December 15, 2002.12.15.02. - let's roll - or, family values [dakota white][pine barrens on the way to ac boardwalk]
(james)
she had told him where the bus stop was
but he didn't have enough money for fare
so he didn't even pause when he walked past it
or the mile or two further on down the highway
and it doesn't seem to bother him he's almost half the state between him and his destinationthat ground covering walk doesn't stop
it's an easy gait, one that tirelessly covers the miles
strolling on by like time's ticking seconds
hands shoved into the pockets of his (newly mended) trench
dreads settled a scarf around his shouldersdark gaze lifted to see what stars he can
thumb going out everytime lights approach from behind
here's hoping someone's in the holiday spirit and will provide a ride(dakota white)
Call of the wind, that need for speed.Out and about scouting for Jimmy, who had (per usual) gotten himself lost again during one of his walk-a-bouts. If the guy could give decent directions then maybe it would be easier to find the little twat. Instead, she was left scouring the way, whipping along the highways and turnpikes. Packleader? Hah. Half the time with her group it was more like Pack Babysitter. But at least it got her out... her kid (shudder to think), Maddie, had a cold and was crying at the drop of a hat. It was enough to have her running for the hills as quickly and as quietly as possible. Sick kids weren't something she was, on a whole, comfortable with. Go figure. So instead of having to deal with it, she'd delegated the task to the band manager who was delegated the task down to the groupie bonegnawer kin. They seemed to know how to do the mommy-thing. She, in turn, had cited pack business and left (although not without being given a list of medicine to pick up while she was at it)...Vrooom...
Straight past Jukebox... 100 meters up the road the bike slid (another 5 meters) to a stop, sideways... turned around... started coming back towards the poor hitching Bonegnawer.
(james)
several cars had passed him by
and oddly? it didn't seem to matter
if he walked all the way to Atlantic City, so be it
he'd just prefer not to
and he knows his pack is busy
so he's not even bothering with the totem phoneit might be because he's thinking of the way the kinfolk reacted to him
he's just not used to that
big scary Bone Gnawer making someone nervous?
it sucked....a dark brow lifts at the bike screaming past
then the brakelight as it flicks on into skidding stop
okay, a bike is something he's rarely ridden
but a ride's a ride
and his head tilts a little
something vaguely familiar about that bike(dakota)
The bike hoons back, sliding siedways on the mud beside the road and kicking up small stones as it comes within a hairsbreath of slamming straight into the hitchhiking Gnawer. The rider was long, lean, and dressed from top to toy in black leathers (gloves included) that matched the black helmet (mirrored visor).Engine idly, sleek (black & silver) racing bike on a lean with one leg stuck out to keep balance of the metallic weight, the rider unclips the helmet and ducks their head, pulling it off with one smooth motion.
White (like as in real white) hair is exposed, a gloved hand running through the multilayered hairstyle and a albino face lifting to reward the Gnawer with a shit eating grin. Easy going, smoooooth. Laugh or you'll miss it. With the helmet gripped in one hand, the small Coyote glyph adorning it on the back is visible.
"Lookin' fer a lift, sugar-pie?"
Almost metallic seeming eyes, as reflective as any cats in the dark when a light shone in their direction, danced with some inner amusement. Singing along with Coyote, maybe?
(james)
the closer the biker gets
the more clues that begin to pluck themselves from his mind
there are some people you just don't forget
and by the time the helmet is lifting off
he's wearing that shit eating grin, too"Dakota, baby!"
that's how she introduced herself
and he's not about to argue - no ma'am
genuinely pleased to see her out on this long, lonely road"Didn't think y'all'd still be in Jersey."
y'all'd?
definitely. too. much. time. around. the. Get.
Southern slang with the Albany clip
that should sound interesting, Jamey-boy"But I'd be looking for a lift, yes. Trying to work my way down to AC. Spare a few miles?"
(dakota)
"Gigs're still pourin' in, ya know. Can't pass up cash on the side, see?"She reclines back on the bike, still astride, and the smile doesn't wash away, but more likely gets wider. She got along well with Gnawers: hell, she lives with enough of them - Garou (2) and Kin (5) alike. She tilts her head backwards, indicating the back of the bike.
"Hope ya'll have got more guts than my boys: they won't ride with no more."
The fact that Dakota treated speed limits as suggestions rather than laws was one of the reasons. The fact that she could also come off a bike in a horrific high speed accident, shake it off and walk away was another. They couldn't. The bonus of being born to two of Garou, you'd guess. See, being a Metis has some benefits.
"If yer lookin' fer cash, Coyote can hook ya up with some work."
Strong backs were always needed to do lifting and carting around, after all. That was what Jake, the pack Ahroun, was used for more often than not. Gettin' in good with the locals was also a wise decisions, since the Howl had been hanging out around North Jersey which was the Eagle packs stomping grounds, so to speak. In the end it came down to: you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours...
