April 30, 2003.04.30.03. - giddyup [imogen-decker-carmen-dire][noje]
LOOK! DAMON POSTED FIRST!
And we didn't even have to ASK!(decker)
That green belt in the back has to be good for something other than raising property value. Sometimes during the day they see people jogging through, lost in the energy-booster of mp3 players strapped to their arms. No one ever walks. No one ever just goes there to...unwind.Which might be what he's doing tonight. Past midnight and the Modi lies flat, face-up on one of the wood and steel benches scattered alongside the path winding through the green belt. The pavement cool under his fingertips trailing off the bench. The scent of grass drifts up toward a sky gradually thickening with clouds rolling out of the west, out of the continent's mass. They tower high and menacing, and their bellies are black stained with orange from the city lights.
There will be thunder come morning. There is always thunder in his skull, where his rage pounds relentless. He can't remember what it felt like not to have it. Even before rage, he had always had a reason for anger.
A shooting star in the space between clouds: fading fast. His grey eyes snap to the afterglow, and then he shuts them. Seen from behind the back of the bench, he's almost invisible: just a single trailing arm. Seen from the front, he's stretched along the length of the bench, legs crossed at the ankle, ankles propped on the opposite armrest. Almost (never) at peace.
(imogen)
The weather has grown cloudy throughout the day, the blue skies of days previous giving away to grey cast heavens, the promise of rain. In fact, the air crackles with the promise of thunder (it won't be for days, but those more attuned to the weather, those with instincts sharper than a blade), heavier air, laden with moisture. Tomorrow it will rain, and tomorrow it will storm, but for this evening (it's later than evening now, in that grey area of night that is neither today nor yesterday), it's only the charged silence.The mercedes hadn't been there for half the day, most of the evening, and even now, it still ticks softly, cooling in the parking lot as it's owner's feet scrape softly across the cement of the pathway.. It's warm enough to barely need the jacket she tugs slightly further over her shoulder, the motion ending as her hand slides upward toward her hair. Strands pushed away, taken from her eyes, pressed behind her ears. The sky is nearly starless, only a few breaks amidst the clouds allowing a hint of the night time sky to come through, light through the darkness; it could almost be poetic. Her eyes flicker up, dark and shadowed scanning the dull flatness of sky darkened by clouds as she moves, the sky heavy, feeling almost weighted (it's the air). Perhaps she sees the same flash of a shooting star (they do, after all, look at the same sky). Her hand slides from her hair to her pocket, searching for somewhere to put her hand, searching for a cigarette, searching for a lighter.
The green belt is nearly empty at this time, and really, a flamehaired woman like herself perhaps shouldn't walk such pathways at this time. She might have seen him, caught in her kitchen window, she might have caught sight of him while stepping out onto the back balcony to smoke.
It's just as likely that she was struck with the sudden restless need to move.
(james)
sometimes you don't have to see someone to know they're there
from far off, even across the rolling green belt of lush and manicured value
he knows where the Modi is
even though the moon's nothing but a black space in the sky, just thinking about peeking that glowing smile back to the world
he can feel that Rage - or maybe he can just feel the presence of pack
just as surely as the Fenrir can feel him approachinglong easy strides find their way across the grass
he doesn't particularly stick to any of the paths
as home as he is in the concrete scab of a city festering and glowing against the night
walking the sculpted sidewalks for miles and miles and miles
it's nice to feel that padded skwoosh beneath one's boots
the sink of thick grass molding beneath wornout soles towards the moist ground
it's warm, he doesn't need a jacket, dreads tangling themselves across the shoulders of a black t-shirt
it's fitted enough to follow the slopes and planes of muscle through his chest
gathering and wrinkling above the waist of black levi's just beginning to fade in the washby the time he reaches the Modi, one arm's extending in silent offer
no joint this time, just MiccyD's french fries
still steamily warm from the couple block (even if roundabout) hike(dire)
Dire appears walking down the side walk carrying Carmen.. He'd gotten a call about a half hour ago. He was at Dani's. Carmen had gotten caught with a switch blade and a murderous look. Where she'd gotten it Carrie didn't know. Dire surmised she probly got it out of his coat at some point down the line. He didn't yell. Didn't scream. Didn't pitch a fit. He just came and gathered her up. Even let her keep hold of the blade. He didn't think it smart to try and take it away from her right now(decker)
Convergence of the pack: like the universe collapsing in on itself in slow motion. Least it feels like way deep beneath his breastbone, over his solar plexus, where Eagle's mark left him forever bonded.One...
