September 28, 2002.09.28.02. - wonder if she screamed at the end [pack][north jersey]
(decker)
He hands the joint back. She sucks a hit, blows out smoke, shrugs with one shoulder. "You know we walk the other way if we see somethin'."He exhales, shifting his weight, idly running his hand over the fresh-healed pink skin over his gut where that damn lupus had torn him open. Livingston hadn't touched that, leaving it to heal itself. Stingy bastard. "Yeah, but - seen anythin', heard anythin' at all? Maybe she was one o' yers. Heard somethin' about someone killin' you girls a while back."
Another shrug, a tired smile. "Well, that's stopped. Thank God."
"Think she was a blonde. Probably pretty. Mighta seemed highborn."
Cherry shakes her head again. "Like someone like that'd last a week out here." One last drag, and she hands the joint back. "Sorry, Deck. Can't help ya. But you're scarin' away the customers, so."
"Yeah," mutters Decker, tired of running up a blind alley, taking his joint back and having a last drag before tossing it down and stubbing it out. "Later, Cherry."
(arianna)
"An I said thank you - that's all your gonna get. And I don'tgive a shit what I am to him. Shoulda gutted him when I had the chance."
Smirks, and turns to lean back against the wall.
"Ya'll are holding last night against me, ain'tcha? not against him. All I did was stand my fucking ground. And I'll continue to do so."
A roll of her shoulders, and sha shakes her head.
"I'm pissed off. Gonna be for a while. I got all the right in the world - same as you. Don't like it, sorry. But ya take me as i am - or I can just keep walking."(jimmy donovan)
**moves up right beside her. "I'm not holding shit aga'n ya." he says calmly. "I already told him that 'sfar as I'm concerned he's dirt."(arianna)
Nods, and reaches for the bottle again.
"Had a real affect on him, I'm sure. I hate people like that."(jimmy)
he shrugs. "Cant change 'em, why try?" he says giving her the bottle(james)
so they say ya got class
or somethin;
Decker knew the local folk
and he knew the local.... folk
the little folk that iseverybody has their own little associations and their own little tricks of the trade
and it seemed his packmate had at least found the trick if not the tradeused and abused Cochran's scuffstep over the sidewalk
black BDUs in realization a few more stitches may be in order
gray tank pulled from the dregs of his pack
he'll have to dedicate it sooner or later
his shirt is soaking up the remains of the Fang kin
dreads tied back beneath the black paisley bandanalower lip nibbled in thought as he finally crosses the street towards "the corner"
(arianna)
Takes the bottle and a long swig before handing it back and wiping her mouth.
"You should see it from my side. Gets right depressing knowing you can't change them, no matter what tribe they are. For every half decent one there's half a dozen pricks just like him."(jimmy)
he nods "I know." he says quietly(decker)
Right about then's when Decker leaves Cherry to her trade, shoving his hands into his pockets to cross the street to yet another corner, at right angles to both Jimmy and Arianna, and Cherry. Leaning against the wall, he raises his head to see James scuff his way up, and raises an eyebrow as if to ask, any luck?
(arianna)
"Do ya now."
quirks a half grin, but shrugs, arms crossing as gaze continues to glare holes in the hide her blade tasted just yesterday.
"So what do you do, Jimmy Donovan, other then rescue battered kin..."(jimmy)
he shrugs. "Nothing any more. I just got offa boat a week ago or so." he seems briefly sad and looks up at the moon. "I wont be goin' back home though."(ari)
Arches a brow, slightly.
"So what you do before - and where's home?"
(james)
a bit of a nod
a bit of a smile"More mojo."
but his right hand raises upon the crinkle of a paper bag
Sunshine Donuts
this morning's, cold, little stale
but still goodeat first, talk later
Mother Rat's been kind(jimmy)
"Belfast. I live with my da' and worked in factories. Till I had to leave."(decker)
Decker leans over to glance into the bag, shakes his head. Not hungry, especially not for something that sick-sweet."Where at?"
[migrate to blackdays]
(james)
more for him
few bites taken of a maple bar chewed in thought before nodding back from whence he came"One apartment building's had a few more gunshots than normal, in the last month..... few mice said they saw a real pretty lady entering before the latest round but they didn't see her come out."
real pretty
blond"Care to go sniffing around?"
his nose is still full of the pine sol from being in the Barrens only a few days ago
he also doesn't know what to look for
but he knows where to look(arianna)
And after Jimmy's moving on - she still leans against the wall, staring a whole in Decker. Flicker glance of recognition for James, but the jerk has her full attention. Toothpick rolled lazily with her tongue as she swings her pack around and grabs her walkman, slipping the phones on and turning it up.. just watching.(decker)
Decker shrugs. Another building another gunshot another death. What else is new?Real pretty lady.
"Yeah, okay," he agrees, nudging off the wall. "Just one thing. Go tell the fuckin' Silver Fang bitch across the street to quit glarin' my way."
No way was he going over to risk about confrontation.
(james)
Silver Fang bi...?
a glance across the street across the last bite of the bar"Ooooh.... I thought after last night you'd developed a fan club"
waggling fingers before they're licked clean
he can hear the walkman from here
no use in calling outthe bag handed over for safe keeping
and the Gnawer is up and at'em
heading on over to the other side (once again, it seems)(decker)
"Fuck you," scowls Decker. Fan club. Fuckin' Gnawer who thought he was funny.As James moves off, Decker looks into his bag of treats. Yueech. Crinkling the top closed, he lets it hang by his side while he walks into the convenience store to flip through skin mags. He couldn't pay up tonight, but he could still look.
(ari)
Not bloody likely. A lift of brow, but fingers lift and waggle in return, headphones pulled off to drop around her neck as james heads her way. Pause. Wait. Then a smirk.
"Evenin James. A message from his royal asshole?"(james)
funny? no, learning the pack's sarcasm, maybe
a chuckling nod before a twist to lean against the wall"MMMhmm..... I may be taking liberty with the translation, but I think it boils down to mind your manners or next time he won't hold back, or bring Livingston in on it."
he heard all about it last night
and probably has figured more out than Decker let on
he knows it wasn't entirely his temper
or at least, figured it out once "she" narrowed down to Arianna(arianna)
She just, stares at the boy.
"mind my.. oh you gotta be fucking kidding me."
She shakes her head - nope, no different here either. So much for James not being so bad, hm? a shake of her head and she tucks her toothpick into her pocket. They're all the fucking same.
"Whatever."
Yeah - a WHOLE load of shit narrowed down to a single word.(james)
muscle rolls shoulders into a shrug
hands held up in that "nothing personal" way"I'm just delivering what was said, and trying to turn it into English over slang. He outranks us both."
as if that explains everything
well
it does, come to think of it
even if a brow lifts the bandana on his forehead
he knows there's more than 'whatever' stored up in there(arianna)
Smirks.
"Everyone outranks me, which is why no ones bothered to tell the whole story or even hear my side before passing judgement on the SilverFangBitch. They're all the same. All that remains to be seen is if you are any different."(james)
there's a bit of a laugh at that one"Well you are a bitch."
grinned
"So what's your side?"
(arianna)
"Yeah, and he's an asshole. With not one wit of fucking manners. Should have gutted him when I had the chance."
Wry grin, though she looks over a james.. actually having not expected the question, what with Rune's "no wonder he decked her" and jimmys poor us look what we have to put up with routine. A slight nod
"Was headed back to my friends pad, and fucker reached out and grabbed me, started demanding that I tell him shit - no introduction, no nothing. How the hell was I supposed to know he was on your side, hm? I told him he wasn't getting shit without telling me who he was, and thats when he grabbed me by the throat snarled some macho bullshit and shoved me."
a pause, a shrug.
"I stood my ground and returned the favor. Asking again for some sort of introduction and why I should tell him anything. That's when he decked me. I only held the blade to him - I had no intention of using it, just of getting him to back the fuck off."
Shrugs, and gares toward the door of the convenience store.
"Had he been civil and at least told me who the fuck he was - he'da found out I didn't know where my so-called "family" is anyway and that I came alone. But he has no manners and even less common sense."(james)
there's a nod
no defending his packmate
no damning him either
Decker is Decker and it's not his right nor mission to change him"He seems to be a little touchy about blades."
dark eyes take a gandering glance over
"He tell you what we found last night?"
(arianna)
A slight smirk. A little touchy indeed.
"A simple introduction and request and he never would have seen the blade."
A shrug. Simple as that and yes she's still pissed of. When you come from where she has... yeah. anyway. A slight shrug.
"Snarled something about a chick in the woods before my world went black and red."(james)
"A chick in the woods.... just like you..... but a great deal smaller. I wrapped everything that was left to bury in my t-shirt, and probably didn't need that much. Decker knows who did it. I think he was more concerned with not having a repeat performance rather than formal introductions and requests."again the smooth shrug
that easy smile
perhaps Decker does have common sense
maybe even compassionin his harsh, trailer trash, brutal sort of way
but you won't find the Gnawer saying that out loud
let them each think what they want
he knows what he knows"Next time, glare at his boots, or at least smile when you think the dirty thoughts. There's something to be worried about far more dangerous than him, and a lot closer than what we found the other day suggested. You know where Rune's is, they're pack..... so you know how to find me if you need me. Be careful out there, hm?"
(ari)
She just shakes her head.
"I didn't say shit about formality - but is 'names decker, this is what's happening, you know anything to help?' too much to ask? And I did ask. three times. I don't think he's concerned for shit. But again - whatever. My condolences."
There won't be a next time. She pulls from the wall, and nods.
"Later man."
He still has her card - she won't be looking them up. They need her, they can come find her. A roll of shoulders resituates backpack, and she heads thataway once more.(rune)
"Try this one."The distinctive flapping of glossy pages against glossy pages: the magazine rattle. Decker's view of Miss October is interrupted by a another Miss October: same silicone breasts, same bleached blonde hair, more blatant pose.
(james)
he said if
he doubts it
but the offer was still made
Mother Rat still heard ityoung ones these days, they really need to learn to listen
but the boyman finds his way back down and across the street
and into the store
stopping to half peer at the skin mag in question"Anyone interesting?"
glancing nod for Rune
(decker)
Decker starts, looking up with a wild light in his eyes (dangerturnbiteKILL--oh.) that dies down to the usual slow muted seethe of his Rage. Looking down at the better picture, he smirks faintly and shakes his head."Check out page 87."
Probably not what they expected. The girl there is the most...plain? No; none of the girls were plain. But normal might be a good word for it. The least fake. The breasts might almost be real; the hair is dark and smooth; the pose, a recline, all sleek sloping planes and gentle curves. One of the amateurs, and probably one that barely made the cut into the issue.
Strange what you start longing for after a few years of the wild, the exotic, the unnatural, the War.
(rune)
"We'll take it," Rune says to the clerk, with a bare-lidded glance when the Playboy is open to page 87. Pulling out her credit card, she glances at the boys. "Anything else y'all want?"It wasn't exactly the time or place to discuss what they might've learned.
(james)
the normal woman gets what could almost be a smile
the credit card a look of almost confusion
before he remembers himself
(old habits die hard)ones that work still somewhat of a treasure to him
reaching to grab a Belly-Washer while the offer is still open and holds it up with a nod
(decker)
Decker just shakes his head, taking his Playboy in its nice discreet brown paper bag outside when Rune's done paying for it."We were gonna go scope out somethin' James found earlier," he says. Cherry was gone. Either got some business or gave up, he figures.
(rune)
Rune tosses in a packet or three of rolling papers and a five pack of cheap lighters. She grabbed her prized Zippo off the street last night after tossing it to some strange, but has decided to be prepared. Next time someone asks her for a light, she'll just give them one of these.The clerk takes an imprint of the card, and Rune signs one of her many aliases, then strides out of the convenience store as she stuffs her bounty into the deep pocket of her leather blazer.
Pausing on the sidewalk beside Decker, she lights up a cigarette. "So. Where to?"
(decker)
Decker, waiting for James to lead the way, asks Rune, "You find anythin'?"
(james)
it's all about Stuff
while he may have no personal use for the Courage the Cowardly Dog top on the drink
someone else might
and bartering has worked since the beginning of time
sipping on the daily dose of vitamin C in the berry drink
dreads bob in a nod"Thank you, Rune."
outside
already heading towards the area in question"It's about six or so blocks up"
better than sixty miles this time, eh?
(rune)
"Don't mention it." Rune falls into step alongside the James, and her strides are long and even tonight. It seems she remembered to wear sensible shoes, rather than the tragically hip heels she usually favors. Tucking her hands into the pockets of her leather blazer, Rune shrugs to Decker. "Not really. Didn't think I would. I can usually do some information gathering the other way around. Gimme a location or a name, and I can have some folks I know dig up records and so on. But out here, this ain't really my turf so this sorta canvasing shit ain't my forte."(decker)
Decker nods, hands in his pockets, trudging along. Though he's somewhere between James and Rune in height, his slouching, prowling gait leaves him several inches shorter. Pant-cuffs scrape along pavement, wearing new frays and new holes into the hem as he keeps pace."James' people said they heard gunshots in some apartment." He fills her in not to make conversation but out of pack instinct. What one knows, the pack knows. "Said a pretty lady walked in that day 'n never came out. Figure it's worth a shot."
Lagging briefly behind to ditch the paper bag in the general direction of a trashcan, he shoves the skin mag folded up into the back of his cargoes and then trots to catch up to them again. James' long easy stroll matches Rune's hipswaying slink matches Decker's slow thuggish swagger. Three abreast, the urbanesque Garou prowl the pavement, easily and unthinkingly matched in pace and stride.
"Should probably send word to her people somehow," he adds.
(james)
Cochran soles lug across the neatly shaped cement
silent in thought and sip for awhile"Well.... we might have a location for you. More wicked mojo, just going to sniff around."
considering last night's events
it seemed the best way to go about it
dark eyes glancing up the streets ahead
and pulling to a stop mid-block"But it seems we've got about seven complexes to choose from."
(rune)
"There's a Caern in Central Park," Rune comments, offhanded, to Decker. Maybe we can pass on the word to them, they can get in touch with her people. Put the word out, find out who's missin' what, and so on. Probably not many - if any - of her folks up there, but they'd know where to go better than we would. I don't have any idea about other Caerns close by."Nodding to James as he draws to a stop, Rune continues, "...I'll have my uncle see what he can dig up on what we find. It's all a mismatched patchwork of databases, and so on, so there's no guarantee, but could be he can give us some clues. Any idea on where to start?"
(decker)
Nodding mutely to Rune's suggestion, he keeps pace and listens to his packmates."Let's go Umbral," Decker interrupts when Rune asks where to start. "Ain't gonna be able to tell which building it is from this side, but might be that we can from the other. Look fer taint."
(james)
the three amigos
the three stooges
or
the three horsemen avenging their fallen comradehe's not sure what to think of it
but it's comfortable to walk with a pack again
this it how it's done
this is how it should be
no matter past mistakes"Arianna's the only one I know of her family, but she's about as out of contact with them as we are, the only Others I know of are up in the Barrens, seems you know them too. We were on the outskirts of NYC, so not too in touch with the goings on there outside of hearsay and rumor."
what he finds out in Jersey is what will get the home Sept back in the proverbial loop
a Bone Gnawer investigating a Fang Kin's disappearence
little brother's good for something, it seems"Mouse said she saw a real pretty lady walking into a dark building a little while before the last volley of shots."
that narrows seven down to five
not even breaking stride to turn into an alley
already looking like he belongs there
already able to tell it's uninhabited
(it's a homeless thing)
exhaling as his body slims to squeeze throughit's always easier.... in the city
(decker)
It's always harder in the city.So Decker doesn't try to do it alone. He grabs Rune's hand and lets her pull him across, hoping her spirit can add to his measly one. All muscle and no mind, is Decker. All rage and no gnosis.
Pop. One of those subaudible subdermal noises, like someone releasing a pressure seal far, far away. Sound is just pressure, so why not? On the other side now, crawlerling spiders all around gleaming silver-grey with eyes the color of electricity, purple and blue and white all at once, Decker lets go of Rune and shakes out his fingers.
Webs everywhere. Pattern everywhere. And beneath that, seething and jarring, the everpresent stench of Wyrm. Smog, pollution, despair, jealousy, abuse, hatred.
Just another day.
How could they stand it, Rune and James?(rune)
The faintest shake of her head - acquiescence, no doubt - scatters inky strands of hair around her face. Rune as they enter the alley, smoothing them back with a slim white hand.Glancing at James - perfectly willing to follow his lead here - she nods to herself and pulls out her lighter, then leads Decker through the thick webbed strands of the umbra.
The viscous gauntlet is familiar enough for her, and the stained, shattered penumbra just another reflection of home. She begins a slow circle in place, getting her bearing and keeping a careful eye out for the million hazards to which they might fall prey. The landscape is ghostly, ghastly, a strange multilayered history of the site. Half the current buildings - more - haven't yet made their imprint here, while others from another age cling stubbornly to their little spiritual plot, slowly fading to nothingness.
(james)
maybe this is why his kind are always looked down on
not the First Legend of old Boney's tricks
not the mangey, downbred.... domesticated... bodies
but that they're so damn comfortable herethis is home
the beast forced to grow and adapt to the sprawling, infested, seething, rotting concrete jungle
the primitive boy becoming the urban man
the animal evolving into something better.... or worsea deep breath clears his head
no more pine-sol
even with the hazards ready to drag him into the darkness
that easy smile hasn't left
that pace doesn't slow
weaving through and around the scattered half-shadow ghosts of forgotten memory demanding it's share of conscience as easily as if walking down an empty street, already numb to the stained, vicious leftovers of what once might have been - he knows he lays a trail safe for them to follow as they search(decker)
So he follows closely, now and then casting quick glances to either side. He might be passably familiar with the city's realmside, but this was a different situation. He didn't want to be bringing up the rear here. The odd superimposed landscape with its endless shining mirror-webs confused him, misled him, made him fear that he might lose the path if no one was there before and behind him.As he moves, almost without realizing it, he takes his favored war-shape, the brooding thug becoming a grey-furred direwolf, claws ticking on the now-slick-as-glass, now-rough-as-concrete surface of the ground they tread upon.
(rune)
Rune's lips twist into her usual faint smirk as Decker choses the middle position. Her laugh is soundless, and mostly mirthless, as she falls into step behind him.Hip-sauntering gate bleeds into a wary prowl, watchful and ready and alert. Tension sparks through her body, electric, livewire, but she stays loose and ready as they explore.
Except for the ceremony wherein they called Eagle, she hasn't been Umbral in a good long time. Familiar as she is with this urban horrorscape, she wouldn't dare it without pack. Pack - how unsettling, how bizarre.
(james)
the Get prowling the hunt behind enemy lines
the Walker tense with awareness' electric current
the Bone Gnawer taking a walk through the parkup, down, around
side to side
put your left foot in, put your left foot out
put your left foot in, and hope it doesn't get ripped off
you do the lookey-lookey and ya may get turned around
that's what it's aaaalll aboutstraight and narrow
a simple path
they won't get lost
they can look around
he'll make sure they don't make that left at Albaquerquetwisted as the landscape is
cities are cities
integrally, they're all the same
that's the beauty of ita quick glance back
silentanything?
(decker)
He's looking around, grey eyes in a grey face, white on his shoulder. He looks at the facades of the ghostly buildings one on top of the other, looking for things that didn't belong.The city is old; there's a lot of blood. What's he's looking for, though, is fresher. And more...wrong.
Nothing, he rumbles, so far.
(rune)
Crouching on the cracked cobblestones of a street-that-was, fingers half-trailing over a few sickly, waving weeds, Rune studies the ghostly structures with a careful eye. In the middle of one of the apartment buildings, the remains of an old church. The lines of the squat, shambling tenement are barely visible, little more than a suggestion of structure, like a cage, around boxlike little church. White clapboard glows luminous in the dingy Umbral twilight."Wouldn't be a bad place to live, that," she remarks to James, soaking it in a moment more, faint smile turning her red lips upward, before shifting and stalking forward.
Different angle, new view. The 1-A in building two throbs low and bitter, the almost solid walls coated in a gelatinous substance that might've been blood, but the feel is old - is ancient, even. Glancing up - there? - Rune points to the fireescape hanging above the blackened windows. The structure leads her gaze upwards, the faint spillage of something bright against the dull black iron. Rune points. "What's that? Can you find a way up there?"
(james)
without even being told, he stops
perhaps to smell the flowers alongside the park path
glancing to the little picket fenced structure hiding in all the ghostly dreams
it brings something of a smile to the young Gnawer, tooreminds him of home
dirt stained fingernails scratch at the base of his neck when the gaze raises
contemplation a moment's silence
pinpointing the strange smear of... whatever.....
barely"Sure. Just don't go anywhere."
that easy grin in tease as the empty juice bottle is resecured in cargo pocket
hands rubbed together before stepping towards the building
shall we dance, madam?
the faintest of lip curls when he grasps the pattern web
sticky woven strands clinging to his palms
his boots
ach, gah, his hair on a badly-timed glance down
while there's progress
it isn't quick
he's avoiding the windows"What am I looking for again?"
simply waiting for something to reach out and grab him
too many horror movies, Jamey-boy
...... right?(rune)
"Third floor," Rune calls, watching James climb the pattern web with (relative) ease. She's not entirely absorbed in his progress though, keeping an eye on the blackened windows, and sweeping her watchful gaze up and down the street. "Bright, like a crumpled bit of foil. Too irregular to be part of the web."Shading her eyes to catch a glimpse of... whatever it was, to see if it's even there anymore. "See it?"
(james)
if there's anything that will make a Gnawer opt for a bath.....
he's cleaner than most of his Family, but still
pine-sol isn't quite as badit's called a web for a reason
he's making progress as quick as possible so not to find out why
he's heard enough tales about enormous eight-legged electromagnetic freaks from outerinnerspace
let's try to keep them stories
shall we?bright
foily
shiney
irregular
and thirty feet up in the air - whee!but he finds it
"It's smeared....."
bandana wrapped heat tilts
eeeew".... no..... splattered, looks like.... I can't smell anything though."
one hand lets precariously go, withdrawing a piece of paper from yet another pocket
and wiping it across the stain
caaaarefully folded into a little packet
and dropped down to them below(rune)
Rising to catch the packet as it drifts and floats aimlessly toward the ground, Rune prays that it doesn't catch on any of the smaller, encircling webs. Gaia was keeping an eye out for them, or perhaps they're just lucky tonight.Scooping the pack up from the cobblestone street, Rune unfolds the little packet, careful not to trail her fingers through the smear, then presents it to the direwolf for inspection.
(decker)
Carefully stepping amongst the webs, Silence pushes his nose into Rune's palm and inhales, exhales, inhales again.Snorts.
Asher. And one other. Female. Maybe kin. Can't tell very well.
(james)
Asher
fantastic
just who he wanted to findno... seriously
a quick glance counts the windows (he can see) from one side of the building
but more the relativity of the window to the fireescape
and, yep, that's right, down comes the Gnawer
he's not risking that window
you have no idea the tales he's heard
no matter how much at ease he seems to be
dusting himself off as best he can once back on their level"There seemed to be a little on the sill, too, like it started inside."
not quite suggesting that's where they head next
pack instinct
they should knowand all
he'd rather attempt the next part on the other side
(rune)
Standing and streching, Rune absorbs the information silently, keeping an eye out for James as he climbs down the tangled webbing.And without a word, she turns again, waiting for James to take the lead back to the alley, with Rune the alert rearguard, and Silence between.
(decker)
(james)
over the webbing and through the sludge
to reality's house we go
gnawer knows the way
t'wards light of daysnap out of it Jamey-boy!
the path is quick, retraced
counting the steps, yards, blocks
back to the alley they came withingiving Silence the time to return to more street savvy form before exhaling.... and stepping through
(rune)
Rune catches Decker's hand and breathes out a long, singing breath, then leads him back to the other side a few seconds behind James.There, she shivers a capable hand through her hair - must be a nervous habit - and smoothes it back into place. Eyes half-closed, Rune superimposes her memory of that world over this as if it were a transparency. Grim-faced, she is, no longer her usual smirking self, and absorbed with the task at hand as they pace from the alleyway back onto the street with barely a glance for the few passersby, so intent on the building is she.
(james)
unodostresherewegoinstinctual the check that everybody made it back safely
all hands, eyes, ears, arms and tails kept inside the moving vehicle at all times
good
each step a rhythm, a song, a backbeat to be remembered and retraced
just like a song to lead them back to the buildingrun down
slummy
dark bricksyea.... there's no place like home
and his head shakes"Nothing special..... those I found hadn't been inside."
(decker)
I can only hope they close. their. eyes.Three of them, in through the door of what passes for a lobby. There's an old man with rheumy eyes who leans heavily on his cane and looks up at them, shaky, shaken, his eyes white in his dark face. Ignoring him, Decker heads straight for the narrow door marked STAIRS.
The lobby had been lit by a few pale fluorescent lights, low-ceiled. The stairwell is darker, only a few sodium lamps burning in cages to light their way. The stairs themselves spiral tightly up on along all four walls, large numbers painted on the walls to show them the floor. One, two, three.
Open door. Musty hallway. Windows at both ends, murky with dirt. Brass numbers on the apartment doors, faded gold against stained brown. "Which one?" Decker utters, looking one way, then the other.
(rune)
Rune doesn't belong here - the Prada blazer, the low-slung linen pants, the silky white blouse and the shit-kickers - doesn't belong here at all, but she's almost as comfortable slumming it up as James is.Hands sunk into the pockets of the blazer, she scans the street with a practiced eye, looking for anyone who might be looking at them.
Well, looking at them more than necessary, or more than usual.
She paces down the sidewalk then, head canted up, studying the windows for lights - anybody home? - then ducks her head and follows Decker and James into the lobby, up the moldy stairs stinking of piss.
"This way," she points, the corners of her mouth quirking downward in a puzzled frown. "One of those two, though I don't know how they're laid out, so I couldn't begin to guess."
(james)
this seems like a right nice place, actually
four walls
relatively dry
sturdy flooring
oh, ceiling is good too
pleasent, quiet atmosphereif it weren't for the taint outside the window and all
lower lip sucks in to nibble upon pause in the hallway
mentally re-counting counting the windows and ticking off the doors
estimating floorspace
(Rat bless the Frankenwielers and their blueprint studies)"This one."
suddenly pointing to 302
(decker)
Decker looks between his packmates, and then goes forward to knock on Door A.And waits.
And waits.
And waits.Rune might be about to suggest some clever alternative - going Umbral to peek, etcetera - when Decker draws back a step and slams his booted foot into the door. Doesn't even try the lock first - which doesn't matter now, anyway, since old wood splinters and breaks. Shakily, the door wobbles inward and the three Garou, crowded shoulder to shoulder, look in to see...
(imogen slaughter)
It's nearly one am, and perhaps not the best time to be going a scene of a recent crime. Particularly one where no one is left to guarding the scene. She has her reasons, though, and sometimes waiting until the next day allows a trail to go cold. Or an inkling of an idea to fade, the spark washed out. Or destruction of evidence. So, after informing all of the appropriate people (some of them twice) and insuring there was someone at the office (there is always someone at her office) knew where she was, here she is, parking a nondescript car beneath a street lamp, and beginning to unbuckle her seatbelt and slide out of the driver's side. Rounding the car and opening it's sizeable trunk, out comes a heavy case, slightly out of synch with her slender frame as she hefts it, carelessly tossing the strap over one shoulder as she shuts the trunk with a single hand. And here she goes, to do whatever it is she does with her job (after all, if it was just cutting up bodies, she'd never get out anymore)
(james)
the keyring he was pulling out of his pocket is slid right back home as Decker unlocks the door for them
so much for subtletyeven if it gets something of a grin from the Gnawer
until the scents from within the apartment spill out into the hallway from the quiet, stale darkness within
underlying the pizza, the rats, the dust, and all the forgotten memoriesthere's violence
death
destruction
corruption
and overwhelming hatewhatever happened here was unspeakable
even though he's used to being the bottom of the barrel
forgotten
abused
violated
trashed
dumped on
and generally ground beneath society's heel
the Ahroun halts a distasteful step backsome seriously bad mojo
((the apartment is clean, empty save the furniture Gaby didn't take, but what was Malcom's and broken in the fight between Asher and Madeleine is still there.... ))(decker)
They can flinch if they want. They can roll over and vomit for all he cared. They're Glass Walker and Bone Gnawer.He's Fenrir. Weakness is not allowed.
Biting back the immediate urge to turn and vomit, the Modi - standing with his weight balanced on the balls of his feet, ready for anything to charge out of the darkness - relaxes his weight onto his heels. A cough, a shake of his head like a musician missing an easy note, and then he steps forward and puts a hand on the door to halt its rebound. The other hand gropes along the wall for a light switch, finds one, flicks.
Nothing. Bulb's burnt out or smashed. His voice sounds oddly flat in this place so choked with hatred, "Anyone got a light?"
(imogen)
Into the fluourescent lit lobby, eyes trailing down the lobby as she shifts the weight of her bag, heading toward the doorway marked Stairs in capital letters. Up the spiral staircase, keeping hands away from dingy looking railings (you don't know where those have been) trying to decide which floor to start with. By the time she reaches the third floor, the burn in her knees and legs indicates that apparently, it will be this floor, whille doubling for a silent and blatant reminder that she should get to the gym more often (ever).Third floor it is. The hallway smells of mould and reminds her vaguely of a wet dog smell as she steps in, eyes sweeping the walls and door ways, thoughtfully, wheels churning to the ideas that had been previously brainstormed, the entire reason she's come here in the middle of the night.
(rune)
The sour taste in the back of her throat is familiar by now, and so it should be easier to take.It isn't easier to take of course, and so Rune lingers outside the door squaring her shoulders and summoning her scant spiritual reserves to form some sort of thin, frail armor, then walks inside. From the pocket of her blazer, she pulls out the packet of cheap lighters she purchased earlier and tosses them to Decker. Then, from her other pocket, Rune pulls out her wallet and slips a slim flashlight shaped like a credit card from within. Squeezing the plastic, Rune directs the thin beam around the room. "Best I can do."
(james)
lip curls upon stepping inside
he doesn't have that Get mentality about weakness
but he's not about to back downthe crunch of glass beneath Cochran signifies.... he knows why the lights don't work
dark eyes follow the trail of the mini-beam
the broken door at the other end of the living room
should be about where that fire escape was, too
a bit of a sigh
here we go.... againbut he stops at the doorway
the smells thicken
even as old as they are
once Rune catches up he understands whythe bloodsplatters fairly evenly dispersed along the walls
floor
even ceiling
pooled on the bed(rune)
"You had to break down the door, didn't you?" muttered, the words, as Rune tosses a glance over her shoulder toward the dingy hallway. She does what she can to push the door (mostly) closed and steal a breath or three of relatively fresh air. She spends a few beats staring at the blood pooled on the bed, forcing herself to get used to it, then flashes the beam around the room. "Let's see what we can find. If you gotta touch something, try not to leave print. No reason to bring the damn cops to our door."(imogen)
She will, in approximately thirty seconds violently curse a variety of deities and gods from Gaia and God and Jesus on down, for the poor luck of a Cornish woman who just happens to end up in the same god-fucking building and the same bloody floor as these three. All this was was a hunch. A search for evidence.Her foot steps are whisper quiet outside the door, coming to a complete halt as she sees what is left of door number three, with the faint murmer of voices within, body edged toward the wall, and listening. She is quiet, but she is not perfectly quiet. Those who listen well, might catch the sounds of another presence; or she might just as easily be ignored.
(decker)
Decker coughs again and just grunts. Passing within a foot of him is like pushing through invisible bramble thickets. Rage and revulsion spiral out from him in jagged loops, and he heads across the room to stand at James' shoulder.A bedroom. Or it was. Blood everywhere, soaking the sheets, dried on the walls, congealed and sticky and evaporated on the ground. The place is a fucking slaughterhouse.
No words out of this one; no reply to Rune's cool comment. A thick sound emerges from him, and nothing else, as he shoves past James to look at the prints in the blood on the floor, if there are any left. From the way the blood is dripped and then smudged, it's clear that someone towed something - a body, or perhaps it (she) was still alive - out to the fire escape, over.
This is the trail he follows, gingerly sticking his head out the push-up window to look out. To get a breath of fresh air before turning back. Deep breaths. One after another. Asher. Asher.
"Find anything?" - the words scrape out like sandpaper.