(james)
he? could come off the bike in certain ways he's not going to walk away from
he? also has far more guts than her boys, apparently
and his chin lifts, with a grin
accepting the challenge"Then make room."
waving her forward as if those simple gestures were enough to direct her movement
unbuckling the helmet strapped behind her on the bike
he already figures they're going to be disregarding the speed limit laws
while they're at it, he'll take the extra measure to protect his skull
however thick Momma Ruggs always said it was"Wouldn't mind that, either, if it keeps me closer to home."
home
pack
(Rune)
he'd rather not traipse half the state
but he can make a killing on the Boardwalk
and while his packmates oft don't need the help procuring food
or anything else money can buy
he won't simply receive and not give
even Bone Gnawers can pull their weight
(others need, he provides, that's the Hood way)(dakota)
She slid forward, quite used to having someone riding pillian, even if she had a habit of conveniently forgetting they were there during the passage of the ride.Considering the amout of times that her 'boys' had come off the bike due to her pulling stupid stunts while they were pillian, probably explained why they liked to keep their feet on the road. Sides, Jimmy was the sort that liked to walk everywhere: getting lost in the process, but at least he did it on his own two feet. Santo, on the other hand, just wanted to stay in one piece.
"Grab a drink 'fore ya start doin' whatever it is ya gonna be doin'?"
She runs a leather gloved hand through her hair again, pulling it back out of her face before she slides on the helmet again, obscuring all that white-white flesh and hair as well as obscuring those reflective eyes (god damn the light!).
(james)
before the helmet is pulled on
the dark gray bandana is pulled from a pocket
roping those dreads back into some semblance of order
squishing their natural poof to fit beneath the helmet
a wry grin slashing over his features at the offer"You're driving, Dakota-baby, I think I'm at your mercy of where we end up."
boy that had a lot of meanings behind it
not quite sure you meant some of them, Jamey-boy
but it's all in stride
reaching up to tighen the pack's straps around his shoulders
weight shifting to sliiiiiiiide onto the back of the bike
long tails of his trench half-folded and sat on to keep them out of the spokes
strong arms wind around her waisthe's not letting go
cause if he does?
he has a feeling he'll be off the bike(dakota)
A coyote howl of laughter as she revs the engine and the bike spurs forward like a horse smacked with a riding crop... dirt, mud and gravel flies from the tires as the bike proceeds to tear up the asphalt and head at break neck speeds towards Atlantic City.She was a good driver (so to speak) although her penchant for taking corners (while somone was pillian) at angled leans that almost defied gravity meant that his stomach would be doing twists and turns, leaps and falls, that wouldn't sit well with most. She narrowly missed being clipped on several occasions as she just made it through red lights, hightailing it with a scream of tires out of the way just in time.
Difference at the moment was that unlike when she was riding with pack - or tag-teaming a bizarre combo (tag your it!) with the pack Ragabash who had a Ninja that she hauled everywhere with her (like Dakota kept her baby close)... they couldn't really communicate the same. Their respective 'TotemPhones' were hardwired in opposite ways. Different packs, different totems, all that sort of thing.
She lifts a hand during the hectic ride and gestures with two fingers towards a pool hall along the boardwalk where she was attempting to find some place to park. Eventually she nudges several other bikes along and cuts the engine, glancing back over her shoulder at the Gnawer passenger, her voice muffled by the helmet.
"My shout this time."
(james)
he's used to being passenger with Rune
he's used to being at the whim of a ruthless Road Warrior behind the wheel
but that's inside a plush Beemer
but that's with seatbelts
but that's a car she doesn't dare get a scratch on
this?is a bit different
she better be glad she's Garou cause he holds on tight
it takes him a few (dozen) miles to get the hang of it
but eventually the grip relaxes
somewhat
and his stomach may be relatively in the right place by the time she parksho. lee. chit.
that's a rush.when the bike parks, he doesn't quite hop off immediately
forcibly untwining his fingers
taking his dear sweet time to unbuckle the helmet
he's probably a -little- paler than usual
but his grin is still game"Pax next time."
legs should be in working order about now
that's when he slides (sliiiiiides) off
helmet still in one hand
Jansport pack straps loosened back to a comfortable hug of muscular shoulders(dakota)
After his excruciatingly slow time taken to unclench, unbuckle (helmet) and slide she practically seems to throw herself from the bike, kicking a long leg over the back of the bike and pulling her helmet off, bearing that typical shit-eating grin. Watch yourself around the Coyote Children... you never know when a whim might strike them...She reaches into an inner pocket of her leather trench and retracts a pair of mirrored sunnies (no need to scare the locals) which she slides on, only to have a frown line knit her brows together and her lip curl back into a pseudo-snarl.
"Dire?"
That was out of the blue and it sounded like she was asking someone a question, just forgot not to say it outloud. Hell, Jimmy's affliction must be catching... dammit. A shake her of her head, a leather gloved hand through her head and a flick her shoulder reminiscient of a dog shaking itself to get rid of that icky feeling of being soaked to the bone.
