January 13, 2003.01.13.03. - comerabishu/milk carton cub [imogen-sheribelle-danny] *fog[nikki's diner, jersey city]
(james)
Decker was out with the truck
Rune was out with her baby Beemer
so when he got the call to meet her?
James was taking the bushe had actually had several interesting conversations along the way
Hibernia to Jersey City is something of a ride
especially with all the stops
but here he is, in all his raggedy glory
dreadlocks, pathwork quilt of a cloak, tank boots
(yippe-kay-ay motherfucker)
quietly making his way towards....dark eyes drop in the search of memory
oh yeh... .Nikki's(imogen)
Her eyes narrow slightly and for a moment or two she looks at Sheribelle with a sharp gaze. She's always direct, but this stare was almost an invasion of the teenager's privacy.Then after a moment, the intensity leaks away, leaving the impression that it may have only been her imagination. "A sign, ay?" Quiet, almost disinterested. "Huh." Non-commital. A sign. Perhaps she is thinking of the stories she's heard of apocalypse and their signs.
(sheri)
Gaze lifts (and widen slightly, impossibly round and so vibrantly colored the other sidee of the coin) and meets the intensity of that gaze evenly, without flinching, without even seeming to care for teh invasion. They can only see what you let them see. She returns hands and gaze to work as the intensity leaks away, her smile as easy as ever, slight shoulders lifting in little shrug as she nods. "That is the feeling I got, yes. There was more she would not tell me, of course, being our first meeting. I definately got the feeling the nightmares would not cease until she found out their cause."
Perhpas it is another story, that should be taken into consideration, perhaps there is a greater force at work that has drawn them together.. perhaps... it is only the storytellers idealization of what really occurred.(imogen)
A faint sound in the back of her throat, more a sound to show that she is listening as she finishes off her coffee, disliking the cold taste of bitter liquid she hardly liked hot.She shrugs slightly, starting to pull out another cigarette, "Then maybe it will make more sense in time."
(james)
the bell above the door jingles lightly
and the Gnawer steps in from the cold
there's a dramatic pause by the door
long enough for him to look around for the kin
yep, bright myriad reds
the colors of fire and autumn and sunsets all wrapped into one
that's her, ten o'clockdunno who she's with, though
but that doesn't seem to matter much to him
she called him there so she's stuck with him
but he's polite enough to not obliquely interrupt
making sure they both see him approach(sheri)
She nods, slight, though her smile remains. "Perhaps it will. She wondered, of course, if there were others who shared her dream. A feeling of connection that she couldn't shake." A slight shrug, then there is the blast of cold that aches around ankles with the opening of the door.
Nikki's is not the highest quality establishment, run down, dive, hole in the wall. But it is comfortable ( and one should see what she can see - anime bright colors of dreams and webs of nightmares that criscross around the them, through them, with them.) and the bell thought broken dings and brings smile to young girls face as she catches that dramatic pause (He. has. arrived!) and slight chuckle as he rests his gaze on Imogen a touch longer then the glance she receives.
Not exactly 'with' her, sitting in a booth catycorner to Imogens, soft cloth holding a myriad of bracelets and barrettes and necklaces that are born from glass and thread under skillful hands sitting at the edge of the table, under her fingers another set, something she watches far more intensely then the baubles made before. Requested work. More intensive - and expensive. A slight nod toward james, as he begins to approach. "Seems to be for you."(imogen)
Imogen sits facing the door, at one of the corner tables. If he had not seen her, the pulse pull of her breeding might have caught his attention instead (and perhaps it was what caught it in any case.) Sheribelle sits at one table over, the two of them holding a half conversation across the space, the younger woman doing a bit more of the talking, than the doctor.Her dark eyes lift toward the Gnawer as he approaches, and she flips the book before her closed, shoving it one handed into the satchel, a rustle of cardboard against bookcover as she does so.
She does not greet him aloud as he approaches, sliding her half forgotten cigarette between her lips and lighting it with a bronze lighter, inhaling slowly of the poison before expelling it toward the ceiling, watching as smoke rings drift upward and disperse. Dark eyes do light on James, however (and that moment of direct stare, the look eye to eye that is so rare for his kind to receive), and that is perhaps what serves as her greeting. Her eyes straife sideways as she smirks faintly in Sheribelle's direction. "So it would seem."
(james)
it's a little dive
and doesn't he feel right at home
seeing the purse of lips around the filter
and the telltale zippo clack
there's a grin that quirks across his features
the tall raggedy man pulls to a stop before the table
head tilting to a glance between themhe doesn't know what they're talking about, if at all
but there was an exchange of words"Bum a smoke?"
more interesting than am I interrupting for sure
(sheri)
Gaze slides over him - one could say intimately, but that would be a far cry from the curiosity that it truely is - as he stops between their table, and hand reaches out to snag cloth before the edge of his patchwork coat can send it toppling. Somehow, she avoids hitting her coffee - long since cold, yet drunk just the same (waste not, want not) and maintaining hold on work between her fingers. A flash of smile (and tinkle of bells that dance along her side, somewhere hidden in depths of silks, his coat is patchwork, her's a conglomeration of silks in golds and silvers and blues and greens, setting off skin and hair of unseen, unreal hues - a study in ocean depths is she) and she relaxes again. Inturruption easily accepted, as most things with her are. Especially now. "evenin." The only word from the... talkative... teen.(imogen)
She doesn't quite have an answering grin, but a flicker of her lips as she shoves the cigarette package in his direction, a tilt of her chin offering him the seat across from her, "Fuckin' nasty habit you've picked up, there," she says hypocritically as she taps ashes into the ashtray, before slipping the cancer stick back into her mouth.The zippo is placed atop the cigarette package, because if he doesn't have any fags, he likely doesn't have a light, either. Her eyes slide toward the teenager as she speaks again.