(james)
the window opens
the drapes flutter
.....shreddedand the Gnawer's eyes flick to the wall
"Bullet."
doing his best not to step in the dried leftover splatters that were once a woman
peering at the hole in the wall just beside a tacky (even in his opinion) painting"Pried out, looks like."
good boy
not touching anything
just eyeing the scrape marks on the wall surrounding the hole
what he can see in the strange darkness, anyway
oooonly looking
course, not like he has prints on file, either"From the looks over everything else, I'll assume at him, and not from him? Whoever she was..... helluva struggle."
no Forensics team
but from the mess and broken.... everything
well
it's obvious(rune)
"Gimme a chance to look around," Rune mutters, irritation creasing her features. Pulling her hair out of her face, tucking the stray black strands behind her ears, she crosses the apartment gingerly. She, too, avoids the spattered blood as much as she is able, settling into an easy crouch beside the bed, shining the thin beam of her little flashlight beneath it.Nothing on the nightstand, only a half-empty bottle of cheap shampoo and a tube of toothpaste squeezed from the middle, maybe a thin sliver of soap left in the soapdish, and a half-roll of TP sitting on the tank of the toilet.
Nothing, nothing, nothing.
Emerging from the bathroom, Rune shakes her and skims the flashlight across the apartment at her packmates. Shrugging faintly, she announces, "Nothing else I can find."
(decker)
He doesn't see any of what James and Rune might be deducing. Even if it were full light outside, even if all the lights inside worked, even if he had the training and the knowledge, he wouldn't.After his first circuit of the room, he's wandered his way to the middle, where he stands slowly turning, looking at the splashes of blood on the walls, the drip and fall of it, the puddles and the ooze on the ground, irregular like the edges of a continent. He wonders who she was, this nameless, faceless, lifeless kin whose last remains rotted in a field miles from here. Silver Fang (get of fenris, did it make a difference?) kin, blonde, lovely until Asher (Bjornsen. Rohl.) tore in here, terrible and huge, and left her a ruin.
A queer little smile on his face, he murmurs, "Fighter...huh?"
Wonder what she said. Wonder what she thought in those final fatal moments. Wonder if her eyes were blue, or if they were grey. Wonder if she'd been someone's mate, someone's mother. Wonder if she'd ever wanted more from life that whatever life gave her.
Wonder if she'd wanted to see the world, alone.
Wonder if she smiled like sunshine.Wonder if she'd screamed at the end.
"I gotta get outta here," mutters Decker, and shoves his way out of the bedroom.
(imogen)
Perhaps it was that there was something akin to guts in this woman that she will walk up to a broken in door and peer in, or perhaps there was something caught or recognized in any of their voices, or perhaps when she was born she was, quite frankly, lacking in the one trait that has permitted humans to proliferate for eons. A survival mechanism; the idea that 'this might kill me' stops most people. But then again, it seems to be a rather distressing lack in more than a few kinfolk. In either case, the decision is made and she is crossing the last few feet heading toward what remains of the doorway.(james)
and he seconds the motion
tapdancing around the splattesr and back out into the main room
his head tilting at the sound of little rat feet scurrying across the ceiling
awaya quick grunt
someone's at the door
(rune)
Rune's gaze slips briefly to Decker, and she nods acquiesence. Not that he needed it. Not that the Get needed her permission to do anything.She pauses in the living room, studying the arrangement - a broken lamp on the floor, a straightbacked chair missing the lower part of a leg tilted against the wall - and is walking toward the kitchen when James grunts.
Not another step.
Turning silently now, dark eyes flashing in question toward the two of them, Rune pauses, poised at the edge of the open kitchen. Waiting.
(decker)
On one side of the room, the bashed-in door. On the other side of the room, Decker. Homid form, thankfully: head down, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as though he had an incurable headache.Hearing the approaching footsteps, his packmates' and someone else's, he looks up, giving a quick shake of his head before leveling a look at James. Company expected?
James shakes his head. Instead, his dreadlocks swing as he juts his jaw at the door. The Modi exhales, drops his hands to his sides, loosening and flexing and then loosening, before crossing the room to stand at the left side of the door, out of the line of sight.
Posted by james at 12:00 AMSeptember 27, 2002.09.27.02. - unholy [pack][atlantic city boardwalk]
(james)
it's the picture of a man paused in motion, frame settled upon a turned over bucket, tattered longcoat folded into a neat tailbone preserving pillow, second-hand service boots complimenting nicely the surplus black BDUs that are, get this, beneath a faded gray surplus t-shirt..... now that moves.... probably because of the heavy tribal beat thumped from the steel barrel turned steel drum in this street corner charadelight brown dreadlocks bounce with the beat, his eyes mostly closed - but that amazingly easy grin for some reason still sticks around
whether it's widening for the occasional coinage or bill dropped into the overturned patchwork tophat beside his boot, or perhaps something deeper, something caught up in the rhtyhm that no mere mortal could understand
the cloth based rebar drumsticks move in a vision thing tapdance all their own, trapped flashing in the hands of one homeless vagabond who seems like some gutterball rank got caught up in the wrong derelict carnival at the wrong time
maybe he plays for the money
maybe he plays for himself
maybe....(lucian)
' why don't you find somone your own age, Kid?'Its the age thing, everytime.
"But-but Baby.. age ain't no-thang'" He's already lost, but hey, pity sex is better than no sex and right? She's walking faster and all of a sudden thier's a sountrack to this sorry picture. "Eh?" Head turns and the wiry boy is drawn in like the rest of the passersby...
Don't you know percussion is primal.
(james)
tis otherwordly, isn't it
like he isn't even thereand maybe he's not, if you perchance could happenstance the intricacies in the tune bashed from what was once only a lowly steel barrel igniting a vagrant's dreams of warmth now turned super-tuned drum of divine devotion, inspiration
and maybe a little magick too
street magick
and those eyes finally open with a wink aimed at a pretty girl, frame so deceptively muscular lifts from the bucket and now the rhythmic thumps being in earnest, doubling, tripling and, even, every once in a while skipping a beat just for flair, just for flavor - just to show what the boy man street performer can really do
it's energy
it's passion
it's primal(lucian)
She stops at the wink (… magnetic-pulse..) her bones seeming to shout under her skin some remembrance of tune (All.my.friends.are.skeletons) her mind cannot understand only the pull-drag of its vibration only the need to stand and watch…“Well roll me up in a shit-taco.”
Mysteriously ever-present match produced and scratched from the heel of well worn (--they were my Pa’s.) workman boots to burst to fiery life as it kisses cancer stick perched between the boy’s lips. One puff exhaled towards the drummer as a single grimy hand settles apon the woman’s waist.
“..Ole’ James and I go waaay back.”
(james)
way back - a full twenty-four hours
but a lot can happen in that time
it shows in the itching brand on his chest, hidden beneath thin gray cotton
the indigenous man trapped in the clothing of this concrete junglelike everything primitive - one must progress
and so does the urban tribeman caught in a persistance of time and memory which ebbs and flows from the pulse of muscles tendons hands and rebar against unforgiving steel until there's a climax that - just as with anything - comes entirely too soona silence soon heaving from the make-shift drum thick as the breath from a charger
all he has left to offer those gathered is the easy smile which never seems to abandon him
and the gaping mouth of the overturned tophat which begs for spare change"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, that concludes our performance..... please join us again for regular shows at 2, 5, and midnight, every other Sunday, six times a month....."
(lucian)
And his hands slides lower settling firmly on the the woman’s left cheek before (KAPOW!-just like you’d imagine) a hand slides out to punch him right in the jaw-(’Get your hands Off of me you dirty little punk!’)-Did she say anything? Everything went white for a few seconds and shaking his head he turns to james with a shrug like, go figure.(james)
as the crowd ebbs away, the overturned hat is picked up and change sorted into various collection plates of his pockets - there's enough for a good meal here, bought, unscrounged - easy grin sliding into a slight chuckle
"I take it the lady friend just wasn't your type, right Luc?"(lucian)
"Nah she ws after the diz-Zick, you know--she was just scared."And inhales another long drag of the newport leaning against the wall beside the older man--free hand absently reaching up to pull the brim of his hat a bit lower.
"You know.." THe slow exhalation says far more than the words themselve--you'd think being a hero and all-around savior of the world would get you a little coochie.
You'd be wrong.
(james)
"Ooooh, one of those types then."scared
and with a good left hook
....right.humor the boy, Jamey, humor him
and the tattered trench picked up, slung through a webset cast off that also fits the rebar drumsticks and makes everything quite portable, glyph stitch tophat returned to its perch upon the light brown dreads, and a curious eye finds itself back on the youth"Out here trawling or was there a higher purpose?"
(lucian)
“There’s a higher purpose than getting laid?”(…and you didn’t tell me?)
His eyes widen a bit as she takes the taller man, the corner of his mouth twitching briefly before he sucks in another drag of nico-cancerous-dream blue eyes finding dark brown ones-not in challenge but in surprise.
(decker)
"Ain't you too young to smoke?"Growled from right beside Lucian's ear, those words, as a hand reaches out and snatches the cigarette out of Lucian's mouth. Popping it right into his, Decker moves past, slow as a coiling constrictor. You thought he was eternally pissed before. Slumping heavily back against the wall, deceptively lazy, arms folded and legs kicked out in front of him, Decker takes a puff off of Luc's cigarette and then tosses it down. Foot comes down on it. Grind. Grind. Grind. Smokey Bear says only you can prevent forest fuckin' fires.
(james)
oh.... to be sixteen againthere's a wink, and a nod, and if you're a good boy you may one day find out
deep eyes beneath the tophat brim watching the slow prowl to the designated place on the wall
the webset slung over a shoulder, drumsticks sticking up like strange antenna, the trenchcoat a mysterious talioh, both the charming ones tonight, it seems
"Evenin' Decker."
(decker)
Decker reaches up behind his neck, pops his vertebrae, and grunts to James while Lucian wanders off to (try to) pick up another girl. "...got a headache just watchin' him." Fuckin' Skalds. Always about sex for them.(james)
the amusement never ends
or at least he's learned to make it seem that way
make life out as a game, and you might stand a chance at winning
what's the point of festering
there's no fun in it
but that's neither here nor therea glance after the boy before his weight shifts to begin down the walk, he was earning money to buy dinner, he's not about to wait around until the joints close
figuring Decker will follow, or go on his merry (ha!) way"He'll either find there's a higher purpose, or the joys of STDs."
he could smell the disease on her
obviously, the boy hadn't learned that yet
nice surprise, if anything(erik)
Dressed in a ragged, black t-shirt and that same old olive-drab army jacket, ugly Erik approaches. Never one of those good looking kids, he has added two impressive scars to his face. One, long and sinious, travles down his face to disapear under his shirt. The other, two thick slashes and one lighter, pull his face down on one side, forming his mouth into a perpetual sneer.(decker)
He doesn't budge from his place by the wall, that hand behind his neck drifting to massage his temple now. I'll teach you wisdom, says Eagle. Helluva fuckin' way to teach him wisdom: piss him off perpetually."Get me a cheeseburger." James doesn't have to tell him he was going to get food. Decker knew. They were packmates, after all. "Pay you when you get back."
Tall dark and ugly shows up. Decker nods upward at him, vaguely. Says nothing.
(erik)
Erik nods at decker and watches the passersby.(decker)
Actually, Erik might find watching Lucian more interesting. The sixteen year old wannabe-stud is puttin' it on a pretty blonde girl (hey ma. What's your sign?) who's responding the same way the last two girls responded: walk faster, roll eyes toward sky, mouth twitching into that sort of exasperated oh-man-what-have-I-done-to-deserve-this grin.Decker, back against the wall, lounging like some desert animal too far from the heat, watches the whole thing with some sort of apathetic disgust.
(james)
the sneering
the seething
the smilingrecent exit of the sexual
only missing the snide
oh, and the sonnefidethey'd be one big happy family, now wouldn't they
the dreadlocked man in the tophat and army-surplus clothing isn't gone long, he made sure to set camp up at a very opportune place that was within a close proximity of the joint in question, the drumstick antenna hovering above the late-night crowd, coat slung through webbing dusting off his footsteps with each stride
bag holding not two, but five cheeseburgers
it was a damn good night(erik)
He pays almost no attention to the kid, and less to Decker, though for different reasons. He just stands silently, arms crossed now, watching people walk by and try not to stare at him.(decker)
On the return of the cheeseburger man, Decker shifts against the wall, straightening up, leaning sideways, arm outstretched. Adam reaching for the spark of life. Rough fingers, nails square and dirty, snag up the bag and reach in to pull out a burger. On second thought, he gets two. Hungry as a wolverine tonight. Tucking them under his arm, he tugs his battered wallet out on its chain and flicks it open, looking in dismay at the four rumpled one's and handful of coins inside."How much I owe you?"
(erik)
"It's on me." He reaches into his inside jacket pocket and pulls out a twenty.(decker)
"No," snaps Decker immediately, flaring. A beat. Then a lower mutter, "Don't need no fuckin' charity. How much, James?"(erik)
Erik looks at the Modi for a moment, as if he might say something about that, but then just shrugs. "Suit yerself." and stuffs the twenty back into his pocket.(james)
those dreads dance when his head shakes
simply taking out his own burgers and holding the bag out to Erik
one left, he was gonna eat three.... but hey everybody eatz... even if it's just maraconi cheeze"You'll owe me the day I can't earn my meal."
no charity
it's the Hood's way
(decker)
An uncomfortable pause, as the bristling quality to the air around Decker slowly fades and subsides. He glances between James, his burgers, his wallet, his alpha. Finally, a shrug. "All right."Unwrapping the first burger after putting his wallet away, glances at Erik. "Don't need no one to take care o' me," he says, as though by way of explanation, or possibly even apology. Been a long time since he was in a pack, and he never did seem to stay in one for long. Sort of a lone wolf from the start, it took some getting used to.
(erik)
He takes the bag with the last burger, a baleful look in his eyes and a sneer twisting his face... Or is that a smile. Hard to tell on his face. He digs his hand into it, pulling out the last burger and unwrapping it.He looks at his two packmates, thinking that they're damn worried someone's gonna think they need charity.
(james)
the uncomfortable silence
the strange looks
the worryit's all lost
all hail the mighty gooey glory of the cheeeeezeburger
(aaaahhhmeeeeeen)the boyman sinks to crouch against the wall, all but literally liquifying and inhaling the two burgers, it shows he often doesn't know where his next meal is coming from or how long it will be before someone tries to take it - and he is the lowest ranked of the gathered group
don't bother me, I'm eating.
(decker)
The first burger's gone before he tastes it. Crumpling up the wrapping, he leans over and stuffs it into Erik's empty bag. Settling back, he sinks an inch lower on the wall and unwraps his second. Was gonna enjoy this one.The three eat quietly, not speaking, one watching the crowd with the shifting eyes of a predator; one sullenly glowering at nothing and everything; one totally absorbed in his food. There's a truce in breaking bread, bonds formed over dinner.
When the second burger's half finished Decker stops eating, wraps it up, and puts it in the thigh pocket of his baggy cargoes without explanation. His hands are oily, splotches of cheese on the fingers, and he licks them clean before wiping absently on his shirt, his pants. Great table manners, Decker had. New stains join the old. Whuffing a sigh of contentment(?), he shifts his weight against the wall and speaks for the first time in minutes. "We gonna do somethin' tonight?"
(erik)
He looks around for a place to buy a pop, and shrugs when Decker asks the inevitable question. "Sure. Whatcha wanna do?"(james)
absorbed?
more like in rapturea huge drippy cheeeezeburger with everything on it warm and fresh and juicy and crispy and made especially for you?
oh yea, there's a higher purpose than sex, my dear Lucian
when you have to do without everything, you learn
a belly filled and warm in the contently chewing semi-silence and company of packmates?
no woman could touch that
everand there's an odd sort of pleasure in the eyes that look up from their dreadlock frame
up for anything, now(decker)
Left to himself, he'd go on the prowl for a fight, a whore. Come home staggering drunk at 4am, stinking of blood and alcohol and cheap perfume. Upright behavior. With packmates around, though, it was different. Wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad. Finally shrugging, he says the first thing that came to mind. "Look into that ritual murder shit James was talkin' bout?"(erik)
Munches the last of his burger. "What? what murder shit?" Looks down at James.(lucian)
Humph.-Greatest share if they're in a space station.-
...well somethinmg like that. He figures there's none left for him, noyt that HE was hungry anyway and instead pulls aout another ciggarette ambling out of decker's reach before it is slowly lit and inhaled.
(james)
not even missing a beat"The body they found in a field up North earlier in the month."
fingers rummage through the coat he's shifted a bit to reach
browsing a few piece of newspaper clippings withdrawn, then handing the chosen one on up and over
you don't think he'd give ThunderOak his only copy, do you?
(erik)
He grunts noncommittaly. "you think this is something needs our attention?"(decker)
"Luc." Unbuttoning the flap of his cargoes, he pulls out the half-a-burger he had left and tosses it at Lucian, then lapses back into his moodying slouching against the wall. He tossed his idea out; was up to them to figure out what to do with it. There's a crack in the sidewalk under his feet, and he toes it until a chip of concrete comes off.Just listening.
Just lounging.Glancing up as the newspaper clipping's passed, he reads the headlines and little else. So many words made his eyes hurt, anyway. Decker never got past second grade.
(luc)
It was like a bad murder mystery. Only the punchline was he was one of the HEROS. Him, the kid voted most likely to be taser'ed by Angelina Jolie's bodyguard.(MMmmmmMMmm. But what a way to de-flea.)Okay, maybe not but IF he had graduated thats what he would have been voted.There is moment of suprise as he snatches the burger out of the air. (Weird.) And unwrapping it he manages to scarf down bits and pieces of the burger between drags of smoke. He should be interested in the clipping but really--he's too busy doing an imitition of Decker.
Guess who's become the nEXT teen idol.
(decker)
At Erik's question, Decker moves his shoulders in his trademark shrug: slow as a southern summer, careless. Didn't care to decide; didn't really care what they decided. He was like a logitech mouse, a kodak camera: point and click. Point and shoot. Point and kill. And if it got too boring he'll wander off. Maybe take that sad little kid with him. Fuckin' Skald who did nothing but chase tail - it was shameful.(erik)
Watches the people passing, staring them away a few extra feet, while also looking over the articles.(james)
dreads dip in a bit of a nod, the other clippings tucked away"Little folk up there spoke of some seriously wicked mojo when I was poking around last week.... seems like it was more than your regular Manson or Dahmer.... or even Fish."
muscle rolls his shoulders in a shrug, finally loosening from the performance earlier
"It stood out amongst the rest of the drivel sorta like all those grand openings in these parts a little while ago. I don't have the knowledge yet to do more than ask questions up North."
(lucian)
Half-Burger already finished."So like are we gonna get into the Mystery Machine and start searching for clues?"
The ciggarette sucked on for the last remaining bits of nicotine that stuffed itseldf near the filter. (Hell these things WERE expensive) The baseball cap with the chin attached manages to glance up to the older guys a brow raising briefly.
It's the fuckin' end of the world.
(...how serious do you want me to take this?)(erik)
He hands the articles back. A'right. If thats what you fucks wanna do, thats what we'll do."(james)
there's a nod, stretching to unfold from the crouch against the wall, the tophat adding another nine inches to his six-foot frame
he's gamebut looks to Decker for transportation issues
(lucian - for decker)
His eyes shifted to the beat up radio with wheels, that sad across the street like some testament to poverty. It mighta been a classic, if it was taken care of at any point in its life--clearly the vehicle hadn't been and NO ONE was gonna start now."...needs gas."
(lucian)
"Pssscht."He spit the ciggarette out and sighed folding wiry arms across his chest--the gangly boy looked like he needed a bath, some clean clothes--a mother. and canting his head to the side he rubs the side of his nose..
"BUT! Look at all the hotties out tonight!"
(james)
glancing between the two Get closest, he realizes something
the homeless Bone Gnawer is the cleanest of the three
reaching out to pat the youngest's shoulder"They'll be there tomorrow night, Luc, but what we may find up North may not be."
there's a nod as Erik digs in his pocket again, handing over the cash, before leaving to go find what it is he needed to
"We've got 20 for gas, so let's go."
already waiting for a break in traffic and heading towards the truck
now is there any question why he didn't take the offered money earlier?
there are more important things(decker)
Looking up, Decker rubs the tip of his nose and then straightens: swagger-like, one solid shoulder and then the other. "Yeah, all right," he agrees - a bit more amicable now that he wasn't hungry and had the possibility of something to do. "We takin' my ride?"(james)
"Humph.. but we're a dying race."He's already moving to the car. Duh--Like Homeless dreadman has a car, Or I can drive. Its funny how you see his shoulders start to swagger in genuine imitation Decker style.
"..either that or the Reebok Express."
(james)
"In more ways than one....."murmured more to himself than the kid
he's mostly wanting to know what that body was
as well as what killed it
there's a method to that madness
he's sure of itmuscling the passenger door open and holding it for Luc
shotgun?
you bet(decker)
(*transplants post*)Lucian gets a skinpeeling glance from Decker. That's the second time the little punk imitated him tonight. Third time's going to cause problems.
Hopping into the driver's seat, the weight of the three boys making the springs squeak like a mattress in a charge-by-the-hour motel, Decker gets his keys out and starts the old Ford up. "Should wait for a while," he mutters, letting it idle. Start it up too fast and it'll stall a block down the road.
(rune)
It wasn't that hard to find Decker. Just look for the most decrepid vehicle around, and wait. He was sure to show up sometime.The Z3 is a perfect little foil to Decker's truck, freshly washed despite the forecast rain, gleaming and sweet as all hell. Rune pulls up alongside the truck, leaning across the passenger seat and flickering her dark eyes over the trio. "...where you freaks heading?"
(decker)
Stopped at a red light, window always open (otherwise the smoke backing up into the truck will kill them all), Rune doesn't have to call very loud to be heard. Decker's seated up higher in the cab of his truck. Perfect. Glancing over, that careless you're-nothing-to-me look, he sneers down his nose at Rune. "Up yer ass, that's where."His hand jiggles the stick shift; storm-grey eyes flicker up ahead on the road. He tongues out a piece of lettuce stuck between his teeth, cheek bulging out briefly, and adds, "...or come 'n see if you want."
Wobbling the stick in neutral, he revs the engine and drops Rune a sudden, sharkish grin.
(james)
tilts a bit, looking through the truck and at Rune
.... or at least the top of her head, from this angle
though he couldn't do much better than Decker's answer, honestly
his stuff tucked neatly in the space that remains beneath the seat
bandana pulled out to tie over his dreads
already ragged, the gypsy-fuck-do' just wouldn't, well, dothat Cochran up on the dashboard isn't simply for comfort's pupose
though it seems that way with the elbow half slung out the open windowhe doesn't quite trust that shark grin caught in the side-view along with how the truck rattled on its last trip
(lucian)
He sighs.One of those long exasperated motions of exhalation that makes everone around it take notice. "Green light." Thats all he says wondering why he didn't just sit in the bed of the pick-up truck.
(rune)
"Fuck off," Rune replies, rolling her eyes and snorting faintly, wondering why the hell she bothered to leave the house today. "I'm not risking my baby's paint job in a road race against that jalopy. You'd probably lose a door or something and fuckin'... fuckin'..."The idea annoys her so much that she cannot even get anything else out. When the light turns and Decker pulls out into traffic, Rune pulls in behind him, following - a good ways behind.
(decker)
Decker snorts and shifts the car into gear with an unhealthy clank of metal on metal. With Rune trailing so far behind, it was hard to do anything to scare her - sudden stops threatening to crunch her baby's nose, things like that. So Decker drives with some modicum of safety, tracing a route from the boardwalk to North Jersey almost without thought. With James' directions, they get there in twenty or thirty minutes, though Decker parks the car seven blocks away.Pulling up the handbrake and shutting off the engine, he gets out, evidently expecting the other two to do the same.
(james)
a sidelong glance at Lucian
because it's illegal
not that it would make a difference
but he'd rather not introduce himself to the local establishment"Get on the 'Pike, head up to Allentown, it's about 15 miles north of there."
the rest of the ride is in relative silence, save the occasional direction or three, guiding them through the starlit wonders of empty fields and little farm houses either forgotten or crouching down so low they hope not to be noticed
"It's this way."
the trench and tophat left behind, but the sticks slung back over his shoulder, webset fitting and worn
he still feels creepy in these parts
not about to leave the weapons behindjust in case
and into the fields he goes
following what must be a mouse trail in the grass
and coming up on the spot from the side the authorities, coroner, news, and other official people didn't
slowing only when the trampled dip in the grass begins apparent in the darknessit still feels creepy
(lucian)
He doesn't shiver. (--nit because he's not creeped out.) But because He can't STAND whiny sissy baby bitches. And so jaw tightening he follows james another ciggarette lit almost as SOON as the car is exited.
(james)
whirls at the first match strike
snatching the smoke out of Lucian's mouth"In case you haven't noticed, your trampling around in a dry field of grass."
the cigarette crushed out in the Ahroun's fist
and handed back
(why waste)
before they're moving again"You never asked, Rune."
and it's at the edge of the grass he stops
crouching"They only found about 10% of the skeleton, the field was trampled clockwise for the most part..... you can find animal prints over there.... and there.... though there's no telling what's local and what's not."
looking up to the Modi across the way
"Anything from over there?"
(lucian)
"UHm.."He's not sure what he's looking at OR for but he follows James if anything he could watch his back. As the crumbled ciggarette is settled in his palm he wheezes a bit, "Thanks."
(rune)
It's a great big field of... grass as far as Rune's concerned. She blinks blandly between James and Decker, arms crossed over her stomach, body cast in a lean, faintly bored slouch.Eventually she starts walking again - or, sauntering, more like - and the heels and the uncertain ground and the darkness make her steps more mincing than otherwise. Gaze flickering about the edges of the field, noting whatever structures happen to be nearby absently.
(decker)
Looking down at the ground, he crouches again. Puts his hand down as though measuring, mutters under his breath, and draws his hand back. Thus easily crouched, wrists on knees, he pushes a hand back over the bristle of hair on his scalp. "Prints. Small dogs, maybe foxes. Might just be scavengin' animals." A move of his shoulders while his gaze drifts haphazard and lazy over the trampled circle. "Come see for yerself."Then, breaking off, he gets to his feet, takes two steps sideways and drops. Pushing his hand into a long patch of grass, he flips it back to reveal the blood caked on the underside, not yet washed away by rain and wind. Pulling a handful of grass up, he sniffs at it, and then straightens to make sure no one was around.
Snapping into lupus then - wasn't going to take the chance of being seeing shifting through the forms, and a wolf in the city was still easier to explain than a monster - he pushes his wet nose into the handful of grass and sniffs again.
(james)
the bandana dips in a nod"That's what the little folk were telling me..... mostly fourfoots that came through here, few crows, raven or three..... but nothing saw what happened that night. Nothing would come near the place."
all this spoken in a route around the crop circle - he's not about to step inside
(seriously wicked mojo)
middle of a field in the middle of the night, they're pretty safe save the teenagers in rut sneaking off for a quickie in daddy's crops
but with Lucian with them there's little chance of coming across any other teens
they like their space, don't you know
but he instinctively looks around as well
got'cher back, mancrouching next to the lupus
fingertips tracing the prints in the once mud now dirt
he wonders.... was it blood or water than made it mud"You gettin' any strange vibes?"
not looking up at the question to the Walker and younger Get
(decker)
Whuffing, the heavy grey wolf doesn't need to reply to that. Hackles (white-as-snow) raised, legs stiff, he moves past James. In this form, the primal mind is thick; human rationality is far. His flank brushes the other's shoulder with a wolf's easy physicality, and then he's deep inside the ring. Back and forth he paces, sniffing here, pawing into the earth there -- freezing.
They all see it: his lips peeling back from his long white teeth as he raises his head; the vibration of a soundless snarl shaking the air around him. The heathaze of Rage explodes around him, and his claws gouge the earth.
Asher.
(rune)
Dark eyes flicking back to Decker, Rune contents herself with observing their examination of the site. When Decker goes... wild, her arms tighten and her back straightens. She takes a few steps back and away from them, watching the area around them, narrow-eyed and alert.(james)
the solid drummer doesn't even move as the heavy wolf brushes past
animal ease
animal speak
and maybe he was just ready for itdark eyes watching the wolf very closely
reading his body language as easily as listening to him speak
a brow lifting as the Rage washes back over himthis.
is going to be.
bad.coughing a half-grunt
talk to me, Decker, tell me more
(decker)
A short, coughing, growling bark, eyes wild. A flicker of tongue from between bared teeth, and then his teeth snap the air, clapping shut an instant after his tongue is withdrawn. The meaning is obvious: Not. Now.In a frenzy of motion (better than the other sorts), the wolf zigzags over the field, following trails seen only to by him, nose to the earth, snuffing, whuffing, pausing here and there to dig furiously as if he thought he'd find something buried under all the earth flying up from between his hind legs.
(james)
oddly
he's getting more out of this than Decker had planned on telling him
pick apart what's left
and how others react
and how others investigateand you learn something, don'tcha
but either way the Gnawer stays silent
waiting(decker)
...and slowly the pieces accumulate among the scattering dirt. Here a bloated, discolored organ that might've once been a liver is turned up; there, a coil of stinking intestine. A flap of ant-eaten, molded muscle. And finally, half a broken pelvis bearing the marks of gnawing small-animal teeth is dragged from the mud.Pieces of the whole: so many ways to die, and one way to end up. Rotten.
The muscles of the wolf bunch and roll as he drags, nudges, paws and heaps the pieces together. Saliva drips from his lolling tongue. Excitement, agitation, fury, something. He paces stifflegged in a tight circle around the small mound of rotted flesh, almost altarlike, and finally sits on his haunches, shoulders quivering faintly. Slowly, he seeps back into Homid form: kneeling, fists on his thighs, staring at the mess, chest rising and falling in sharp, spasmodic heaves.
"Asher's a Dancer," he says at last, quietly. "Ain't his real name, but that's what..." no need to speak of that. No need to speak of Gaby. "'S what he can be called. He ain't the only one, but he did this. He tore my throat open, he raped and beat my kinfolk, and he did this too. Could smell 'im."
(rune)
When at last Decker has finished his circuit of the ritual site and shifted back into homid, Rune circles back to them. Her arms are still loosely wrapped around her stomach, fingers curled over either opposite elbow.Dark eyes lid slowly as Decker offers the brief story, flickering away from him as he offers his brief tale, out of respect, perhaps. Or perhaps she doesn't want to get that involved. It's difficult to tell. "Where've you seen him?"
(james)
oh yea
very bad"Sounds like a charming guy."
dryly
then lifts a chin towards the pile of....."Do you know what it was?"
honest question
he's not sure if you can tell so long after death
quietly asked
real quiet
the bad vibes are getting worse"Cops guessed female from what they could find, plus there were some blond and gray/silver hairs but I don't know if they ever connected them to the body or the killer."
(decker)
Eyes gone the grey of gunmetal flicker up at Rune, and away. Reluctantly, "Pine Barrens." His Adam's apple moves: this was his mistake. "Followed his packmate there after I took'im down. There were others. A white one 'n a twisted fuck, but I don't know their names. Erik saw 'em too."Decker's quiet for a minute then, looking at the heaps of shredded rotted flesh and the single arch of a broken hip-bone. A shrug as he reaches forward to lift the bone up. No anatomist was he; never learned the difference between a male pelvis and a female one. He wouldn't know that the latter, which this was, flared wider, was shallower.
"Dead guy. Girl. Whatever."
Raising his head then, he looks around: left, right. "Let's get outta here."
(rune)
Rune's nod is too sharp to be casual, too casual to be sharp. She lifts her shoulders briefly, arms tightening around her stomach with the gesture, then turns and starts crossing back over the field, heading toward her car.(james)
Decker may not know, but he does
sparsely
sucking it up and finally stepping into the circle
(shudder)
musician's hand reaching to trace the bone
going back through memory files gained and stored from nights spent with the Frankenweiler Wingers in the library or museum
it's about a 50% guess
but this would definitely have let the cops know who they were burying"I'll catch up in a minute."
the webset shrugged off and a single rebar stick plucked free, the rest tossed towards Decker
second-hand gray shirt stripped
it may be an Unholy place
but they dug her up
she's gotta be reburied
(decker)
Decker catches it, stopping to watch James.The burying of the dead. The young Bone Gnawer does it with such unthinking solemnity that Decker almost feels shamed for letting it lie like that; for saying what he does, "Take the bone. Maybe Livin'ston's spirits can make somethin' of it."
