping out of the way of the other young man. He turns slowly in a half cirlce without taking a step to either side, merely a pivot on one booted foot. His longcoat flares around his legs, then settles again. He raises a fine-boned, pale hand and smoothes several long wisps of raven hair back from his face.

"My apologies."

This was now obviously directed to James as he spreads his hands out on either side of him, giving the dread-locked youth a half-bow from the waist.

(judah)
A dark eyebrow arches at Decker's reply and he bows his head in a courtly manner of bygone millenium, stepping out of the way of the other young man. He turns slowly in a half cirlce without taking a step to either side, merely a pivot on one booted foot. His longcoat flares around his legs, then settles again. He raises a fine-boned, pale hand and smoothes several long wisps of raven hair back from his face.

"My apologies."

This was now obviously directed to James as he spreads his hands out on either side of him, giving the dread-locked youth a half-bow from the waist.

(james)
a brow lifts
half bow
cute.

two men
one with whisped raven locks - one with ragged light brown dreadlocks
one with crisply flared black coat - one with pathwork tatters barely threaded together
one with fine hands, delicate and pale - the other with knuckles busted open from boxing
one effeminate, clean, and proper - one rugged, brawly.... yet mannered

if Decker and Sebastian were a standing contradiction, we've now moved right on into a comedy of errors

"No worries, I understand you were preoccupied."

smiled, easy, even warm

"You're the one that knew about the rats, aren't you."

(judah)
Decker starts to walk toward the gate and her again, and she turns, pushing the gate open and walking out to the SUV, wordless. A chirp of an alarm, a click of locks, and she slides inside. As Decker gets in the passenger side, she turns the key in the ignition, starting the vehicle.

(laz)
She remembers.

History reels behind her eyelids and moves with him (... this time does not exist; I am not me.) She shift the guitar coming down hard on his wrist though her head dips to readjust her spectacles. [You will always be ou.] Apparently unaway of the sudden thrust of musical intrument that allowed her a disconnection.

Deeper.
A person could get lost.
--and deeper still.

Likely they were in the back of the club before they reach his (reserved, owner's.) table. the Guitar settled beside her as the waifish creature rubs her face with her hands and leans back against the seat. She wouldn't come to him, she wouldn't but she couldn't think of anyone better.

The urchin never settled.
(..contradiction? You have no idea.)

(sbd)
"I know something of the unnatural distrubance, that is quite true."

He gestures with uncanny grace towards one of the rather delapidated tables settings around the pool, raising his eyebrows in a silent query as to whether or not James wished to sit.

(judah)
One might of expected the neatly dressed dusky skinned man to wince in pain, or perhaps curse the waifish young female for her actions…Judah, however, only smiles and slips his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks.

To the back table they go…and he sits once Lazarus is comfortable, his hands fold neatly on the marble table before them…exquisite.

"…to what do I owe this pleasure…?"

A brow arches and the distant sands of millennia ago are forgotten…for the nonce.


(james)
the Frankenweiler's be praised
at least he knows his ropes around the courtly
chin dropping in a nod

certainly

easily sliding into one of the chairs and waiting for Sebastian to join him before carrying on

"I'm sure it seems a question out of the blue, but, what will you tell me of it?"

inhaling deep (Lily of the Valley?)
senses on edge

(sdb)
The waifish, effeminate dark young man folds himself neatly and comfortably in a chair beside James and looks at the young man with sad, lonely dark eyes encased in darker lashes and smiles with equal sadness. Waist-length raven hair slides over one shoulder like a spill of black water, shining against the matte-black of his longcoat lapel.

"Ask your questions and I will endeavor to answer them."

(james)
there's something in that melancholy
there's something in that sadness
there's something in that...... need....... that calls to him

that's the hard part about being a Hood
seems everyone needs something, doesn't it?

"First. What will you ask in return.... and how do I know you won't mislead me?"

(laz)
"I need somesthing--"

Slanting eyes flicker toward him, all the more intent behind the spectacles that seperate thier locking gaze. Nervously toung slides iver her lips and she leans forward on the table, fingers picking ar its surface even as she speaks and then back up to him.

" your help, Judah."

(rune)
Rune remains slouched against the concrete retaining wall, dark gaze settled on the pair seated beside the pool. The whole scene has the ridiculous gravity of a low-rent noir film - the seedy hotel, the concrete loops of highways in the distance, the dull orange glow of the impenetrable sub-urban sky.

