March 24, 2004.03.23.04. - balance [sasha][chicago general room]
(james)
it's cloudy tonight
the sliver of a lunar smile is shadowed by random fits of grey
some hesitant midway point between midnight's grip and the smile's glint of silverit speaks of enigmatic balance
the yin and yang convergence in synchronicity of color
dark and light muddled to a delicate accord of hues
in the abyssmal depths, monsters lurk in hungry wait
held at bay by the strength of faith's brilliant sheen
and there is some poor sot of an Ahroun caught inbetweenthe very legacy of his stature speaks of balance
perched between earth and sky on the back of a park bench
boots triangulated to support his weight across the chiseled and marked seat
his pelvis set at some semi-comfortable angle on the top of the backrest
long lines of his spine curving to the slouched set of shoulders
elbows dropping in some sovereign severence to elbows digging into knees
the billowing tails of patchwork trench work in league with the wind
flapping amorously in treasonous tease to yank him back towards the ground
or spread as Eagle's great wings to carry him to the endless skythat's where his eyes are
deep umber raised to chase the moon between the stars
gazing quietly from within the frame of loosely tied dreads(sasha)
The night seemed to stretch on forever, slipping from the shadows as the gorgeous Coggie descended from some cautious journey through the Umbralscape. The quivering questing stone brought Sasha full circle to the sidewalk, tilting in the direction of the gutter prince that she sought out.Boots resonate over the cement in a quick feline gait, announcing her presence to the Gnawer as she approached his sprawled form. Denim jacket and jeans clothed luscious curves, a fishnet shirt the only thing that clings to the large swells of feminine softness. The scent of wild honeysuckles, damp earth and smoke, clung to her body. A medicine bag stretches across her chest, banging against her left hip.
(james)
boots resonate over the cement in a quick feline gait
in his mind, James turns it into a percussionist's habitual rhythm
perhaps toying with a guess as to whom this particular beat belongs to
he can recognize the footsteps of his pack and various others
but this one he can't place - not yet anywaylungs compress and blow plume of coiling smoke into the chilly air
while the night may be comfortably above freezing
the moist warmth still fogs as temperatures clash
sketching some temporary pattern across the small park's absent horizon
marring the image that presents itself in the Coggie's supple approach
allowing the scents to hit him first, even though he turns his head
breezy gift to animal senseshoneysuckle
damp earth
smokea lopsided grin of familiarity almost presents itself across his lips
but it's nothing more than a tug of features to one side
informality of recognition(sasha)
Bright pale blue eyes sparkle with from the recognition as the Gnawer turns his head. The feline gait quickens a step or so more, urgency, seeming to flow through the Coggie's body language. Slender fingers of her left hand curl around the vibrating stone, pulling it into the front pocket of her jeans. The other hand falls to the medicine bag, swinging it around to rest against her pelvis, pressing a protective hand over it.The cargo inside was a bit precious and she didn't want it broken. Boots ate ground quickly, Sasha came upon him, sidling up behind the bench. Her chest begins to rise in quick pants, heart thrumming with the pulse of adrenaline in her veins.
"I'm so glad I found ya, shugah." She breathes out in a husky rasp. Pausing at the bench, before slipping around it and flopping down unceremoniously next to him.
(james)
the eyes of any mortal man would wander - presented with such a sight
exertion's quick pants heaving a chest who's fishnet covering leaves little to the imagination
incent coils of honeysuckle sweet subtle and strong enough to weave themselves into a soul.....James - either unfortunately or luckily - is no mere mortal man
and his gaze just drops away as she invites herself onto his bench
returning visual escapades to wander across the darkened landscape of the park
heavy dreads sliding over muscular shoulder in now to gravity's call"Yeh?"