(madison cassidy)
~ She is dressed in a Chaosgirl T-shirt and a pair of flared jeans…carrying a backpack…she has long jet black hair…with a white streak down the side. (battle wound) She is only 21, but has been through shit most 21 year olds haven’t…her green eyes sparkle and she carries herself with confidence~
This confidence however different then any who used to know her…
Athletic and toned, she doesn’t look like one to mess with…Something about the way she carries herself, or the way she looks at you…strength exposed in each step and movement, her pure breed apparent.North Jersey...what the hell was she doing in north jersey
Looking for Erik of course...She walks up the street...slowly, taking in the sights, she hadnt been here much, she spent most of her time in the woods lately...but her training was on hold for a few days, and she couldnt help but need some excitement...
Gabe can be pretty boring, almost fatherlike (sick thought)
She missed the old days, the wild nights of partying...the whole life she lived in Grendel Park..butnow was the present, (redundant) and here she was..might as well make the best of it...
(james)
there's a pause, in gathering what's left of the once-womangirl into the folds of his shirt
nodding to leave the bone out
the rest wrapped into a neat gray packagebut he doesn't place her back into the ground where they're at
instead carting his little bundle paces outside the circle
outside the ritual
outside the taint
outside the curse that must lay upon that groundand it's when his back is turned the rites of wounding show
the charcoal and ash rubbed into the wounds from a battle long passed
when he lost everythingunwrapping one end of the remaining drumstick it's used to gouge a hole from Gaia's skin
just big enough for the remains
its not the first stranger or friend the young Gnawer has buried
either in the wild or city streets
it's quick
silent
a passing thought
he knows it won't be the lastrising and tucking the rebar beneath an elbow to rewrap the end as he walks back to the truck
watching the ground"Let's roll."
(decker)
Silently handing the bundle back to James, Decker scoops the bone up, lingering until the last of the pack had gone before he too turns and walks away from the tainted circle.A block away, his mind begins to ease. Two blocks away, the weight lifts from his shoulders and he rolls them, tilting his head this way and that to loosen up bunched muscles. Fucked-up shit...
The walk back to the truck is silent. None of them seemed to want to say much. When they get there, the three boys pile into the truck, Rune into the Beemer. Decker starts up the ignition and waits for the engine to heat up while whomever wanted to buckled themselves up. Finally, throwing the brake down and easing out of the parallel-park, he starts them rolling home.
(madison)
No sign of Erik, she knew he came out here, but who the fuck knows where he was now...
fuck it
Time to head back..she wasnt going to risk dealing with crap in north jersey...Posted by james at 12:00 AMSeptember 26, 2002.09.26.02. - eagle's chosen [pack forms](decker)
8:30pm. A few days past the equinox, the sun's already long below the horizon. The meeting spot's an empty lot behind a hulking delapidated warehouse, illuminated by a few distant, sickly yellow streetlamps.Decker, Lucian and Erik are the first on the scene, pulling up in a clanking rust bucket that might've once been a sky-blue Ford truck. Erik's got shotgun, Decker's got driver's, and Luc is sandwiched in between on the bench seat. The faux leather is cracked and springs jut out uncomfortably.
Stopping the car without switching off the headlights, Decker muscles his door open and gets out, slamming the door shut immediately after. Erik, just as quiet but a little more courteous, leaves his door open for Luc. The asphalt under their feet is potholed and cracked from years of use and disuse. Empty cans, wind and the distant sound of the street are the only interruptions to the silence.
(lucian)
He jumps out on Erik side rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand. Officially the one with the least juice in the group--fuckin fantastic. Spitting out the small toothpick he had been mangling for the last half hour her circles round the back of the pick up and leans against the fender.
(james)
the Z-3 isn't far behind, rustbucket blue clearing the way for metallic purple pristine paint, shined wheels, rollin' with the top down
note the lack of a death grip on the passenger door handle
Rune remebered to turn her headlights on early (helps with those auto features the new-fangled expensive type cars have) and he's sure the seatbelts work, the pack left behind in consideration of the car's interior, he even made sure to wipe his second hand Cochran's before stepping in, fingers laced between his skull and the headrest, light brown dreadlocks tied back beneath a bandana as the tophat just wouldn't have workedit's all good
the potholes avoided and oiled brakes let the car slide to a stop, he's out a few seconds after Rune, her posh fasion compared to his surplus store scrounging, hands slipping into the pockets of black BDUs
(decker)
Decker and Erik, the former prowling across the headlight beams, the latter leaning against the hood between them, nod at Rune and James almost as one. Decker glances up at the moon, roughly half-full, and Erik glances at his watch. One more guy and they're good to go.Livingston Bramble. Ghetto grunge thug. Dreads and ratty clothes and a mouth to make a sailor blush. God knows where he came from or what his real name is, but he's an acquaintance of Rune's, and they needed a Theurge.
Ten, twenty minutes later, footsteps scraping around the side of the warehouse. Decker stops his pacing and looks up. The sixth member of the pack. Everyone was accounted for.
"All right," says Erik, "let's do this."
(lucian)
A match (from god knows where..) is lit against the fender setting cancer-stick ablaze as the man ambles back to the front. He eyes torn from the girl across the street reluctantly...(decker)
"Watch the fuckin' paint," mutters Decker without looking around. Not that there was much paint left the watch, but it was the principle of the gesture.Ambling into the warehouse (funny how there were always so many of these conveniently abandoned), coughing lightly in the dust drifting in the air, Decker cracks neck, knuckles, shoulders and back, limbering up as though for a good fight. They said Eagle was a hardnosed totem. Might require some sort of chiminage from the ones petitioning him.
(james)
"About fucking time." whiplashed from those lips in the neverending luminous smirk, Rune watching the arrival then back to the boys gathered to playthe Gnawer, though, only smiles a bit
watching, waiting, learning as he goes
not necessarily skulking back in the shadows, but he knows he isn't head honcho with this group so isn't about to step foreward with anything just yet
but its his stance that has changed, still outwardly calm, still with that easy smile, t-shirt betraying the build a life on the streets has granted that's normally hidden by the Alice pack and his coat, he almost looks like he belongs in that surplus gearhe's not planning on failing, no matter how tough they say Eagle is
no doubt, if anything, he's a scrapper as guttertrenched and brawly as they come(lucian)
"What paint?"He grumbles under his breath. (fuckin fosterns think they KNOW everything.) and follows the trio inside still sucking the smoke into his lungs with slow pleasure. He's usually the last of the group, the last to do everything--taking up the rear, thats his job.
(rune)
"You can fuck with his paint," the briefest glance flashed back to the emptied lot through the shipping bay door now sliding back down, the shriek of rust and metal protesting the rare abusive use. "...just stay away from mine."It's a narrow-eyed glance she shoots around the assembled, before tap-tap-tapping out a cancer stick. Cigarette perched between her lips, half-suspended in the act of lighting up, "...we doin' this?"
Pack shit. It made her nervous. It made her very fucking nervous.
(decker)
A loud snort from Decker, up ahead in the near-total darkness inside the warehouse. The scritching click of a cheap Bic lighter. Fiat lux, motherfuckers: Erik enters with with his lighter held high like at a Queen concert, the tiny flame giving pitiful light to a radius of perhaps six feet.Revealed: Decker crouched on the ground, one knee folded up; Livingston two steps through the door, sizing the place up. After a moment, he shakes his head.
"It ain't gon fuckin' work, assholes," decides Livingston. "Ya cain't call no fuckin Eagle from inside a fuckin warehouse. I'ma go outside, a'ight?"
Decker and Erik exchange looks, mutter, get up, and head out again.
(james)
she's not the only one nervous, but he doesn't let it show
falling in just behind the Walker
too bad he doesn't smoke
probably the only one in the pack that doesn't, by the looks of it
probably the only one that doesn't swear like a three dollar whore, eitherbut it's livin'
learnin'
new Stuffand that's what's important
not to mention the irony of it all
that's the kicker(lucian)
"Pssshct!"He shoulda' stayed outside with taht hottie who was casin' his shit. Blue eyes roll into the back of his head and the yankees cap is pulled lower over squared features. Back outside again--its like fuckin' Simon says.
"..If you let me drive that shit you gotta deal, chick."
(rune)
Rune swings after them, shaking her head. Her dark mane swings with the gesture, and she has to shift a pale hand through her hair to get the stray strands outta her face. She takes another long hard drag off the cigarette and crouches, then jumps off the shipping dock with an utter ease of motion, dressed tonight in the loose jeans, t-shirt and boots that are dedicated to her just in case.In other words: slummin'.
"You'll keep your filthy fuckin' hands off'a her, is what you'll do," she says, exhaling a stream of gray smoke. "And then I'll let you fuckin' live."
(sal)
:: pulls his luxury car into the lot outside the warehouse farm opens toor slowly and shuts it quickly with an audible thump talking quickly to on of two shadowed figures on the inside ::"yeah i heard palmice say somthin about a shitload of crates fulla' shit... yeah shit we can sell. HEY who's the boss here... i'lll fuggin be back okay!?
:: he whistles quietly as he walks toward the first warehouse his steps tip- tapping as he goes ::
(decker)
"Wouldn't touch her car if I was you," mutters Decker as he moves past Lucian, just the faintest quirk of a smirk hooking his mouth at the end of it.Outside, Livingston paces in a wide circle and then nods. "Yeah, yeah, this's good. A'ight." Eyelids shut. Feet braced. Palms skyward, eyes moving behind the screen of their lids. Doing the Theurge thing.
Erik is intent, alert, ready. Decker sinks to a crouch again, idly scratching at the bigass scab just about to come off his gut, watching through heavy-lidded eyes, somewhere between bored, apathetic and (eternally) pissed off.
Gradually, the six grow aware of a seventh, greater than all of them put together, more massive, endless. The screeching of a car's tires a block away might be the scream of an eagle as large as the sky. The sudden, unexplainable implosion of the nearest streetlight might be the glint of a huge golden eye.
(lucian)
Ducking.He smirks (...moon dancer.) and reaches downward grabbing at his crotch as lips blow a kiss to Rune. (Feisty, yeah thats hot... Rrrrrr.) and when he's a safe distance away a low whistle ensues...
"You know you want it, chick."
(sal)
:: looks over to the other end of the lot as a streetlight violently explodes and takes a step back muttering ::"god i fuggin hate fire..."
:: he looks around now suspicious of the area around him ::
(james)
the boyman folds into a crouch, watching
head tilting as fingers splay across the ground
there's a rhythm herea bone rhythm
fingertips softly mimicing the pulsewingbeatflapstaccatotempo that's shuddering up through something deeper than even the unsseen that gathers all around them, near silent cadence against cracked asphalt
eagle's scream slicing over the treetops of the concrete jungle
gathering on the boondock pride and highrise junkies
the urban and the primitive wrapped all into a single entity
(rune)
"...the fuck I let myself get talked into this?" she asks - the stars, the moon, the others, any friendly spirit that might be listening. Whoever.The sour taste in her mouth is familiar as the contours of her own body, and bitter as ash, and Rune swallows hard against it. She's in the middle of sucking down a long hard drag off'a her Sobrainie (hot pink, this one), but then she feels it. Feels - that - thing greater than any of them, swallowing the whole goddamned sky, and the half-lit cigarette falls from nerveless fingers to the brown weeds carpeting the lot. Unconsciously, Rune draws herself up, opens her arms.
Waits.
Waits.(sal)
(( so srry!! i gtg ))
:: walks slowly then breaking to a run back to the vehicle and opens the door looking around 360 once then climbing inside ::"there's nothing... here.. yeah nothin'. And I don't like bein this far out of AC, and we got much more important work there"
(decker)
A gust of wind, sudden and fierce, as though massive, invisible wings descended from the sky. The ground trembles gently, as though from talons of a primordial beast sinking into it. They feel it - a bulging in their minds, a pressure almost like that of the air upon the eardrums in an airplane climbing too fast.A roaring in their ears makes normal conversation impossible. At the center of the loose circle formed instinctively by the would-be pack, Livingston shouts over the noise in their heads:
"Cross over! Go Umbral!"
What, here in the middle of the city? Decker glances up, one hand holding his too-full head, and grunts. His extremities begin to go transparent as he pushes against the Gauntlet, the passage harder for him than it is for many others more attuned to the other-world.
(lucian)
Like dust in the wind..only less poetic. A wind blows and the group of them have vanish (..not so simply..) have faded into another phase of reality, truth of the spirit. He stares into the reflecyive surface of his lighter and is immediatly struct by the choking feeling of webbing and taint--one cough than another..
Can he keep pace with an eagle?
(rune)
Fuck. Muttered, instinctive, the half-voiced curse that no one else will hear, as she pulls a small compact outta her left hip pocket. The gauntlet is heavy and thick in this place, viscous, with the lumpy texture of cottage cheese. Dark eyes half-closing with the strain of it, she pushes through and out with her mind, grunting under her breath with the effort, struggling to remember to breathe and to control the rising panic when her passage is so damn slow.
(james)
is there anything wrong with in the middle of the city?
ya just gotta be smooth, man, smoothcourse, considering....
it doesn't take him long to follow the order of the hour, a thought, a tune, a last glance to the end of the world as he so far knows it, and pressure increases across splayed fingers on the asphalt scab, thinning, slimming, smooooooothing out before weight shifts backwards to let the Decayed Jungle's Child step on through to the other side
if foreward is too thick, take a dive to the side
think like the eagle
move like the eagle
keep up with the eagleor some jive like that
(decker)
...and the instant they cross, they are quite literally impaled on the talons of the Eagle.A great, ghostly presence looms in the air amongst all the steel-sheened webs: bright and nearly solid where the light of Luna falls; completely transparent where shadows ought to lie. A great eagle seen through the impressionist's eye, here a crest of wing; there a gleaming golden eye - and everywhere, everywhere, the beating tornado of his wings, the clutching grasp of his talons seizing them, sinking deep into flesh.
It's an odd sight, that. Where the Eagle is transparent, blood wells from invisible wounds - stigmata - gouged by invisible claws. Grasped, taken like rag dolls, lifted into the sky by the powerful beat of wings spanning the horizons, they are utterly powerless to resist.
Batter my heart, three-personed God...
...or batter their bodies, as he will. The Theurge, Livingston, shudders violently. His eyes roll back into his head and his mouth opens wide, issuing the piercing cry of an eagle that swells from all about them, that vibrates to the cores of each their bodies.
(Then spoke the thunder.)
And then speaks the Theurge, his words comprehensible, forming strange overlay with the words of the great Totem echoing like distant thunder, slicing like the cry of a thousand eagles. He speaks, without accent, without inflection, without himself:
"WHY SEEK THE EAGLE?"
(james)
dark eyes stumble half closed, the Ahroun twisting in talon's implosive grip, powerful vibrations turning into the most spectacular rhythms
heartbeat forced to fall in time with the thunderous tornado of each beat that lifts them higher into oblivious horizons filled only with that piercing cry beneath the featherdown comforter of an endless wingspan
heartstopping
bonebreaking
mindjarringcan ya handle it?
oh yes
there's a cool confidence in the Bone Gnawer, putting together the impressionistic pieces to find the spirit as a whole, to gather everywhere into one, just think, therefore it is, but god this is gonna hurt laterhe doesn't say a word
it's already knowntheir rhyme, reason, hearts, souls, and every finite intent is laid out transparent
all at once
they couldn't have practiced it betterpack. guidance. we heed your strength. we need your wisdom. we ask your favor.
(decker)
One by one, they shift into their warforms to confront the wartotem, perhaps not of their own will: Decker, steel-grey and white; Lucian, steel-grey and dark; Erik, steel-grey and grey. And the focus on the hurricane, the mouth of the thunder: Livingston, mottled greyblackbrownred and white.Words tumble from their lips, some torn grudging, some spilling forth, all certain and sure. Pack. Favor. Totem. Pack.
And those great golden eyes turn upon them, each in turn: boring through the skin, peeling away the lies, shearing them down to the core of who, what they are, casting away the human and the wolf and the masks and the facades they wear to pass unnoticed through life, until they are as bare as they will ever be, before or hence.
And, though already he knew the answer, Eagle speaks, and Livingston echoes:
"WHY SHOULD THE EAGLE SEEK YOU?"
(rune)
Breathing. Breathing. Breathing....barely. Short sharp and shallow, whuffing little breaths sucked in through her nose and exhaled between bare teeth. Rune's mind is a half-broken kalaidescope, the mirror missing, the elegant fractals degenerated into a mottled, blobby tangle of dingy colors. Whatever she says, the truth is there - laid bare across her half-flayed soul. Eagle shouldn't seek her, shouldn't seek her, shouldn't see her and well she knows it. Muffled and misshapen beneath half-a-dozen winding layers of sensation and half-assed façades, the truth is there. Hero they said. Miserable fool, she knows.
(james)
he gives in
he knew it would happen
mouse brown exchanges itself for his clothes, chest heaving as the air is sucked away, bones reshaped as putty beneath the almighty power, sculpted into everything and flattened to what there was even before his creation, his First Shift, his acceptances and rejectionsnothing but the Endless.
and the Bone Gnawer smiles
letting the Eagle see His answer(decker)
Decker spits the words defiant: Because I am strong! - even as the rest of those who would henceforth be his pack give their own, various answers. Some speak of strength; others of wisdom; still others of courage, hope, determination...and some remain silent."THERE ARE NO SECRETS IN THE PACK." These words skewer the ones who do not speak almost as physically as they seem to skewer the Theurge, who is arched as taut as a bowstring, played like a violin, like a puppet, by the great spirit who speaks now, personally and deafeningly, through his tearing vocal cords. "I SEE ALL SECRETS. I KNOW ALL TRUTHS. I DESTROY ALL DECEIT."
"I WILL TELL YOU WHY. "
"YOU ARE INDULGENCE WITHOUT COURAGE." These words crush through their ears, but most particularly Rune's. "I WILL GIVE YOU STRENGTH.
"YOU ARE STRENGTH WITHOUT PATH." Decker. "I WILL GIVE YOU WISDOM.
"YOU ARE WISDOM WITHOUT ROOT." Livingston. "I WILL GIVE YOU PURPOSE.
"YOU ARE PURPOSE WITHOUT TOLERANCE." James - and this, perhaps, is surprising to the most easygoing of the pack. "I WILL GIVE YOU COMPASSION.
"YOUR COMPASSION TWISTS INTO YOUR ENDS." Lucian. "I WILL GIVE YOU HONOR.
"AND YOU." Erik, the would-be Alpha. "YOU ARE HONOR WITHOUT PACK. I WILL GIVE YOU A PACK."
White light.
White noise.Wings, feathers, and the sense of something wide as the sky lancing in through the invisible puncture wounds at their solar plexi, tearing through them, branding them, destroying them, remaking them - becoming a part of them.
(rune)
It fills her, fire this, lightning stuff without form or substance into the deep black emptyness lodged somewhere between breast and gut. She convulses around it, bleeding, choking on Eagle's truths, which are no less bitter than her own matchless, unearthed lies.The scar tissue is fibrous, but not yet calloused, here and there still pink and raw and tender as the day it began coiling around some festering splinter of despair. She can no longer breathe, or perhaps it is more painful to breathe than not, and only when her lungs are screaming and her reflexes take over does she suck in a screaming lungful of air.
and another.
and another.
mouth open in a rictus of a silent scream, teeth bared, truth bared.
(james)
white light
white heat
white noisewhite trashed
he had nothing to hide
he bared everything, without fear, without fight, without worry
the garou convulses as the words thrum in his ears, vibrating from the tips of the dreadlocks that never quite went away to the points of taloned toes
surprise finds its way into rolling eyes
it was not the fault he expected the spirit to see
perhaps it, then, was not his worsteperhaps he will not make the same mistakes again
out of compassion, there is hopebranded
brand sonthe play on words a circle, a drum circle, something instinctively formed by the would-be pack, i will give you a pack, out of the many, they have become one, the one now joins the many in blinding heat melting everything together in the sudden vicious destruction begetting the grandest creation
pack
(decker)
"YOU UNDERSTAND.
THEN FLY!"The talons piercing them through the breast, through the plexus, through the heart withdraw suddenly and completely. Abandoned, cast away, thrown from the nest to fly -
They fall.
The Umbral moon is large as the earth. The ground rushes up to meet them, trees as sharp as stakes, rocks as vicious as teeth. They fall, and eventually, no matter how brave, they scream - they must scream - and, screaming, they hear the call of Eagle in their own voices, feel the pain of feathers pushing through flesh even as the earth yawns wide to devour them.
They hit the ground,
and all is black....
Black like asphalt.
Black like a night in which every streetlight within five blocks has mysteriously burst.
Black like the afterstink of lightning.
Black like singed hair.
Black like the void of the stars, where the moon is the eye of the Eagle.They find themselves alive - together - sprawled facedown on the ground. Decker's truck still idles. Its headlights still glare blankly at the wall of the warehouse. Turning over, they will find a tiny scar in the shape of Eagle's glyph branded over their breastbone, and though their memories may already be vague, they will always bear this as reminder of who they are.
Eagle's Chosen.
Posted by james at 12:00 AMSeptember 25, 2002.09.25.02. - ride home? [decker-gabe-rune-others][pine barrens]
(varg)
[...scent stronger, harsher...]wyrm and weaver clutters the damp muzzle... damp from lukewarm blood... a carcass stained with black soil limply hanging from the wolfs jaws...
[...Man not here, no scent... but trail warmer...]
... a cold breeze cut through clouds of unrest and brought more stinging smells from the city... Man had been gone for two moons now and the uncomfort and insecurity from losing a packmate grew stronger with every nightfall...
(decker)
Somewhere out in the woods, perhaps close enough for a perceptive lupine to hear, the young Modi tramples down a long-abandoned path. Indians trails, people called 'em, but usually they were wrong. Deer trails, maybe.Loosely swinging at his side is a crowbar, the hooked end rusted suspiciously red. He isn't a ghost; he doesn't move quietly. Fallen leaves rustle under his feet and crunch to dust.
This ain't no nature walk. He was taking a shortcut, and that was all. Point A to point B. Scope out the abandoned cabin. See if he could settle there, at least part-time. Something like that...
(james)
now there are those that are comfortable in the woods, and others that are comfortable in the city - and sometimes, you come across those that are equally adept at functioning pristinely in any environment you throw them intothe man perched crosslegged on top of a boulder is not one of them
he's comfortable out here, by all means, but he's obviously not quite at home, the patchwork tophat lays on the granite beside curled thigh, second hand black BDUs, tattered longcoat, and bag of beef jerkey sorta stick out like a sore thumb among the more trendy forest fashions and gear
the Alice pack seems to fit in, but those rebar drumsticks seem a bit odd
but he's having a snack, and doesn't damn well care about fitting in
does he(starling)
Adding sticks to the hot coals in the bed of the firepit. Getting things going for making dinner. Hoping to have it all done and cleaned up before dark this time. A shaft of sunlight weaving through the trees to touch her hair, giving the ebon mass a bluish tint like the wing of a bird or oil in a puddle of rain water.(varg)
[...markings, manmarkings...]...the parcel of flesh slumped from yellow teeth to brown moss, the impact letting a wet sound slip... the brown-and-grey-flecked, heavy wolfhead shook, as if all sensory inputs offered to him would give them a more promising meaning... crimsontabgled paws scrapes the soft earth to the side to create a shallow grave for the deceased...
[...greet at dusk... good place to rest... need strength to chiminage...]
...the male tucks the rabbit in with arrogant haste... slyly he gazes around in search of drier ground, finds it and pads over with muzzle bobbing just a few inches over the ground... crashing the brawny body into a group of brackens, he intently rubs palt and his own scent into the vegetation...
[...approach...]
...the sensation shoots through his predatory mind the very instant sounds of someone moving through the autumnscene reaches his now perked ears... with startled speed he springs to all four, ears and muzzle pinpointing the direction of the source...
[...two legs...]
...the analysis is fairly accurate since Decker at least for the moment has chosen to walk like a man... a deep rumble is soon born from the animals insides, gaining amplitude as it carries over the sounds of the land... an inquiry mixed with confidence of his claims...
(decker)
--and stop.The crowbar ceases its lazy pendular swing; the lowslung, thuggish slow-swagger of the thug's shoulders ceases. Did he hear a fuckin' growl?
Drawn into himself, coiled, his grey eyes flicker over the foliage as he turns in a slow circle. Gradually, almost lazily, the crowbar comes up to rest its ridged iron shaft against his shoulder. The posture makes the place of the out-of-place tool quite clear: weapon.
Perhaps that explains the flaking dull red-brownness at the claw end.
(starling)
Rising after a few moments. Brushing her hands against each other to knock the dirt from them while heading for the ladder leading up into the tree fort.(erik)
A man walks up Deckers backtrail, following unerringly.(varg)
[...no sound, recognized...]...rapid movement carrying a few feet closer before he echoes his previous growl, adding edge to clearly present his state of emotion... the canine was tired, and tired males tend to become protective of their position, and his ways of keeping position was through violence... unforgiving, swift violence without reflection or conscience... ears flick back over his long head and then back, greyish toungue rolling out to quench a yawn before it slips back behind clenched jaws...
(james)
the song of deadly growls, the translucence of a strange piece of metal into a brandished weapon draped in the approaching fall's colors, and even the scents of roasting coals rising into the night's breeze tickling through the treeze are somewhat lost on the boyman with the dreadlocks on the rocksfresh jerky
moist
chewy
pungentcan anyone ask for more?
..... oooh, a milkshake.
but one's not going to find a milkshake out here in the boonies, is one, so with a bit of a sigh and a stretch to jangle the change in one of the many resident pockets, Cochrans drop off the boulders to bounce onto the ground
"Eighty-five..... ninety-five..... buck thirty... fifty.... well Jamey-boy it seems worth the walk."
(decker)
You have got.Up and up swings the crowbar, back along his neck until he can reach up and grab it with the other hand. Thus self-crucified, both hands exerting equal pull on the crowbar (good position to start a fight: he lets go with left hand, right hand carries the momentum into an arc and - crunch.), he turns toward the direction of the growl.
.to be kidding him.
The growl was a wolf; he could tell that much. And so he replies accordingly, strange non-human non-wolf sounds tumbling from his human lips. If you understand this, show yourself or back off, wolf.
Funny how there aren't any accents in garouspeak.
(erik)
Knowing without fail the exact direction of his quarry, he is able to move swiftly while retaining a fair amount of secrecy. Those of the black moon like to move quietly. And having the use of the wolf shape, with its black coat, he does this well.(starling)
This was a climb she did many times daily and even in the middle of the night when nature called and couldn't be ignored. Brows furrowing as she climbs upwards. Not sure, but she thought she heard something out there. Never hurt to be safe though. Immediately going to get the shotgun and set it near the opening in the floor before gathering foodstuffs, dishes, pots and utensils to cook the meal. Loading everything in the basket to lower slowly to the ground below. Everything but the gun that is. She didn't want to have the gun fall out and discharge, maybe shooting herself.(james)
after gathering the Alice pack and resituating the tophat where it belongs, and a breif pause to check himself, he heads...thattaway!
which should be the way back to the city
should
and when one is raised in the city, with the awful city noises to cover footsteps and scents and every other sort of nugget of information that screams "hello! I'm approaching" - well - sure makes for a somewhat noisy passage through the normally oh so silent woods, not that he's crashing through the trees, but one can make Cochrans only so quite when following nothing that resembles a trail and is littered with twigs and leaves and the occasional rock and any manner of other noise-producing natural occurances(warg)
[...human...disappointment...]..the shape of his approach route is arced, slowly stalking into sight...
[...weavertool...alone, lacking packmates?...]
...shoulderblades rasing and sinking as he paces back and forth in front of the man, yellow eyes drifting from weavertool to the mans eyes in an daring manner... yips and rumblings emits from his blackgummed mouth in an unrythmical staccato...
"Alone?... Position? Name?"
(decker)
As the wolf approaches slantwise, Decker cocks his head to the side, storm-grey eyes flickering over the beast. All right, he'll play along.For now. Fostern Modi. He speaks his new rank, just a few days old, with no particular (obvious) pride. The young ones did always grow so fast. Grow up to fight. Grow up to die. 'Silence'. You?
(erik)
Slowly now, the black wolf creeps up on Decker and Varg.(james)
over the river and through the woods where milkshakes abound we go..... or..... something like that, lips pursing into a rather bright rendition of "Julia" whistled somewhat under his breath, the tune broken only by the slight smile of finding a trail (eureka!) which, after another quick check (Mother Rat, which way are you......) the boyman carries on
sally forth
and all that
not quite at the point of hearing the voices ahead, not yet(varg)
[...Modi, like Man...]...the yellowbellied male freezes for an instant, looking like he was quenching a sneeze... a shut for a good second before he returns the introduction...
"Fostern Wolf born of Wolves... Under no...moon born... Wolverines-Bane"
[...new scent...]
...ending up still, facing the weaverclad man the rotagar becomes instinctively aware of another presence close by... the animals gaze lowers to the chest but the his eyes doesn't leave to search for the other one... it would be a selfinflicted insult to his olfactorian sense...
(decker)
Two approaching, one loud, one silent. Decker is oblivious to the presence of the second, but the first - he shoots a glance in the direction of James' footsteps. Damn. The boy moved louder than he did. Decker didn't recall anyone in the forest moving that loud. Most of 'em here were Indian brave-types, quiet as phantoms.Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, the young Modi, who is built like a stone wall compressed into his shy-of-six-feet frame, also looks away, but not out of any particular awareness of dominance etiquette. The ways of wolf do not come instinctively to him; he lived fifteen years and was a man grown when he Firsted. The blood of his first kill was already on his hands by then.
Varg's awareness makes the hair at the back of his neck tingle. He hears one, but instinct spoke of another which he could not sense.
Wolverine's Bane, he repeats. Alone as well?
(varg)
[...more scents, a pack?...]...unintentively delaying the answer as he broke the visual link between 'Silence' and himself... intensly, on the brink of desperately, he takes snapshots of the dark surrounding, instincts drawing maps of possible routes for ambushes...these basic elements of logic were new and unnatural to him, though he had learned to use them to his advantage... with ears drawn firmly back over his ears, clearly displaying his distrust of the entire sitaution he growls, quieter then first intended...
"Two moons... Man gone, search"
(james)
yes, move loudly, and most normal skittish forest folk and predators will then move away from you, not to mention the reek of the city helps, and those that stay behind are hopefully intelligent enough to reason with and move on, if not, we'll hope they're a far cry slowerelsewise - we're screwed!
but that thought isn't quite at the forefront of the boyman's mind, rather he's wrapped up in the sweet strains of Julia and the even sweeter thoughts of gooey caramel draping vanilla and chocolate and ice cream and malt and and and
okay, now the voices key in
and the whistle stops - even if a day late and a dollar short
footsteps slowing
but there really isn't any cause as that won't be any help, he's made enough racket, so shoulders more muscular than they would appear to be adjust beneath Alice's straps and he sorta keeps on movin' on, might as well carry on like we meant to do itif it works for cats, it works for him
besides, if opportunity knocks, so did he, so he can't be blamed for skulking around in the shadows like some pretentious self-proclaimed lord of them, now can he
(decker)
As Erik approaches, both the wolves can read a certain change in the stance of the Modi. Less aggressive (though such things are relative for Decker); comforted by the presence of the one he knows. He is, after all, Garou, and Garou move in packs. Even if he and Erik are not a true pack, they had watched one another's backs, and that meant much to those born to Fenris.Who is Man? - blunt, the question; his always are. The crowbar comes off his shoulders down, released to hang again at his side, loose.
(rune)
Three approaching. One loud, one silent, and one really, really loud. I-hate-this-goddamned-place sort of crashing through the underbrush loud, sounding less like a woman than, say, an huge-ass Suburban gone off-road.Rune saunters through the underbrush, cursing just beneath the cusp of her breath. Whenever some trailing branch snags her hair, or her white silk shell, or anything else, she gives full voice to her ongoing underbreath color commentary, which is filthy enough to make a sailor blush. Something about... ...well, best not to think about it, really. Best not to think about it at all.
(varg)
[...Wolf! No...]...the true breed of the newly arrival is frappant to his senses rewarding him with even more unease... the displeasing scenario reflects unmasked on his movingpattens and posture as it grows more and more hostile, agressive... and the rustling sounds of strides taken on dry leaves doesn't help either... instantly responding to Deckers movement with his own skittish jump, but the question sooths him... temporarily...
