June 15, 2004
.06.15.04. - binding stains [binary]

[chinatown]

(binary)
Hunter.

One might think it of her. The were other aspects of the asian's personality that came more to the forefront. The immaculate cut of her long coat [yes, in summer..] the edge of her trousers of the nigh soundless fall of rubber-treaded boots. All of these details, the neat pull of the single elkastic that binds thick black hair into a pony tail, the copy of the Chicago Tribune, or the causally held cup of coffee, waver of the truth. [Night is never as clear as under a phildox moon.] The shadow of a beast that hungs over the small framed woman - a stain.

(kristopher st peters)
*Flying over Chinatown Kris sees the one who dosn't like him or his kind so he flies down and perches above her on a lamp post*


(james)
Chicago is a city wrought with stains
garbage littering the mopey corners at the end of the block
exhaust fumes laying toxic cloud above maze of asphalt grimed streets
brilliant colors of what once was faded to forgettable signs of has-been business
entrepreneurial hopes and dreams declining to yet another row of abandoned buildings
Hunter's beast skulking ominous shadows around the two Garou

it hangs over the small framed woman some sentient blemish
it also serves purpose to announce the Ahroun's arrival even before he can cross the street towards her bench
invisable shockwave rolling before him deadly tide

(binary)
i'm list difficulty to spot a crow in the city as 6
to James: 6D10 Dice Roll: 3; 4; 9; 8; 4; 6

Ahroun: Warriors of a warrior breed. Indeed she she sees him and indeed the woman's upperbody does move forward the line of solid musculature rippling under the folds of her coat. Her spectacles flicker with the motion against the streetlamp where an [...unseen?] avian may evesdrop.

Binary's head dips respectfully even as slanting eyes close for a moment - marshalling the stream of data that runs along the surface of her thoughts. "Good evening."

(boris szekely)
Boris is out, exploring the city. The Chinatowns and the like are the sort of enclaves that his prey often tries to lose itself in, so he figures he ought to at least get a feel for the layout. Natty Italian semi-casual suit, slight slouch, he looks like a moderately well-heeled tourist... which in fact he is.

(james)
by the time almond eyes reverse closing slant
the Gnawer's chin was mid-dip reflecting respect
dreadlocks shifting over frame of broad shoulders
quite a contrast in thin cotton-tee compared to the fine tailoring of her coat

"Evenin'" furthering more their contrast, he's quirked an easy - if lopsided - grin against the datastream channeling her thoughts, slowing to a stop standing just next to her claimed seat "'precia'e y'r gettin' back a me so quick."

(binary)
Hush.

She is not a a beast [...lies live in human skin.] her fur cannot bristle nor can her ears paste back and yet something is not quite right. More than most would pick up on the small details of her demeanor, the way that tongue slides over teeth of the faintest flare of nostrils as she stands moving from the bench to shake the gnawers hand. [...a shadow lives about her shoulders hovering - a threat.] his jovial demeanor absorbed and passed over like the sea of details she ticks of: Irrelevant.

"Of course, I didn't realize you didn't have a number for me."

to James: "...there is a were-bird on the lampost behind me." Quetly whispered prelude to the louder words.

(boris)
to Boris Szekely, James: 5D10 Dice Roll: 8; 3; 1; 3; 6
to James: Recognize Garou = 1 success then for you.

(james)
something isn't quite right

James may not be exactly.... familiar... with the GlassWalker to note any deviance from normality's quite right
however the predator lurking beneath raggedyman's skin keys into the all too familiar idiosyncracies of prey
body language far more primally efficient in the diction of declaring unease
twitch of tongue, flare of nostrils, shift of shoulders, and then the sudden need to move
climaxed in the blithely negligent social efficacy of salutation's shaking hands

"Eas'ly 'nuff remedie'." strength of the Ahroun's grip that could so easily crush the hand of most others tempered just as the casual remark beneath unwavering gaze suggests he speaks of nothing more than the convenience of digits "Ready a roll, then?"

brow cocks towards the dangling frame of heavy dreads
ball in Binary's court to take their discussion to more discreet venues

(boris)
Passing the pair by the street lamp, Boris slows, something catching his attention. An expert hunter, though, he recognizes it in another, and goes still, until he suspects he's got the source figured out. Loafing. Window shopping.

(binary)
The unremarkable asian woman in the coat nods to the the raggedy-man finishing the cup of luke-warm coffee and tossing the cup into a wastebasket as they walk... away from the lampost.

"Sounds ideal, and here." A card is handed to him from her pocket --"For future refernce."

(kris)
*Waiting for them to walk away than following behind them, keeping up with them but staying far enough back*

(boris)
Casually, pausing to light a Turkish cigarette, Boris takes the moment to watch the two True Born in the reflection of a nearby shop window, knowing well how to watch and not be seen doing it.

