April 29, 2004.04.29.04. - drumcircle [madison-yu gan-annemarie-pinky-patchouli][chinatown]
(madison cassidy)
Maroon doc martens on her feet. Carrying her up the sidewalk. Jeans and a black T-shirt that just reads in red letters. "FA-Q"
Funny, seems she is always wearing that shirt. A flannel tossed over it. Covering her toned body. things aren’t always what they seem to be
Does she look like someone who has been studying martial arts for years? Probably not.
But she is.Her eyes are a eerie blue, and her hair, jet black with a white stripe down the left side. [battle scar].
She has a mischievous look about her, but also a personality that doesn’t repel people the way she could if she wanted to.
Madison Cassidy...
Wyld Chyld.
New to Chicago...but already having found things she liked...and things she didnt like.It had been a while, a while of wandering alone and danging with herself to end up where she is now. Different then most, but she had no problem with that. None at all.
The streets are dark. The mischevious look on her face doesnt leave often. In fact, she wears it often. Each step on the pavement spaceed out and with rhythm. Thenight was dark.
She knew few people, and yet didnt seem to be bothered by a thing tonight...(james)
the night was dark
but that didn't seem to matter much to him
he's found a new spot to make a little cash tonightlong legs curled around an overturned plastic bucket
propped at a slant, there's a pillow poking up from beneath
on the top, wooden sticks tap out a primitive rhythm
Bone rhythm. - but how many passing by know?
a few bits of errant change have landed in the overturned tophat
the drummer seems to notice, but pay little mind
dark umber eyes lift, a smile slashes crooked in thanks
but he seems to be playing more for the pleasure than the paydreads hang down some junglevine waterfall over his shoulders
arms bare up until the black cut-off of his t-shirt
inside of his forarm there's a strange, tribal set of inks
near iridescent with the way muscle and tendons loosely move wrists
fingers nimbly coaxing the musical patterns out of that discarded bucket(maddy)
The sound.
Something she knows well Perhaps not the player, but the sound.
A drummer herself. Her drum tucked safely away while she found where shed be living.
Her drum, handmade, wooden, and the glyphs on the side that told the story of her life....so far.Fingers pass through the jet black hair. Lined with one white streak.
The sound drawing her towards it. The way it echoes through her head.
The beat. Inviting.Primitive rhythm.
Turning the corner she stops and leans up against the building.
Eyes stop on the dreaded (hair) guy and her lips turn up slightly into a smirk.
Shaking her head, coincidences were too common lately. Was there really such a thing as a coincidence? She had begun to trust coincidences as something more.
Again, this had proven to be true...Pushing off from the wall...
4 steps towards the drummer.
Now in sight as she lets a $5 drop from her fingers to the ground."If its a penny fer yer thoughts, consider this for your tunes"
Did he recognize her? Who knew. She had to try and place who he was, she remembered him from being in Eriks new pack...that was all.
(james)
primitive. primal. it's the sound of his soul
displayed on plastic for the passing world to see
(how little they understand....)
there isn't even a hitch as the fiver floats to the ground
presidential face gazing from a place before dull bootsthough his eyes drift upwards
a lazy scouting mission from docs to t-shirt
making no pause until meeting green
then a (forever) crooked grin widens, just a bityeh.... think I recognize you....
the beat hitches into something else
audial worship of spirits few are keen to see
dreads shifting on muscular shoulders as his head tilts"Goo' thing." chuckled, softly... easily, on verge of matching wink "Cause dun' have much thinkin' go' on."
(maddy)
Finding a new place closer, against the very same wall. Leaning up and crossing long toned jean covered legs.no, most dont understand...ever They never let the rhythm sink in deep...to most, it was just banging to some beat.
To her, it was so much moreTold stories, brought out moods, She never planned it, she would just straddle the drum and the things that came out was something channelled through her.
people didnt understand
she did"thinkin is overrated" she nods once and does a quick look around.
So many clueless people...
yes i think i recognize you...
"I know that beat" [or do i know you?]
"Jersey?"
one word, one city, one place she would have rather never had been.(james)
by casual observation - it would seem he isn't even trying
other than a glance to another rattle of change
his attention remains on Maddy
smile quirking marginally wider at the question
chin dipping in ascertation's breif nod"Barr'ns." tap-filled pause "Think we engage' inna shor' circle out 'mongst th' trees."
appreciation there, at the memory
(maddy)
Memories. Pretty much all she had as of late.
Fingers stop on her chin briefly.
Gabes Camp. The Barrens. Yes.A nod back and she chuckles. "was a long time ago"
how many lifetimes"Its been a while." (since Jersey? Since shes played her drum? Something else?)
And after a slight pause more words come from her mouth...
"Seems Jerseys been relocated, from what ive noticed"But she had left Jersey long before any of them, she had gone off on her own....and all to find herself back in a new City, with some of the same people from Jersey.
(james)
"Tell me 'bout it."there's self-reprication in his smirk
so many things had happened (gone wrong) in the months... years.... since that day
some of them inscribed themselves on his body
others permanently inflicted their passing on his soulbeats flinch to silence
an offhand wave of one stick to the mighty comfortable sidewalk next to him
just past the folded trench with the pack of Camels and battered bronze zippo on top
invitation and welcome to remain for a chat, kipe a smoke if she wants
then the pattering songs begin their stories once again"Yeh... som've th' ol' gang ma'e th' move." he recognizes her, recognizes her Rage butting up against the high-content sphere of his own (full moon's a'comin', Jamey-boy), yet remains cautious in how much he shares (how things may have changed....) "Any y' lookin' f'r?"
(maddy)
The offhand wave - an invitation to pop a squat.
Takes her a minute but she drops down and sits next to him.Next to Erik, she was the social one, the sarcastic one, the humorous one.
Next to Erik...
However she hadnt been next to Erik for a long time.things had changed.
And it seemed it had come full circle.
[some of the gang made the move]What would be the -new- gang. Not her gang. Once beta to him as alpha.
Before Jersey
Before Chicagolifetimes ago
A glance to the smokes. A shrug and she takes one out. A nod in thanks as she lets it lay in between full lips and lights it with the tattered Zippo.
"Was lookin for Erik. Found'm though. Uglier then all shit, somethin fucked him up r somethin, cant quite place it, but found him and got a good 3-4 words otu of him."a shrug.
he wants to teach me again.
How things come full circle.
Once the bratty backtalking kid, now on her way to becoming a warrior."Donno what pissed in his cheerios, not like he was ever mr friendly, but something just seems to have soured him even more"
a shrug, a drag and a smirk.
Unlike Erik, she was social, didnt mind smalltalk or meeting people, and certainly wasnt afraid to say what was on her mind.
(james)
there's a slow, thoughtful nod
Erik had borne the brunt of the battles in more than one way
luckily he wasn't considered the pretty boy of the pack to begin with"S'me nasties.... wh'n the spir't cenner fell." can't be anything more than streetslang between two urban primitives, yes? mojo symbolism shared infront of hidden ears that may listen "Th'n we all hadda sac'fice s'meth'n' dear buildin' it 'gain."
nothing more than vague references
copped up to a jive-speak recollection of something that happened in the Skids
the raggedyman Ahroun doesn't seem the type to be visiting pricey temples
but what's related may or may not shine light on the subject at hand
the details aren't his to tell, anyway, they're Erik's choice to share
the Fostern respects his Alpha too much to blab freely
regardless of whether or not he's aware of their connective past"Tho' we're all qui'ter here."
muscular shoulders lift and drop in liquid shrug
this chuckled phrase is mocking
while he still carries the thick Yankee accent
it's been dampened by the addition of the slur
she's not sitting on the side to view the dents in jawline
and they didn't speak enough before to place the difference"Ligh' me one?"
deep umber cast towards the pack of smokes
not wanting to break the rumbling, rolling rhythms they both obviously enjoy(maddy)
Leaning back against the wall. Quiet for a moment.
Letting the beats pulse through her.A nod, pulling out another of the smokes, lighting it, and holding it out for him to simply take with his mouth.
Quiet except for the thump of the drums.
The beats...One of the few things she related to...one of the few things she had passion for."Nasties can do that"
She knew there was more, but not for James to tell obviosuly...She had seen Erik only for a moment--theyd have more time to chat soon...
Placing the zippo back down on the pack she lets out a long cloud of smoke.
Resting now on her elbows, her own cigarette in between her fingers. she chuckles.
"Like it here much?"
Simple question(james)
torso stretches as the Ahroun leans to the side
carefully taking the filter between his teeth
brows lift towards tangle of dreads in half-smiled thanks
conversation ebbs to little more than staccato beats when lungs fill with smoke
they'll never blacken, ever.... all the more incentive to enjoy commercially smooooth and exotic tastedrumbeats
heartbeats
sometimes they're all the same
deep bass strike throbbing concert with the pulse laying beneath their very forms
the hidden lifeblood of Gaia constantly coursing through the moist earth
backbeat inspiration shadowing them through each hard-fought battle
(comforting them when they no longer have the strength to fight the war)
how simple it is, sometimes, to sing praise chorus to the holiest of complications
or let the swell and crest of tidal tappings speak the words they cannot"S'allrigh'." crackerjack strikes hinting at what frustrations victory grants "Same shi'.... diff'r'n' city. Leas' I'm gettin' a see 'n learn bout the worl' ou'side a Alb'ny."
not Jersey
that, in itself, was but a step on the path towards his own horizon(maddy)
The lack of words for the moment was hardly uncomfortable.
