December 12, 2002.12.12.02. - d.a.n.g.e.r. [eliza-lila-rune-petar](eliza)
"Daddy went 'way to the am'zuns. Never come back."She sticks of her lower lip slightly and shuffles on the spot, then seems to have an idea spawn itself upon her.
"But'um gunna make Mommy proud. 'N you! Yuhuh! Y'am!"
Her curls bounce around her face, almost like dandelion fluff now that it was squeeky clean and in a sort of fuzz around her head from being blown dry. Another hug of the Gnawers leg before she hightails it back out of the room, down the hallway, her little footsteps punctuated at the end by the slam of an unseen door.
(rune)
Sometimes it's just almost too easy, navigating in the damnable piney woods that sprawl across Jersey's middling shores. Sometimes it's disturbingly easy, though only when a packmate is there, and only when she can stick to the roads, the roads form a black asphalt spiderweb through the thickets of trees and clumps of bobby almost-would-be-swampland-if-we-were-in-the-damned-south-but-thank-god-we-aren't-kinda places. Still, the Pine Barrens has its share of rednecks. Everyplace has its share of rednecks. And it was those rednecks she swerved to avoid as she took the last turn, following the vague assertion of pack through the twisting riddled ruin of blacktopped roads."Fucking hell."
The horn. The horn and her middle finger. Her middle finger and the horn. The rising tide of - fucking hell - rage, simmering slowly since the night before (should've fucking killed. him.) unthinking and hot as it scorches through her body, not even electric, anymore: hot. molten, brief and high, lava, something liquid and bright from the core of the earth, unsettling in its immediate ferocity.
Two Xanax. (She pulls over to the side of the road and reaches for the glove compartment. There's a prescription bottle there, though the name on the prescription isn't hers, is never hers. Three Xanax. Four. Climb out of the car and have a cigarette - this isn't natural, this is all too natural, I want to kill someone. I should have killed him. Who? Don't know. ) Four Xanax, and a cigarette smoked briefly and furiously as she leans against the hood of her car in the middle of fucking nowhere, a second, then a third, before she starts feeling it, smooth as silk sliding through her muscles, the sweetest of vipers, the most certain of serpents: medication. Lovely. Now.
I feel better.
The car again. The keys, the ignition. It stars, and she isn't surprised. It should start, shouldn't it? Bet that eeeeeeeeeeeeeasy high would were off in an instant if it didn't. But it starts. Reverse. First gear. Second. The road unfolds like a ribbon before her, like a river of night and she follows it, half-an-eye for the double yellow lines, half-a-sixth sense for the of pack.
(Where? There. There. Headlights in the driveway, sweeping across the close seeping growth, not yet died back for winter. There? Here.
Apparently. Yeah.
Booted feet on the driveway: stumbling into the mud. And on, and on, and so. on. Slim white hand hangs above the door.
He. si. tates.
(Maybe I'm interrupting?)
Knocks. Twice, and no more.
(james)
the smile is soft, at her shuffle"Just because he hasn't come back, doesn't mean he's not watching you, and doesn't mean he won't know of your deeds when you do them. But I'll be just as happy if you make me proud, too."
it seems he has a new little friend
and he doesn't really mind
Decker can bring the groceries
he'll play with the kidschrist... they are Eagle Scouts
and it's after the slam of the door that he finally turns back to his hostess
"I hope I wasn't overstepping...."
letting that drift off
he doesn't know their pasts
but he couldn't help himself
though a brow lifts at the sound of the car in the driveway
the boots in the mud and onto the patio
but it's not his place
he doesn't get up to answer
even if he knows who it is(eliza)
"Not at all. It's good for her to hear such things and they'll mean more coming from you than me, I assure you."A soft smile and husky chuckle as she finishes her tea and places the empty mug back on the table, rising slowly by pushing the chair back with the back of her knees as she stands. She wasn't too surprised about her little daughter forgetting to say goodnight to her, as she was well aware of her fascination with Garou, especially the sort that the girl was meant to be when she grew up. If she did. The world was a precarious place, after all. Dangerous. Tainted.
