January 15, 2003.01.15.03. - red glove whitelight! [tristan-decker] *fog[north jersey]
(james)
he's been sitting here for about an hour now
the tall, dreadlocked raggedy man
half the plume of fog before him is breath
the other Camel smokenasty habit you've picked up there, Jamey boy
but he's just watching the traffic roll on by
all the little people going home from all their little jobs
he played for awhile earlier, upped the saved cash for the trip
though after awhile he stopped
too much shit on his mind
so now?
he's just watching traffic
smoking
thinking(tristan)
Speaking of nasty habits - seems our prettyboy musician has picked one up too. Or at very least, is being dropped off by one.Old beat up pickup truck pulls to the curb, not too far away from James. Hard to tell who is driving - anything about them at all, hidden in the darkness between lights, hidden by the brim of a pulled low cowboy hat. Yes indeed - hard to tell at all.
Hard to miss the goodbye though - even if one isn't sure who it is. It's almost more of a "hello - we ain't goin no where unless its back to that hotel" moment then the goodbye it truly is - but none the less, the prettyboy musician steps from the passenger side door, and smacks it shut behind him with an oh so wickedly satiated grin. A slap of hand on hood, a little wave, a heft of the violin case in hand, and he steps up to the sidewalk, adjusting his coat with a roll of his shoulders, and starting... that way.(james)
the slam of the cardoor gets his attention more than anything else
and there's a slow glance of deep umber eyes down the way
and maybe a little bit of an amused grin
hard to miss that goodbye indeed
he's quiet for a spell, waiting for the boy to get closer to where he's crouched up against the wall"Your momma know you're kissin' on folks that way?"
(tristan)
Easy ground eating strides of a kid used to making way across concrete jungle in relaxed (styyyyle) hurry, he doesn't see the crouched form until he speaks, then dark gaze snaps to raggedy man and grin turns sly, then slightly sheepish as fingers pull from pocket to rub under lower lip gently (swollen slightly - been quite a few kisses like that the past few hours) then slides under chin and around back of his neck.. "what she don't know won't hurt her, right?"
Easy going grin as hand tucks back into his pocket and he stops in front of James.. nodding to the Camel. "Hell - kissin like that almost makes me wanna bum a smoke." Wink, turn and back placed against the wall, ankles crossing as he just... grins.(james)
that?
gets a laugh
a full on, hearty laugh
dreads skip across his shoulders as head shakes"A kiss like that would make anyone want a smoke."
the pack is dug from a pocket and held up in offer
"I'd ask how you were, but I think it's redundant."
(tristan)
That boyish grin just rakes across his features, shines in his eyes as gaze flickers to where that beat up truck disappeared. Shake of his head sends unruly mass of curls in shivering disarray only to be pushed back again before he grabs the pack (what the hell) and taps out a camel, props it between his lips and hands the pack back while he searches his pockets for a light. A moment, two, and the pink (pink!) bic is found, flicked, and flame set to smoke before bic is tucked away. Inhale. exhale, chuckling grin. "thanks man. And yes. Quite redundant."
Languid stretch of aching muscle, belly crunched to set violin case between his foot and James' crouched form (now there's trust for you. but he's family). "So I guess we'll have to talk about how you are..." A wink, and he straightens back up once more.(james)
"Tired." chuckled, softly "And sadly not for the same reason you should be. Spent all night up with that kid then with Imogen at the library."a brow lifts
and he looks up past the curtain of dreads to the Kin
flicking what's left of his burnt out Camel towards the gutter"Which, oddly, brings me back to why I was looking for you."
(tristan)
Ah, he just grins. That whole perma-grin thing going on and all, and nods. "Oddly, I'm not tired. Easily could go for another round or four." oh yes, the libido of the young man in perpetual rutt. Gaze slides down over James, but he cuts short the rest of the tease that normally would follow - not too sure James is up for that kinda teasin just yet, and well. They hardly know each other... (did he even get his companions name? number? did they talk? noooooo tellin.)