...two and three.Staring straight up, his perspective is odd. Their heads appear first, then shoulders, then upper bodies, then waist and thighs. Below the knees, he can see nothing of them. His grey eyes pass over James wordless. Then Dire and Carmen. The backs of his fingers lift from the pavement and he reaches out for a fry or two. The other hand is behind his head, cushioning.
No words; none needed. He doesn't make room for them to sit down, but for once it might not be an act of rudeness. He's comfortable where he is. They'll find ways to get comfortable, too. There's another bench across the way, a recycling/trash canister in wrought green iron beside it.
(and four.)
It's the sound of her footsteps he recognizes it. Or it's her scent, so faint that he should not be able to smell it in this form. Or it's the feel of her presence, simply that, nothing more. His head comes off his hand a slight distance, and he cranes around to catch a glimpse. A silent lifting of his mood, slight but noticeable: glad. Head back down. He eats his fries and is quiet.
(carmen)
Storm clouds roil in the 4 year olds (al.most.five!) eyes, and the wings of little legs are more vicious then nature, aimed carefully though to miss daddy. One arm hooked around his neck, the other tucked around baby ‘Manda, protectively, and her curls are tumbled in a mass of braids just like Eva’s, sliding over daddy’s shoulder from where her head lays tucked against such strength. She ain’t even said a word yet… still mad.(imogen)
There must be something amusing about the sudden convergence of pack and kin on such an odd out of the way place. A bit of pruned and controlled flora amidst a concrete jungle. Decker senses the approaching of packmates in some sort of sixth sense that is perhaps something she could never understand.She senses the Garou in something more immediate a throb of rage, a pulse of fury; discordant, disaffecting. Painful across her flesh. A quick glance at Carmen buried in her Dire's arms, and the tiniest kinfolk certainly has the aura of mad kid about her. One can just imagine the scowl, though her face is buried.
She'll need to make a note to stay away from those legs.
She doesn't bother sitting, as she glances toward the prone Modi, the McD's carrying Ahroun, and the child carrying Skald as her fingers find purchase on the lighter in the depths of her jacket pocket, drawing it out.
(james)
he doesn't look up
he wasn't even particularly looking at Decker, either
the offer of food automatic, just as it swings towards Dire and the child
(nod up)
Imogen, too
he SuperSized it for a reasonfor once, with the Eagle pack, it's food passed around instead of a joint
by the time they've made it back to himself
he's found the curb that separates sidewalk from the deep grass
(he would have been surprised if the Modi did move - r.h.i.p. and all)
ankles crossing in partial indian style sit(dire)
He smiles softly and murmers to Carmen"I know you're upset... but think you could stop for a little while? There's James I know you've wanted to see him a while"
(decker)
A strange sort of juxtaposition, this.Midnight gathering in the little patch of carefully manicured wilderness in the heart of the city. Wolves in the blood of each and every one here. Moonless cloudy night overhead. Food passing around silently; the quiet is filled with the sound of crickets, and with the subdermal, muted thrum of rage and bloodhunger.
A mile from here, there's a patch of ground where they can still smell blood if they tried.
After the fries pass through the second rotation, after Dire breaks the lingering silence of the spring night, the Modi flexes his frame into a stretch. Straightens up slowly, pulling his feet off the far armrest of the bench. One foot slides off to hit the ground. The other draws back a distance, and now there's room for one to sit at the far end. Two, perhaps, if the second were child-sized.
As for him, he leans back against the closer armrest. Swings one wrist over the back; the other arm hangs over the armrest, fingers trailing, not quite touching his packmate. The familiarity of nearness is there, though; the comfort of pack.
Lawnmower's been lazy. The grass is long enough to brush his hand. He doesn't particularly mind.