And the players, of course: Sebastian, an extra from a Byron biopic; James, easygoing and urban, the rebar and dreadlocks; Rune - straight out of Vogue, with a side-order of Ms. Magazine.

Bored, she allows her gaze to flicker down, and inspects her nails.

(seb)
He turns his head, the only movement coming from his remarkably still frame and his dark eyes wander towards Rune. He blinks ever so slowly, his long dark lashes fanning out across his pale cheeks, before he cants his head very slightly to one side.

"Do you wish for your companion to join us?"

It was the polite thing to ask; to not leave a lady standing on her own. It seemed that in some small dark places chivarly was still alive.

judah)
Dark hair that seems like implanted tendrils of perfect noire silk caress his cheek and jaw nicely as he tilts his head (cat watching a mouse..) allowing her words a moment to sink in…

"…with…?"

(sdm)
He blinks again slowly, turning his face back towards James with agonizing slowness. There was no rush. Sometimes you needed to just stop and smell the roses. They had all the time in the world.

"Firstly, I am, in my own way, as curious as you appear to be in the phenomenon. A good mystery is something we all need, every once in awhile..."

His head tilts slightly to the other side as he contemplates the second question before another wisp of a sad smile.

"You don't, but on that same token, I could ask the very same of yourself."


(james)
oh, well, of course
he figured Rune would just invite herself in if she deemed it worthy of....
oh
.... no... that's Decker
a hand reaches out to drag a chair in silent (and sheepish) offer

good one James
forget your superior
this will leave a mark

though he doesn't quite move on in the conversation just yet
you just don't move on to product until you know what you're bartering with
and Gnawer knows that
doing elsewise... well... could leave a bigger mark
nodding a bit as he listens to the rest
though it brings a soft laugh

"Well, considering I'll be the one asking mostly questions, I don't think there's much information I can offer that would lead you astray or otherwise, althought I understand your concern. Just like you, I'm curious."

he just knows you have to pay for knowledge
and he's wondering just how he'll have to pay for it

(laz)
"Getting--"

Oh, how to phrase this.

She was sure he was enjoying this. Somehow in the back of her mind she was enjoying him, enjoying himself watching her squirm--such is the way of empaths. Oh course she doesn't (squirm exactly, not quite.)twist now. Merely meets his gaze straight on. In the manner of exiled royalty--

I walk the street-I am not of the streets.

"--into a certain address, without being noticed."

(judah)
He nods slowly, his hair sits firmly in place. One finger lifts and he brushes it lazily against the fullness of his lips. Contemplation dances across his exotic features …

"…for financial gain…or..?" An elbow rests on the arm of the chair he sits in, and his fingers brace his chin comfortably. "…I do not wish to know your affairs…in detail…however the purpose would be a great aide in making my decision…"


(laz)
Out of friendship would be asking too much, huh?

Lips twist, and she rubs her face one more. In that brief moment she seems exhausted, where had she been, did it really matter anyway? The creature had practically shown up on his doorstep like a beggar. (..things are never as they appear..)And digging around in her pocket she switches to their native tongue--her voice making music of rarely heard syllables.

"Its regarding the missing girl posters you've seen about town."

She didn't mince words.
They both knew the value of information.

(seb)
"I have questions of my own, things that have piqued my interest, if nothing else. We both have much to gain or loose, depending on the answers given."

Sitting in his stillness it is unnatural. People fidget. They have unconscious little habits, twitches, movements, things that they do. People were contained energy and that energy needed to be feeded into something, even when sitting, relazed by a pool conversing with one another.

Lily of the Valley and stillness.

"I have no illusions as to what you would or would not have to offer. I ask for nothing outside your own, singular abilities, however much this may be a... group... effort on your part."

(jud)
Another nod.

"…tell me what it is I can do for you my Queen…" The chair creaks slightly beneath his fair weight, faint protest to the man seated upon it. His hands cross over his taught, thin stomach.

The girls are done, the conversation is ended between the man (dusky skinned…like Judah) and women…the fairer of the sex stands to go.

(run)
The shake of her head, the shift and sway of dark-stained hair over pale cheeks, the purse of blood-red (painted) lips: James' response, this strangely gentle, but quite clear no.

