January 21, 2004.01.21.04. - so you're the one [barny-kemp-hamish][riverfront]
(barny)
Riverfront. Again. If this keeps up much longer, he is sure to need a new pait of boots. Well, a good thing is that he has gotten a pretty clear image of the city layout. Thats good. But it hasnt put the mute CoG in a very good mood. Its been days since he had a good fight, and the lack of exercise is wearing on him. Luckily, the moon is waning towards new moon, and his rage is as low as it ever gets. Which means people passing him on the street shudder without knowing why. As tall as ever, without the boots he stands a massive 6'7 of muscle and attitude. with the boots, its almost 6'8. Again, those 20 hole docs pound the concrete as he walks on, hands stuffed deep in jacket pockets to avoid tthe worst of the freezing cold.(james)
the weather is supposed to be 36 degress
that is a whole four degrees above freezing
normally, that should mean something to someone somewhere who cared
but even beneath the partially clouded sliver of a moon in the sky
levels of birthright fires held at a low simmer rather than frying his brain
one Gnawer assesses the night as bordering on ridiculously unbearabledreads hang in a thick mane insulating his neck
held in place by one strategically tied grey bandana tucked into a wool cap
shoulders hunch in vain attempt to bolster the warmth contained in the tattered trench
body curves into a strange letter that fits in perch on the bench
sitting on the back, secondhand boots firm on the seat
coattails hanging in unique disarray reaching for the cement sidewalk below
hands wrapped around the large cup of fresh coffee already half drunk
fragrant steam weaving upwards to mix with the smoke from the Camel clenched between his teethimpatience to consume the piping hot beverage about the only reason he can define as to why on Gaia's green earth he is still sitting out in the all but freezing night instead of heading back to the warehouse shelter
(barny)
Moving steadily along in that pace that has swallowed just about every street in this city for the past two weeks, he is once again back at Riverfront. He found the warehouse,mostly by chance when he was walking before, finding a kin he recognised, even if he does not know her name. and now? he is back. The pack should be around at some point, right? Perhaps it is his preoccupation and quite sour mood, perhaps something else, but he almost misses the figure on thebench as he rounds a corner, fishing for his smokes in his pocket. Looking up to light his smoke, he comes to a halt, eyes narrowing slightly. that figure on the bench. yeah, he should recognise him, he has held him in his arms at one point. The smoke all but forgotten, he starts moving again, this time with intent, and purpose. And james finds himself with 300 pounds of muscle bearing down on him.(james)
movement infringing on his periphery is all that drags the Ahroun's attention from his coffee
deep umber eyes strafe from wherever they lay unfocused and to his left
calmy and silently studying the hulking figure that approaches
noting each detail that filters through the constantly shifting curtain of smoke and steam
something tugging at memory but never quite strong enough to complete the pull
perhaps it is the unique scent carried on the wind, or the reserved coil of presence
a culmination of details and impressions that roam just beyond clarification
an unconscous recollection this man approaching is the Garou that saved his lifethe struggle to pull things together is apparent in dark eyes
as is the resulting defeat when thoughts refuse to organize and surface
he never saw Barney before they entered the store
when they faced again it was too late to establish familiarity
by the time the Gnawer regained consciousness, the Coggie was already gonehand lifts to pull the smoke from between his lips, ashes flicked away
chin lifts in greeting's substitution(barny)
James greets him. It brings the slightest twitch of lips upwards in some form of smile beforehe reaches the bench, and with a nice thud, he climbs up, turning adeptly, and takes a seat next to James on the bench. it groans a little at the sudden onslaught of weight, but holds. Loking to james, Barny extends his hand out towards the city, then shakes his head, as if saying 'finally' before he sighs, and actually lifts one leg to lay it across the knee of the other, and with a smirk, he rubs his calfs. Its been a taxing two weeks.(james)
the Ahroun offered a greeting, yes, it is a matter of social accord and interaction
however he didn't expect the large man to instantly join him on the bench
that certainly gets a lingering look and raised brow
expression changing to a slight furrow at the gestures
moments stroll slowly by while James attempts to figure out the exact meaning
hoping he chooses to keep the correct interpretation from the available options"Dun' thing I wa' tha' hard a fine."