She lifts her head at the sound of the knock on the front door, tilting it to one side as the sound of King scrabbling out from under the sofa became more than audible. The large Rottweiler launches himself at the door, only to gain his own animal 'sixth sense' and recognize that it was that stood outside the door. One that was like the guest at the table. One that seemed a helluva lot more pissed off. THUMP The Rottie, King, slams into the front door. It appeared he was good at the launching part, but not the stopping part. At least not on polished wood floors.
Thus, the Rottie backs up whining at the door and huffing softly under his breath. It was an apparent decision maker for Eliza as she walks around the table, fingers brushing the back of James' chair, perhaps so she doesn't run into him completely. She crossed the room, opening the door enough so that Rune has a good view of her, but not enough to let King get out or to allow too much of ht living room heat to escape.
"Hello?"
(petar stanislaus)
The rented SUV is like many of the others that dot the landscape of this rugged terrain, save for it's fairly new and overpriced....something Petar himself would never purchase. Darkness affords him little view of Batsto, which suits the regal seeming man just fine, he wasn't really here to sight see. At least not tonight. Blocks flanked by gothic churches and the young dressed the way late teens and young adults do in America have been left far behind in favour of this more rural setting.
Twin yellow lights brighten the dirt road as the dark 4 wheel drive eases up towards the cabins. Past the rows and rows of smaller ones, back along a small street naked of any signs or direction. Further yet, until he's nearly driving the monster of a vehicle into the woods. Then he turns, the headlights flashing rudely into the windows of the few cabins back this far.....in front of one of the few empty ones the black beast stops. The engine, which was near silent in its lulling purr, dies. The inside of the SUV is near as dark as the night blanketing the woods around it.
(rune)
The world is a precarious place. Dangerous. Tainted. Dying. Dead - if you listen to some - already, long. fucking. gone.The woman at the door - she's hard-edged, despite the assertion of curves sheathed in leather, despite the (soft.) curve of painted red lips and the lush lowering black lashes, despite the pallor of her fine features and the expense sunk into her clothing: despite it all.
Pissed off? Maybe. Not so much anymore now that too many benzodiazepines have worked themselves into her system. Dark eyes - swallowing pupils - half-focus, and the edge of a smirk coils itself on her mouth. Still, there's something - no doubt the dog can sense it - beneath the venear of calm that spells out danger, with a capital D.
D. a. n. g. e. r.
...but it's drowned now, beneath the slow seeping high of her downers, wise choice (she always carries them. she's fucking. addicted. baby.) those. Least it wasn't crystal meth (anymore). Least it wasn't cocaine.
"Don't mean to disturb," and beneath the smirk, a half-smile, one that doesn't feel entirely sincere (it's the drugs) but not precisely insincere either. There's a self-deprecating edge to it. "Felt something. Y'know?" Dark eyes narrowing in lieu of perfect focus, though the wide pupils don't quite respond. (Eliza - with all her expertise - will no doubt recognize that reaction, the struggle against faintly dulled sensibilities, and on, and on, and so no.) Pure breed. Well then, "...pack. If I'm interrupting, I'll go."
(james)
there's the softest of laughs
a warmth and a regret mixed into the same, singular sound"I don't mind telling her such things, to be honest. Don't have any of my own to tell."
his voice follows her as she moves to the door
but he falls into silence a she answers
unsure of how much he'd distract her
and even he could feel the underlying Rage in his packmateelbows smoothing over the table
sliding forward as he half folds onto the flat surface
chin resting against bicep
just to give him a better view of the door
(and the two..... very.... beautiful women standing there)he can hear the words
he can hear the depreciative slur of Xanax
he can hear the Rage that ebbs so gently beneath the drug-hazed surface
lifting his chin a bit to call out"Hey Rune..."
though he's a bit confused on just what she'd be interrupting
to him? no matter what, she's always welcome(eliza)
"Not at all. Come in."Up intil the moment that Rune actually spoke, Eliza hadn't looked at the other woman's face. When the words had started to come, her eyes had shifter slightly from one side of Rune's figure upwards and uncannily to where the woman's eyes would be. She tilted her head to one side, long curling hair sliding over one shoulder, and stepped back to allow the door to open enough for Rune to step in, if she chose. She could feel the rage that slip-slided of Rune, could hear the faint nuances in her voice, and instincts read the imagry of Danger easily enough. She'd been around Garou for many years and many of them read in a similar way, although on differing levels. King didn't stick his nose into Rune's crotch, as he had done to James, but backed up whining and huffing, half tempted to bark but not while the door was open and the female Garou could get at him, thank you very much!