"Man packmate...lost...tracks old"
(starling)
Using a long handled spoon to stir the contents of the pot between adding onions, salt, pepper, carrots, potatoes. The outside of the pot turning black as the flames lick upwards. Pot suspended just above the flames, swaying slightly with the stirring.(decker)
Decker grunts. Tough luck, that. Not that he hadn't been somewhat abandoned by his Alpha. Then again, her brother died. Guess she went home to mourn him.Thoughts unspoken. Decker just moves his shoulders in a shrug, perhaps incomprehensible to the wolf-mind. Still looking for him? Or...?
Quieting, he looks silently in the direction of the crashing. Ten bucks says it's Rune. Only she managed to sound so pissed stomping through the woods. On the off chance it wasn't her but some lost camper, though, he wasn't going to be caught barking and yipping at a wolf.
Maybe Erik had the right idea, slipping away like that. He never even saw the Rotagar go.
(james)
on a whim (a chance and a prayer) another whistle breaks forth
you just don't sneak up on people in the forest
can get one shot
or worseand while knowing he's made enough noise to guarantee game isn't going to relax for a good distance, it would still just be rude, cause they can't be more than up around that next curve, honestly, even if he's not exactly sure how sound carries through the trees, he just knows it does, and that's good enough
at least he's not the loudest trekker of the evening
(starling)
Lifting her head with a frown with all the sounds out there this evening. It was usually fairly quiet with small rustlings and the sound of birds, frogs and insects. Reaching over to make sure the gun was within easy reach. With the weird things that had happened, she wasn't going to take chances.(decker)
(You lookin' at me?)Eye contact wasn't much for him, but a glare was. A glare, a growl. He doesn't react quick to that; no, he moves slow, easy, contemptuous, tilting his chin up an arrogant inch. No one, no Shadow Lord, no Silver Fang, had mastered looking down his nose at another quite the way Decker had.
How long's it been? Probably dead.
(gabriel)
The sweet scent of the realm of spirit carries with it the refreshing breath of new life and unlimited possibility. Here true depth of vision and heart can be addressed, here is where the beginning and the End are always one, here is the place of legends and of rebirth.The meditation ends as the large irishmen begins once more back into the realm of the Real. Shifting through the planes of exsistance he enters into the park, into his camp.
Casting a look around he noticed that his packmate is not to be seen this night. ~Good~ he thought... she needed time on her own for a while.
It was then that the familuar spirit of the wood, the one whom he had come to know quite well began to whisper to him... drawing him through the wood as he began to approach the others.
(rune)
Poor Decker. There's no one to take him up on his bet, unless he wants to try to swindle the lupus.Scrambling over a tangle of deadfall, Rune comes into view. She smells of cigarette smoke, with the spiky suggestion of something sharp and sweet among them dressed casually enough, in a pair of sleek black leather pants, a sleeveless white shirt, and the pair of black leather boots she keeps in her trunk for just such an occasion. Her Manolo Blahniks dangle from her fingers, a twinned pair of finely crafted torture devices that look devastatingly good on bare feet. Too bad she can't hike in them.
Her head cocks to the side, catching the corner of a whistle (?) beneath the loud jangle of her passing.
)gabe)
It didn't take him long to cross the ground between them. Approaching the area of the others he paused upon the fringe, watching... listening... There were those he knew well enough as well as those whom he had not met yet and wanted to gauge for himself what type they were before entering fully.(starling)
She was still some distance off in the area of the tree fort. Hearing odd sounds now and then, but nothing she could hear clear enough to put a name to it. Thinking maybe it was her imagination in overtime.(varg)
[...honorless...]...in the grey mass that was the nightair something flashed, a yellow stripe drawn between where Deckers chest is and the predators eyes were a split-second ago... the snarl is abruptly cut off into a gurgle as his teeth sink into the mans collarbone, pressing down with a full-grown male wolfs entire might... two paws heavily planted on shoulders and ribcage, two kicking spastically in search of ripping groin and belly...
...come one, come all, dispute about to be settled...
(james)
one growl
the word "dead"good enough to slow those steps a bit more, announced or not, because he's not exactly sure he wants to walk in on whatever it is that's happening up ahead, bcause it's not sounding promising
his approach now very cautious
but Gabriel's familiar scent is somewhat comforting, switching paths to come up beside the Irishman(gabe)
~Just in time it would seem~ he thought as he passed from the line to step fully into view but not intruding.Feeling James move up next to him his attention remained upon the open fight in front of him. Crossing his arms the large Irishman looked on with an even temperment. He would not intrude upon this, it was not his place... but he would ensure that it remained fair and honorable nonetheless.
(james)
there's a bit of a nod at the pseudo-acknowledgement (some things do go without saying), dreadlocks dancing on his shoulders, though he stays a halfstep behind and to the side of the Elder, only watching, learningno way in hell is he going to intrude
(rune)
What type is she?Rune looks rather like a Vogue fashion write, or some other tragically hip New York City professional, whose cute little convertible ran outta gas in the middle of nowhere and is now hiking around - blindly, cursing - and searching for a gas station in the middle of nowhere. Next time, she should just follow the strip of crumbling asphalt that passes for a road around here.
What the fuck had Decker done? Rune snorts, gaze slipping from the tangled deadfall through which she scrambles to Decker and the attacking wolf. Note to self. Wear dedicated clothes in the fucking woods, and bring a goddamned gun next time. The natives are rabid.
"...fuck," she grouches, steadying herself with one hand on the trunk of the rotting tree and swinging one leg across, then the other, as her free hand shoots out ahead of her to drop her sandals into the sparse growth beyond. She pauses to dig into her back pocket for a switchblade, for she has an interest in the outcome, but doesn't exactly want to ruin her clothes.
Yeah, she thinks like that sometimes.
(decker)
This is a rare thing.Decker is not the one to initiate attack, and this is rare. Caught momentarily off guard, the thug falls backwards, an accident which possibly saves him a good deal of damage. Before he hits the ground he's in his dire-wolf form. Black lips peel back from pink gums, white teeth as long as a man's hand is white, and lengthening: he snarls, silently, and the hush of the deep sea is upon him.
The world is red.
The world is red,
and he wants to kill for the sake of killing.Pain is a distant thing, registered but not felt. Emotion is lost; what is felt is the rip and tear of flesh, the crunch of bone as his teeth clamp shut once on a foreleg, hindleg, something - a feint to the left, then a dive for the soft underbelly - twice.
(Threefourfive?)
...no. Not yet, at least. He was learning restraint. Slowly. Braced on all fours, the Hispo-wolf shows his teeth again: Back down. Back down or I break you in half.
(gabe)
He continued to look on at the two forms and the third now. Crystal blue eyes gaze over the scene from one to the next. He knew better than to truly believe anyone as fare and slight would just "happen" to get stranded out here in what some have jokingly called the "1000 acre wood". Yet he atleast liked to see that she was trying either way.Looking on he watches as the young Get continues with the fight. Shifting and gauging his foe.
The large Irishmen all of a sudden begins to break down the fights characteristics, the stance and counterstance, the forms used to fight, the line of attack and countering moves both used and optionally thought of had "he" been in this position.
Shaking his head after a moment slowly he realized what he was doing and had to fight back the smile quickly. It had been a long time in the roll of teacher, leader, and this was neither, but always a learning oppertunity. He would save the pro's and con's of this fight for later.
(james)
a brow lifts beneath the floppy brim of the floppier hat
studying
far cry different than city brawling, that's for sure(varg)
...rolling over the falling man-turning-to-beast with jaws pasted to the targeted shoulder, the rotagar almost snaps his own neck... something that would only delay him instead of outright kill him... in order to regain some overview of the fight that odd feeling of logic kicks in again allowing him to resit the basic urge to just bite down and tear until the prey goes limp... back on all four and ready to pounce or be pounce, he swings around and faces two rows of teeth arranged to snarl and hold back instead of lashing out to kill... to this feral it was as good as any apology, no matter what human thoughts or mindpatterns that lie behind that action... or lack of action...
[...honor...]
...equally abruptly as they had clashed, they return to a more relaxed posture... as relaxed as Fenris children get... the modis confident statement will have to wait for an answer but for how long is written in the stars...
"Not dead... godi true"
...the wolf begins to pace again, careless of the audience but most likely not oblivious of their presence...
(starling)
Dividing her attention between the faint sounds and her dinner. Her full attention returning to the cooking meal now that the noises have dropped. Never certain what it was. Maybe something hunting out there for all she knew.(rune)
Rune's nostrils flare with a snorting exhale, and she shakes her head as she bends to retrieve her discarded sandals from the scrubby ground. Full red lips curve into a viscious smirk, which encompasses the Decker-the-badass-snarling-direwolf and the stranger, but does not bare teeth. If she knew much about wolfen body speech, she'd probably do that. As it is, though, she's harmless and toothless and soft and stinks of the city, cigarettes and gasoline, and some undercurrent of perfume, subtle and sandalwoody to human senses, but utterly offensive to the keen nose of a wolf.Fair perhaps she is (indeed she is, if you like that kinda thing), but she's not slight, not in the least. Perhaps an inch or two shy of six feet tall, her taut frame is toned and firm, and moves with the overt bodily confidence of a born athlete.
Charming, she thinks to herself, managing not to give voice to the caustic sentiment, and settles into a comfortable slouch against a convenient tree, running her pale white hand through her freshly dyed black hair. Look, ma. No more roots.
(decker)
Relaxation, as Varg would know, is relative. His hackles are still raised, his paws braced wide and each toe of that paw splayed, ready for violence, tingling for violence, quivering with anticipation of violence. The gash down his belly drips blood to the ground, too fast to be healthy, but he'll live. Their kind always did, it seemed.A low growl twists itself into grudging meaning as he stands down, backpedaling two steps and sitting: Maybe.
A better man than he would recognize the honor in the other. A better man than he would recognize that Varg had obeyed the unspoken laws of nature, where few beasts fight to kill. A better man than he might even offer to aid the search, but...
Across the forms he melts, pausing finally in Glabro, where he could heal, but which was still close enough to his native form to be more comfortable than his killing-forms. Those were alien, far removed and without human moral and value. Sinking to his haunches, he traces the wound staining his dedicated wifebeater red and eyes the other wordlessly for a moment before finally growing aware of the audience. A black glance is cast around at the three who watch. He spits a few human words, thick in his Glabro form, "The hell y'all gawkin' at?"
(james)
that brow lifts again..... oooh, this one is as charming as the braying jackass, if a touch more rough around the edges..... and the comment isn't returned, rather his attention turning where it should be
to Gabriel"Uncle....Arianna and I found a few things, but if now isn't a good time....."
brown gaze returning to the two recovering combatants in breif glance
(gabe)
Watching the show he mentally noted to the show of honor displayed in front of him. Even now the wreck of blood and opened wound he mearly points to Varg as the young Get speaks...Even if the city reeked upon the form of the female it was really the other softer and more defined scents that carried weight to him. Thankful that he had chosen tonight to remain in homid he would have to attone for such a thought later, but for now it was worth it. Looking at her he was pleased to see that as she came fully into respectable view that she was well defined and taller than most females he had encountered. His stature just over 6' with his broad (powerful) shoulders and chest, stood out in comparison. The scar under his right eye in the shape of a teardrop something more strange than most. Worn jeans, hiking boots and a well used flannel rolled to the elbow over a dingy white or was it grey T-shirt was the order of the day. The brownish blonde hair hung down to his shoulders once more. Still not as long as it was but atleast it was progress.
Listening to James he only nodded to the side of the man on which he stood in responce to his declaration. His attention remained on the wounded combatants and the measure of what they chose to follow up with... as well as the new arrival of the female.
(rune)
For her part, Rune remains where she is - arms crossed over her lean stomach, body cast in a negligent slouch, with the fine white silk of her designer shell catching against the rough bark of a fragrant pine. In three days, or a week, or whenever she managed to get to around to errands, the dry cleaner would see the faint staining of sap and grumble under his breath without uttering a cross word to her.She shrugs, not uneloquently, as it seemed the only appropriate response to Decker's query. Her dark eyes flicker across two men at the fringe of the small clearing, then return to Varg and Decker, bleeding onto the forest floor. Even to her blind human nose the scent of blood is sharp and jangling, but she has nothing to offer. Death is her art, not healing.
(decker)
Keeping a hand over the wound to keep it from tearing open, he sinks down on his ass and watches the wolf lick his foreleg for a minute before grunting and tearing a strip off the bottom of his shirt. There's a big red splotch of blood on it, and the spirit he'd had bound into it to dedicate it to his body wasn't going to be happy about it, but it was all he had.Want me to bind that? The offer seems to surprise him, a little. This is about as 'nice' as Decker gets. Ever.
(james)
there's a bit of a return nod, and then the young Ahroun moves off to the side a bit - not that he doesn't have anything to offer the combatants, just that he's so used to being uninvited in situations such as this that he just saves everyone the trouble and takes care of everything himself, settling the Alice pack by a tree, followed soon by his shoulder
and simply waits(varg)
(OK, Varg's post--)...something renders his world and he finds himself before an offer...
[...pity...]
...the brown-grey wolf draws back from the modi, clearly stating his views on help from non-packmates...instead the predator gets on all four, now three, and begins to limp away from the gathered... the cold night swallows him as he disappears back to the spot where he had buried his carcass, a ripegrown rabbit which he digs up with jaws and muzzle due to his unfortunate handicap... he had lost his trail for now, that soiled urrah had thrown him off track... he'd lost at least half a moon due to this incident... but he wasn't bitter, bitterness is a logical thought, one he'd still had to learn...
(decker)
As the other draws away and disappears into the wood, Decker doesn't follow. He had neither the desire nor the curiosity. If there was some grudging respect for the other's act of strength, he doesn't show it, instead silently and grimly staunching the hole in his own gut with it.Already the flow of blood was slowing. Nevertheless, he stays where he is, ignoring the watchers until he's done. There is the taste of the other's blood in his mouth, but his hands are too messy to wipe.
"Show's over, alright?" he mutters some minutes later, when the group still stands around him like some ring of inquisitors visiting doom upon the blameless.
(gabe)
The large man sez nothing, this fight was of a personal nature and ended in a respectful way. Though he would have liked to see the other recieve healing and thus live another day he could not force it upon another to take that which was not wanted.His attention instead went to the woman who stood against the tree. Dark and lovely, a femine figure of deaths embrace... he wondered if she would fit the mold, like so many others before her.
(starling)
Nudging the pot from over the flames after a final stir. Then filling a bowl to hunker down in the small ring of light cast from the fire pit. Another day and night where her roomate had vanished off into the woods or who knew where. Ever so often slapping her leg between bites. Warding off the irritating insects trying to get a meal off her while she filled her own belly.(decker)
Well, fuck. He couldn't chase all of them off. Not in this state, at least. Should've seen the attack coming; no excuse for getting caught off guard like that. Running a hand over his face and back over the dome of his head, he shakes his head quickly, almost canid. In this form, he's much larger, Neanderthalic. His hair is thick and heavy, the color of straw, extended down in sideburns that were nearly fur. Looked like a wolfman from one of those old movies, he did.Cocking an eyebrow at Rune, he shakes his head again, slower. "Fuck off." A vague jut of his jaw at Gabriel. "ThunderOak. Athro Fianna Galliard. Don't know the other one."
(gabe)
He stood for a moment then slowly turned towards James...~Yep... cookie cutter~ he thought as he moved a few steps to stand next to James.
Thick irish accent....
"May the Blessings of Gaia be with ye. What news have ya found out lad?"
(gabe)
Hearing the rough Intro from Decker he turns to face the youth...~Always when you turn to take care of something.~ he thought, waiting for the responce from the female to Deckers intro.
(james)
dark brown eyes glance up, at the approach, a breath taken to say something, but then at the turn away, he quiets
okay, chuckles a bitdamn used to being either unknown or made to wait
some things don't necessarily change once outside the city, do they(rune)
"Charmed," Rune replied, her painted red lips still curled into a patent smirk. Then she offered her own introduction, a la Decker: short, sweet, and straight to the damn point. "Rune. Fostern. Glasswalker. Ahroun."(decker)
It was something of a toss-up, of course, whether Decker's brand of short was necessarily sweet.Actually, it wasn't a toss-up. It's a certainly: his brand of short is definitely not sweet. There's very little sweet about Decker. "Drummerboy," he raises his voice just enough for James to hear: a casual sort of contempt. Nothing personal. Was just hard for him to express anything but disdain, contempt and boredom. And occasionally murderous rage. "The hell you doin' so far from the city?"
(gabe)
"Aye..."He looked at her from top to bottom then back up once more. She was the strength of the city alright,... everything he had learned from a young upstart to now a Don in his own right. Glass Walkers were a tricky breed unto themselves... treading the line on both sides of the fence.
Nodding to her gently the formality was over. Turning to face james once more fully once more he continued.
~Yep... cookie cutter it was~ he thought before continuing.
"Go on lad... I am eager for your report."
(rune)
Urrah, she thought to herself, the country cousins' usual curse a badge of pride in her book. Her dark gaze is direct, and challenging, and though she's not exactly feral, she's primal enough to avoid meeting Gabriel's eyes directly.Urrah, of course, with the stink of the city on her: cigarettes and drugs, perhaps, asphalt and gasoline, Thai take-out and manufactured scent.
"Might as well as what the fuckin' hell I'm doin' so far from the city," Rune snorts, glinting dark eyes flashing back to him like a whip. "Maybe he hiked his ass all the hell way out here to meet some ungrateful sonuvabitch."
(starling)
Cleaning up after the meal, then repeating the process of loading the basket and hauling all the stuff back up into the tree house. 99% of the time she was alone and was starting to feel like a hermit out here.(decker)
Decker's heavy grey gaze lingers on Rune for a wordless moment. Then it drifts off to the side, skimming the treeline as he sucks his molars in thought."Wanted you to meet my tribemate, Erik. He left though." Back to her: flicker up, flicker down. "Bring me a joint?"
(starling)
Lighting one of the small candles in a jar, knowing it would extinquish itself sometime in the night. Settling down on the air mattress for the night.
(james)"Well, I was going to pick a fight but it seems you got to it first."
smiled, easily, at Decker, the contempt wasn't taken personally
when you're what he is, you get used to it
comes with the territory"James, Cliath, Gnawer, Ahroun."
bottom of the totem pole, allright, in every sense
but his attention returns right quick to the Athro, and a hand reaches into one of the many pockets - he came prepared - pulling out a random assortment of clippings, newspaper articles, and even a computer printout or four"We went back a little over two months, to the beginning of August, cause that's when the barking chain started sounding a little funny..... it's mostly strings of events that are happening too close to each other to seem random." well, depends on how paranoid you are "but the most interesting was this one, the shark attack early August, right off Atlantic City. I spoke to some.... friends.... and got snippets of the report, they're summed on this sheet here. That bite wound leftover doesn't look like a shark...."
even if the authorities classified it as one
the sketch compared to a few encyclopedia photocopies points to something that's a cross between crocodilian and canid(decker)
Swinging a half-suspicious glare at James, Decker grunts. "Decker, Cli--" scratch that, "--Fostern, Modi." Etiquette all taken care of, he listens to the two converse for a moment. He was lost, looking between the elder and the younger."Fuck's this all about?"
(rune)
"Ouch, Decker," she smirks, eyes flashing briefly to James. "Seems someone else has your goddamned number, too. Gonna hafta change your modus operandi if you wanna surprise anyone out here. Maybe you could start wearing more pink. It's the new orange, doncha know."Shifting forward, Rune arches forward and squeezes her hand into the from left pocket of her tight leather pants. She pulls out a small ziplocked bag and a packet of rolling papers, then tosses them to Decker with a half-assed grin. "...course I do. You know I got yer back."
(gabe)
The brow of the larger man grows close as the scouwl of anger and rage begins to ripple up through him... then as soon as it rises it falls away once more."Aye... thank ye little brother. If you hear anything else you know where to find me."
Turning to face Decker and Rune he moved back into the small clearing.
"Decker is here upon my request and is welcome to these wood. As for the show of force, I can only say Take care in the future lad."
Casting his gaze over to Rune he looks to the bad and then to her...
"Tred well the bounds of kith and kin and whence the road of blood and pride intersect there shall be the truth of everlasting stone and steel....
"Welcome to the Wyld young GlassWalker. Be at peace and protect the mother of which you partake."Turning he begins to move off toward the trees, pausing he looks back for a moment.
"In other words lass, don't get so fucked up you wreck my park and my brethren."
Turning he walks out into the night, shifting back into lupus where he belongs and rushes out over the ground to a purer smelling place to cleanse the evenings grime from his senses.
(decker)
Scowling - Rage still running high - he shoots the Glass Walker a sullen glare, catching the bag out of the air, fumbling the packet of papers. Cursing as they scattering all over the ground, he reaches after them and stuffs them haphazardly back into their packet - wrinkled, dirty, trailing a pine needle or two.Rolling himself a joint, he doesn't bother glancing up when addressed. Couldn't expect a Fianna to understand the necessity of battle, after all. Not a Galliard, not even an Athro Galliard.
Ducks his head, licks the joint shut. Sinking down on his back (much better. Much less pressure on his gut) with a groan, he lights up against the sky, then rolls his head sideways. Eyes narrowed in thought, suspicion, or perhaps against the smoke, he nods at James.
"The hell was that all about, Gnawer?"
(rune)
"Jesus fuck," Rune laughs. Or rather snorts, in a most unladylike fashion, before stalking across the clearing to take the joint from Decker's bloodstained fingers after he has sucked in a nice lungful of the intoxicant. "What a fuckin' arrogant popinjay."She breathes in a hit and, holding the smoke, offers the joint to James.
(james)
there's a nod as Gabriel takes his leave, but that easy smile turns back to Decker"Well, Gabriel sent me to do some research in the city for him, Get, you just heard what I came back with on the first round."
though the offered joint brings him from the tree he was near and back towards them right quick
he's beginning to like people in these parts
hit, hold, crouch to pass back to Decker
exhale(decker)
That actually tore a snicker out of Decker. Folding his now-empty hands behind his head, he exhales smoke and notes the he could see his intestines poking out of the rapidly (well...relatively, at least) closing wound on his stomach. Fucking sick. Resist Pain was a wonderful thing, though."Was just makin' sure you did trash his hole, Rune," he murmurs, smirking down the length of his body at her, since she was standing somewhere near his feet. "You don't want him to piss on your stereo, he don't want you to breathe on his trees."
Turning his attention to James, then, there's a palpable drop-off in warmth - if you could call what he showed Rune warmth. Familiarity's probably a better word. "Research what?"
(rune)
"Course, I dunno what I was expectin'," Rune shrugs faintly, and (yes, still) her lips are curled into a luminous smirk. Listening to the exchanges between Decker and James, she nevertheless apparently feels honorbound to keep up a certain level of chatter to fill in the holes. Probably she was supposed to be a goddamned Ragabash, but was too mean to wait an extra week or two. Or too damn stubborn to pop on out when she was supposed to. "since Athro Fianna Ragabash is sorta the definition of arrogant popinjay. Probably have a picture of him in the OED next to that particular combination. Probably made up the goddamned words to describe that particular combination."
(james)
"The problem you have with the Choromaniacs in these parts."now, he's sure he's going to be told to fuck off in not so nice a words, but he's a Hood
and this guy's bleeding and leaking and dripping all over the place
and while it's slowing and hearling he's still poking out in places
and dammit the Gnawer can't help it"Want that stitched so you don't fall out of your skin should you have to get up and take a piss in the next three hours before it closes itself?"
seems he was only a few days shy of a Ragabash as well
he knows Decker's fully capable of healing himself
but it would just make it easier(decker)
"Galliard," mutters Decker, correcting Rune because he was feeling annoying enough to do it."Chorowhat?" - raising his head a half-inch, frowning, while he reaches for the joint. Then, lowering it back down, shutting his eyes while he takes a drag in, he snorts. Smoke puffs out of his nostrils. "Fuck no. I'm fine."
And he wasn't passing the joint, either. If Rune wanted it, she could come and get it.
(runs)
"Galliard," Rune snorts back at Decker. She'd been waiting for him to pass the damn joint, but when he does, she crosses and takes it from him. "You're a fuckin' bogart, Decker. Someday some pissy little pothead's gonna hafta teach you a fuckin' lesson."Blinking mildly, she slants her attention back to James and echoes Decker, a little more precisely for that extra annoyance factor. "Choromaniacs?"
(decker)
No reply. Just a middle finger, before he too turns his attention back to James.
(james)
"Choromaniacs."nodding, dreads swinging foreward as he stays in the comfortable crouch
he offered, it's all Mother Rat needs to know, and the refusal will be remembered
Gaia forbid anyone notice a Get in need"Maniacal Dancers, in a nutshell."
we'll forgo the actual explination, it'll be easier
"Barking Chain was talking about it all the way up to New York.... it's how I heard about it. I'm down scouting these parts."
(decker)
Wordless, he just looks James up and down and grunts. Not too impressed-sounding, either. Let Rune play the diplomat - which she wasn't, but this was one of her people. Bone Gnawers, Glass Walkers...who could tell the difference?(rune)
Probably the Glasswalkers and Bone Gnawers could. Rune sucks in another hit off the joint, and passes it off to James. She shoots a glance to Decker, then rolls her eyes.When she's passed off the joint, she squeezes her hand into her left back pocket and pulls out a business card. "Hear anything juicy, I wouldn't mind a call. Can't let the twits have all the fun."
(james)
more appropriately, any educated person could
the joint taken in one hand, the card pocketed with the other"But of course, the more the merrier, I say."
winked from beneath tophat's floppy brim, lazily hitting the joint before handing the almost roach back to Rune with a smile - not Decker, would be rude to make him sit up to reach for it, and all
and one can never be rude when one's outranked
right?
right.....(natalie)
Whoooooooooop!
Whoooooooooop!
WhooooooooooP!Uh-oh someone's alarm is going off.
(....Will the Driver a purple Mettalic BMW please go out and move your vehicle?)
(decker)
Still wordless, the Modi's ocean-grey eyes move between the two. He starts to arch his back in a stretch, then thinks better of it as a zinging reminder of pain - muted, greatly, but still there - runs a marathon up to his heart and down to his toes."Pass the joint, Rune," says Decker, quietly. Then, raising his head, "That your alarm?"
(rune)
"Cool," she murmurs in reply, hitting remnants of the joint absently before walking it back over to Decker. She actually bends down and hands the damn thing to him. Yeah, she loves waiting on him hand and foot. "You're gonna hafta burn your lily white fingers, Decker. I always come prepared, but I couldn't fit my fuckin' forceps into these fuckin' pockets."...and then the alarm goes off, screeching through the forest like a fuckin' bashee, shivering through the treetops and scattering all manner of small mammals peacefully sleeping wherever the fuck it is they sleep.
"Hell yeah, that's my alarm," Rune growls, something like a snarl twisting her features into parody of her usual easygoing smirk. She's not hard to get along with, is Rune, but she does have a few rules. Numbers one, two and three: keep your hands off her fuckin' car.
It's astounding, how fast she rises, how quickly she finds her stumbling path back through the piney woods at a groundeating lope, Mahnolo Blahniks still dangling from three fingers of her left hand.
(james)
a brow lifts at the alarm (now that's something he hasn't heard for awhile) but he doesn't really move
course.... that does leave him here all alone with Mr. Charming
fantasticso maybe he does move
back over to the tree holding up his pack
pulling out the bag of jerky
(decker)
Welll.......not really. Groaning as the Glass Walker goes charging off, Decker gets to his feet - slower, hairier, and in this form, quite a bit uglier. Tucking the joint beneath his teeth, he pulls his shirt all the way off and wads it up, holding it against his stomach as he ambles after Rune. Save her from the big bad thieves. Save the big bad thieves from her. Help her kick their ass. Whatever.
In case it was one of the regular people, holding a shirt in front of his gut would probably seem slightly less strange than a badly bloodstained shirt. He'd just have to hope the darkness had settled enough that the red running down the front of his pants goes unnoticed.
(james)
beautiful
that worked out quite nicelyand the young Gnawer shoulders the pack, following the trail back to the road at a much slower rate than even the Get leaving a nice little bloodtrail to follow - it's not his fight, and he's already witnessed one tonight, car jackers in the middle of nowhere are not his problem
getting back to the city is
(natalie)
Eyes slide over the car with unabashed appreciation (..what West-bumble-fuck-country-ass would drive something like this..) Perhaps she is deaf, because the alarm certainly doesn't alter her movements any...A smile slides across her features, maybe she could hitch a ride back to the city--very few knew their ways around syllables like Natalie.
Kinda the reason she's stuck out here to begin with.
(...but that is a story for another time, gentle reader.)(rune)
"Get the fuck off ...my goddamned car." Rune snarls the words six or seven minutes later, when she comes abrest of her car. Hiking in had taken her fifteen or twenty minutes, maybe even a half-hour, stumbling and cursing the whole way. Of course, she hadn't wanted to go that way, so she probably had made the whole trip more difficult on herself than otherwise.Natalia hears about half the exclamation - the latter half - for by then Rune has come alongside her baby (sporting a hairy new growth) and grabbed the headphones off Natalie's head in lieu of something else. It was the better part of valor, alright, since she really wanted to pick the girl up and sling her into the watery tangle of weeds and trash in the culvert there.
It's not generosity of spirit that stays her hand. She's afraid of scratching the finish.
(natalie)
"Huh--What the Fuck?"As the headphones are snatched off her head she leaps after them-- pausing midlaed to cover her ears. Wait whjats going on?
"..what all that noise?"
(decker)
The 'hairy growth' stays back, shoulder thrown against the nearest tree, half-slouching, half-seen in the gloom. Still holding his messy shirt against the hole in his stomach like a man with a bellyache.He didn't have a bellyache, but when the gift wore off, he was going to have a lot worse than that. He just watches.
(rune)
"The hell d'ya think it is?" Rune grunts, sharply. "It's my fuckin' car alarm. That's private property you're perchin' on, and I'll thank you to keep you ass off'a it."Soon as the girl slipes from the hood, Rune lets go of the headphones, allowing them to fly/fall back towards their owner. Once more, she ventures into the pockets of her too-tight jeans and pulls out a remote control the size and width of a credit card, then shuts off the alarm.
(james)
his approach is off to the side a bit
amazingly quiet compared to the caterwauling up near the car, and making damn sure he doesn't invade any personal space when walking right past Decker (not wanting to test the span of his reach or patience), chewing on a piece of jerky, hitting the road and.... another quick check with Mother Rat.... making a..... left
it's a long walk into town
shouldn't dilly dally anymore
milkshake's a waitin'(natalie)
Silence can be deadly.
[..sorta like a slit wrist.]And that gawdawful noise--is thankfully stopped by the owner. Dark brown eyes flash toward Rune the edge of her mouth sliding up a bit. The girl is dressed in jeans and a tank--general bumblefuck attire.
"..my bad. Great wheeels though..hard to find anything -comparable- 'round here, yanow?"
(rune)
Rune leans over the hood, examining the finish for nicks or scratches in the failing light. Right about now, she's pretty oblivious to the rest of the world. Inky black, her hair falls across Rune's pale cheek as she studies the finish. When it comes to her car, self-absorbed doesn't even begin to describe her.Soon as she's satisfied that no lasting harm has been done, Rune straightens, grabs a pack of Sobrainie's, and leans back against the hood lightly: proprietarial, probably even territorial.
"Note to self. Next time travel takes me to Hicksville, I will rent an appropriately broken down pick-up," she says, in apparent response to Natalie, as she chooses a neon green cigarette and lights up. She drags off the smoke long and hard, lancing her ballooning sense of aggression and bleeding it into the cool night air as she exhales.
(natalie)
Its that New York vibe.She's defnatly a ways from home though a small tattood Glyph on her upper arm tell alot more about her Italio-yorker accent that her inflection does.
"So like.. you heading into the city soon?"
(rune)
Dark eyes flashing from the glyph, to Decker, to James' retreating form to the little two-seater roadster."The fuck do I look like, girl," Rune snorts, shaking her head and exhaling another cloud of smoke. "...some goddamned cabbie just a-waitin' for you to come along so i can have the privilege of drivin' your ass home? What the hell are you doin' out here, anyway?"
(decker)
And to think, she was the friendly one. Casual, as relaxed as anyone carrying around that much anger could be, Decker glances down at his joint to notice it had burned down to the point where it was singing the hairs on his knuckles. Shifting, he grinds it out on the bark of the tree, red sparks dying to nothing.Rune glances at him. He's not looking at her. He'd looking down, one hand pressing cloth to gash, the other picking at a scab on his shoulder. He glances up just in time to shrug. He could neither see the glyph from this distance nor figure out from Rune's less-than-eloquent glances that there was a glyph there. And, considering no one would mistake him for human at the moment up close and personal, he wasn't going to chance coming much closer.