She peels the gloves off(revealing bitch white skin and black polished nails) and shoves them into her pocket, giving James a bow from the waist (a hand flowing out towards the Pool Hall and the other at her waist) as if they were at a courtly bow. As soon as he passed her she also gives him a light smack on the ass... as is ever her way. No (most) ass around her doesn't go unmolested ...
(james)
as the bandana is peeled off and dreads shaken free to their normal disarray
a brow lifts at the sudden word escaping her mouth
oh. joy.
he seems to wear the similar look of distaste
but it's apparently forgotten at her bow
tank boot heels clicking together and his head trips and dops
.... make that drops and tipsdon't mind if I do
starling just slightly at the smack
but he doesn't seem offended at all
half tossing a grin back over his shoulder
pausing only when he's holding the pool hall's door open"Gee, seems we have a mutual friend."
that last part crawling through a sharp smile
(dakota)
"That is a Splatter-Pup that should be fuckin' put down in my estimation. Poc'lypse or not."She snorts disdainfully cause she had a bone to pick with that boy: rip out my piercing would ya, ya little snotmongrel. Dire had not won friends and influences people that night, upping and doing what he did - to an unknown and a higher rank, no less. Probably was just as well Widget hadn't been around: that could have been messy.
She sauntered (swaggers/sashays) in the pool hall, tipping him a wink and heading (unsurprisingly) straight for the bar. Blood Alcohol Level? Heh. They wish.
She taps the side of her head, a silent indication that might give the Gnawer an indication of what or why she might have spat out the name without provocation.
"He's been a bad, bad boy, a lil' birdie told me."
(james)
he can't help that grin
he simply can't"I knew I liked you, Dakota-baby."
he's not surprised at the mode of communication between them
more often than not there's that slim line between out loud and in loud speakage between his pack
and while she saunt-swag-shayed through the burgeoning crowd of people
he follows right behind
they part for her style
they part for his Rage
(full moon's a comin' baby)but it's not until he slides onto the barstool next to her
(I'm sorry, that was your stool? Move)
that words pass pass his lips again"So what'd he do this time?"
has the Gnawer a past with the Skald?
you betcha.(dakota)
"Me 'n' the Howls: well, we dislike the fucker on principle. Little Splatter-Pup went and ripped out one o' my peircings as a 'How ya Doing?' ... then proceeded to tell me I had no fuckin' right to snot him for it."A deep, bone crackling roll of her shoulders as she hunkers forward on the bar (no few stares in her direction: she looked weird dammit) with her arms crossed over the top and motions for two beers. She then swivels on the stool, head dropping into the palm of one upturned hand. A very sinister smile.
"Songs got made 'bout that but me and Insidious ain't gotten round to spreadin' it the right ears, if ya get my drift."
A pause as she slaps down a note on the bar and slides it over the tender before picking up her beer and taking a long drink.
"Seems he started a brawl: got his crowbar broke when he went and ripped out some chickies nipple ring. Fucker must have a thing for shiny stuff, ya think? Anyway, seems like the chick's buddy is out for blood. In the literal sense. Not ta mention that Splatter-Pup did this shit in front of a little kid. That's just freakin' wrong if ya ask me."
Yeah, mommy metis. She would never put Maddie in a situation where she saw that sort of violence, kin or not. Sure, the girl played Climb the Metis Mountain on a regular basis, but she wasn't inflicted with the pain of seeing her 'Guardians' going mental and ripping chunks of flesh out of people.
(james)
one albino metis
one dreadlocked ahroun
now ain't they a pair?
and he listens
oh.... he listens
and there's something in him that begins to reflect that sinister smile
something that darkens at the mention of the childpatience is a deadly virtue
and the Gnawer?
has more patience than is healthy for a saintit's obvious he doesn't like the Skald
opinions just keep lowering to find he goes ripping piercings out for fun
and then toss the violation of doing it infront of a kid?
that something seems egged on by the swell of Luna above the clouds
something that boils and twists just below tanned skin
(parents don't like it when you fuck with kids, even ones that aren't theirs)there is a toast of the bottle in thanks
then a long, thoughtful sip and swallow
and it's only then deep umber eyes look back to those sunnies"Know who her buddy is?"
(lars mckinnon)
Ripple.
There seems to be in the air that shifting of currents that sometimes happens with the predators of the world.
A shifting of fingers against hidden weapons. A shifting of eyes from behind wary looks. A shifting of perspective as a new fish enters the pond.
He's stands head and shoulders above most of the men here but isn't so tall as to be considered over-average.
Hair a stark bleach-blonde highlighted with equally unnatural scarlet red through the long almost girlishly smooth hair.
Tell that to him though.
Features are a criss-cross of hard bone and taut flesh that were it not for his youthful appearance would make one think he was just released from hard-time. More than a five o'clock shadow forming into a pale blond beard in a v-acrosst that defiant chin.
