October 27, 2002.10.27.02. - dinner/into the sewers [erik-decker-imogen-bastion-carlos] *njb[north jersey]
(james)
when the Kin had removed herself to the room
and the Modi thereafter followed
the Gnawer went in another directionsometimes you just need a moment
and he wasn't happywell, that's not totally accurate
he had a sense of victory
perhaps there was some personal pride in playing the game well
in earning what information he did
in what information he will find when the sun sets in its next cyclebut how much will he have to pay for it?
to Sebastian.
to his packmates.
(and let us not forget our old packmates, hm? you're not leaving out that part of the night, are you?)it's a long time later that he returns
quiet
(haunted)
knuckles swollen
one of the tempered rebar sticks shoved into the sling slightly bent
keys jangle, he doesn't particularly feel like walking around to the lobby, and some locks are so common he can pick the right one without paying for that, the door to the backwell yeilding it's secrets to allow the tell Gnawer to make his way up the stairs
might as well check in
he doesn't have Rune's phone anymore so who knows what's happening(decker)
James didn't have the key to the motel room. Neither did Decker, actually. There was one key, and it was on the good doctor. James will have to knock.Inside, it's dinnertime for the thuggish Modi. Chinese takeout, three or four of those little white fold-up boxes full of food. The TV's on, sound almost muted, and the drapes are open to the deepening night outside. He's watching his food, though, so Decker doesn't see James enter through the back.
Imogen seems to be out. Probably got called off to some other gruesome death or other. Murder never took a holiday and consequently, neither did the one who followed in its wake like some bizarre Morrigan.
The phone rang once an hour ago. It was Imogen, telling him she wouldn't be back until late. Left to himself, Decker waits for his pack to get here with something for him to do. Something to track, something to kill. That sort of thing.
(erik)
It is about five minutes after James picks the pock and climbs the back stair that anothers tread is heard. Slowly and inexorably, whoever it is nears the top.(james)
he didn't have the true key to the motel room, correct
but the ring of keys is wrapped tight in his fist
paused just outside the door
he could get in if he had to
(course, he could also kick the door in, if he had to)
but hearing nothing out of the ordinary
and knowing he's not supposed to have a keylet's play it safe, James
the Gnawer knocks
keys jangling their way back into his pocket(decker0
At the knock, Decker drops his little plastic spoon, wipes his mouth and hands, and rises from the unsteady little table. His thigh brushes the edge and nearly sends the whole mess keeling over, and he scrambles to catch it before he spills wonton soup and twice-cooked pork all over the floor.Walking across the room, then, he glances through the peephole. James. Behind him, Blood Eagle. Hm. The deadbolt clicks back into the door and Decker pulls it open, turning around to return to his food almost as soon as the door's free of the frame.
"Just in time for dinner," says the brooding Modi. "Got 'nough fer three, if y'all ain't too hungry 'r nothin'."
(erik)
He steps into the small room and looks around, and as always his expression is unreadable, unless the perma-sneer coincides with his mood.He grunts at the mention of dinner... kinda forgot to eat... and folows decker. He sets a fifth of Jack Daniels down on the table and inspects the cartons of take-out.
(decker)
The motel room is small, almost cramped. The entrance opens into a narrow and short hallway to the room proper. To the left in the hallway is a door to a small bathroom. In the room, there's two twin-sized beds, a nightstand in between, a dresser with a TV on top and a single chair behind the small round table. There's a hint of old cigarette smoke in the air, indicating this was a smoking room."'S move it over to the bed."
Between the two Fenrir, the little table piled with cartons is wobbled over to the righthand bed with a minimum of slosh. With enough room for three to sit down, Decker sinks down on the corner of the bed, clicks the TV off, and gestures at the food vaguely with his spoon. "Chopsticks somewhere 'n a fork. Jus' use yer hands if you wanna."
(james)
a glance, just before the door's opened"Erik."
something of a half grin (where's that easy smile?) offered the Modi as he steps into the room
food? anytime.
the sling rattling objection as it's dumped onto the bed just behind where Decker will sit
the patchwork trenchcoat following soon thereafter in a heap
he moves on past towards the bathroomyea, he knows his place
he'll accept whatever's handed to him after they've decidedashed scars peek from beneath the A-line cut of the scrounged tank
something crawling onto his shoulders
he'll have to remember to dedicate another shirt soon
but right now he's preoccupied with washing the dried blood off his forearms(erik)
Erik takes the other bed, jacket flairing out as he sits, revealing the sawed off shotgun fetish he carries, strapped under his armpit. He shrugs as he picks up a carton of whateveritis chinees food, grabs a utensil and digs in.(decker)
Catching a wonton sloppily off his spoon as it starts to slide, Decker nods up at James. The man looked messier than Decker did today. "Hell you been up to?"(james)
there's only the sound of rushing water
scrubbing soap
and eeeeeverything else sloshing down the drain
away with you now
goodbye.it's only after he grabs the chopsticks and the little boxcup of chowmein that he answers
"Self expression."
food now, talk later
seems that's his and Decker's way, isn't it
fairly deftly (mostly) managing the slippery noodles with the chopsticks and swollen knuckles
pausing only to chew and move his stuff closer to the other side of the bed so he can sit(erik)
Erik doesn't move a muscle if James wants to sit on his bed. He won't stop the Gnawer, but he'll have to take up the far side of it.then he gets up and goes for the bottle of Jack. By the time he returns the bottle is opened and the cap is on the floor somewhere.
(decker)
Decker finishes soon enough; he'd been eating for a while before they came in. Setting his box down, the Modi moves to the window. Outside it was full-dark now, so he draws the curtains.Since no one else was taking it, he sits in the chair, propping his feet up on the dresser next to the TV. Watching his packmates eat gets old eventually, so he breaks the silence.