She does shift closer. She does walk/stalk/stride/ooze closer until she is once more slouched against the retaining wall, though this time only a few feet away from them. The heels of her wicked shoes sink a millimeter or three into the muddy turf of a thin strip of brownish grass, but she doesn't bitch about it, not at all. Unusual, that. She hates mud, and grass and dirt. She loves her clothes, and her car, and all her creature comforts, but a man - lily of the valley? the scent is far too blooming sweet for her taste - is seated with her packmate, and she does not trust him, and thus she does not shift away.


(james)
stillness, so very unnatural
breaths, so. very. slow.
sort've like the original Dracula movie
so. draggingly. dramatically. slow
well.... this guy does seem to look the part
welcome, Lord Byron, to our humble abode
has Poligari writ your tome?

nah.... couldn't be

must be cause Halloween's coming up
guy's getting ready early
and the Gnawer is just getting spooked

"Go on. I can't guarantee anything on behalf of the group, but I'm willing to work for the payout."

he's really glad Rune is still nearby
Ahroun or not
backup is good when you're walking into what looks to be a very, very dark tunnel
and he's trying so damn hard to find the light and see the way
he'll do what it takes
(I. wont. back. down.)

(laz)
"The question is.."

Eyes lower as the sounds (like flutes and and the low beating of drums--the shift of the sands beneath their feet.) of lyrical words pour between them. Folded paper and a cack of ciggarettes is produced on its edge in the same fluid script as the letters printed on the door words are written.

From the number a line is drawn, with the name of a township in New Jersey. But her left hand points to the hastily scribbled address at the corner.

[420 Park Avenue: Relative?]

" ...what favors the king might whisper as well."

She's a Lord, what do you want?

"I'm not even sure this adress will pan out, or what it is I'm looking for but its the only lead I have right now--I'd prefer to go about this with as much discretion as possible. No need to call the attention of anyone--much less this one."

She indicated the phone number listed on flyer.

(seb)
"There is a little one..."

His voice is soft to the ears, carressing the senses in ways that could be seen as just wrong between a man speaking to another man, but it merely seemed his way. His way of speaking to anyone he took the time to converse with for any length.

"Who was injured a night ago; turned partially, it would seem, to stone. I will ask about that night. Do you agree to this?"

(rune)
The wind rises, and with it the stink of half-rotting garbage in the dumpster behind the motel. At least it clears her senses of the cloying sweetness of the man's scent even as it clogs them with another sweetness, just as rotten.

Rune opens a new pack of cigarettes and pulls back the gold foil, then selects one - the paper purple as a new-made bruise - before offering the pack around. The cigarettes are tucked so neatly together in the gold foil, marching in their bright wrappers like candy-things, hot pink and bright sunny yellow, neon green and caribbean blue.


(james)
well, it would depend on the man, wouldn't it
whatever type of man the Ahroun is
it doesn't bother him

if that's your way, it's cool with me

"Yes. I was not there, but I will tell you what I can, and in exchange you tell me about the rats."

a glance to Rune
a pause in grasping the pack, but passing it along
(I'm not sure I know what I'm doing anymore, I don't know what I'm dealing with, I'm sorry if I mess things up)


(james)
"If it is a relative there must be pictures or some sign of the girl. Especially if she is -indeed- missing. Phone records, post, bills--all might be helpful."

Her gaze is intent on him, flickers only briefly to the other slim shoulders only tensing fractionally. As amber hhued gaze slides to the other native, funny how how people of like descent banded together--its seemed briefly tribal.

Ciggareete let she curls into her seat relaxing at Judah's distracted attention--taking the moment to truly take in the spectacle of the club.

(seb)
"As you wish."

He takes the pack from James when offered, keeping his fingers meticulously away from that of the youth with dread-locks it seems a strange contrast to the rest of his actions. Perhaps he just has issues with being touched. Some people do, you know. He removes one of carribean blue before he offers the pack graciously back to Rune with a faint inclination of his head in thanks for her offering.

"I assume that you and your companions are of the same condition as the little one?"

He looks down at the carribean blue cigarette resting horizontally in his palm of one hand and slowly closes his fingers around the the entire thing before looking back up at James and blinking ever so slowly, as if flaunting long dark lashes against his pale skin.

"To say, that is, that you are of a remarkably preternatural disposition?"

(judah)
And a spectacle it is.