he can smell the pheronome urgency
the spike of adrenaline beneath her husky, bodily perfume
and admittedly it does perk his curiosity
though all the Gnawer offers is Camel pack and battered Zippo(sasha)
The lush line of her lips pull back into a small smile for the Gnawer. She lifts up a hand, shaking her head. "No, t'anks, shugah, I don't smoke." she speaks in another rush of breathless words. Chest continuing to rise and fall quickly. She straightens up, pulling the medicine bag into her lap now, looking over at James. "I know t'is must seem strange, but I wasn't sure I was goin' to see ya before de battle. I've got a present for ya and de eagles."(james)
chin tips towards the slopes and planes of a chest hidden beneath thermals
offering tucked away in one of the many pockets of his trench
the act was a progression of mere ritual
the Hood always sharing whatever he has"Been ou' 'ere c'llectin'."
his own mostly finished cigarette waved towards the empty park to punctuate the phrase
scissored between two long fingers calloused by the Ahroun's methods of business and pleasure
flag of smoke flickering in the gesture before disappearing on the night's breeze
as permanent as the logic of his pseudo-explanation may seem to her
perhaps he may need no further clarification, knowing he speaks to a Theurgethere's a stern set about his features
once, long ago, they may have been considered soft, young, even inviting
but the lines about his mouth and set of his brow have hardened
and with the battle in question only a few dawns away
it seems the Urrah Gnawer had some preparations of his own to go through
body and weapons were easy enough to hone to perfection
it seems questions of mind, spirit and soul have him in the park tonight
quietly thinking beneath the light of a slivered moon"W'cha got f'r 's?"
give him credit: at least he's trying for civil conversation
given the gravity of the situation they were last in together.... especially concerning gifts....(sasha)
She remembers the last time they were together and the gifts that had been presented to James. She was not pleased by such an act. It was strange the way she acted, perhaps, she sympathized with James for the loss of a loved one, especially, one that was Garou. Funny how you could find similiarities between two strangers that barely knew each other.For the hurt that Sasha presumes Tucker caused James, she had clawed Tucker across the face for it in punishment. Her words were not nice for the brattish Fang.
Pink tongue darts out to wet her lips, nostrils flaring out, breathing in deep intakes of air as she starts to calm down. Her heart continues to thrum wildly, like the passionate hoofbeats of Unicorn, her tribal totem. Where the Hood provided for others, so did the Children of Unicorn.
Her chin dip down, looking at the medicine bag. Pitch-black tendrils fall forward to brush acrosst the flawless creamy complexion of her cheeks. Nimbly, fingers open the latch, flipping the flap back to dip her left hand inside.
She finds the small vial of inky-black liquid, cork lids wrapped in leather cord to keep them attatched until the time came to use them. She pulls out six of these small vials, holding up her hand to James. Fingers uncurl to expose them to him.
"Nightshade talens. I made'em a bunch of'em and I wanted to give'em to ya, shugah. I hope t'ey'll come in handy. T'ey'll allow ya to appear invsible in shadows. If'n ya can't use'em keep'em."
(james)
a brow most certainly lifts
(....aroo?)
Nightshade talens?
that's a new one for the Fosternthe Camel is clenched between straight, white teeth
orange filter denting so precisely
his head tilts to an angle which keeps smoke out of his eyes
and a hand reaches to push away the dreads that invited themselves into his view
studying the vials carefully taken from the Coggie
listening to them clink softly together in settling across his calloused palms"Thank'." murmured. genuine. far cry from the last gift exchange they both witnessed, isn't it... "How d'they w'rk?"
deep umber flickers breifly away from the vials at the question, it may seem obvious, but far be it from James to leave things up to interpretation and find someone using it wrong in a time of need - not to mention the Frankenweiler-instilled thirst for knowledge just got sent into overdrive
(sasha)
"De talen is distilled from the essence of night. When quaffed, a fluid ounce in each vial, will turn the imbiber's body into shadow, renderin' ya virtually invisible in darkness. Effects only last for an hour, I'm afraid, but it's something. Anybody tryin' to find ya would have to be actively searchin' for ya, James." she explains, turning to face him on the bench. She tilts her head to the side, drawing her hand away after giving him the vials to let it fall into her lap.(james)
contrary to popular reputation of the certain Auspice
this Full Moon seriously listens
learning everything he can in what the Theurge has to offer
this is her territory, allright, and he's bowing down to that knowledgeessence of the night, virtually invisable.... well fancy that
James is, for lack of a better explanation, quite impressed
veteran warrior or not - he's not blinded by pride or disregarding the magnitude Friday will bring"Thank' Sassssh." still having trouble with that name, lips turning into a breif frown at the exaggerration the spelling inflicts on his slur "'preciate an'thin' y' off'r a hel'."