A pause at the last, and brow lifts as he meets that curtained gaze.. "Lookin for me, hm? Do tell..."(james)
"Then it looks like you let'm get away a little too early."smirked, he can tease with the best of them
he did grow up on the streets, after all
that permagrin is infectious
it gets his tension to slide away
easy smile on his face
if for nothing more than having family around
just watching the traffic roll on by"Ever heard of something called Rabishu?"
(tristan)
full lips slide into playful pout. "They had to work." And yes. he says it that way on purpose. The slide away of tension is noticed (and our pretty boy is soooo relaxed) and he slides down to crouch next to James (family) and join in the traffic watching detail.
Another inhale brings smoke to ashes, and its stamped under toe of boot, butt picked up and tucked into his pocket before arms drape over knees, hands clasped lightly. "Sounds like something outa some horror film, actually - freakish demon or Angel or the like.. but other then that, nope."(james)
he kept it vague for a reason, too
he's not about to make assumptions
or condemn for anything, either
and there's a slow, thoughtful, nod"About it, really. Babylonian. Some nutcase round these parts is killing homeless in order to try to raise said Angel/Demon. Imogen thought it important enough to bring up to me, then spread the word to any I knew that were on the street."
(tristan)
Course, he coulda meant they simply plural, but then he should be more tired. maybe. maybe not. There's no condemnation here - to him or from him. He's been out there a while and knows when you find arms that appeal to you - no matter who they are attached too - you take the comfort when its offered, while you have the chance.
But the nod is mirrored, and brow creeps upwards. "Lovely. I'll be sure to pass it along to those that should know as well. Don't know many around these parts yet, but will spread the word. "(james)
"Ain't it?"smirked
he's not happy about what he found out in the library
it's what's kept him awake since
tense and on the street
he tried to work it off
even with the easy smile
it didn't really work
there's a steady seeth working just under his skin"If you can, stay off the street after dark, that seems to be when it's happening. They're beaten and words carved onto their chest. I'm sure there's something more that makes it into a ritual. They've all been male, too."
and considering what Tristan just got dropped off from... well...
(tristan)
That. gets a pause. And then a low whistle "well fuuuuuuck me."
Not exactly an invitation there, either.. hand trags through curls only to have them fall in disarray again, his head shaking slightly. And yes - glance in the direction he came from before it slides to the front again. Tension creeps up along his spine - but slowly, and not quite noticable, not yet anyway.
"moneymakin's best around dinner time - will make sure to be on a lighted corner until it stops, though." All he can promise really, as he's gotta make the dough - specially if he wants a cheap hotel room instead of not so comfortable box in an alley. Not that he hasn't before - but he sure won't for a while.
Another slight nod.. "I'll keep my ears open too - see what people are saying. Keep ya'll updated on anything I hear and shit, of course."(james)
there's that tight smile again
and instead of the pack of Camels
this time he pulls out a slip of paper
and the Gnawer stands and holds it out"Gave you the number to the condo last time, this is my Beta's cell. Her name's Rune. Use it in emergency, she can get a hold of me faster than anything. There's some shit going down even I don't understand, but it's some seriously wicked mojo that's probably bigger than any of us think." he really didn't want to admit that, but he's being brutally honest with the Kin "It's been down in Batsto, and it's showing up here. It's what has us running down south."
there's a sigh
and he looks off down the street
then back again
remembering Tristan's help the other night"You know how to box or anything?"
(tristna)
He nods, and takes that piece of paper, glancing at it before flipping open his violin case and setting it inside, closing the instrument away again and flicking lock closed. "appreciate it. Heard some rumours floating around about shit in Batsto.. but no specifics." He understands the honesty - and he'd rather have that brutally, then be unprepared for equally brutal and far more fatal beat and carve going around.
He stands, with a slight stretch (and be honest, slight grin at the ache in thigh muscles) before he chuckles. "More street brawl then anything else, but guess it could be called Boxing.....if you stretch the definition a bit."(james)
there's a slight roll of muscular shoulders in a shrug
and maybe a nod of satisfaction"Religious revival is the best way to sum it up. But something's blinding kin in the vestige of Gaia. I don't know much about the killings, or how they're happening, but I wanted to make sure you could defend yourself. Got any weapons?"