(james)
there's a bit of a smirk in his smile"Keep running out of things to do with my hands."
a wink towards the teenager
then he slides into the seat across from Imogen
plucking a single stick free and lighting it
(there's a reason the lighter was bronze and not silver)
snapping the zippo closed and sliding the two back"Thanks."
(sheri)
"Should take up a craft." Chuckle as glass and thread is lifted in response to comment and wink. Not a day over 15, she seems, though she's been on the street a long time, that much is clear. It's more the set of her shoulders, the ease that speaks of a quickness, a readiness to move should it be warrented, the comfort she takes in cold coffee, the relaxation in a little dive like this that others would shun, but offers her marginal safety. And warmth. Never forget the warmth.
Her smile remains, but she doesn't intrude - though it's already been pointed out she will strike up a conversation with a stranger with ease, as if those never met are her closest friends. Fingers continue to work, beads picked from pockets sewn in cloth at seemingly random pace, no real pattern discernable to any but her. Though after a moment fingers pause and one hand lifts to scratch behind (pointed) ear, pushing soft brown (vibrant seaweed green, hanging low, low, down her back, ends hidden in fold of scarf by movements that set off the tinkling bell) hair behind her ear, and she finds soft voice again as she arches a brow at Imogen "boyfriend?" grinned, winningly.(imogen)
"Right. Just don't die of cancer, or nothing," smoke drifts from her mouth, a blue grey haze. A pale hand reaches out, grabbing the packet of cigarettes and zippo, sliding them closer to her, "and you're welcome."An eyebrow lifts as Sheribelle inquires her winning grinning question, and glances sideways at the teenager. "No." Nothing more than that.
(james)
there's a glance back at the Kinfolk
Imogen, my dear, was that a joke?
and he grins, even chuckling
the sound low and warm and inviting
though the single word from the teen nearly makes him cough that lungful of smoke right back on upthank. Gaia. Decker. wasn't. around.
hello flattened Jamesand dreads dance over his shoulders in the shake of head
"Friend, at most."
(sheri)
Unrepentant, her grin, even at their reactions, watching them, learning from them (and be sure they will be staring in some story somewhere along the line, at some point in time) as she nods. "My mistake. Friends then." Of course, should Decker come around now - after the events of the past week - she would be feelnig quite ill. Nice that James isn't so set in his ways. And he has a nice laugh, as well.
A roll of her shoulders into slight shurg, and she lays the piece being worked on the gloth beneath her hands, figners sliding over the glass, straightening, studying, searching for something that makes it click for her, that makes it truely waht was asked for. A nod - slight, and more to herself then anything else - and fingers work again, though to be honest, her gaze remains more on them.(imogen)
A sideglance as James nearly chokes. He begins to breath again, and she simply leans back. Sheribelle continues to watch them, so Imogen does not actually explain what she's doing as she pulls out the file folder and slides it across for the Gnawer. "Thought you might wan' t'see this."Photographes, mostly. Several different pictures of the same thing. Incised letters across old and sagging male chests. c o m e r a b i s h u. One of the last photographes in that series is has a seperation, c o m e / r a b i s h u with the second word underlined.
After that, a few more pictures, depicting the grisly deaths. Blunt force trauma in so many different ways. "Homeless." She says as he peruses. "I thought, considering your... leanings. You might want to know. Warn any of your friends out there."
(james)
he looks even contrite at the outburst
perhaps somewhat shy
breathing... breathing is good
he suffices in just pulling the folder across and flipping through
that's just..... peachy
looking a little more grim than when he first came in and noddingMmmm.
Hm.the folder is flipped closed and slid back
that's when he finally taps the log off of into the tray"Name's familiar. But thanks for the tip."
yeh, he knows exactly who he's going to warn first
(imogen)
"Damnit. I searched for two weeks for what the hell that meant, and the name looks familiar to you?" One joke, and that might actually be a second. Maybe Imogen's losing her touch. Or in a good mood...She could be drunk, too. Or high, depending.
"Next time, I ask you, first." Taking the folder back, and sliding it back into the satchel. "Four in the last month." Tacked on to the end.
(sheri)
She was told that Eshu have a knack for being in the right place at the right time. She was told that she had that knack as well, though she's never really thought about it. Reed slender fingers (bluish tinge, tipped in whiterose) itch to reach for the folder, to see what is within that folder. Her gaze speeks of it - and she, so recently homeless, still wishes to know.
A moment. Two. Then slight clearing of her throat.. "What about us homeless...?" Almost shyly asked, different then before. This she needs to know. there is no tease, there is no winning smile, there is only worry...(james)
"We need to watch our backs."that last with dark umber eyes flicked towards Sheri
but Imogen gets the greater part of his attention
grin raking over his featuers again
drunk, high, whatever
he sorta likes this sense of humor in her
he knows it exists
but dammit that's rare to see it
no matter the situation
(though he seems to get the most jokes around dead things.....)"Yeh... it's the name of a demon."