"Somethin' up?" - that, to Blood Eagle. It was the first time the Alpha had come around here.
(erik)
He nods once to Decker's question and throws the empty carton onto the table so he can take a long drink from the bottle of whiskey. He hands it out to the Modi "figure I've found Asher. time to finish it."
(james)
Alpha chose that bed
Alpha gets that bed
he's slouched beside and somewhat behind Decker
well.... where he was
soon as the Modi moves, he makes himself more comfortableit's not long before that little boxcup is all but licked clean
the longer you have food available
the more time it seems there is for others to try to take it
and while he trusts his own pack not to do that
old habits die hard
old memories die harder(James. Stop it.)
gathering the empty cartons into a bundle and tossing them into the normally forgotten trashcan hiding all the way over there in the corner
just listening, really.(decker)
That gets his attention well enough. Glancing sideways sharply, Decker shifts in his seat. "Yeah?" His usual apathy can't hide his anticipation. "When?"(erik)
"soon as the others get here. You gonna hit this, or what?" Refering to the bottle he is holding out to the modi.
(decker)
Barely even noticing the bottle until now, Decker leans precariously over in his chair to snag it out of the Rotagar's hand. A grunted thanks as he lifts it for a brief swallow. Didn't want to dull his senses before a hunt."Might be a while," he admits grudgingly. "Rune went down south to Atlantic City last night."
(erk)
He grunts. "Whats she doin there?"(decker)
A shrug, as the Modi tilts the chair back on two legs, rocks gently back and forth. "Beats me. Probably lookin' to scare up some Wyrmlin's to kill. Was pretty worked up after that Sebastian fuck came around last night."That reminds him. Glancing at James, "You meet up with him yet?"
(james)
yep
that's him
the quiet Gnawer on the bed
don't mind him
he'll just listenwell, until questioned
Rune wasn't the only one worked up over it"Not yet, supposed to later."
(erik)
He listens and waves the bottle back his way.(decker)
The front legs bang down on the floor as Decker leans forward to pass the bottle back. Then he's balancing on two legs again, eyeing James. Better kill that fucker when yer done. Didn't need to say it, though. If James didn't know that already, he wouldn't even be a Cliath, much less one of Eagle's.Back to Erik. "So where's Asher holed up?"
(erik)
Hits the bottle first, nice and long. "Ahhh!" He motions to toss it to James, if he wants it. "Moves around alot. Last few days been hangin at some lab. Northwest Labratory, or somethin."(decker)
Decker's never heard of a Northwest Lab. Then again, he was hardly the type to keep up on scientific matters. A grunt. "Some sorta base for 'em? How much opposition you think we're lookin' at?"(eriK)
"don't know. Big lab. High tech. If there's a hive, could be tough." lofts the bottle to James, being careful to toss it so the neck stays pointed up, since the cap is gone.(james)
he gets that look
he knows those words
knew it already, yes indeed
and therein lays the rub
quite the quandry, Little Gnawerhe has a question
but he won't ask it nowback to listening
and drinking
nodding his thanks before keeping up the rotation and passing to Decker(decker)
Decker waves the bottle off, letting it pass him by to Erik. Frowning, he toes a pad of paper off the dresser, rips off the used pages up on top, and tosses it at Erik to sketch a floorplan on. "You seen it?"(erik)
He sketches the general shape of the building, thats about it. "didn't make it inside, and he was only there these last two days. We'll try and take him when he isn't there, and then check theplace out proper later. Now I'm gettin some sleep, then we're goin."(imogen)
The door of the motel room clicks softly, the scraping of a key into a lock as the dead bolt unlocked with a rub of metal against metal and wood. A second later, a similar sound as the key is inserted into the door knob, and the door swings opens. The small woman steps inside, eyes sweeping the room, and the three male Garou inside.Turns away, shutting the door, clicking the deadbolt in place, and slipping through the small pseudo foyer, and entering the single main room.
A slender woman, she stands at about five feet two inches, complete with the boots that are being pulled off at that very moment, shoved into the small closet. Five foot one now, in her socked feet. Dark blue jeans, slung low on her hips, a medical examiner's shield clipped to her black belt, only somewhat obscured by the loose fitting poet's blouse.
She's an attractive woman with finely chiselled features, pale skin. Dark blue eyes, that once more flick over the gathered three. Red hair, all curls and waves, half contained at the base of her neck with an elastic band. A few more steps into the room, and she reaches the bureau, unclipping the badge and tossing it by the ash tray. Keys soon follow.
(decker)
(The player had to sleep *grins*)Catching the pad as Erik (presumably) tosses it back, Decker nods wordlessly, then looks down at the sketch. A few doors, the shape of the building, that's it.
Erik stretches out and goes to sleep like a true warrior: in ten seconds flat, fully dressed, shotgun still strapped to his side, an arm over his eyes. Guess he and James were gonna have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight.
...and, as the door opens, Decker looks up from the pad. He watches Imogen make her way into the room with one and then another half-wary glance for the overabundance of Garou in the room, complete with one sprawled asleep on what had been her bed. Moving his feet aside for her to toss her things down, he rests them instead on the edge of the dresser.
"'S Erik," he explains, simply. "My Alpha."
Done with the sketch, he holds it out for James to look at. There isn't much information there; not much that they can really plan with.
(james)
he noticed that too
hm
well, at least he can make wherever this somewhere else is, comfortablelooking up as the door slides open
offering a bit of a smile to Imogen
the warmth still not quite therestretching to grab the pad
"Where's the lab again?"
(decket)
The Modi shrugs. "Ain't too sure. Erik ain't said. Can probably look it up in a phone book 'r somethin', though." A pause. "You gonna talk?"About the Bone Gnawer's less than happy mood, apparently.