(carmen)
lil arms tighten around Dire for a long moment and then she nods a little, and takes a breath and forces one leg to stop its angry swing, though storm clouds still linger in dark eyes after a few minutes she summons an almost smile. “k daddy.. I try…” oooooh but then Misser james offers ‘donalds! And she only takes a couple fries and smiles a little brighter at’im.. “tank’oo misser James…” murmured around a fry that’s already made it’s way to her mouth..(imogen)
You've got to take these people (but most of them aren't people; even those who do not turn into monsters on a regular basis barely qualify; their minds somehow wired differently, their blood of a different stock) at face value, their moods and their tones. Everything is nearly decided by the phase of the moon.Full and pregnant, tension spills out the edges, mixing with marijuana smoke and coarse words. Half moon, and the mood is ambiguous. One way or the other, someone could rage. Or it could be nothing at all. The moon darkness can bring the strangest of times. Absolute silence, only Dire and Carmen breaking it with speech for now, fries passed around. The cold worn surface of the zippo slides between the fingers of one hand as she takes a few fries when offered. A smirk, and the fries lifted in a half salute, some sort of wordless thanks.
There are days when she recalls she's rarely eaten, and maybe this is one of those times as she swallows one of the cooling fries, the zippo carrying hand sliding into her pocket once more, perhaps looking for the partnering cigarettes.
(james)
"Anytime, Carmen."smiled, nice and easy
(he means it, too)
a part of it's the lack of moon in the sky
there's a lot of Rage gathered, here
enough to wilt the blooming flowers in the planter yonder if the phase were just a little different
but right now the majority of it's mellowed out - it's a good thing, really
it just.... feels.... good
sure, there's a hunt on the horizon and blood on the distant breeze
but that's tomorrow and a mile from here
he never banks on either as a guanrantee, just focusing on now
and now? now is good. now is fries. now is pack
there's only a few fries left in the bottom of the little carton
and that's silently held out to the Modi without a second thoughthe'd ask how the kid has been, out of politeness
but from the way the storms are still broiling in her eyes
well..... funny thing when a four year old seems to have more angst than the resident, present Garou
by the time Imogen's searching for the partner to her lighter
his other hand's holding out a pack of Camels, silently
(others need, a Hood provides)(dire)
He smiles and sits as well. Setteling Carmen in his lap. He takes what evers offered. Looks at the fish sandwich and opens it up scraping off the chuncky Jiz as the Slakd so elloquently puts it and puts it back together with a grin to take a bite.
He smiles gently smoothing her hair and looking around "What'd you do with the knife?"
Just checking least she get fiesty again and deside to stab a booger breath(carmen)
That gets a lil bit of a smile, and by the end of the fries in hand it’s even brighter, setting in daddy’s lap her legs even stop their killer swing and she waves a lil to decker “hiya deckah…. And Mis’Imagine…” ooooooh. Brief return of stormclouds… before admitting “puts it backs in yur jacket pocket daddy… but she was gonna toss baby’Manda in da GARBAGE.. just cuz we gots dirty playin outside and she gots mad cus I didn’t wanna take no bath yet! She’s stupid! I hate her! And I been tryin likes mis’Rune asked, I’ave! been GOOD too! eber since Easter.. and dats a LONG time… she taked my candy away for a while too but she didn’t get these.” And that grin turns smug. Miss’Imagine digs for her cig’rettes, and Misser James give her his, and she digs out her own pack from a pocket, a perfect lil imitation (well, to Her is perfect!) of Mis’Rune’s pinkpinkpink cig’rettes is pulled out and propped ‘tween fingers careful like. “miss’Rune gived em to me – she cant’s have em.”(decker)
A shake of his head for the last few fries. Ate already. Anemic pancakes and whatnot. Not too hungry. Now the smokes were breaking out, but Decker holds off on that for a while, too.There's a hunt on the horizon. Blood on the distant breeze. Thunder coming in the sky and rage waxing again with the moon. It's all right, it's all good with James, but Decker's made of more impatient stuff. Moreso than that, he's made of stuff that won't let him rest when certain matters are concerned.
