February 23, 2003.02.23.03. - misfits and masks [nina][noje]
(nina matthews)
Yesterday off the coast of New Jersey an oil refinery exploded--
(...dream a little dream.)The grounds trembled [Learn.to.swim.learn.swim.learn.to.swim] the sky blackened and for a moment everyone remembered...
There's a line outside of the local hardware store, and the usually unexcitable natives of this depressed neighborhood wait almost nervously... In thier hands are butcher's tickets but in thier eyes is something else entirely a strange sort of hope.What the hell?!
(james)
everyone trembled
everyone remembered
everyone feared
the speculations rolled like the thunderous boom that washed across the lands
(what if, what about, could it have happened again, what are you going to do now.....)
paranoia fizzled electric through the storm riddled air
weighting and darkening the already cloudy skies
slashes of yellow and sickly green within the black above the pristine (endless) white
as if the impending weather wasn't enough to worry aboutwell, it didn't seem to worry him too much
and while any Garou in their right mind would be staying inside out of this weather
he's..... got things to do
one can only stay in a condo for so long
he was born on the streets and slept under the stars
only when the climate became a little too hostile (like, er, today) would shelter be sought
but no matter how the wind howls and tries to blow away the stars high above
it seems he has this undeniable urge to see themso we find: one Gnawer
strolling down the sidewalk on some errand pulled out of thin air so he had a conventional reason to go wandering out into the miserable blustery night, trench hugged high up around his shoulders, dreads attempting a futile escape from his scalp with each strong gust sending flurries of white up off the frozen ground, dark eyes behind those little sunglasses, because even though it's night and he's apparently one of those strong types? those flurries sting.(nina)
The line is almost oppressive [..lovely bodies in a line - a stitch it time...] as people jostle and stetch look at thier watch, and SOME actually sit on the floor. Coats curled about thier collective forms, papers blowing from wind-bruised fingers.A van turns the corner and pulls up the street, before it fully stops the passenger side of the cab door pops open emitting a (..barely..) coordinated blonde with more energy than common sense - it seems. "It's right'there, that buildin by'th post'box." A thick southern accent drawls froom the open doorwat the driver shouting at the girl to get back inside the cab even as he lurched to a halt...
Her grip shaken free, there is the brief look of shock that registers on her face before she lands (..feet first..) but her velocirty causing her to sink to her knees as well.
Ouch.
The heads from the line perk up at the arrival of the truck -- is this the shipment?
(james)
a brow lifts at the line up ahead
(What the...... oh. Right. That -other- War)
and he can't help but shake his head a little
some people and their priorities
there's a moment of thought consumed by the process of figuring out which way is the best way to get around the lingering line of desperate folk braving the weather to get supplies with the most minimal amount of contact or preaching or questions and to the QuickieMart down the way which has the pack's favorite be..."Shit. 'Scuse me."
he looks as surprised as most in the line
but he's not watching the truck
he's looking at the little southern gal that burst out of the cab only to nearly take him out in her velocity driven fall(nina)
He's assaulted it with it.The smell, the bones [...the blood - predator stirreth] of something unquatifiable and yet distinct. Irish-english.. -something- grey eyes blink at him started and she tried to scramble off his form but only tangling them further.
A real genius this one.
(..exactly.)"Oh s'cuse me." An elbow in his cheek, before she reserves direction. "Cripe, jeez ah'didn't mean--" ahip on his shoulders and the small ish form finally crawls under his arm and on the ground with a shaking sound.
...is she laughing?
"--ah'm sorry ah jus'got the WORST luck."(james)
there's a blink
(good Gaia she's a spidermonkey)
his balance veritably swayed with her slipsidecrawl to right herself
the strong breeze is not helping, either
he makes sure she's quite set before even attempting to move
because that could just start the whole process all over againbones, blood,
predator reacts the deepened thrum boiling so far hidden inside
a quick breath that grunts aggressive
then waxes poetic into an easy smile
dusting snow off of the pathwork quilt trench"No worries" seems that pseudolaughter is infectious "Sidewalk around here has a habit of reaching out to trip people. Y'allright?"
(nina)
Easy-going humor.He can see it on her features before she manages a reply - the driver cuttioing off her line of though with the [tick-tick-tap] motion of pen against clipboard. "Where do you want these Ms. Matthews." And she shrugs briefly a hand reaching up to rub the back of her neck, even as lips press together..
"Ahm sure th'owner would know better'n me." She drawls her nose wrinkling a bit as her eyes snake to the line with growing realization. "Jeezus--" Another glance snakes up to the over-tall image of the raggedy-man with an almost analytical cast. "All these people here for'th masks?"