Eliza, in comparison to Rune's outfit, was dressed down. A long pale brown dress that swirled around her legs while she walks, a hint of flesh with ever step, as the skirt parted where there were slits up the front that almost went up to her thighs. Over it, for the added warmth in this weather, was a dark green sweater that had an oversized neck, allowing it to slide off one shoulder, even as the rest of it clung to a long willowy frame.
"Drinks?"
This directed, it would seem, to both of the packmates at the same time, as James had finished his not long ago and it was polite to offer Rune one also while she was at it. While Rune radiated rage, Eliza was at the other end of the spectrum, wrapped within a palatable sense of calm that also seemed to encapsule the house and property surrounding.
(rune)
The same - singular - sound.Perhaps she heard him through the door. Perhaps Eliza could sense the calming effect her packmate's voice had on the Glass Walker Ahroun. Perhaps Eliza assumes it is just her own sphere of influence, evading the Ahroun's hair-trigger senses, invading and pervading her own drug-induced sense of almost-calm.
"Drinks." The voice, raw with cigarette smoke, raw with the assertion of winter, outside. But Garou don't get sick, and it could only be the cold, or the smoke breathed in through fine moist membranes, exaled between curving red lips that would make her so hoarse. "...yeah, sure. Sounds good."
Doesn't look like she needs a drink. Doesn't feel like she needs a drink, either.
"Hey James." The retort of high-heeled boots on fine wooden floors, the long, sure pace with which she walks, the arrogant composure beneath the discomposure of foreign substances in her blood is never lost. No matter how many times her mind betrays (and betrays and betrays her), her body is sure and confident. Her gait is long and true. She sweeps past the backpeddling Rottweiler in the general direction of her packmate, pausing to cast a glance toward Eliza. "Mind if I smoke?"
At least she asked.
"'m Rune, by the way." - by way of introduction. And continues, repeating herself (never quite comfortable around Kinfolk, despite her own family, despite it all.) "...thanks."
(petar)
The door opens, the dome light comes to life, illuminating the man within. Dark hair, dark features....dark. The surrounding night seems to bend to him, as if his form were accepted, melted within the shadows, rather than slicing through each with his fair skin. He is young, though his age is hard to guess by appearance alone. The door shuts. Thump. Petar, with dark wool over coat hanging like a veil of midnight on his average height, walks to the back of the SUV just as the hatch slowly eases open (smooth....). Bags rest within, many designer bags with foreign names, each letter of that extravagant name costing more than most individuals pay each month for their rent. He stares at them lazily for a long moment, eyes so blue their almost navy in hue glare at the insolent luggage (how dare you make me carry you...) and he pushes up the sleeve of his coat...eyes the shimmering expensive watch on his wrist....and tugs the first bag out of the back of the vehicle.(james)
he watches Eliza walk in
how she floats across the floor
her careful steps melting in a smooth gait
the trail of fingers across the furniture to guide her way
(damn. she's. hot.)he watches Rune walk in
how she stalks across the floor
her confident steps surge of vicious energy
the trail of air moleculrs parted by her passing crashing together in her wake
(damn. she's. hot.)think about the tea, James
"Yes please, Eliza.... that would be great."
a boot moves beneath the table
scrape of wood on floorboards as he scoots a chair out for his Be.. pa... lo.... Rune.
offering a soft grin in greetingthen his attention turns to King
the skin over his throat ripples
and what comes forth is a grunted bark
while it may not make sense to the other two women in the room
the meaning is clear to the Rottie
S'allright
gotta love growing up among the mongrels in the backalleys
you learn the slangas his packmate sits beside him
maybe it's the calming air of the place
maybe it's because of her arrival
or maybe it's something she doesn't yet know
but he looks happy
genuinely. fucking. happy.
he just can't stop that little grin
it's something she's never seen before
(eliza)
"Eliza."By way of her own introduction as she allows Rune to enter, closing the door behind the woman after stepping out of the way. She leans against it while Rune crosses the room until the hears the sounds of footsteps stopping and the scrape of chair legs against the floorboards. Then and only then does she cross the room, graceful, but at the same time careful as to where she tred. She passes both of them, passing through the archway that led into the small kitchen, leaving only the sounds of her preparing drinks for the three of them.