(natalie)
A hand slides through the mane of hair rather sheepishly (..oh the truth is subjective.) Toungue moistens lips briefly and she takesa step back to include ALL in the story..Fish Tale.
[..i hyad one as BIG as--]"See I was out with Vinnie, you ever heard of Vinnie the Lamb? " She shakes her head toward Rune as holding her in girlish confession, "Such a dick." She shrugs sheepishly to James and Decker. "So I says, Yo Vinnie there ain't no way I'm gonna sleep with you--and he says well then youcan walk home.."
Shrug.
(plead. plead. plead.)"...I chose option b."
(decker)
"Vinnie 'the Lamb' lives all the way out here?" First words out of the big hulking shadow leaning against the tree. Rough, rasping voice; hard and disdainful.(rune)
"All the damn Glasswalkers in the City as gullible as that?" Rune snorts skeptically. "...no wonder the place is a shithole."Course, pretty much anyplace, these days, qualifies as a shit hole, and the plantations of condos in North Jersey are somewhere in the neighborhood of the last circle of hell, so her disdain is for the city is a bit... ironic. Moronic. Take your pick, pick your poison.
(nat)
Something about him makes her nervous. She not sure what but-- Her gaze shifts to Rune now and then to Deckerher head twissting a bit to the left..."Nah, we went to atlantic City for seafood then out here to look at the stars, you know."
Slicker than oil on water.
(decker)
A flicker of the grey eyes up. Not that she could see in this lighting. "Overcast," he points out.(nat)
"You sayin I'm lyin.."Those narrowed eyes shift to Rune.
(nat)
"Yeah.. well I didn't say we wasn't makin out or nothin jus' you know--I'm not puttin out for that buttonman greaseball."She sniffs audibly her hands folding her chest.
"..you gonna help or aint'chya?"
(rune)
"You drive, Decker?" Rune asks, slanting a glance in his dirction. "Or do you need a ride?"(decker)
"What a fuckin' saint," responds the Modi, nudging off the tree now that it seemed obvious Rune had fallen for it, hook line and sinker. Running his free hand over the back of his neck, he adds, "I'm good."(rune)
"Yeah, fuck you too. Sainthood's exactly what I'm goin' for. Probably why I took your ass in. But if you wanna get your application in, you might wanna find your truck and pick that James up. He can't be too far away yet." Rune stomps out her cigarette on the pavement beneath her feet, then bends and picks up the filter. She glances at Natalia briefly, then shrugs in defeat. "I'll give you a ride to the train station. You oughtta be able to catch a train into the city from there."(nat)
Something about her.She was pretty (..okay beautiful) in that very arrogant -don't-I-know-it kinda way, but it just didn't add up quite right. Uf she was out on a date why was she carrying headphone, how come she was dressed so casually? All these things fall by the wayside of those features, that voice. Something about her demeanor made ou WANT to believe her--oh but I was a lie.
She's nearly bouncing in place.
"..good lookin' out Deck."
(nat)
"Killer."And with that she drop a wink to Rune half skipping to the otherside of the car--Time to blow this lame ass joint. Who was Joey to tell her she needed to stay outta trouble.
Brothers.
(rune)
"Touch anything and I'll rip your fuckin' hand off," the woman warns, narrowing her eyes and flashing a brief, dark glance at Natalie as she unlocks the doors the climbs into the driver's side. "Later, Decker."(decker)
A shadow of a wince. Gift was wearing off. Fuckin' stupid wolf. Squinting, "What?" - to Natalie, though he doesn't bother to wait for an answer. "Whatever," he mutters at Rune, turning and moving off in the vague direction James had vanished into.He catches up maybe ten minutes later, which is pretty good considering everything. Falling into step beside the other Ahroun, he keeps the pressure on his gut and nods at James. "Headin' for the city?"
(james)
he wasn't that far, only strolling, longcoat hanging from the Alice straps swaying with every step, though there's surprise in brown eyes when the footsteps approach from behind, nodding with that trademark easy smile"If my sense of direction's right..... jerky?"
tilting the half eaten bag open end towards the Get
(nat)
"Yeah, Later (Schmuck!)"Figers wiggle against air in the fakest kind of wave as she allows her form to settle into the passenger seat.
"You wish is my command, lady driver. I'm Natalie by the way."
(rune)
"Rune," she responds, somewhat surprised at just how short she is with the girl. As the few folks she'd met around here quickly came to learn, Rune's a motormouth, most of the time. Turning over the ignition, she reflects on this, and settles on the compressed kernel of irrational anger still lodged deep and heavy in her gut. The moon was passing, falling, fading, but it hadn't been long since it was high and full in the sky. Swallowing hard against the distasteful thing that such unreasoning rage can be, Rune puts the car in gear and pulls out. As they hit the road, Rune lifts her chin in Natalie's general direction, "...that glyph for real?"(nat)
"You seen'em before? My Dad used to be real big on La Familia and that jive."She IS a motormouth. All the time non-stop and most it was always deriding someone or something. Natalie allowed very few things in life to please--things were simpler that way.
(rune)
"Yeah I seen 'em," Rune snorts, shaking her head. The inky strands of her freshly dyed hair flare and settle around her pale face, darker than the night around them. "I'm fuckin' one of 'em. Wanna know if you know what the fuck it means beyond La Familia."(nat)
One eyebrow lifts and then another."Your a Gambino too?"
There is a tremulous nervousness in that voice, had joe sent her. (..or worse.) What if Joey hadn't sent her? Lips twitch briefly and she moves closer to the door.
"It mean the old country or some shit--Tradition."
(rune)
"Fuckin' hell," she snorts, shaking her head again. The highbeams cut through the misty darkness, defining their twisting path through the boggy woods. "Shouldn't let people run around with shit like that on 'em if they ain't even gonna tell you what the fuckin' hell it means."Mouth tightening, Rune flickers a glance toward Natalie, then returns her eyes to the road muttering under her breath. "....jeeeesus, fuckin', christ."
(decker)
A grim shake of his head. "No." Then - possibly only because Rune had suggested it, and some part of him put Rune up on the totem pole above him - he adds, "Need a lift?"(nat)
"Its a justa fuckin Tattoo relax. We all got'em when we were little--So we'd never forget where we came from.. I'm just as fuckin Italian as an goombah off the boat."Great, she got into the car with a mad woman.
(..she's JUST plain lucky.)
(james)
that..... almost causes the Gnawer to stop in his tracks, almost, but it sure slows him down, brow lifting under that floppy brim in the that's the last thing I expected to hear out of you sort of way
course, doesn't mean he'll pass up the chance"I'd appreciate that."
(decker)
"Goin' there myself," adds Decker under his breath, as though to explain this sudden (apparent) courtesy.Three hundred, five hundred yards down the road, Decker wants to know, "Where you live?" He wasn't making small talk; he needed to know this so he'd know where to head.
(rune)
"It's not just a fuckin' tattoo, you little twit. It's got fuckin' meanin'. It says somethin' 'bout who you are, an' if folks see it, they expect you to fuckin' know what the hell it means," Rune snorts again, as her fingers contract and relax reflexively upon the smooth leather of the steering wheel. "'n if you don't know by now, you wouldn't fuckin' believe it anyway. Jesus Christ. No wonder the world is goin' to shit. I can't believe they gave you that fuckin' tattoo without tellin' you what it meant. Go home and ask your dad about it. See if he has the fuckin' balls to tell you."
(nat)
"Fuck you, He told me everything he NEEDED to tell me. Stop the fuckin car--crazy bitch."And if he's dead, well thats part of the job.
(james)
he can't help the smile, it's sheilded for the odd reason he could realistically get smacked for it, but there's a genuine edge to it - he honestly appreciates the offer
shoulders rolling beneath the Alice pack straps"Where did I live or where am I headed? I'll go wherever you'll take me, I just need to end up in Atlantic City at some point in the future. Once I'm there I'll find a place dry enough to sleep the night."
smile softening a bit, almost sheepish
he sorta thought it was obvious (or at least Tribally assumed) he was homeless
perhaps the recent bath threw things off a bit(natalie)
"..you have a fuckin' Ouija board Yuo can call him yourself."She's shaking why would she let some stranger piss her off like that already she's fumbling with the lock on the door. Her hands clumsy in thier harried (-frenzied-) motion.
(rune)
The answer drains some of the infected stuff from the abcess of Rune's anger. Her shoulders relax faintly, and her features smooth perceptibly. Slowing the car, she continues almost conversationally, "...how old were you when he died?"(decker)
A sideways glance, just a flicker. "Oh." A pause. Then he says, "I crash at Rune's. 'S in AC."Decker had the sort of eyes that are narrowed even at night. Lazy eyes, but keen; eyes accustomed to half-lidding against the light of an Alabama gulf summer. Squinting didn't seem to help there the way it did against desert light, which is harsh and flat. The light of his youth was all-permeating, like the humidity.
You squint and you get a headache. You half-close your eyes, you sit back with a cold one on a hot day, you don't move much like the gators in the swamps, and maybe you'll survive the deep south's summer.
Slowing, he peels the shirt off his gut and studies the wound. Wasn't bleeding anymore. Was still flared open like a filleted fish, but deep inside, where flesh was beginning to knit rapidly, there was a dark, ugly clot - the sort that shouldn't form for days, if not weeks. Seeing that he was all plugged up, he un-balls the shirt and tugs it back on. Red splotches on white, all over a hairy Glabro. Modern art.
(nat)
"Six. Not that its any of your buisness,Rune"If thats your REAL name.
"...would you please stop the car before I commence fucking it up?"
Forced calm.
(rune)
It wasn't her real name, though considering the vanity pate on her BMW - R U NE1 - it well might be."Well that explains that," Rune sniffs, flatly. She glances up, to catch a glimpse of Natalie reflected in the rearview mirror, and slows the car until it comes to a rolling stop on the narrow gravel shoulder of the road, which barely aspires to be two-laned. "If you wanna know what the fuck he didn't get a chance to tell you, I'll oblige. Course, I don't think you'll fuckin' believe me, and I don't think it'll make life any easier for you, but it might be useful next time someone sees that tat and assumes you know what you are."
Shrug, and a faint one, as she clicks the electric lock, unlocking the passenger-side door.
(james)
that easy, nearly care-free smile returns, framed by the hat and light brown dreads"Good, then you won't be going out of your way."
on asphalt - or at least the edge of it - there's a difference in the boyman, he may not walk the walk, or even talk the talk of the jungle, but once you throw concrete into the mix his steps are dead silent, even the sway of the long coat off his pack makes no sound - the rebar drumsticks don't even rattle
the boy can blend when he's in the city, with that swinging stroll
covering the blocks from one end of the city to the other was just a walk in the parkjust.... too bad he sticks out like a sore thumb against the nice treelined backdrop that's still hanging with us
(decker)
"Not much," he corrects. Mr. Polite and Friendly.Decker doesn't belong anywhere. Not here, not in the city. Everywhere he went, his rage flamed like a brand. People skirted around him.
Posted by james at 12:00 AMSeptember 14, 2002.09.14.02. - meetin' up [gabriel-arianna][pine barrens]
(james)
you know, for a city dog, he's spend an inordinate amount of time in these woods, but this time he's not quite so far out, a little closer to town than to Starling and Nathaniel's place, straddling a precariously slanted fallen tree like a premature Trojan Horse, head bowed, dreadlocks hanging to span the space between brown eyes and tanned hands manipulating a pair of peculiar drumsticks into a specific rhythm that echos softly out of the slowly hollowing treethe pathwork tophat is tilted in his concentration, and the tattered longcoat folded to make a seat, second hand black BDUs showing a little more wear and tear since he's been tromping the woods and not the normal highways and byways of the city
nope
he's certainly out of place here
but seems damned comfortable enough, doesn't he(madison cassidy)
~ She is dressed in a Chaosgirl T-shirt and a pair of flared jeans…carrying a backpack…she has long jet black hair…with a white streak down the side. (battle wound) She is only 21, but has been through shit most 21 year olds haven’t…her green eyes sparkle and she carries herself with confidence~
This confidence however different then any who used to know her…
Athletic and toned, she doesn’t look like one to mess with…Something about the way she carries herself, or the way she looks at you…her confidence exposed in each step and movement, her pure breed apparent in her face.As the day begins to disappear and the night begins to emerge...there is a sound coming from a place not far from Gabes clearing...
a beat...rhymic
She leans up against the log as the wood handmade drum sets between her legs, thighs pressed against it holding it towards her
the ryhtmic beatShe plays softly at first, just keeping a slow subtle beat, her eyes closed, enjoying just being there
(james)
now, there's something about being a percussionist - you can always pick out someone else's beatso after a moment of wondering if that backbeat was his, or some strange concoction of being in the fresh air for far too long, the rebar 'sticks still, head in a suddenly canid tilt
listening
then a smile quirks across his lips
"What do we have here, Jamey-boy......."
(gabrial thunder oak)
Rhythem... low... constant...The rolling play of subtle hints of hands to self made drumhead. Burning blood of the old ways streaming forthing into the night of the present in a most simple and sublime manner.
Slowly the sounds begin to rise, the rythem of his own heartbeat beginning to feel the song slowly pouring out through those beating words.
This was a song deeper and more alive than any outside the truth would ever understand. Somehow this was a window into the past as well as forward through the ages.
Standing, rising from a long meditation the scent of his packmate is near. Slowly he rises to his feet. Bare, as is his chest. Massive scars run down his chest from shoulder to hip, as well as a fairly recent addition running down his right side. A burn more than anything else, but it was a scar he wasn't happy about having had to endure.
The humidity in the air held his hair into a matted mess more than anything. Primal looking, with his tattoo'd shoulders, arms, back... Marks of both line and rank.
Slowly he moved through the night air, finally standing outside the small area of her drumming. Watching... listening, waiting.
(madison)
The beat speeds up a bit Each first beat heavier then the 3 that follow, bringing the sounds to life The music becoming fuller although still only her drumming..
Her eyes still closed...leaning up against the trunk of the tree.
Her escape...a way she releases whatever is in her headThe sounds fill the night...She can sense Gabriel is close by, but she doesnt open her eyes yet
drumming...
(james)
wai.....one....two even!a little bit of excitement ripples through the youth's lean body, which stretches into a lean over to the side, rebar angled to gunn a striking beat against one of the granite boulders holding the tree up
one two... threefourfive beats ring through the trees
and he stills once againhead canted, listening for a response
opportunity knocks, and if he thinks he's in another's territory, well, so shall he
(gabe)
boom, boom, boom... the simple way each note is emphatically reached almost without measure or attempted try. Smiling to himself as he stands silently crossed armed watching as the third slowly began to appear. He did not know this one, and the smell of the city weighted heavy upon him. Still he watched.There may be no Caern here in these wood... ((YET)) but there were things that all knew and heeded. This was an open territory, not yet claimed fully by anyone so he just watched... for now. Pleased that the sounds of the music played through the young woman who had thus far learned much in such a short time.
(madison)
She hears another sound, matching her own, in its own style
Which was rare, she hardly expected that, it actually surprised her enough to stop the drum beat completely as she looks aroundthose green eyes glancing around..
She stops on Gabe...briefly, her eyes stop and search for a moment, reaching into his own as she feels her body tensen up only slightly and then relax. she had learned control, at least mostly, of her thoughts, her feelings, her mind
She was in control of those things, and had been practicing what she needed to do...what was right
But it was easy to comply with her mind rules when he was gone..
now that he was in front of her...
But the other distraction helpedHer eyes changing course mid-stare and heading to the sound of the other drummer
(gabe)
A picture of one with nature, surrounded by the wood as he surrounds it within himself. Gifts of having been in the wild for long enough that you pick up on these things easier. The sense of movement and timing... he nodded to her as her eyes met his. Slowly his attention as well as hers shifted to the third. The newcommer who had joined in with a style and flare of well addressed skill.
(james)
even so, there's forest wolves and city dogs, he being one of the latter heeds more unspoken rules out here than normal - but some things you just can't resista drum circle is one of them
and talents built beneath the shadow of concrete oaks that tower limitless to the sky, a strange twist begets the primitive rhythm struck by rebar on stone, a strange harmonic clash of future fears and ancestor's passions - but like everything, the climax comes too soon, and his curiosity gets the better of him, beat abandoned for sake of finding these new..... friends?
but off the fallen tree in a swirl of second-hand clothing and tattered coattails, Cochran's repaired more than once making sure his passage is far less than subtle in his approach on the other two - they don't smell or sound like those he knows so why take the chance of sneaking up, that normally ends in bad tidings as paranoid as some folks have seemed - not that he blames them
right-o
lips purse for a solo rendition of Gambler's Blues to wade through the trees before him, rebar drumsticks tucked beneath his arm in derelict parody of a gentlman for a midnight stroll with his cane
(madison)
Not much of a drum circle now that she has stopped, and Gabe has no drumBut she smiles at the newcomer, perhaps thanking him for being there not that he wold know why.
She sets the drum against the tree and stands up, brushing the dirt off her ass and shoving her hands into her pockets as she glances from Gabriel to the new guy..breaking the silence something she is good at doing..
"Heh, I guess thats one way to bring people together" she glances to the drum..."Just bang on the ol skins a bit and people flock to me" The smile crosses her lips and her eyes have that twinkle as she lets a small chuckle out..
"Hello there" she says...to both of them
(gabe)
Hiding a sense of joyful laughter he stands still and smiles.He had a drum, she's seen it before, he would just have to retrieve it if the need arose. Instead he was more interested in just watching and waiting for the moment.
(james)
it existed for a little while, and that was good enough for him, an easy smile sporting across his features"Evenin."
patchwork tophat tipped in a nod to both of them, light brown dreads clinging almost shyly to his shoulders
"Not interruptin' anything, am I?"
(madison)
She shakes her head.."naw, not really, i was just passing the time"
she smirks..
Eyes moving back to Gabe
Can you tell ive been trying to teach myself lessons of my own?Then back to the guy..."You just out for a stroll?" she chuckles.."although im sure theres more to it then that...right?" she smirks...
(gabe)
There came a small nod with the look she gave him in that moment. The words passing between them even without truly being spoken aloud. He knew she had been practicing and he knew it was almost time for him to teach her a bit more of things...Yet right now his attention was more on the new stranger.
(james)
the boyish grin spreads with a nod"Exactly right..... I'm curious about what this fresh air thing is that people make such a big deal about."
the coat, the hat, the boots, the dreads, the scent on top of everything else
it's obvious he doesn't quite belong out here, more likely a wicked carnival, and he doesn't hide it
gesturing absently with his free hand through indulgent inhale"I find it quite fascinating.... name's James.... at your service."
the streetperformer's charm building up that smile again, reaching to tip the tophat in half bow
(gabe)
The charm was obvious, as were the manner and gesture. It was with a practiced and fofus gaze that he truly looked at this man. Noone with the smell of the city so heavily embedded upon them just 'comes' out here without reason. It was a good journey from the city to these wood and to come and follow all the way out here was by no mear accident. This little performer was more than he appeared and it only took a few moments before he had to hold back a laugh as he could see why... The suttle and hidden in plain sight glyphs.With that the large, powerful Irishmen walked out of the shadow more and stood in the suttle light pouring down from Luna.
(madison)
She laughs.."At my service" she nods.."right on...and i dont remember ordering one of you...but hell I suppose I can always use one" she shakes her head and shrugs her shoulders...
eyeing only briefly the glyphs...she doesnt recognize what exactly but knows its one of them...just not sure exactly whichShe too has her glyph on her, only it is not seen right now, the shirt covering the tribal tattoo around her navel...
"Fresh air is much better then smog, pollution and the smell of those damn hot dog stands on the street corners" she chuckles...Moving to pick up her drum and drape it over her shoulder..
as she returns to the group."Maddy" she nods in acknowledgement..
good nuff for her, He says James, she says Maddy...Let big boss guy over there get the REAL introductions going
if they have toJust another of Maddys pet peeves, that Gabriel finds entertaining to poke at
(james)
he seems almost mortally wounded even if it just widens the grin, the youth winking at Gabriel, before turning back to her with a brow raised"Well..... I'm not so sure how much servicing you'll get knockin' on hot dogs like that, Maddy."
though smooth voice waxes warm
(gabe)
He stands... waiting for the man to notice anything and if he would make any announcement properly. Bone Gnawers may be looked upon differently than some but it was always with a cautioned eye that he had known these cousin of Gaia.(madison)
She laughs.."i wasnt knockin the dogs, i was knockin the stands" she smirks and shakes her head..."ever get a whiff of the people tending those places" she shakes her head.."only worse would be the city folk driving the cabs...yeesh"
(madison)
She glances to them both and looks at the sky...
something made her not want to be here right now
she was having issues in her own head, issues she was hardly able to fight off right now...a deep breath and she looks at James...
"Ya know, it was nice meeting you, and how good to know i have you at my service, ill remember that" she chuckles.."im usually around these parts, and always looking for another drummer" she chuckles..Eyes staying away from Gabe right now
fighting something ....truly fighting something"But right now, i have to go, i have something i have to do..."
um yeah, something really important, like get the fuck away from ehre before my head explodes
She had thought she had it beat, perhaps time in the umbra....
yeah thats it
umbra ...and she heads towards the trees....
(gabe)
He made as if he was going to say something to her but instead nodded gently and with a look it spoke all on its own that he needed to see her tonight so he would find her later.Turning his attention back to James the large irishmen smiled and in a thick accent spoke.
"Welcome James, we have yet to be properly introduced."
(james)
"Ooooh, that I'll have to agree with ya. Easier to smell them than the hotdogs."brows wiggled a bit, nodding an understood parting, but his attention turns back towards Gabe, a quick preponderance of scars brings quite a more musical lilt to his tones
"James Branson, Drums-on-Skulls to those back home and maybe herewithin, Cliath son of Griselle, daughter of Shakes-the-Bricks, daughter of Momma Ruggs. Sent from New York on a scouting mission."
chin dropping..... just barely.... but it's there
(gabe)
His demeanor changes easily once the youth is recognized to him."Welcome young Drums-on-Skulls, I am Gabriel Thunder Oak, Wyrmslayer. Athro Fiannan Elder, Galliard Moon Dancer, Teacher of the Young, Alpha of Gaia's Glory, Defender of this wood."
He pauses for a moment before continuing.
"I'll spare you the rest of the line as it really wouldn't have any meaning in this moment. Tell me why has the packs from New York come here to Scout? Especially a young Bone Gnawer as yourself?"
(james)
Houston, we have.... a welcome!
and the tophat tips again in a nod, easy smile returning"Thank ya sir..... and to be honest, we're not quite the Pack of New York, we're on the outskirts of the CIty, heard the barking chain speaking of some nastiness in the area, they sent me to see what I could find out if it were true or not...... sort've a learning experience, if ya will."
(gabe)
He nodded to the youth."Or its true all right..."
Twisting his body some he points at the long scar along his right side. More recent and still alittle touchy in some spots.
"We had 4 Spirals ambush this park. They were driven off but it was folly and a foolish thing which hath been done. One that shall not be repeated."
(james)
brows lift beneath that floppy brim, restraining a low whistle - it may be appropriate at home, but he's not sure about here, nodding
rather somberly, really"Understandable. Well..... I can send word home....."
lower lip nibbled a bit in breif thought
".... is.... there any way I can be of servic to ya?"
not exactly sure how much help a city dog is going to be in the woods, in a battle like this, he earned his rank by providing, not fighting, even if he can hold his own
just that those in the area (so far) have been so kind when he's recieved far worse receptions(arianna simone)
Typical, really, if you think about it. Young, hip, blond, dark eyed beauty - add leather and you'd have every kid who thinks she's a badass from sea to shining sea, which is why she prefers denim thank you. Dangerously low hiphuggers, and jacket, babydoll t underneath, hair pulled back in a ponytail, and sturdy hiking boots with messanger bag slung over her shoulders. She moves with liquid, confident grace down the trail, a toothpick rolled between her teeth lazily as head moves with the beat pouring through headphones from the diskman in her bag.(gabe)
"Many would believe that the children of the city, namely those who travel underfoot and without sight of them who can not see would be of no use to this cause. I say those are wrong to make persumption of such things. I thank you for your offer, but if yous truly seek to aide us in this fight, then I need eyes inside the city. I am far to long in the blood of my people to travel near the mortal members of this world. The Rage inside frightens those who would be sheep to the preditory wolf which I am. But I need to find the Hive of these dark bastards and weed them out so that a true hunt may be called.... That is where you would be most helpful to me... and to your pack."(arianna)
A slide to the left, a dodge under a treebranch - but voices ahead don't gather her attention, not yet, as she's lost in a world of her own little musical making. Dangerous - or confident - who's to say? Well trod trail makes for relatively easy going, hands tucking into her pockets as she continues on.(gabe)
Pausing he looks around the darkness of the wood. A low growl almost seeped up into his throat before he stops and smells the air deeply, in three short breaths. Softly, the music carries through the night on the winds of heightened senses and a familuarity of the place in which it stands out."We are not alone young cousin."
(james)
aha, well, that would be providing now wouldn't it
mellow as the Ahroun is, there's a hope that ignites beneath the carefully chosen words of the Galliard - though it doesn't surprise him, given historical inspiration - the boy that can't be far past his twentieth summer even as the autumn draws near straightens, a little"Well then..... there I think I can help you..... I don't stand out quite so much."
winked, again, few days shy of a Ragabash is he
attention drawn, slightly, to the steady cadence of boots on the path, but he doesn't let it show much, only enough for general 'okay, there is something coming' careful to give the Athro the respect deserved, tophat tilting to give a listen"I'd guess female.... by the sound of her steps....."
(gabe)
"Aye, the scent is definatly female. It is strange that one would be out this way in the middle of the night so deep in the wood. I'm not use to it unless you have great reason. As you did in trying to find others."
(james)
he's still getting used to this fresh air thing, and does what he can to scent the girl amidst the overwhelming pine sol freshness that's almost sticky compared to the smooth smokey streets back home
oh well, we adapt
we progress
and the urban primitive learnsbut his head shakes a bit, dreads a slow waltz on shoulders and upper chest
"Where I'm from, women don't walk the streets alone at night unless they're lookin' to be bought.... and I'd think there'd be a limited clientele out here."
invisable ears perking beneath the hat to the tribal rhythms breaking the trees with her
intrigued, indeed(gabe)
"Aye..."Crossing his arms once more as the large Irishman takes his gaze out over the treeline to the breaking trail to this part of the wood. The sounds of both boot and music lift off the earth and wind and tell tale of her entry.
(arianna)
Steps slow, then halt as she sees the two men sitting there - one a big-ass scottish looking bloke, the other... city boy? Well. Now she turns down the music with a reach behind her back, the other hand sliding to pull the headphones down to hang around her neck."Evenin."
Her voice is unaccented, soft, but carries perfectly as she pulls the toothpick from her mouth and tucks it in jeans pocket.
(james)
city boy indeed
fingers play along the heavy rebar drumsticks with her reach, a little more wary now that earlier, given the factoids Gabriel graced his ears with, tophat bobbing, nodding with an easy smile to her words, but he remains fairly silent
the young Gnawer letting the Athro take the lead?
you betcha.(gabe)
The large Irishmen stands there... the tribal glyphs tattoo'd on his shoulders, upper arms and across his back which she couldn't see right now. The teardrop shaped scar under his right eye, and the line of deep scars across his chest and down his side show marks of soemthing not normally something someone would recieve and live in most cases. His crystal blue eyes, piercing yet soft look to her as she moved toward them.
Deep irish accent as he speaks..."Evening Lass. What brings one so far as thee out this far into the wood at such an hour?"
(james)
it's not out of fear, but of respect, hanging slightly behind Gabriel's shoulder, watching the girl curiously with those brown eyes peering from beneath the floppy brim of the glyph stitched tophat
it's obvious who outranks who - not just by the scars, that's for sure
passing through
...... really(gabe)
An eyebrow raises as he is being scoffed at, even if it is just a bit. He hated having to play the formal games all day long but it was what it was... and either she didn't know the proper terms of greeting or was never trained by anyone. Either case it was too soon to tell without using the abilities and gifts of Gaia."Kin of your kin, or kin by blood association?"
(james)
curiosity may have killed the cat, but for the dog, it gets a bit of a chuckle, eyeing that inked glyph, but the boy with the dreadlocks lets the Athro keep the formal games going
not much of an effort, really
he'll speak when spoken to, at this point, always listening, always learning, keeping a keen eye on anything body posture may give away
even he knew the proper greeting(arianna)
And she just.. hates the formality. A sigh and slight roll of her eyes."Kin. Arianna Simone, daughter of Jared and Sharon 'Sings in blood' Simone of Georgia... I'm just kin so want me to go back farther? The past is the past - the present is I'm a streetkid who thought she'd play things at least partially correct and sooth the minds of the elders that I still know my place as rabble among the chosen. Close enough?"
An arched brow as she shows the Silver Fang glyph more clearly before returning jeans to pecarious hold on hips.
(gabe)
He smiles to her gently..."Take no offense little one. Your mark is clear and only needed you to prove its worth. I am Gabriel Thunder Oak, Wyrmslayer, Athro Fiannan Elder and you are welcome Kin of the Fang."
(james)
oooooh, the high and mighty big brother's half-daughter has come out to tromp in the gutters with us uncivilized rabble, Gaia forbid she get her boots dirty or hair unkempt, deal with the formality young'un cause it's your family that made it uphe doesn't say it out loud, per say, but there is a slight niggling little voice snidely whispering in the back of his mind, like a long lost memory straight outta Greatest Grandfather's mouth
any betrayal of his thoughts is covered with the easy smile
what's past is past, right?"James Branson, Drums-on-Skulls, Ahroun Bone Gnawer Cliath..... "
the last grinned with a shrug
(arianna)
Show's what he knows - she considers herself the rabble. But of course he covered it with that grin. She shrugs easily."None taken - just hate the formal bullshit I grew up with.. like who gave birth to you has one bittashit about who you are today. Specially for those of my not so noble birth."
Again the grin, with is almost.. catching.
"Nicetameetcha Gabriel, Jame. And I really was just passing through. Hoping to meet, not expectin to if ya know what I mean."
(james)
she's got the blood, she's got the mojo rising - a Fang is a Fang and Gnawer's memory long, especially when every Pup was taught First Legend
but yea, covered with a smile, like the thought wasn't even there at all
not so noble..... ha!"Nice ta meetcha too, Arianna.... but can't helpya there kid, most of your folks don't hang around mine."
or, if they do, it's a damn rare case
(arianna)
She chuckles and nods."So a littlebittafib. I don't have the superscent you"
Catches herself and doesn't add what she was gonna.
"do - so waited a bit to be sure you were what I figured ya were. Girl's gotta watch her back and all."
She takes note of the direction, and nods.
"I'll keep that in mind. Prefer the city, m'self... but making myself known to the higher ups let's them know where to find me when they need someone of my talents - or just a dry hump behind a tree."
Oh yeah - she knows her place. S'why she took off, sick of being used and abused by such glorious snobbish purebreeds.
(gabe)
"As much as mating with Kin is the lifes blood of our people, I don't take that which is not given purely and honestly. Just because you wear the mantle of authority does not mean you have the duty to misuse it. Nor do I believe just because you are what you are makes you any less of an advantage to the true cause... be you Kin, Walker, Gnawer, or Fang. We are All of Gaia and we all fight the fight in our own way. Go in peace little sister..."How many times has he been chastized for that little phrase at Elder meetings between the Tribes when pompous Fang, Lord and Get try to get one up on the other for whatever petty reason. Turning slowly to face James.
"Go in peace Cousin. If I have need or you find out anything be free to make yourself known."
With that said the Large Fianna moves off past them both into the grove of trees and off toward his own camp.
(james)
there's a slight nod"I will Cousin, I will search and return with what I find, you know my call in the air."
rebar drumsticks rattled, slightly, watching as the Elder moves away, then glancing back towards the Kin
"Heading towards the Lake or back to more familiar territory?"
(arianna)
She lifts a brow as he speaks, then nods with a grin."That's a refreshing view. I appreciate the welcome and if you've need of a streetkids perspective or talents - uh.. well I'll be around."
A grin as she watches him head away before turning to James and jerking and thumb back toward the city.
"More familiar - definately. Too much fresh air rots the brain."
Chuckles.