(eva illeshazy)
Although it is not particularly hot, the humidity is punishing. As she steps out of a narrow doorway - the businessname obscured by the glare of a streetlamp, peeling letters bleak against the dusty glass - Eva puts down her heavy square black bag. It settles on the sidewalk with a thumb, followed shortly by a slimmer case in rich brown leather. Hands freed, she peels off her suit jacket with a sigh of relief and folds it over her right arm.

Her (now former) hosts do not use air conditioning until the mercury rises close to the three digit range, and the offices were close and hot. Sweat darkens the blouse she wears about the color, and it clings uncomfortably to her back. She peels the fabric away from her skin and bends to lift the two cases from the ground.

(james)
she is unremarkable - an Asian woman in Chinatown
the Gnawer doesn't have the luxury of such non-distinction
six foot one and topped with a crown of jungle-vine dreads
black tee-shirt and faded BDU's complete the ensemble
proclaiming the raggedyman as much a possible tourist as the next guy
however, blending into the namless mortal public tends to be what his Tribe does best

"Thank'." a breif moment of intrigued similarity between the two Garou Elders, card accepted from her hand and passed along into his own pocket "Easier'n my las' method, f'r sure."

negligent humor filling this limbo between location
irrelevant as her noting his demeanor
casual as his automatic reflex slowing speech
while many would assume such patterns come from a pitifully.... dim... being
it serves purpose translating proper English from the mangling effect battlescar slur has on top of thick Empire State accent

intent, however, continues to remain a mystery
chin lifting in Eagle-style nod up towards a small eatery ahead
one lucky enough to avoid the transformation into yet another city-stain
brow getting it's exercise tonight in performing another shift towards bohemian 'do

a query of acceptability

(boris)
Boris, regrettably, is busy enough watching the True Born in the reflection off the glass that he doesn't immediately notice the attractive woman stripping only three doors down.

(eva)
Eva is ordinary. Dark of hair, eye and skin, in unremarkable business attire (even without the suit jacket, still thoroughly respectable) a serviceable shade of gray. Light gray, for the summer months, rather than the dark black or blue that would suit for the winter. Her hair is thankfully twisted up, the weight of it held off the back of her neck in a french twist secured by a few pins, the dark hard glint mostly lost in the thickness of her hair.

Careful that she does not crease her jacket overmuch, she bends and retrieves her two briefcases from the sidewalk, pausing to shake her car keys out of the side pocket of the smaller of the pair. The links of her watch slide together as she pushes back her cuff and checks the time. She is dreaming about dinner, now, the soothing ritual of preparation, the secret internal workings of her fridge.

(kris)
*Getting board of this little trip Kris flies off to find something interesting*

(yu gan)
*The asian man, though taller than most of his fellows doesn't stand out overtly much as he patrols his turff*

(boris)
Boris offers eva a polite, somewhat detached nod. He's really quite stylishly attired, carries himself well... it's only his dead grey eyes that mark him as somehow apart, and they are not always obviously on display.

(eva)
Eva responds in kind: a vague nod, a polite answer, the usual response convention requires. Her nod is accompanied by a distant twist of her mouth that might be a smile as she passes him.

It's another ten or fifteen feet, not far, to her car, which is almost as unremarkable as she is, but for the fat yellow ticket tucked beneath the windshield wiper. The woman rests her briefcases against her thigh and leans to recover the ticket, cursing beneath her breath.

(boris)
Boris' eyes follow her, attracted to her line, somehow. Mainly he is paying attention to the True Born, but Eva is unaccountably distracting.

(eva)
Keys tucked inside her curved palm, EVa shuffles open the envelope, eyes narrowed as she struggled to read the text, frowning. She anticipated that the meeting would be a long one, and put enough money in the meter to cover the whole of the afternoon. The corners of her mouth twist into a dour little smirk as she gives up on the ticket for the moment, and her fingers tighten with resolve, thumb depressing on the keyless entry.

The car chirrups a response, and the smirk resolves into a half-smile as she anthropormophizes the sounds of her car, imagining some pleasantry into the digital beep.

(boris)
Still watching, Boris ponders that he really ought to be getting to the Caern to present himself, but then he might lose track of the two True Born here, which would be a waste of practice!

(binary)
Strange indeed - the similarities.

If only to accent the differnces, her neatness and order to the sloppily pulled together ensamnble Drums on Skulls employs. Is a casual companionship, and easy silence that did not need to be filled with words. Rather, it seemed the silence was less a void of cummunication and more the continuation there of. Her gaze slips to the eatery and her shoulders roll back completing the unconscious agreement.

Beasts.
[...in human skin.]