No expense was spared. The colours of the club are black and gold, and the tables are dark marble that come up from the floor and seem almost like altars of some sort.

There are a few centerpieces on other tables, floating candles in stone bowls of water, scarab style ashtrays. There is a stage, a DJ booth that seems like some sort of temple…somehow, Judah has managed to pull all of it off without seeming tacky…amazing.

Above them, on the ceiling, are the constellation's painted in glowing paint…glittering in the dim light. Clouds are painted in dark blues and greys and it makes the whole main area seem…open.

"…I will do what I can…" He nods, affirmative.

(laz)
Its actually, breathtaking.

Her eyes close against it against the raw opulence, the slinking seduction of finery. (Where you go--these things would never follow, Laz.) Her eyes are focused on Judah now his nod calms her, for her own reasons she trusted him.

More the fool was she.
"..and your price?"

(judah)
"Ah…there is that, is there not? Always a price…" He fingers the paper delicately, treating it as if it were a rare artifact of some sort. Eyes lift slowly and rest squarely on Lazarus. "…this debt we will keep between us…one day I will have need of you…"

A pause. The other dusky skinned man nods to Jude and then moves up the winding staircase to the upper floor (yes…there is more..). "Do you like my…business?"

Deal made, next subject, moving along.

(james)
his head tilts
dreadlocks spilling

"That would be an assumption, yes."

grinning at Rune
100% organic and na-choo-rul
Gaia's own
Eagle's chosen
you don't get much more natural than that


(seb)
He takes a slow deep breath and then blows on the flame emitted from her lighter. He shakes his head sadly from side to side, another forlorn smile touching his lips. Perhaps the sadness, now, comes from her words... or something else entirely they know nothing about.

"I'm fine for now, thank you, though."

He shifts his gaze back to James, with whom this conversational information was being bartered.

"I see." A pause of silence that seems to stretch an eternity. Forever is no distane at all...

"Now you may start with asking one question of your own."

(laz)
She nods.

Such is the way things were done. Moving on her eyes fix on his image as if feasting on the symmetrical lines of his face, drinking in the dusky hues of his skin. Another drag of the stog and it is ashed almost lazily as she leans back.

"Its lovely..but you already know this."

(james)
he just watches
genuinely curious about this strange, mysterious man
maybe it shows, in some ways, how young he really is
so very carefully choosing his question to make it count

he has been granted the time and attention, he is not going to waste it

"You had said to someone that something did not want the rats looking around.... why are they being driven away?"

(jud)
"I…like it.." He smiles beautifully a Cheshire cat grin, and taps a finger quite lazily on the arm of the chair. "…have you found a place to live yet…?" Ever the curious one, Judah now settles for staring quite openly at Lazarus, which is entertaining none the less.

(rune)
Brows arch - amused - in James' direction, and her shoulders rise and fall in an eloquent shrug. Smooth as silk, the motion, easy as cherry pie, and ripe with apparent unconcern.

Her hand slides back into her pocket, stowing the still-warm lighter beneath the folded leather, then reemerges.

Dark eyes - jaded and brittle, such sharp contrast to James' eager youth - settle again on Sebastian, and remain. Somehow that look does not feel heavy - at all. Somehow that glance seems light as a feather.

(seb)
"Because he who has the secrets has the power to make it so."

He lifts a hand from his hand and runs it through a slither of raven hair, his fingers sliding through it like they traversed through a gathering of live shadows.

(laz)
She chuckles.
(...did heaven ring with her laughter--it should.)

"Does the devil offer safe haven?"

Something in her voice, not quite believing those words. (Hers or His it is unclear..)What is clear is that his direct gaze DOES in fact make her uncomfortable in the same ways it always did--another slow drag of the ciggarette and she examines the ashtray instead. Fingers slide ofver the lines of the scarab.

(james)
there's.... soft chuckle
this guy is as forthcoming as Lazarus
little more specific this time
and let's see if we can get past two questions

"Seems reason enough."

the ball back in Sebastian's court

(web)
"What manner of creature caused the remarkably psuedo-Medusa effect on the little one?"

The stillness clung to him like a second skin, completely at odds with the small movement, small gestures of his two conversation partners.

(rune)
Slouched as she is, it's hard to tell that Rune is suddenly two and a half inches shorter: 5'10" instead of six feet plus.