In fact the beats were inviting, relaxing, calming to her.She wished she had her drum with her.
More smoke pours from her lips with a drag.
silence broken. Words now slowly filling out the space that was just only for the beats.
"Hopin Ill stick around for a while, from what i see Erik could use some fuckin laughs"
Laughs? Shit he needed a comic enema....
"Funny how this life ages ya, yannow? Most my age would be thinkin of college or some shit, or whatever...shit, i just turned 21, and the shit we get to deal with is so fuckin deep."
another pause.
let the beats mvoe through me"dunno if anythin could have prepared me for a life like this, " she chuckles
shaking her head."but i guess id rather not have known...hang onto the good times, cause ya need those memories when all the shit is flung atcha, yannow?"
(james)
the Ahroun, for all his battle RAR - is easy enough to be around
silences filled with no expectations beyond sharing it
comfortable in fulfilling only one, singular objective
sharing the music that touches both their animal souls"I'll buy ya dinn'r if y' gettim' a laugh." there's fondness in the chide, it saddens him to see beloved Alpha so torn, but resolution in that it is the life they are all destined to live.... James knows all too well, already, the pains they're forced to bear "S'metime I won'er if smilin'd break wha's left've 'is face."
his head tilts - as if to watch what pictures his rhythms drew in the air before them
whatever he must see brings comment through softly chuffed laugh"Dun' think nothin' can." glance strafes towards his companion "Raise' roun' the crew'n Alb'ny, m'self, 'n still got struck down har' by th' time I w's nineteen." the deep, bone-chilling sadness glimmers only momentarily within his mellow, drumming thesad "Been gettin' har'er since. Bes' we c'n do is make th' bes' a wh't we're lucky 'nuff a be lef' with af'er, I'm guessin'."
"Else that depth'll consume 's."
(maddy)
She nods..."not only break whats left, shit back in the days, the scar near his mouth gave him perma-scowl"she relaxes a bit and chuckles once more...
"he taught me a lot, like brother n sister i guess...n i never really listened, stubborn [i am]...was always really fuckin stubborn"
she nods at his words.."makin the best of situation s all we can do, you are right, even when it seems life takes the preverbial shit on ya on a daily basis"
another chuckle..
a pause. Simply a pause.
"like whn i got this streak.." pointin to the battle scar...the white lone of hair in a jet black sea.
"wanted to dye it...erik woulda killed me...said i earned it, i get that now, didnt back then"
another pause...
Leaning back on her elbows once more..."lose a lot of people, close people, weird to think i probably wont make it to my 30s or 40s, ya know....fightin for a cause, dyin for the cause...
ya know.." she shrugs..."can get pretty lonely n stuff, i mean, i dunno"
(james)
"Learn' lot fr'm 'm, too."the nod is sage for the amount of truth inherant in that comment
James wouldn't have made Fostern without the pack as a whole
volume drifts away, allowing the facts to stand on their own
accompanied by nothing more than the soft patter of sticks on plastic
absent song to the great raptor spirit that guides them"He dun' say much..... but y' sure do lis'n when he growls atcha." humor coloring this phrase, though it's bittersweet "Dun' think I'd make it a twen'y, wh'n I got m' firs' scars. Growin' up Bee Gee made me 'ppreciate each day 'cause I nev'r knew if I' see t'morra'. Been gran'ed four year' since then."
finally, the drumming comes to an end
right hand calloused from fingers to palm extends in semblance of formality
(he's had a hard life, Jamey-boy, and it shows)
skin stretching the iridescent formations of ink collected on his innerarm
oblique lamplight gleams on arrival from half-block-away corner
catching the mysteries contained within on some errant shine"'m James."
alternate hand occupied in releasing the log of ash from the Camel
(maddy)
She nods.
"i remember." And she did, girl had a memory on her like nothing else.hand meets hand. Strong grip. years of martial arts.
"Maddy" She replies and smiles.
"yeah you;re righ, he dont say much, was why we made such a good team, him n i" another pause...
"was beta with him in a pack in st louis" hand releases his and she lifts the back of her shirt to show him the amazingly colorful tattoo. Grandfather thunder glyph in there, a whole story in art.
Phenominal work. And not always what it seemed. Some of the things dedicated to her were in that tattoo.
Fingers let fabric slide and the shirt drops back down.
"No moon, so i tend to annoy ol Erik cause as much as we are different, we are also alike...i speak without thinkin a lot of the time...yannow, stubborn ANd opinionated..." she chuckles..
"e' always watched out for me, but i had to go do my own thing, learn n shit...i dunno"
another pause, just for a moment, eyes moving down the street, mind racing to so many thoughts...
thoughts that didnt have to be spoken right now...
or at all
"Beat to my own drum i suppose...probably dont always follow the rules to a t. But who does, yannow?"
(james)
the grin he quirks says he was the one falling short on memory
howd'yado made formal in the strong shake
he hasn't had the years of martial arts
but simply in that grip - though tempered - is something else
he could break things if he wasn't so cognizant of his actionsphenomenal work, indeed, on that tat
comments phrased through exhale of a low-whistle"Ain't nothin' wrong w' foll'win' y'r own drum."
the drumsticks snap together in his palm
then tip towards her in offer
not possessive over a streetcorner, this Gnawer
especially as it isn't in his own territory
he just had that craving for some honestly good FOOD
making a bit of cash is gravy"Full, m'self. D'nno how I get 'long w' th' res've th' pack bein' German.... but Er'k seems a think I c'n hol' my own jus' fine. Guess't mean s'methin'."
in a war pack primarily constructed of Fenrir
one Bone Gnawer lasting over a year certainly does mean something
in the eyes of his packmates
in the eyes of his Alpha
in the eyes of his Nation(yu gan)
He walks down the street in Chinatown. It was pretty late at night, 9 out of 10 people still on the street at this hour in this section of town were of Asian decent. Not that there was an overabundance of them around.
Yu was one of them. Though instead of blending totally with the people he seemed to slip though them. Walking among them in thoughts that were not their thoughts.
He was tall for an Asian man. Topping out at about 6 feet, black hair starting to grow out now at Naomi's request. His eyes were so dark brown that one might easily mistake them for black. Broad shoulders a nice chest dropping to narrow hips and legs built for running.
Dressed tonight in black soft soled shoes. Black pants of a airy fabric, a matching shirt of chinese cuts with the one button at the collar where the little string loops around it. The leather jacket of aztec design had been left inside this evening.There was something a little extra about him though. Invisable to normal eyes it was almost as if there was an aura of menice or a field of danger about him. Slipping though the people he was unconsciencly given a bit of room.
It's that same air he picks up almost like a scent that turns him towards James and Maddi. Heading down the street he slows his approach. One obsidian brow lifting as he slows to a stop about 10 feet from them. James he'd seen. Maddie not.*
(annemarie)
When working in the line of work she has recently acquired, it is understood that it will take you many different places, however this is the first time it has brought her to Chinatown. Cheating bastard found, pictures taken, and camera secreted away again into the pocket of her light trenchcoat (one of two, Ethan still has her other) along with her hands as long strides carry her down the street.Conveniently toward the ones talking on the corner, and the one approaching them.
Work clothing tonight. Black slacks, black tank-top, and the trench over both. Shoulder holster, slight bulge under her arm showing she is armed – for those that look to see such things. And naturally, that’s not the only weapon she carries. Long and lean, her 5’11” height is further enhanced by the 2 inch spiked heels on her boots. She carries herself with purpose, with pride, with a bearing that speaks of royalty though her blood speaks of nothing but common thieves and whores.
And there is no mistaking the presence of rage within her. A palpable force, that slides ahead, parting the way as she moves with confidence.
(maddy)
She shakes her head to the drumsticks.different style of drumming
her hands were the sticks, the way they hit her drum, the animal hyde...putting herself into each note.Eyes move to the bucket [drum].
She could give it a go, even if it wasnt her drum.
Spinning it towards her and letting it find home in between her legs.
Glancing at it...before she comments.
"erik think you can hold yer own, then no doubt bout it you are one badass" she chuckles and adds...
"yeah all them germans can make ya wanna runt o the hills at times...
Erik taught me everythin i know, im Fury, but raised by Get and never having met another Fury.
[my choice]
makes it so i had no choice but to move to the beat of my own drum yannow"a smile, a wink...-pause-
and now the silence broken by her hands beginning to hit the top of the bucket...slowly at first. [its beena while]
rhythm comin from within.Her jade green eyes close as she lets her hand hit the bucket.