Fingers curled slightly as eyes narrowed and a dark brilliant green flicker through the pool-hall dismissively.
Already making his way over to what servers as a bartender in this whole.
Heavy well worn-combat boots beneath equally faded combat pants and in theme a black tshirt stretched taut over his chest underneath a pocketed vest you might expect to see on a swat team or someone up to equal violence less legally.(dakota)
"Santo - Insidious - said he got some contact details or some shit. Not much more details than that. Santo recognized the description of Dire right away: seems a little girl was the one telling the guy - the one who is out for the Gets blood. Drew a picture and everything... It's not like you can fucking' miss a guy who walked around with a bullseye printed on his forehead. I mean, hello, how subtle is a fuckin' 'family sigil' on your face? Hello...? Ech... he's a fuck head."Didn't look like the Metis was all that happy about the violence in front of a child... She knew what it was to have a child now and she would do anything to protect 'her' little girl. Given that the child was in actual danger to begin with. Someone touching Maddie didn't equate to her ripping their arms off. That was just so overacting.
She takes another swallow o fher beer, rolling it around her mouth, swallowing and then clicks her tongue stub against her teeth in thought.
A brief glance upwards at the change in the air, looking over the Gnawers shoulder. She lowers her sunnies (yes, sunnies in side at night) and wrinkles her nose a little, eyes unfocusing slightly for a long moment (damn theurges) before she looks back at Jukebox and tips her bottle towards Lars' direction.
"Lookit."
(james)
again, that smirk doesn't go all that very far away
whatever happend to the easy-going Gnawer they all know and love?
look up, baby, look up."Gonna need a chat with Santo, soon."
subtle enough
the point made with another gesture of the beer
then more of the fermented amber makes its way down his throat
watching her reaction
(he can't help it, it's interesting, dammit)
then he isn't quite as subtle in the next movelookit?
he does
dreads crawling over shoulders as his head turns
a moment spent scanning the crowd before seeing the taller man
oh... hello there
a good moment's study
and his gaze drifts on
all the way around before back to his companion
and a brow slightly liftsTell me more, Dakota-baby.
(lars)
A curled hand settled down hard upon the "bar". He's young if one looks hard enough but the grizzled features, facial hair and manner tend to make strangers assume he is older than his younger age."Beer."
The voice is a rough growl not because the guy seems to intentionally (or maybe...) being a dick rather from natural roughness or abuse of hard drugs/alcohol. Hard to say though most would assume the latter.
Tattered, dirty dollars are shoved across the bar as he waits with an impatient stance for the bartender to return."I'm looking for Dakota. Is she here?"
That much he new. Dakota and female. Little else had he managed to dig up about the enigmatic if locally infamous band (pack).
As he speaks further there is an elusive accent which mars-marks his words. Not from around here. In fact if one were to guess not from this side of the ocean.
(dakota)
A razor blade smile slashes across her features, a ripple of coyote mania flickering through her bizarre eyes (just contacts, right?) before she slides the lennon-style sunnies back up her nose to conceal her eyes (can't conceal all the strangeness/ stands out like a sore thumb)."More the merrier."
Looked like there a queue lining up for those who Splatter-Pup (as she put it) had pissed off or on. He was definately not making friends and influencing people... and much as people disregarded the Urrah, well, it wasn't a smart move. Tech (Weaver) and Streetwise combinations can be sheer lethal to the unsupecting.
She takes a swallow of the beer, finishing it off in one long pull, before motioning for another one to be laid on her, change from the last round still sitting untouched on the counter in front of them.
"Wolf-Wolf."
A play on 'woof woof' and enough indication as to what where when and who had just been dragged in from the winter night.
Then her name was brought up not that far down the bar. She and her pack were regulars enough down here in Atlantic City: Santo liked the pool halls and there was always someone to con... somewhere to get a gig. At least the boys had kept their little... streaking... escapade to Newark, even if that was a little close to home ofr comfort.
(st)
The tender behind the bar points with a flip of the rag he was using to polish some glasses down the bar, indicating the platinum (real white/no bleach) haired woman (long and lean at just under 6') some stools down. She had her back to Lars, face hidden, but the hand she used to prop up her head as she reclined against the bar was almost as white as her hair.(james)
he's keeping up with her round for round
he maybe hopeless at hard alcohol
but hanging with Eagle's pack he's learned to tolerate the beer
empty bottling thunking hollowly next to hersafter the guy down the bar gets his order
they're up next
and his new bottle clinks against hers"Naw... he's kinda cute if you go for that sorta thing."
grinned
absolutely unrepetantly
a playback on her play of words
nodding up a little at the gesture of rag"Seems you're fan club is following you."
(lars)
"Hm. Thanks."Another dollar shoved across the bar. Its not much but even a little tip can often lead to ease of information in the future.
Eyes of that strange crystalline green hue flicker towards her though as of yet not moving.