It's true, though: she's slipped her feet from the torturous Mahnolo Blahniks, and her toes are sinking into the browning turf. (They probably hurt her feet, nothing more. Nothing more.)

Another question - she shorts, smoke spilling from her nostrils. The two strands join together, and the gray cloud joins the offwhite chlorine fog rolling from the gleaming blue pool. Her eyes stray from the pair and wander over the dull structure of the motel, searching for prying eyes, others, allies, friends, fiends - and settle again on the little camera feeding the scene back into the lobby, judging the distance.

Close enough, she thinks, and shifts her attention back to Sebastian, back to James. Her brows - plucked into a fine, attractive arch - rise briefly in silent communication. Her patience is running out.

(james)
a moment of thought
searching for the simplest of terms

"A pattern spider."

he catches the tiny, immaculate sound
glancing up
he knows, dammit, he knows
but he has to play this game so very carefully

"For what reason does he who has the secrets and power to make it so drive away the rats, what is he preventing them from finding?"

(seb)
"I do not know what he is hiding, I am merely aware that there is most definately something there to be hidden."

He seems to either not notice the change in Rune's temprement or he is unconcerned with it. At best, now, she is excluded from the conversation. A mere bystander watching as the world dances its intricate little pattern before her eyes.

(seb)
He's left a long silence between his answer and his question. Where there was nothing but the sounds of the night mingled with that of their breathing.

"And what manner of creature is this pattern spider?"

(rune)
One more drag, another glance. The camera stops. Dead. The film putters out, the battery dies, the connection fizzles - something. Does it matter?

The flicker of pale fingers, casual, and the still smoldering cigarette tumbles end over end over end. With all that long, black hair, it's hard to imagine how it misses (barely) setting Sebastian ablaze.

"An arachnid: an eight-legged creature that spins webs," Rune replies from just beyond them. "I'm sure you've heard of them. Some people have phobias, but you don't seem like the type.

"My turn. Who is the person you're babbling about without mentioning, like some second-rate sphinx?" And the other question, unspoken but still vibrant in the air: why shouldn't I just kill you now?

Full-blooded full-moons. It all comes down to violence in the end.

(james)
oh good, we've made it to three, now
well.... we had made it to three
and once Rune steps in
James shuts down

she's his superior
and the Gnawer quiets
wondering in a way
has he only lost his turn
or did they lose the game when he was just starting to get the hang of the rules

(seb)
For all the world he seems to ignore Rune's pithy commentary and questions, his dark, dark eyes remaining solely on James as if he was the only one that existed, here and now, in this conversation. After all, the agreement of questions and answers had been only between himself and James. No one else.

He did, however, break the stillness of his perching to lift one slender hand and brush several specks of ash, loosened from the cigarette sent spiralling, from his hair.

And he just waits for James to answer.

(rune)

(james)
"It's....."

a heartbeat flashes
she questions, he should wait until her question is answered
but he knows her question won't be answered
and who's wrath will be worse
man he feels like he's speaking out of line and turn
but does it anyway

".... it's a spider that inhabits the spirit world. I don't know very much else about them."

again, the deflected glance
Rune
Sebastian
and...... oddly..... down
think James think

"Even though you do not know what is is that he who has the power and secrets to do so hides, what is the reason he chooses to hide it from us so that we will not find it?"

(seb)
"I am under the impression from my observation of the phenomena, that the actions of this person are not specifically directed at yourselves, as people, but other less open targets. You have merely unwittingly stumbled upon his secret adn therefore have the oppotunity to unveil that secret should you so choose."

Stillness, silence, a pause before he asks his own question.

"Will the little one return to full health, given time?"

(james)
"Yes."

there's a slow nod
thoughtfully nibbling his lower lip
a glance begging Rune for more time
dead.... whatever he is.... is a useless whatever he is

"If we so choose to take the opportunity to unveil his secret, what are the less open targets he has chosen to direct his actions towards?"

(seb)
"He dislikes the prying eyes of the sewers; it is those shadows that he wishes to keep at bay."

He again lifts a hand to slide tendrils of dark hair out of his eyes as he gazes unnervingly, unwaveringly at James.

"Dr. Slaughter is not of the same condition as yourself, but she is aware and in someway tied to it?"