(imogen)
An eyebrow lifts slightly as she glances at the armed man sprawled on the bed, her attention shifting to Decker as he completes his explanation in five words or less. "Ah," as she is enlightened.Explanation tendered, she starts looking for somewhere to sit, vaguely contemplating the unpleasantness of staying in a motel room with an unknown Garou sleeping in the other bed.
The good doctor's attention shifts to James as he speaks, an eyebrow lifting before settling again, as she crosses the room to sit against the cool metal of the window sill.
(james)
that's what he was thinking
then next page flipped to and he copies the sketch, writing the name, and, well, that's it, really
slowly, those eyes lift to the the gray storms of his packmates"What do you want to know."
(decker)
Decker watches the kinwoman make her way across to the windowsill. Must feel like running some sort of bizarre gauntlet. To have Decker and his personality crammed into her room is bad enough; to have three of them occupying every last sit-able space had to be worse.Returning to James, Decker moves muscled shoulders in a shrug. "The hell got on yer case?" Let's start with that...
(imo)
It certainly provides one with a feeling of being somewhere one does not belong. A female kinfolk in a room with male Garou, entering in the middle of the conversation.Add into the fact she isn't sure she wants to know, and she hasn't got a clue where to look, nor what to do. One hand rests on her knee, while she lifts the other one, inspecting nails cut close to the quick.
(james)
well, at least one of them was asleep
but with Decker's overwhelming personality
and the obvious lack of the normal mellowness in the Gnawer
well
he'd've picked the windowsill, too
honestlybut a glance asks in silence if she wants to sit somewhere comfortable
she would have more right to it than him
since she's paying for the room anyway
taking up residence on the floor doesn't bother him one bit"Do you want the short or long version?"
(decker)
It's called skirting the issue. He'd know. He'd done it long enough, himself. Months.The two front feet of the chair come down with a thump, and Decker turns it around to face James. Imogen's presence is either being ignored or accepted. Pick one. The quiet southern slur as he leans forward, picks a toothpick off the table and pokes it through its plastic wrapping, "You wanna tell me the short or the long?"
(james)
there's a moment of silence
a moment of indecision
not something he shows this openly all too entirely often
but considering the present company, it's allrightcry in the dojo, laugh in the battlefield, right?
and it's not like he has much of a choice
who's the lowest rung on the pack's totem pole, here
he'd have to answer whatever he's askedbut there's a look in his eyes that appreciates the choice
"I would tell you both. The long to show I'd hide nothing from you. The short to save on time."
(decker)
The choice comes back to the Modi. After a moment's pause, he sits up from his sprawl in the chair, muscles flexing beneath his shirt as he adjusts to the new center of balance. He looks at Imogen while he considers it, possibly merely for the purpose of looking somewhere, and finally looks back at the raggety man."Tell me the short. After we settle the score with the Dancer, there'll be time for you 'n I to have a longer chat."
Something that was necessary, perhaps.
(james)
the Gnawer sucks on his lower lip in thought
summarizing"Lazarus isn't my favorite person anyway, and to see something frighten her kind like she saw the dead was unsettling, then to hear it was an old packmate made it worse, because I've also run into Missy and she has some serious issues going on, so it's compounding, and then Bastion.... I don't even know what he is but it creeps me out, and then we've got all this trouble with Asher on top of that.... let's boil it down to things are hitting a little close to home."
which probably didn't clear much up
that talk next time
right.(imo)
Gaze meets gaze for a moment as Decker looks at her, before her attention flicks away, glancing over her shoulder out the window, to the dingy pool and the street beyond.(decker)
Too much information thrown at him too fast is as good as nothing. In the end, the Modi can only comment on one thing. "Missy..." furrowed brow, thinking, "...I'll look fer her sometime."Everything comes back in the end.
Everything goes full circle.Leaning down, the Fenrir reties his shoelace. Getting to his feet, then, he pops his neck to the side. He takes a step toward Imogen, but by then her attention had gone elsewhere, out the window to the pool, the street, and he's out of her line of sight even in reflection. James, then, is the only one who'll see the hesitation, the flicker of frustration, before Decker turns instead to his packmate.
"Leavin'," he says, no explanation for it other than the unspoken, obvious one. "We'll talk later."
He doesn't have to tell James to lock the door behind him.
(james)
he wanted the short version, he got it
there's a nodthat's it
just a nodgotcher back, man
about to move to lock the door, but Imogen's got it this time around
locked. and. loaded.
(poor guy, he's got it bad, she does, too)
and those dark eyes look to Imogen's
or at least, where they would be if she was looking at him"So...... how was your day at work, dear?"
let's call it grasping for something to break the tension
(imogen)
She'd been turning around to walk back into the room, when he'd spoken, pausing to eye him for a moment as he speaks. Her eyes are dark, too, an indescrible blue caught somewhere between the night sky lightened by stars and a lake with a depth that seems to never end. A moment passes as she just looks at him; the attempt to break the tension apparently did not pass. One hand slides into her back pocket, while the other brushes strands of hair away from her eyes. "Pointless. The bloke on call actually showed up."(james)
in our last episode
we found our fair heroes in a nice condo, expensively furnished, pristine, and she was getting him all inky with the fingerprints
this time
we find our fair heroes in a dingy, cheap motel, smokey, seedy, cheap and fast, it's already all dirty and inky grungey
and he still feels out of place
and this is his type of place!past few nights
they've just been too tired to talk
so the silence hasn't been that noticeable
but now that they're both wide awake
and, well, paying attention to each other
grrhe's not the one with feelings for her and even he is trying to find somethign to do with his hands
as that attempt just crashed and burned
moving his sling and dumped into pile trench off the bed so she can sit
where the dreads sway from his shoulders, the ash scars peek from beneath the tank's sleeve cut
riding that tension in his muscles"We would've saved you some food... but he didn't know when you were coming back."
and Chinese tastes like shit cold
(imogen)
Our fair heroes.If someone was watching from the outside, one might think this a wonderful story, a great fairy tale. A deadly foe that damages the environment. A damsel in distress. A battle to fight. A war to win (and lose). But when the rage fills your veins and you realize you don't care who you kill, but only that you feel the blood whet your fire, it's about then you realize
There are no heroes anywhere.