a (forever) lopsided smile considers beginning on his lips
but it remains hidden behind the accent and slur and coils of exhaled smoke(barny)
The immense Ahroun rolls his eyes for a moment, then shrugs. Reaching into one of the pockets of hsi city camo BDU's, he withdraws a small notepad and a pen. Writing something down quickly, he tears it off before handing it to james. Remembering thecig in the corner of his mouth, he grabs his Bic and light sit up, pulling deep before breathing out slowly. Lighter back in pocket, he looks around some, then to james again.Written> Its a big city. Been looking for close to two weeks now for you and the pack. not easy to find. But atleast I got to see the sight's, right?
(james)
"Wha' sigh's're worth seein', an'way."dark eyes remain on the note even if his lips twist into a ghosted smirk
as if he could pull the essential key to his memories from the very paper
the notion quickly fades, and the paper folds beneath the instructions of a musician's fingers
offered back for the sake of reuse and conservation
he is a Bone Gnawer, after all, even if that's sometimes hard to remember when packed up with a bunch of Germans
his next comment laced with steam from another sip of coffee"So guess'm righ' I shou' rec'nize yeh."
(barny)
He cant help but smile at the last, then shrugs, writing again. Tearing it off, and handing it to James, he drags deep again on the smoke, then looks towards the warehouse.Written> Not sure. Last I saw of you was after the nasty scruff in the store. Even after i healed you you werent in much of a shape. Good fight though. The others know me. im Barny Jameson, or Mother's~Riddle.
(hamish duncan)
Hamish wandered out of his motel room, locking the door, not that he left anything of value in there and heads off through the streets with a brown leather backpack over his shoulder. he was wearing a black leather biker's jacket over a sex-pistol's t-shirt that was faded and old. He wore a kilt in the fianna common tartan mismatched plaid socks and combat boots. his hair was a short and curly mass of dark red. his face looked a little battered like he'd seen his share of fights, but clear enough to show he probably won most of them. in his hand not holding the bag onto his shoulder he held a wooden scottish shepherd's pipe. he walked down the street and watched the people as he passed (places?)(james)
this time, deep umber eyes remain on the paper for an entirely different reason
watching the memories begin to replay and fall together across the note's movie screen
(.... so you're the one.)
the store, the malignancy within, the banes, and most of all the traitorous Fang
realization and understanding seems to wash over the Ahroun in physical wave
it's personified in a soft, almost growling, laugh"Nev'r saw yeh 'fore shit hit th' fan... 'r aft'." mused absently "Nev'r got a chance a say thank' f'r wha' yeh did f'r me, eith'r."
the Camel's ember neared speckled, orange filter
smoke finally flicked away into a nearby puddle
coffee drained and cup tossed into the trash bin beside the bench
hand is smeared along muscular thigh before held out in offer to shake"Nice a fine'ly meet."
(hamish)
Hamish walked past a pair sitting on a bench and takes up a place on the curb not much farther away and plays a scottish melody on his pipes. not taking much notice of anyone in particular. just enjoying the night. Luna was nowhere to be seen in the sky and he just nodded to himself and continued to play.(barny)
He shrugs some, as if to say 'No thanks needed.' then takes the gnawers hand into his own, shaking it with a smile, nodding. Letting go, he reaches up, rnning a hand across his shaven scalp. a few days ago now, and a shade of hair covers it. Pondering something, before he writes again, handing the note to James.Written> The pack left jersey in such a rush I never got a chance to talk to you. Followed you all here, cause atleast around you, something sees to happen most nights. Besides, we're not all that good on our own. Met up with Decker briefly a week or so ago, but barely got to say hi before I ended up brawling it out with some three fingered jack-ass.
He looks to the man that starts playing his pipes, watching him for a moment, then takes another drag of his smoke.