(james)
"Dr. Slaughter does not fall within the specifications you set forth within the original bargain perameters and it is not my place to answer personal questions about her. You may ask her those yourself."

he's getting the hang of it

"What is the reason he dislikes the prying eyes of the sewers?"

(decker)
...and the silver SUV, a few hours after it left, returns to the motel parking lot. The night is wearing on; it's past 1am. For the first time tonight, at least.

The drive back was, as usual, quiet. Each lost in their own thoughts, impenetrable and non-intersecting bubbles of silence surrounded them.

The lights of the parking lot glint off the hood of the SUV as she pulls into a space. In this glow, the color of the car is closer to ochre, and so is the color of their skin. Just before he gets out, he comments, "Murph was yer tribesmate, too."

Given the state of the man, it didn't seem to matter that much. Yet, anyway.

(seb)
"They steal his secrets, keeping them for themselves."

He pauses again, perhaps now only to annoy Rune, but he has done it every time in the past before asking his question.

"The little one is priviledged to have access to regenerative abilities, so as to heal the damage inflicted upon her?"

(james)
"Of course, all living beings have regenerative abilities, it's basic cell structure and performance."

smiled
he knows his biology

"What is the true name of he, that the rats steal the secrets from to keep for themselves?"

(imo)
Her fingers raise to press against the bridge of her nose as if to relieve a headache, as she nods slightly, acknowledging Decker's statement before turning and exiting the SUV, closing the door behind her with a thunk. A click of locks, a chirp of an alarm, and she shoves the keys back into her pocket, "S'what I thought," was afraid of, perhaps. Though any chance of her being able to hide from the Garou Nation has gone to pot, unless she moves, still, it seems, avoiding her tribe is important.

A cigarette pack is pulled from her jacket pocket and a cancer stick tapped out, along with a lighter. Flame flickers as she thumbs the wheel, setting the cigarette between her lips and lighting up. Everything replaced into the pockets of her jacket, half turning to look at where the trio are by the pool exactly where they'd been a few hours before.

(seb)
"Of that you would need to ask the holder of that true name, for that is something I am not privy to."

His head turns ever so slowly to look at the SUV across the long way as it pulls into the motel's parking lot. Just as slowly he lokos back to James and continues this game of questions and answers.

"You answered true to my last question and from there I will elaborate; does she pocess the ability to recuperate from the injuries inflicted by the pattern spider in a manner that would be considered miraculous to those who were actually of full human parenatge?"

(decker)
Decker's gaze follows Imogen's to his two packmates...and Sebastian. Wonderful. Just wonderful.

The thuggish Modi tugs his shirt down in the back, where it had ridden up during the drive. "Must be some conversation," he comments, low, "keep 'em talkin' that long." Then, hands in his pockets, he motions at her cigarette with an elbow. "Bum one?"

(imogen)
She keeps the cigarette between her lips as she reaches into her jacket pocket again and pulls out the packet, offering it to him. "He was askin' me about what happened last night," speaking around the fag, voice low as his. "Curious little fucker."

(james)
"I do not know, her recovery exsists in the present, it did not happen that night."

a pause
once more
carefully phrasing

"Where will I find the holder of that true name, the one the rats steal the secrets from and keep for themselves?"

(decker)
He takes the cigarette out of her hand with his teeth, grunts a thanks, feels around for his matches while he walks toward the low, swinging gate to the pool. Takes his time. Halfway there he finds his matchbox and shakes one out - oldfashioned types, strike anywhere. He liked 'em better like that.

"Yeah?" Frowning. "Gettin' just a l'il sick of him pokin' his pretty nose around my pack's shit."

No one would call Decker graceful, but the easy, lazy gesture with which he strikes the match on the bottom of his shoe is close to that. Standing still, he lights up, shakes the match out, drops it, and doesn't move forward just yet.

"What'd he ask you, 'zactly?"

(seb)
"He is where ever he chooses to be. I am no man's keeper."

His lips turn slowly into something akin to a smile again and he tilts his head to one side, raising an eyebrow at James. He seems to be contemplating the other youth for some time before he speaks again.

"Her recovery started last night, as stated by the man who bore her away to the wild place, therefore does not make question redundant and outside of the parameters of our agreement."

(imo)
She exhales grey smoke half turning her head away before turning back to look at him, answering his question. "Asked me how Nova was doing. Whether or not she'd be okay. He said he was interested in what happened last night."