Quiet and distant, with bruises hidden by the cloak of a thin poet's shirt, mixing with the ink of a tattooed brand belonging to a tribe she would rather not see, she is no damsel in distress.
The hotel room is starting to look lived in, somewhat. A brief case is stowed in the corner, sitting atop two file folders. In another corner is a guitar, resting on a stand, it's edges worn and used. The ashtray's had some use, and while he vacates the bed, she strides to it, picking it up, her other hand patting her pockets for a cigarette package, her head jerking toward the sleeping warrior on her bed, "Think he'll mind if I smoke?"
Perceptive enough to catch what he's doing, a faint flicker of suprise echoing in dark blue eyes, she moves to take up the spot on the bed he'd just vacated, shaking her head slightly, "Don't worry," a faint hint of a smile touches her mouth, barely an illusion, "I'm not so hungry anyway." Sitting with her back against the headboard, legs crossed indian style as she places the ashtray before her.
(james)
there's a glance towards his Alpha
head shaking
it's your room
which would be the reason he's taking up residence in the vacated chair
coat dumped on the table
sling across bent knees
though he glances up with a soft smile"I'd offer to make a run to that place down on the corner if you were."
hey, he's Gnawer
everybody eatz, even if it's just macaroni and cheeze
plus this is his packmates....er..... friend
there are a lot of reasons
anywayone of the rebar sticks is pulled from the sling, and a frown crosses young features, however breifly
it's bent, just a little bit, three-quarters the way up (or down, however you look at it) not enough to breach the integrity of the structure but enough to be noticed, and enough to really mess up the intended, normal use of the drumstick
judging by how swollen his knuckles are, still, it's a good bet he did it himself
cause of whatever got to him
frown deepening to realize he can't straighten it himself, eitherbut that's about the point the Ragabash stirs, attention flicking - there's something else to be said about the sleep of true warriors: they don't need much of it. There's a quick conversation, introduction, apprasal of the current status of the Modi, and then Blood Eagle's off again - the door locked behind him.
(imogen)
She'd stayed mostly silent through introductions and explanations, speaking when necessary; generally, reacting to the ragabash the same way she'd reacted to James. It must be nice to know it's not just him that she's frosty with; seems to be almost everyone.Soon after he'd left, she pulls a slightly bent cigarette packet from her back pocket, tapping one out, and slipping it between her lips, lighting the tip with a cheap orange bic lighter. She speaks around the filter, eyes turning back to the Bone Gnawer, "What lab?"
(james)
it's nice to know, indeed, even if it doesn't change muchrealizing and accepting are two different things
so he's grabbing each end of the bar
doubling over for knuckles to rest against the ground
his boot over the bend
and up. he. pulls.it works, a little
but the steady pull of an Ahroun versus the damage he made when swinging the stick at full force
reiterated: a little
but it's something to do with his hands"Northwest. Do you know of it?"
looking up through the jungle vine curtains of dreadlocks
(seb)
...watch me watch you...They'd run from the condominium because the Dancers knew where they lived. Now they were holed up where a creepy (stalker) unknown entity could find them. That knew which rooms was theirs. How much of an improvement was that, I wonder?
knock knock knock
(imogen)
She watches him... well, not him specifically, so much as what he was doing, dark unreadable eyes on the metal bar between his hands, and the progress however small he's making on the thick material.Her brow pinches slightly into a frown as she raises the cigarette to her lips again, inhaling slowly, the ember brightening for a moment. Exhale. The ember fades. "I think ..." she begins, trailing off as someone knocks on the door. Blink, glancing sideways at the Ahroun, before getting to her feet and crossing the room, and peering through the peek hole.
And turns and walks back, glancing at the Gnawer as she does, slipping the cigarette between her lips, "It's th'guy you chatted with so long yesterday," the one who had followed her down the stair cases, and had asked millions of questions.
Evidently, she wasn't going to answer the door.
(carlos romani)
What a shit hole... Shoudn't have gone with the Armanti... What was he doing here? Because he'd been told to be, that's why.This Sebastian guy gave him the creeps on the best of days. Tonight he was being downright weird.
Mental note: my situation hasn't changed, I'm still following orders.
(seb)
There are times when you learn to be patient. Now was one of those times. It had been made clear that his attentions on this little group was somewhat unwelcome (understatement). But, a deal had been made to occur tonight and needed to be concluded. He knew someone was in there, that much he could hear. The muffled voices and movement of bodies.
(james)
gee, isn't this symbolic
but whatever train of self-demeaning and rambling thought that is there gets distracted by the knock
up and at 'em, Jamespeering through, the Gnawer frowns
now there's two of themtwo.
what the hell is he supposed to do now?
the deal was for tonight
but he can't leave Imogen alone
and he really doesn't want to take her with him
and....shit.
the door opens anyway
the length of rebar in his hand hidden behind the wood
the other resting on the open frame
the dreadlocked Gnawer stands there
scrounged wifebeater
surplus black baggy cargos
second hand cochrans"Evenin' Bastion."
smiled fairly pleasently
he's remaining in the doorway between the two men and Imogen
ever feel like you're caught between two worlds?(seb)
He inclines his head, lowering his eyes as he does so, in polite greeting to the daggy young man positioned in the small opening of the door."Good evening, Jukebox. I hope you are well this evening? I did not mean to intrude, but I have the services of my assistant for only this night for the explorations you wished to endeavor in."