(tristan)
A nod as he takes that in. Blinding - not good. But then he chuckles softly. "never leave home without them." A glance at the street, before he picks up his violin case, and turns the back edge toward James. Rap of knuckles gives a distinctly metalic ring, before he turns it back around. Reinforced case, with beloved instrument padded carefully and well inside. Added murmur. "Blades here and there as well. but crack a guy in the melon with that and he ain't getting up for a while."(james)
"Oh good."grinned
that's one less worry, now
his voice is soft"Nice to have family around again, Tristan, just wanted to make sure you stuck around."
(tristan)
He grins and nods. "Custom job from a friend in kentucky. His little eyes lit up when I told him what I wanted, and he worked extra hard on it." He looks up to catch that gaze, the soft smile, the grin.. and he nods. "Ain't plannin on going anywhere for a while yet. Nice to be considered family again too. Been on the road a loooooooooong time."(james)
"Me too." there's a wry grin at that
then he's silent for a few moments"Guess I'm gonna get to the studio, now that I found you."
(tristan)
He chuckles, softly, and nods. Mutual understanding by those who have been there, who know the ways better then most, who avoid going home longer then some. Softly "Gonna try and get enough for a place more substantial then the by the hour hotel down the way soon... then go and visit Moma Grace - room enough for two if you like, once things die down and shit... I know she'd love to see ya. She remembers every one of us who have ever crossed her doorstep."
He chuckles, fondly, before that silence draws on easily enough.. and then... brows lift slightly.. "Studio?"(james)
"I can see if I can pull some strings, if you want."softly offered "I've been crashing at Rune's for awhile now, but she got an apartment for the pack, might be able to help out if you're looking for a place."that's when the grin rakes sly
"Yeh, work on the bags or something.... gotta burn off the Rage somehow."
(tristan)
He's a little startled at the offer.. but he nods, smile appreciative.. "I'd appreciate that - least until I can get my own, or they catch the nutjob." And brows lit at that sly grin.. "Ah of course - want a sparring partner? I've got that east side brawling style that could use a bit of refinement, I'm sure..." though its clear the option to say 'not tonight thanks' is clearly open.(james)
the easy grin is back
maybe a bit amused at the surprise"Sure.... it's about a mile walk. And I'll talk to Rune and see what she can do for the time being. C'mon."
he nods towards the North
hands slipping into the pockets of his trench
rebar sling picked up from where it rested against the wall
metal clinking as it's slipped onto his shoulder
and he's leading the way towards the studio(tristan)
He returns that grin, and roll of shoulders slide his coat back into place before easy step pulls him into stride with his friend. Hand switch puts violin into oppisite hand, free hand slides into pocket, and he just follows that lead, admitting. "And truth be told - neeeeeeeeed to stretch a bit or I won't be able to move tomorrow." oh and that grin slides wicked, don't it?(james)
that gets another laugh
just bursting out of the Gnawer"So you think another workout is going to help?"
he doesn't seem to be paying the most attention to where they're going
but he knows the way to the studio like the back of his hand
strolling along the street in that easy ground devouring stride
twenty minutes later they're arriving at some little dive of a gym
the windows are dirty and the place should be condemned
the door opens into an alley and not the front road
and it damn well seems like home to Jamesthere's an kind grin to the geezer behind the counter
couple bucks and brand new pack of Camels slapped down cause he's not a member
some mumbled and wheezed phrase in return
the tenant doesn't even look up from the staticky black and white tv
but as late as it is? the place inside is empty
few bags scattered around
weight set here and there
ropes and gloves hung on the wall
and two raised up boxing ringshe heads straight to the back ring
sling and trench and sweatshirt and t-shirt dumped onto the nearby bench
leaves him in those ragged BDUs a more gray than white wifebeater
edges of ashed scars creeping up onto his shoulders from beneath fabric
long strips of fabric pulled out from yet another pocket of the trench
weight slides down onto the bolted slats
elbows resting on his knees
slowly beginning to wrap his hands"You need any gear?"