(yu)
*Yu pauses and looks from one to the other. Then the dark black eyes flicker past them up to AnneMarie. He's seen her at the caern too. This has him just a wee bit on edge. Wondering if they were here for one of his pack.Softly his hands are brought around to press together infront of him. Observing and awaiting accknowledgement.*
(james)
"Hear tha'." humor barked in short laughter "Funny how it obv'ous yet other's 'ssume I'm one a them 'stead a wha's true. Dun' bother me, though."funnier yet how one particular Fianna assumed he was Decker, much less Fenrir
but that's not a story to tell just yetshe takes the plastic 5-gallon bucket serving so far as drum
and as she adjusts, he tucks the sticks away
safely propping them in a fold of nearby jacket
long legs unfolding to let ankles cross on the sidewalk
stretching out the long hours he's sat here playing
personal homage brought through the bone rhythms offered to the night
small notion of thanks for passing through and damn good foodas another Camel's dug from the pack
lit off the ember of what's now all but filter
he turns his head towards the presence that lingered
chin tipping up in salutation for Yu Gan
though he doesn't speak to interrupt Maddy's play(annemarie)
Yu stops nearby and is acknowledged, but the others, and the brief glance upward to take her in is noted and met with her own even gaze. Hands still in pockets, she stops nearby as well when the girl starts to play the makeshift drum, brow quirking slightly. Fingers slide free, to lift and smooth over short-shorn hair, before tucking into the pocket of her slacks instead, the coat pushed back over a hip as shoulder finds the lamppost she stops next too.Weight shifts into a comfortable lean as she listens, watches. She doesn’t interrupt, merely watches the flash of fingers against plastic, the rhythm growing under talented fingertips.
(maddy)
Eyes remain closed for now as she slwoly [rhymically] beats on the drum [bucket].Each beat creating the music from the drum.
a nod as he speaks...and her eyes open once more...now there are others there. James having acknowledged one close by.
Heands stop beating...as she rolls the drum back to him. [song done] Prematurely, but done.
Gathering her thoughts back as she clears her throat and nabs one of the Camels offered previosuly to her.
Tattered zippo ignites the smoke.
She remains quiet.Her eyes slowly walk over the 2 new arrivals.
Tall asian man. China town. She cant help but feel the smirk fighting to spread across her lips.
words in her head
just remember who you talk to, people in this town beat your ass for no reasonShe shakes her head, coincidence was NEVER all it was. She could almost bet the guys name was Yu. He matched the description of the one....
Leaning back on her elbows, but not before taking a long drag from the smoke...
Head tilts towards James as she mutters softly..
"friends of yours?"(yu)
*A raise of that slender brow again and he silently nods to James. A look of curiosity over his face as he looks to Maddi and then up at the rather sizable Fenrir approaching. Intresting footware there. His eyes do notice the jacket. If one had those taylored they didn't show as much but the way garou go though clothes it seemed ill advised.
AnneMarie Acknowledged him as well but nothing had been said. Usually he was the most silent one in a group. This might take a while if they decided on inturperitive dance and gutteral clicks to try and communicate.So he looks back to Maddi playing and listens.
When she speaks to James, Yu's eyes slowly move to him. Yu had worked with the Eagles many times. Though usually though Decker.
He awaits the answer to the friend thing.*
(james)
"Mmhm. Work' 'geth'r few times, nah." murmured in a hum, just as soft as the pressure of palms on plastic "'s his digs."quite a bit translated through that bit of slang:
the man is Garou
the man is Alpha
the man is Alpha of the pack that claims this part of the cityany introductions between Yu and Maddy are left up to them
he's PR guy for his packplastic make-shift drum now serves as a table between them
folded trench, sticks, and his pack and lighter placed neatly on top
(respect another's territory, and all that)
then deep umber eyes drift to the statuesque fourth nearby"Dunno her, though."
(maddy)
Eyes to Yu and then to her as she easilly follows his slang. She was fluent in mumble and mutter, along with growl and grumble.A nod. shifting her weight to one elbow, taking a drag fromt he smoke in the other hand, and then rolling back so the weight is displaced back on both elbows.
smoke bellows from her mouth and she shrugs.
Well isnt this just the time to be indroducing n stuff.
A nod. a smirk and she speaks
"Madison Cassidy"
and that was enough for now. If more was needed she was sure hed ask.or beat her ass Which was what she had learned was some of the people in this citys way of welcoming newcomers.
(annemarie)
Dunno her, though.Not unusual, as she’s not met many in the grand scheme of things. Chin lifts toward Yu, however, gathering that this is his territory by words that so softly hum free. Voiceless she may be, however hearing has picked up quite a bit of slack.
She still waits, listening, gaze sliding from one to the next.
Madison speaks, and she tips her head slightly in a silent hello, hand sliding from the pocket of her slacks, a battered notebook between her fingers. She flips, one-handed, through to a mostly blank page, with the most simple of her introductions on it. Hips pull body into motion, standing upright, before she offers the notepad to Yu first, to be passed on as he sees fit.
On it, written, simply. ~AnneMarie Hoch.~
Following Madison’s lead. When they ask for more, they will receive it.
(yu)
*Yu listens to Jame's reply and nods his head. The Quick and the Eagles worked well together. The Quick found lots of ugly stuff for them to kill and the Eagles killed it plenty dead.His dark eyes shift back to Madison. He doesn't have that instant dominating glare that many garou try and acheive. He seems pretty comfortable in his position and where he is and all. Bravo wasn't usually his strong suit.
China town was NOT closed to other garou. As long as you didn't do fucked up stupid shit, you could come and go though the Quicks Protectorate as you liked.
The list of those not allowed actually only numbered one at the moment.
He smiles softly to Madison when she offers her name, not showing teeth, That might be preceived as challenge.
His voice when it comes out is soft. Cultured. No trace of asian accent at all.*
A pleasure to meet you Madision, You as well AnneMarie. James, A pleasure as always. Welcome to my home. May I offer the three of you hospitality? Perhaps refreshment?
*Minding his manners. More flies with honey and even more with good beer*
(james)
the two fingers scissoring the Camel lift up to his brow in pseudo-salute
drifting coil of smoke suddenly snaking a curved hitch in its skyward progression
relaxed as the Ahroun was from the impromptu drumming session
the swelling crackle of electric fury still hums deliberately around him
in league with how the moon high above grows heavily gravid
it could, quite possibly, be the reason he's not standing up
no disrespect intended, he'd rather not implicate aggressionmost the lanky raggedyman does is lean foward to take the notepad
deep umber eyes, the color of Gaia's moist earth, drop to skim across the letters
tilting it so Maddy can read, before he's handing it back"James." spoken carefully in means of introduction, making sure the slur doesn't annihilate his own name, then the unoccupied hand drops down and pats very full belly "Y'r locals took care a tha', f'r me." the others, again, on their own "Thank' though."
(anemarie)
She takes her notepad back with the slightest quirk of her lips – that might, if it lasted long enough, become a smile. It disappears, however, almost before it appears, leaving its actual existence an exercise for the viewer. Her other hand appears then, and fresh page is found, and writing resumes. Her script flows quick, neat, precise – thus no matter the speed with which it appears, it is still easily read.Written. ~No thank you - I am just passing through to my own turf. No disrespect is meant. I was unaware who claimed this area.~
Passed toward Yu to again make the circle.
(maddy)
And she reads and nods to AnneMarie.Eyes slowly moving back towards Yu. who was the only one who didnt find the need to tell who he was...
typical alpha male
Only made her smirk more and shake her head."naw thanks, im cool"
A quick glance around... check please
Was getting mighty crowded, and a whole lotta rage. She still didnt know shit about whos territory was whos, but she knew about this place, also the fountain, and how one could be beaten up and drowned if they spoke to kinfolk.
she had learned a lot in a short period of time.
Now she missed the sound of the drum.
Now she missed the comfort of the beat. Now she missed the casual conversation as she was flung into -technicalities- and -introductions-A quick glance of AnneMaries next scribble and she nods again.
claimed the area Man she missed just being able to go wherever and do whatever.
So many lifetimes ago...
Elbows push her from her ass to her feet and she leans up against the wall once more..."was thinkin of bailin soon anyways"
(yu)
*He bows his head to James with a smile. They did have pretty good grub here. A bit of a smile playing the young Uktena's lips. Turning to the two oh so charming ladies his head is cocked for their replys. He kinda likes the pad. He'd used one a while when he first got to town. About 3 weeks laer he'd spoken and even starteled the shit out of Decker. It was an intresting memory.
Taking the pad he looks.. almost sheepish. Clearing his throat he softly hands the pack back to the integuing young woman.
A look to Madi and he replys to AnneMarie* I must apoligise. My name is Yu Gan and my people do protect this area, though it's open to any that would not cause trouble. Feel free to come and go in peace.
*A bow of his head to AnneMarie and he looks to Madison. A smile* You needn't leave unless you wish to. If you do, please go in peace.(james)
"Know where a fin' us?" attention tilts to Maddy's stretch "Shou' bring y'r drum s'mtime 'n jam."subtle invitation back to the ease of conversation and the comfort of the drums
(the Full Moon can understand how tension, invariably, rose as they gathered)
they both agreed how deep the things they must deal with become
sometimes it's nice to just relax beneath the blanket of tone and rhythm
basic indication that yes, he likes her
at least on the level of simply chilling outdreads shift shoulders when gaze swings back around
not privy to the notepad this session
James keeps his peace and blows smoke rings(maddy)
She gives a nod to the other 2 and then looks back at James."think i will" she smiles..."i miss havin folk to drum with"
another nod and a smile, smoke moving back to her lips...
"im sure ill catch ya around soon..."
(pinky)
::On a random street, on a random corner is exactly where Pinky is walking. Her slip-on sandals clip-clopping her steps as she goes, as always a lollypop hanging from the young blonde's mouth::(annemarie)
She nods a goodbye toward Maddie as she takes her leave, watching her for a moment, before back to James, and then Yu. She slides to a crouch, easily enough, before pivoting weight back, to sit on the curb, jacket flaring around her before settling again. The movement itself is graceful, confident as if she belongs sitting on sidewalks. Long legs fold under her, and the notepad is returned to her grip and settled on a knee.A glance sees pinky nearing, and then it returns to the two men who remain near her. She, characteristically, is silent, until pen scratches across paper again. It seems the other two know each other – and she cannot place James with the pack’s she’s seen right off. His is not a face easily forgotten, so the question is valid. ~Who do you run with, James...?~
And passed, of course.