Rather get a feel for the chick first and already there was a creeping suspicion that was beginning to form in his skull not quite so thick as most assume.
Fingers tilt the beer up to his lips draining its contents nearly wholesale before those eyes flick to her companion.(dakota)
"Can ya blame 'em?"A shit-eating grin as she rolls her eyes behind the mirrored sunnies and turns her head to one side, giving Jukebox (and Lars coincidentally) a profile of her attractive (in a real weird way) features.
"Prime piece of ass here, boyo."
How different was it to be hanging out with someone that had a sense of humor?
(james)
screw different (..er)
it was damn well liberating
that's what it was"I know, I had it hugged up against me the entire ride, remember?"
that one punctuated by a wink
but as his beer tilts
he catches that flicked look from Lars
cool and calm the Gnawer. looks. back.
Dakota leaning against the bar between them...
well.... provides an easy avenue, really(lars)
Just like you don't approach strange dogs from behind...
Lars pushes the empty beer bottle over to the tender with two fingers in a glass against wood sound.
Heavy steps take him -around- Dakota and James rather than sneaking up on Dakota.
Sure he could he could have pulled the macho bullshit and drop in from behind. Lars may be many things though but rock stupid wasn't one thing. No matter who or what you were dealing with.
He is but a few paces away from the two before nodding in general to both then eyes settling on Dakota."Dakota."
Its meant to be a question but the low tumble of voice with its smooth honed edge makes it a statement.
(dakota)
"That's me, sugah-pie."She swivels on her stool, leaning (lounging) back on the bar with her arms crooked back against it for support and her log legs stretched out in front of her. She was an albino alright (sheer white) and she was dressed to the nines (sort of) as a industrial-goth. Black leather abounded, her lips and nails stained black, and she sported piercings in both her left eyebrow and ears.
"What can I do ya for, baby wolf?"
Yeah, she knew... (damn theurges)
(james)
while she's stark white and covered in black
sleek and dangerous and strange
he's a concoction of faded colors
the patchworked (glyphworked) trenchcoat
the haphazard array of dreads on muscular shoulders
she leans back, he's resting sideways
one elbow on the bar, the other lifting the beer yet againbut he stays quiet
this isn't his conversation
not to mention he's outranked
he's mannered enough not to interrupt
(and he's pretty sure Dakota can take care of herself, too)(lars)
There is a slight clench of his jaw at the misnomer which she dubs him. Yet unlike many of his "brothers" Lars had long ago learned that flaring temper to simple taunts often only caused them to come at you and again and again. Not that he would let insults roll off his back but there was a time and a place.Eyes are dead-pan green as they stare into her own. Lips peeled back in his semblence of a smile - a smile on a wolf.
Some part of him perhaps curious at her openess. Treading as ever thinly on the veil itself just like many of the band's songs.
Yet as long as that line wasn't crossed, right? Besides, there were those who had their opinions about such things."I expected you to be bigger."
The growl of voice reflects with the smile on the lips. Arms fold loose at his side as curled fingers dig for a pack of cigarettes that will eventually be found.
"Names Lars. I dropped you guys a message awhile back on your flyer."
(dakota)
"Ain't the size of your dick, baby boy, it's the size of the spirit you can throw."Wolfish grin answered wolfish grin. Yeah, that's right. Push the weaver theurge when she was in her element. She looks over her shoulder, moving an arm languidly to pick up her beer and takes a sip before looking back at Lars, eyes hidden by the reflective sunnies (stare at yourself, boyo).
"Manager handles fan mail, babe."
Was she deliberately misconsturing his words? Prossibly. Probably. More than likely.
(lars)
"Not well it seems. Let me know when you get it." Fan mail? Sure baby-insults to what she considers a baby wolf perhaps just for his young face. Then again in with their lifespans his age didn't necessarily mean much.
There is a tilt of a chin upwards as he shrugs. Yea, not a fan but not going to waste his time in what seems to the girl's desired time for word play - or her's. The temper only holds so long after all and fingers toss onto the bar a crumpled piece of a paper. Another flyer though not theirs.
Fingers lifting up to light the crinkled cigarette taking his time in his exit.
Sure he'd like to throw a punch or two. He'd like to do many things. But, this isn't his turf and he doesn't have a pack , a sept or a rank to stand on that would back up acting like an idiot in a public place.
Not all his kind are stupid.
(dakota)
She reaches over with a hand (other still holding the beer bottle) and picks up the crumpled paper, shaking it a little and spreading it out on one of her leather clad thighs. She looks it over, sliding her sunglasses down a little (eyes reflect the light like a cats) as she does so. She turns it over. A sniff. Shrug of the shoulders. She looks back up at Lars, sunnies down the bridge of her nose still."You wantin' a hook-up, sugah?"
(lars)
A smile this less feral than the first folds over his mouth as he takes a long drag. Then just as slowly as he began to walk away he turns around to face her."Depends."