(james)
the sides of his mouth drawn down into partial frown
the brows climb towards the tangled dreads in partial acclimation
the shoulders, then, roll through a muscular shrug"Dunno, just came up on the line myself. Masks?"
there's an idle curiosity captured in his expression
while he can't quite place the sundermal reaction that's tripfiring beneath his skin
he doesn't have those wicked mojo heebie jeebies to go running (...yet)
so it seems a parcel of casual conversation is the order of the moment
since they've already played Twister on the sidewalk, and all
might as well talk a little(nina)
Blonde lashes flick down against her cheek and as a box [ One of many..] is carried past she manages to swipe a smaller box from within. [Too much energy, and not the common sense god gave corn--her Daddy used to say.] But she manages the feat without any major mishaps to her own credit and breaking the seal with her thumb she tosses the box towards James.."--seems the wentwent to Triad--with the caveat that they'd give out a percentage of th'distribution at reduced rates in area wit'high risk.."
Rights?
(..the rights to what..?)The box in his hand stood [seal broken] waiting to be opened.
(tristan)
Of all the days to run out of *ahem* sugar, it would have to be today, the windy, little pellet slinging, hat snatching, blustery day. You almost expect to see a certain pooh bear chasing after a piglet on a thread - it’s that kind of windy day. Instead, you find a tall, pretty boy kin who’s long strides eat the walk between here and there, and there and here in quickened bundled up movements. Those jeans hide two pairs of long johns underneath, and there’s a warm sweater and two t-shirts under that long warm coat too. One hand adorned with fingerless gloves (lotta good those are doing too) and wrapped around the handle of his violin case. Sure - most people would have left it at home, but Tristan? Not most people.
He never leaves home without the violin, and its not just because of security - hell, he’s still getting used to the fact he has a home where he can leave it every now and again - but for protection as well (oh yes - all hail the mighty violin wielding pretty boy! Be afraid, be very afraid!) and with all that goes on here on the streets, every bit of help is warranted. There’s a grocery bag in one hand, filled with the things needed to fill out the pantries of two apartments. Sugar (heh.), of course, coffee, cocoa, eggs, bread, sandwich meat, cheese and fruit. The basics every growing boy(s) seems to run out of during the coldest days of the year.(james)
one box, tossed through the air
one blond, machinegunning what does not seem like English to him
he blinks
he catches
.... he smiles?"One more time... in English?"
it wasn't the accent
more like the caveat and percentage and Triad and huh?
(.... woooah there, Nelly. Triad?)
fingers pause on the opened top of the box (seal broken) as brows lift awaiting her hopefully slower answer(nina)
"Uhm triad is a pharmacutical agency--well sorta y'know?"She's just a lil' font of information isnt she and steal a few more boxes from the top she tosses them am at the line. With the words, "S'a nasty day go'wan, git'" but unfortunatly those tosses begin to start a small sort of feeding frenzy [ People who have nothing always want more..] that crowds around the girl nearly snatching the last two boxes away from her before some of the line reform while the lucky few go home.
Drops of sleet-rain- drizzle catch on hair and face even as she pulls her raincoat closer zipping it up.
"Since th'splosion n'all."
(james)
"Right.... right."..... sorta.
something of a sage nod could be inserted here
even if he still looks to be a bit confused
with the dreads and ratty clothes and raggedy coat
safe to assume he's not one that watches a lot of news or knows the stocks on wallstreet
he could very well be one of those nothingers that is always craving (fighting, pushing, shoving) more
and even if he's happy actually having nothing, playing innocent sometimes helps"So.... what kind of masks again?"
he seems to be wanting to covet the box he has, now
keep it from those leftover bystanders with hungry, prowling looks
it has nothing to do with the fact the last time he opened a strange box, he got sucked into Wonderland
really.no, seriously.
(nina)
A brow raises, and she gives him a look that might qualify the object of her observance as some sort of alien, or else some other thing of foreign orgin. And shrugging she gestures to [unopened] box in his hands."S'a personal air filter."
I mean, it SOUNDS innocuous. And the, "..it filters out toxins and such regula'stuff fer allergies'nsuch--and then it does MORE stuff too." there that small paper-thin shiver before the delivery man shoves a clipboard at her depanding her scatterbrained attention.
"Oh." And pulling the rubber-band-leashed pen from the board she signs her name.