(yu)
*Yu watches Madison leave and looks to the others. His voice quiet* I hope she didn't leave on my account?
*Eyes flickering up to note the young blond's approach. A soft scent of the air. She smelled of good breeding. Yu's nose was better in homid than many had in lupus. His sight was exceptionally acute, most of all at night or with movment.
He watches her near and turn for the store.
Those dark eyes flicker down to see if AnneMarie would share her note with him. She didn't have to fork it over. He could see it from his place*(pinky)
::At school they always passed notes, and the girl notes it under the sweep of eyelashes. Usually gossip, or so Pink assumes her lips pressing together after the lollypop is pulled from her mouth. For the most part, she's just looking around. Chicago was a dangerous city and she wasn't stupid ...just.. y'know hyper.::(james)
"Take't easy, Maddi." for once, a name that he's capable of saying without butchery, then his head shakes slightly "She's jus' passin' through."dark eyes follow Yu's towards the newcomer
but he allows the Uktena to handle watch
attention turning towards the offered note
freehand waving towards the sidewalk and smokes on the bucket
AnneMarie's welcome to make herself comfortable with eitherinstead of answering vocally, fingers waggle for the pen
series of words and glyphs neatly inscribed for her to read
may as well get it over with - Yu Gan already knows anywayDrums-On-Skulls, Fostern, Full Moon, Bone Gnawer, Eagles.
(pinky)
::Pinky dresses in you guessed it, pink. From the pink rhinestone-studded strap of her banjo to the pink-dyed cotton of her T-shirt. The only relief from pink is the fadded denim of her cutoff and the suntanned complexion of her skin. Slurp. Slurp. Slurp. And that THATS when she spots the drum.::Oooooah!
(annemarie)
She doesn’t make use of the buckets or the cigarettes, comfortable where she is, and doesn’t smoke. She takes the page back, and wonder of wonders, a slight smile slips over painted lips, before fading away. She flips to a prewritten page, angling it so Yu can see as well.~AnneMArie Hoch, Bitter Grace to family, Ruhigar to the nation, Cliath Fenrir Modi, beta of the Tar Crawlers of Skid Row.~
Under it written. ~I’ve met Decker. Almost as silent as I am.~ Talk about a painful conversation – with her writing, and his less then steller reading ability. It takes time, for sure.
(pinky)
::A musician at heart, and yes, quite hyper created a significant impact on the girl. Baby blue eyes fly wide open and arms spread wide as if she were standing in front of an audience instead of walking down a quasi-deserted street in the middle of night on a sugar-binge. After a short hop in place she starts to rush the muscian::Y'play th'drums?
(yu)
*Yu feels Pinky's breeding but watching her causes a bit of a confused look to cross his face.
Dark eyes flicker back to AnneMarie and James. Reacing her pad he softly extends his hand and raises his brows to see if he might barrow it. If she lets him he jots his own title down.
Watching Pinky's approach as he does.
Yu Gan, Fasttrack, Uktena Fostern Ragabash. Alpha of the Quick, under Roadrunner.
When he's done writing in a crisp legible script he gently hands it back to AnneMarie. Turning his attention back to Pinky.*(james)
well, a sort've drum
it's more of an empty 5-gallon bucket hired on as a temporary drum
but with the otherwise overall appearence of the raggedyman
(dreadlocks, worn-thin fatigues, black t-shirt that's seen better days)
there's the remaining question of whether or not he actually owned a real one
though.... looks can be decievingon Pinky's unbridled approach - AnneMarie's note is folded under nimble fingers
callouses spanning palm to tip making the move easy by provisionary traction
Yu Gan's addition tripling the brevity of their title's aired in public
and James handles the explosive approach in stride
offering a pleasent, if crooked, grin
(deliberate opposite to the Ahroun's growing Rage)"Yeh." elbow props on the overturned bucket, thumping accordingly "'r whatev'r I c'n fine tha' agrees to a beat."
a part of that is thick Yankee accent
a part of that is battlescar caused slur muddling the words
he holds no expectations of the hyperactive purebred understanding him
(pinky)
::Her attention flickers, y'know, like a flashlight with a low battery.:: Hi. :: Her well manicured hand lifts and opens to shake in a wave that is undoubtedly the friendliest thing ever seen. Until you see that giggle that follows, infectious this blonde girl was and hyper as her gaze flickered to the paper passing::D'ya'all know origami?
::And then James speaks and she bounces from foot to foot on those dangerously elevated sandals her hands clapping together before the loollypop is withdrawn once more. Sour apple. Yummm, her lips are green. Never in your life have you seen someoone so rev'ed up over music at 4am.::
"Thats great! I'm a musician to!"
(annemarie)
She takes back the notepad, nodding to Yu’s addition, before expertly flipping the pages to another, clean page somehwere in the middle. If any found the notebook before she destroyed it, the conversations would be disjointed at best, and definitely of random order – making no since at all. She carefully destroys each page every night, as it is, as an added procaution.Steady, level gaze rests on Pinky, and she just... blinks.
Breeding is pure, and noticeable, but a bit overshadowed by the... over exhuberance, of the woman’s greeting and conversation. Intersting.Brows furrow slightly at the question of orgami, before simply shaking her head.
(yu)
*Yu slowly blinks watching Pinky and slowly looks to AnneMarie and James to see if she's with them, her words would indicate no aquatainceship though. Slowly he looks back to Pinky. A bit speachless to say the least.
A nod to her question of Origami*(james)
rather than being overwhelmed by Pinky's.... exhuberance
the Fostern watches with an air of calm
chuckling softly at the peppering of questions"Nuh. No or'gami, though can' speak f'r these two." they are definitely on their own "What'cha play?"
(pinky)
::And the crowd falls into a stunned sort of silence. Her cue to chuckle again perhaps a little more strained than the last. Pinky's a youngster perhaps no more than 15 or 16 at most - and she settles the lollypop back into pink-glossed lips, hands free to run through the edges of blonde curls::Heh.
::And then James speaks her smile returning with the pleased expression to paint joy into her face. The shifting from side to side begins as if she were preparing for some kind of race. At James's inquiry Pinky tugs on the pink rhinestone-studded strap to bring the banjo around for public viewing -- a well manicured thumbnail sliding over the string with a light florish::
"Ah' might-could play the guitar a bit too."
(patchouli jones)
4:30 a.m. (Or so.) Random streetcorner. Random street. Patchouli walks randomly around the random streetcorner and that's how she comes into play: another golden blonde. The (uncertain at best) illumination from a street light glints on the remains of glitter crusted along the crease of her eyelid and dusted down her cheekbones, as if sometime in the recent past she'd fallen asleep with out washing her face. Her head is up, her gaze has that curious alertness known to coffee addicts, insomniacs, and spies. [ A fevered glitter, 'cos she's a teenager who revels in being up so late? But she's also godamned tired, and determined to NOT be. You know how it is.] When her gaze alights on Yu Gan, AnneMarie, James and Pinky -- her nostrils flare and she lowers her head like a bull, stomping on over like the pavement were her own personal drum.(annemarie)
Definitely on her own. It’s not the first, nor will it be the last time that happens. She, as is her way, remains quiet, her hand folding over the notepad resting on her thigh, pen tucked between fingertips, held at the ready, though the page remains blank.The stomping pulls light blue – so light almost gray – gaze over toward Patchouli, and the bulldogged approach that sounds over the cement, giving the walk a beat of it’s own.
(yu)
*Brows rise even higher at the pink rhinestone banjo. Another slow blink and he's still trying to place this somewhere in a frame of referance.
Turning his dark eyes he notes Pat's approach and tilts his head. This was intresting.*(james)
"Multi'tal'nt'd."or, whatever translation that slaughter of symbols became in accepted English
sadly enough, even with the accent and unavoidable slur, James remains the best speaker of his pack
head tilts a bit, watching Pinky with those dark umber eyes
Patchouli ignored since there are two other Garou keeping watch
even if the Ahroun's quietly amused at their stunned - if natural - silence"So wha's got you out so late, kid?"
conversational and easy going as he may be
there's something strange with such a young'n - pure bred and crackling with Rage - being out so late
especially with the top dog of the area not recognizing her
and the suspicion shows in set of kind eyes turning steely
muscular body relaxed against the wall deceptive in the strength it holds
(he takes not chances on where it is the Wyrm could lay in wait)
he's not outwardly hostile, not by a long shot, but he damn well easily can be(pinky)
::Ever seen Legally Blonde? Pinky has, she has there and watched the DVD non-stop for days and days studying the DEEP and meaningful lessons of life. Rule Numero Uno: Never attempt anything looking Less than your best. It seems Patti has broken this rule supposedly she has a good reason, right? Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. She's absorbed with the OTHER musician. Its an ALL exclusive club - no one ELSE invited. And yes, she's preening under the attention dragging the lollypop from her mouth.::Ah'got th'munches. You?