Well that explained why there were two men at the door, rather than just the lone Bastian The Creepy.
(imo)
The red haired woman sits on the edge of the bed, one hand reaching behind her to grab the ashtray and set it beside her. Ash is tapped into the sooty centre, and she leans foward resting one elbow against her knee, placing the cigarette between her lips once more, eyes facing forward as she listens to the conversation.(carlos)
Eyes cut towards Bastian, eyebrow cocked. He mutters something unintelligable under his breath.(james)
the Ahroun's eyes slide over to Carlos
yes, that did explain his presence
mostlythis. was. not. good. timing.
Decker's gone
Erik's gone
that leaves one Gnawer that's supposed to be on a mission
and one Kin he's supposed to be guarding
who really shouldn't go along on the missionbut does he have a choice?
how high is the price going to be for this...... split in how many ways
"Would you give me a few moments to gather some things beore we leave? I wasn't expecting you quite yet."
(seb)
"We don't mind waiting, do we, Mr. Romani?"He nods politely again to the Gnawer with an open gesture for the other man to take some time for the preparations.
He also didn't bother to look at Carlos when he asks the almost rhetorical question of his companion.
(carlos)
"No, of course not. We have all night, Mr. Bastian."He's been told to be on his best behavior. Mental image to self: I'm with my grandmother. Mind my manners.
(decker)
Ding.Elevator comes up again at the far end of the hall. There aren't many rooms on the sixth floor, and there aren't many tenants walking in and out at 11pm: too late for the legit, too early for the illegit. Three guesses to who it is.
Elevator doors slide open. Slouched against the wall, one hand rubbing at the chapped knuckles of the other, the Modi looks up and notes not one but two strangers in front of room 609. Correction. One stranger and one effeminate freak.
Let's just invite the whole fuckin' city, shall we?
He is, needless to say, less than pleased. Pushing off the metal wall as the elevator jounces to an unsteady stop, Decker drops into the usual brooding, swaying gait, old shoes scuffing the thin carpet of the hall. Plenty of advance warning, here. It's still not enough.
Ten feet away, it hits them like a desert heatwave: a rolling invisible, deafening-silent scorch of rage. To think, he'd been out blowing it off, too. His eyes flicker over the pair, frowning, and then he nods up to James. "Hell's this all about?"
(james)
"Good.... I won't be long, thank you."even when confronted with not one, but now two strange, creepy men at a door to a place they...... shouldn't know about but do (mental note: move) he minds his manners well
a polite smile
and the door is closed
after he all but drags the Modi insidewell, he makes it look a lot smoother than that
but he's never been so pleased to see Decker in his life
really.
his voice low"These two just showed up, not even five mintues ago, no warning, no nothing. I don't even know how they got the room number. I have to go with them, or I lose my chance to find out whatever it is that they're going to show me. I have to go, but I'd appreciate the backup if you're wanting to come along."
that was to Decker
a glance to Imogen
cause if the Modi's coming with him, she'll have to as well
else there's nobody around to watch over her if this is a distraction plot
or.... if they want her to come along....and...
.....he's just lost
he doesn't know what to do, he's not supposed to be making decisions
just gathering up the sling and his patchwork trenchcoat(carlos)
Let's not throw caution to the wind, let's give the large angry man some space (then again, anyone over 5'5" is large). Avoid eye contact. Step behind Bastian to avoid attention, although that's hard in an Armani suit. I'm just the little guy.(imo)
Her attention shifts from a blank spot on the wall, toward the door at the sound of Decker's voice, absently flicking ash into the ashtray.This time, she doesn't bother to hide the fact she's listening, or perhaps it's the first time she's truly paying attention when two Garou are talking and she is not involved.
(carlos)
Carlos was of obvious Italian descent and he looked like he should be toting a violin case packed with a tommy-gun. For sure he looked like he should have two rock-apes behind him. A fedora was perched on his head. His Armani suit was immaculate right down to his black polish-to-be-mirror-like spats.(seb)
Sebastian, naturally, looked like Sebastian. The whole monochrome effort still in effect, although his hair was, tonight, pulled back into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck. He waited in silence, standing far too still to be comfortable, staring at the closed door as if he could still watch the actions of the occupants within.(decker)
The minute the door closes, Decker all but throws James off, the farther the better, one stiff finger leveled at the reeling Bone Gnawer on the end of a half-flexed arm in silent warning, accusation, something. Back off, stay off.A seething, sullen silence as Decker stares at James, stares him in the eye and measures the truth of his statement. I don't even know how they got the room number.
Finally, barely audible, "This damn well better be worth it."
Dropping his hand, he steps into the bathroom, slams the door, and takes a fucking piss. Toilet flushes, water runs; shaking his hands dry, he stalks back out, looking between James and Imogen and the clock.
"C'mon." To Imogen, that. Looks like yet another night of running around with the Garou for her.
(seb)
He looked down and to one side for a moment, before returning his attention to the closed doors."Very nice shoes, Mr. Romani."
(carlos)
"Thank you, Mr. Bastian."This was obviously a working relationship. Small talk from Mr Creepy? That just made it even worse.
(imo)
Decker's fury is easy for a blind man to see, and for Imogen it's as platable as the air she breathes. He slams into the bathroom. Slams out. Orders her to come with them.Fuck.
