July 10, 2003.07.10.03. - another Fenrir? [decker-imogen-kemp][noje]
(everything before in decker's journal somewhere)
(kemp oats)
"Listen, I didn't touch nothing, I didn't take a piss on anyone's tires, and I ain't that kind of guy, so whatever it is, I'm sorry I did it and next time I'll try to make it a nice night out too. Okay?" *Hands held up while backing up, each word spilling out just increasing his back peddaling.* "You Tarzan, she Jane." *Jerking a finger towards Imogen.* "Me Cheetah shit and outta here."(decker)
Decker follows another halfhearted step, and another, and then stops. His hand goes back to his neck. He lowers his head and pops his vertebrae, looking for all the world like he's decided fuckitall, he's going back home. If that's his home up there in the posh condos, the likes of which the likes of him couldn't afford in a million years. Decker drops his hand after a moment. He looks up from under his eyebrows, which are straight, low, and a darker blond than the fuzz of his hair. For a second Kemp could swear he's smirking crookedly.And then--
(Remember that stuff about sagging, running, and how Decker wears his pants lowslung, but not so low that he'd trip and fall on his face if he started running? This is where it comes in.)
--then the Fenrir explodes into motion, coursing like a hellhound after Kemp and his unfortunately giveaway purebreeding. It's a reaction typical for the tribe. Can't talk them into something? Muscle them into it. Body over mind. Action over thought.
(...run yer ass down.)
(james)
the dreadlocks are usually the first things someone notices
thick ropes that hang down over his shoulders and tickle the bottoms of the blades
it's either that, or the long lopey strides that seem to cover the miles with ease
though tonight, with his full belly under the filling moon, it may be the exotic scent that washes out in wake just before the ever-present sphere of RageTake out. Thai. Goooooood
at least they'd notice if any where looking this way
one arm, tanned golden by the summer sun, has fingers hooked in the bag slung over his shoulder
the other is busy in removing the joint that's been nestled pleasently between his teeth for the last half of the trek through the complex, flicking ash onto the grass
and a brow most certainly lifts and what's looking to become a rather impromptu game of tackle football on his front lawn with the Modi charging some.... kid.... should be interesting
(kemp)
*He had been back pedaling to start with. The motion picking up when Decker starts to run towards him. Surprise and maybe a good healthy dose of fear showing on the young face for that split second when backpeddaling became a forward lurch and dive to the pavement. Hitting the pavement hard enough to drive the breath from him and splash water from the cement to the sides. Trying to slide and not shred his belly open. That danger of the moon showing, well it was happening. Those loose jeans sliding down far enough to bring a groan when flesh met cement.*(decker)
Since Kemp hits the ground, catching up is easy. Six or twelve long strides and he's bearing down on the cub. No time or room for deceleration. Decker simply swoops down, grabs Kemp by the belt and the collar, and drags him quite literally another yard or two before hitting the brakes and hauling Kemp up to his feet, nose to nose, eye to eye."Never," quiet, steely, and barely winded: the pause is there for emphasis, "run away."
Call it lesson one. Then he turns Kemp around and starts marching him back toward the condos, one hand still on the back of his neck.
(kemp)
*Voice still changing and that became evident with the almost girlish high pitched yelp coming from him when snatched up rather than achieving his goal which in some little corner of his mind was suppose to work more like a Jet Li move and send him sliding between Decker's legs and out the otherside to safety. So much for fantasy. Speaking of fantasy, where was this guy taking him? Sputtering out while flailing around like he might fly if he got the chance.* "Hey! Put me down! I ain't that kind of guy you perv! If you think you're gonna put that in there, you're fuckin nuts!" *Just the being turned around with his back to Decker was enough to make the kid think this guy was a homocidal homo.*(james)
the kid hits the ground
Decker drags and heaves and growls
then the kid starts holleringoh. this. is. just. great.
like the neighbors don't already have enough reason to want them out of the complex
(they just don't dare bring it up)
though he can't help but quirk an almost non-existant grin at what the kid's yowling
(Decker..... HA!)