(sasha)
"Yar welcome, James, I'm glad to help de Eagles in any way I can." She doesn't seem to mind the exaggeration of her name at all.Hell, Kemp was calling her sashay the first night she met him. A small sense of pride swells up in the Coggie's chest, feeling proud that she has actually impressed him.
Her head turns away, looking out over the area, slowly, it falls back to stare up at the crescent moon. Her moon. Luna's cheshire grin. "How much do ya know about what's goin' down on Friday?"
(james)
James would be lucky to get "sashay" out of his mouth
going to have to work on coming up with another name for the Theurge
with her question posed, he allows a silence to fall over thought
carefully putting the vials away into a pocket safest
the Camel flicked away before another appears to take its place
lungful of smoke offered to the night's crisp air"Na'much. Been gone." down too long in Erik's midnight sea, eh, Jamey-boy? "Jus' know w're goin' in fron'line.... fightin'."
(sasha)
Her voice drops into the soft, honeyed lull of whiskey-sweetness, tilting her head closer to James' face to catch his ear."Meskhenet came back from de mission she was sent on to speak to Pure Ones. We've got back de key t'at'll allow us to build a new home."
Her words meant for his ears only, as her hands fall to the medicine bag protectively. "More like I guard de fetish and get to be de one to raise it."
(james)
once more, his chin drops towards his chest
the movement is at an angle now
considering he's leaned in to catch her whispered words
(admit it, Jamey-boy, not all that bad of an experience, is it... been awhile....)
lower lip pressed against upper teeth in thought
(.... just thought?)
exhale shot from the side of his mouth and away from the air she'd breath"Mean'n' we sen' in fron' guar' a make sure y' get wh're y' need a go."
doesn't seem to surprise the Ahroun
wouldn't be the first time
(sasha)
Slowly, her body pivots towards him, one leg draws up, brushing her knee against his outer thight, curling that leg on the benchseat. Her arm lifts up to drape over the back of the bench. The motion allows her to be closer to him. The sweet honeysuckle scent stronger with her closeness.Chin dips in a slight nod of her head, "I imagine so. I've experienced caern raisin's before, but never to de extent of raisin' it mahself."
A thought weighs across her mind, "Ya t'ink t'ey know? T'is pyrell y'all were havin' problems with, James?" a sense of worry in her vocal pattern, drawing pretty features into a frown.
(james)
the Ahroun's lungs fill again
not with smoke this time
just with a breath of the night's air
drawing from it the cleansing scents of Spring
and a more than healthy dose of what lingers around Sasha
(get a hold of yourself, Jamey-boy)he had intended the action to set the stage for a series of thoughts
apparently, what happened conforms to otherwise
so instead his head shakes
heavy dreads rearranging themselves across his shoulders"Nev'r 'perience' none a this b'fore." destroying a Caern, raising a Caern.... James keeps even visiting a Caern to only those situations of importance, the murmured and slurred admission rides on the waves of a more concrete shrug "D'no..... Er'k 'r Deck'r'd know more 'bout tha' th'n me. B'n gone 'while."
funny these unknown similarities between two strangers that hardly know each other
paving the way for one to speak so freely to the other(sasha)
Funny indeed the unknown similarities between two strangers that knew very little about each other. It is apparent Sasha is comfortable in his presence, perhaps, a little too at ease. The subtle flirteous nature of the Coggie ebbing out in her demeanor now. Her knee touching his thigh. Arm extended along the back of the bench, as her hand caught up a few of the long dreads that rearrange across his shoulders with a headshake."Hmm," she speaks after a moment of silence, "I never had de pleasure of meetin' Erik, one on one. I saw him at de Gnawer gatherin' and t'at was it. Decker I know a bit more better. Tristan and Kemp more intimately, as friends." a smile reflected warm affections for the kinfolk and young Fenrir.