(tristan)
Which brins an answering grin from the kin - just shining free. "Never know till we try, hm? Sides.. all the experts say that you know, changing your work out styles is good for building strength. And if I catch another date with that one? I'm gonna neeeeed my strength."
Wiggles brows, and follows that easy ground eating stride and matches it with each step of his own. Comfortable. Easy. Family.
He watches the exchange between the geezer and James, and nods a hello to the man who doesn't even look up, following back to the ring. Been a long time since he's been in a place like thiss too, and acrid scent of sweat and blood tangles in nostrils and pulls another grin from his lips. Violin case is set down carefully, and coat slipped off, dropped to cover it, and flannel soon following, leaving him in a surprisingly clean t-shirt. Borrowed it from his.. ride... and all. Jeans aren't in much better shape then those battered BDU's of his companion, and t-shirt covers the scars he may have. He nods, chuckling. "Didn't quite come prepared this time, so yeah."(james)
hands open and close and flex in the linen wraps
not too tight, not too loose - perfect
then the Gnawer stands to streeeeetch out the muscles in his back
walking over to a locker along the wall
the lock spins
rusty metal creaks open
and a part of the opening must be his holding it on the hingesone set of wraps
one set of gloves
padded head guard with mouthpiece
each tossed back in turn to the Kin"Don't worry..... headguard's mine."
just to know it's in better shape than the rest of the joint
he just grabs another set of gloves
and a bandana used to tie back the heavy dreads(tristan)
He doesn't watch taht stretch. Really. Honest. (who's he kidding?) and he grins as things are tossed and caught easily, settling to sit and wrap up his hands. quickly, efficiently. It's been a while, yes - but he's been in a place like this before.
Flex of fingers, and headguard taken. brow lifts and he studies the gnawer... and you know what? he ain't no fool. Headguard goes on, beause if he misses pulling back a punch, well... it'll hurt like a bitch.
Gloves follow wrapping, and experimental swing taken, quick onetwo, and he nods, hitting his gloves together and rolling his shoulders, his neck.. "float like a buttahfly, sting like a bee..." said through easy grin.(james)
yes, he gave the headguard to the kin for a reason
just in case
he doesn't want to knock him out
or knock teeth out
or anything like that
he'll feel bad enough for bruising him
(but he did offer)
strapping the gloves on good and tighta low, growling chuckle as he climbs up into the ring
reaching out to tap the Kin's gloves with his own
rogue grin raking across his lips
a lot easier without a mouthguard clenched in"Cry in the studio, win on the battlefield."
winked before he gets into a stance
he'll let Tristan throw first(tristan)
He chuckles, stepping into the ring, making sure that mouthguard is in place, firmly... and hell - his form is already bruised a bit (check out the back of his neck, hm? marked.) but he did offer.
Though he'll appreciate keeping his teeth, thank you.
Proper stance taken, and feet move in slight shuffle, watching the way the Gnawer moves, taking his time before taking that first swing - it may be his only chance for a clean one, and he knows it..
a few moments, and then indeed, the throws that first right.. and the match is on.(james)
there's other animals that the pack has been compared to
Decker's a bull
Luc's a stag
Rune's a fucking seeeeerpent
James? has something rather feline about him
smooth and supple
and there's something of a sly grin still on his lipsright hook has him feinting to the side
left glove reaching out to guide the glove on past
and his right connects solidly with jaw(tristan)
Solidly connects.
Oh this is gonna hurt.