A vague nod up at the kid saying hi from the other end of the bench. Decker's fingers close on a few blades of grass. He yanks them up without looking and lets them scatter, windblown, across the pavement. Another fistful, and a third, before his fingers dust themselves clean. He looks up. Holds his hand out to Imogen. It could be invitation or proposition, or -
"Bum a drag?" - just a simple request.
(imogen)
"'Lo, Carmen," absent answer, absent commentary as she glances down at the child.Her hand wipes, free of fries now, across the thigh of her jeans, before reaching out to take the offered cigarettes from James. "Ta." Truncated british politeness. Cigarette tapped out, cigarette lit, as she glances down toward Carmen and her pink candy cigarette (monkey see, monkey do). A smirk half caught between amusement and a frown, as she lights up (she cannot, after all, say anything, offering the cigarette packet back to the Hood, complete with lighter, an arch of her brow in question.
Whether he needs the lighter or not, she takes a drag on the cigarette, smoke into lungs. Movement catches her eyes, briefly, Decker extending his hand. A simple request. She pulls the cigarette from her mouth before exhaling, a slow breath, arm extending to offer him the cigarette, held loosely between her fingers.
(james)
the fries refused, he offers them next to Carmen
(always did have a soft spot for kids)
and once they're taken, his hands are reaching for the re-offered pack
somewhere in this symphony of constant, silent movement there's a nod
you're welcome, thank you, hello, goodbye, s'up - the simple movement of head counts for everything in this pack
this time it's her zippo CLACKing open and fwoooshing cherry to life
snapped closed and handed back, the other hand repocketing the Camelsthat's about when Carmen's prattling sinks in
(miss Rune give'd em to me)
and dark eyes bolt upwards
strippa pink candy cigarettes
he almost chokes on that first drag
quietly laughingyeh, he's mellow, it's all copacetic - it's all a fuckin' act
(there's something killing kin on their territory and the detonator's about to blow)(decker)
Camels go from James. to Imogen. to Decker.Who takes a drag, grimaces, and hands it back. Hated those fuckin shits. Never seemed to remember that before he took a drag. After she takes it back, he swings his legs off the bench all together and sits straight for a moment before slouching down a few inches. Getting comfortable again.
"Fuck you doin' out here so late?" Hell, what were any of them doing out here so late?
(dire)
He nods to Carmen
"My pup wanted to kill the kin... So I'm taking her to cool down. Seemed prudent."(decker)
A glance tossed at Dire. His lips twitch, but it's not a smile, not a smirk, and nothing close to either. "Maybe y'oughta teach yer pup not to kill kin sooner 'r later. 'Specially if she might Change someday."(carmen)
James starts to choke and eyes go wide and she squirms down and moves to pat him on da back likes she hadta do to Miss’rune when she talked about macnbunnycheese… still dunno why, but it’s always made better as evidence by the laughter afterwards from Misser’james and she takes a seat next to him and offers her ‘smoke’ with a bright grin.. “wanna drag?” ooooooh that made dat stoopid kin mad when she offered it to her. Dunno WHY but dats the first time she tried to take’em away. “you likes my hair? Mis’Eva did it for me… now it kinda looks like yours only prettier..” reaches and tugs on a dred lightly, giggling(dire)
He grunts and looks at carmen "Don't kill kin."(imogen)
A brief smirk at the Fenrir's grimace as she takes the cigarette back, an eyebrow arching, slightly. She doesn't actually say it, but the implicit amusement is clear, if brief."Good lesson," she notes around the filter of her cigarette, though whether or not she means the actual idea behind the lesson (kinfolk perhaps do not like the idea of being killed) or the dubious method that Dire has employed, is anyone's guess.
(james)
"Thank you Carmen"still laughing softly as she "saves" him from choking
then his head shakes, heavy mane of dreads wiggling a bit over the swell of shoulders beneath black cotton"No thank you." accompanied by a lopsided grin "Because I couldn't offer you a drag of mine in return, and that would just be rude."
note he's holding his Camel in a way the smoke is caught by the errant night's breeze and blown away from the child
she's tugging on one of his dreads and he's reaching to flip a braid from right to left and straighten the "part"
there's only a skimming glance towards her, he doesn't really meet her eyes
(would she see the unhinged creature lurking behind them?)"Lots prettier, honestly. Mine are kinda scraggly."