(imogen)
"Stay off th'streets, if ya can at night, too." On the heels of James's declaration to Sheribelle.She nods toward James, "Yeah, I had to lie to a University professor to find that out. I guess I know what my next research project is."
(sheri)
her look is particularly dry. If she were not the girl she is, that could have been almost condenscending. The homeless need always to watch their backs. But she nods, and attention pulls from the couple, and slides to the work in hand again. Let them speak - and watch yourself, Sheribelle. No matter what you've seen, what you've done, what you will do iin the furture, watching ones back is second nature. When you start at 11, and last till 15, it is a lesson hard learned. well learned. But she lapses to silence, and beads find way to thread and around again.
Does she hear the talk of the demon? perhaps. Does she listen closer? Perhaps. Is it noticible? defiantely not. Dreams of one that speak of apocolyptic ends, mentions of names of demons, nightmares that clutch and grab and suckle at fears and build them till they sufficate the sleep from your frame - all this.
And stay off the streets at night. Slight the nod, again, wry the smile, though it slides genuine instantly, and attention? firmly on the work blossoming under her hands.(james)
it wasn't meant to be condescending
to tell the homeless to watch their back?
from another that obviously looks like he belongs on the street?
should speak of how dire those pictures were
he knows it better than most
he's been on the street for 21 years, minus the last six months
but whatever she gets of it, it matters little more to him now"I know of a couple books at the library that might help, if you want me to grab 'em for you."
(imogen)
Neither had meant to be condescending. However, if Imogen noticed the particularly dry look that Sheribelle had given, she must be ignoring it."Sure. I've got a start on a few that might help. I suppose I'll go from there, see what comes up." A light shrug of her shoulders, "If anything."
(sheri)
Well, she is the girl she is - she simply shrugs it off, and does her best not to really, obviously pay attention. She has friends here too. She has things she should know - but she did not look at the pictures. She knows only what she did before - and there's a demon name to consider. What it is - she is unsure. But she will find out. He has his source, his friend - and she hers. Been a while since she checked in with them, most thought she died in NYC, or was finally picked up. Little could they have known what's really happened. (How would she tell them? [she wouldnt] Hi, sorry so long, I has met the chesire cat, after all, and become Alice in some adventures through the Looking Glass in Luc's bathroom, all tahts left is finding that dratted white rabbit and meating the queen...) But smile rests easy on her lips, and fingers work, pausing only to sip long cold coffee, setting cup down in the exact ring that cooled cup has birthed, and then again, beads added- one taken away, another slid in its place, as she works to achieve the look she wishes.(james)
"You at work?"well, he knows she's probably working
it's more if she's needed nearby in the immediate future"I can grab 'em before the library closes if you can give me a ride, else I'll take the bus and have 'em to you tomorrow."
he knows her sleeping schedule well enough
he's spent enough nights on her couch to know she's often doing something as he's passing out
and still doing it by the time he wakes several hours later
so he's not worried about when she'll be reading them
it's more when she wants to(imogen)
A quick sideways glance at her watch, "Provided I don't have any pages in the near future, I should be alright." He's noticed the pattern of lack of sleep, more than a pattern of sleep. She appears to be on call twenty four hours a day, and more often than not, she's going out the door as he wakes up, perhaps disturbed by the shrill sound of the pager."I'll drive you, no need to suffer the buses." The zippo and cigarette packet is stuffed into her jacket pocket. Picking up the heavy weight of her satchel and starting to stand.
(sheri)
She again reaches for the wares on the edge of the table - automatic as someone stands, flipping the cloth over the various baubles within and moving them to a safer place on the table before her. A smile offered as Imogen stands, but she remains quiet, gaze returning to her beading, nimble fingers placing bead after bead.(james)
ooooh, an escort, even
he's in luck tonight
two jokes and a ride
lady luck seems to be smiling down on him
heeee.there's a nod towards Sheri
"Nice.... sooorta meetin' ya."
and even a bit of that easy grin
but duties call
and he's up and ready to follow Imogen(danny)
Months. How many months had it been? days turn to weeks that turn to months The twisting turning voices in his head have subsided...had he won? Maybe this night...so far...He cant be over 15 years old. His hair falls just past his shoulders. It hadnt been cut in a while, obviously so, it wasnt all the same length, this kid seemed like he was lacking the hygine one would get at home. home was a long way aways He was fighting a fight he could win, one gainst himself...or what he understood...What the hell was going on, hands clench into a fist unconsciously as he thinks about the last week...sometimes is was worse then other times...sometimes he didnt even remember what he did. Moving out from the alley...he walks...Whats the chance of anyone knowing who he was...(imogen)
She throws the strap of the satchel over her shoulder, the fingers of her hand flicking out in a half wave toward Sheribelle, as she begins to walk out of the diner. "I'm parked some ways up." Habit it seemed. It doesn't matter where she's going, she parks a block or sometimes six away. Walking, maybe.As they exit the diner and reach a more private area (aka an empty street) she inquires quietly, her voice low against the ambient city sounds, "Is Rabishu something o'the Garou, or do you just have a habit of knowing ancient babylonian demons?"
(sheri)
"Sheribelle." Name offered as she chuckles softly, fingers lifting in a wave. "Later." encompasses them both, as she shifts position (tinkle of bells unseen, slide of shifting silk over slender form) slightly, foot sliding from under knee, resting on the floor again, ankles crossed and slid under her seat as she contemplates scrounging enough change for a warm cup of coffee before she returns home. A stop on the way to see what has happened to the homeless, what this demon name is - and then home to the flat to see what Luc has heard.(james)
"James."tossed back over his shoulder
then he's out and into the cold night's air
not seeming to mind or be surprised by the walk
walking's good for them
muscular shoulders rolling in a slow shrug
there's a bit of a shy grin
and his voice is but a murmur"Was raised by Frankenweilers, partially, so I spent as much time on the street as in the Library."