(james)
being a musician himself, the pipes' melody does catch a notable part of his attention
and the Gnawer continues absently listening while reading the newest note"We lef' a lot a thing' behin'." whatever it is that softens his voice, he does not allow expression to betray, instead smoothly continuing on with a nod "Life ain' dull, tha' fo' sure. Rush out here a 'tend t' s'm Holy bus'ness.... finish it up 'bout two week 'go."
(hamish)
Hamish continues to play. he's not the best pipist in the highlands but he was fair. he remembered many warm summer days he sat on a hill watching the sheep as a boy, playing these same pipes left to him by his mother had given him.(kemp)
Absolutely freezing his ass off. Prowling, he'd been prowling the streets ever since the night they wouldn't let him splat the showering intruder. Staying away from the warehouse simply because he rather have his dick freeze off and land on the sidewalk next to his foot, than to deal with that girl.(barny)
He nods, listening to james, but his eyes is on the piper. Wit a flick of wrist, the remains of his cig is tossed to join James butt in the puddle, he nods again. Certainly, it were never dull. He exhales, and stretches slightly to fight of the worst cold before resettling. 'silent' for a long time, before writing again.Written> Sounds important. So what now? Time to relocate again? Or will you remain here for a while?
note passed, a glance spared for James, then he looks back to the piper. Kid got some talent for ure, but that doesnt really mean much. he can idly remember a time when he had truly enjoyed the sound of music, and even joining in it with a song or other. venomous claws ended that little fancy of his, didnt it?
(kemp)
Hunkered down into the collar of the coat. Shoulder and ribs aching with the cold. Feet had lost feeling so long ago he couldn't remember. That's what he got for leaving without socks. Cocking his head with the strange music floating on the air.(james)
James grew up living on the streets of Albany
there's a certain point one simply gets used to the cold
safely cuccooned in the warm habitate of the heavy trenchcoat
the Ahroun has reached that point
concentrating on the music instead of any persistent chill
remaining seated as his companion stretches"Was." nodded, though no explanation is offered with strangers in such close proximity, perhaps at another time, for now, expression suffices in a shrug of muscular shoulders "'n dunna. Fig're I'll follow th' oth'rs wh'nev'r they choose a leave... a we're call' s'm'ere else.."
(kemp)
Appearing smaller than his fearson height all of 5'6" with his shoulders hunched. There was the guy with the weird music over there and up a bit was a familiar mop of a head. No idea who the other guy was with James. First thought to hit his head was that freak had made James leave home too.(barny)
He nods. it makes sense after all. Looking around, careful to observe anyone that doesnt seem to be just passingby, before he returns to look at james again.Written> Eagles fly where the wind takes them huh? Where is the rest of the group now? I saw that kin of Decker's in the warehouse a couple of days ago, but except the quick peek of Decker, and now you, I havent found anyone lse. Erik still around?
Note handed to james again. Normally, Barny doesnt 'talk' this much, but having found one of the Eagles, after following them on a hunch from Jersey, he is going to make sure he get's a chance to catch up some.
(james)
there's an affirming nod, before the Ahroun falls quiet again
dark eyes lifting towards the skyline horizon
pack and family are the most important things to the Gnawer
admitting absence does not come easily"Luc, Liv'ston... 'n Rune dun' make it out here with us." rhyme and reason clamped shut inside a steel trap of omission "Down a four boys 'n fam'ly."