"Gah, t'is is gonna turn into a big slaughter. I just know it. Wish I'd never left Manhattan." she murmurs absently.
(james)
through the single layer of secondhand BDUs, he can feel the warmth of her knee against his thigh
the tender nerves on the back of his neck ripple in reaction to the distant tug on long dreads
he could, easily, shift away and play it off to natural movement
the surge of pre-battle jitters coursing through his muscular frame
energy simply waiting for explosive release in the face of dire enemies
something far less overtly insulting than whatever would translate into ... hey woman, I'm mated for Gaia's sakebut he doesn't move away
maybe it's the Gnawer aching for the all-important contact with another living being
maybe it's the beast relaxing in a presence that is, for once, non-Fenrir
maybe it's.... something else entirely
whatever it is, he only shifts enough to flick the logging ashes off his smoke
a change in him - relaxed and warm - at the mention of the kin and Cliath
James shares the affection she shows towards them
but the only verbal acknowledgement is a chuffed snort"Alway' duz." spoken as a true Warrior of Gaia's chosen: death or glory, it's just another story.... written in the blood of those that fell, he never knows if he's going to see the next dawn, and doesn't seem to think about it much, either.... but at the latter, his head tilts, glancing sidelong at the Theurge "When y'in 'Yawk?"
(sasha)
Her eyes fell on the Ahroun, watching the change in him. She lays her head down upon her arm, pillowed in the curve of her inner elbow joint. Pitch-black hair falls across her cheeks, spilling over her shoulder.Arm extended, hand absently pulls in a playful tug on another dreadlock. It was easy to be comfortable around her, the low wash of rage was hardly detected by any Gaian. An advantage when dealing with mundane and kinfolk, despite the true nature of the monster she really was. A pretty monster bound in exotic smells and beauty.
The smile twists into a cheshire grin at his question. "I was in Manhattan for a few years, actually, I left t'ere to come here. Got word from Mama Larissa about de problems in Chicago. T'ere was a short while I was up in Maine, helpin' with a caern raisin'. One of mah mentors lived in at de sept in New York."
funny thing about those similarities.
(james)
a low chuckle ebbs from his throat in response to the playful tug
purring growl echoing near-silently into the night
badge of the beast (monster) harbored beneath his man-flesh-suit
and the monumental Rage held so carefully in check behind
too bad he is not as pretty a monster as she"S'how I got a Jers'y." his voice low in nostalgic grace "Lar'ssa sen' me down a check ou' s'me troubles th're cuz I dun 'ave a pack a th' time. Met up wi' Deck'r 'n Rune 'bou' two'r three week' in, join up wi' Eagles few day' lat'r 'n nev'r wen' back." dark eyes swing towards the she-wolf again "Who 'z y'r ment'r?"
by his expression, he doesn't mean to pry
instead he's reaching for the semblance of familiarity in the face of conflict
a common thread of similarities that's finally come to surface(sasha)
His chuckle draws a wider smile from her, chasing away the small signs of weariness from her facial features. It made her feel good to evoke that reaction out of someone."Joseph ‘Echoes of Gaia’ Ringer, an older theurge t'at was a metis like mahself. From Joseph, I further developed mah skills and knowledge of rites and spirits; learned to become a bit more combat perceptive, training with Joseph in de useful skills of Iskakku." her voice softens a little more, warm and affectionate as she reminisces.
She doesn't seem to mind telling him, the conversation touching on old memories, reminding her of how much of social creature Sasha really was. It felt good to have someone to talk with, to be in the company of one's peers. It was lonely being without pack or close friends, something Sasha sorely lacked in her life at the moment.