(james)
the grin playing over his lips is wry"You may not be so bad after all..... I'm not gonna be able to smell out a good meal for weeks with all this pine sol clogging my sinuses."
grinned, even teased, a final glance back towards Gabe's camp thereabouts and he's turned to head back from whence he came, readjusting the patchwork hat and straightening the tattered coat
"So what are those other talents you were talking about?"
curious, but there was no lude implication behind it
he's on a mission, and she just became a resource(arianna)
"Back atcha."Grins and adjusts her bag, making sure headphones are still around her neck before falling into step with him.
"little bitta that, little bitta this - you know how it is. Lockpicking, computers - both repair and hacking. Staying alive when half a pack has decided that at the tender age of 14 you've outlived your resourcefulness... Shit like that."
A nod to those drumsticks..
"And I'm gathering those are one of your talents..."
(james)
"Hacking, huh?"yep, definite resource, he doesn't even know how to turn a computer on save perhaps licking it, though nods with a chuckle
"Great way to earn some spare change now and then" not to mention channel the Rage "and the rebar makes a fabulous dent in someone's skull, too...."
mused, smiling, tossing a stick to catch it end over end in idle contemplation, and perhaps remembrance, seems his Deed name is quite apt
"Otherwise it's lockpicking, scrounging, persuading, convincing, surviving when half the Garou nation, the Wyrm, and a good lot of the humans think you outlived your resourcefulness in the Old World much less New."
flashing the grin again
amazingly, he's not bitter(arianna)
"Yup.. I'm not the best, but give me a year or three."Chuckles
"I can imagine. And I never really paid much attention what the rest of the nation wanted after hightailing it outa the situation I was in. Heard some rumors around about scuffles here and there so figured I'd oughta toss a hello this direction in case for some odd reason I was determined to be useful."
And she's... not exactly bitter, but not about to be shit on either.
(james)
there's a slow nod, gaze sliding over towards her"How'd you hear about the scuffles?"
(arianna)
"I keep my ears open, was in the right place in the right time to hear a bitta this and that. Nothing specific really, just rumors - but everyone knows the most fantastic is usually the most true."A shrug - she's got sources, but as any good informant, she keeps them to herself.
(james)
luckily, his resources? no one else can out-bribe or even understand
always a good thing
but he nods"Yea, know how that is..... I'm doing to do a little scouting for Gabriel, s'all, finding out what I can, where I can, from whom I can."
stepping through and around the trees, not exactly staying on a beaten path anymore, just following his own scent back towards a little back alley 'hotel' in the nearby city
(arianna)
A nod, and a glance at him, easily following his wandering lead.."Anything specific you want to point me in the direction of? The world wide web is a wonderful place for info if ya know where and how to look."
And she does...
(james)
again, that nod
she knows more than he on that count"Look for whatever stands out. Where we can begin pinpointing activity and narrow things a bit more than.... southward. I found a lovely newspaper repository..... I was planning on checking for interesting things in the backpages tonight before going to where I'm sleeping."
(arianna)
Nods, pulling her toothpick free and propping it between her lips again, rolling it with her tongue as she thinks a moment."No problem. have a friend who's let me set up at his place for now... I'll start sniffing around when I make it back that direction."
(james)
aha, civilization looms ahead, the welcome crackle of activity that blesses the city, he seems incredibly more relaxed now, even if the woods were relaxing, even foreign, the city is home"How will I contact you?"
(arianna)
A playful grin as she slings her bag around and digs for pen and paper, a number scrawled on it, before pen is tucked away again, bag slung around proper as she hands the scrap of paper to him."modern day conviences. s'my cell number."
(james)
tucking the paper into one of the many pockets, there's that nod again, all business, the almost Ragabash now, isn't he, but soon that familiar smile makes its way out into Luna's light once more"I'll make a mental note to keep enough change for a payphone then.... I'll call you in two days, then, and we'll see what each other has found."
(arianna)
tucking the paper into one of the many pockets, there's that nod again, all business, the almost Ragabash now, isn't he, but soon that familiar smile makes its way out into Luna's light once more"I'll make a mental note to keep enough change for a payphone then.... I'll call you in two days, then, and we'll see what each other has found."
Posted by james at 12:00 AMSeptember 11, 2002.09.11.02. - jerkey [sterling][north jersey]
(sterling black)
*thwap, thwap, thwap, thwap... With this year's Doc Martens strapped tightly to his feet, the boy makes his way down the road, hands in the pockets of his once-trendy-now-grimy american eagle cargo shorts. Although his demeanor is cool, like any tough-stuff punk his age, his eyes betray the nervousness under the surface... These streets aren't his home, he's not comfortable here, he's not comfortable not being comfortable. It's a change, one he's not getting used to well.He stops now at a street corner, and leans against the light pole there, hands digging in his pockets for something... The way his gray eyes keep straying to the little food store down the way, it's probably money he's looking for. With a sigh, his thin shoulders shrug and he pulls the wallet out of his back pocket. Unlike the less-than-clean clothes he wears, this black leather device is in immaculate condition, it even cracks when he opens it. Fingering through the contents, he finally settles on something and halfway removes something resembling a credit card before shoving it back in and shaking his head, the leather square sliding back into his pocket.
The boy frowns softly to himself and runs a well-tanned hand through his short blond hair and pushes himself off the street lamp, hands finding their way angrily back into his pocket as he continues on his way...
Wait a minute... The boy can't be more than maybe 15, what's he doing with a credit card?*
(james)
now, there's those that are obviously uncomfortable walking around, along, on a strange street in the middle of a strange nightlike our young credit card weilding friend here
and then there are those that obviously come from the other side of the tracks, way across the tracks, so far across the tracks it isn't even the same state anymore (well, it's true) - but it is these people, these folks, that are more than at home just about anywhere - and there's one of them now
the tattered tails of the longcoat dance around ankles of second-hand Cochrans, pathwork tophat perched at a right jaunty angle over light brown dreads, rebar drumsticks poking from the Alice pack like straws from a wicked martini, hands running the routine of finding which pocket the earned change has been shoved into, standing right outside that foodmart
yes, that one.
(sterling)
*thwap, thwap, plop, shuffle, thwap...So preoccupied with watching the building up ahead, he stumbles over the street corner... Whoops... Gotta check if anyone saw him... No? Hope not... Good...
As he gets a little closer to the little food joint, he finally makes the connection that this bum's in his way... Hell... He'll probably want money or something. Eh, don't matter, the boy ain't sharing.
Unhooking the UNC Tarheels hat from his beltloop, he flops it on his head and slows down a bit, trying to avoid the older man's gaze.
Docs, American Eagle, Tarheels... Wait, yep, there it is, Abercrombie & Fitch all over the front of his shirt....
Ducking his way around the other guy, he reaches for the door, praying there's still a little time left before closing*
(james)
now, if the stumbleshitstepsafe didn't get his attention, the skittershuffled around him did, brown eyes bouncing up to watch the boy weave around and head into the store - and not one to waste, before the door closes the older man is walking in right behind him and starts alloting the 15 minutes left before conveniece closes to browse the shelves and pick up what he can for supplies, glancing at the kiddocs..... american eagle.... tarheels......abercrombie...... and filthy
something just doesn't ring a big ol' bell with that, no homeless kid has that fashion sense or luck, not even a Gnawer - something's up
but there isn't much more than silence, save the occasional drop of an item into the basket, and the more than obvservant yet nonchalant watch of this strange boy
(sterling)
*well, apparently the horrible attempt at stealth seems to have satisfied the boy, he doesn't even give the other man a second thought, even though the guy walks in right behind him.The other news? By the way he shops, he's deffinately not a homeless kid... He passes right by the generic sodas and stuff and heads right over to the damn-near-two-dollars-a-bottle snapple elements. Opening the cooler door, he quickly grabs one... Fire... and lets the door shut behind him, walking down the isles until he locates the beef jerky... Yea... There's the good stuff. He smiles a bit to himself as he grabs the six dollar bag and a little plastic package of peanuts to go with it...
Feeling pretty content with himself, the boy pulls out his wallet again and makes his way up to the counter where the attendant gives him quite posibly the dirtiest look on earth. It doesn't phase the kid as he just puts the stuff on the counter and waits for the guy to ring him up...
Beep, beep, beep
The total's $11.87...
Pulling out the plastic from his wallet, he hands it over to the guy... Debit... And waits.
Buzz... Beep... beep
Apparently there's only enough left for the drink, or so says the man behind the counter, although it comes out more like 'y'ain got it kid, dis is all ya get, here's da receipt, now go on'
Looking totally emberrassed and a little more than angry, the kid frowns and snags his card back from the big guy*
"What the fuck do you mean? There's plenty of shit on that card... I went to the atm yesterday and it said there was fourty bucks on there, not you ring this shit up again old man..."
*quite the mouth on that boy... you'd think his parents woulda taught him better*
(james)
quite the taste, and quite the mouth
indeeda brow lifts beneath the not quite so straight brim of the tophat, falling into line and catching the little performance, basket resting between hip and counter, within it far more food than the boy picked up, and the vagrant certaintly couldn't have more money than the youngster, could he, an almost..... apologetic.... look to the clerk
you'd think parents would teach one better
you'd thinkbut some of us know better, don't we
(sterling)
*Nothing... All the boy gets is threatened with a phone call to the police... No food, just a drink... Well, FINE!Flipping the man off, he grabs the drink off the counter and throws the receipt on the ground, storming his way out the entrance door and throwing it shut behind him...
Wow...
Outside, he kicks at a trash bin bolted to the sidewalk next to the entrance and wanders down the road just a bit before he pulls up a seat on the street corner and gets to opening the snapple and mumbling to himself about 'dirty welfare freaks workin in joints like that'*
(james)
there's a bit of a smile hidden behind a scratched nose, chuckling at youth's storm back onto the streets, and an idle exchange of words about the youngun's these days before his own is paid for, the bag collected and he exits with far less pyrotechnics and drama back onto the streetthere's a bench, between the seething kid and the front of the store, and that's what he heads to, skirting the trashbin vomiting its contents onto the sidewalk, and settling the Alice pack down, before beginning to sort and pack what he's bought - several cans of food, a candy bar or two, some drinks......
.... and a bag of jerky - the not quite six bucks a pop kind
still occasionally watching the kid and the veritable steam rising from his ears and into the night sky
boy that's a lot of rage pent up, now isn't it
(sterling)
*he just sits there, brooding, the black cloud practically hanging over his head... BLAM, lightning crashes as he hauls back and pitches the cap from the bottle out into the road, clipping the tire of some passing car - luckily not hard enough to catch the attention of the driver.The card sits next to him on the curb, and he doesn't even hardly look at it, kinda like he just dropped it there when he sat down*
"So much for dinner... That's bullshit..."
*with a heavy sigh, some of the anger seems to roll off his shoulders and he settles down to drink his snapple, paying absolutely no attention to Mr. Tophat back there, yea, the guy who's been following him or something.
Maybe he'll go away...*
(james)
just about everything gets neatly packed, except for the jerkey, of course, that's one of the last things picked up after Alice is shouldered and Mr. Tophat begins once again on his way"Word of advice GAP kid....."
an absent wave like he's speaking to air, a few thoughtful steps chewing on a piece of jerkey
"..... leave the card there and they'll find you. Course..... the way you act, I'd give Them about three more days before they find you.... and eat you..... and maybe they'll leave the carcass to bury next to your rich parents."
madness, he must be talking sheer madness, just another bum on the street, some crazy boozing drug manipulated experimented on Vietnam vet that seems, well, like he may have been born several years after the war but these vagrants are all the same, they don't know anything, they're crazy man cray-zee and couldn't seriously be talking about real monsters that would come and suck one's brains out in the middle of the night
no, Mr. Tophat seems entirely to aware of himself and his surroundings to be raving, and that advice was rationally calm
he quite knows what he's talking about
but only takes another bite of jerkey and keeps walking down the street
if the kid wants to know, he'll follow(sterling)
*Gah! Jerky! Asshole! The boy spots the stuff as he looks over his shoulder at Mr. Tophat... GAP kid? What a prick... He's just out here to make fun of him...Wait a minute... Who the hell are they?
The anger seems to wipe from his face for just a moment as he listens to the crazy bum talk... Then... Then he gets mad again, hopping up, grabbing the card, and storming a few steps after the freak... His eyes are ablaze now, and his fists clenched at his sides... Not at all an imposing site, in fact, he may be even younger than the man thought... No facial hair to speak of. It's pretty easy to notice, considering his big mouth is the most obvious part of him*
"Hey man, what the fuck do you know about my parents, huh? Don't talk about stuff you don't know about... Besides, there's nobody coming after me, or else I wouldn't be here right now, would I?"
(james)
and that's his cueas the boy gets his game and jumps up the man stays calm, up until the storm brings the kid within arms reach and a fist snaps out to wrap in Abercrombie's collar, dragging the kid - who's surely going to holler now - into an alley
Mr. Tophat is a lot stronger than he looks
kid propped - okay slightly slammed - against a wall and those eyes, crackling with an energy that seems so otherwordly, glare into whatever fires could possibly be burning deep inside that boy
"Hmmmm..... lets see here. Wallet still so new it creaks and containing cards with a bank account that should still have cash in it but doesn't..... something that can be considered fashion sense, matched, slightly dirty around the edges but overall still in good shape, no major rips, tears, stains or blood..... haircut still in order and" a pause, and a deeeeep, thoughtful, inhale "Soap!"
fist unwraps, effectively dropping the kid, brow lifting as he takes a step back fueled by soft chuckle
"I'd bet money something terribly uncomfortable happened not more than a day or two, three at the most, ago. Yes? Something you don't want to go home because of. Something you can't go home because of. How are the folks, GAP kid."
(sterling)
*as he's dragged into the alley, it's amazing how quiet he stays... Admittedly he makes one failed attempt to kick the other man in the junk, but no such luck, his legs just aren't at the right angle... Damnit!Those eyes... Those terrible eyes of the bum... But, the glare is returned with one just as fierce, the firey passion of youth mixed with a terrible anger from deep within... His gaze could practically burn someone.
He grunts slightly as he's dropped to the ground, the concrete of the alley hard against the yeilding flesh of his body...
Rubbing the back of his head, he stares up at the dirty man with that baleful look in his eyes, a snarl forming on his lips...*
"Yea, so what... I've got dirty clothes, big fuckin' deal... You never seen a dirty kid before?
And, you leave my parents out of this, okay? That's none of your damn business, so just shut up...
*he makes as if he's going to rise, but he puts his hand in his other back pocket, not standing up, but trying to get his bearings in order, totally not used to being thrown around*
(james)
a shoulder hits the other alley wall in comfortable lean with the pack still on, returning to the slow consumption of the jerkey in another thoughtful moment of chewing"How far off the mark am I? Honestly."
another chuckle - he's actually a bit cleaner than the kid is, save his clothes - and eyeing the boy up and down
"There are dirty kids who've grown up on the streets. And there are dirty kids that have no idea the world they've just stepped into. You, my boy, are one of the latter. It's damn obvious. The cops aren't the only things that'll be lookin' for ya. There are bigger, meaner and much nastier things that will be coming after you. They'll do things to you which will make you wish I mugged and killed you tonight. But you're right..... what business is it of mine?"
so up from the wall we go, straightening, lapels grabbed to help adjust Alice on his back, pausing on a second thought
"Oh.... and watch out for the fleas, kid, once they get under your coat it's murder...."
a wink, a smile at a private joke, and the dreadlocked carnival man turns to go
(sterling)
*he just sits there, listening to the man, still angry, but... listening... How the hell does this guy know so much and so little at the same time?He... He can't tell the guy anything, he just freakin' met him... Wait... He didn't even meet him, he just kinda got roughed up by him...
He just sits there now, sitting back against the wall and staring across the way at the opposite wall.
Nothing, nothing comes out of the smart-ass' mouth, nothing at all, he just sits there, staring, not moving as memories come back to him... Things he doesn't want to remember... A huge sigh wracks his body and he turns away from the other man, not wanting to make eye contact again*
(james)
there's silence but for the sigh and a few cadenced Cochran steps, then the man half-turns"Ever feel like figuring out what the hell happened that night, GAP kid, look me up."
the resealed bag of jerkey sailing through the air to bounce of the wall and skitters to a stop near those shineyscuffed docs, then the bootsteps are all that signals Mr. Tophat's departure from the alley
(sterling)
*he doesn't seem to hear the man talking to him, he's kinds lost in his own world, but, when the bag stops next to his foot, he does kinda glance over at it, although he doesn't look back down the alley... Again, no eye contact, not now... But, he does reach out and take tha bag of jerky, tearing into it quickly to grab out a piece and wolf it down.He waits now, quietly, in the alley, for the man to leave... But, he'll probably stay the night here anyway - it's as good a place as any*
Posted by james at 12:00 AMSeptember 10, 2002.09.10.02. - prediliction for silence [sappho][north jersey]
(james)
it's the picture of a man paused in motion, frame settled upon a turned over bucket, tattered longcoat folded into a neat tailbone preserving pillow, second-hand service boots complimenting nicely the surplus black BDUs that are, get this, beneath a faded gray surplus t-shirt..... now that moves.... probably because of the heavy tribal beat thumped from the steel barrel turned steel drum in this street corner charadelight brown dreadlocks bounce with the beat, his eyes mostly closed - but that amazingly easy grin for some reason still sticks around
whether it's widening for the occasional coinage or bill dropped into the overturned patchwork tophat beside his boot, or perhaps something deeper, something caught up in the rhtyhm that no mere mortal could understand
the cloth based rebar moves in a vision thing tapdance all it's own, trapped flashing in the hands of one homeless vagabond who seems like some gutterball rank got caught up in the wrong derelict carnival at the wrong time
maybe he plays for the money
maybe he plays for himself
maybe.....(sappho)
Maybe she watches (she: this wiry, small and dark form slung against a stoop) because she's taking the measure of american streets and american street music. Maybe she watches (she: her dark, ripe lips pulling down sullenly) because she (is a Wolf: that is what they do when in the presence of humans. Watch, spectral, from the shadows: and scare) 's disdainful of the male past-time. Gee, look. Banging on a trash can. Isn't that something special.Maybe it's just because he's that good.
Whatever the reason, for the past five minutes James has snagged a semi-permanent member of his audience, eyeing his grin and his rapid-moving hands... head canted, arms folded, still.
(james)
tis otherwordly, isn't it
like he isn't even thereand maybe he's not, if you perchance could happenstance the intricacies in the tune bashed from what was once only a lowly steel barrel igniting a vagrant's dreams of warmth now turned super-tuned drum of divine devotion, inspiration
and maybe a little magick too
street magick
and those eyes finally open with a wink aimed at a pretty girl, frame so deceptively muscular lifts from the bucket and now the rhytmic thumps being in earnest, doubling, tripling and, even, every once in a while skipping a beat just for flair, just for flavor - just to show what the boy man street performer can really do(sappho)
all the same; Sappho crosses one leg over the other hooking the crusted-tire-track-heavy edge of her sneakers and rakes a snarl of dark hair back behind one ear. A bag of doritos crackles (aluminum silver siren and sirens' sailors blood red orange) and pops: the sound is lost below the (strangely primitive) candescance of palms against steel and steel against fingers. Beat, beat, beat-- know how that feels.(james)
like everything primitive - one must progress
and so does the urban tribeman caught in a persistance of time and memory which ebbs and flows from the pulse of muscles tendons hands and rebar against unforgiving steel until there's a climax that - just as with anything - comes entirely too soona silence soon heaving from the make-shift drum thick as the breath from a charger
all he has left to offer those gathered is the easy smile which never seems to abandon him"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, that concludes our performance..... please join us again for regular shows at 2, 5, and midnight, every other Sunday, six times a month....."
(sappho)
it's the voice; makes her narrow her eyes fractionally in contemplation turned truly measuring (or remembering) now. This is what a slicing intellectual glance looks like, folks. Place it. Place it. Popping and crunching a chip into her mouth even as she pulls herself up and (oh, violence) strides across the street. To donate, of course, to charity. Already a crumpled british pound is retrieved and then shoved back to be reborn as an american dollar. Place it. Place it.This shouldn't be so hard. Her nod is quick. "The next spice boy..." ...Sappho oh-so-friendly greets(a hoarse velvet-over-gravel voice). "...and already he books his tour."
(james)
there a chuckle running rogue from his grin, dark brow lifting"Oooohh..... Spice Boy is a new one.... but everybody's got to have their goals, hm?"
the overturned patchwork tophat picked up and the change sorted into the collection plates of various pockets, the rest of his gear soon packed or prepared for abandonment
"Here without the braying jackass tonight? Or is he cramping and fashionably late?"
(sappho)
"Ha!" slap. Palm against jean-clad thigh. Memory found. The dollar falls to whatever waiting pile of cash consorts at James' feet and she, "You." Her smirk is the kind of smile which draws from images of blood-dipped brushes and master painters--other wild (wyld) illusions. "I knew you." Her eyes narrow in (raging) amusement: sharp, sharp, sharp. "I believe he's in search of a working loo. Where we're staying not-so-five star."Sappho offers her palm (a slash of a scar across it). "Name?"
Curt, but. That was her.
(james)
the chuckle develops into a laugh as easily as the casual smile remains, patchwork top hat returned to his head and tipped as if it had been there all along, the other hand responding to the invitation of scar slashed palm"James Branson, madam, at your service...... sometimes called Jukebox or Drums-on-Skulls depending on the situation, ones like me earn many names in the trade....."
(sappho)
Her nod is edged and quick, dark (wildnymph) eyes flicking to one side then back to the metal-musician again. Xena? No. Xena would have gritted her teeth in a manly way and clutched James' hand for all that she was worth... well, alright. Perhaps Sappho has a strong grip, but it's more because of the leashed energy behind it--chained kinetic--then any need to prove. Anything.[Appropos.]
"Hope you don't earn any from me; name's Sappho," gracious girl, "also called Silvertongue," or decidedly not.
(james)
not to mention that if she crushed his hand he'd be quite out of luck in earning any money, so he's rather glad she doesn't feel the need to prove anything, actually preferring that she didn't - not all Ahrouns have to constantly raise their hackles"Considering how much the cramping setter slaps his lips I'm surprised you'd have a chance to call anyone names, Sappho."
winked in his grin, released grip put to work lifting and settling the longcoat over his shoulders before soon following suit with the Alice pack of his wordly posessions, slight longing filling him at the empty street save him and the warrior, but one can only do so much in a night, one supposes
"Is your group heading South for the same reason I am?"
(sappho)
Her smile.
[says volumes]Then.
Sappho slashes another glance to the left; ordinarily edgy or just the stink of the city? (and is it the city in general or a particular odorous stench individual to this one alone) Her hands find a place in her pockets, hip slumped up as she slouches around to his other side. Monster in man's clothing, examining her small shoe for gum--smeared gray against the worn and tattered web of (weaver's) cracks on cement.
"Bloody disgusting."
Then.
"That would depend, mate, on what reason your group was heading south."(james)
muscular shoulders shrug beneath the weight of coat and pack with little worry of strain - the city itself of little worry to him, he's visited far worse"No group.... just me. The barking chain spoke of a certain nastiness down South which I was sent to check out."
(sappho)
her head cants, 'gain. he has her full attention. (thick like honey) then, "loner?"(james)
"That's an interesting concept....."grinned, for one such as he, is ever truly alone?
"Not in the larger picture.... but let's say I don't have the backup that you do."
though packless, indeed, is he
(sappho)
idly sappho knocks her elbow and her hip into the over-turned steel barrel, drumdadum without real rhythm (but you know. the city. the city). "Hah, solo-artists screw up their second acts," her voice is curlingly disdainful. "Look what happened to that," layers of brooding silence between each word, "orange-haired.... spice girl."Then, "I reckon plays-with-prick would like some boytime. Obsessed with fairies, he is."
Grin. Wicked.
Fades almost as quick as it surfaced.(james)
but the wicked grin surely does not walk alone, one creepcrawling across his own lips as well"He does enjoy talking to his..... little friend."
his head cants beneath the patchwork tophat
"So what are you saying?"
(sappho)
"Not," (suddenly protective?, "that I've noticed a prediliction for silence in your case." Harsh.Crunch, crisp, break--another chip. Her steady gaze, unwavers; "Don't be a loner. Stop by whenever you can bring your yankee ass to be sociable, if you like."
(james)
"You've never before requested there be silence."a wink to break her steady gaze into his own eyes
"I'll keep that in mind, Sappho, thank you, I think I would rather enjoy it........ give the braying jackass my regards, hm?"
another smile, before coattails billow in the turn which takes him in search of tonight's cardboard palace
Posted by james at 12:00 AM.09.10.02. - gooood chit [starling-nathaniel][pine barrens]
(james)
it's amazing where a random stroll will land you, honestly.if at first you don't succeed, try and try again and boy did he try, and try, and try so then, before he really knew it, he found himself past the outskirts of the city and so far into the woods that.... well..... it really didn't matter did it, he was here, it was now, and by golly...... he should be nearing that Wendigo's territory again
so if opportunity knocks, so shall he
coupla nice hand-sized rocks picked up and smacked together to the tune of a nice little ditty which, well, should sound familiar if he's where he thinks he is..... poised to listen for any reply
(orion)
He chuckles and nods. "Sure...want to add some meat to it? elk goes good in chili(starling)
"If you know what you are doing." Smiles, freezing with the sound coming through the trees. "Hear that?"(james)
Mother always told him it was rude to yell, so he doesn't, not quite yetthis time only tapping the stones together in repeat performance.... maybe he was more lost than he thought
(orion)
Frowning, he turns and heads off through the trees once more following the sounds of the rocks.(starling)
Getting a little freaked when nothing comes back but the weird clacking sound. Heading for the tree fort and the weapons there when Orion moves off through the trees.(orion)
Moving closer to the banging rocks, he watches hidden in the shadows for a long moment
(james)
"Shoulda made that left instead of a right at Albequerque, Jamey-boy"shaking his head to set light brown dredlocks dancing on his shoulders into a dance all of their own, rocks replaced from whence they came and the patchwork tophat adjusted and returned to its proper position, second-hand issue boots choosing a new direction in which to stroll, tattered tails of the longcoat catching on a bush here or there..... and over there, too.....
(orion)
He finally says. "You normally come all the way out here to bang rocks together?"(starling)
Waiting and listening. Shotgun ready just in case. She didn't hear the strange sound anymore.
(james)
there's a monumental pause, before the lean boy swirls towards the voice..... nonchalantly plucking the end of one coattail from a slightly too touchyfeely bush and greeting the man with an easy smile"But of course.....you'll find the best rocks out here."
a loose shrug
"I always thought it rude to enter without knocking. So knocked."
(orion)
He nods quietly. "Catchy tune....who are ya?"(james)
the compliment warms the smile, reaching to tip the tophat into something of a bow"James Branson, at your service."
straightening and resettling the hat, the peer around slightly perplexed
"I was on my way to visit some good people, well, had hoped to since my stroll lead out here..... who might you be?"
((orion might notice some of the stitching on James' hat form glyphs, depending on how far away he is))
(orion)\(james)
the compliment warms the smile, reaching to tip the tophat into something of a bow"James Branson, at your service."
straightening and resettling the hat, the peer around slightly perplexed
"I was on my way to visit some good people, well, had hoped to since my stroll lead out here..... who might you be?"
(orion)
There's a pause asthe hidden man speaks...his voice sounds like gravel and tombstones in a crypt. "Orion."
(james)"Orion...... where have I heard that name befOH!"
head tilting most curiously
"Did Starling ever find you?"
(orion)
He nods quietly. "you know starling my Bone Gnawer friend?"(james)
oh...... and the smile warms even more, relaxation taking a stroll through his frame starting from shoulders and working down to toes - recognition saved half the introduction right there"How else would I know she was looking for you? And yes..... sort've.... not very well. We only shared a meal the other night but I thought since I was in the area I'd pay my respects to her and Nathaniel...."
it is his territory after all....
(orion)
He nods quietly. "I haven't met him yet. but anyways. come along."(james)
"Nice guy, really."grinned, falling into step behind Orion
(orion)
He nods quietly and motions him to move ahead of him. "Nothing personal...but I don't let anyone walk behind me.(james)
attention is carted back away from the trees and the occasional small glade, blinking a moment before that easy smile returns beneath brown eyes"No offense taken..... this way, yes?"
plowing on ahead as if he really did belong out here in the woods in a tattered carnival longcoat and patchwork tophat - Dr. Caligari eat your heart out
(orion)
He nods quietly. "Ayte...this way."(james)
hands slide loosely into the pockets of surplus black BDUs, in that way that keeps them free and clear and without the coat falling to cover them - while Orion is at his back he doesn't want anything paranoidally or accidentally thrown into his back for any apparent reason - whistling Gambler's Blues quietly under his breath and continuing on in what feels like the right direction(starling)
Quietly waits, watching through the opening from above. Wondering if something ate Orion or if he vanished again. Stomach growling, dinner getting further away by the moment.(orion)
Quietly waits, watching through the opening from above. Wondering if something ate Orion or if he vanished again. Stomach growling, dinner getting further away by the moment.(starling)
Nearly jumping with the sound of the voice before realizing it used her name and who it was. Slowly relaxing enough to climb down from the fort.
(james)
well, that beats arriving unannounced, doesn't it, the smile widening to welcoming - even if it isn't his camp, particularly - when he rounds the bend into now familiar territory, looking up and, wehell, there she is"Well hello there Starling, fancy meeting you here....."
(starling)
Relieved for one thing. A little surprised for another. Smiling at James as he speaks. "I didn't know if I would see you again. Welcome."(james)
"We tend to show up again when you least expect us to."chuckled warmly - and maybe a little wryly - tophat removed once he's within camp boundaries, mostly shoulder length dreds shaking loose as that trademark grin stays quite put
"Thought I'd drop by since I was in the area... wanted to see how you were."
it may have only been a matter of days, at most, but the Hood's concern is genuine
good people(starling)
"I'm good, thank you." Relaxing more. The meat still wrapped in the tarp and laying near the small fire pit along with the fixings for dinner. "I was going to make dinner earlier and had invited Orion. He brought a big side of meat, it was kind of him. Anyway, just chili, but you are welcome to stay too."(orion)
quietly he goes over and begins to slice meat for the chili.
(james)
brows lift a little - he had noticed the big thing in the tarp and could very well smell what it was - he may not exactly know it's elk, but it smells good, and venison is venison, it must have been a good hunt, nodding a bit as he reaches to search the seemingly endless amount of pockets on the longcoat, some keys jangling, something else rustling"I'd be delighted, Starling."
a sudden lightbulb sparking above his head as it seems he's found the pocket he's been searching for, pulling out a half-full box of spice tea, fairly unscathed
"Do you think this would set the meal off?"
a step closer, held up for her perusal - one should never go empty handed
(starling)
Grinning with the offer. "I think so. Why don't you relax and I'll go up and get a pot for water and a few other things, like cups." Turning for the tree. "I won't be long."(james)
"I can't argue that....."laughing softly, finding the place he chose the other night to settle by the fire, coat removed and lain over log as if a blanketing pillow and hat set neatly aside
(starling)
Clammoring up the ladder to the fort above to collect together a few more things. Then pulling the rope to get the basket up and load it before lowering it to the ground again. Once she's down again, lugging it all to the fire pit. "If you want, you can stay the night."(james)
at this, he looks somewhat surprised - breifly - though it's amazing how quickly that easy smile returns"If you don't mind...... I've found it's quite a walk out here, would be nice to see the last few miles of it during daylight in the morning. Nice country."
and even though she told him to just relax, as soon as she's done her part to lug the supplies over, he's reaching for the pot to go fill with water and start the tea
(starling)
Grins watching him a moment before starting to work on the chili. Squating down before the small fire with a blackened pot over it. "So, have you found any others out here?"(james)
it's a quick trip, and pretty soon he's back by the fire's heat and settling the pot to warm so the tea can start brewing, meeting her question with a soft grin"Other than the braying jackass, his companion the warrior princess, your furry man and now orion?"
dreds shake a bit as his head does
"Not yet. The hitch the other day didn't take me quite as far as I hoped... hence why it was so easy to get back here on a stroll..... I was actually heading to see if any of Our relations were still in Atlantic City, if they were faring well..... the barking chain spoke of some activity from the Nasties in these parts....."