(decker)
"Some fuckin' lesson," snorts Decker, somewhere between disgusted and amused. His hands slide into his hip pockets, the sag of the pants leaning his palms somewhere atop his upper quads instead. He nods up to Imogen - "So hell you doin' out here?" - stubborn with his questions, when he had them.(dire)
He watches them and shrugs at their crutique of his parenting skills. To his knowledge she's never done something he told her not to do. So she probly won't do this. She's a smart kid. Besides. Dire has taught here there is a long way between maim and kill.(carmen)
“Yes daddy, promise.” Long way tween hurt and sleeps an not wakin ups… but she don’t thinks bout that cuz makes her think of momma and then she leaks a lil and she don’t wanna leak.. so!
She giggles and shakes her head and whispers “its really candy yannow… and you gived me fries so I still owes ya one. Maybe when we makes Macnbunny cheese for Mis’Rune you kin have some too, huh?” She beams as he approves her hair and even fixes a lil bit of it and if she sees any creatures inside it’s just what she’s gettin used to seein an all cuz daddy looks all… mean sometimes too but it’s nots her fault she learned dat a long times ago.. “I likes em… s’lots cooler too and Mis’Eva promised she’d helps me pierce my ears when I gots bigger too. I ain’ts seed you in forEVer… wanted ta talks to you last time but you was sleepin…”
(james)
if she sees something, maybe it's normal
maybe it's the animal that no matter how human they look will never go away
maybe it's something darker, something heartless and bloodthirsty for vengance that's been festering far longer than the days since blood spilled a mile away
something children shouldn't ever see, no matter their bloodlines or destiny
but it doesn't matter
in another blink it's pushed away again
he doesn't even make an expression to show what he thinks of the parenting lesson
he's not the parent, so who is he to argue?
all that's there is that soft, soft smile"Macbunny cheese, huh? Sounds adventurous." then his head tilts "What'd you want to talk to me about?"
(imogen)
"I'm assuming," dryly, "the answer 'smoking' wouldn't be enough." Another drag on the cigarette, ember eating away at paper and inhaling nicotine laced tobacco with long practice.Her attention drifts briefly toward Carmen as she speaks, a spout of childish questions and strains of sentences that link together somehow, in some vague way. "It seemed better than stayin' inside, in either case," a final completion of the vague answer to his question.
(dire)
He nods to the Macbunnycheese thing "It's good too."(carmen)
She giggles and and nods.. “Is really good! Daddy teached me how to makes it da first night I we was in da cabin in da woods… an I catch bunnies all myself – or did when we was out dere cuz I know how t’snares real good..” giggles again “jus ask dat kin. Daddy taughts me dat too..” She bites a bit off of her ‘smoke’ and chews it a minute or two before she swallows n answers. “Well. I was real mads at you for a while, but thoughts that I should say I sorry since I not mad anymore. Daddy says its good t’say yur sorry when ya was mad for no reason an I hads a reason but I guess I was kinda wrong bout it and shouldn’t been mad ats you an’miss’Rune, not anyone really but I jus wanted ya ta know I wasn’t mad no more and I hopes you not mad at me neither…”(decker)
Maybe it's the child prattling. A moment passes; he lets Imogen's answer hang in the air. Then he gets up. His weight leaving the bench echoes up and down the steel framework. He doesn't speak to his packmates; doesn't need to. They didn't need a hello, so it's natural, somehow, that they wouldn't need a goodbye.Anyway they'll always be able to feel him. Know where he is if they reached out with their minds. Speak into his mind, if he leaves the channel open. And he does.
A few steps away without a word. A turn back. Nod toward Imogen, her and her flamekissed hair. Or rather, a nod directed toward her, but the tilt of his head indicates the path. "Walk a l'il?"
(james)
there's a nod, approving"It's never bad to apologize when you think you should." one final drag before his own smoke is flicked away into an errant puddle from the sprinklers "What were you mad about?"