She doesn't have to say it, as she stamps out her cigarette, standing up, and crossing the room, pulling a jacket from the closet and shoving her arms through it as she simaltaneously pulls her boots on. Three seconds, and she stands there, hands shoved into the front pockets of her jeans. Ready.
(james)
reeling?
you betcha.but there's something in his eyes again
hey, he followed you're fuckin' girl out of the building last night, why don't you get mad at her? maybe she lead them up here. ever think about that or is it all the fuckin' street rat's fault?
you can bet he doesn't say it.
he does, however, say, just as softly"You aren't the only one that hopes so."
he has a feeling he'll be paying for it with his hide
(again)
shrugging the trench on over ash scarred shoulders
sling, well, slung
and he's back out the door and into the hallway"Shall we, Bastion?"
a glance to his friend
they haven't been introduced yet
and he makes sure to stay out of the Modi's reach(seb)
Bastian doesn't even blink when the door is opened pretty much in his face, but he does step back allowing more than ample room for the trio to exit as they pleased."Of course, Jukebox."
A polite pause before he makes a sweeping jesture towards his immaculate Italian companion.
"May I introduce Mr. Romani. He will be our guide tonight."
He waits for the pleasentries to be exchanged, not interruping the formalities.
(carlos)
He nods politely to James."Pleased to make your acquiantance. I have a car waiting, should you require transport."
(imo)
He nods politely to James."Pleased to make your acquiantance. I have a car waiting, should you require transport."
(decker)
Decker is the second one out. Still no jacket. Would have to get one soon. Hardly immaculate as both the men outside seemed to be (what is this, some bad mob flick?), Decker's seething, built like a young bull, dirty as if he'd just had a knock-down drag-out fight in the rain.Last night it was one little slick asshole, and he should've splatted it then. Tonight it's two. Tomorrow - what. Four? Eight?
No pleasantries out of this one. Then again, he wasn't involved in the conversation anyway. Silent, he pulls the door shut after Imogen and shifts his weight - slow, deliberate - from one foot to the other. When Carlos speaks, he cuts in abruptly.
"Got our own."
Looks like Imogen was just volunteered.(carlos)
A polite nod to Imogen."You career choice is rather fascinating, Dr. Sluaghter. It's a pleasure to make your acquiantance, also."
Mental Note: Dr. Sluaghter. What an unfortunate name.(imogen)
Eyes turn toward Carlos and his pleasantness, unresponsive, only a sharp inclination of her head at least acknowledging that he'd spoken to her.Decker volunteers her. Hands reach into her pockets to insure she brought the keys. A reassuring jangle, and she waits for the little happy party to move on out.
(james)"A pleasure."
he's quiet too
but for different reasons than the Modi
..... mostlyfinally stopping
right before they hit the elevator button
right before everything gets set in concrete
standing to block the doors
urban primitive straight out of the heart of the concrete jungle facing off to the best civilization appears to have offered them this night, the barbarian and the nobles, the cutthroat and the boss
he may be lost
but he's still Ahroun
and that's his packmate standing right behind them"First things first. What's tonight's price."
(seb)
"Then I guess we shall get this merry show on the road, so to speak."He turns, walking down the hallway to the elevator behind James and stops (maybe a little too close for the mind of any good hetrosexual male) beside him. He quirks an eyebrow and smiles at the young dread-locked Gnawer in his generally forlorn way.
"Firstly you will agree to share whatever it is that you find hidden, with both myself and Mr. Romani."
He pauses, but doesn't bother to glance back over his shoulder at Decker.
"Secondly, I have arranged safe passage which I alone have paid for, but which will cover then entire group and as such, agreement of all parties involved to not cause a disturbance is required in return. Although you may be unaware, there are those who hold territories much like your own who do not wish their peace to be disturbed, tonight or any other night."
(james)
the appraisal of the immaculately creepy man is cool and calm
no matter how close he may be standing
it doesn't offend him
for whatever the reasons"The first I expected, it becomes a fair exchange. As for the second, what is your definition of the particular disturbance that all parties will not cause."
he is more than aware the very act of observing causes a disturbance
(seb)
"Violence will not be tolerated."It is as simple as that.
"I do not threaten, by this request. I merely suggest caution. However powerful you may in your own rights, there are always things that exist that will be more powerful than you at any given time. These things prefer not to bestir themselves to remove those who wish to make themselves a nuisance."
(carlos)
He's surrounded by possibly violent people. Again.. Fuck it. Seen this movie. Done this scene. Hopefully he can fade into the background. Play a bit part.(imo)
Through coppery eyelashes she regards Sebastian as he speaks, her weight shifting slightly from one foot to the other as she stands some foot or so behind Decker.At five foot five, Carlos is one of the smaller individuals here. At five foot two, Imogen's smaller, her build whip-slender, the kind of bone structure that makes one seem even more petite, and dwarfed; particularly when compared to the hulk that is Decker. One hand reaches up, tendering back strands of hair behind her ear, much of the titan mass pulled back into a careless pony tail at the base of her neck.
(decker)
Decker looks at James.It's the Totem that links them, mind to mind. It's the cry of the Eagle that mixes into the low snarl of the Modi: Bullshit. They turn us into their lackeys, get us to dig up what they's afraid to. They get all the goods and walk away knowin' shit about us no one ever should. You wanna go ahead with this, you better have a damn good reason.
(seb)
He laces his fingers together, pressing palm against palm, waiting for either the agreement to the terms or for this to fall to pieces, so to speak. He'd watched them. He'd observed the power plays acted out in posture and tone of voice. He was well aware that, for one reason or another perhaps outside his ken, that James was below Decker on the heirarchy of things. Even if James had done all the talking, thus far. Although, that wasn't particularly surprising, considering Decker didn't present himself as much of a... people person.(carlos)
He leans in towards Bastian (not too close) and speaks softly. He has his pocket watch held in one hand."Time is a factor in this little endeavor, Mr. Bastian."