She taps ash onto the cement, "He seemed t'know that you aren't human. Asked me if I had the same 'condition'," a slight tone change, she's using his words, "as everyone else."


(james)
his head shakes

"I told you, I was not there that night, so that would be something I am not aware of. You would have to ask the man who bore her away.

Where does he, the one who has the power and secrets to make it so, choose to be.... currently?"

(decker)
Decker looks away from Imogen now, frowning in the direction of the three by the pool. The parking lot's lights give him an unnatural glow, sheening his skin in orange, picking out the close-mowed hair - a little longer these days, given his lack of access to an electric razor - in amber. He'd shaved in the morning, but the motel's razor was less than perfect, and anyway the long day was catching up to him. A bristle shades his solid jaw, and the hollow under his lower lip.

"You tell 'im anythin'?" he asks, not that he expected her to be quite that foolish. The cigarette bobs between his lips as he speaks, burning ashes drifting down to the asphalt like so many falling stars.

(imogen)
For the most part, she'd been watching the trio by the pool, smoking quietly, but as the question is asked, her attention flickers over to the Fenrir, looking at him for a moment. "No." She answers after a moment, "I said I didn't know what he was talkin' about. Then I came out 'ere and he followed."

The halogen lights of the parking lot cast dark shadows across her features, pocketing her eyes in black, casting her fine white skin in a pale jaundice. Even vibrant hair, a thousand colours of red shades toward orange in this light.

(seb)
He gets a thoughtful look and lifts his gaze upwards towards the sky and seems to be regarding the pass of stars and clouds overhead.

"Currently I know not where he chooses to be. Although, for no cost to yourself or I, I do not suggest you brashenly seek him out. What is the name of the little one that was injured by the pattern spider?"

(decker)
Old habits die hard: taking the cigarette between thumb and forefinger like a joint, he pulls off a drag, ashes. "Yeah, all right." Cigarette replaced with a faint cough; the smoke was smoother than marijuana, but he wasn't a fan of the taste, and the lulling effect wasn't nearly so powerful. "Don't tell 'im nothin'. Dunno what he is, but don't think he's one o' us."

He says it so easily: us. She knows that 'us' would never fully include her. She'd always be the one to protect in a fight, and the one to protect them when the eye of unsuspecting mortals begins to turn their way. Different worlds, different tasks, barely touching.

Maybe the silences between them, the distances, aren't so strange after all. Rubbing a hand back over his hair, the Modi starts forward again.


(james)
he watches the lift of eyes skyward
how apropos...

"Star."

and thus the Gnawer quiets
recounting the conversation
word by word
play by play
each dodge and counter

"Since you are unable to answer my questions about the one who has the secrets and power, nor do you know what he is choosing to hide from the rats......."

pausing again
before warm brown eyes lift

".... where is what is being hidden from the rats?"

(imo)
"He called it a condition, Rohl. He is not one o' you." She says with a degree of absolute certainty. Some kinfolk grow up with an us and them syndrome. Other kinfolk try and join in, and become simply 'us'. For Imogen, it seems, there is only them.

"Won't breathe a word." Exhaling cigarette smoke as he moves to walk past her, she stays standing where she is for the moment, smoking the cigarette slowly.

(seb)
"As above... so below."

He finally has something of a smile that no longer looks so sad, but as if he is strangely pleased with James and the turn of conversation. As if James did something impressive in his own right, by his own wits.

He peers down at the ground near his feet for a long moment, leaning forward in his chair so that his hair slides forward over his shoudlers. He then looks back up at James with dark eyes through a veil of shadow hair.

"This question is outside of the agreed parameters, but I doubt it will be of such a... sensitive... nature that you should find it difficult to answer."

He raises his hand and pulls back the curtain of his own hair, as if slowly exposing himself to the other young man.

"Your name? Or something, perhaps, if you are that wary of me, by which to call you."

(decker)
So, alone, he moves to the gate. It opens easily enough, though the hinges squeal softly and announce his presence - as if the rolling shockwave of rage didn't. Ten feet away and the edge of that invisible sphere reaches them, raising hairs, setting nerves on edge. His grey eyes flicker between the three, and then to the tip of his cigarette, which he ashes again.

Moving beside Rune silently and without thought - packmates - he's also coincidentally behind Sebastian. He listens to the proceedings, his eye wandering over the leaves floating on the surface of the pool, and then up to count how many windows still had their lights on.