(danny)
A hand moves to his shoulder where he can barely feel the sting anymore...he was grateful for the fake id that allowed him to get the tattoo...and really it didnt hurt all that much. Covered by his jacket, he just feels the slight sting and smiles..he knew what was under there...How lucky he had been so far...he managed to make it months without being found. She had to have given up by now...that was the only string tying him to this life...her and he wasnt going to fall for any of her shit...all her fucking answers...all her fucking ideals...this was what she wanted...not him, not at all. no fucking way...a fucking curse was what it was...they were teaching him that...just the thought of it made his heart start to thump in his chest...the memories of that night he killed someone, fucking killed someone in cold blood...feeling his blood start to rush...calm calm the fuck down...he walks up the street...towards the diner...seemingly a little spaced out and perhaps a bit out of it while he thinks(imogen)
"You've got weird taste in literature, James." Dryly declared as she walks down the street, sliding leather gloves over her hands for partial warmth. "Weird, weird taste. Read the Satanic bible while you were at it, did you?"He can feel the curl of silver still, something that must almost be expected now. She has likely decided that she simply doesn't want to go without it. Anything can happen. And with her anything does.
Danny is walking in their direction, and for a moment or two, Imogen appears uninterested. Though, as he draws closer, it appears that the petite redheads attention is diverted that way, half concious, pensive as she watches the unshorn unkempt boy approach.
(danny)
hands in his pockets...looking for a smoke...as he wanders up the street- --what the.... His eyes lock on the girl...paces slowing as he seems to have been-- noticed? Heart starts to thump...harder and harder in his chest...almost tunnel vision on the redhead...why are you looking at me like that Was he paranoid, or was she...looking at him...Paces slowing as his heart beats faster...(randal)
The young man exits the O'tollys and snorts. Pulling off the paper hat he tosses it in the nearby trashcan and turns to walk down the street. Smelling faintly of Cheeseburgers and frys. He's got a coat with him but doesn't put it on in fear of infecting it with the smell*(sheri)
James. Name filed away to be remembered as she watches them leave the diner. A shake of her head. She did have her reasns for asking, but they must have had their reasons for not telling. A soft sigh, and fingers dig in pockets (pouches layered among the silken scarves that swirle and bells protest her movements) for some extra change, finally coming up with enough to get a new hot cup of coffee. She stands (clothin setles in soft swish of multicolored delight, swirling about her slender form) and moves to the counter, and refills her cup, smilnig at the waitress who is nice and still doesn't kick her out. Back to her booth, slide into seat, beadwork taken up again between sips of caffinated goodness.(james)
"Parts" grinned "Education was important."to the Frankenweilers
to the Hoods, too, but he won't say that
she's got a brisk walk
he's got an easy swagger
just strolling down the street
even with that niggling JAB of silver that eats at him with each step
but living in her apartment half the time over the last week or three
and let's not forget the time in the motel
well.... he's gotten used to it
..... kind've.she doesn't have to say she's watching the boy for his attention to drift over
he's supposed to be keeping an eye on her, right?
and that change in the set of her shoulders and stride tells him more than he needs to know
but her gaze is pensive - his is casual(imogen)
James can feel the silver, a constant tug, as sure as she can feel the pressure of the knives at her back, as solid as if he were carrying them himself (though if he were carrying them, it would be even worse than now). It's like her constant knowledge of his rage. His rage. Rune's rage. Decker's rage. That feeling of barely held tempers. It costs them all a little to control it, every day. It costs her a little to face it, every day. She's gotten used to it.Kind've.
The boy slows, and Imogen continues watching, her lips moving, but the boy unable to catch the sounds. She speaks, instead to James, "I think..." the thought is trailed off, abandoned.
Somewhere in the library of her mind, the solution to Danny is there, perhaps between the effects of hypertension on a liver and the smell of cyanide. She has to find it. The dark eyes have moved away, however, and stone has slipped across her features once more, an easy familiar facade. Her lips move once more, and James hears her voice.
"Remember Lexi? Hung out with Decker from time to time. Blonde girl. She was 'ere looking for someone or another. Cousin, brother, nephew, I can't recall. She showed me his picture."
Dark eyes slide in the direction of Danny once more.
(randal)
He strolls on down the street. Letting tension melt off him. Reaching into the jacket pocket he pulls out a NY Yankees cap and tucks his longish blond hair intoit.Longish blond hair, but clipped short in the back. Blue eyes. White but a bit tanned. WHite shirt with the O'Tollys nametag on it that reads "RANDAL". Black pants. He makes his way on down the street*
(james)
yeh.... kind've
it's more that he's just accepted that being around Imogen
equates, on some level, to being around silver
and while he's instinctively unnerved by it
he deals with it as she deals with his Rage
fair enough trade for her company
she's by far the most scholarly of his packnodding quietly to the soft words
and a brow lifts, glancing over"Barely. Something we should do about it?"
mmhm, that's right
a Garou full moon asking a Kinfolk her opinion(danny)
Ok...this wasnt good...nope. He had gone this long...fuck if he was gonna let someone stop him now...No time to wait and see he turns and starts into a sprint...man one fast 15year old...Hisheart beating faster now..adreniline mixed with anxiety filling his body...fuck fuck fuck He feels his feet moving as fast as they could take him....run...run!(imogen)
"She said..." and that's when Danny takes off, "Fucking Christ," blurted out as he takes off, "I don't think anybody's exactly explained shite to him. He did that before they had a chance." A frustrated gesture toward the disappearing back of the teenager."I think he has issues. So... yes. Maybe we should. Goddamnit." Reluctance, perhaps. Annoyance. A glance at the Ahroun, before half beginning to jog after the sprinting form of the boy, only lengthening her strides to an all out run, if the Bone Gnawer joins her.