so, taking another course of action
his own strides quicken a bit
(chin lifts a bit seeing the kin stand)
and he's closing in on his packmate and shreiking boy(decker)
"MOVE, cub." Teeth are clenched. Hand is clamped firm, but that doesn't mean Kemp can't still flap his arms and legs quite a bit and throw his elbows around. Decker's about this close to losing it. Where the fuck is James when you need him? Oh, that's right: halfway across the parking lot. Speeding up now, at least.They're heading for the stairs now. Not Imogen's, but the ones next door. Rune's condominium, though Kemp has no way of knowing this, nor who Rune might possibly be. Decker shoots Imogen a single glance as they pass under her balcony, somewhere between annoyed and exasperated and pissed off and frustrated and all of the above.
(kemp)
*He'd gone from losing his pants to getting them wedged up between his butt cheeks. At least with his pants shoved up his ass, nothing else was getting in there. Lanky or thin, either would fit him. Maybe 5'3" or 5'5", not much over 100 lbs all told, wet cloths and all. Latching onto the railing with hands and feet almost as if part monkey. Legs splaying out to hook those feet in the rungs and his hands clawing for purchase, trying to put on the brakes and making a big ruckus.* "RAPE! Someone help me!" *Panic starting to rise to an almost uncontrollable level the closer to the door they got.*(imogen)
She's isn't paying much attention to the Garou anymore. Instead, she's turned her head to look at one of the neighbouring condominiums, where the front porch light's turned on, and so has the living room light.If you listen -really- really hard, over the kid's yelling, you can hear someone else yelling inside.
Damned neighbours. Fucking potheads, partiers. The hell... the commitee will hear of this.
Imogen cannot hear much more than a dull mumble, though perhaps one of the Garou can hear more. She doesn't care what they say, however. She only cares if they open the door.
A brief glance toward Decker, silent, and then toward the kid as he makes life just that much harder.
The kid starts screaming rape. In another situation, this would be perhaps funny, as it is, however... "Christ, shove a sock in his mouth, or something." Muttered, undirected, really, as she steps off the stairs now, beginning down them. Not following the Garou, so much as turning her head toward the stirring condominium.
(kemp)
*The cuff to the head shut him up for a second or two while his head rang and stars flickered before his eyes. A shake of his head sending rain flying from it.* "Oh, oh, I see, you're a pervert and you like to be rough too!" *One thing was for certain, his mouth had a way of digging deeper holes for him.Crawling at the railing with those legs jutted out like some wild monkey trying to keep from going up the stairs.*(james)
they're heading for the stairs of Rune's balcony
by the time the kid's latching on like a spider monkey, he's only a few feet away
(and if you think he didn't pick up on how close his packmate was to losing it....)"Offering your ball-gag?"
quipped at the kin as he's trotting by
because he is really amused
though it's not showing entirely because then he'd get his ass beat
then, since, well, they are blocking the stairs, plastic bag of food is set down on the wet grass
he's moved around to the side, reaching over the railing and grabbing the kid's jaw in one calloused hand
forcing the cub (.... pure bred? well fancy that...) to look at him"You know, spread out like a flying squirrel isn't putting you in the best of positions." his voice is about as warm and smooth as his grip is strong, colored a bit by the accent that obviously places New York state as his home, dark brows lifting a bit over deep umber eyes "But if you stop struggling, I'm sure he'll let you go so you can walk on up the stairs and sit your ass down in one of those chairs, which makes it a lot harder to be violated."
nod up to the Modi
Give him a chance.
cause if the kid relaxes then there's no broken bones or dislocated railings when the Fenrir's strength (or temper) kicks in and he just drags Kemp right on up the stairs
he's tempted to add in the fact that Decker's so straight and narrow he probably wouldn't even touch himself
but that would guarantee the attention focusing on him, and his ass getting beat
so it's saved until later
the iron grip on Kemp's neck doesn't waver, but the directing pressure drops the most miniscule amount
five seconds of decision time bought
then they'll probably deal with broken bones and neighbors going so far as to open their doors on the nearing full(imogen)
"Should I use it on the kid, or the neighbours?" shot back, british tongued, silver tongued, somewhere caught between annoyed and probably some latent amusement that wouldn't quite show itself. This close to the full, it's not surprising. Her sense of humour is morbid and difficult at the best of cases. But that was, at least, a quip.One hand brushes beneath her jacket to the small of her back, before falling away as she flicks her attention up toward the offending, active condo and then about then. It's only the one condominium that has begun to stir, however. Maybe they're new and not quite acquainted with the boneshaking fear the Garou can inspire.
