October 04, 2004
.10.04.04. - balance [cliona-swift raven]

[ic room, cont'd from last scene]

(james)
James watches the strange woman quietly
barely a nod of his own acceptance before she's drifted back to sleep
at least this time it's with less pain

finally, the Ahroun registers cold beer sweating against his palm
nodding towards Cliona the gist of his intentions
battered Corcoran's take the dreadlocked guttermutt to the door and outside
his black workshirt is still mostly wrapped around the slight woman
so the white wifebeater allows bricks to press against scarred shoulders
weight shifted onto his heels for some attempt at repose
long, lean body slung agaisnt the domicile's outer wall

bottle's cracked open just as the Gnawer lights up a Camel
dark eyes drifting on rising smoke to the sky above
(.... the fuck you just get yourself into, Jamey-boy)

(cliona)
She nods toward James in return, and flows to a stand herself. She reaches across the woman, only to pull a soft blanket off the back of the couch, and drape it over the tightly coiled sleeping form. A brief touch to assure that she is sleeping comfortably, and she bends to grab her own beer, and turns to follow the Gnawer outside.

She doesn't smoke, herself, but far be it for her to make him drink alone. Outside, she settles to sit, sprawling rather comfortably across the steps of the front stoop, near where James reclines against a wall. Fingers slide through her hair, holding it back off her face and off her neck a moment before letting it fall again. Bottle opened, and tipped back, several swallows drained though she looks far too young to have been able to buy it, let alone be allowed to drink it. Kids these days.

Of course - it helps when one's Beta and Elder owns a bar, and the irish lass in question has her own bar on her territory to cavort about in too.

"that... twas just a wee bit odd, wasn't it now.." murmured, gaze occupied in sweeping the street. Automatic.

(james)
soon enough - the cold gets to him
temperature's suuuuuure dropped in the time they were inside
gooseflesh ripples up the length of bared arms
though it does little to the iridescent tat shadowing the inner planes of right forarm
likely cause it's tucked nice and tight up against his flank
maybe that beer outside wasn't the best idea after all
loathe as he was to smoking around an injured person
even his heavy share of Rage isn't enough to totally fend off the wind

"'s..... one way a puttin' it." concurrence in a smirk, muscular shoulders rolling to smooth out the encroaching shiver brought by near freezing temperatures "Dunna wha'th'fuck'a make've ih.... but cou'dn' leave'r jus' sittin' there, 'lone."

the raggedyman's presence is just as odd as the situation itself
dreadlocks and surplus clothes - he doesn't fit into the posh neighborhood
he's as rough, jagged, and scarred as the lawns are deliberately manicured
luckily he's camped out with Cliona so the cops won't be called before he can finish the smoke

(swift raven)
:::::a the roar of the harley is heard moving slowly down the street. The large cherokee man riding it. Roughly 6'4" with large muscles. Wearing ripped jeans, tanker boots , and a black shirt with a wolf picture howling at the moon. His long black hair flying behind him in the wind:::::

(cliona)
She nods, slightly, hands rubbing against her arms. She stands, and moves inside a moment, returning just seconds later, having only gone inside far enough to open the closet door. Stepping out again, she holds out one of Logan's warm jackets toward the Gnawer elder, putting on her own after he takes it, and returning to her sprawl across the steps.

Why she didn't stay someplace warmer, she'll never understand. "I woul'na o'left her, either." And she wouldn't have, no matter how much Percy would mutter about her and her 'death wishes'. He near had a fit when she went to see Chloe, and contracted the recent disease. Never heard anyone say I told you so so many times in such a short period.

She glances up at the motorcycle headed this way, brows furrowed slightly. Not Kemp - he rides like a bat out of hell. Getting a bit cold for riding at any rate.... "'ow's yer boy, an Rumor, by th'way? Havena seen'em since 'e left 'ere t'get vaccinated."