(annemarie)
Silent, quite naturally, though amused perhaps on some level. Though it’s hard to tell, as expressions seem to barely flicker to life before fading away to carefully learned calm. To have Modi, a metis modi at that, maintain such control, it is perhaps difficult to imagine the extent of the teaching, the harshness of the punishment for failure when such things slipped. Or perhaps not. Their’s is not, after wall, a pretty world, no matter how many Pinky’s with rhinestone=covered banjo strap’s populate it.Gustav is never going to believe this one.
So she watches, she listens, she remains her normal quiet self.
(james)
a soft roll of laughter chuffs out of the urban wolf's chest
not hard to miss she's preening beneath the sudden attention
the amusing thing is just what she's preening before
(ah... the joys of youth.... forgotten such things, haven't you, Jamey-boy?)"Huh-m." head tips towards the floppy top-hat near one knee, bottom filled with various coins and bills "Raisin' funds f'r nex' time. You fr'm roun' here?"
dark eyes switchstance to Yu Gan
fairly sure the Quick's Alpha can pick up on the signals he is
but noooot his job to deal with strange Garou wandering through Chinatown
the Uktena can pick up the conversational slack depending on her answer(patchouli)
James may speak in syllables of English butchered by the war-wound in his cheek, but the last line of syllables was readily understandable enough; the cadence of sandals stomping against the pavement stills and silences, and Patchouli's voice can be defined by how deeply it is, at this moment, aggrieved -- conscious of injustice. "She snuck out!""Again." Her hands are shoved deeply into her pockets; without taking them out, she nudges Pinky with one arm/shoulder, trying not to scowl too deeply in front of the strangers. Geezus, and what stranger trio would be out on this street this time of night? Her gaze goes swimming over Yu Gan (bad ass) and AnneMarie (calm?).
'Cuz caution is this teen's middle name. ...right next to "protective." And "Galadriel", but we won't get into that.
(yu)
*Yu catches James look and has to repress a bit of a grin, looking back to Pat as she makes her entrance into the corner scene. The greeting is a bit cryptic "She snuck out?"
But then Yu Gan is guessing that she ment Pinky.
Turning to behold the pair of them he raises his chin a bit and clears his throat* I don't think I've had the pleasure of making your aquatianceship ladies?
*Voice not having any Asian accent. Hell he's from Cali.*(pinky)
Oh! Sorry!::She blinks, and quite obviously Pink's just not from around here. She tips one sandalclad leg back and digs into the pockets of her cut off producing two wrinkled 5-dollar bills and 26 cents. She's distracted staring at the money for a moment and then nudged. BLINK::
Dang it Patti!
::Hushed shout. You know the sort, as she glaring at the other blonde. They looks somewhat alike two tow-headed kids from the sticks. But this one's middle name isn't caution its: Anastasia. Though her attention is up now and fixed on the girl. Scowl. And then she looks to the silent badass::
Y'almost made m'drop m'lollypop! Uhm thats Patti and I'm Pinky, we're passin' through from Nebraska.
::Attention? Pink SUCKS it up like a sponge. Moon-Dancer.::
(annemarie)
AnneMarie – for her part, is caught simply staring at the duo in front of her, though expression remains carefully schooled... she could fade right on into the background at this point.(james)
Pathcouli speaks up, and the Fostern lets loose another soft chuckle
.......the Truancy Officer has arrived
chin jerks up - Eagle style - as the second teen joins their group
amusement deepens at Pinky's awkward pocket dig then linger"Wasn' a reques', Pink, jus ans'rin' y'r ques'n."
(yu)
*His eyes widen at the accusation of her and that green substance she's licking, or is licking her as it's on her lips. He looks to AnneMarie and James and back to Pinky and Patti. Swallowing his laugh he nods gently to the ladies* Well... welcome to my area Pinky.... * Yes he pauses. Did he just address a Garou named "Pinky"?
Resisting the urge to look for hidden camra's he goes on* ANd Patti. I am Yu Gan.
Have you been in long from Nebraska?(patchouli)
"Or Fred," Patchouli slides in after uhm thats Patti and I'm Pinky, etcetera. "Patti or Fred. Or Cin." Thoughtfully, she fingers a golden tress back behind her ear, sparkles rubbing off on her the side of her finger. "Still haven't decided what name will best suit me in these tumultous years." The edge of her grumpines seems to have been taken off. [Yu Gan called them ladies. Not girls.] "Uhm." Now her gaze is on the bills in Pinky's palm. If Pinky doesn't seem to remember them? The girl gets another nudge. "It's nice to meet you."(pinky)
::Her attention span? A flickering light that fades in and out James speaks and she blinks at him confusedly.::Huh? Oh.
::Before she looks down at the money in her hand going back to SERIOUS contemplation briefly, before cracking a smile - green tinged and all::
Naw ah'was jus'gonna spend it on candy anyway.
::And wasn't that the SAD truth of the matter. The girl managed to exist on lollypops and chewing gum, luckily it affected very little besides her energy level. Either way the girl seemed to radiate that solid mid-western upbringing - with a healthy dash of FUN thrown in. After 'Patti' speaks she blinks tossing a wrinkled 5 into the pucket before she echoes her cousin.::
Yeah, real nice to meet you folks.
(yu)
*Yu nods and reaches up to run a hand though the dark inky hair that's just starting to finally gain length, at his mates request* I'll let my assioates introduce themselves should they wish.
*Yu looks to James and AnneMarie. Repressing the smile. Normally he's the sneaky ninja type ragabash but this is just too good to pass up. Looking back to Pinky and Patti* Are either of you hungry? I tend to expend hospitality to those in my territory.(annemarie)
Even she is still trying not to react to the overwhelming.... perkiness... of the pare before them. She lifts a hand and slides it through close-cropped hair, nails scraping at her scalp lightly, before resting at the back of her neck and down to her lap once more.(james)
"James"offered in way of an introduction
as much information provided as polite in such a situation
though he's more for remaining quietly in the background and watching the game commence
fairly experienced with Yu's low-key stealthy approach
quite a change to be forced into hyperdrive by the pair of glittergirls(annemarie)
A blink, and she flips through pages in her notebook again, before holding up the one that simply says on it ~AnneMarie Hoch.~ to show to the girls, before laying the notepad in her lap again.(patchouli)
"Yeah!" Bounce.Wait. Bounce? No. Wayyyyyyy too Pinky-esque. Patchouli coughs slightly, running her fingers through her hair in an unconscious (? -- like the reflection of a ghost) immitation of AnneMarie. "I mean, yeah. That'd be cool."
Oh man oh man oh man -- breakfast with a real YAKUZA BOSS.
(It's. late.)
Then, unthinkingly, to AnneMarie: "Do you want a cough-drop?"(yu)
*He nods gently to the ladies and James. He'd eaten but it'd been more than 10 minutes and the man was a Gnawer. His brows raise to encompas Anne and James again. To see if they'd like to come.*(pinky)
::Food is offered and YES Pinky is bouncing, foot to foot, the banjo slide back around towards her back.::"Food and Music - Like back home when we smoked from the--Shhch!"
:: Words abruptly halted as an elbow edges straight to Patcholouli's ribs. Yeah Pinky was energetic, but that hyperactivity to have a strange almost painful edge on occasion. Like her elbow. THe 15-year old's face turns bright red before she glances down. Now in an attempt to be subtle.::
"Uh, or a lollypop maybe?"
(james)
the Ahroun's mess of jungle-vine hair sways towards gravity's call
prompted by the distancing of his gaze, the introspection of his countenance
.... duty calls
and one lanky form extracts itself from sidewalk's grip
bucket turned over to receive it's package of trench, drumsticks, and now-folded tophat
he may be a Gnawer, but he damn well cleans up after himself"Thank' f'r th' hosp'tal'ty, Yu, but gotta g't s'me take-ou' f'r th' boys 'n check-in a 'r own turf. Nex' time." gaze turns to the others in the group, departure signalled with a polite nod "La'ies. Nigh' all."
the bucket's collected off the ground
thumping gently against his thigh as the Fostern retreats to his own territory for the night(annemarie)
A coughdrop? A lollypop? Brows furrow slightly, confused for a moment before she realizes they think she is merely saving her voice, or has lost it in a far less permanent way then she did. A glance up to Yu, and a slight shake of her head. She needs to return home to check in with Gustav in the near future.She stands then, half a beat after James, before, to the girls, lips quirk into an almost smile again, as she writes quickly and turns the pad so they can see. ~No, thank you. Your offer is appreciated, however.~
To Yu. ~I must return to work. Thank you for your offer. Goodnight.~
Before she simply turns, and walks away.
(yu)
*Yu bows his head respectfully to the Gnawer. Holding the position a moment before looking up.
He reads Anne's note and bows his head to her as well. TUrning to Patti and Pinky* Looks like it's just us ladies. Shall we?
*One of his arms extends and he motions down the way.*[fade]
Posted by james at 12:00 AMApril 27, 2004.04.27.04. - sprinkle / whatever it takes part 2 [erik-maddy] *p[forums, continued from 4/20 scene - whatever it takes, part 2]
(erik)
He had stalked his prey well, singling out the most corrupt, the furthest gone, and hense, the weakest. Once the target was known he returned to normalcy but only to gather the ingredients he would need. The packmate, one. The student, two. And ugly makes three.He and his packmate return to the pit. Ugly, the alpha, selects the prey. Go, warrior, and harry it back to me.
Caught. Its legs broken cruley; no escape. Its carapace broken; no escape. Pinned through and held fast; no escape. But how does one torture the eternal victim? Ugly knows...