(james)
well.... shit.
there goes the library trip
there's a bit of a look towards Imogen"Get the car."
and he bolts after the kid
now, fifteen year old kids are fast
but applied Garou are a bit faster
(so it's cheating a little)
and it's not long before he catches up"Hey kid..... hang up a minute!"
(randal)
The young man looks up as he rounds a corner and blinks as he sees Danny running ass for leather straight twords him. He blinks. Reacts!!!!Ducks and covers.
(danny)
And all they can see are elbows and asshole...he hasnt even looked over his shoulder once to see if they were following him...fuck that...Panic setting in, fuck this..catch me if you can He hears a voice call him.. and its close..he too could run fast, same gift and having the whole young thing going for him as well...He turns his head...how the hell...Quickly slowing up to avoud the guy and move over to a corner, ducking around it. Fuck if he was going to go down, no fucking way...heart pounding in his chest now..no no no What did this guy want...what did they want...why were they chasing him...fuck, what the fuck...(randal)
Danny runs past him and he straightens up just intime to see James running twords him and blinks dropping into acrouch again. Covering his head*(imogen)
"His name's Danny." Tossed in his direction as her attention is deflected to the SUV, crossing the street (thankfully no cars to turn her into a kin pancake), pulling keys from her pocket and unlocking the doors. The engine fires to life, and she pulls away from the curb, beginning down the road where the putative fenrir cub is dashing.(tristan)
Easy sidewalk eating strides carry hm down the walk, oddly enough toward some sort of commotion up the street ahead. fingers wrapped around the handle of his violin case. Another streetcorner, another dollar, time for diner. Same night, another street, life goes on, and as always, there will be time to play on.
Dark gaze watches the fleeing boy heading his way, with someone familiar dashing along behind him, duck and cover boy, and its all clicked into place one piece at a time. Half a block and closing... decision time.(james)
fucking hell.
he remembers when he was that age
running from rival packs, cops, thugs, you name it
thought he was pretty hot
now he knows what it felt like to chase him
sunnuvabitch
karma, he supposes"Danny! Wait up kid!"
the crouching guy ignored
tank boots skidding on gravel around the corner
the next minute he's pouring himself into a sprint
barreling down the sidewalk like some charging bull
fist wrapping in the flaps of Danny's shirt
and that's when he puts on the brakes"STOP!"
(danny)
Like he has a choice....feeling the tug of his shirt as he continues to sprint..."Get your fucking hands off meee" He barks out...now his heart pounding so fast hes sure its going to rip through his chest and keep moving...Gravity wins, along with the fist of the bigger stronger Garou..."Motherfucking sunnofabitch" He begins to struggle, squirming and moving as a teenager trying to get out of the grip of a parent would do..."Dude im gonna fucking scream and yell get your hands off me what the fuck" Anger rage mixed with pure terror and panic..who are you what do you want.. why are you grabbign me how do you kow my FUCKING NAME...
IT took him that long to realize the guy knew his FUCKING NAME..."Dude lemmie go"(imogen)
She pulls to a stop a foot or two from the Danny and James altercation, reaching into her glove compartment and grabbing her medical examiner's shield as a second thought, quickly unwrapping it and tossing it over her neck to hang loosely as she gets out of the SUV.Kid's got a worse mouth than Rune. Tristan is standing a few feet away and the firey haired female gives him a glance, which is unhelpful in it's own way.
She keeps her distance, however. Garou business. She's just the driver.
(tristan)
Steps continue, that easy ground eating stride, and then the voice gets his attention and he recognizes James then, and step quickens. Decision made. He continues to hold the violin case, but he nears quickly enough to flank the kid. He doesn't intrude, but should the kid bolt again - he's ready. He doesn't have to know why. this is family business. that's all he needs to know.
Imogen drives up, and gets a quick glance, easy smile, but gaze returns instantly to Danny and James.(james)
the grip twisted in the shirt is like steel
Danny's not going anywhere as long as James has a hold of him"Danny."
there's a crack in his voice that gets full and complete attention
it filters past the panic
it filters past the fear
throws one into full shock
it's a little bit of that full moon magic"Look, you sit here, listen to what we have to say, and I'll let go of you. I'll even buy you a burger or somethin... just. stop. running and yelling, allright? Calm down or you'll hurt yourself...."