(starling)
"There have been nasties a plenty. But who is the warrior princess and my furry man?"(james)
"The warrior princess is Sim....er.... Douglas' companion, I never caught her name. His and that guy Lucian's Alpha, I suppose. Chipper little bunch they were..... wonder if he always acts like his pantyhose are in a bunch. He should be happy he at least has pantyhose, nylons were quite scarce during the Wars, and still are for some of us. And Nathaniel...... I at least assume you and he are....."
just.... lets that drift off, nonchalantly placing a couple tea packets in the warmed water, inwardly cringing in hopes he didn't say too much inopportunely
(starling)
Glad for the dark as her deep coppery skin takes on a even redder hue. "Nathaniel is my friend. He has looked after me for weeks now, since Russell told him to."
(james)
too bad the white boy's skin doesn't hide as well as hers does, even tanned, his flush shows rather well - blame it on the fire, boyo, it's a reflection from the fire, right"Oh..... I..... uhm."
clearing his throat turns into a chuckling laugh, doing his best to duck and hide behind the ropey curtain of dreds, but it honestly isn't working, quite a shy smile finding a way to replace the easy one
"Well you know what they say about assuming something - must be right, now, hm?"
(pause!)
(starling)
Kneels near the fire pit to add a few more sticks to it. Then reaching for a long handled wooden spoon to stir the pot hanging over the fire. "So, did I ask you if you had family in this area?"(james)
this time his head shakes"No.... and not exactly. More distant relations. Immediate family's up north in Albany, but I've been in NYC a few years...... but the family there sent me down to check things out in Atlantic City and sort've..... find myself, I guess. What about you?"
(starling)
"I came here from Oklahoma. My family there had passed and so I found myself wandering in this direction to eventually end up here at the beginning of summer." Tapping the spoon on the side of the pot and scooting back some from the heat. Firelight dancing across her coppery face.(james)
and now it is the time for his head to tilt in canid curiosity, geneology and ancestry always did interest him"What native tribes?"
(starling)
Glancing towards him with a small smile. "How did you know it was more than one tribe?"(james)
the smile grows again, meeting hers with a wink as well"Call it a hunch...... living where I have for the past few years, ya find every tends to have more spices in them than not. I find it far more interesting anyway..... one of my pals was a linguist.... now he could tell you some interseting stuff about folks."
(starling)
"I am mostly Apache and Seminole, though my father always teased my mother about a little Osage in the ancestory." Leaning back a little against the trunk of a tree while watching him.(james)
a laugh finds its way to the surface"My dad always teased my mom she must have had some Uktena along the way..... though she swore it was only Yokut. Ah... it's done."
grinned, before reaching to take the pot from near the fire, hand held out for the cups
(starling)
Twisting to reach for the cups and hand one to him at a time. Moving a little closer so he can reach. "I am Uktena." Murmuring the words softly.(james)
the cups are set between them, so the spice tea steam can rise like a bath when its poured, then hers picked up to offer with both hands, his voice carrying just as softly"Chosen or Kin?"
(starling)
Cupping her hands around the offered cup to bring it towards her face to inhale the steam. Brown eyes meeting his over the rim of the cup, a grin flitting about her lips. "I thought it was obvious. Kin."(james)
there's another wink, picking up his own cup and blowing across it to make the steam curl up and dance around his dreads, quite the playful gleam in brown eyes"Sorta..... but I wanted to make sure before I said anything and assumed again. Ya got me paranoid about saying things now...."
(starling)
Laughing with a shake of her head. Holding one hand up. "I do? What did I do?"(james)
"Well, my dear....."chuckled again, gesturing carefully with the cup as if it were a grand scepter
"..... I"ve learned not to make assumptions anymore, less I go crawl behind a tree in embarrassment."
(starling)
Finally getting what he was talking about. Hiding her embarassment by taking up the spoon again to stir the chili. "It happens. Sometimes he tells strangers I'm his wife. And sometimes we have children too."(james)
well, she's not the only one affected, he, though, hides it in a long sip of the tea, chuckling softly"Safer that way...... I just put together my own little scenario becuase you were up in a treehouse in his territory and, well....."
lets that trail off into another soft laugh - put your foot into your mouth there, didn'tcha Jamey-boy? - but at least he wasn't that far off the mark, whatwith the last part of her comment, teasing
"Oh? How many little darlings are sometimes running around?"
(starling)
"You know." Pausing to look back at him a moment. "He never has said. And once he even said we were in the process of making one when someone turned up. I just about died." Turning back to the fire to fish the pot off with a dish towel and stick. "This is hot." Setting it down near the basket with the bowls and crackers in it.(james)
and the street performer's wallet emptying smile rises just then"Well you know..... timing is everything."
winked, once more, before leaning in a bit as the scent from the pot trails in the movement, his own torso leaning a bit to follow quite a bit like, well, a hungry homeless dog
"Didja ever think he was serious?"
teasing still, of course, but there's genuine curiosity - family is a wonderful thing
(starling)
"About what?" Brows furrowing as she fills one bowl to hand to him before offering a spoon and the packet of crackers. "We weren't...well...you know." Turning for another bowl to hide her hot face.(james)
he's careful with the bowl, biting his lower lip through the grin, stirring slowly to let it cool a bit"I know.... feel free to smack me if I'm being rude. You've just got a nice smile..."
(starling)
Turning back with a bowl for herself and crossing her legs as she sits on the ground facing him. "I wouldn't smack you for a compliment." Blowing across the bowl. "I don't know, Nathaniel is so sweet and he's been like a brother to me. Always teasing and picking on me."
(james)
"Those are the best kind!"smiled, before a first bite actually brings a quiver to his frame, practically melting along with the swallow - she may think it only chilli and some crackers mixed in with elk, but to him home cooking is divine.... even if it's out in the middle of the woods, and it takes a moment, but he finally pulls out of the mini food-gasm
"Well..... it was obvious even to me he really cares about you."
(starling)
"I care about him too. He always worries me when he vanishes like he does. I never know if he is alive or never coming back like Russell didn't." Dipping her spoon into the chili to blow across it before taking a bite.(james)
this causes him to glance up, studying her a second like a bard just before inspiration hits"You mentioned that Russel was gone..... I didn't know if it was appropriate to ask what happened....."
he's curious, by all means, because if it has anything to do with what he's about to face, he'd at least like an inkling of an idea of what he's getting into
(starling)
"All I know is he was killed by something out here. We have had problems with Dancers and with things that seem to take many forms." Looking around at the dark. "That's why Nathaniel asked me to come stay out here. He thought it would be a little safer than where the things were turning up."(james)
there's a nod, somber, chewing silently a moment - it's always sad to loose a warrior, no matter what Tribe he's from, finally looking up after, well, several thoroughly enjoyed spoonfuls"Where..... are they turning up..... anyway?"
(starling)
Pointing off into the dark towards the city. "A dancer came to Kimber's place where I was staying. Only I didn't know that's what he was. And then there were these metal monsters between here and there. And one thing made of swamp water. Nathaniel says it was from someone dumping toxic waste out here. They thought it was all cleaned up, but I guess not."
(james)
there's a nod and a sigh"Things are getting harder and harder to clean up, things that shouldn't exist are...."
paused, for another spoonful, he's cleaning the bowl rather quickly
"He's right, it's a lot safer out here."
(starling)
"I know, that's why I agreed to come out here." There as that and that near desperate look in his eyes. "There's more in the pot if you want some." Not missing how he ate like a hungry wolf.(james)
those eyes light up, grinning almost sneakily but it was offered, minding himself to casually reach for the pot to refill his bowl rather than pounce on it like a juicy little lamb, chuckling softly as he knows it was a bit obvious - but he wasn't about to take without the offer"Thank you"
(starling)
Smiles with a nod while taking a bite of her chili. "You are welcome. Nathaniel eats like that. Always hungry I think. Though he does cook some too."(james)
"Waste not want not, as the adage goes"laughed a bit, a little sheepish (the irony) that his appetite is probably bigger than he is
"Happens when you're never exactly sure when or where your next meal's gonna be, or mostly how big it will be. And that's good. I was always taught to help out if I expected to eat, and never to go empty handed if I went visiting......"
(james)
"Do you mind if I ask what tribe you are? I get the impression you are not Kin, but Garou." Reaching for her cup to take a sip while watching him in the flickering light.(james)
there's a shake of his head, and that smile again - it always seems to stick around at varying levels, doesn't it"Bone Gnawer. Do you know Glyphs?"
he reaches for the tophat
(starling)
Giving a small shake of her head while watching him. "I'm afraid there are very few I know. Just the basics. Mostly to know family."(james)
oh, the smile widens, and he leans foreward a little, twirling a little then showing the patchwork tophat, fingers running along a strange yet specific criscrossing of stitches and patches"They're both really hard to see unless you're looking for them..... but this one's Bone Gnawer... and this one is for Brother Rat."
leaning a little more to draw both in the dirt between them, so she can really see
(starling)
"Brother rat?" Not sure if he had a brother he called rat or what. Watching his movements closely. Dark hair falling forward to curtain her face.(james)
well, knowing his Tribe, he may very well have a brother called Rat
but there's only a chuckling smile, reaching to wipe away the Glyphs - it is a Wendigo's territory after all"The great spirit Rat, he guides and protects Us. And a good way to recognize if you're in a Gnawer's territory...."
(starling)
Wishing Nathaniel was here to hear this. Maybe he knew more and maybe he would of learned something with her. Nodding while storing away that bit of information. "I didn't know that. Where do Gnawers generally stay?"(james)
ah, but what use is knowledge if it is not passed on
and the bowl is cleaned once more and set aside, sip of tea taken to cleanse the palate"We're generally found in Urban areas..... " not exactly including that's why most Garou don't like them "....though there are a few woodsly Camps."
(starling)
"Ah, so in the cities and perhaps reservations?" Nodding while taking another sip. Storing away the knowledge gained.(pause!)
(james)
nails scratch along scalp at the base of his skull to stimulate a little thought"Possibly reservations, though I don't know anyone personally, but you'll find us in every city in this nation..... something that doesn't quite sit well with the other Garou."
there's a shrug, loose
(starling)
Contemplating how she was going to preserve the elk and get it up in the tree as she listens to him. "Hmmm? Why is that?" Her attention sliding back to James to study him.(james)
"Well that, dear Starling, depends on who you ask....."winked, though he noted her glance to the elk
"Want help getting it upstairs?"
though he has no idea how to preserve it, food never lasts long enough where he comes from for it to be preserved
(starling)
"Well I don't think that way and I'm sure Nathaniel doesn't thing bad of someone cause of tribe." Heck between them both they had very little experiance and knowledge of other tribes. Her gaze going to the Elk again. "He said he cured it. Not sure how. But I was thinking I can't leave it down here, a bear might come along and get it. And so maybe I'll have to try and dry some of it out over the fire and the rest is going to have to go to the bears. I don't have electricity or a freezer out here."
(james)
his laughter returns"Well..... both of your Tribes don't think that incredibly lowly of us.... the 'Lords, though, boy can we get their knickers in a bunch."
the gleeful snicker backing those words might imply that sometimes its on purpose, then his head tilts
"I can help you cut it to strips for drying..... if you had a garbage bag or something waterproof you could refridgerate the rest to keep until tomorrow's meals."
(starling)
"I'm afraid I don't have the means to refridgerate it up there." Grins pointing to the tree house. "Though I have a couple sharp knives up there and a rack for the fire we can use to dry it on." Rising and collecting the dishes to take to the creek to wash out.(james)
his head shakes with a grin"I didn't mean up there. If you had a way to waterproof it, the creek's cold enough to refridgerate something overnight"
(starling)
"Oh, I never thought about that." Frowns considering what was up there. "Well, there might be something. I had a couple bags I hauled some of my stuff out here in." Swishing the bowls and utensils around in the water. She'd wait till daylight to boil water to clean them better.(james)
nods a bit"It works pretty well, I lived on the Harbor for awhile and that's what we used to chill some of what we scrounged."
(starling)
Stacking the wet dishes before rising and drying her hands on the seat of her shorts. "I'll go up and get the bags. Then tomorrow we can slice it and dry what we can. This should last quite some time, cured."(james)
grins and takes his turn going to wash his hands in the creek, leaving little handprints across the BDUs in efforts to dry them"No kidding..... that was quite a gift from Orion, you can do all sorts of things with cured meat over time."
one tenet from his background showing through - everybody eats - and for the guy to leave a side of elk to feed her for so very long, it's quite renowned...... so to speak
(starling)
"Yes, it was very kind of him." Calling down on her way up. Returning a couple of minutes later with two very wrinkled trash bags. "Here they are."(james)
he's already picked the meat up after rewrapping the tarp around it - every layer helps, he's sure - and helps to place it in the first bag then inverse the second bag to make sure it stays watertight"Got any spare rope?"
(starling)
Nodding before heading for the ladder again. "Yes, upstairs of course." Shaking her head with a wry smile before climbing up. Calling out the opening after a moment. "Anything else you can think of?"(james)
"Well of course!"grinned, even cavalierly
"You don't think you'd get to enjoy a great meal and not have to immediately work it off by vast amounts of calestenics, do you?" a moment of thought "Well, a tent stake of some type may be good, if not, we can make do."
(starling)
"Um, I think we are going to have to make due. I don't have tent stakes. I do have a small hatchet." Her face appearing in the opening of the tree fort.(james)
"Well..... if your rope is long enough..... we can tie it to this tree right here there's overhanding the creek a bit."(starling)
Tossing the rope down to him, it's in a loose roll. Plain white corded rope like used for a clothesline. "How's that?"(james)
"Perfect!"a hand extending to snag the coil before it's wound around the package like a Christmas ham, tied neatly with a rock for weight, and he stretches to securely fasted the rope around a branch and sploosh! in goes the meat, nice and neat, safe from the fishies and all but a scuba-diving bear
"Just pull that loose end there and the knot will untie without your taking an unexpected bath."
(starling)
Grins coming down again. "What, you're not going to be here to help with it?" Brows lifting while looking to him.
(james)
there's a bit of a pause, and even a blink or two, grinning almost boyishly shy at that one"Well.... it's your camp...... and I didn't wanna impose by staying too long and all...... but of course I'll help if you want me to."
he knows he was gone by daybreak last time, it's never good to overstay one's welcome, and he's made a habit of keeping the tenet alive
(starling)"Well I said you were welcome to stay overnight. But you also said you would help with the Elk and I'm going to hold you to it." Pausing a moment, trying to decide if she should give him a pillow and blanket or let him stay in the main room.
(james)
truth in that, there is, he did offer to help, and he wouldn't dare go against that offer, sometimes old habits die hard, don't they"No worries, I will not abandon you to the task, fair lady..... just toss a rock down at me when you wake."
obviously, he doesn't expect anything more than a little bit of space by the embers of a doused fire
(starling)
After a moment's more contemplation, speaking softly. "You can sleep in the main room if you want. I don't think Nathaniel would mind too much."
(james)
that....... takes him a little by surprise, blinking as he looks to her"You're..... sure?"
any kind of shelter never passed up, looking rather excited at the prospect, honestly, but it's just that it's far more than he's used to, and he's also a little frightened of going that far into a Wendigo's territory
(starling)
"I'm sure I invited you." She wasn't so sure what Nathaniel would think and hoped he didn't get mad at her. Their one fight had left them both storming off. Forcing a smile into place. "Besides, he knows you."(james)
there's a great pleasure shining warmly in brown eyes - a shelter, well-made, dry, oh, and warm by it's own devices rather than his"I'd be delighted, Starling, thank you."
(starling)
"You're welcome. It's not real fancy, but Nathaniel fixed it up real nice and he worked so hard on it." Smiles sitting down near the firepit. "You'd never guess he grew up in the city."(james)
he reaches to pour another up of tea for them both, head tilting
he actually wouldn't guess it"One of his in the city is a rare thing..... least in my experience. Bonies, Walkers, Lords, Fangs..... coupla Fianna and Coggies, even a Fury or two.... but never Wendigo"
(starling)
"Yes, he had a not so good home life until he was pretty much kicked out by parents not worthy of the name." Accepting the cup with a smile. "He's a good man and he works hard to protect those he cares for."(james)
there's a knowing, if somewhat sad, nod"That seems more the norm these days for our kind, honestly."
a soft chuckle ending the thought, he hears more hard-luck cases than anything, and sometimes wonders if there's such thing as good luck anymore..... then he remembers himself and it goes away
"And I noticed that..... looked like he was ready to skin the braying jackass and I there for a second the other night until I was able to explain things. Douglas'...... uh..... rapier wit.... didn't exactly help much."
grinned
(starling)
"He was rather rude and asking for it. I thought Nathaniel was going to completely flip there for a few moments." Grinning while lifting the cup for a sip.(james)
there's a bit of a sigh again, though he can't help the chuckle"Well, the Irish Setter did have a nasty case of PMS. But that's still no excuse for neglecting one's manners, now is it. If Nathaniel tore into him I had half a mind to help."
even if it wouldn't have been fair, a strong wind seems like it could break the Theurge, but the sentiment was there.... he wasn't exactly fond of th way Douglas was talking to anybody, to be truthful
(starling)
"PMS? No, I think he's just ill mannered and has gotten away with it far too much for his own good."(james)
"Not to mention uneducated! I'd half a mind to slap him for calling the tune I was whistling Pop"(starling)
Laughing with that one. "Well I don't really know him other than that unexpected meeting the other night. But I can say he wasn't entirely pleasant. Though there are many that have an unpleasant feeling around them. He on the other hand seemed to go out of his way to be that way."(james)
laughter is infectious, isn't it, because he's caught on too"You've got that right...... I suppose misery loves company, hm?"
stifling a bit of a yawn, it's been a long walk, but he's enjoying the conversation and company too much to give in quite yet
(starling)
"I suppose so." setting her cup to the side. Her attention shifting to the woods around them. "Oh, there's an outhouse off that way." Waving to a small path behind the tree fort. "Nathaniel made that too. And um, I do have a few warm cokes up in the fort." Smiling to him.(james)
there's a bit of a chuckle, looking off towards the path in the darkness"You've got quite the place out here, then.... seems he went all out."
actually, quite impressed...... but the mention of the cokes gets his attention - that's not something he often has
"Really?"
trying not to look like a conventional kid at Christmas
(starling)
"Yeah really." Her grin widening before standing to wave him towards the fort. "Come on, let's get them." Already planning the next hike into town to resupply. as she leads the way to the ladder.(james)
you...... don't really have to ask him twice, do you..... there's a quick check around to make sure everything's cleaned up except the fire which is low anyway and they'll be able to see it from the fort so there's barely a beat missed before he's following her to the ladder, and right on up(starling)
The tree fort consisting of one big room with a smaller section closed off. A bunch of pillows, blankets, and some shelves with things stored on them. There's even a window on one side, looking out over the dark woods. "It sways, but you get use to it." Waving towards the pillows. "Have a seat." And continuing to the far end to grab a couple of cans of coke. Returning to hand him one.(james)
he can't help the curious perusal of the fort, grinning from ear to ear as he claims a few pillows for himself and teases"Swaying's half the fun...."
and he can't believe he just said that
so, uh, takes the coke with a gracious smile and hopes the subject changes soon before he says something without thinking that really embarrasses himself(starling)
She wasn't certain what he meant by that but her face felt warm. "Um yes, though when it storms and the wind gets real bad, it can make you feel a little sick." Plopping down on a pillow and cracking her can open to take a sip that makes her eyes water. "Good stuff."(james)
and the young Gnawer will probably pretend he doesn't know what he meant by that either and, uhm, hope she doesn't ask, though the shy smile sorta gives him away completely, but she could have handed him gold and it may not have gotten the sparkle in his eyes at the red can did (it's the little things) caaaarefully cracking it open and taking a slow sip as if it were ambrosious wine rather than a simple carbonated drinknot often he gets an entire can to himself
sighing with a grin
"Divine stuff....."
(starling)
Laughing with a nod. "One thing I will walk all the way back to civilization for." Taking another sip. "One time Nathaniel went to get pizza for us and even with everything that went wrong with his trip, he still remembered the cokes."(james)
that easy grin finds its way to his face once more"I remember once when some cronies and I went through a dry spell for awhile, had to do more scrounging or rely on gifts for food than anything..... then one of us got enough money for everyone to go to McDonald's. "
a near orgasmic shudder ripples through his frame for effect
"I didn't mind going hungry for a while for a meal like that..... cheeseburger all melted and drippy....fries.... and an enormous coke."
(starling)
Watching his face as he speaks. Getting a small look inside him for a moment. "How old are you anyway?" Cocking her head slightly.(james)
when the grin was boyish, it was apt, and his own head tilts a bit in thought and calculation"Twenty......One?"
(nathanial)
And from the trees
silently
He emerges and stands at the base of the tree...
Glancing up where he heard the voices coming from...
funny, the place that was suposed to be so far off and desolate for safety was now more of a tree fort
But hell he couldnt expect her to be alone in a fucking forest...
One could go crazy...
From the base of the tree he chuckles and calls up
"A party without me?"(starling)
Nearly choking on a swallow. Laughing with a dhake of ehr head. "You're not sure?" Pausing in surprise with the sound of the voice from below before scurrying over to look down through the opening. "Nathaniel! Where have you been! And where's my present?"(james)
he..... well..... jumps a bit at the voice, even if it's chuckled, glancing nervously at the door then back to her with that boyishly easy, and slightly apologetic, grin"Not..... exactly....."
then to hear it's Nathaniel, well, he's not so nervous (okay, he is, it is the Wendigo's territory after all, and while he has permission from her to be here, he doesn't have it from him, and, dammit, calm down Jamey-boy)
(starling)
Looks back at James with a grin. "I never know when he's going to show up or not." Her attention going back to the opening. "Well, come on up!"(nathaniel)
Scaling the branches avoiding the 'steps' he made for her The 18 year old native american pops into the fort
looking relaxed
Sure he could play tough and my space territorial But the young Wendigo wasnt wired that way...at least not when Russell wasnt around, and since he was dead, Nathaniel didnt have to act any certain way if he didnt want to.although sometimes he felt like Russell was watching him
"Present...I thought I WAS your present" he smirks and reches in his pocket pulling out a king size Snickers bar..
"But i did remember chocolate" he winks..and turns to the guy
she let ya up, your kewl with me till ya do something to piss me off The smirk grows.."Nathaniel...and you are??" he waits, pretty relaxed and calm, shirtless and barefoot an usual
(starling)
"Oh baby!" Snatching the candy bar before hugging Nathaniel tightly. "You remembered!" Grinning with a look over to James. "That's James, the nice one from a few nights ago that we let stay near the fire. The one with the food. Remember?"(nathaniel)
He doesnt but he nods..and wraps his arms around her in a hug lifting her off her feet and grinning at her, then placing her back down, and looking around for a shirt..
glancing back at her, he chuckles..
"any strange troubles i should know bout? any knees i need to break?" he smirks(starling)
"No, Orion brought some Elk meat and I made chili and James helped to hide it in the creek till morning when we can slice it and smoke it." Thinking a moment. "Oh and, it's been real quiet and I told him he could sleep up here tonight, if you don't mind."
(james)
there's a quick grin at Starling which translates to "that makes two of us" because that's the second time Nathaniel's appeared out of nowhere upon the scene, now isn't itchuckling a bit
"Yes, but I've returned without the braying jackass this time."
(nathanial)
He nods and sits down on the wood floor.."right on" he smirks and leans back against the wall glancing around...
"man im gonna have to add an addition eh?" he smirks.."you know how to bang nails and put up walls?" he jokes, "cause my girl here is making the small tree fort a commune" he nudges her,
but it was fine, he really didnt care, not yet, not unless the guy overstepped some sort of boundry(starling)
Smiles with a look between them. "Well, he's nice and um, you know how picky I am. There's few I like." And wasn't that the truth. She'd pissed off more than one in the past.
(nathaniel)
He chuckles and looks at James..
"good thing you dont have a horse"(starling)
Nearly choking again with that one from Nathaniel. Starting to laugh so hard she can barely catch a breath.(nathaniel)
He smirks and pokes her in the ribs.."well i thought i should warn him dont ya think?"
(james)
boundary? oh no, he wouldn't be staying if it weren't for her hospitality and kind offer, and it's simply not in him to do something rude in another Garou's space - his elders would skin him, even if they were a state away, chuckling"I can hold my own, mate, if it's needed...... since you're givin my a place to sleep tonight, ask anything you need anyway."
but the offer gets lost in the laughter (its contagious)
(starling)
"He's not like her." Swiping at her eyes and still giggling. Then unable to resist making a snorting horse sound. "Ye haw!"(starling)
Standing after a moment, still grinning. "Well, I'm going to head for bed. I hope you two don't mind. Nathaniel can point out the blankets and stuff. Night." Turning to head behind the wall.(nathaniel)
He chuckles and shakes his head...
"wanna head down" he nods his head towards the fire,
"trust me you dont wanna keep her up when she is trying to sleep"
he motions a cutting motion across his neck
(james)
there that smile again, waving"Goodnight Starling, thank you..."
the coke (an entire one!) lifted in salute, before turning back to Nathaniel, and nodding with a soft laugh, unfolding from the pillows and heading on down the ladder
inordinately carefull with the 3/4 can of coke, not. spilling. a. drop!
(nathan)
He skips the ladder and scales the branches (always up in the trees, moving along the branches) HE meets James by the fire
dropping from one of the lower ones, and chuckleing..
"So what brings ya out here, you obviously arent from here right?"(james)
"Oh no."smiled, easily, getting comfortable against a log with the ease born from one that can get comfortable just about anywhere when needed, though he's much more relaxed here than some places
"I'm from NYC, most recently. Sort've moving south little by little."
(adds)
"I felt like a walk earlier and sorta wandered back this way, ran into Orion and Starling and got invited to dinner."
(nathan)
He nods and pokes the fire, or the smoldering coals..as the case may be as he sits with James.."New York...busy place..."
He nods...and shakes his head..
"Orion, i keep hearing his name..." the smirk grows..."He seems to be taking a liking to Starling eh?" his brow raises as he asks...directing all his attention to James(james)
"Very... but the barking chain talked about things down here getting busier. And he did bring an entire cut of elk....."that may mean something entirely different to the Wendigo, but that's some pretty impressive gift of food when looking through a Gnawer's eyes, shrugging loosely
"I'm not sure, I've heard his name a lot too, but just met him tonight. He has a penchance for disappearing just like you for appearing out of nowhere."
(nathan)
He nods..perhaps pondering something and then shrugs a bit...
"I see" he shakes his head.."thats good to know" he chuckles.."cant wait to meet him"
(james)
a bit of a smirk of his own growls, chuckling"I'm sure he'll show up again."
another slow, exquisitely appreciative sip of the coke taken again - you can bet he's making it last
(nathan)
He chuckles.."so whattya do, whats your story..." eyeing the fire which is beginning to take life again..
(james)"I'm a street drummer by trade..... if you can call it that. But currently I'm more of a scout. Sent down from NYC to see why things were seeming a little awry further South."
he's.... very aware of that fire springing back to life
"Suppose it's to be a learning experience for me."
he doesn't look much older than Nathaniel does, honestly
(nathan)
HE nods.."learning experiences, gotta love them" he chuckles and continues making the fire grow..
Glancing up at the tree house type structure as he pokes then returning his gaze to James..
"I had someone I was learning from, since im so young and wet behind the ears" he mimicks someone..
('yeah kid, your wet behind the ears)
But the person he mimicks he actually had much respect for, this was just his way...."But since he's gone, im kinda taking a vacation from the whole learning thing, i just watch out for her..." he nods his head up at the tree..
"anything happens to her.." he looks directly at James.."well im sure you can just guess"
(james)
"We're a mobile Tribe..... it was my time to go somewhere else to get more Stuff under my belt and learn something new, so I was sent. You never really stop learning..... least you shouldn't."just "I" - no one else to help the guy out, let's just see how resourceful one can be, his words not exactly advice, just as the respectful mimic, it's just his way, nodding a bit as he listens
"She mentioned he didn't return one day, and that's her biggest fear about you..... she's a nice girl though, I don't blame you for being so protective."
(nathan)
He nods.."ill always return, at least as long as i have a choice" he smirks."and im pretty smart, and what i lack in knowledge i make up with speed and silence" he chuckles.."yeah shes a nice girl..."
(james)
"Good plan"toasting a bit with the coke, still steadily emptying, and still superbly savored
"So...... how many kids did you two have running around again?"
indeed, he and Starling have been talking all night, and he hides the smile for the tease behind another sip from the can
(nathan)
He blinks a bit and tries to figure out what the hell....pausing
Then finally getting the joke, or at least thiking he did..
"which time, every time someone harassed us id come up with a better story, i think we had 6 kids once, and maybe 9 another time" he chuckles..shrugging his shoulders..
"ya know.." he quiets, and his eyes move to the fire as he pokes it.."She doesnt really know.."
another pauseand a shrug.."anyways..." he smirks.."so you sticking out in the woods or you staying in the cabins back near the real world of the woods?"
(james)
the smile stayed easy, that's exactly what they had been talking about, noticing the shrug and pause and sideswipethought, but, well, he doesn't say much of anything about it, moving along with the conversation - he is, after all, a guest"I'm more a native of the concrete jungle..... I'd be on my way back there now if Starling hadn't invited me to stay."
(nathan)
He nods.."yeah well twister made it so i dont do so well in the concrete jungle" he chuckles.."i kinda leave my mark i guess" he smirks
"She doesnt like to be alone, shit i dont blame her, she didnt know id be popping back, but here i am, you are welcome to stay, its late now, plus who wants to haul ass all the ay back out there now?" he chuckles
"you burn?" he raises a brow(james)
there's a nod, sending light brown dreds playing over his shoulders"I don't blame her, from what we've been hearing about down south, I taught her a couple Glyphs to look for, should she ever be in the city and need help..... though I wouldn't particularly want to be alone either."
though, packless as he is, he doesn't have much of a choice, and then that head tilts, curiosity bright in his eyes
"Burn?"
(nathan)
He chuckles..and holds an invisible joint to his mouththe guy had dreads, so hell he may as well ask
(james)
oh! yes, you meant burn
that must have been a longer walk than you thought, Jamey-boy
but to cover it all, the grin slides easy once again, nodding with a bit of a sheepish (isn't that ironic) chuckle"Yea..... but the last time I was able to get ahold of any of that was about the same time I had a full one of these to myself."
cheers the can a bit
(nathan)
He chuckles.."Russell showed me where it grows freely and hidden" he smirks.."Starling isnt too into it i dont think, so i keep it to when im hanging out alone" he smirks and pulls out a small pouch drom his pants pocket...the pipe Russell gave him already packed and ready to go..
"i never take much, was taught that too, i dont sell it or nuttin, just enjoy it, and i plant seeds when i take..ya know, replenishing" he chuckles..
and hands the guy the pipe
"watch it, its good" The Ragabash smirks and nods handing him the black lighter along with it(james)
the Gnawer's jaw nearly drops as the pouch is pulled out
elk, chili, a warm place to stay, an entire can of coke, and now weed?!somebody pinch me
he tries not to simply fall over himself in scooting (more zipping) closer to be within easy reach, can placed carefully within the confines of crossed legs as the pipe is taken with a near reverence and the hit taken with some madd skillz - light, steady, smooth, eyes closing with a serene smile to pass the pipe back, holding, holding, holding (23 skiddoo)
"Thaaaaaaank yooooou"
exhaled on a cloud of smoke
(nathan)
He laughs and nods...watching the guys rection as if he handed him the holy grail..
ahhhh"No problem, its nice to have someone who appreciates the finer things in life" he smirks and watches James...
"It tastes good too" he chuckles.."you running alone? or you got a pack with ya?"
(james)
smiles through another serene exhalation"It taste diviiine"
when you've lived on scraps and leftovers for a better part of your life, something so pure is a grail all of its own, and if nothing else, the full moon Gnawer knows how to show appreciation, though his head shakes a bit
"Nah.... it's just me and my drumsticks."
(nathan)
He nods...not offering, since he was unsure about much of the whole pack thing..
he smirks looking at the gnawer and the pipe.."hey dont forget to pass it" he chuckles..
"I had a pack, well i had one other..actually at one time there were 2 others, one disappeared, one died" he shrugs..
"so i guess im kinda on my own too, but hell it doesnt matter to me, i wasnt taught a whole helluva lot bout this whole thing, i mean, i know enough, and thats all kewl...but"
he shrugs.."whatever, i just had to get away fromt he folks ya know" he sighs.