And the student shows with the implements right on cue. Forbidden magic made from oak branch and pure water. Don't let the Father see us. Widdershins.
Screaming from the prey, cowering from the packmate and the student. Charade. Sprinkle sprinkle. Tell us more. sprinkle sprinkle, tell us more. Sprinklesprinkletellusmore. Moremoremoremoremoremore. Never, never did evil stoop so low...
(madison)
and the student...she shows with the implementsLike it wasnt strange enough to be looked upon as his student again. But to be wandering in to the umbra while Erik was doing whatever it was he was doing, was even stranger.
But she had come and brought what he needed.
Enter Madison Cassidy.
Look how much had changed since she had been packed up with him back in St. Louis.
But some things hadnt changed at all.
Erik was only [slightly] uglier then before, he had aged however, wisdom showing in everything he did, the little bit of childhood he had been holding on to the last time she saw him, now completely gone.
Warrior through and through, and something seemed to have stripped him of any smile he once had.
Crazy fucker, thats what he was, always a crazy fucker.
Her talen is activated, eyes moving to the other 2, she slowly begins to realize what is going on.
As the sense of fear begins to creep into her body...she doesnt show it. Swallowing back any kind of reaction that may show fear or uncertainty.But she is here... to help however they needed her to help.
(james)
Go, warrior, and harry it back to me.and the packmate went - alone - to drive the prey into alpha's claws
masked by the blessing of a treacherous talen
fueled by a devastating hate which never seemed to do anything but grow
even before it is caught and broken, the prey leaves splattered ichor trailfear. revulsion. cowardice. submission.
it is all a part of the charade, so very easy for him to thoughtlessly perform
for while Ugly weilds such forbidden magics
the silent packmate watches, listens, learns, and waits while on constant guard
raggedyman war-form steadied by the strength of his convictionNever, never did evil stoop so low...
(beware the means with which you justify the ends, boyo)[in progress]
Posted by james at 12:00 AM.04.27.04. - favor [imogen] *pd[riverfront]
(imogen)
The temperature has dropped drastically again. Spring comes and falters, sliding toward winter again, shocking by its suddenness. More accurately, perhaps, it slides toward fall. Because hovering somewhere around 40 degrees, fall is what it feels like, right down to the smell of the air, cold and damp.Her hand flicks down the collar of her jacket, suede and holding only the most minimal of warmth, the turtleneck beneath probably doing only a step or so better (not cotton, but made of some mixture, fine fabric that probably feels nice on the skin, smooth beneath the hands) at keeping the more less temperate weather at bay.
And just think. Two months ago, this would have felt warm.
Collar smoothed, she walks up the cracked pavement that leads toward the disenchanted factory, a stray bit of glass cracking beneath her foot as she walks. People like Imogen can be recognized from miles away. It's not even her hair and height, the flaming untamed-almost-tamed mass visible for ages, her height diminuitive enough to make her recognizeable. It's also in her step, the way she moves with an assurance that is not quite a dancer's grace, or a warrior's gait, but hovering somewhere in between, caught in economy and the sheer beauty of movement.
(james)
there are those particular sights which, irrevocably, warrant attentionone: Imogen walking down the street
two: James standing on a corner about a block and a half past the intended factorywell, he's not exactly standing, per say
he's bent at the waist and half-leaning into a car window
and without noting the "Pizza Hut" sign tilting on the four-banger's roof
it may be aaaaallllll too easy to get the wrong ideabut soon enough he's straightening
two large boxes balanced in one hand
a pack of beer in the other
boots beating a rather hasty retreat back towards the current home
it was only supposed to be a quick run out to grab the delivery
so he didn't bother with more than his trench thrown on over stained BDUsnot the normal amount of forethought the Ahroun normally shows, is it
(imogen)
Hell. Even with the Pizza hut sign tilting on the roof, it could be easy to get the wrong idea. After all, Imogen doubts that employees of Pizza Hut are exempt from the touch of the wyrm, and equally so, she doubts that James would be against killing a pizza boy, simply for the fact he was a pizza boy.She does, however, smirk slightly, if slowly, to see the Ahroun beating foot back to the factory, trench coat flapping in the wind. She pauses where she stands, a hand absently rubbing briefly at the back of her neck, before the gesture falls away, hand dropping to her side, as she arches an eyebrow at the Bone Gnawer, "Cold, is it?" she inquires, entirely without sympathy.
(james)
"Jus' peachy."warmed with an equal amount of compassion
shot back with a mirroring lift of brow towards untamed dreadsanything further is lost as chin tucks closer to shoulder
making sure the delivery car has made its way on around the corner
(damn skippy pizza boys may not be excempt from the Wyrm)
and only then does he hand the pack of beer over to her and dig keys from some pocket
releasing them from the weather's winter-remniscent chill
and to the clutches of the rite-heated factory interior(imogen)
Her gaze follows his, over her shoulder to watch the Pizza Hut boy disappear around the corner (and the knowledge that not all encounters end as politely, this way, is something that is not purely theoretical for her), only turning back as James's motion catches her attention, and the sound of the engine is disappearing into the distance.She catches the pack of beer with a finger, holding it by the plastic handle in an action that is almost reflexive, attention glancing downward to read the label upon the cans, an action which might just as well be reflexive.
It's windy, as it is always windy, and even in the moments between waiting for James to open the door and stepping inside, strands of hair escape from her braid to spill across her eyes, catching in coppery lashes. As he opens the door, her hand is lifting, reaching up to catch the strands and draw them backward, wound in the barrier of her fingers and held back as she follows him into the factory.
Tristan has cleaned, which deals with the clutter, but does little with the general ambience of the factory, which is that it was worn, ill-used and generally not designed for living. The concrete floors are cold even in shoes, and the pipes have an annoying tendancy to drip, leaving unpleasant dampness to be found in the early morning hours. The walls are no longer perfectly sealed and the wind howls through them, lending itself to unpleasant and sudden drafts, a fact that is not assisted by the fact that it appears that none of the windows have been sealed in years and some of them are lacking in whole window panes, anyway, so any sealant done by the inhabitants would be useless. The drafts do not last long, thankfully. James's rite sees to that, swallowing them nearly as quickly as they appear, giving only the most frigid hint of cool air.
Her shoulders roll beneath her jacket as she shuts the door behind them, pressing a bit to insure that the door actually shuts, the solid metal protesting as it is forced to conform against the door jamb (or more accurately, the door jamb is forced to conform with it) and click shut.
"At least," says the redhead, smoothing her flaming hair behind her ears, "in Jersey, it knew when it was time f'r spring."
(james)
there's a soft bit of laughter echoing in the cavernous building
chucked huff catching somewhere in his throat at the notion of amusement
.... can't really argue that, can heit wasn't made for inhabitance, no
and further efforts of the pack haven't made it any more inviting to a normal soul
lowest windows boarded or painted black, higher ones forsaken completely
and nobody took the time to weather-proof them
mostly because it wasn't necessary as compared to uneconomical
James' rite keeping the interior downright summery if you ignore the random chilling remindersand amongst the abandoned machinery, old generator, and various make-shift, thrown-together periphernalia the Garou use to call this "home" sits one blessed reminder they do, in fact, understand wtf civility is and may not live in an unredeemable spiral of total urban barbarianism: the couch and coffeetable from Jersey
pizza boxes parked on the table
Bone Gnawer parked on the couch
trench shucked away before he begins to melt in it
he knows she doesn't need an invitation to make herself comfortable, grab food, or speak what's on her mind
so his attention goes to the top box
one large Philly Cheesesteak - and you can be he'll probably finish it himself(imogen)
It says something about Imogen that when she comes by, it is assumed that it must be for some reason or another, that she comes not for conversation (not that she has much of that) or companionship, but to pass on some information or to say what is necessary, ask what is necessary before moving on. Not prone to social visits, is Imogen, though there are a few with whom she'll allow that indulgence of something resembling companionship. James is one of them, know he it, or not.But that's not why she's here.
She reaches out to take one of the beers, the plastic cracking as she frees the can from the rings, eyeing the pizza, briefly, before her gaze flicks back toward the Gnawer. On subject, then. She never was the type to beat around the bush, even when it was a natural inclination to do so.
"I have a favour t'ask yeh," she broaches, her head tilting briefly, as she puts the yet-unopened beer can back on the table, and slowly removes her jacket, pulling her arms free of the suede. The movement of her shoulders and arms causing a tug across her torso in the fabric of her underlying sweater, allowing for a brief glimpse of a smooth slender neck, and the purplish bruises that fade too slowly in a Garou's eyes.
Her choice of clothing was not likely for his benefit. Throtte-marks are more likely the type of thing she might disguise from her work than from the Gnawer. Like the black tattoo that graces her sleek arm revealed by the sleeveless shirt; things accepted by the Garou Nation. Maybe.
She lays the jacket on the table, an eyebrow lifting as she reaches out to pick up the beer again. She remains standing, as the can hisses with the release of carbonation as she opens it, "If it won't be too much trouble."