(james)
oh
this. is. just. peachywhy don't you hand a starving man a menu, say it's free, as long as he doesn't use his mouth
the Gnawer is silent for a stretch of moments
listening
thinking"At the core of every man, lays violence, Bastion. I think you know this as well as I. I am sure you also know how wide a definition falls beneath the umbrella of violence. So I wonder the transcendence offered by an agreement that continues to leave you with the upper hand in a situation that already makes me believe will risk my life.... because you have not used your own resources to uncover that which you will send me to find. I will agree to the first, but not the second.... because as you said yourself last night, I am no man's keeper. I am not responsible for the actions of others nor do I have the rights to control them. Be it yours, those of another power, or my friends. If this is unacceptable, then I apologize for wasting your time."
gaze flickers to Decker.... Imogen
the aplogy was to all of them
he cared about why the rats were dying
he knows they don't
Mother Rat forgive him(seb)
"Then perhaps you will agree that, as such, I will take no responsibility, nor step in, should any of you start something beyond your abilities. I will state now that there is no thing - man or beast - where we go that means you harm nor will attack you without provocation this night. If you choose to take offense by whatever you may come across for your own personal reasons and start an issue of violence, be it on your own heads the outcome. As you have said, we are all no one's keeper. But as Mr. Romani has stated, time is of the essense. I have bargained for one night and one night only."He pauses and turns slowly to Decker, gaze shifting to Imogen and then back to the larger youth. Then he turns back to James, speaking softly.
"If it Dr. Slaughters wellbeing that you are most concerned with, I will give you my oath that, while on this expedition tonight, no harm from man or beast shall befall her while she remains within my - our -company."
In other words, if something did happen to make the shit hit the fan, he wouldn't step in for Decker nor James, but Imogen would be gaurenteed more than one or two people at her back.
(imo)
And the woman, too, holds her silence, a quiet presence a few steps away. Expressionless comes easy to her, and her features are unreadable, even as dark eyes, a shade of impenetrable blue turn to Sebastian as the effeminate youth guarantees her safety.(decker)
At the reassurance, merely a slight flicker of his grey eyes, which are either narrowed or half-lidded; one or the other.After a beat, the thug shifts his shoulder against the wall, his arms across his chest, and lazily crosses one foot over the opposite ankle, which supported his weight. A moment he sucks on his teeth, giving a brief nod up at Sebastian. Then he clears his throat quietly and breaks his silence for the first time this night - to them, at least.
One last question.
"This invisible bigcheese of yers. Where's his turf begin?"Likely what he wants to know is, does it coincide with the Eagle's?
(carlos)
Great. Fantastic. They'd all had their say. Maybe they could agree. This century, maybe. He rached past James and pressed the elevator button. If nothing else, he would be heading down, one way or another. (Whether by the elevator or a window)(james)
"If nothing means us harm, then there would be no reason for us to harm it back."doors sliding open behind him
and the Gnawer steps inin for a penny, in for a pound
this better be worth what he's paying(seb)
"There are many..."He looks caught between amusment and confusion at Decker's choice of words to describe the instigator of this scenario.
"'Bigcheeses'. However, if you refer to he who torments the rats, then I am unable to answer. Many have whispered that he claims the city, nay, the state as his own. Delusions of granduer make it difficult for one to know what He believes at any one time. Tonight, however, we need not fear that he will come upon us, of that I am sure."
He places his arm in the openning of the elevator and gestures everyone else to follow James. He is polite; he is making sure the doors slide closed on none of them. He will be the last in and thus, the first out.
(carlos)
"Thank you, Mr. Bastian."A polite nod of his head as he steps in. Hmmm. Small enclosed space and lost of dangerous people. Could this night get any worse? Oh yeah. The smell.
(decker)
Another moment's delay. Then, with a wordless glance at James, Decker joins the others in the elevator.(imo)
And off we go. She steps into the elevator, hands shoved into her pocket, taking a half step back so Sebastian can even enter.(seb)
After Imogen has stepped in, the last of those he made the gesture to, he steps in and allows the door to slide closed. He presses the ground floor button.When the doors open on the ground floor of the reception he steps out and without word crosses the area and steps out into the night air and waiting parking lot.
(james)
well
he did his best
for whatever it's worth he's doing his best to not trap them
(and who was the first to walk into the elevator? Good going, Jamey-boy)it's days like this he really considers what it would have been like to stay in New York
the wordless look isn't returned
he's looking down
the entire ride to the first floor
he's looking down
all the way out through the lobby and into the street to head to the respective cars
he's. looking. down.(carlos)
And waiting in the parking lot is his midnight blue '53 Buick. It turned corners like refridgerator on wheels, but in a crash it was hell to dent.He opens the driver's side door and gets in, waiting for anyone else who chooses to go in his car.
Which will probably be Mr. Creepy.
(decker)
The elevator ride down is cramped and uncomfortable - not to mention hair-raising, with the creaks and squeals coming out of the machinery of the ancient rustbucket. Too late, they notice the sign - CAPACITY: 4/600lbs.But they do make it to the bottom. Piling out, the three break away from the two, and Decker waits at the shotgun seat for Imogen to open her car up. Once they get in, once the doors are shut, Decker turns and speaks to - it seems - Imogen and James both.
"They gave us their word, but for all we know their word ain't worth squat. So we assume it ain't worth squat even if it's proven otherwise. We don't start nothin' on their turf 'less we have to, but keep yer guard up." A flicker of a glance behind them. He seems about to say more, but turns roughly around, striking the dashboard with the heel of his hand.
Then he falls back into his silence.