(james)
deep umber, the color of moist and rich earth, lifts to the sky once more
brows drawing together in the brevity of recollective thought
the mild gesture of worry cast away without another heartbeat thumping by"Heard've'm." nonchalant as the absent breeze carrying the smoke from his guttering Camel away "Nev'r gotta meet'm." then the quizzical look returns "Isssskakku?"
somewhat pleased with himself for not irrevocably mangling the word
just as with the talens, he seems genuinely interested in knowing
a part of it could be the Frankenweiler-taught cub
or perhaps the curiosity of a fellow warrior
though most likely - it seems James is just enjoying being around someone else that talks, instead of gruntssad, the little things that get to a Bone Gnawer when he's surrounded by a bunch of battlemongering Get
(sasha)
Quite to her surprise, Sasha was enjoying the conversation as well. The Gnawer was not what she expected on, despite what she could gleen from first drunken impressions. He wasn't all pissed-off like the Get he ran with. It was a refreshing surprise."Iskakku-- the Way of the Staff," she smirks, tilting the position of her head upon her arm to look up at the sky.
"Ya could say it's a special form of Coggie martial arts, only it involves a staff, like bo-staff fightin'. In a sense, it's de perfect weapon for a Coggie as it allows for a widely varied range of fightin' options, but focuses on de immobilization and disablin' of one's opponents."
She seems to be a plethora of strange knowledge tonight, happily sharing it with someone else that was willing to listen. "I guess to put it in simplest terms. We beat de shit outta people with huge sticks." Her sweet voice erupts into soft laughter, which filters out from her throat.
Fingers give another playful tug on his dreads, before dropping her hand away from the back of the bench to let it dangle.
(james)
seems the Gnawer is all full of surprises tonight, as she is with knowledge
for on her explanation, he offers another of the low-rolling laughs
something so strikingly different than the persona she was introduced to
the sound is rich, warm, and even friendly
nothing like the Garou he packs with
nothing like any would expect from the damaged and scarred Ahroun
it's a breif glimpse into the creature he used to be"Think you'n me oughta spar s'meti'e." elbow catches the slight curve of her flank, nudging in response to the tug - not only is he decidedly not all pissed off Get, he may entertain and even (gasp!) own a sense of humor! "See wh't y' c'n tea' me b'yon' Kali."
(sasha)
Dark lashes lower over pale blue eyes that flick over to James. Her smile grew into a cheshire grin, once more, wide and bright. He was laughing. She had made him laugh, allowing her to take a peek at some hidden side of James. Admittingly, she liked it."Yannow, I t'ink I like t'is version of James, better t'en de drunk one." she purrs in a teasing tone. The rich laughter never leaving her voice.
Her head tilts down to study him watch him, spilling pitch-black tendrils into her eyes. "What?!" a hint of surprise, "Don't tell me ya know how to fight with a staff, mon ami." his elbow pokes into the slight curve of her flank, causing her to wiggle in reaction. Soft, fishnet-clad feminine accoutrements bouncing in the sudden jerk of her body.
Sasha pulls herself up to sit straight, dropping her hands into lap, pressing them into her calf, as she leans forward to bring her face closer to James. "Oh, I have no doubt I can teach, shugah." a wiggle of her eyebrows at him, "T'ere's plenty of t'ings I be willin' to teach ya."
(james)
"Staff 'n stick', baby." his own grin is rather... cheshire.... if permanently lopsided "How y' think I got m' deed na'e?"the crooked smile lingers, appropriately
though it's coupled with a slant of his gaze down and away
that's mostly in response to her direct purring tease
whether it's for letting a part of himself so recently hidden show or... something.... else....
he's not letting her onto itcovering it all with a rake of fingers through tangled dreads
supposedly to pull them out of his face and back over a shoulder
scratching dull nails over his scalp
(buying a few moments... that's it....)
the cheshire grin waxing rogue"Dun think nobody seen this Jame' f'r 'while. But...." you should know better than this, Jamey-boy "w'cha willin' a tea'?"
(sasha)
"Staff'n stick, eh. I wonder if yar stick's bigger t'an de ones I've used." her own cheshire smile couldn't get any wider, as Sasha deliberately rolls words off her tongue in a seductive purr.Dark brows wiggle dangerously at him again, growing more flirty by the moment. It seems to chase away any signs of weariness, which she wore not to long ago. So easy to play the flirt, Sasha was quite incorrigible when it came to the opposite sex, even dangerous when it involved a werewolf.