(randal)
He heads on down the way. Stopping a bit back from the scrap, I mean lets be honest. This isn't an altercation. Something was goin' down. He tilts his head and watches, brows raise and he blinks some more. Looking around hoping this sort of thing doesen't draw... oh look The woman is a cop.(danny)
What the fuck..was that supposed to be some sort of fucking calming comment? Buy him a burger...ovbviously this guy was more crazy then he was...This wasnt good, what if he changed into that beast..he didnt know how to control it..not really...and what if this guy was...the others..he had heard stories...why did he know him..what did he want with him..and how the hell did he have the monster grip on him like that...what the fuck Eyes peel to the car pulling up...and people were starting to crowd around...you could shut up..or you could scream louder and get out of this But what if this guy was one of them Fuck..he didnt know what to do, fight or flight...fight or flight "Let go of me" he barks..."dude this is some sort of battery....where are the cops when you need them" his voice has lowered...he isnt making nearly as much of a scene as he would like...maybe hes just a little confused (imogen)
Move along now, nothing to see here. She has not joined Tristan in the 'wait to see if the kid gets away and jump him' mode. Then again, at five feet two inches, and maybe a hundred pounds, the only way Imogen is going to stop any barrelling fifteen year old kid is if she stabs him with something really sharp and pointy, and that might not be a good thing to do with an acquaitence's family member.Instead, quiet words and subtle flickers of her badge is dispersing the audience. Routine operation, she says. Please leave, unless you'd like to be taken down to the station for questioning.
She knows how to get things moving. They're not in a good part of town. Most would rather walk away from an interesting crime scene then risk being taken back to the station.
(randal)
His brows raise at the woman and he looks at the badge. He was unaware that medical examiners questioned people. He backs aginst the wall to stay out of the way and puts on a "Who Me?" smile.(james)
"Sit. Down."there's a twist of his wrist and a push/pull down that doesn't leave much choice
the boy's ass uncerimoniously hits the ground
and the Gnawer is crouched with one knee on the ground infront of him
fist rewrapping itself into the kid's collar
there's a hand in his pocket and a badge flipped out"Now, I can have my partner there" thumbing over his shoulder, badge book flipped closed "Throw your milk carton ass into her car and take you back to the station, or you can quit makin' a scene and we can talk this out."
the tone of his voice is beginning to hint there aren't many options in that offer
(tristan)
How far he could go with a case in one hand is perhaps questionable, but readiness to aid in family business is part of his duty. He has no need of knowing what it is. James gave chase, james caught, he'll help make sure the kid stays caught if and when it's needed. till then. Relaxed, easy, controlled. Watchful and alert, but relaxed as well.(danny)
What-the-fuck...He sits not cause he wanted to and squirmed a bit..."what the fuck is there to talk about" he mutters.."i aint done nothing wrong" he shakes his head...heart pounding..feelings of rage building...holy shit..he was going to freak out right here..."dude im telling you" he warns...clenching teeth together as he figths the urdes he doesnt know how to control..."you gotta let me go"now his voice is pleading..."not--here---" teeth clenching tighter...as if he is trying to fight off the inner rage, the feeling pulling at him...no please..please... "trust me" almost coming out as a whisper...If he is kept here, he is going to break a law he doesnt even know exists..and it wont be intentional...thats for sure..."arrgggghhh" he fights the inner battle...all his thoughts fighting the rage...no no no(randal)
Brows shoot up at the kids bubbeling anger and such and he looks up and down the street. Damn near deserted once Imo flashed that badge. He looks back to the people and watches. Pulling one of those "I'm just a flowerpot. Don't look at me" things that the indiginous downtrodden do so well.(imogen)
"Yes, you. Wouldje be so kind as to get moving?" Randal's attention did not escape the attractive red head as she narrows her eyes.She can catch the sounds of Danny speaking, and does not grasp so much the words as the feeling behind the words. Or perhaps there's a secondary sense that has been inbred in her (it costs her a little bit, every day).
"Hey. If you've got him, we should get him down, anyway. Instead o' doing this on the streets."
(randal)
He raises his brows. Blinks and looks to James. He'd seen something that made him not just want to mosy. And I mean.. come on. Noone was dead here. What the hell is an ME trying to act all top cop for.
He srugs and slips into his jacket. A small pin on the lapel catches light.(danny)
Holy shit it was the fucking cops? What the hell? they knew...they knew (how the hell did they know) Killer..he was a killer..cold blooded killer...oh my god they knew how the fuck did they know..it wasnt in this city..it wasnt in this state..fuck it wasnt even in this time zone...Eyes moving back from the chick to the guy who now had him sitting down there...gotta let me go...gotta let-me-goo(james)
"Danny, listen to me."whatever commanding edge was in his voice
it's gone now
it's a lot softer, barely a murmur, for the boy alone
the twist in shirt shifts to a hand settled on the youth's shoulder"You've done nothing wrong, yet, but you're about to.... I can feel it building, and you don't want to do that here. We both know it. You can fight it down, just relax. Else you're going to attract a lot more attention to yourself than you want. People with badges that aren't as understanding."
(imogen)
She makes a short sharp sound of annoyance as she catches sight of the badge and simply turns on her heel walking back toward Tristan, James et al.(danny)
He hears the words...and they were just that..words...taking a quick breath, another spuratic gasp of air...sonnofabitch why wasnt he letting him go...he couldnt just calm down, there was no on/off switch on this kid....teepth still tightly clenched along with 2 fists.."then i suggest we get up and start walking...i gotta get out of here" He wasnt pleading to get away from the guy asmuch as he wsa pleading to just leave where they were...so out in the open. right there(tristan)
Rage. boils. and pools from the kid (awshit) and he glances around, though watches James for his decision in the matter, even though near instantly escape routes are marked - if the kid frenzys.... he ain't no fool. Seen that once before, and the results sure as fuck weren't pretty. Momma Grace would tan his hide to know he put himself too close to that anyway, but then again, it's only because he's her favorite son. Only son - but who's counting.