(raven)
:::::riding slow enough to recognize the face of the female he pulls up alongside te road near them with a smile:::::

(james)
the Harley's roar gets his attention, too
easily enough categorized as not Kemp's
that rider actually sounds.... sane...
it's enough to keep the Ahroun's attention on the well-lit streets
even as he's gratefully shrugging into the warm jacket
sheer lupine instinct to guard pack's territory
even if this isn't his technical home turf

"Thank'." nodded after smoke's flicked and ashes sent to the cement "Both're doin' allrigh' far'z I know. Saw'm at Mass.... though ain' seen'r since we hole'm up't y'r place."

the slurred speech fades behind the rim of beer bottle
timing a swallow with the Native's arrival
he seems to know Cliona - so James is attentively silent

(cliona)
She nods her welcome, though her gaze is on Raven, and then he stops and she recognizes him and that easy going smile returns, voice soft to James. "Tis Raven, new about'ere, Wendi judge."

Then, louder as she lifts her bottle toward the man on the bike. "Slainte, lad. Ye met James'ere yet?" A gesture toward the lounging [though attentive, even if it is not his territory, a fact that is not unappreciated] gnawer by her side, an invitation to join them on her stoop.


(raven)
::::the cherokee man climbs off of the motorcycle and puts on an old black duster . He smiles as he walks up to the two slowly as he nos:::::: hello. Ys thanks for the invite. ::::he walks up to the stoop::::

(james)
a brow lifts towards the mane of tangled dreads
nodding to file away the information as its offered
...... works for him

"Eveni'." his chin lifts in the trademark Eagle nod-up gesture which the Wendi will find substitutes for a variety of phrases, the smoke scissored between two fingers gestures back towards the Irish Theurge and her pseudo-introduction before stretching to shake "Jamezzz."

all the Elderman says until formal salutations are given or demanded
after all, he's a guest in this territory, too

(terry mencalo)
[]another roaring motorcycle is hear in the distance,it is getting close fairly quickly[]

(raven)
:::he nods:::: my name is Otaktay Swift Raven. ::::he was fiarly big. Not the biggest man , but he was quite muscular . He played with his long raven black hair a moment:::::

(terry)
[ The motorcycle is seen a bit down the street,barely creeping along now. It pulls up infront of the stoop,an extremley large man is seen riding a harley,he looks of native indian decent,and has the wendigo tribe symbol tatooed on his right biscep]

(cliona)
She lifts her beer, and arches a brow. "thirsty?" in offer, and then makes the intros. Offered, not demanded - this one's been welcomed into the Bawn already. "Ye know me intro already, obviously.. this'ere's an elder. He kin fill in 'is own blanks if'n he wishes."

"This's me and m'lad's land - but ye're welcome long as ye keep yer nose clean. Raven 'ere, he showed up for th'fun part o'th'moot - missin all th'bitchin and whinin', showed for th'drinkin. Tis th'way I prefer it meself, with nae th'ability t'make it fly th'way."

She chuckles, and shrugs. Then her gaze is drawn by yet another motorcycle. "Fookin'ell - dinnae ye notice tis a wee bit frigid t'be out ridin??"

(terry)
[ the man is wearing nothing more than a leather vest,jeans,chaps,and cowboy boots. He sniffs in the direction of you all.(for lack of better phrase)]

(raven)
thanks ::::takes the beer:::: nice to meet you :::to james and then looks at the other man that just rode up and spots the tribal symbol and seems to look confused. Finally he smiles:::::
well damn. I didn't think i would see any othes here. ::::turns to James:::: I am a cliath judge Wendigo.

(james)
the raggedyman's response to another hog is little more than a snort of smoke
(yeah boss he noticed it was a bit cold to be out riding)
it's only after he sees the second man's tattoo that words fall from his mouth
(Northern Tribe.... this chill's still springish to them)
filling in the blanks as is proper, anyway
making sure to slow his speech enough so the slurred words are discernable
battlescar notch along his jawline already beginning to quietly ache in the chilling nights
things are gonna suck come Winter's deep freeze

"Jamez Brans'n, Jukebox, Drumz'n'Skulls, BeeGee Fos'rn Fullmoon a Eagle pack 'n city Eld'r."

the guy with dreads has an easy enough smile
lean and lanky and just an inch over six feet even
Elder or not, he doesn't exactly seem more imposing than the Irish Lass in charge
that is, of course, until his Rage takes a breath and expands
living inner volcano testament he's more than earned his scars and rank

(terry)
[glances over to Raven,smirks. Then shuts off the engine to his hog,stands it,and steps over. He stands roughly 8' tall,and resembles a brick wall. He takes a step onto the side walk,pulls his vest down a bit to show his breed,tribe,and auspice marking without speaking a word.]