(james)
one slice disappears in a series of five bites - maybe less
depends on whether or not you count catching sliding toppings a bite in itself
hands were involved, after all
half of a second slice follows en route before he remembers there's beer
it's truly amazing how quickly the Ahroun can eatshe begins to speak - always business, it is
while he's aware of the rare instances of just "hanging out"
rarer yet are his expectations of enjoying such an evening
dark eyes lift in symbolism of attention
.... then narrow to catch glimpse of bruises
all James does is swallow
he knows better than to askthe fact she's still breathing and capable of speech would have to suffice until she, if at all, chose to explain
one hand balances now quarter slice of pizza
the other occupied by dextrous trick which pops open the can
chin jerking up in acknowledgement"Go'n."
how many times has the Gnawer actually turned her requests down
no matter what it was they asked(imogen)
A frown births, quick and fast across her brow, catching the angle of his gaze toward her neck, but for a moment, she'll let that go unexplained. It's a moment that might go on forever, knowing her. Her explanations are rare in coming, and only when asked (and of course, he doesn't do that anymore. She's seen to that).Outside, the sun flickers beneath the clouds, bringing its golden glow out from behind an accumulating of moisture that in days and miles might become rain. The light alters the shadows within the factory, and Imogen's dark eyes straife at the change in shadowing, attention drifting for a minute toward a shattered window closer to the ceiling. If only because she bought herself a breath of time.
"Teach me to fight? With my hands." Only the barest lilt to her accented voice indicates that this is a question rather than a demand as her gaze returns to the Gnawer, arching an eyebrow lightly in query.
(james)
she lightly arches one brow in query
he, on the other hand, makes the effort to raise both
it's almost enough to get him to stop chewing and stare
save the fact he probably doesn't chew before swallowing anywayshe bought time with a wandering look appraising their expertise at interior decoration
he, on the other hand, buys his own instance of collection without turning away
momentarily caught breath expells in yet another chucked laugh
too short for relieved sigh it simply acts in stead of a lack of anything to say
it's not mocking her request, not by a long shot
it's just that her favor was a hell of a lot more inviting than expected
at least in comparison with past "favors" he's granted"Do I get a know why?" there's a twist of humor crooked on his lips - the question is empty, he doesn't expect to, nor would he need a reason to justify acceptance of any part behind her choices ""r ya jus' g'nna lemme know wh'n y' wanna star'."
(imogen)
That he considered this more than sneaking into a building to destroy a sample (don't breath, she told him) without knowing what it is, and be warned that he was on his own while she did something else, and only to get a call later to help an injured and dead quiet Imogen clean bodies, including more than one war-formed metis garou, and the bodies of what must have been kinfolk fighting them, that he considered this more than all that? Might have actually drawn a smile from her.He didn't really expect an answer, and perhaps having been surprised by her once today, he might not have expected her to surprise him again. But when he speaks, humour or not, her gaze narrows on him for a moment, and the silence spirals out as the kinfolk coldly and ruthlessly controls her temper.
"I hope," she says after a moment, "that I am not quite that bad." This is half said to herself. The beer is yet untouched in her hand, but she puts it back down on the table, half leaning to place it there, a gesture that is not quite smooth in the straightening, the muscles of her flat, smooth stomach (...bruised) protesting such careless usage.
This had not been an easy conclusion to come to, nor an easy request to make. It must have been an interesting experience, to bring Imogen Slaughter to the idea that she must learn to fight without her trusted weapons, knife or gun, and what's more, decide that she needed to be taught by a Garou and not a human, where she might learn this without the questioning. There is an inherent restlessness in her, singing in tension in her muscles and bones that slip-slides through every gesture, including the one where she reaches up and almost casually pushes down the collar of her sleeveless sweater. Imogen's skin has always bruised easily. Blackblue marks show clearly the mark of a hand on her skin.
He might not have expected an explanation, or a justification. But he asked for it, and she feels she must give it, so he must be prepared to be surprised by her yet again. "I couldn't reach my gun," she says quietly, letting go of the neck of the sweater and smoothing it again, "Not fast enough to be of any use, anyway." After all, how does one reach for a gun, free it from one's holster, remove the safety, point it and pull the trigger when a hand (a good sized hand, from the look of it) is intent on squeezing the life out of one? "And I was against a wall, so I couldn't reach out to grab something." Her smirk is caustic, made more so by the fact her jaw is tight. Were she not wearing a high collared shirt, he might see her swallow, reflexively, "And while I don't think kinfolk are particularly the best to be going hand-to-hand, I'll be damned if I help the wyrm by being so inept again." If it weren't for the pronouns she uses, she might be talking of someone else, for the control she keeps on her sentences. Until the last one. I'll be damned.
Pause. "As for starting," she has controlled it again, "I would say, 'as soon as possible'. If," she adds, "you agree."
(james)
indeed, she surprises him twice in one evening
twice in five minutes or less
twice. in. a. row.
the effect of her explanation on the Ahroun is rather obvious
regardless of whether or not he jestingly asked for it
so his silence through her explanation is not merely sign of respectand at the end, he nods
needing little else in terms of clarification
not even needing to reason out why she picked him of all the others"Dun' think ya be tha' bad." laughed softly "Leas' I un'rstan' where a star'." a beat. "One term." The crust of current slice held up in leiu of a finger "Y' hel' keep Deck'r off my ass should 'e getta notion a be 'ffended if any more bruises 'ppear 'n he fine out I'm th' cause've'm."
while mostly aware of things guaranteed to snap the Modi's temper
he knows how easily her pale skin bruises
she knows, now, that if he teaches her - he won't hold back"G'nna give th'm aches time a heal....." he didn't miss her hitch in rising "... 'r wan' me a fine s'methin' more apt f'r ya t' move'n?"
how serious does it seem he takes the matter..... that he - tried and true Gnawer - would forsake the remaining slices of his dinner in order to grant her favor
(imogen)
A long silence upon his term. Ah, the shade of Decker Rohl. "It's a deal." She quite possibly has absolutely no intentions of telling him in the first place.In all of this, he is more amused than she is. Then again, James's temperment is better than Imogen's, his humour swifter. Imogen has a tendancy toward smirks and caustic, dry remarks, punctuated by almost ambush humour, where it takes knowing her very well to know if she is joking, or serious. But she does smirk, after a minute, tilting her head briefly, slowly, tendrils of hair snaking across her cheekbone, "It's not so desperate as to skip out on dinner for. But if you're willing to start tonight, I am."
(james)
the silence lengthens
it doesn't seem like the most stringent or demanding of terms
until one realizes the exact Garou with which their concern lays
that's one battle he doesn't want to fight
(but he's willing to risk it.... for her sake)
so in light of it all, James still bears that decency of humor
(he's a Gnawer, learned to deal with a lot still wearing a smile)
even if well aware of more than the obvious consequences"It'll rehea'."
shoulders, bare skin reflecting haphazard lights seeping in broken windows, hitch in shrug
the notion brushed off with the addition of lopsided grinafter a collection of movement that results in standing
the Gnawer disappears - with his beer - into the darker reaches of the factory
some corner or side-office now converted into a space mainly his
from it, he returns with a balled up t-shirt and pair of black, cut-off fatigues
not the height of fashion, assuredly, but easier and cooler to move in than what she's got on
even if what are long shorts on him will be full pants on herclothes tossed across the coffeetable
she knows where the bathroom is
and can make the choice of how much she's willing to change into
he, on the other hand, is making use of the time to finish at least another slice or three of pizza(imogen)
The clothing hits the table, and for a moment, she looks at him rather than the clothing, before inclining her head briefly. "Thank you," ever notice that when Imogen says 'thank you', not 'ta' but an actual thank you, it sounds like it's truly meant? Simple words, thank you.This hardly sounded like it was a difficult request, nor that his term was so hard, but ... when you consider the circumstances. Even her request on its own. Let me fight for myself, not so that I will live, but so that I do not assist my end.
Heavy stuff, that.
She reaches out, cautious of the open beer on the table to pick up the clothing in a slender hand and turn to walk toward the bathroom.
Simple matter to change her clothing. "Next time," she says as she walks out, a hand rubbing absently at the side of her bruised and damaged neck, "I bring my own clothing."
Because being five feet and some odd inches tall and weighing perhaps 100 pounds does make one feel a trifle foolish, to be wearing a six foot one inch tall man's clothing. The smirk she offers at her comment is lack luster. Most of them have been. She's tired, that much is stamped across her features. it might even be enough to explain the lack of energy she offers to her humour.
(james)
"Good 'dea."nodding to her choice of coming prepared next time
on top of the weight of all the other possible issues
neither needs to explain why she smells like himin the time it took her to change
there remains but two slices of the pizza on the table
now, the box lid swings shut to preserve the heat
beer can settles on the surface heralding emptily hollow clang
one lanky Gnawer rising to meet her return halfwayscattered lights from broken windows slashing 'cross the scars on his back
checkering the vicious pattern of ashed clawmarks
oblique reflection highlighting the brand on his chest
going so far as to touch the strange, inkymarks on the inside of right forearm
before striking the concrete floor beyondthe Fostern's perceptive enough to know she's tired
(perhaps by the dull edge of rapier wit?)
and he won't push her beyond necessary
but he also isn't going to waste any more time than necessary, either
(especially with those bruises in plain sight)"C'mon." arms spread loosely at his sides, fingers waggling invitation "Show me what I got a wor' wi'h."
(imogen)
Physical fatigue, psychological fatigue. Both are deadly combinations. Both in her career and in the solution she suggests to solve one, or both (if she can stop thinking about this, she can sleep...) as well as in the dangers she seeks to protect herself from.The smirk twitches again, self deprecating as she stands before him, balance easily run between both feet, shoulder width apart. This, at least, was not something he would have to teach her.