A slight shrug of the shoulders as he stands in place just a few short feet from her throne.
Fingers loose against his side deceptive while the other casually flicks the cigarette.(dakota)
"Yeah and what on, baby cakes?"She called Decker honey-pie and sweetie the first time they met... this was just the same (tame). Everyone got little tag names from her. It was fate. It was the way it was. Heh.
(lars)
Maybe it pissed Decker off. Maybe it didn't. Maybe if she knew not just his race but his nature then she'd expect it to. Maybe she does anyway.
Surprisingly though a slight curl upwards of his lips as he shakes his head deep low chuckle forming. Its not the type of sound that hides agression beneath.
He seems to be actually amused. Steps heavy yet and slow though making it to her within several breaths."You stop calling me baby."
The smile has turned into that feral grin but this time its a grin that would fit on the face of a coyote.
(dakota)
He comes upon her, feral grin and deep chuckles, putting himself within her reach (real smart) although at least not in her face. One of her log legs lifts upwards, sliding between her legs and she pulls her knee towards her, bending, and then back so that effectively she was rubbing his lower thighs with her leg. A coyote leer and flick of her eyebrows as she slides the flyer into one of the myriad of pockets on her figure and then using the free hand to slide her sunnies back up into place (hide the eyes)."Sure thing sugah."
(lars)
One had to take chances or else risk cowering in the shadows all your life. And if coming into touching distance of Dakota was a risk? Well its obviously one he didn't feel he couldn't handle."You must be able to back up that mouth or yours else you'd not have made it this long."
Its not a smart ass comment but one of consideration. After all it doesn't take him being told to figure out what she -is-. And though they were more tolerant of her kind this side of the sea even smart-ass metis in the states he knew didn't last long unless they could back up their words.
"You want to hear me play or what?"
Fingers lift up to take the last drag off the crumpled cigarette.
(james)
he's still there
silent
and very amused
this is a delightful change from his own packhe loves them dearly
but half have no sense of humor
and Livingston he can't understand half the timeonce Dakota's bottle is empty
he reaches over to pluck it away
tapping the bar for two more
Lars is on his ownand just as smoothly as he took the bottle
he places the new full one back in(dakota)
Coyote don't back fools."He didn't either. Smart ass pranksters, yes. Warriors of a certain ilk, yes. Idiots no. And she wasn't pack leader for no reason. Usually the whole rank thing was pretty lax, they all gave and took shit from one another without a blink. If Lars couldn't deal with that or the fact that he'd be taking orders from a (gasp) Metis, then he was looking in the wrong place indeed.
"Band'll need ta hear ya, concerning music. More pointedly, Jimmy, our vocalist. He writes most of our stuff anyway. You wanna audition..." in more than one way "...then you come by the semi and show us what you've got."
(lars)
And that was the rub. A metis pack leader. Wouldn't the family lines tremble. One might briefly wonder if the pack and the band were one package. For now its only the band he's mentioned but then he's not verbose on subjects best left to closed doors."Name the time and a way to get there. I'll be there."
Simple enough. Eyes that were unblinking before have relaxed as fingers fish out yet another smashed cigarette littering tabacoo onto his pants.
(james)
knuckles crack as hands flex around the new bottle
but still, the full moon is very, very quiet
just drinking it on down(dakota)
She looks over her shoulder at the full bottle beer that James had exchanged for her empty one. She drops her chin slightly so that he could see the wink around the sunglasses before she picks it up, taking a pull from the neck of the bottle and then tilting her head to one side and then the other, cracking her neck. Slight sniff. Twitch of her shoulders."Call 'head before ya rock up. I'll make sure everyone who should be there will be."
That was also another thing with the pack, other than its casual nature, and that was the fact that they were usually scattered to the four winds doing something or other. Santo would be hussling in one place, Jimmy would be walking the lonely highways in another, Dakota would be filling her need for speed somewhere else, Jake would be doing his "Strider" thang, and Mariko would be reveling in her anime.
(lars)
"Number?"He nods towards the crinkled paper still sitting on the counter-top.
Despite his ability to track her down that had been in this case sheer luck.
And damned if he was going to go through the trouble of actually finding them as he did with their show.Truth was plain they did do their own thing so as a whole entity they were hard to find.
(dakota)
She looks back over her shoulder lazily and raises her beer above her head to catch the tender's attention. She manages to get a hold of a pen and scribbled down a number on a scrap of paper and holds it out to Lars between two fingers (touch me if you dare)."Don't go get hit by a bus or nothin' now, sugah."
Yeah. That was a dismissal, cause this Metis was a friendly one, but damn if she didn't have a chip on her shoulder still. She'd earned her position and place, fucked if she was going to let someone mess with her happy place cause it may (or may not) screw with their ideas of what was right and wrong.
(lars)
If the stranger is phased by the dismissal it doesn't show on the hard lined features. Maybe it was because he was already out the door or maybe its because he isn't as easily offended as she might expect (or like) him to be.