(raven)
::::nods::: my name I go by among our kind is Heart of the Sky.
:::::turs to look at the towering man. damn that guy was huge and nods at him::::: I am a judge

(terry)
[bows his head to Raven in respect]
"I am warrior,my name given by Gaia is Splinter's Oak. You can call me Terry."

[a thick cherokee accent]

(cliona)
He....takes her beer, which was already opened - but she takes it all in stride. There's plenty more where that came from, and she's about to stand and get a full round for everyone when Terry gets off his bike.

"fookinchriste'sabiggun" muttered. James, at just over 6 foot towers over the little lass in charge, and Raven does th'same - and this one. well. So she just sits right where she is as gaze flickers over the silent show of breed and auspice. He finally adds a name, and she nods, slightly. "Cliona 'Ricinus' Murran, Fianne Spirit Talker, fostern, Alpha o'th'Dragon's Flight who runs this bit o'turf, Mistress o'th'Rite f'th'Sept, elder in th'temporary absense o'me beta."

Now that's a mouthful. To Terry. "As I was telling Raven 'ere, tis me turf, from here t'Esixx, and on t'Claddaughs Pub. Yer welcome as long as ye keep yer nose clean and keep me and me lads in th'know."


(raven)
yeah. This is her pack's teritory and well from as far as i can tell you could come stop by and talk to the Children of gaia.
I am staying in a house owned by the gaian children.


(terry)
"As long as no one smells of the wyrm,they don't have to worry about me. That makes me wonder why I in weaver jungle."

[glances around at the concrete huts and shudders]
"Something I have to get used to."

(james)
James stays pretty quiet during the conceptual interlude
allowing Cliona to outline the do's and don't's of her territory
his doesn't begin until once they're across the River, anyway
Terry's last comment gets a chuffing laugh from the Elderman

"There's 'nuff wyrm-taint in Chi-town a make y'r stay in th' Urb'n Jungle worthwhile." there's wry glint in the street showman's eye "Eagle turf star's 'cross th' wat'r, Riv'rfron' distric'. Same rules 'pply 'cept y'r walkin' a th' ground a Germ'ns 'stead've th' Irish'r Coggs."

(terry)
"So,many problems with wyrm creatures lately?"

(cliona)
Fingers scratch across her belly, idlly sliding along the ragged scaring there in an automatic action after the Gnawer's words. Chuckling, she nods. "Aye, tis th'truth, inna it now..." Then, after a moment. "An if'n ye plan on stayin a wee bit - ye'll need t'be taken to th'bawn. Raven there likely kin give ye th'ins an'outs o'it, bein fresh welcomed hisself, an a tribemate t'boot."

"If ye'll pardon me a wee bit..." She unfolds and stands - barely 5'5" it seems, and definitely the smallest of this little group. Hell, even in war form she's still slender and tall - graceful, powerful, but shorter then most. But you know what they say about dynomite and small packages, right?

She lets herself inside long enough to grab the rest of her half-rack o'beer, checking on the lass still asleep on her couch, before returning to her stoop. Grabbing a beer for herself, she nods to the rest. "elp yerself." and nudges the carton more towards the center and in reach of them all.

Terry's question gets a snort. "Yer in a bleedin City, what do ye think? tis enough taint t'keep us all busy an' all our chil'ren's chil'ren too."

(james)
the Gnawer grabs a new bottle, replacing it's void with the empty he held
jumpstarting another Camel off the one near filtered to keep the trend going
that butt's shoved into the old bottle to sizzle in beer's dregs
only able to call forth a deep, rumbling chuckle to the latest question and response

"Which Cogg's ya stayin' wi'?"

dark eyes turning to Raven since Terry's heading off for the night

(raven)
:::::he grabs a hold of a beer and stands back to his full height::: thanks. i appreciate it. See your teibe isn't that bad. ::::shakes his head with a chuckle:::::
::::::turns to James:::: Leroy.
he is letting me stay at a house of his.