King, on the other hand, perks up at the sound emitted by James and cocks his head to one side before he huffs back at the man and proceeds to wedge himself back under the sofa, which is an amazing feat in and of itself, considering his sheer bulk.
There is the faint sound of glasses clinking and a few minutes later, after the fridge opening and closing, she returns with three glasses held precariously between her two hands. Looked like orange juice. Smelled like orange juice. Or at least, the one that was handed like Rune smelled like straight orange juice. She had heard that slur before and she wasn't about to tank the Garou up on alochol. She sets the glasses down with more caution that perhaps seemed to be needed before she pulls her chair back out with one bare foot and resumed her seat at the table.
"You are one of Decker's packmates also, then, I assume?"
(rune)
It's something she's never seen in him before - that damned grin - except in flashes, and then only bifurcated little moments betweentimes, between worlds, between.Slim hand settled on the highest slat of the proferred chair, fine fingers curling beneath and around the wood (capable, killer's hands), some sense of solidity transferred from the wood - not to her body, which needs no such reassurance - but to her mind, which - perhaps - does. Rune settles in, easy as breathing, curving her body to fit the chair, swinging long legs out beneath the table, crossing them at the ankles in lieu of propping them up on one of the chairs (mud on her expensive boots: she has some couth). Her free hand curves down to her pocket, settles around the cigarettes, but - no response - and she didn't usually smoke in the house, so she certainly wasn't going to do so without leave now - remains there, curved around cardboard.
Sniff. Taste - a bare few drops of liquid swirled across her tongue - before she sets the glass back down again and leaves it on the table.
"Thanks." Her voice is easier now, more clear, and her dark gaze focuses on the wall opposite, seeking some pinpoint of calm in the irregular haze that still lilts and spills and rolls and moves beneath the fine sheen of calm granted by drugs of the presence of a pair of soothing individuals. "...yeah, I'm one of Decker's packmates."
(petar)
One bag is slipped over his shoulder, the other held in his free hand...the one not occupied by the keys to the cabin. He choose one of the few isolated wooden...things....and with a quick glance around the young man notes that one in particular is awake with lights on inside. Petar makes the slow trek up towards his own cabin, unlocks the door, flicks on the lights and allows a priceless look of disdain to flash across his regal features. He wipes his fingers on the wool coat, and makes a mental note that it must now be cleaned.His bags are set down inside with a bit of disgust and he turns again, towards the SUV, keys jingling as he moves.
(james)
he's just thrilled
he's all but beaming
something..... really got to him
and now?
he's even more thrilled that Rune's here to share it
even if her only sharing in it is just simply being here"Thank you."
his attention torn away and to the glass
oh! juice!
another rarity for him
at least.... pure
normally there's vodka or something else in it
and after a sip?seems juice does not come without vodka
talk about a surprised palette
guess you shoulda sniffed yours, too, James
so he sets his glass down infront of himself
and, without a sound, reaches and picks up Rune's
by her reaction?
he figured out who got the vodka and who didn'tquiet now, this is their conversation, for now
he's just still grinning about Lila(eliza)
"Do you all live in the city?"Polite conversation between relative (or complete) strangers. It was always a little hard to do, but she didn't seem to uncomfortable which may just be her temprement, or the fact that this was her home and therefore, technically, safe ground. Decker never spoke of his pack when he was with her, which wasn't all to surprising, all things considered. He wasn't a champion of small talk. Although he had managed complete sentences the last time he was around, which was a bonus, atleast. Either way, she hadn't known much on his pack, or their tribes, so to speak. Her contact with Garou, of late, had been patchy at best. Mostly it was her own kin, her own blood, that came calling these days.
Then without any sense of warning, she arches an eyebrow and looks down at the table top, as if peering through it as she cants her head to one side, listening to a very faint sound.
"You're meant to be in bed, young lady."