"and they arent around anymore either, so that leaves me, me...my home in the trees...and her" he nods his head in the general direction of Starling
(james)
he swore he did, but makes sure this time to hand it back over, immediately - one pipe, one lighter, two Wendigo hands, got it"I had something of a pack once, it was never a formal 'pack' or anything..... just a bunch of us kids that hung around each other for company and safety while we were learning the ropes the first years after the Change. More littermates, I'd guess. Soon as we were old enough to start hitchin' properly and head out to get more Stuff under our belts, we split. Hear through the barking chain the good and the bad."
he glances back towards the treehousefortcommune and nods
"Helluva place you built."
weed, carpentry, all makes sense now
(nathan)
(oops) thenHe hits the pipe and holds in the smoke....as long as he ca before letting out a long cough with puffs of smoke accomapnying it
He laughs.."yeah well i wanted to have a place in the middle of no where...i like being up in the trees, it was a lot different before Starling came out here, i added stuff to it, she had a bit more needs then i did, " he chuckles and passes the pipe back....
"I mean so far so good, she hasnt added flowerey curtains or anything, and i like the half-wall on the east side...you can watch the sunrise" he nods...leaning back a bit.."It didnt take long to build, but its sturdy, and mostly hidden, except for all the friends Starling meets" he chuckles(james)
there's a grin, and a stretch, and another long smooth hit drawn into his lungs (being careful indeed), keeping up the rotation before he slowly exhales - you may not be tokin if you ain't chokin' but he has a little forethought so he doesn't hack up a lung for a gift, another sip of coke soothing the smokey burn, chuckling"Well.... I won't tell a soul about it.... though she doesn't quite seem the type for flowery curtains......"
(nathan)
he nods.."yeah no shit" he chuckles..."shes one firecracker...she isnt one to fuck with thats for sure" he chuckles..
Taking the pipe and drawing a big hit before handing it back to James..
"i dunno...sometimes i wonder...."
he stops and looks at James
then he laughs...."sometimes i wonder how the hell i can forget a sentence midway"(james)
that laughter is rich and mirthful - no question how he's enjoying himself and the company - he will have to find a way to pay him back, surely"I think, my friend...."
holds up pipe and lighter, still chuckling
"..... this may have something to do with it."
winking before his next (and probably last, it's been so long, he may not be able to make it back up the ladder) hit, passing before settling in to let the high wash over (gooood chit)
"Or maybe you just weren't ready to say it yet."
Posted by james at 12:00 AMSeptember 07, 2002.09.07.02. - scene one, take one [playtest][pine barrens, new jersey]
(james)
when the car pulls to the side of the road, out steps a character direct from a derelict carnival - the all inclusive package being extricated from the back seat seems to be accessorized with what resembles a tophat with more patches than original fabric, a longcoat that's tucked into the straps of a well-beated (and bargained for!) Alice pack (sans-frame) and one man - hovering around six foot, brown eyes and light brown hair that's twined itself into dredlocksanother thing he wears is an amazing easy smile, especially at being dropped off at the intersection of a block of trees, and two highways - one that doesn't particularly lead where he wants it to
"Thanks for the ride."
a final pat on the steel horse's flank, a fond wave, and acceleration leaves said man standing alone on the side of the road, the lack of late-night traffic and the sign reading Atlantic City, X mi brings a sigh to those still smiling lips, well, a bit of a nibble
"Too far to walk tonight, Jameyboy, better luck catchin' a ride come mornin'...."
right-o.
now..... what will these trees bring us..... better a shelter and nice bed of pine needles than actually sleeping on the asphalt - he's done quite enough of that
(orion nightwalker)
He nods quietly. "Yeah it;s the best time to do so."(douglas ashthorn)
"...well, you bloody slag, you've gotten us lost again." This voice, decidedly griping, comes from yonder and dale, or however the old saying goes. Semi-old. Whatever. The point is, Douglas leans against a tree, scraping dead leaves and god-knows-what-other detritus from the bottom of his shoe. "Oh mighty Sappho, great and awful bottom-kicker of the Black Furies who doesn't need a map, oh no; who can find Garou from fifty kilos away if need be; who was oh so certain there would be cousins here. We've been walking around in circles for three hours, and you've yet to see so much as a glyph, much less hide nor hair of another. I say we stop right now and raise a howl. See what pops out of the woodwork then."(sappho)
this one, she's easy to goad into a display of temper, and her lips curve downward sullenly. "If don't you fucking mouth watch you'll be meeting your dreams right-quick!" she explodes, rounding on Douglas in an empty posture of threat--she's a little put out, too, after she stepped in the fifth hole of sludge.
(starling morningmist)
"I'm not so sure about that. I don't see so well in the dark. I'm likely to make more noise than anything else."(orion)
He smiles. "Come with me, I can watch out for you."(starling)
"What about my gun? I have a flashlight too up there." Jabbing a thumb back and up at the tree fort.(orion)
He shakes his head. 'A flashlight is a crutch...and a hinderance when hunting. just follow my steps...I'll go slow....Luna will guide us."
(starling)
Frowns a little uncertain while rising. "And I'm suppose to what, chew it's legs off in the dark and hope since I can't see I'm actually chewing on a leg and not something else?" Brushing her rear end off and looking around for her shoes.
(douglas)
"Temper, temper," chides the snide, lean man with the poet's moody mouth and very little else poetic about him. Thin as a rail, of average height, he is clever enough to take a step sideways in case Sappho decided to release her frustration on his head. "Just because the bloke at the pub called you a Xena with a British accent doesn't mean you need to use that tone of voice with me, young lady." Peering into darkness, he nudges his elegant, silver(color)-rimmed glasses up his nose a notch. "Hold up, now, I thought I heard something."(orion)
He smiles and hands her his Ka-bar. "Throw it.,,or bring your rifle...either way...just not the flashlight."(sappho)
"Grunt.(Growl.)"Sappho's most attractive feature is her eyes: great, large, dark and insightful eyes. They're also her least attractive feature: often clouded by a scowl or a flicker of (rage) anger. Or, and most often, this, made cutting by annoyance: see also when The Brit is around.
They also swing around, itchingly alert, while she slouches further downward. Fingers coil and uncoil into a fist--before she explodes with a short, angry sigh. "You're such a bloody cautious git, Ashthorn."
Cupping her hands around her mouth, she (ear-splittingly) shouts, "HALLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO."
(james)
four score and twenty steps or three within the line of trees - ever get the feeling something's watching you, Scooby Doo? - the man not quite dressed for this non-concrete jungle pulls up to a halt near some nice large boulders"You'll do nicely."
actually patting the top of the granite lumps before settling the pack to the ground and withdrawing two long shanks of rebar, each end wrapped in cloth - poorman's drumsticks, if you will - and crouches before the stones before delivering a gunning that echoes off the trees in a delightfully tribal rhythm, waiting in silence while the metal on stone strikes wade across the treetops
never hurts to knock and see if anybody's home
(starling)
Jumping slightly with the sound bouncing through the dark. Not sure where it came from. "That's no owl."(orion)
turning his head towards the sound, he stands slowly and hands her the .308. "Stay here..." with that, he slips offd into the darkness, Warhammer in his hand as he moves towards the sound.(starling)
Big ole knife in one hand. A gun in the other as he leaves her standing there. Muttering. "Awcrap, what now Batman?"(sappho)
(...and as the distant drum of a tribal beat explodes across the Barrens, practically in par with her banshee's scream...) Sappho contrives to look modestly smug, smirking at her companion in a, see, that's how you get things done, sorta way.And Xena yell comments WILL be prosecuted.
(orion)
comingf closer to the pair in ghost like silence, he watches the pair, slipping a tomahawk like hatchet from his belt, he waits for a long moment.(starling)
Yelling and drumming. Tonight wasn't giong to be as quiet as most had been lately. Wondering if the gun's safety was on and how to work it as she fiddles with it in the dim light of the small fire.(douglas)
"Yes well," twirling a pinky in one ear, then the other, "if that was a damned Black Spiral Dancer, we'd be dead now, thank you. Anyhow, I thought it went ay-yi-yi-yi or some such thing..."Trailing off, he automatically moves to her off-hand side, lips moving soundlessly as he gathers his spirit friends closer to him. As Orion appears, his lips stop moving silently and begin moving loudly enough to spit out a few cutting phrases.
"Oh, how precious. The Amazon and the Brave. I suppose you aren't a Dancer, since you're just gawking like a common pleb, and I suppose you aren't a common pleb after all, because common plebs have better sense than to carry around a bloody damn tomahawk."
He goes back to his silent murmuring.
(james)
now if that isn't a quick answer - even if it wasn't actually to his rhythms he'll damn sure make use of it - see what you get when adhering to hospitality's rules?up onto the rocks jumps the caped crusa..... erm.... the Ahroun, peering around and listening to see if any more noises come creep creeping out of the darkness
voices?
(orion)
And then the tomahawk is buried in the tree next to douglas' ear close enough to almost shave the hairs off, he speaks softly. "Were I a spiral you'd not have had time to get that sentence out. But i WOULD like to know who you are."(sappho)
Sappho flashes Douglas a single (coilingly) vicious glance. Her glances are eloquent when she is not. This one is insulted, as well, and says: maybe YOU would be dead. I, however......but all glances are to turn to Orion (the hunter) momentarily, and so they do. Dark, faintly narrowed--and suspicious. Was it REALLY that easy?...
"This asshole is Ashthorn 'Proud of Prick.' I'm Sappho."
(douglas)
"Ooo, big strong man. Save me, Sappho, he's going to make me his own personal poofter. Or at least spit out some semi-courteous words. I'm even worse at this introductions thing than you are."Even as he speaks, he slides surreptitiously behind the Ahroun Fury. That's what big strong ones were for, after all.
Then, frowning, "Douglas Ashthorn Speaks-with-Dreams, actually."
(orion)
He nods quietly as he Looks at the Fury. "Kin or Chosen?"(sappho)
The Fury ignores her packmate. "Chosen. You're the one we've been looking for?" Measuring. Not in her abrasive, overtly hostile manner; but rather intelligently. (How much like a dominant does this one seem?)(douglas)
"I wouldn't mistake her for your shag-toy," says Douglas from behind Sappho, removing his glasses to clean them, "she might get narked and twist you into a sailor's knot. Right hard, she is."(james)
yep, voices - how delightfuland the sticks get shoved back into the pack and the pack hoisted up onto his shoulders and we're off, over the river and through the woods and towards the voice's house we go...
cautiously, mind you, and listening quite intently
(sappho)
Grind.Her teeth.
(orion)
Looking at the pair, he speaks softly. "I am Roion Nightwalker. Fostern ahroun of the silent Striders. and I'll tell you once...be wary the spirals have beenseen around here more than once lately."(douglas)
Slipping his glasses back on, he seems to decide it's safe enough to slide back beside Sappho. "Spirals. I knew it. Didn't I tell you, Sappho? Run your gob like that a bit more and we'll be paste on the ground, see if we won't."Inhaling, he closes his eyes for a moment, opens them. "Mr. Squirrel-spirit tells me someone else is hiding in the trees. Two, actually. Go on, Sappho, shout some more. Maybe they'll come running out to bury hatchets in our throat."
(james)
lips purse sending out a little feeler to the whistled tune of Ghetto Woman
(sappho)
At the mention of Spirals, here, in what passes for semi-wilderness, her gaze sparks. Whether with more anger or delight isn't so clear."Here, but not dea--do you ever shut your ruddy mouth for one second?"
But Sappho is turning, sulkily, towards at least one of the hidden watchers, tensely.
Wouldn't be the first time a smoothetalkin' silvertongued spiral tried to put one over on them, talkin' all nice, all pretty, all Gaian, while lo and behold their vicious, scabrous pack surrounds 'em...
Or maybe it would.
Who knows?(douglas)
"Only when you use that delectable tone with me, dear Sappho," he replies, but quieter. Then the volume goes back up to his usual, "And, for your information, O Hidden Ones, whistling pop tunes is unlikely to make Sappho here any less edgy. Now Mr. Squirrel tells me you're all right, no ugly Banes circling your heads, so you might as well show yourselves."(james)
"Pop tunes?"
aghast, such a mortal wound to call such a thing.. a.... pop.... tune, and the dredlocked boyman rounds the last tree
"Now, as someone who clearly has no musical history under their belts, I'd be worrying ya'self about the plurality of voices in ya head.... far as I can see there's only one of me. Mr. Squirrel been having a bit much ta drink? Pop tunes....."
that head just shakes in mock disgust, education is so important
(sappho)
Hmph. No fight, no need to talk; let Mr. Bloody Assthorn do it himself, he's that adept. Sappho bends down to pluck a burr from her sock, slide into an impatient crouch. (Not very virtuous, Sappho.)"...lawd, now there's two of 'em 'Mr Squirrelin' now..."
(starling)
She was still standing near the small, dying fire with a gun in one hand and the knife in the other. Still wondering if she shouldn't make for the tree fort and to heck with playing Sheena of the Jungle.(douglas)
(back) Douglas fixes James with a trademark freezing smile. Watch and learn, young Padwan. "Trust me, Mr. Squirrel does not drink. There's another one out there all right. A bit of a dishy bird too, if Mr. Squirrel's telling the truth. He don't always do that, you know."(james)
shiverin' in his second-hand boots, he is, a brow lifting a bit, glancing a bit towards where Douglas seems to be - but by no means turning his back on either of them"Oh really now..... so since ya little friend told you I didn't have any nasties in my hat..... what would, hypothetically, my little friend tell me about what's circling your heads? Not to mention the dishy bird off yonder......"
two, maybe three, against one..... not the best odds, should fit shanning start
(starling)
Here she was standing here holding someone else's weapons, in the dark while he went who knew where. Sure she was hearing something out there. And every moment thinking she should hightail it up the tree.(douglas)
"You don't have a little friend," replies Douglas, unbearably condescending. "I do swear, these musclebound braindead wallies will be the end of me one day."Likely because they'll beat him to a pulp...
"I'm a Theurge, you dumb git," he continues without missing a beat, "and I'm talking to my little spirit friend, which you do not have, or my little spirit friend would have spoken to your little spirit friend already. Now, as for the dishy bird, walk that way," pointing straight in Starling's direction, "and I daresay you'll find out for yourself. If she doesn't run away from your musclebound blockheadedness first, that is."
(starling)
That was it. She had stood out here like a target for too long now. Tucking the gun and knife in her shorts and heading for the tree to reach up for the hand holds there. Then pulling herself up to scramble up into the tree fort.(douglas)
"...well," calls Douglas (who, indeed, never did shut up) from behind James, in case James was actually going to track Starling down, "now she's climbing in a tree like a frightened koala, and Mr. Squirrel is rather impressed by her ability. You might want to look up now."
(james)
"I said hypothetically, I never said I did Mr. Condescending. Should I use smaller words next time to be clear?"still, that easy smile..... the Theurge may not be a problem, but the crouching-tiger over there may be..... dishy bird it is
"And I'd honestly expect a Theurge to come up with more earth shattering and soul rending insults than dumb git. Having a bad day are we? Is he always this PMS'd?"
the last directed at the crouching-dragon, with a grin, but onwards towards the dishy.... er... treed bird it is
"'Lo? I will not eat you..... though I take no responsibility for whatever Simon happens to say back there..... helloooooo?"
(douglas)
"Try the Xena-yell!" shouts Douglas from a good ways back.
(starling)
Lining the knife and gun up near the opening to the tree fort. Then scambling back to find her shotgun. That weapon she had fired before and it had kicked the snot out of her shoulder, but it made an impressive noise too. Looking like she was getting ready for battle.(douglas)
"Uups, might want to be careful!" Douglas, he was smart. He wasn't going to go climbing after the frightened koala waiting to get his face kicked off. "Mr. Squirrel says the bird's picking up a gun now!"
(james)
company halts just before the dying fire, a brow lifting while tongue clucks something referring to admonission against the roof of his mouth"You know....... it's not really a good idea not to douse your fire while you climb up into a tree..... the Rangers would be appalled"
finally glancing up to the tree where she smells to be coming from
"I won't eat you, I don't have nasties circling my head, and I'm a far cry nicer than Simon back there...... you can come down now."
(sappho)
"You wanker," Sappho slices in. Belatedly, but no longer able to stew in silence any longer. "More likely she," and the short, wiry fury takes Asthorn's statements as canon, "managed to catch an earful of your utter shite and decided there were better things to listen to. I.E., ruddy president bush!""And, you!" Working herself into a dark, snarl of a temper again: averted by a sudden, flashing grin and a light-on-a-razor laugh. "He's got your measure, Mr. Condescending."
And, all casual, Sappho punches Douglas in the arm... rising to her feet, once more, and brushing at her jeans.
Surly, again, as quick as the grin fades.
(starlign)
The muzzle of the shotgun sliding down through the opening of the tree fort as she kneels at the hole. "I can see the fire and it's contained. Who are you and who is Simon and what do you want? I don't know what you mean by nasties unless you mean breath, but you try and come up here without an invite and I'll shoot first and run later."
(douglas)
"Oh, do hush up, Sappho," he says, rather good-naturedly for once, "this is just getting good, it is. Watch now, while the dredlocked goliath dances around trying to sound reassuring, the bird is going to shit on his head. Ha! I wonder if how big the caliber on the gun is. Hope I don't have to heal the bloke if he gets half his fool head blown off."(sappho)
"Might be an improvement," our wise girl says, unknowing.
(james)
hooks a thumb back over his shoulder, fairly unconcerned about the shotgun pointed at him"Simon is Mr. Condescending PMS back there who keeps talking to his...... " whispers "little friend" he can't help the chuckle "And I'm not sure who his companion is but I'd be more worried about her than his rapier wit. And me?"
the what was once a top hat comes off in a sweeping bow
"Name's James Branson, and I, personally, am just looking for a quiet place to stay the night but the braying jackass back there makes me think I have to move further into the woods to find any peace. Who're you?"
(douglas)
"I thought so too, but now I'm going to have to change my mind. Dear God, can't have Sappho agreeing with me for once; hell will freeze over, and then where will all the sinners go? Not my backyard, that's where."Another silence as he closes his eyes and moves his lips - the only time he has any shred of Theurgishness about him. Opening his eyes again, he continues as though he'd never had his little quiet time, "Still, I must admit, you were right after all for once, about these woods. I'm beyond surprised. Bloody gobsmacked, I am."
(starling)
Frowning while watching him and listening. Not sure what the heck he was talking about half the time. "Where's Orion?" Countering his question with one of her own.(douglas)"Gone to shit out another tomahawk, that's where," mutters Douglas under his breath, which likely makes no sense to his companion.
(james)
few fries short of a happy meal, or a few days short of a Ragabash - you be the judge - but there's little more than a shrug"Orion? I dunno Lady..... you may wanna ask Simon and Paula back there. Look, how about this. You stay holed up there, and safe, while I make use of this campfire and warm up some digs.... you don't even have to put the gun away. Once I've got some food in my belly, I'll be on my way but hate to waste a good fire..... I've even got a few Snickers bars I can leave in thanks. Sound fair enough?"
(starling)
Hesitating a moment before finally pulling the muzzle of the shotgun back up. "Ok, but no funny stuff."(sappho)
Her lip curls into a disdainful, yet soundless snarl--mirrored in those damned black-eyes of hers. "You call this woods?" Then, "You blo--I'll smack your gob, you little irish setter! What do you mean 'for once, you were right'?" Ah, but only the usual ammount of scorpion-sting taints her tone.(james)
"Fantastic!"that grin only widens, settling to pluck a can out from the pack and make himself comfortable by the fire
"No funny stuff, I promise..... and a Hood's promise is gold. You gotta name..... or do I just keep calling you Lady-In-Tree-With-Gun?"
(douglas)
"Irish setter?! Why, if you weren't my packmate," and if she couldn't mop the floor with him and then run him through a wringer, "I'll show you who's a ruddy Irish Setter, you two-bit cow."There's a bit more general muttering. Then, turning, he yanks the tomahawk out of the tree and hands it to her. "Here," he says, "you can toss that back to the Brave when he comes hurl another axe at my head. Preferably, toss it back between his eyes. I'm going to see if the dredlocked goliath has managed to coax the bird out of the tree yet."
(starling)
"Hoods?" Not sure what he was talking about. "I'm Starling." Looking down through the dark opening at him. Squinting in the dark.(sappho)
"That's right, n' scare her right back up, you fat-lobbed nog!" Sappho twists the tomohawk--needlessly violent--out of Mr. Ash's hand and sticks the handle through a belt loop. Quick, short nod--and a sneer. Then, wordless, she stomps off into shade and shadow.[Patrolling.]
May not be her place, but whose place is it? Fostern's like Orion just seem to let Spirals walk on in--and then, to allow a smart piece like Douglas...
...well, obviously the wood is slightly short-handed.
Never fear, Xen--Sappho is here. ('Sides, she'd love to run into a nasty fomori right now...)
(james)
he didn't think so, but that sure makes a difference in just how much you tell a stranger about yourself, doesn't it"Call it a..... system of belief, so to speak. Though I think it gets a little more theological than that."
looks up with a grin, tipping the tophat once again, Starling..... how fitting, there's a scant wonder of whether or not she sings
"It's a pleasure to make your aquaintance and use of your campfire, Starling...... hungry? It's not much, but I'll share...."
gestures to the cans of corn and stew that are warming by the fire
(douglas)
"Starling, eh? Well, that's fitting. A bird named Starling." Now alone (ripe for getting beat up, perhaps explaining why Douglas makes an effort to turn down his assholeness just a tiny bit), he drags a fallen log over with much effort and sits down. "Well, if she don't want any I do. I haven't eaten since seven a.m. when that demented cow dragged me out here to look for you guys, or someone like you."Have I got your name yet, mate?"
(starling)
Blinks looking down as another appears. Holy shit she was getting invaded. "Well who is that now?" Reaching for the shotgun again.
(james)
a brow lifts a bit as Douglas makes himself quite at home - uninvited - and he scoots over a bit to stay out of scatter range should the blast come"Starling.... meet Mr. Condescending with his.... little friend....... and no Simon, you never asked nor bothered to give yours."
(douglas)
"Ah, well then." Putting out his hand to James, "Douglas Ashthorn, Speaks-with-Dreams. Fianna Theurge. You going to come down out of that godforsaken tree now, Starling, or are you going to keep pointing that shotgun of yours? It's very phallic, you know. I might think you have a bad case of penis envy, or something of the like."
(james)
and it is then the grin returns (if it ever really went away) reaching out to clasp Douglas' hand"James Branson, Drums-On-Skulls, Bone Gnawer Ahroun..... and now tell me, Douglas..."
note he hasn't let go of the hand, either, and the boy has a grip - which could very well tighten uncomfortably, couldn't it, a brow lifting
".......other than slinging caustic remarks in all directions like a hippopotamus marking it's territory, even to the Lady here who's nice enough to let us use her campfire, what have you done to earn a meal...."
note he still. isn't. letting. go.
(starling)
"Oh please, if I envied your penis, I'd be holding a twig now." Rolling her eyes even if he couldn't see it.(douglas)
"Uh, let me see," he says, sounding genuinely taken aback for all of one, blessed, second, "how about I found her in the first place, you bloody sad git, and if you don't give me my ruddy hand back in two seconds, I'll call the bobbies and report that a James Branson attempted to rape me after Mr. Squirrel and his friends string you upside-down on a treetop."Yanking his hand back, he grumbles and mutters, and then sinks into another brief, close-eyed silence.
(starling)
She didn't have much up here that she couldn't leave if she had to. And she could take the tree route and maybe not break her neck in the dark. She wasn't too sure those two down there weren't going to get into a big fight from the sounds of it.
(james)
there's that grin again, this time directed at Starling"I told you he kept talking to his little friend."
then there is laughter - full, hearty, infectious laughter
"I'm a bit out of a bobby's jurisdiction, Douglas, I think you're outta luck.... and the local establishment here'd probably listen more to the lady forced up into a tree by your sudden invasion into her campspace. As you may recall, I had permission, you didn't. Besides, rape is a crime of attraction, violence and aggression.... and, well, you're not my type."
reaches to take the cans away from the flames and give them a stir
"Besides.... you don't think the smoke from the campfire would have given her away?"
(nathaniel hess)
And out from the trees..almost eerie how he can emerge from nowhere...
Stalk in Silence a good name for him
He emerges...shirtless, dark skinned, toned, in a pair of jeans, long hair not pulled off his face tonight, that once boyish face now chidled and he looks a bit older, mor mature
He had been through much to make him age rapidly it seems...
hands in his pockets..
He looks around, his eyes move to
HER
If anything was close to happening to her, someone would be leaving one messed up guy...
He speaks with the husky voice.."Rape?"
is all he says(douglas)
"Christ, what a bleedin' pity, and here I thought you had a mighty fine arse, too."The thin-as-a-rail Brit looks at the latest brave to come walking through. "Oh, what's this? Son of Orion, here to pick up his daddy's tomahawk? My Alpha left with it, so sorry. You can try to track her down, but she was in a fine temper and she might flatten you if she doesn't find a fomor to take the brunt of it first."
(starling)
She was up in the tree fort. Having darted up there to give herself the higher ground and a chance to get away if she needed to. Surprised and relieved to see Nathaniel after so many days alone. "Nathaniel?" Sticking her head out through the hole in the floor. Dark hair falling downwards, just adding to the darkness around the hole there. She'd not lit any of the candles, sticking to the dark.
(james)
at the sudden appearence of the tone, chiseled, grunting man from the darkness, a brow lifts, pausing in mid-stir for a moment"Ah look, the local establishment, I told you they'd be on her side, Douglas."
then a smile spreads, unlike Simon next to him, he's not about to go instantly making enemies when in their territory
"Nathaniel? Pleasure, I'm James.... Starling's safe, don't worry..... Mr. Condescending the PMS'd Irish Setter here has a bark worse than his bite, and I'm nothing to worry about..... are you hungry?" nods to the can in his hands, and the one by the fire "There's not much, but we can make it stretch....."
(nathaniel)
Those eyes stare into Douglas's..."You are in my territory...this is my home, who the hell are you and what the fuck are you trying to imply?"
Tamahawk...jees he was as non-traditional native american as they came
Then his gaze turns to James...his demeanor changes slightly...and he nods in acknowledgement..."Im glad shes safe, but i have spirits tracking her anyways...what are you all doing out here, if you dont mind me asking, its miles and miles from anything, this is our home" he nods up to Starling...
"I'm wondering how it ended to be I have visitors here"(lucian)
Pine Barrens.Barren was the right fucking word for the lifeless woodland he was stalking now following a trail that got colder by the bleeding second. He pauses the swat a mosquito (Great.. I think I just caught the fucking West Nile Bullshit.) he pauses hwearing voices in the distance.
(douglas)
"Well don't you have a bloomin' pole up your arse," exclaims Douglas, who isn't used to people being even ruder than himself. "I'm in your territory because no one told me this was your territory, and frankly, I'm just here because my Alpha's been dragging my arse around looking for surly natives just like you. She'd be so disappointed to I was here making all the friends while she was still circling around in the woods."Douglas Ashthorn, Speaks-with-Dreams, anyhow..."
(nathan)
The reason he built a house int he trees was to be away from everything, 100,000 miles of lush pinelands, and yet this was the first any visitors wandered into, it was secluded, well hidden and well built..
he waits for an answer....
"Using the fire is fine.." to James...
"But the other here.." eyes flicker to Douglas.."who invited this one...and for that matter who are you"(Lucian)
He'd know the cat-call of that snide lime anywhere. (Well halla-fucking-lullah.) And yet another comes crashing through the trees to join the group one dark brown brow raising briefly as he takes in the scene.So much for a subtle entrance.
(james)
there's a nod"All I intended, then I'll be on my way, my hitch to Atlantic City stopped a little bit short of it's goal and I was looking a place to bed down but the braying jackass here caught my attention before anything else and then we landed here...... Starling? Are there any plates in the fort? I'm afraid I only have settings for one......"
(nathan)
He laughs...this one was more clueless then any he had ever met
markings and scent told it was the wendigos territory
a bloomin pole
The Ragabash wasnt ever rude, he was questioning why people were in his territory and his girl was up in the fort with a gun
"Frannkly, surly natives?" he tilts his head..
this was going well
The ragabash was the fun loving kid silly type of guy, certainly not expecting a party at his home after a 2 week quest in the umbra, all he had wanted was to find her and see her.."Nathaniel Hess, Stalks in Silence, Ragabash, regardless what you may think of me im pretty entertaining, however not when i come home to Star in a tree pointing a gun and i hear someone talking about rape...although i suppose you find that funny as well:"
(douglas)
"I was crying rape," grouches Douglas, "because this here troglodyte was about to pull my damn hand off."Looking up at the crashing, then, "Well, look at that, if it isn't Lucian the cavedweller come to grace me with his presence. I'd be careful if I were you, Luc. I don't think Sappho ever got over the Xena comment you and everyone else she's ever met made."
(james)
"James Branson, Drums-on-Skills, Bone Gnawer Ahroun"basically for Nathaniel alone, before he disappears into the treefort, a broad smile giving his thanks for the effort
"There are some people, that seriously need to work on their education..... Douglas were you expecting me to then shove your dismembered hand up your own arse so you can constitute the rape?"
if there were ever a time actual suffering could cross the dredlocked Ahrouns face, now would be that time, now wondering who else was going to show to this little party
"So.... one Irish Setter and one Cave Dweller?"
(starling)
Nodding and helping him with the plates they had. There wasn't much here, but they made do. "I rigged up a basket on a rope that we can lower things in and pull them back up."(Lucian)
Lips twitch before he thumbs at his nose casually at douglas. "..actually i was lookin' fer' that lil blonde bitch with the stick for a peace offerin'--but you'll do just fine." Not a change on the squarish facial stuctures of the man who leans so casually against one of the trees at the surround the small clearing."..Uh Cavedweller works. Or Binds-with-Might..whaver." A meaty shrug of muscles tendons and bone as the man watches on. Seemingly a tad out of place but then again so comfortable that it seems not at all.
(nathaniel)
He has stopped paying attention to the dwellers under the tree now and seems to be preoccupied with a quiet conversation(douglas)
The bloke sounded stoned off his ass, he did. Maybe he'd been 'visionquesting' again. Douglas turns his attention back to James and his single, sad little can of food."Mate, I hate to pop your birthday balloon, but that just won't stretch far enough to feed us all. I got a banana and a bag of crisps in my bag though."
(lucian)
There's something enormously confident (read arrogant about the easy way he takes in the scene. Or maybe it simply the i turn into a 9+ foot tall moster vibe. Whatever it is its enough to make him lower his eyes briefly to pull a fag and a match from his pocket and striking the it (the match not the fag..duh.) on the bottom of his boot he lights it taking a first quick hit of his cancer stick.(nathaniel)
He looks down at them and calls to them..."There are a few things up here ill have starling send them down, you are all welcome to stay around as long as it is clear this is my place, and im not in the mood to deal with any crap...im ususally pretty laid back, but its been a helluve 2 weeks, not to mention, visionquesting (ohh if Douglas knew the stuff Nathaniel had to smoke)
(james)
a brow lifts, looking to Douglas..... oh yes, a banana will sooth the hungers of the mighty warriors that have just joined us, I only expected to be feeding Starling... why don't you take your banana and sho..... but shoulders shrug beneath the tips of light brown dreds, handing the can over to Douglas"Split it between yourselves....."
two cans, four people, it'll work
but Nathaniel's offer gets his attention.... maybe he will eat after all
(lucian)
"Well shit. Tell the big-Bitch I said Howdy or somethin."And with a nod to James and then to the treehouse (Geez..Swiss family Robinsin or something.) he makes a small salute twisting is his cap around he turns to stalk back from whence he came.
His colors immediatly blending with the motion chameleon-camo style.
(douglas)
"Those fags are going to blacken your lungs, Luc, see if they don't. Don't believe what they say about regenerating. That just don't happen when you're inhaling cancer by the gallons."Waving James off, "I'm not starving, mate, I had me a big-mac on the way here." Didn't he just say...? Was he showing a hidden streak of decency? Nah, couldn't be.
"Aw fuck me, lookit that, I just scared the big sot off. I'll be back. Maybe not. You guys are a boring bunch of geezers, anyway."
Nope, definitely not. Getting up, the bony Fianna heads after the drawling Fenrir.
(lucian)
"Just hurry the fuck on up then Limey-sonofa.."He chuckles in the distance unbelieveably hard to see at thos point only the last lingering scent of cheap ciggarette smoke lingering in his wake.
(starling)
Collecting together a pot and a couple of cans of beef stew and fruit cocktail. Tossing a can opener in the basket with the plates and other things and lowering them down through the hole in the floor.Posted by james at 12:00 AM