Her eyes try read his body language to pick up any hidden gestures, almost in a curious study of the Gnawer. Sculpted brows tilting up into an arch once again as his cheshire (if permanently lopsided) grin waxes rogue. "Mhmmm," she says, "I certainly don't mind seein' t'is James tonight. It's been makin' for a most... tantilizin' conversation, shugah," a soft chuckle slips out, "What would I be willin' to teach? Hmm, lemme t'ink." she purses her lips together in thought. "Oh, I could teach a few t'ings, like Iskakku for instance, git ya on ya knees pretty quick, I t'ink. Be a good place to have ya--" voice trailing off to let the innuendo hang in the air.
(james)
so easy for her to change from weary to flirt
it's all writ in the gleam within her eyes
hovering in ambush beneath those dangerously wiggling brows
laying in wait above that incorrigable slash of a purring smile(oh.... how familiar it seems....)
her body language is easy to read; he can damn well smell her intention
but in return the Gnawer is the blank page of an open book
hidden beneath the layers of trench and shirt
lazily strewn across the deserted park's bench
there's nothing to betray whatever intentions formed within his lonely mind
not even in the way deep umber eyes brazenly meet her curious study
and a brow lifts"'zat so...." how much easier it is for him to smirk "Wha' ma'e you thin' y'c'n ge'me on m' knees.... much less kee' m' th're."
(sasha)
"Well..." she starts off, "it probably wouldn't take a great amount of effort to sweep you off yar feet," her left hand extends outward to touch side of his knee, brushing fingertips over the thin fabric, "It really depends on where I apply de blow, to make it cripplin'. Normally, takin' out de knee is de best way to git a man down. Of course, ya'd have to fight in homid for t'at to really work and not shift up."Lower lip tucks inward, biting on it, "As for keepin' ya on yar knees, James, either I break both'em. Push ya into a submissive manuever, which would hold ya t'ere. T'ough, a few t'ings come to mind." her hand drops away, sitting back to relax into the bench.
(james)
"'Course I' figh' in h'mid. Woul'n' b' fair oth'rwi'e...."the smoke clutched between his teeth is plucked free
sounds of that rare laughter drifting away on exhale
disappearing into the night as if nothing more than the cigarette's poisonous fumes
orange butt flicked into a nearby puddle
embrous light winking out in little more than a sizzleit causes him to stop a moment, listening to that
a moment's reality settling in
for all he knows that could be him in a few days
as quickly killed and forgotten as that Camel
impossibly, the thought doesn't remain long enough to concludehe was born to live and fight in these war-riddled times
he knows there will be one night that Luna shines silver smile in the sky above
and it will be that last time that she graces him with that serenity
so when that night comes and her expression is that of fond farewell
he will die in these war-riddled times without hesitation or regret(don't ever forget your faith, Jamey-boy....)
"Too bad breakin' me's firs' thin' a tha' lis'."
any and all intention she offered passed off with cavalier grin
the tiny, precious vials clink in safe-haven pocket
one Gnawer pivots his weight to move from sprawl to stand
imaginary hat tipped towards the Theurge before he turns to go"Nigh' Sasssh."
(sasha)
She turns on the bench, dropping her leg down to touch the ground with both boots. Arms lift up to stretch above her head as she watches him stand."Breakin' ya wouldn't be t'at easy, James, be a waste of good man." she says, looking up to him.
The back of her hand lifts up to cover her mouth, stifling a yawn. The flirtations long since died away, as the weariness begins to settle into her once again. She turns to lay down on the bench, pulling her jacket around her more, folding arms over her chest.
The crescent moon caught easily in her peripheral as she looks up at the sky, before a cant of her head to watch James tip his imaginary hat. "G'night, James, have a safe trip home." she calls up to him, slender fingers wiggling in a small wave.
Her gaze turns back up to the sky to watch it, and then, shuts her eyes while in wait for the Ahroun's receding footsteps. The bench wasn't comfortable, but it was a lot better than being trapped in a seedy motel room with a crybaby Silver Fang trying to get down her pants.
Posted by james at March 24, 2004 12:00 AM
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