Indeed, quite as a vole, a little body had crawled down the passage way and under one of the far chairs of the table and was trying to get to the other end undeterred. But Rune's legs were in the way and pushed at by a small hand, as if that could get them to move. The pushing stopped at the sound of Eliza's voice.
Oddly enough King had come out from under the couch, but crouched close to the ground and was creep crawling towards the table, watching who or whatever was under there, tail wagging slowly back and forth at this game.
(rune)
Rune notes the juice switch only peripherally, though after a moment her own hand closes around what was James' drink and is now her own. There's another sniff -attentive - and the slow spread of an amused smirk across her features, which translates itself to her body: tense shoulders relaxing faintly, though the taut musculature is still visible beneath the lines of her creamy, furlined winter coat, taut body reeeeeeeeeeelaxing into her perch with a half-sliding sort of move lower into a distinctive slouch, upper body an inverse curve above the long stretch of leatherclad legs."Suburbs." Rune replies, drawing her legs back (it's not the child's whim that causes the unexpected action, it's the smile on James' face) to allow the girl's passage. "North Jersey. Hibernia or some such - "
...shit. The first sound voice, the vowel swallowed along with a good long draught of James' spiked drink. And when she comes up for air? Amused - more of the distinctively pissy aura fading and something like laughter weaving itself into her tone. "...by the way, James can't hold his liquor, ma'am. I can. Just though I should mention it."
(petar)
There are more bags, but perhaps he presumes that other cabins are nicer? Maybe the luxuries he is accustomed to reside in one of these small shanties...and for a long moment, the cold not an issue to the dark man, he looks about him at the other hovels....eyeing each one in turn a little too curiously. It's then that something catches his eye, his keen attention having been snared hook line and sinker.His head cants. Eyes narrow to read lines and curves which form a language unbeknownst to mortal man. Fianna.Welcome.He very nearly laughs at the comical consideration easing through his quickly moving mind. Another few moments pass before he slowly straightens (as if there were a need at all...) his coat and starts towards the cabin, with the wind chimes, with the glyphs, with the lights on. Surely, the canine within would hear the ground crunch beneath his dark leather boots as he heads towards that very porch and that very door.
(james)
there's a slow nod
then he remembers himself"Yeh, up north.... I was down in AC trying to earn a little extra cash, but didn't do well and had to hitch my way this far. Ride dropped me off about three or four miles down the road, how I ended up walking past your place."
and all of this said in covering his slow lean to the side
it was King that had clued him in
the dig at his ability to hold his drink only rewarded with but a glance
and those hands covered in what may have once been gloves?
dive under the table
grabbing this mysterious young lady vole
snatching her from beneath the protective sheild of (all but mom's senses) wood
tiny body lifted up to face leveland a single brown brow lifts
and he rearranges
turning the little girl right side up to not stare at her knees
and again
the brow lifts(eliza)
King's ears perked up a the sound outside and he huffed once, then twice, then barked sharply. He'd run into the door twice tonight. He wasn't going for a third. He wasn't that stupid. he did stand though, hackles across his shoulders rising, because from across the living room he couldn't smell the approaching person, but he could hear them. It was enough. Hackles up and then flattening as his tail drooped, a quick look over his thick-set shoulder at Rune and James. Who was the bigger badder ones in the room? Well, that was obvious. A huff and rumble in James' direction (the one that had deigned to speak to him) that would be unitelligable, of course, to some, but not to James.Noise. Look. Go.
Meanwhile, Lila, a dark haired waif of a four year old was lifted from under the table, upside down, and giggles, clucthing Rounie, the Pound Puppy toy that smelled faintly of Dire, to her as she wriggled until turned right way up. She reaches out one small hand and grabbed onto of Jame's dreads, tucking it under her chin as her eyes wander to Rune and get a little wide. Being comfronted by the Walker's legs was a little different than being confronted by her face to face.
Eliza, meanwhile, merely sighs, shaking her head with a slightly amused smile. There would be no bed time for Lila so long as James was in the house. She may fall asleep, assuredly, but not in her bed. Arguing with the child was useless; she was stubborn to a fault. As to be expected from any who were going to end up an Ahroun, as had been foretold already. Tempre tantrums could be squashed with judicious use of special talents, but coercing her to bed. Impossible now. Eliza, like the dog, cocks her head to one side, listening to the sound of feet coming up the drive way.