A long deep suck on the cigarette as eyes half close in the smokers paradise before finally he reaches out to fold the paper in his own fingers. Two fingers lifting up in a salute with the cigarette still in between as he turns silent following the same path as he entered in.(dakota)
"Ya know, there is a sore lack of humor in people these days."She clicks her tongue stud against her teeth, wrinkling her nose slightly as she continues to drink solidly, glancing sidelong at the Gnawer that had been quiet throughout the entire conversation.
(james)
it wasn't his place to talk in it, really
it was about her and her pack, not his
but he didn't seem all to pleased with the insintuations, either
and it shows
tilting his beer to clink the bottles again
amen
chuckling wryly around that beer"I'm packed with three Germans.... tell me about it."
(dakota)
She contorts her face into a mask of mock horror and raises a palm to her cheek, lowering her face down enough so that the gleam of her eyes over the rim of the sunnies was visible to him."How do you survive?"
(james)
that's when his smile gets sly"There are some perks, Dakota-baby. They ain't all Get."
muscular shoulders roll into another shrug
he's not exactly giving details?
but that trickster's glint is in the Ahroun's eyes"But it's mostly cause I went packless for a couple years and something is better than nothing. And they're not that bad... just gotta get used to it."
(dakota)
"Nyeh... I got me a Lord ta make up for a lacka Gets. She's alright, though. Sensea humor on that one, being a nomoon. She spends more time playing with Miss Kitty anime crap, but she got some weird morals 'bout her. Ain't Urrah enough, ya know?"She chews on her lower lip in silence for a long moment of silence, befor taking another drink and pondering the condensation on the outside of the bottle.
(james)
there's a bit of a frown
but then his head tilts in consideration
a Lord packing with Gnawers?
That is a new one in his books
guess she can't be all that bad
and he watches her, a minute"S'on your mind?"
putting empty bottle number three on the bartop
(dakota)
She opens her mouth to say something and then it snaps shut and a sardonic smile creeps along her black lips. A chuckle bubbles from her lips."Hold up. Incoming..."
She raises a finger and taps the side of her head in indication before she looks to be concentrating on another conversation (silent).
Coyote Whispers... Do you have a phone on you... Poor Jimmy whimpers...
Silent banter back and forth, her smile deepening and she shakes her head silently, taking another sip of her beer, finishing it off and clinking the empty bottle back on the bar.
She pulls out a mobile and dials, holding it up and speaking when whoever she had called picks up.
"Yeah, found him.... He's lost. Again.... Ya'll send someone out to pick the dozey bint up?... Yeah..." Directions are given and she hangs up, mobile sliding back into her jacket pocket before she looks back at James.
"You'd think I'm a babysitter or somethin'..."
(james)
that'd do it
he patiently waits on the Totem Phone's other line
it's somewhat amusing to see others communicate in such a way
so used to being "inside" the conversation
even his old pack hadn't had that
they were all too young and inexperienced
(and paid for it)
then flashes a grin"Think that's what Rune says about us, most of the time. Before she bought Decker the truck" yeh, Decker's, not the pack "she'd constantly be picking us up or whatever. Groceries. Weed. You name it, she takes care of it."
(dakota)
"I think Jimmy wanted the Kin ta pick him up so he wouldn't get a lecture... been missing days since I found out that he streaked in the mudd up in Newark with Santo. Damn that woulda been funny ta see."She stretches her legs out fully, toes pointing away from her to pull the muscles of her calf before relaxing again. She just seems to melt into the bar as she leans back against it.
"Do me a favor, will ya... need to be reminded ta pick up that kiddie cough medicine stuff. My girls got one of them winter coughs. Figurin' I'll forget without a call to."
Metis mommy. How... droll.
(james)
he can't help it
there's a laugh
he just can't imagine his pack doing that
there have been some interesting events that involve no clothes
but it sure wasn't streaking
and it sure wasn't the entire pack"Sure, 'nother round first? Or something harder?"
then he blinks
droll?
not by the look on his face
metis... mommy
he knows that doesn't equateand while that melting stretch sure gets his attention?
(leather and vinyl don't leave all that much to his imagination, seriously)
that statement sure as hell did, too"Your.... girl?"
he doesn't mean to gape like an idiot
doing well with only really a raised brow
there's definitely a story behind this one
he's just not all-out asking(dakota)
"Nother round sounds good."A wolfish grin as she motions for the tender to come and take their orders.
"Mah baby girl, Maddie... Though not so much a baby anymore. Rocked round ta five last month."
She tilts her pelvis up off the stool and reaches into a back pocket of her leather pants, pulling out a thin card holder and slides out a couple of small photos when she is seated again. She holds them out for the Gnawer, fanning the photos out like a deck or cards.
"That's Maddie."
She points to one photo that is of a small girl with a fey smile.
"Maddie with the Howl."
