January 17, 2005
.01.17.05. - met a get [ratchet]

[riverfront - forums]

(cody's yet to be named skald)
Ten feet, twenty. The form stops head cranes from one side to the next, next cracking side to side audibly.

His jaw, even in the moonlight can be seem tilting up, the down again away from the rest of it's head as if to eat the sky whole. His next grows, or perhaps it's just the way the jacket moves briefly in the wind. and a sound breaks the night's silence.

"AHWROOOOOOOOOAHYIPYIPAHROOOOO..." Repeated over again with slight veriations, some barely perceptible some a bridge inbetween haunting chouruses through the night sky.

I am Skald, this is my moon.
I am born to men.
I am one of Fenris' Get.

I am Garou, hear me roar.

Because this isn't like other howls you've heard, it's picked up upon itself over and over ringing through the night in constant crescendo, then it stops.

Suddenly.

And then the man is walking on the riverfront once again.

A few hours later an old Dodge truck pulls away from an area near the docks, heading downtown from the riverfront.


(ratchet)
hours later. after truck moves away. skinny runt, welcome wagon, stops in alley with best 3day old donuts.

shift easy, natural. soon message begins, repeated till picked up by the Barking Chain.

message simple, short - has to be, for chain.

"Elderman - met new get. knows bout you, pack, silence. seeks meeting. drive beater truck. downtown. need help - call."

when satisfied message picked up... and right... skinny runt scurries home.


(james)
Elderman - met new get

calloused fingertips strike against the drummer's thigh
tapping out a beat in cadence with the message's rhyming rhythm
the sound is dull, at best, merely an echo of potential staccato
muted by the layers of insulating fabric padding steely thigh
the very same ideal of warmth steals away the whisper of dreads on shoulders
haphazard mop of jungle vine 'do captured by faded beanie
secreting the curious tilt of the Elderman's head tipping an ear towards invisable telegraph lines

brows knit in a momentary pause
finger hooks back the knitted fabric sheilding one ear
muuuuuuch clearer

by the time the Chain picks up a vollied reply
Jukebox is shrugging the yoke of patchwork trench higher around his neck back to where it should be
wholly unsure if man's clothing or beast's doublethick pelt is better resistance to Chicago's blistering cold

Wrench..... got the scoop...... keeping lookout.... will call if needed.... good job

((I.... have no schedule to speak of *smirk* But next week seems to be pretty open barring technical difficulties. Say.... somewhere 3pm-midnight chat time? Drop a day/time if you want to swing a scene and I'll do my best to make it.))

Posted by james at January 17, 2005 12:00 AM