(kemp)
Stopping a short distance from the pair of James and Barny. He'd wait till James said something, content to watch for now. No idea who the guy was James was speaking with.(barny)
He nods slightly, looking at James. He can understand the loss of pack and family all to well. About perhaps to write something, he stops, and looks to Kemp, raising a brow, then looking to James, to ake sure the gnawer spots the newcomer.(james)
even at the Coggie's signal, the Ahroun doesn't turn his head
gaze still focused on the distant horizon
vague thoughts tumbling absently through his mind"S'allri' kid." loud enough to cross the distance between, even if the words are aimed away from the group "Barny here's a frien' a th' crew." thumb hooks over his shoulder towards the Rotagar "Meet Kemp, 'r younges'."
he didn't need to see Kemp to know a the young Garou approached or stood near
the itchy feeling crawling over his spine was clear enough signal
that unmistakable feeling of pack(kemp)
Warm breath clouding before his face. Brown hair over his collar and half obscuring green eyes. Lifting his chin to Barney in a short greeting while once more moving towards the pair to come to a halt just to the left of James, behind his shoulder a bit. Taking up the stance of having his back.(hamish)
Hamish stops playing for a moment and stared up at sky again letting out a sigh. the stars were mostly blotted out by the city lights. he hated cities for that. he hated cities period. he'd spent enough time in london to be used to them but he still didn't like them. he wasn't particularly cold, he was used to low temperatures. it was chilly but not too bad.(barny)
Reaching up, he taps his finger against his forehead in a greeting to Kemp, watching as the kid takes up guard with a slightly amused smile. Wearing the large dark grey jacket, and his city camo BDU's, sitting on the bench beside the smaller James, he seems even larger then he is. Which is not saying alot. But he looks from Kemp after a moment, shrugging some. Writing for a few moments in his pad, he hands James the note after tearing it off.Written> Im sorry to hear it. Well, Im not pack, but if you need me, just drop a line to the pager. [Insert number here] Do you know how I could get in touch with Erik?
(kemp)
Starting to grow accustomed to large men in this city. He'd learned one thing though, didn't matter how big someone or thing was, in the end he could run up one side and down the other if he had to. Or well, run up it and go down with it in his case.(hamish)
Hamish turned his head and noticed, apparently for the first time, the small group coalescing on the bench, he set the flute to his lips and began to play another tune. this one a bit upbeat. it had that earthy tone of someone self taught. this time watching the group with nothing but plain old curiosity. he was dressed in a leather coat over a faded sex pistols t'shirt tucked into a scottish common kilt on fianna tartan, his legs covered in mismatched plaid socks and on his feet he wore combat boots. his hair was a short curly mass of dark red and his face was faintly handsome in that rough n' tumble bar brawler way. He seemed to have a certain nobility in his features (pure breed 2) something intangible but there.(kemp)
Wrinkling his nose with a lift of his head when the music started again. Taking a moment to figure out it was coming from the woman? Man? dude, someone in a skirt over that way. Shivering with the thought of the wind going up under that, school uniform skirt? Naw, couldn't be a school uniform, too late at night for a kid to be out. Either way, he wouldn't be standing around so calm if he were in a skirt with the wind kissing his boys.(james)
"Priva'e line." fingers reach up and tap his temple, translating the phrase into TotemPhone "But I'll pass yeh numba 'long."expression contains a benevolent mix of fondness and amusement as the Rotagar takes his back
the kid has guts and proved it more than once, James does not doubt his ability as battle back-up
the Ahroun also remembers when he was that age...
the Gnawer slides off the bench in a strange concert of dreads and tattered coattails
breifly stretching out the stiffness cold placed along lumbar spine"Keep'n touch, eh Ba'ny?"
the borderline playful tease in dark gaze something of a rarity these days
but it's acknowledgement of the Garou's efforts to track the Eagle pack down
the glance towards the kid seems nothing more than a cursory skim
but it's the uncanny ability the pack to effectively communicate without even seeming to acknowledge each other's existance
Totemphone rings: Heading to Julio's, catch up later if you're hungry.a nod up, and the normally so social Fostern just walks off into the night
(kemp)
Freezing my balls off. I'll be right behind you.
Still surprised sometimes with the thought talk. Dragging one sleeve over his frozen nose.(barny)
Posted by james at January 21, 2004 12:00 AM
He nods his thanks to james, and raises hs hand in parting, watching the gnawer walk off. then he turns to look at Kemp and Kennedy, raising a slight brow. Sneaky little girl that. He remembers her from the warehouse, and settles back to watch in (gasp!) silence.
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