He shakes his head a little, chuckling, and nodding as glove lifts to make sure headguard is still straight (becuse he..er. never mind.) and this time, he's watching a bit more closely and when he swings again, he's watching for return catlike strike. his own grin playing over lips around that guard.(james)
the kid's fast
and he learns quick
the Gnawer goes down to avoid the strike
but the glove connects anyway
grazing into his cheek for a not quite complete hit
that's about when there's a left jab straight into Tristan's gut(tristan)
He is fast, and he's watching, learning with every move, and incorporating it into his own, though the gut shot gets a whooooosh of air ended by a little grunt (hours. hours. of play. earlier.) but he flows into the movement, his own left instead of going to cover his belly (which he wants too) it lifts, angles, and connects with jaw - reflexive move guided just enough to swing proper, if a little weaker then it would have been normally...(james)
a little weaker
but well aimed enough
it causes the Full Moon to step back a bit
not from the pain of impact
it takes a lot more than that
it's just the sudden filling of his vision with yellow glovethat's startling, man
which then connects with jaw
and it's instinct
he doesn't mean to whomp back on him
but that's a lightning fast hit that rockets back at the Kin(imogen)
Tristan and James duke it out, blow for blow. Kin versus Garou. Someone might draw conclusions from that. Metaphors and other such things. Little guy versus big guy (my money's on the little guy...)However, they are mostly alone in their poised brawl, and a block down, Imogen steps into the the fourteenth (it's really the thirteenth, they never have a thirteenth floor, as if naming it "fourteenth" somehow makes it more lucky) floor hallway of an apartment building. They always try so hard to keep business like her's quiet. The landlords prefer it that way. So do the inhabitants of such buildings.
They'd just rather .not. know.
So perhaps as she ducks beneath the yellow "do not cross" the hallway is basically empty. Perhaps her boots are hollow in a nearly silent space, as she walks toward the elevator, and presses the button. And perhaps, finally, as she enters the elevator, tapping the ground floor, she is alone.
It's not a warm building, the heat is turned as low as it could be, so her shoulders hunch slightly as she waits for the elevator doors to close, weight shifting from booted foot to booted foot.
(tristan)
It'd take a lot more then that, he knows, and feels small victory that he gets the Warrior to step back. We'll take a point for effort, thanks.
And as he's stepping back, making sure his balance is maintained (abs. ache.) all the boy sees is a blur.
God. damn. thats. fast.
And by the time he sees it, arms are caught mid upward movement not even close enough to have a hope of deflecting the whindrush that follows that glove with connects. solid.
sending the kin stumbling back - thankfully against the ropes else he fall from three punches and embarass himself.(james)
there's a half step to follow as the kin stumbles
it's aggressive instinct
knock down, drag out, beat into. a. pulp.
it's how he earned his deed name anyway
there's a dark flare in darker eyes
the beginnings of a snarl on his lipsbut he stops after that half step
visably shaking the Rage back down with a roll of muscled shoulders
so he moves back to the middle of the ring
letting Tristan pull himself off the ropes(tristan)
Give the boy credit - at least a little. He doesn't flinch (though by god that snarl and flare is unsetting as rage twists through him and cinches tight at the small of his back and hands are up and protecting - just in case.
It's instinct. He understands that.
He pulls himself off the ropes and moves his jaw a bit (ow.) before making sure that he's kinda in one piece, nudge the headguard up, and yes boys and girls.
Steps back to the middle of the ring.
If he's lucky? James will at least carry him to a safe place to sleep it off after.
shoulders roll, and he moves again, wary, searching for an opening (the boy. gives. none.) determined to get one decent hit in tonight. feint with the right, and the left swings in vicious roundhouse. He doesn't hold back. He knows it'll take a lot more then he has to even phase the FullMoon.(james)
he gives Tristan time
to either step back into the middle of the ring
or call he's had enough of a workout
and give the boy credit he does
not many kin would step back up towards a FullMoon
even one that was taking it easy on 'emblood splatters on the matts as lip splits on teeth
shoulder drops and he moves with the momentum of the blow
then the motion reverses itselfboots plant
(he doesn't step into it)
thighs tense
(he doesn't throw his weight into it)
hips rotate
(he doesn't lunge at the poor kin)
flank stretches
(he doesn't even close his fist completely in the glove)
right arm extends
(he doesn't even properly aim)
and WHAM(tristan)
Body rotates w force of his punch and as he's pulling back the motion of his sparring partner (family) is reversed and it's like the world goes into sudden.
slow.
motion.
He can see it coming.
He can feel it coming.