She isn't wandering up, as her shoes echo faintly against the pavement, stopping at some undefined point. However, chances are, she must have a plan, should the door open.
(decker)
James is amused. Imogen is somewhat amused. Decker is not, and getting even less so. Then again, he's the one that's getting flailed upon and kicked and shouted at. And he doubts the talk of ball-gags was going to help matters.Yeah. If he quits freakin' out, fired back across the totemphone. Decker's grip doesn't loosen the slightest bit though he does, at the least, stop pushing Kemp up the stairs.
(kemp)
*Starting to actually listen to someone with James' grab and words. Not entirely sure why or who this guy was. Suddenly going limp and letting go of the death hold. Though mention of a ball made him worry. Was he going to put his ball in his mouth? Holy fuck! Clamping his mouth shut tight just in case cause that was just plain sick.*(imogen)
And sudden. Blessed. Silence. Her head turns to glance toward the balcony, as if to assure herself that either no one has killed the kid, and that no one has really gagged him. Finding that neither have happened, she turns her attention back toward the condominium, fingers pushing back dampened hair that is progressively getting damper.It's not raining hard. But it is raining still.
(james)
That is my goal, Decker.
shot back just as easily through the totemphone
though his attention doesn't seem to exactly waver from the cub"Allright then." that's when the Gnawer offers a grin from within frame of heavy dreads weighted by the rain, letting go and draping his arm over the railing, fingers flicking to wave towards the balcony "Go on."
with Decker behind him and James off the side
not an option to try running again(decker)
Go figure. The kid stopped freaking out. That's why James - Fostern Ahroun, past-haunted James - is the PR man for the pack. Makes you wonder what the rest of the pack is like.One scarred fanatic, male, Fenrir.
One viiiicious-sexy technophilic citywolf, female, Walker.
One teenaged homicidal hormone-crazy punk rocker, male, Fenrir.
Assorted hanger-on'ers and hopefuls.
And Decker.Yeah, they were well-adjusted. James is by far the best of them. Decker lets the kid go like he'd been waiting to wash his hands of the mess since the beginning. Which is to say, he lets go so fast Kemp might fall if his reflexes weren't quick. Decker takes a step or two down the stairs, wiping his palms on his shirt.
A nod up at the kid. "Fenrir cub. 'll talk to 'im if ya git him calmed down. Otherwise Luc 'r Erik kin do it."
(kemp)
*As soon as he was released he was pounding up the stairs. He didn't know what the big skin head pervert wanted and he really didn't want to find out. All he knew as the sumbitch jumped him and wanted to butt fuck him. And he was going to find a way out of this even if he had to leap over the railing and land on his damned head.*(james)
Fenrir cub. Peachy.
as if he isn't surrounded by enough freakin' Fenrir
though there's only a half grin response along with the nod
long body bends to sweep up the bag of Thai
just as Kemp's bolting up the stairs, he's not far behind
the hand with the joint is pointing towards a chair that put's the kid's back to the corner"Sit."
easy going and as well-adjusted as the Gnawer is compared to the rest of the pack
(and that is a scarey thing)
there's something about him that recommends Kemp do as he is told
though in the gesture he notices the joint has fizzled out because of the rain
and a breif frown accompanies the stretch to place it carefully on the edge of the table to dry
soon paired up with the rustling bag of food set to block it from any wind which would dislodge it tumbling towards the tiling
(SIN!)
boot hooks into another chair, and he takes a seat in direct line between the cub and the stairs
only way out is over the railing - and the Modi's down there circling like a shark"First, he's not going to rape you. That is the least of your worries. Second, calm down, all he or I want to do is talk to you - and he's the last person you want to piss off by continuing to freak." something about his wry grin says the Gnawer knows too much about not pissing Decker off "Third.... name's James. Got something I can call you by other than Flying Squirrel?"