(cliona)
She snorts, chuckling. "Tis what th'say. We are th'most hospitable t'be sure - barrin th'Coggies, but they ne'er 'ave enough beer. A shame it is... Though m'lad Percy tis learnin. Even if all 'e drinks is prissy girly concoctions." A sad shake of her head. That boy has some serious learning to do in order to keep up with his packmates when it comes to drinking, for sure. But he holds his own and then some when it comes to fighting - when it counts.

If there's a brief tension at the mention of LeRoy, it fades quickly enough, and she? Has no comment. She watches Terry as he gets back on his bike and heads away, and then returns her attention to the conversation at hand.

(james)
"Butta?"

the name's refracted with a fond - if lopsided - grin
seems the raggedyman has a history with the large Coggie
whatever Cliona's tension may be a result of
it has no part of James' repetoire with his battle buddy

"'s a good man. He'll take care'a yeh."

(raven)
yes. he is a good man. i have spoken with him and Nelly of the pack.

(cliona)
She agrees with James, for the most part - but the recent argument is still too fresh, and still cut too deep. He meant to hurt her, and he did. She drowns it in a few more swallows from her bottle, draining it by half, before going ahead and nodding her agreement with the raggedy man.

"Aye, seems 'e always has a houseful o'folks in an' about Avery. Kin cook a mean set o'ribs too - careful, e'll put a might bit o'meat on yer bones.."

(raven)
(raven)
yeah. I have enough meat on my bones and the ribs are good.


(james)
James snorts in amusement

"Wh'n he c'n put'n keep meat'n a Gnaw'r's bones... then I"ll be 'mpressed."

(cliona)
That brings full on laughter. "Hell, I'd be impressed too, wouldna I now - I've seen th'likes o'ye eat I have. Me caterers were might impressed with yer boy when he stayed here an how much th'lad an'lass could put away. Was might bit smug when th'got th'payment too, I'd wager."

She shakes her head, chuckling, and finishes off her beer, easily reaching and opening another.


(raven)
I can pack away quite a bit myself :::seems to drain down the beer and gets another one:::: hope you don't mind.

(james)
"Tris?" a brow lifts, slightly, above the growing, slightly lopsided, grin "'s 'bout th'o'ly kin I seen tha' c'n match me puttin' grub 'way."

(cliona)
She nods, chuckling. "Aye, that 'e kin. Think 'e tried ev'ry thin' on th'menu at least once a week, and th'caterers 'ave ne'er been happier. Mournin 'is loss th'are, since I usually catch me grub at th'pub. Just tis nae th'same without Logan t'share, is it now..."

A flicker of something in her gaze [longing, sadness, ache.... things James could easily recognize, knowing it well] before it's shrugged off again. "th'keep askin me t'ave 'im move in." and there's that easy grin again.


(james)
this time, the brow lifts all the way
the Ahroun giving the Theurge a sidelong once-over
(he recognizes, understands)
it ends with a chortled drag off his smoke
(just as easily shrugging it away)

"Dunn think ya his type, Cli-ona."

(raven)
::::smiles;::: thanks. :::: begins sipping on the beer::::
yeah i haven't been able to talk to to many around here and most have attitude problems.

(cliona)
She laughs and nods. "ye think I dinnae know that? Th'first week when 'is lad was here with'im was th'most action th'place has seen for a long time. Near drove Rumor t'distraction, it did. Nah, I'll jus 'ave t'suffer havin all th'covers to meself, and sharing th'occasional meal with appreciatin Gnawers." tips a wink James' way, before arching a brow at Raven.

"Aye, depends on who ye talk teh' for th'most part. Th'Rage runs thick in a lot o'em, and ye get used t'th'attitude. Hell, th'other night when ye join us at th'moot, was nae me shining moment, atall, at all. Was a wee bit pissed. Tis th'irish in me, it is."

(raven)
yes. I know how that is. we all have the rage in us.

(james)
two beers down, seems the Elderman is calling it quits
for the empty bottle is not replaced
half-smoked cigarette used to accent his gestures
whisping incent trail of cancer he'll never get rolling towards the sky

"S'common, 'specially roun' th' full." a grin quirks "C'n tell ya nah, Rav'n, I'm PR f'r Eagles..... don't 'spect any frills fr'm th' res've'm. Eagles're a war pack 'n ac' like 't."

(raven)
yes i know. i think i almost got into a fight with a member of your pack at one point. Small Get by the nme of Kemp. i think he is a member of the Eagles.