(james)
"Hu..... oooooh."he even has presence of mind to look positively sheepish
makes sense now, doesn't it
fingers drum a staccato beat on the cardboard to signify that could be quite useful with the impending war of humans
(if nothing else, their fear stinks)
what he doesn't let clue in are those stories he heard
sure, gasmasks filter and protect those with allergies and whatever
but then there's the content that's in the filter itself that you're breathing
the poisons and hallucinagins and addictions and other countless particles of doom and destruction
or so sayeth the warnings of the great Guru Meathook
of course, he was also a Vietnam Vet so who knows how much truth was in his mystical ramblings
better safe than sorry, Jamey-boy(tristan)
There’s a minor feeding frenzy up ahead of some sort, caught only towards the tail end and quick decisions heads steps shift to carry tall frame across the street to the tune of a honked horn a ‘hey watch it buddy’ in the midst of jaywalking jaunt. Not a day to get caught up in any frenzy of any kind really, it would seem. Shoulders roll, slightly, easing the tension and yet another decision is quickly reached - coffee shop ahead fills the street with rain-diffused scents of fresh cinnamon rolls and with an appreciative sniff, lips curve into playful grin and the coffee shop has become his new destination…(nina)
The delivery man, [..in red thread the name 'HANK' is stitched on his Triad service 'Serving the customer one person at a time..' uniform.] persists flipping up the papers to another less common looking contract beneath.She's about to sign the second document as well in fact the upward slope of an 'N' is seen before she stops. Blinking at 'Hank' that cherublike face curls into faint annoyance, "Ah told Mista'Jenkins ah wasn't signing that until he finished with th'preclause.."
(james)
the newest contract isn't really any of his business
in fact, the entirety of those papers on the clipboard really isn't
but it's the annoyance in her voice that gets his attention
one dark brow slipping upwards
that would be a casual glance, there, tooeven if he can't place it.... she is Kin
that purebreed is unmistakable
(gobs and gobs and gobs and gobs of it)
there's a faint tapping noise way off in some umbral distance
notching up slowly and surely
(click. click. boom.)
it's a natural sway of events... isn't it?
Kin gets annoyed, Garou gets annoyed at thing annoying Kin, annoyance flattened
or something like thatnow if he could only place her Tribe.....
(tristan)
The door to the coffee shop is pulled open with a juggling of bags and violin and lean form slips into the shop, pulling that door closed and breathing deeply of the scents of caffeine and yeastyrisinghomemadebaking cinnamon rolls, smile pulling across features as he moves inside. On top of everything else? It’s waaaaarm. Out of the wind and pelting of rain that stings and any number of other things. An empty table chosen, and violin case is set on the seat followed by grocery bag, and then lean form stretches and unbuttons his coat. That too is tossed to the side, and it’s a brief jaunt to the counter that has him ordering two of those cinnamon rolls, one to go, and a coffee. Items gathered, he then folds tall frame to slide into the seat of the booth next to his things.(nina)
'Hank' shrugs taking a half step from the broody raggedy man Ms. Matthews is conversing with. [He hasn't had much interaction with the 'white collar schmucks' but Jenkins had come down from on high to tell him what he needed to do and no ditzy blonde was going to get him fired..] looking the smaller girl in the eye."Look Miss, I've got 15 more deliveries sceduled for tonight, and unless your planning on dragging yout little blonde--" pause keep it cool you got a scedule to keep. "--self with me in the cab till 5 am, though if you're WITH me it'll be more like 3 PM then wait. OTHERWISE you can sign it now--or I can jus' drop it back at distrubution." another barely restained breath. "EITHER WAY," stay calm buddy boy. "..you gotta make a decision."
(james)
this still really isn't his business
and he knows better than to get involved with what's not intitally his business
(lo and behold, lookey here, he's holding a box agian to top it all off)
but it's that irritation that's getting him
sure, the moon's shifting her face in the sky
she's no longer swollen and glaring down at him with all her rage-igniting might
but there's some primal things human nature simply can't overcome
and the raggedy-man fixes "Hank" with the utmost of that suddenly broody attention
(yeh, better keep it cool, boyo)(diego)
He had cheated on his trip to deliver the next load of pendants necklaces and earings to one of the stores on the island tht stocks them for him. you would think he would just fedex them or something but he has this thing about delivering in person. most of the stores finding it so hard to believe he is responsible for the work (but your so young, so small, your nothing but a child) growl and bite. he had returned to his appartment to find it empty.stepping out from his bedroom. a quick jaunt down stairs showed him that he was not there either. so now standing once more on the other side of that invisible wall.it doesnt seem as cold here. probably is but doesnt appear to be. amoung the skuttling forms of the information era the spirits of a concreate jungle he makes his way quickly to the streetcorner. his street corner. a small twisting of the area between here and there lets him peak acorss no not present. growls. prehaps he is out. or playing with the pack. whatever he is doing stomach grumbles. can find him soon get some food, the cuboards are bare afterall. retreating to an alleyway he once more checks the areas clear before sliding across.
cold slap in the face take your breath away. omg should be wearing more. 3 layers and my coat just aint enough. a beanie pulled over hair, tugged lower to cover his ears. scarf wrapped around face so he looks like some poorly dressed ninja. need warm food.