"Busy night."
(rune)
"Yeah?" Surprisingly enough, for the moment, Rune has nothing to say. Her gaze slides toward James, or - more specifically - the child in James' lap, and as the girl stares at her, she stares back at the child for a long, silent moment, before breaking into an uncomfortable approximation of what she must think would be a soothing enough smile. Painted lips curve slowly, but the curve is uncomfortable and somehow wrong on her mouth - (a kid? hope it doesn't piss on him. sort of smile. how the hell do these things work? sort of smile. isn't someone else supposed to handle such things? sort of smile.) - though at least her teeth weren't showing. "Guess so."Her hand tightens around her pack of cigarettes, unseen and far too strong, biting into the hard cardboard box, popping the right angles and puffing the long flat lines outward. At last, she relieves the child of the burden of her gaze and looks toward the door (she'll never be a mother.) "Want me to see who it is?"
(petar)
Tall, with dark hair and shadows playing hide and seek with his features, the man that makes his way towards Eliza's cabin more than likely sticks out like a sore thumb....slow and sure steps that scream of regal bearing and a lineage that would take an hour to recite. With his hands in the pockets of his wool long coat, Petar takes the first, then second step...then the rest up the porch, and the few more to close the distance to the door. A glance ...from right to left...is given and soon....his knuckles rap on her door. Knock. Knock.(james)
he basically came to the same conclusion that Eliza had
he had been half-expecting their little visitor
and when she's righted, Lila's set on his thigh and towards Rune
that shine that's in his eyes now?
that should explain everything to his packmate
that's why he's so damned happy
the Gnawer seeming to bow beneath the heavy dreads and whispering at the child"This is Rune, another packmate of mine."
but that's when King's gruff grunt gets his attention
and there's a slight nod, up, and some sound only heard by canine ears
then a shake of his head towards the Walker
Nah, I got it
the child slid off his thigh and replacing himself on the seat as he stands
and, even without children of his own, deftly untangles himself from the little girl"Keep my seat warm for me, I'll be right back."
and the tall, dreadlocked raggedy man gets up and moves towards the door
right as Petar's knocks sound
soon enough the handle twists
and he's got the door open a bit
just enough to see out and see him
but not enough to let any more heat escape than necessary"Help you?"
(eliza)
Boldy the child, Lila, stares back at Rune when she is sat on James' chair, wriggling so that she covered as much of it as possible (taking the responsibility of keeping it warm seriously) and her little legs stuck outwards slightly. She cuddles Rounie to her flannel covered chest and continues to stare at Rune before she finally speaks."I'm gunna beya Roun too, yknow."
She says it in a way that challenges Rune to disagree with her statement. She was trying to look as big and bad and tough as Rune did (looks at those lips!). It was doubtful however that the Walker would be so inclined as to have an arguement with a small child. Although, stranger has happened. Nothing as amusing though as the child climbing all over Decker, to get a better look, and having to be peeled off him and set aside. The Modi seemed to like the girl as much as Rune apparently did. James was the odd one out, apparently.
(petar)
And the man that had been there moments before, the face set with eyes of disgust and disdain melt away. And he is no more the rude and regal Prince, but rather the modest, humbled young foreigner....seeking kinsmen (never.ever.think.you're.equal.to me) His face is young seeming, but his age could be placed in his early twenties, at least. A slight sheen of facial hair can be seen, and those incredibly dark blue eyes peer up from James' shoes, to his midsection and finally his eyes.
"..Forgive me...I am...new to this place...I saw the sign upon the chime...." He even barely nearly blushes. "I am interrupting...I apologise." His words are clipped and sharp, Russianmost assuredly. In that light, in that moment, the shadows have bled away...the darkness has been parted to allow a bit of light to ease over his boyish good looks....and he smiles.(rune)
James rises, and the child is replaced on the seat, and Rune is left......looking at the girl, again. Isn't this awkward?