(dire)
He watches and grins at Carmens speach and what she's saying. He chuckels knowing this should be good(imogen)
The child speaking fills the air with void noises, words that she isn't really listening to, because Carmen is speaking to James, and at the best of times she can't follow the thread of speech from a four year old (almost five!).Smoke curls from her mouth as she exhales, and her head turns back toward Decker, his tilt of his head his question. A brief consideration, perhaps the time, perhaps the lack of the moon, or the child and two packmates. Perhaps the houseguest who is, presumeably sleeping right about now.
A faint tilt of a nod (she doesn't have that nod-up the rest of the pack has, she has her own gestures. The closest she gets is a lift of her chin in gesture, and that is not this), "Yeah." Simple agreement as she steps away toward the other bench and it's garbage receptacle. Cigarette ground against the rim before the stub falls from her fingers into the can.
(carmen)
She takes another bite of her ‘smoke’ afoer she answers, looking back at daddy t’make sure he sees she’s bein good still, and she ‘pologized likes she said she would.. an she resituates baby’manda in her lap and leans over a little, finger drawin in the dirt absently.. “well.” Chews the candy an swallows.. “see. I knew daddy dinna wants dat silly kin, n I didn wan’er, and he saids da pack did it.. an I gots really mad cuz I thoughts you n’miss Rune liked me more’n’dat… Deckah’s a meany booger breath anyway and so’s I didn’t care ifs he said so.. but I didn’likes dat you n miss’rune ‘cided something so’s important likes dat withouts me getting a say. I’s only 4 I know but I’s smart… n’no one asked me nuffin. N’shes so stupids and keeps tryin ta be my momma and ain’ts no one my momma and if’s I had ta have a new momma I’d wanner to be jus’likes Mis’Rune…” trails off a little into a shrug…(james)
throughout her little prattling tirade
the Gnawer listens with full attention
a part of him wanting to fall back into the grass, feet kicking into the air, screaming with laughter at the thought of Rune being a 'mom'
there's also a part of him inside that just.... melts (and aches)
but it's all hidden away from the child just like the demons that are screaming behind deep umber"What'd Dire tell you about why we did that."
(decker)
There's no response to her nod. No smile, no arm held out to slide around her shoulders. His hands stay in his pockets, where they'd been even while he stood. His response doesn't come in words or gestures, but in action.He falls in beside her, flanking her easily and thoughtlessly. Moonless walk in a green belt at 3, almost 4 in the morning: god knows what this is supposed to mean, accomplish, be, prove.
The last of the stars are fading behind the clouds coming in. He raises his head and looks at them for a moment. He might be able to smell the impending storm if he were in his wolf form, but tonight he wears his wolf inside. The sounds of the pack drop away behind them. He makes no attempt to fill the void. Crickets and wind form the large part of the sounds of the night. Somewhere past a bend in the path, but still easily visible to the pack in the distance over the gently rolling, carefully tended green slopes of the belt, he slows his pace a notch and turns to look at her.
The hint of rage. The hint of what violence could be, if only...; the hint of a frown furrowing a line between his eyebrows; the straight unforgiving line of his mouth.
A moment passes. Then that line of this mouth relents a notch, though the line between his brow doesn't fade. Curves up at one edge. He (as much as he ever does; as much as he ever could) smiles at her. Slight and brief. Nothing more, nothing less. And he says nothing.
A moment later he looks back at the path he walks, and keeps walking.
(dire)
He looks over and tilts his head(carmen)
Misser James gives her attention and she doesn’t look up quite at him much but the question gets a furrowed brow, fingers pausing in the little drag through dirt and grass before startin again and there’s another shrug.. “You guys gotsta fights da war. I knows dat. I knows I can’ts be here all da times and stuffs and ya was all skeered I’d be hurts or sumpin… but daddy takes good careame, and I likes stayin with miss’Danni, but can’ts stay wif her much no more and dis kin… I just don’t likes her. She said she was m’new mommy and she AINT NEVER gonna be dat. I been good doh, and ain’ts been comin over much even if I miss you n mis’Rune sumpin awful sometimes…”(james)
"There's a lot of things around us that can hurt you, Carmen." he doesn't quite go into what they are "But you had every right to be angry, because you're right, we made the decision without letting you have any say in what was happening to your life."there's a bit of a sigh
(how. much. he. hurts.)
gaze strafing over towards Dire, a moment
then it swings back to the little girl
(jaw moves to tighten, then forcibly relax)"We didn't mean to make you angry, or hurt you.... and.... the last thing I ever want to do is split a family apart. But I'd rather have you in a safe place and pissed off at me than in a place you're happy and in danger for any reason. If something bad happened none of us would ever be able to see you again. I don't want to miss you in that way."