(nina)
She should call her attorney.
(..but its Sunday, and--ugh.)She exhales and finishes her name ["-ina Matthews"] on the second contract and none too soon, because a few seconds later and he might have wet himself avaoiding the freaky vibes the raggedy-man was giving off. And hopping in his truck you can almost see the tire marrks as he runs off...
Nina turns the reddish color of her cheeks not quite fading, "Ah'm sorry ah'don't even know you.." Strange moment. And she breaks the ice by holding out a hand. "Nina, an y'are?"
(james)
vibes
freaky mojo vibes in the air
(gunna rip yo' head off and piss in it vibes)
there's something of an animalistic snort as 'Hank' throws that truck into overdrive
(good riddance)and after a moment, the Ahroun gets a hold of himself
seems he's in such a pleasent mood it was bordering on overly aggressive
whoops.
whatever it is that responds (predator stirreth) primal to her blood
once again it's melting away into an easy grin
one that finds its way all the way into deep umber eyes
gloved hand finding it's way to shaking hers"James. Pleasure."
(nina)
Small hands [ ah'ain't no superhero..] shake his before sliding into her pocket. Large grey eyes blink at him and to the store where the line has dispersed a small neat [OUT OF STOCK ON MASKS] sign set out front. Gaze flickers to the box he's still holding witha faint smile."Enjoy it, James."
And the wind shifts bvriefly, the brush of rage [..like lars..] tingling against her skin, eye flicker up to the strangers, the click of realization in them. "Y- your a friend ah'Lars?"
(james)
Lars?
there's a moment of thought
it sort've overtakes the quiet smile at holding the last box
(did he plan it? just quietly standing by the wayside until the stampede forgot he had it?)
head tilting in canid curiosity and recognition"I know a Lars, mostly in passing.... so maybe?"
(diego)
like soo cold way to fucking cold. from the alleyway he steps, into the cold winds that whip along the streets feet still not used o walking on ice stagger threaten to slip, clutching at wall for balance, finally straightening once more. growl and grumble hate the cold and hate the snow...the ring of a bell and the waves of rage flowing from him. (not that thier big waves but close enough you would know what they are what they mean) poor boi who has to take his order for coffee and a chocolate muffin. poor boy being intimidated by diego he would laugh if he noticed.
(nina)
Her nose wrinkles and she might describe him, but thinks better of it. "Oh.." She shrugs lightly nodding. "Ya'jus seem like it ah'guess.." and tahts all the explanation she's ready and willing to give on that. The rain continues to cover them and she blinks upwards witha short laugh.."'Ave ah'been keepin'ya--ah'tend tah'run on at th'mouth." a faint flush even as she half steps toward the street trying to make out the signs.
(james)
"Somethin' in the wind, huh?"chuckled softly
almost knowingly
he figures he has a pretty good idea of what tipped her off
even if the moon was slimming down to nothing"Thanks for the mask Nina.... take care now."
he doesn't quite add the 'ya hear?' to the end of it
but that easy grin returns
even in the sudden addition of yet more rain to the wind
better get to the store and back before he becomes a living ice sculpture out here
and now that the line has cleared the sidewalk
seems that's going to be a much easier task than anticipated(tristan)
Not at the corner, not in either apartment, and the cupboards are bare. Elementary, dear Watson. He pulls the plate of gooey goodness slathered in butter and icing and hot and steaming fresh out of the oven yumminess toward him, fork peeling away flaky pastry, swiping up some extra butter and popping it into his mouth. For once? He doesn’t inhale.. he savors (ohgaiathat’sGOOOOOD) the bite and grins shows pure boyish delight of delicious treat.
Caught! The bells above the door jangle and in comes the abominable snow latino, and grin spreads to see that boy scared and he slides from his booth and silent steps sees him sliding up next to diego.. “So what’s a nice boy like you doing in a place like this… Gotcha a cinnamon roll, was gonna grin it home…”
(diego)
He jumps, ok not quite jumps but almost jumps. A smile spreading across his face as those waves well they dissapear, better than any drug its pretty boi kins doing miricles for the temper. "u wernt at ome i got bored" he was there 5 minutes at the most before he started pining and begun his search. only to find you here getting coffee.(nina)
And the rainhood is readjusted over her head before she turns in the other direction, hunting for a payphone.(tristan)
Posted by james at February 23, 2003 12:00 AM
He laughs and leans in to steal a kiss from those cold lips and lead Diego over to his table. “Well, I got bored and someone has to go out and buy some sugar every once in a while” That grin is positively unrepentant as he slides back to his seat and pushes the tago box toward Diego.. “You got here before the roll and coffee got cold though..” A whole five minutes, hm? “How’d your trip go?”
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