Arms come up in some effort to deflect and for half a moment he has to pray to gaia and all that's holy (and momma grace too) that James holds back...
And in that one second before the flash, he's starting to pull back... and then... then?
WHAM
Head is rocked to the side by the force of the blow, arms flail backwards as if some windmill effet with stop body from falling.
It doesn't.
he hits the mat with body parts in rapid succession. Foot (stumble) ass (jar) elbow (slam) shoulder (crash) head (ow.)
And the slow motion crawls to sudden stop as eyes close... and breath is shallow as he spits mouthguard out with a groan.(james)
WHAM
..... shit.he can't help but cringe as the Kin hits the mat
even with the blood dripping down his chin
the Gnawer looks positively sheepish
(hey, he offered Jamey boy)
falling into a crouch beside Tristan
dreads falling over his shoulder as if to reach out between them"Hey...." touching shoulder with the glove "Y'allright?"
(tristan)
Even with the mouthguard, he spits blood as well. (ow.) and it's followed by drunken chuckle as he cracks an eye to look up at james (ow.) and mutter... "dude. get the plates off that truck for me, willya?"
gloves find the mat, and he's pushing himself up with a groan... (and who thought working out after the hours of you know.. working out (nudgenudgewinkwink) before hand was a good idea?)
"Christ. gladyaheldback."
else he wouldn't have woken up yet.(james)
he's still looking sheepish
common, a kin versus a full moon
that's just not fair
even if the kin offered
laughing a bit himself"Glad Rune gave permission for you to stay at the condo tonight."... uh... when did he talk to her? reaching out with a glove to tilt Tristan's head up, glancing at his pupils to see if they're uneven "Wouldn't let you go out onto the street after a hit like that. Any bright lights or just red glove?"
(decker)
Move like a butterfly. Sting like a bee.Not quite, but the pair up there weren't half bad, for hoods with no formal training. Not that Decker would be able to tell much. All the good fights were on HBO, and he never got HBO in his trailer.
Decker felt the dreadlocked (who the fuck boxes with dreads? geez...) one from blocks away; might be he smelled the other the minute he got in the door. It took a cigarette bribe for George to let James in. Decker wasn't gonna waste that ticket. "With them," he tells George (who looks up, for once, wide-eyed). When the stare stays on him, deer in headlights-style, Decker kindly raises a hand to diaphragm level and jabs a finger at the two in the ring to steer the man's eyes in the right direction. "Mind if I visit 'em?"
No? Didn't think so. The rageladen (gibbous. moon. waxing) thug falls away a step from the desk at the windleaking door, turns, and heads into the slum gym. His footsteps echo in the high ceiling, across the cement floor, undampened by the low ring of padding along the walls.
Upon reaching the two, he ducks through the ropes to stand over fallen Tristan, looking tilt-headed down at him. Final verdict? "Hell'd you do to 'im?"
(tristan)
Tilts his head for that look, and doesn't question when, or how. He's been around pack before - some shit just is and you just don't question it. Not fair maybe, but he did offer, and he'll probably offer again.
After a few lessons.
Who's he kidding - a lot of lessons.
"remind me to thank her.. y'know, when I can remember her name. My name. yeah."
Chuckled as he shakes his head slightly, attempting to get the room to stop swimming, answering Decker as he studies him...
"Simple.... big. red. glove. white flash! big. red. glove."(james)
Pack
yeh, he felt Decker walking up
but his attention was on the Kin
whom he's slowly helping to sit up
much easier to make the world stop spinning when it's right side up
this is something he remembers intimately"Held back?"
offered with a shrug
(decker)
So while James is slowly helping Tristan up, Decker watches. Then he gets bored and looks around the darkened gym instead. Not much in the way of machines here...this ain't no 24 Hour Fitness. A few floormats, uneven bars, rings with one belt tattered (dare you to get on), pull-up bars along the walls, and three rings scattered across the floor. All lit by skylights during the day, and too few high-power incandescents too far apart.Decker gets bored with looking around the gym soon enough. "Quit babyin' him, James," he mutters and reaches down, grabs Tristan by the wrist, and hauls him to his feet.