(james)
beasts in human skin
wolves in civilized clothing
animals conversing without the aid of homid's skilled tongue
silences are not always as empty as reputation portents

it is filled by the instinctive tendencies of pack animals to continually transmit information
it is broken by the muted jingle of bells hanging above the door James reaches to open for her
(two Garou walk into a bar....)
dark eyes strafing over the mostly empty interior
perhaps it's the time of the night lending such pithy patronage
or the little establishment was much closer to fading stain than previously realized

there's a nod towards the nearing middle-aged manager zipping through tables to greet them
and for some reason, the man seems satisfied the Ahroun takes two menus of his own accord
leading the Walker towards one of the booths in a dark corner isolated enough to avoid disturbance
the manager's route changing sufficiently enough to allow both Garou to pass
an understanding unsaid he won't come to take their orders until called

(eva)
Opening the passenger's side door, the woman lifts her briefcases into the car, bending over the pair to fish a much smaller black case from the smaller briefcase. She snaps this open, and pulls a pair of dark-framed reading glasses from their case, sliding the pair into place before again focusing on the ticket. Her mouth narrows in controlled annoyance as she compares the ticket to the meter.

After a moment's thought, she returns to the pair of briefcases sitting on the passenger's seat, this time digging into the larger of the two, oversized, heavy-sided scuffed black leather whose fastenings open with a distinct metallic pop and rattle. From within, she produces a small digital camera. After a moments study - brows drawn together to be sure that all the technical little lights and whatnot are appropriately lit, she repositions herself, holds the ticket at arms length right beside the face of the meter, and takes two pictures then drops her arm. Thumbing the controls, Eva studies the results and allows herself a tight little smile of triumph.

(binary)
If Binary is impressed it is not written on her face, then again very little is written on her face - in the manner that fanciful turns of phrase may imply. It is the slow series of steps past the Gnawer and into the cafe, that switch as Drums on Skulls grabs the menus and she, in turn, follows him. A dance - or something like it.

Her shoulders roll backwards for the second time, as she settles into the darkened booth pulling her coat from her arms and laying it over her lap. If the reflective luster of leather straps at her shoulder are and issue he would be likely to remark now -- and she would be remiss not to show him what she carried. [small. courtesies.] Finally those elbows settle onto onto the formica counter and the woman leans forward.

Waiting.

(james)
she slides to settle within the darkened booth neatly covered by drape of dark coat
he, in progression of contrast, slides to sprawl sideways on the bench in a most comfortable way
scars hiding beneath t-shirt's back pressed firmly up against the wall
weight balanced by arm's snake across table and leg's perch on padded vinyl
if he's unsettled by the appearance of holster's straps gleaming in the mood-lit shadows
it is something that shows about as much as any evidence of her impression

the Ahroun's seen what she carries first hand, anyway
so there's little concern now or in the future about what she's packing
unless, of course, Binary sees reason to point them at him

"Need a fine s'mone a p'rform 'r teach me a little trick sign'ture a one a y'r blood's camps." menus for now ignored at the far end of the table as James cuts directly to the point, polite chatting and dinner can come later, right now it's deliberate phrase tempered to business hush reaching only to the Walker's ears "Willin' a comp'nsa'e, a course. Hopin' you'd be willin' a help me fine out if there's anyone in th' city fittin' th' bill."

(eva)
The triumph is fleeting, and the scent of it leaves a vague, sour taste in her mouth. Or perhaps that is simply the scent of the coming rain, the hot, unwashed day, the humidity, settling in the back of her throat. She flips the camera off and circles her car, then climbs into the driver's seat. The engine turns over smoothly, idling as she finishes sorting out her things: returning both her camera and glasses to the appropriate places, then shading her gaze against the glare of the streetlamps and pulling out of her parking place. The taillights wink and shimmer in the gathering darkness, soon merging anonymously into traffic.

(boris)
Considering, Boris decides to give the True Born a wide berth, instead heading for his hotel room, a change, then the Caern, later.

(binary)
"Which trick?"

Comes the quiet query.

To the point - these two would get along FAMOUSLY.

(james)
"Bindin' Rite."

(binary)
"Thats a general mystic, no. You mean.. bonding with kin?"

Quiet tones.

(james)
the Ahroun's dreads shift over t-shirt when his chin dips in nod

"Yeh." curt, quiet correction taken in stride "Only gotta gist've expl'nation, so may've miss th' prop'r name." whoopsie. "Will you help me ou'?"

(binary)
Binary raises a brow.

"Its a temporary rite, I'm afraid. And the ritemaster needs to be a paart of it -- I could explain it to you but.."

She shakes her head.

"It won't work unless its taught from within the pack."

(james)
another nod, slower this time
it's a movement of contemplation

"Eagles need i'." breath sloughed out in soft sigh, options weighed yet he plows ahead anyway "Tell me evr'ything yeh can."

[pause]

Posted by james at June 15, 2004 12:00 AM