(carmen)
She hears the sigh, and she listens, and shoulders hunch into a shrug, then relax again and there’s a soft sigh in return. “I know things don’ts always work right.. n’if anythin’ happened to you or Mis’Rune I’d be awfully sad too… n I knows ya jus wan me t’be safe.. but I ain’ts pis….” Grins up at him “mad atcha no more anyway…” a tip of head and a long study with darker den dark eyes an she just leans against him, tuckin her head against his shoulder an sliding her arm though his, squeezin a lil “sumpin’s makin ya sad an I don’wants ya t’be sad. Kin I helps makes it better?”(james)
his arm loops with hers without even a second thought
easily snugging the child closer
her lean getting a soft smile to drift across his features
then another sigh heaves"I'm.... yeh, I'm sad. Some things that are happening now are making me think a lot about the past. That's all."
(carmen)
There’s a lil nod… and she looks up at him, before just snuggling close. “I gets sads sometimes like that too.. n’my daddy said s’ok to leak a lil when I do.. I miss momma sometimes real bad.. s’why I gets mad at Carrie so much. She keeps tryin t’get me t’call her momma and she just ain’t.” a pause in thought.. and then softly… “My momma was sad lots too… den I’d finds her an’ we’d have cocoa and watch old movies on da tv and fall sleep t’gether on da couch.. dose were da bestest times I thinks… an sometimes I thinks I mights forget her, and I ain’t ever wanna do that… and dat makes me sad… even ifs memberin her makes me kinda sads too… you memberin someone? maybes.. maybes I should makes ya some cocoa…. I makes good cocoa..”(james)
he listens again, quietly
she may be a little kin (so they think) and he may be a big warrior Ahroun
but that doesn't mean diddly when it comes to respectfully listening
slowly nodding at the end"Yeh, I'm remembering someone. Her name was Jenna, and she was very special to me."
that isn't everything, really
the death of the kin hits close to home, but there's more
(just that line about how she'd want Rune to be her mommy)
though, as with any Gnawer, he's easily placated with the promise of food
.... drink
maybe he just doesn't want to dwell anymore tonight"Though I think." he's stretching to stand, strong hands suddenly moving her with him, swoooooping the little girl up off the ground to settle in ride on his shoulders "No matter what the reason, I would not pass up an offer for cocoa. I refuse to let you go home tonight without making me some."
there's a nod up and glance to the Skald (c'mon) and long legs already move towards Rune's condo
"You think Miss Rune would have stuff inside that you could use for it?"
(carmen)
Posted by james at April 30, 2003 12:00 AM
There’s a slow nod, and a cuddle closer at that.. afore he stands and she looks up (and up and up and up – but nots as far as has ta look up ta daddy) and he reaches and swooooops her up and she Squeels with delight, clutchin baby’Manda close and settling her carefully while holdin on ta Misser James with a thrilled giggle, waving daddy to join em and nodding vigorously in a tumble of braids around dark eyes.. “I knows she does… cuz she gotted some fo’me afore da last time I visited.. it’s in da cubbard next to da stove with all da spices n stuff… and she even gotted marshmallows! Dey’s hidin in da back doh so’s Deckah don’ts find em..” giggled as leans down, foldin lil body in half and whispering “maybe yur Jenna’s helping takes care of my Momma… and dey won’ts want us t’be sads forever… so’s we’ll have cocoa and be happys for a lil while, kay?” a kiss MWAH’d somewhere in tangled dreds, and then she’s giggling “giddyup!” as they, n daddy too, head into the condo.
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