(tristan)
Hand slides under arm to use some sort of leverage to get glove off, then the other, and fingers lift to ditch the headguard too, grin finding way to his lips again as the room slides from several parts into one. single. room. again. (thank god.)
Fingers slide curls back from his face and he chuckles.
ANd then Decker grabs him and he's suddenly on his feet. (holychristlookittheroom spiiiiiiiiiiin.) and he's just as suddenly bent over, hands planted on knees as he coughs (ow! stomach muscles) before he's using Decker's shoulder to pry himself upwards to stand again. and patting. facitiously. "gee. thanks."(james)
"Not babyin, I just didn't want him to puke when the room started spinning out of control again."he can't help but laugh at the slight blanch
peeling off his own gloves
gathering up the gear lent Tristan
shoving it all back into the locker
in which the lock is probably all that's holding the door on
well, the bottom hinge sorta helpsfinally of a mind to wipe away the blood on his chin
crimson staining linen wraps
the fact there's a new stain on his wifebeater doesn't seem to even register"Think you can walk, Tristan, or need me to call a cab?"
there's a quick fill-in to his packmage on Eagle's voice
to the where and why he's taking the Kin with him(decker)
Decker? Looks from the gloved hand on his shoulder to the arm attached to the hand to the shoulder attached to the arm to the head attached to the shoulder to the face attached to the head. The eyes are grey and consummately belligerent: Decker wasn't one for casual contact.A hard shrug of that shoulder tosses Tristan's hand aside. Simultaneously the totemphone fills him in on all he needs to know. The Fenrir grunts, fists in the pockets of his enormous jacket, reading the inscriptions of blood on the sanded ring floor. Here the splattered drops of a steady drip, there the fine mist sprayed from a blow landed well, and there the thick mucousoids coughed up after a gut hit. Some old, some new.
Then he turns back to the musician. A long assessment of a look, eyes narrowed to some contemptuous version of a squint. "Hell's a fiddler doin' boxin'?" Just look at Decker's knuckles: big, prominent, stiffened from years of impaction. Couldn't possibly play a violin.
(tristan)
SHoulder throws hand off and he just grins - decker's damn lucky that move didn't result in sudden vomit all over the thug. ain't he?
He blinks, one or two times, and then his laughter joins James' and he takes careful stock as he climbs out of the ring and moves toward his things.. "I can walk. Probably should walk it off." Wipes his mouth with his t-shirt, getting the rest of the blood from his mouth and then. Then he answers Decker's question "Gettin the hell beat outa me, whatcha think?" Wry grin, and then shoulders roll in a shrug. "Spendin time with family. Plain n' simple. Next time we'll be jammin on the street and 'caterwallin'..."(james)
the t-shirt is shrugged on
the sweatshirt over it
layer it on up, Jamey-boy
cause there's a trenchcoat slipped on over it all
he'll keep the wraps up on just for wamrth
rebar clanking in the sling"C'mon then.... I only paid for an hour."
and he's already heading towards the door
though slow enough to make sure Tristan's walking a straight (ha!) line
.... well... walking anyway(decker)
Decker whips a look at James' back. Family?Perfect. Just fuckin' perfect. James has to put up with Dire, so now he's got Tristan to get back at Decker with. Or something like that. The Modi swings between the ropes, drops down to the cement, and trails vaguely in his packmate's wake.
(tristan)
Flannel slipped on, coat follows, and hand - still wrapped, will take care of that, wash and return later - grasps handle of his violin case and he turns to follow James and Decker out. Slow enough that Tristan can walk. Though the line isn't too straight at first (and he ain't too straight ever) but steadies, and soon he's following and matching stride for stride. Grin soon taking its place over swollen lip. "Remind me to find someone to teach me some moves so I get more'n'one hit in next time..(james)
there's... well... a bit of a smirk
he can feel that look
(Yeh Decker, family... meet my kin.)"Sure thing Tristan, we'll practice next time instead."
then they're out the door, and heading home
Posted by james at January 15, 2003 12:00 AM
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