(seb)
Yes, it appears that Mr. Creepy was going to be enjoying a ride with Mr. Suit in his '53 Buick (tank). As Decker takes shotgun in Imogen's car, so he takes shotgun in Carlos'.Let the games begin.
(carlos)
He checks the rear-view mirror as he backs the Buick out. Twitch. They don't make mirrors like they used to."Let's roll."
I've always wanted to say that...
And so, the two car procession heads off down the streets to where the rats dare not go.
(imo)
The kin's enveloping silence remains prominant down the elevator ride and as she unlocks, unarms the SUV, letting Decker into the shot gun seat and James into the back. She slides into the driver's seat, key half into the ignition as Decker speaks.His heel strikes the dashboard, and the plastic creaks, and she flinches, shoving the key the rest of the way into the ignition, turning it, and starting the engine. Dark eyes turn to watch as the buick backs out of the parking spot, shoving the car into gear, and following the car.
Sebastian Damien Miller Mon 01:32AM EST He emerges from the Buick, looking as classic as the car (save that it is for entirely different reasons) and strokes the roof of it while waiting for the others to gather around for the next step in this late-night adventure.
Carlos Romani Mon 01:31AM EST He parks the Buick tank along the curb of the road at their destination. It's safe. Stealing a car like this from a place like this is bound to attract attention. He gets out and waits. He'll follow Mr. Creepy's lead.
(james)
metal clanks as the sling shifts on climbing into the back
yep, went straight for the back doornodding silently
pulling the scraps of rags out of the trench pockets to wrap his hands again
why.... now that they've begun this journey
does he suddenly feel worsehands shoved into his pockets on exiting the SUV
tattered sleeves go down to his knuckles
hiding the prep work
making his way to Bastian and his little friendtime is of the essence, after all
(seb)
When all have gathered he turns to Carlos and offers him a flowering gesture to the other man."After you, Mr. Romani."
(imo)
The car parks, and the trio departs it, the alarm chirping, and locks clicking as Imogen shoves the keys back into her pocket. Joining the little gathering.(carlos)
The car parks, and the trio departs it, the alarm chirping, and locks clicking as Imogen shoves the keys back into her pocket. Joining the little gathering.(seb)
"Well, if you insist, Mr. Romani."A play of a smile on his thin, feminine lips as he quirks an eyebrow at the Italian Mafioso-type.
(car)
Damn. I hate it when he smiles like that..."I do, Mr. Bastian."
(decker)
Leave Imogen to get snapped up by Asher or drag her to meet god-knew-what, and he picked the latter. Great.Letting James take the lead and Imogen take the center, he brings up the rear, one hand stealing up to touch the tattoo he had not had before he left on his little visionquest. The two men's bickering over who led draws a tightjawed snort from the Modi, who otherwise remains quiet, chin set at its contemptuous tilt, eyes lazily half-lidded.
He's lived in a jungle since long before his Change. Sometimes, it's all about appearance. Show weakness, and you've halfway lost already.
(seb)
"Very well, Mr. Romani. If you insist."He turns to the trio with that same small smile that he gave to the Suit. He then slides his glance to Carlos, dark eyes seeming to dance with some sort of amusment.
"I think it only appropriate to offer your wellingtons to Dr. Slaughter. It would terribly improlite to expect her to go otherwise."
(carlos)
"Why how thoughtless of me, Mr. Bastion. Thank you ever so much for reminding me."With that he goes to the boot of the Buick and removes a pair of green wellingtons. He closes the boot of the car and returns. He offers them, politely, to Imogen.
(james)
oh for crying out loud"Where am I going. Who's leading me there. Now."
(seb)
He turns on his heel, coat flaring around him like some gy-gone ear cloak, and walks down into the alleyway where the rats refuse to go. Part way down he stoops down to the ground and there is the sound of metal scraping against concrete.Apparently they are going into the sewers.
"Down here is where the answers lie, Jukebox. As above so below."
(imo)
Watching the men quibble about politeness and who goes, and now they're talking about wellies. One hand reaches up to rub at her nose, as she stares at Carlos with muted frustration. For the first time, the good doctor speaks, since she'd declared that those two were at the door. "Your courtesy is astonishing." Dark dry sarcasm that bites, her dislike of them, or perhaps the situation, is obvious, though she takes the wellies regardless.She only has one pair of boots without dragging some Garou with her back to the Condo.
Boots are kicked off and replaced with the far too large wellingtons. And she waits for James to enter the sewers.
(james)
something crackles a strange energy as he walks through the alleymouth and follows
sends chills up one's spine, doesn't itbelow, eh?
and a brow lifts
this better be more than simply taking a look in the sewers
he could have figured that out without their pleasent company
course... he's heard stories about things that lurk in city sewers that are far more.... interesting.... than the ratshe's not bickering about who goes first
he just goes
(into the mouth of....?)Carlos Romani Mon 01:49AM EST He isn't that far behind Sebastian. He picks the manhole cover up with something akin to a grunt. He waits until they are all down below before he follows. He replaces the manhole cover once he has descended.
Decker Rohl Mon 01:48AM EST And, once again bringing up the rear, Decker descends the ladder into the manhole.
(seb)
It's dark down here, even with the fading service lights along the walls in rusting, slime covered brackets. Sebastian either doesn't care or doesn't notice. It's hard to tell, especially in this light. He seems to blend in with the murkiness of the whole situation. First the most part he stays to the edge of the water runway, but a few meters down he crosses over the rank water. Looking down each way of the tunnel there are rat eyes in the distance. Not close. Definately some 20 meters of so back. But they are there.And so are several small eyes, glowing like tiny red orbs.
(pause!)
Posted by james at October 27, 2002 12:00 AM
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