(seb)
Sebastian slowly rises from his seat beside James, turning on one foot to regards Decker and Rune, but more specifically Decker. He gestures to the seat he just vacated, with all the manners of someone who was raised to be polite.

"Did you wish to join us?"

He pulls the chair a little further out in case Decker ascents before he pulls out another on the other side of James and takes a seat again. Coincidentally, this also means that Decker is no longer behind him. This... pack... was not the only cautious people to walk the night streets.


(james)
the Gnawer's head tilts
it's pure lupine curiosity
watching the change come over the mystery man

wondering what in the world his last answer meant

there's a part of him that should probably shy away from the man (creature?) being so close
though there is something fascinating about him
he knows he has never seen something like this before
even if he isn't totally sure what is is

"They call me Jukebox."

for what he is, that very would could be his name

"What is as above, it is below?"

(imo)
From outside the bubble, and just outside hearing range of normal conversation, she leans against the car, slowly smoking the cigarette to the filter.

(deckler)
Decker cracks one of his little smirks, a curve of lip that might as well be a sneer for all the reassurance it gave. "Naw," he drawls, moving around behind Sebastian again with such deliberation that it'd be clear he was doing it on purpose even if his words didn't make it so, "like the back of yer head more'n yer face."

The chair grates and clangs along the concrete noisily enough to wake the first floor residents. Spinning it into place, Decker drops down behind Sebastian, both feet on the ground, wide apart. Easily balanced, should he rise suddenly.

(rune)
Rune flickers a brief glance toward Decker, then looks back to James and Sebastian.

The gate, the stairs, the pool. Her bare toes sink another millimeter into the tiny strip of brown turf as she shifts her weight forward, rising faintly from her slouch.

(seb)
"Yes."

Now that he has reseated himself he appears to return the conversation to James as if he was the only one apart of it. After all, he'd made it obvious prior to this that what was said was done James and himself. That was the bargain they had struck for this exhcange of elusive information.

"I am Bastian. It is a pleasure to make your acquiantane, Jukebox." There are some nicities of society that should never be allowed to go out of vogue.

(james)
"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Bastian."

well
that's it
he's confused again
he's sure somewhere along the way this one thanked him too
for cryin' out loud

he'd look to Decker and Rune for help
but he knows they'd rather eat this strange, strange creature
there's a desperation edging him
deep beneath that cool thesad
deep in those warm brown eyes

he knows he won't have another chance for this
not if they get their way

softly

"Bastion..... will you..... show me where the secrets are kept?"

(seb)
"I can, however, I would feel infinately more comfortable if your companions did not make their hostile intentions so obviously close to my person."

He isn't blind, for all he seems to be ignoring Decker and RUne in favor of the conversation. He isn't stupid either. He knows what is running through their heads and it wasn't at all productive for his continued wellbeing... And perhaps not theirs, either.

(james)
there's a nod
and he just looks to them
silent

so far, it's the only lead they have
for whatever it ends up being worth
for whatever it ends up solving
if he's wrong for following it they can tell his sad story or forget about him completely
he's willing to take the chance
Nova and Siophan got messed up because they didn't know what they were up against
here's his opportunity to find out more
(to earn his place back once again)

but....he can't ask them to stand down from their intentions
they both outrank him

and how much is he going to pay for it regardless of the outcome

(imo)
The cigarette is crushed beneath a boot heel, eyes turned toward the trio once more. Sabastien can feel their rather unhealthy interest in him; a sort of secondary instinct (maybe she can just see it in the way they're standing) has brought her to the same conclusion.

(decker)
Decker's lips thin. He looks between the longhaired youth and James, back and forth. At last - a nod, ever so slight, and upwards as always.

They were Eagle's Chosen. For that, he had some measure of trust.

(james)
his chin drops
just as imperceptibly
submission
thanks
trust

"Allright, Bastion. You got your answer. Now show me."


(seb)
"As you desire."

He stands, brushing his hands down the front of his coat and gestures for them to proceed towards the parking lot.

(seb)
Upon reaching the parking lot he turns to James with tired eyes and a faintly sad smile again.

"I will meet you where the rats dare not go tomorrow eve and I'll show you where the secrets hide, as you so desire."

At whatever the cost, apparently.

Posted by james at October 26, 2002 12:00 AM
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