(cliona)
She arches a brow at Raven. "ye did, did ye now? Dinna doubt it. Th'kids a good'un t'ave at yer back, however. Ne'er seen anyone more ready t'defend 'is pack and 'is family, nae matter what it involves."

Easy, the grin, and the twinkle is back in her gaze, full of mischief... "and ye know what th'say about us wee ones - feisty 'n fierce..."


(james)
the Elderman settles Raven with an even gaze
hard to tell what that crooked smile really means

"Yeh... he's one've us. What'z th' pro'l'm?"

(raven)
yeah. he kept getting in my face cicleing me when i was talking to Decker.

(james)
"Yeh... my Alpha." dreads roll across his shoulders when the Gnawer nods "Wha's's get'n' in y'r face f'r?"

(cliona)
This may be her territory, bit this tis Eagle business, and thus the Irish lass simply falls silent.

(raven)
I don't know. I was just in the area not knowing just passing through and saw Decker and was talking to him and then Kemp showed up and started circeling me talking some stupid shit.

(james)
finally, the lack of discernable expression ebbs into a chuckle
strange the Wendi spoke of those hard to converse with
and there he was talking with Mr. Personality himself
James is, frankly, quite amused

"Yeh, kid's gotta mouth on'm, give ya tha'. Glad ya dunn get'a th' poin' a throwin' down."

(cliona)
She laughs and nods. "Ye should o'seen th'get up he was wearin when we was all sick and shite - he showed up with fookin goggles an a snorkel, sprayin every one with Lysol. Thought Imogen was gone t'kick his arse..."

(raven)
no we didn't . I can keep myself in control
any other of my tribe wouldn't have a second thought though I don't think

(james)
"Good." the nod is slow, thoughtful - the gaze dead weight. "So few've're kind c'n keep th'r cool un'er pressure 'n the Counc'l rarely give secon' chanc's."

was he talking about the Council
or any potential Eagle pack retaliation
should, of course, the kid not deserve what's coming....
then gaze ticktocks to Cliona, considerably lighter

"She should've."

(cliona)
At the word about the Council, there's another bout of tension through her shoulders. She doesn't like having to keep sitting in for her Tribe, and she certainly doesn't like some of the recent... recriminations coming from her opinions and choices.

Resolutely swallows it away in the finishing of yet another beer. Kind of makes one wonder just how much it would take for her to actually get drunk - or even tipsy for that matter.


(raven)
well i have been able to and it has helped me wen i needed it to :::::finishes the second beer:::: thanks for the drinks though. i really mean it.

(james)
"Hard less'n a learn f'r mos' Fullbloods."

there's a compliment in there, somewhere, apparently
James has yet to have an experience with a Wendigo to sour his opinion of the Tribe
Swift Raven seems to be holding up the inherant integrity thus far
good sign, at least, given recent events

(raven)
yeah. and sometimes a lesson a little to late. i t takes some a while to keep it under control

(cliona)
She shrugs away the thanks. "Tis nae a problem lad... me gram raised me t'always welcome new comers with a beer or two. A wise woman, me gram." Grinned, fondly enough.

She stretches, slightly, and adjusts her sprawl on the stoop, and conversationally. "On th'other 'and, too much control kin be jus' as bad. As wit'it all - balance tis th'key. Somethin yerself as a judge knows well, I'd wager."

(ranve)
:::nods with a grin:::: yeah. balance. That is my duty. And you know what? for me it is one hell of a duty.

(james)
"Then y'll do y'r birthmoon prou'. 'Specially if yeh c'n teach't a oth'rs."

Cliona stretches, and James straightens
pulling his weight off the home's outer brick wall

"Duty call."

a nod towards the front door and what lays sleeping within
Ahroun opting to excuse himself and check on Rihana
another nod-up serving as his parting gesture
and the raggedyman moves to disappear inside

(cliona)
She nods, and the ragedy man heads inside past her stretched out sprawl. She waits a few moments before she too stands. "Aye - I should b'getting in meself. Watch yer back out there, Raven."

And with that, she offers him another beer, before taking the last and heading inside herself.

(I'm about to die here - heads gonna explode. damn flu. Thanks for play!)


Posted by james at October 04, 2004 12:00 AM