(imogen)
Silence from Kemp. Silence from the Garou, relatively. The porch light remains on, but the living room light, visible through veneer blinds, suddenly turns off.The slender woman (she's over five feet, but hardly), turns and begins to walk back down the path, back toward a set of stairs. Not Rune's, but her own, apparently not opting to join the pow-wow of rage.
(kemp)
*Stumbling back to land on his butt and almost coming up again. He was still thinking about a mad suicidal charge through the two of them.* "Listen, I didn't do nothing. He's the one that owns the world, not me! And, and he's the one that jumped me! I didn't do anything!"(james)
there's a wry grin in response to that"Never run from a predator, kid."
out comes a pack of Camel longs from a cargo pocket
battered black Zippo is soon to follow
lighting up with the trademark snapCLACK
and he holds both out in offer towards Kemp"Which would mean going with that escape plan is a bad idea with both he and I involved. We don't own the world, just a nice parsel of land in the state. He tells me you're a cub, any idea what he means?"
(kemp)
"Yeah he means his nuckin futs and I don't smoke, didn't you learn anything in school?" *Bad dream, bad dream, just like the other one, only less bloody so far. Scrubbing at his face hard wtih both hands*(decker)
Circling like a shark...
...toward Imogen's stairs.At the bottom of her stairs he stops, one hand on either rail like it was now ingrained in him to bar off escape routes. "Imogen," he says. Doesn't call: says her name. Him and his molasses southern drawl; his quiet hard tone with just the hint of rasp at the edge. Him and his contradictions, in short.
And him and his new joint, which is getting rolled right this minute.
(james)
"Yeh, learned a lot of things in school. One school says you smoke and you die of cancer or something just as nasty. Another school says you and I will never have to worry about that."there's a beat or three there
just the time it takes for strong heart which will never sicken through conventional disease to pump three times"What've the dreams been about?"
by now he's leaned back, plastic chair molding to his spine
Kemp is certainly not the first cub he's dealt with
he knows that haunted, sleepless look too well(imogen)
Him and his contridictions.She's reached the top of the stairs by the time he's circled around, by the time James is offering a cigarette to the cub, and he's being refused, because, well, cigarettes are bad for you. They cause cancer. They kill you. Apparently someone had been paying attention in school. He doesn't raise his voice and while her hearing is no where near as good as some, it is certainly enough to hear that.
She turns, easily, to look at him, one hand sliding up to push back strands, fallen free and damp from her pony tail to cling to her cheekbones. Pushed away by habit, and pressed to cling behind her ears. "Yeah?"
(kemp)
*Lift his head to snap out.* "I don't know what you're talking about!" *Admitting anything was not something he was going to do easily, especially bad stuff. You admitted the bad stuff and it made it real. If you denied it, it was just some really badly fucked up nightmare that you'd wake up from.* "Can I go now?"(james)
"No."that single word falls with the force of a hammer
though his voice has never raised once"Because you know exactly what I'm talking about, I can see it in your eyes, I can feel it in your blood - just like you can feel something gnawing at your insides like a monster waiting to get out. It's as real as you don't want it to be, or we're all in one big nightmare. You can try to run away and pretend it's not happening until one day it suddenly kills you. Or you can sit there, stay calm while I call him back up up, and let us help you."
(Barny Jameson)
Trudging. What else is there? Another street. Seen plenty of those since he left the Sept of the hand of Gaia. He was asked to stay on. But fuck if he could take it. But here? not that far 'home' should he have to. besides. He heard there was some fighting pack here or something. those gnawers just mumble and mumble.But its worth looking into. No more of that touchy feely crap. Following the directions of Mother, he find himself in Hibernia. what a dump. but better then the endless park of the sept anyway. Looking to the streetsign, nodding to himself. Was the right street anyway. so he starts to walk along it.
The man coming into view soon, is quitee a large guy. nearly 6'4, and broad over thr shoulders. A rough n cut face, framed by red-brown hair ontop, and a nasty looking scar running over his throat. Green eyes set deep in his face. He aint no pretty boi. A bag slung over his shoulders as he moves slowly down the street. The warmth have him dressed in Jeans (blue, washed) and a black wifebeater.