"You like make-up?" it's sort of like a peace-pipe, offered to some strange, opposing tribe that nonetheless looks just like her, only... well, smaller. Much. much. smaller. The awkard smile is replaced - at last - with a luminous, self-deprecating smirk. When Rune was that age, she liked make-up. And hair dye. Actually, when Rune was that age, she had pink and orange hair, and spent three-quarters of her waking hours soaking up a contact high. "Uhm, yeah. I'm an Ahroun too." One brow rises in faint surprise - it. talks! - while one hand flails for her drink and the other, well, the other just continues to crush her pack of cigarettes. "How'd you know?"
She could really use some nicotine right now.
(eliza)
"I'm gunna be big'n'tough'n'stuff just' like James. Im nut gunna be a sourpussy like Dekah. Nuhuh. Im gunna be Fienenna too! Hah! The Thudges sayed it."Lila had a big smile on her face, proud and again, pushing to see whether Rune was going to argue with her. Thudges. It takes a child to think up a new way of saying old words.
"Manners, Lila."
Eliza cautioned her daughter before taking another sip of her drink, emotionally-blank eyes staring in the direction of the front door and could be mistaken for watching James, as she wasn't leaning to either side to see whom he was speaking to.
(james)
oh, sign of the chimes
sign of the times
modest young foreigner
long as he keeps the thesad up?
s'all gonna be goodwith the calming aire that seems to permeate the cabin
right now Dire and Lazarus could walk in, together, and he'd still be in a good mood
and a muscular shoulder lifts in a shrug beneath the light brown dreads"Nah, you're no more interrupting than the rest of us were tonight. C'mon."
the Gnawer steps back
door swinging little wider
nodding to invite the other man in"Hey Eliza, seems you got another at the table."
and once the newcomer is inside
the door is closed and locked
a glance to the enormous Rottie
Hey King, look, another crotch for you to terrorize
which is followed by a sly smile
no.... innocent.... innocent smile
and the lanky young man makes his way back to the table
tattered BDU's slouched around the tank boots
but the sweater seems fairly newbody folds to reach over the chair
lifting Lila up
and sliding himself back into it
before setting her down again on his thigh(rune)
"You wanna be big an' tough like James, you can't be a Fianna," Rune replies, painted mouth still firmly settled into her trademarked smirk. Dark brow rises and her gaze slides toward the seat as James lifts the child back into his lap, searching for a telltale sign of - well - you know. Nothing.Maybe it's in diapers? How much do those things absorb anyway?
...just drink, Rune.
And so, she drinks. In fact, she drains her drink in one long gulp, swallowing hard against orange juice and vodka, swallowing hard against the prickly weight of the child's attention, which mercifully will switch to James now that he's back in the picture. Could she look anymore discomfitted?
Maybe.
(eliza)
The cabin was larger than most in the area, set back on an acerage that was lined with trees to give privacy to the occupants. From the pillows on the couch to the hangins on the wall and throw rugs on the floor, everything was richly textured and of rich, warm colors that reflected nature - reds, browns, golds, greens.The setting that Petar was faced with was three people (and one small child) sitting around a dining room table that was flushed up near an archway that led into a small, but well appointed kitchen. Two young women, one young man and a four year old girl-child that had firmly attached to James' dreads with one hand, the other clutching a dog to that had seen better days.
"Fiennana's are baddera than Fensisis!" and Lila stick her tongue out at Rune before burying her face against James, now peeking at Petar.
King, the enormous muscle-bound Rottie seems more comfortable around James now, although stays clear of Rune... before he puts his snout into Petar's crotch for a good sniff. Male bonding at it's best (or worst).
(Petar)
He takes the dogs nose being in far too personal spaces in stride. He doesn't break it's fat thick neck like perhaps he may want too inwardly. No he smiles, blushes a bit more, and reaches a hand out to let the Rot sniff. Not near as much rage as Rune .... yet not the kinship James may share with the dog. His hand slips back into the pockets of his long coat and he offers each in turn a smile. The child is graced with an even wider smile, a smile that makes his face (darkness) light up and even exposes a bit of his (perfectly white and straight) teeth."I should not interrupt...I saw your chimes...and was grateful for it. I will be staying in a cabin not far from here....I am waiting for my sister to come." Each word is thought about before it's spoken as English isn't his first language. Rune is given no more than a brief glance, maybe her rage is too overwhelming for the young man?