James' tone softens, and Tristan waits, paitiently, hopfully, though randalls movement catches his eyes - or more so, Imogen's snort of irritation. Can't see the pin from here, but he can gather waht that look means, having been on the receiving end of it recently. Attention mostly on James and Danny still.. watching. waiting.(james)
fair enough
there's a nod
and as easily as he put the kid ont he ground
he's hauling him up"C'mon. Walk."
(danny)
phew And the tension begins to leave his body...he aint running away...yet But he HAD-TO get out of there...so many people...what if he coulnt control it..."tell me you have a smoke...please" thats all he can mange out(james)
the hand that was on his shoulder turns into a pat"You'll learn to control it, kid, takes practice."
he may not say that once he finds out Danny's tribe, though
considering the Fenrir he knows best, now
he digs into yet another pocket and hands over a pack of Camels and cheap bic
(with something of an apologetic glance to Imogen, it was an ice breaker, earlier)a bit of a blink
oh... Tristan
grin flashing in what's probably a very late hello
he'd be so focused on the kid he ignored the crowd
half a glance back at Randal, too
but he's back to focusing on the cub"Wanna meet us down the block?"
that last part to Imogen
he's not about to toss the kid into a car right now
nor is he going to trust him more than an arm's length away(imogen)
The apologetic glance is met with a look that passes for her as amusement, an eyebrow lifting slightly, and shrugging her shoulders lightly.She is pulling out her cigarettes for her own good, however, fire kissed hair falling forward over her shoulders and half obscuring her face as she bends to light the Camels from the bronze zippo between her gloved fingers. "Yeh," words that are softly accented, drift out on smoke, "I'll give y'a bit."
(danny)
Ok this was eerie..learn to control it how the hell--what were these people fucking psychics? He readilly takes one of the smokes and continues to walk with the guy..eyes peeled for any escape route...always good to leave options open...But he continues to walk with the guy...his voice barely a whisper..."how do you know what i am?"(tristan)
returned grin, as he nods, leaning back against a light pole as they pass, situation in hand. "evenin James." And only then does he smile over his shoulder at Imogen "to you too."
He doesn't follow James and the kid - he's got the situation well in hand. Ankles cross, case hangs loose at his side, comfortable and relaxed.(randal)
His eyes flicker over to Tristan then. Then down to the case. a blink. Ok no.. that would be way too sterotypical if there was a gun in there. Still. He seemed the calmest of the little gathering. Giving one look to Imo to make sure he wasn't going to get arrested for daring to be on the street he heads over twords Tristan. A nod. Nor really meaning anything by it save "hey"*(imogen)
"How do you do." a quiet comment toward Tristan as he greets her, leaning against the edge of her SUV, eyes flickering toward the walking pair from time to time.(tristan)
He smiles at Imogen (no boyfriend around and all) "Doin allright, ma'am. Good to see you again." A wink, then he arches a brow at Randal, chin lifts in somehting of a returned nod, the pin now seen for what it is. Soft chuckle born. "evenin." friendly enough.(james)
with the pack handed back
he lights one up for himself
and shoulders roll in a shrug beneath the patchwork trench
there's an easy grin within the frame of heavy dreadlocks
and his voice is still only for Danny to hear"It's called Rage, you learn to feel it in others like us. Though honestly? When you started running I had no idea, just knew that someone who knew someone we knew was looking for you, for some reason, and now I've a good idea why. Lemme see if I have this right."
glanced over, just to make sure the boy is paying attention
back to mellow James"You went apeshit and furry six ways from Sunday, some day, did something you regret but had no control over, are running from it and the cops because you either don't understand or don't believe what's going on. How far off am I?"
(randal)
He nods and offers a quiet "Sup?"
He stands there and slips his hands into his coat pockets. Somewhat watching the pair moving down the street as well. The shining image of your adverage everyday guy. Still in the uniform from his first job. Hasn't gone to his second, graveyard shift, job.
Yankees cap and jacket.
He looks over to Imo and thinks he remembers her from the diner. Nods to her* hello.(danny)
He stops in his tracks. Eyes locking on the guy...pretty good Taking al ong drag from the smoke...holding it in his lungs...then letting the smoke exit in long clouds from his lips...choosing his words carefully...eyes moving from the guy, to the street...he was exactly right on..that was exactly it...holy shit he couldnt have hit the nail on the head any better...silence..no words yet..nothing but an amazed look on his face as he listens to James...and merely nods...no words..just a nod(imogen)
A faint sound in the back of her throat that might be either answering Tristan (Yeah, yeah, nice to see you too) or answering Randal in a rather non-verbal form of a semi-civil greeting.Smoke blows toward the sky as she exhales, eyes flickering up the street once more.