(kemp)
*Oh shit, he was going to bring the skin headed pervert up?* "Ok, I'm listening, but can't you just leave him somewhere's else?" *Part of him wanted to kick the crap out of Decker while another part just wanted to get out of his reach for fear he'd pull his head off and shove it up his butt.*(james)
there's something in the way the Gnawer laughs
he's.... probably thought or asked that same question once or twice
but he doesn't say it because he's also well aware of how good the Modi's hearing is"That's another no.... because he's your tribe, I'm not, so even though I'm sure I'm going to be the one that does most of the explaining... by all rights and purposes he should be involved."
that drifts off, seeing if the kid catches the "tribe" comment
(decker)
It's hard to imagine what the hell it is they built a relationship on. Their silences are vast, chasms of no-sound. The distance between may as well be a light-year.His hands unwrap from the railings slowly. He straightens. Then he starts up the stairs, one at a time, cub next door be damned. James could handle it. James was all grown up now, and so was he. The distance shrinks to nothing. He tops the final step and gives his back to those on Rune's balcony. He's larger than her. He blocks her from their sight, and himself as well, which cannot be an accident because he puts his hand on her cheek - the once-bruised one - and pulls her forward. He's notoriously insular about his private life. About her.
"Nothin'," he says, and kisses her brief and fierce, like a war. And after, "Go fer a ride with me later?"
(kemp)
"Tribe?" *Ok so this guy was as crazy as the other one, only this one didn't want to make sweet love to his butt. At least he hoped not.* "Listen, you might be playing cowboys and indians, but I'm just trying to get by ok? So, if you could find it in your headdress to let me out of here, I'll send you a smoke signal or something on mother's day."(james)
"If Mother's Day wasn't several months from now, I might just trust that you won't run and hide and then we'll find you dead or worse someday."the grin is still there, easy going and .... kind
quite the contrast to the skinhead on the balcony next door
seems that James is, quite honestly, a nice guy
(too damned nice for his own good)"It may seem like a child's game to you." the near-filtered cigarette is flicked towards the proximity of the coffeecan that served as an ashtray, because it's a sure bet he misses "But why do you think you're having the dreams or that I know about them, probably even what they're about, if it wasn't real? I went through it, too. You may not smoke, but do you eat?" dreads drag on shoulders of wet shirt, nodding towards the bag "Come inside, listen to what I have to say for another hour, and if you don't believe me after that, you can tell me to fuck off and be on your way."
(barny)
And there. Those two houses, and the ones infront of the houses. A bit off still, but there is no mistaking it, is there? Even if Mother hadnt told him the adress, he couldnt really have missed it. not with all of that. So turning his steps, he crosses the street slowly, looking from one house to the other. But the number matches only one of the houses. So he stops by the hedge, looking to the pair on the porch, and waits. He doesnt make a sound however, to introduce himself.(kemp)
*Looking towards the bag for a moment unable to hold in the urge to swallow.* "Well ok, but only if no one comes near my butt."(james)
there's a glance strafing off the balcony
catching the figure by the hedge
that's followed quickly by nothing more than an impression across the back of his packmate's mind
since the cub was pawned off on him
Decker can take care of the newcomer
though he can't help but laugh"Don't think you'll have to worry about that.... you're not exactly my type."
with that, the tall Gnawer unfolds from the seat, grabs the bag, and heads inside
(kemp)
*Taking a look towards the escape route with a frown. He had given his word sorta, that he would listen. And there was the added lure of food. He was always hungry. Scowling and following James. Muttering while hiking his jeans up some.* "Good cause you ain't exactly my kind either."(barny)
Posted by james at July 10, 2003 12:00 AM
He watches them move in. A shrug. they must bhe busy with something. he could see the man's looks. He has been... Acknowledged? perhaps. but not invited yet. So for the moment, he stands, and just waits. one hand slipping down to finger the pocket of his jeans, aching to reach for that thing inside. But not now. not yet.
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