(james)
he can't help the slight chuckle hearing the sniiiiiiiiiff
even with regeneration
that? could really hurt
settling comfortably with the child on his lap
even with her firm hold on long dreads
tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth"You should always have pride in your own Tribe, Lila, but each serves it's purpose within specialty. There's some things the Fenrir are better at than the Fianna, and the other way around like you said."
and a boot kicks out
sliding the fourth chair out to invite Petar to sit"Join us.....?"
the silence lingering to ask the name
dark umber eyes lifting to the man in question(rune)
"Urrah are badder then them all, babygirl." It was as close to familiar, as close to affectionate as Rune could get, and though the term was meant to be an endearment of sorts, it could well play out differently with any proud child. "...though the Fenrises, as you call 'em, would probably dispute that, and the Fianna would just tell a fu - " fucking " - ...fine story. Or something."(Yes, like she has any room to speak. Her glass is now empty, and she tries not to look at it expectantly, attempts to remain still and calm and serene as - fuck, serene as what, exactly? The similar for which she is reaching runs away from her shrouded mind, and Rune shrugs faintly in resigned response. )
Drawing long legs back to make room for Petar's own beneath the table, Rune settles her free hand on her knee. Some amused snort flares her nostrils as she considers the difference between her response, and James' own.
(Eliza)
"All family are welcome in my home."Eliza unfolds herself from her chair, pushing it back slowly. She hadn't been looking in Petar's direction until he spoke, then her eyes lifted and slided to the side so that she was looking towards his face. She placed her glass back on the table and gesturing to the chair that James had so 'politely' slid out from under the table with a well placed boot.
"Would you like something to drink?"
Seemed like the rest of them were having something to drink, so it was no fuss to get another one while she as up and about. She'd heard the empty clink of Rune's glass against the table top, which meant that she needed a top up. This time, more than likely with alcohol in it, so there wasn't another round of swapping-drinks between the packmates.
And it looked like Rune had decided to debate with the four-year old child on exactly which Tribe was the biggest and baddest. Didn't she know? Children always won in the long run. If only because you give up trying to convince them otherwise.
(petar)
Hands leave the cover of the coats pockets and fold a bit uncertainly before him. He nods deeply and smiles, taking the offered seat Petar sits and looks at the lot of them before his eyes follow Eliza out of no where else to rest his gaze, perhaps. "Perhaps just one drink...I'm very tired from my trip...." He intones in the sharp clip of his native accent, on near whispered tones. "....Petar. Petar "Storms Heart" Stainislaus....Cliath son of Silver Fangs..." His greeting is not whispered, but spoken proudly, as if he had every right to sing praise to the family name and tribal sign he was birthed under.(rune)
Fortunately, the child hadn't said anything in response, (yet, at least) though perhaps the Glass Walker could sense the wind-up coming - the sharp indrawn breath, the narrowing eyes, the faint concentration on unformed, childish features. If so, it has nothing to do with empathy and everything to do with recognizing herself (motormouth) or some aspect thereof in the kid.Eliza refills her drink, and Rune drains it - without ever coming up for breath (now that's a feat) - in one long, swallowing draught that can be heard even if it can't be seen. The drag of the chair legs along the wooden floor, scrapscrapscrap, the creak of leather as she rises.
"Pleasure. Rune, Fostern Glass Walker Ahroun," the glass clinks on the table, her tone is burred by cigarettes and booze. "...but I gotta see a guy about a thing, so, you'll forgive me - " - and my ill bred ass. The smirk quickens with the unvoiced thought. " - for not staying to chat."
From the depths of her right coat pocket, she pulls a wallet. From the depths of a wallet, a few bills, the denominations hidden by the pair of single dollars atop the others, hidden further as she folds them in a deft gesture and hands them off to her packmate.
Cab fare. Have fun with the kid.
Her voice sounds in his mind, and his mind alone as she glances toward Eliza. The faint tracery of a smile finds crawls across her painted mouth, looking - for all the world - like the smile was for their hostess. "Thanks for the drinks. Y'all have a good night." Rune pushes the chair back toward the table, then turns on her heel and heads out the door.
[cont'd]
Posted by james at December 12, 2002 12:00 AM
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