It is kinda hard to make out all the faces, but the girl was with the pack and some of their Kin, Maddie perched on Mariko's Ninja and looking very smitten about it.
The third photo was older with creases in it from being folded a few too many times in the past. Maddie, he could assume, was the little baby in a woman's arms and while Dakota was esay to pick (no shit) the other people in the photo weren't any of the pack or Kin from the previous image.
"That there's Maddie's real mom and dad." She points to two of the figures...
(james)
as she leans to get the pictures
he signals for another round
then when the pictures come out
he leans in a little
closing the space between them
brows lifting at the last one
(makes sense, doesn't it)
but his grin is soft
and it's not just the beers in himhe can hold more than three, geez
"She's a gorgeous kid."
there might be a little lingering sadness in his eyes
but not his voice
maybe fond regret"I've only got one picture of mine."
(dakota)
"Her mom and dad: dad was a packmate, see, from before Howl came about... all young and stupid, ya know. Made a pact... take care of one anothers' if anything happened. Shit happened and... I got Maddie. Drop down and drag out fight over it to..."She picks up her photo, looking down at the third, oldest photo and has her own sadness about her. Loss: that was their life.
"Yeah? Only one?"
(james)
"Yea? Had a pact like that with my old pack, too, oddly enough."there's a wry chuckle
and now it's his turn to lean to the side
pulling out a wallet
(he has a wallet?)
there's no money in it, or anything like that
and maybe he only keeps it because of the picture that's folded up inside
unfolded, there's a group in the picture
three guys and two girls
and there's a young James
fulla smiles and no regrets
he doesn't even look like he can be that happy anymore
his arms wrapped around one of the girls
a slender brunette that looked about seven months pregnanthe hasn't looked at the picture for a long time
but holds it up for her to see"Yeh. Just this one."
(dakota)
She looks at the photo as closely as he examined hers, cocking her head to one side and nodding her head slowly."I figure we have it in our destinies, our types, to always loose the ones we love."
She clicks her tongue against her teeth. It was a true sentiment for their lives, in the ways that they paralleled one another. Their lives were full of loss and pain, but it seemed to be that way for all of them in the long run. You can't fight a war - spiritual and physical - without losses on the way. She leans back and lifts up her beer bottle for a toast.
"To absent friends, lost loves, old gods, and the season of mists; and may each and every one of us always give the devil his due..."
(james)
"That we do. Shit just doesn't stop happening, does it?"spoken with a wry grin
his gaze lingers on the image for a moment longer
(what Garou in his right mind keeps a picture of Three Black Spirals and a fallen kin in his wallet?)
then it's tucked safely away
and his bottle lifted in toast"I can dig that, Dakota-baby, I can dig it"
clinked
and downed(dakota)
She slides her own photos away and clink... down goes the beer in one swift chug, slamming the bottle onto the bar."You gonna be needin' a lift back north tanight?"
She pulls out a rumpled pack of smokes, taking one and lighting it before offering the pack to James along with the lighter.
(james)
he's pretty quick about finishing his own beer, too
just not quite as fast as her
he's still getting the hang of this drinking thing
even Garou metabolism doesn't do shit when you're not in practice
or whateverbut soon enough the bottle thunks hollow
and there's a shrug that rolls his shoulders"Well, I have yet to make any money here yet.... was planning on doing that before going home. But if you've got a better idea of how I go about that, I'd prefer to be up north."
home territory
places he knows
he wasn't really complaining about the bike situation, either
he just enjoys her company
so nice to have someone with a sense of humor(dakota)
"Ya can make a few bucks with the Howl, if ya want... we got some work open, if ya don't mind hauling shit around. You'll be working with yar own Kin an' all too."She needed to really get that cough medicine also and head back North: make sure Maddie was alright and that Jimmy was in one piece...
She also seemed to be enjoying the company: much as she loved her pack, sometimes it was nice to talk shit with Garou that weren't in your head 24-7.
(james)
he doesn't take long to consider it
not long at all
in fact he's already straightening to stand"Don't mind hard work, would be nice to do something different for awhile... not to mention be around family. C'mon... you have cough medicin to buy."
see?
he remembered
and he knows all about how nice it is to be around someone that isn't in your head
someone that isn't judging you
someone that isn't about to thump your ass over a little sleight
(someone with a sense of humor, face it James, you miss that)(dakota)
She stands, stretching her lean 6' frame and flicks the tails of her trench behind as she dramatically offers the Gnawer the crook of her arm with another coyote grin and gestures to the door."Shall we, dear sir?"
(james)
he is just as much of a showman as she
that selfsame sly grin raking over features
even in the crowded bar, he has room to return the bow
stepping up beside her with a flourish
slipping his arm through hers"Let's roll."
one albino and one dreadlocked Gnawer
Posted by james at December 15, 2002 12:00 AM
one leather trench and one tattered trench
fifteen steps and they're on the street
now ain't they a pair
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