(james)
that easy smile is still there
and maybe a look of understanding"Would you be just as surprised to hear you're the second kid I've run into in this town that's had that story? Happens to the best of us. Like I told you... you have to learn how to control it and use it."
nope, not a single question about what he did
or.... who he did
or anything or the sort
just an acceptance that it happened
and now they gotta work through it
moving on, and all that"Question is what to do from here on out. You gonna let us help, or keep running?"
he doesn't particularly want to chase the kid down again
(randal)
He nods knowing that feeling. He absently pulls a pack of big red from a pocket and offers Tristan a stick before skinning one himself. Gently he pops it in his mouth and gives a look around again. Looks down to the case. "Violinist?"(danny)
Now was the time for logic...he certainly wasnt going to fight the guy, although trust wasnt on the top of his list right now..plus..this guy could be playing for the other side....how would he know...he was a perfect target for them..."you know her?" is all he says...that should pretty much explain it, at least which side they were playin for...what did they know of Lexi...and how the hell--in this big ass city--was he spotted by a couple of folk that happened to be on the same street...survivor, he had made it this long at least using his brain somewhat....another long drag...he doesnt really know what to say, he didnt ask for help...and who knew what this dude wanted from him.."im fine" he manages to come up with.
Im fine? what a stupid thing to say(imogen)
The two Gnawers, or whatever Randal is, converse a few feet away and she leans against the SUV, the conversation washing around her as she smokes, dark eyes sometimes flicking from time to time in the direction of James and his little protegé.(tristan)
He can't resist the chuckled grin "no, tiny cello." Then he just nods. "Yeah. play the street corners when I get hungry."(randal)
He smirks a bit and chuckels. Chews. Ponders and nods again "I work two shit jobs and you probly get better pay." A grin.(tristan)
He just grins and nods. "bet I do. Never stoop to doing a shit job - gotta do whatcha love. If you do it well enough - there's always enough to eat. If not, love something else."(james)
"Blond girl? Lexi? Don't know her personally but she's a friend of my packmate's."winging. it. completely.
and he stands there with the tense kid
both sucking down a Camel like there's no tomorrow
good to know it won't affect either of their lungs"Fine, right. If you were fine you wouldn't be running. You wouldn't be scared of what you are and what you don't have control of. I don't think you want to hear the whole responsibility to the Nation to save your ass before the Nasties get to you lecture. So I'll leave it at the longer you wander, the better a chance they have of getting you. Then you'll really wish you were running. This'll look like child's play."
(randal)
He laughs a bit and srugs. "I do one shit job so I can afford to do a different job that aint so bad to have money to live. All in the concessions and how ya look at it." A soft mellow smile.(tristan)
Smile slides to smirk, then back again. "To each their own." He makes good enough money to get him where he's going - and he can always makemore. Tax free even. Livin the high life and he doesn't have to work unless he wants too.(danny)
He cringes as he heard his sisters name come from James...ok at least he wasnt one of the nasties...nodding his head he remains quiet..he wasnt one to ask for help, but shit the crap that had happened to him wasnt quite the normal ~going through puberty~ motions...you might be moody and cranky and a little on edge, but you hardly change into a legendary creature and kill human beings...that wasnt normal...he still couldnt believe it "I dont wanna see her...shes gonna try to take me back there" referring to their home...his own southern drawl beginning to peek out...as if he had been trying to hide it...but now it was peeking through..."i aint goin back there...no way fuck that"(randal)
"So your good then?" He nods to the case. Chews his gum thoughtfully. "I played Bass in Highschool."(imogen)
Perhaps she's half listening to the two discuss music, or her mind might be somewhere else, as her black gloved hand drags through her hair, black leather sharply contrasting with many shaded red hair. She appears to have absolutely no desire to add anything.(tristan)
Street version of YoYoMah - but he just shrugs. "good enough." with a grin. Yeah. he's good. Damn good. But comfortable enough in that he knows it himself, he doesn't go round braggin about it.(randal)
"So what do you like to play most?" Just making casual conversation as James plays guru. ANd the redhead stands there smoking. She's kinda cute but he remembers the BF and ain't touching her with a cattle prod on the end of a pole(james)
there's a thoughtful nod to that
he's watching the kid, closely"Well, none of us especially want to go home." a kind grin, a bit of a shrug "Allright, we'll work it out. C'mon.... at least gettin' you cleaned up and fed. My betters'll have a grasp on what to do and where to go so it works out best for everybody."
that's when he waves down the block at Imogen
(tristan)
A shrug, and nod as James waves in Imogen's direction - situation well in hand it seems. "Classical mostly, but some folk songs, a bit of the blues, some country, even some faster paced stuff. Depends on the crowd and the requests."(danny)
He grumbles as he pullsthe remaining smoke fromt he cigarette..he was now smoking the filter...gross..he tosses the lit butt into the street..."look i dont wanna meet no one you refer to as 'betters'"he shakes his head.."really, i mean" he didnt know what the hell he meant...shit..he didnt wanna be a target for the nasties..he didnt really know what the fuck to expect..he could use guidance...but fuck if he wanted to ask for any help...."hate bein a burden" independent kid..that was for sure...survivor...but he still walks with james..obviously feeling a little safer among the company of other freaks like himself(imogen)
Oh look. A wave. Hello, James. A bemused look curls her lips as she catches the movement up ahead, and tosses her cigarette to the ground grinding it beneath her bootheel. The keys are found, and she rounds the SUV to the driver's side and gets in, starting the engine.Situation well in hand, it seems. The lights of the vehicle turn on, and after a moment she pulls away from the curb, driving the block or more that the two Garou have walked.
(james)
there's a warm laugh"I'm pack Omega, everyone's my better.... they just outrank me. "
he doesn't seem to mind it much, either
very comfortable in his place"No burden, Danny. None at all."
and when the SUV pulls up to the curb
Posted by james at January 13, 2003 12:00 AM
there's a grateful smile at the driver
ushering the kid on into the back
then hopping in shotgun himself
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