Self deprecating that smirk, perhaps this feels slightly foolish to her. And then the smirk fades and he can almost see her hesitation, a flickering of tension that is controlled and stamped down. Just as ruthless as her temper, so too does she control moments of irrational fear. And maybe she controls that more by starting toward him, than the swallow and deep breath inhaled. Controls it more by doing as he asks, than any other skills she might possess.
Imogen's first experience with a fight, beyond childish brawls was fencing.
That's the first thing he needs to break, a habit of hers. She treats it like a duel, and while she probably wouldn't, were she attacked, it does not bode well for teaching.
When she's not treating it like a duel, she treats it like she has a blade in her hand.
Second habit.
And from there, it's the ground up. She wasn't kidding when she asked to be taught. Her major benefits: a clear litheness and an astonishing grace are almost eclipsed by the fact that at the moment, she cannot move as well. It's something that can easily be frustrating.but Imogen is patient.
And she has a benefit that most do not, her knowledge of the human body.
And she is certainly willing to show James what he has to work with.
Posted by james at 12:00 AMApril 20, 2004.04.20.04. - whatever it takes [erik-madison] *p[umbra]
(erik)
He crouches down behind a piece of umbral wreckage. Over head, webs-lines have grown quite prevalent, as has the glow of weaver-light in the near distance. No wyrmpit, this, yet still, Erik cautions stealth with a brief quiver of the totem bond.(james)
caution rides the wings of impressionistic quiver
response negotiated in little more than lift of umber eyes
the shift of weight following a measured exhale
crouched no large distance away
fingers spread on the spiritworld ground to support his frame
opposite hand resting on the crest of pipe extending past sheath's tip
intent peaks in the raise of brow towards bandana taming dreads
clothing clings to the folding angles of skeleton and muscle
anything considered excess left to wait in the factory
all that moves on the Gnawer is a small leather amulet
it's content weight drawn from it's place at his throat by gravity(erik)
His head swivels slowly, casting vision over the spiritscape as an arm comes up, extended towards his packmate palm up. Fingers flick, calling the packmate to him. Only then does he turn his vision onto the packmate. Horrible, but not because of the ruined mass of scar tissue. No, the face of the alpha is horrible for the grin it wears. The same grin as the last bane the two captured. The same grin as when he told the packmate what the bane was for. "Need its ichor. cover our smell."The same grin he wore as he spread its remains all over the both of them. There will have to be a cleansing after this...
(james)
time strolls slowly by before the shadow unfolds to man
and upon the fusion of two crouched shapes to one
the horrible grin is mirrored by a twisted expression of his ownsometimes, you just have to appreciate whatever it is that gets certain people to smile
so many would recoil from the maniacal gleam dancing in fanatic blue
wary of the unspoken history that inspired such horrible power
but never once has he flinched from the Alpha's gaze
not even now, as they balance so close to the madness that could consume them all
septic glow from the too-close weaver lights find their way into deep umber
scissoring the distal change that reveals glimpse of the monster waiting beneath his skinhe did not flinch as the ichor soaked into his flesh
instead, he formed a distinct curve on lips that once so easily smiled
(.... something's changed in you, Jamey-boy)
those that turn, now, towards the structure beyond wasteland wreckage
drawing attention across what may reveal itself in the lulling comfort of silenceglance strafes, head tips in a body's most primal language
alert. ready. waiting.(erik)
A quick jerk of the head towards open ground draws the eyes along with it. To what might be a building, or a park, or a mailbox on the real side, but is only a dark pooling of shadow here.Erik stops everything, going suddenly still, as a high pitched whine intrudes. Only after it is receding does he look up to find a net spider scuttling along a high web-line. A grim look cast to his packmate before buisness again rears its ugly head.
He speaks, coherent, through the totem bond. "In there is wyrm. You will go in, drive wyrm out, here, to me. I will hide, wait, and capture. Use wyrmscale and do not speak to wyrm." No asking if he understands. That question will be answered if his packmate is alive to observe the questioning of corruption that will follow.
(james)
lips part, tongue sliding across the even surface of white enamel
it is the only response James outwardly forms to the spider, and the instructions
across the silence of packmate bond, breath chuffs in accordance
dark (darker) eyes locked on the voidal pool yawning aheadthere is no pause for farewells as he stretches to stalkng gait
no glances across shoulders clawed by the tips of blackly ashed wounds
(it's as if the darkness already creeps towards stronger hold upon him)
there is no last chance given to the affirmation of his Alpha's visual cues
just as there is no waver in his path even if it directs him around the camoflage of scattered debrisif he does not understand - there is no reason for him to know the path of return, nor the familiar face that would have greeted him
the weapon draws silent out of its thighbelt sheath
subdued flash reflecting the capture of distant lights on murderous metal
freehand swings to ready near the concealed scalelost in the darkness of the umbralscape shadow
each step drawing closer to their hunt's tainted quarry
he gives no thought to hypothesized plan and action
there is no other option than doing. whatever. it. takes.(erik)
It is good that he does not look back. No alpha, he, yet no yearling either. Blooded and cut, the packmate should be well alone. Erik, shrouded in blissful ignorance so that the spirit worlds around him cannot find him, ruminates as he watches his packmate. Not many could or would do what he has asked so simply, alone. They would look to pack, making their strength into weakness. Not this one, though.(james)
slipping through the umbral-structure maze within the darkness
he reflects to ignite the sigil's blasphemous protection in shades of luminescent green
he does not spare the attention Tribal logic would dictate question his actionshis immediate, unconditional acceptance that has him striding into the nightmare all but completely blind - and away from the one thing in this spirit world that stands for what it is so obvious he treasures above all else
he is not arrogant enough to construct expectations with greeting the coming dawn
never has he wasted a day with the assumption another is guaranteed to follow
long before he learned to take the monstrous shape which embodied his Rage
he knew what life his kind were born to spend caught in endless battle
should this finally be the night destined as his last to walk the earth
it shall not bear the stain that he once doubted why his heart beat so strong and true
(... how deep is your faith... )something darkens in the endless night ahead
a shadow which thickens to turn its toxic face towards the nearing creature
breath expelled to coat the masqerading Garou with sickening, sticky fumes
flesh quivers beneath the growing pelt that blankets him in illusion's corruption
everything he despises about what he appears to be suddenly focused on the hovering baneits explorative attention slapped back by the blistering explosion of heatwave Rage
its curious gaze brutalized by pipe-driven spike pushing with the force of fanatical hate
its howling pain answered by savage teeth snapping behind talon's ripping slash
its defensive strikes drawing blood into grizzled fur - but the Crinos. makes. no. sound.black lips curl to shape that twisted, hungry, hunting smile instead
the Wyrm's vile shifters need not a reason to justify the madness of their abuse
there is no break in his assault long enough to try to question the method within his own growing wrath
(give it no time to think, give it only time to fear)
slowly, steadily, mercilessly - he drives the bane back through the shadowmaze
soon enough, the fight twists into flight, and the assault becomes a chase(erik)
He waits, he watches. Patient as a puma, watchful as the deer. He feels, more than sees his packmates position. As James enters the harrying, even though erik is a hundred yards away or more, his heartrate and breathing still increase. He can almost feel the moment approaching, definitely feel the rage rising...And the moment
Is almost
ThereThe umbra is Blissfully Ignorant of his presence, as is the bane, though the packmate knows. Ignorance is no substitute for saftey, as the bane suddenly learns on the end of the Alpha's claws. Its stuck fast, writhing, trying to heave itself off, away.
(wyld chyld)
She had seen him only briefly. He hadnt changed much. Gotton a bit uglier, slightly meaner, he certainly never was much of a conversationalist, but she had thought he would have had more to day. something must have happened But it had been a couple years, and of course shit had happened.
Shit had happened to her as well.
So much had changed in the years since Grendel Park. That was for sure.so the encounter had been only a few minutes.
Some welcome, fucker.
But there was no ill will here, in fact she had expected no less from him.
He was always quiet and sullen. She was the exact opposite.
Most of the time saying exactly what was on her mind long before thinking about it, which was something she had actually been working on.
progress?
growing up?
Nawwww.... coincidence perhaps.She had never been the quiet one, nor the antisocial one.
Enter Madison Cassidy
Wyld Chyld.
Maroon doc martens on her feet. Carrying her up the sidewalk. Jeans and a black T-shirt that just reads in red letters. "FA-Q"
Funny, seems she is always wearing that shirt. A flannel tossed over it. Covering her toned body. things aren’t always what they seem to be
Does she look like someone who has been studying martial arts for years? Probably not.
But she is.Her eyes are a eerie blue, and her hair, jet black with a white stripe down the left side. [battle scar].
She has a mischievous look about her, but also a personality that doesn’t repel people the way she could if she wanted to.
And She sidesteps into the Umbra....Slips in. The tattoos on her lower back holding more then just stories of her life.
(james)
he knows where his packmate lays in vicious ambush
he can feel the tandem surge of adrenaline crackling over bonded paths
though the creature seems ready to chase the hapless bane til the ends of the spirit world.....
ignorance shattered at the tips of Blood Eagle's clawsthe shaggy Crinos skids to a stop
gravel skitters and bounces frightened cadence
his heart thumps heavily against the cage bars ribs set as jail in his chest
breath heaves, compensating a body's efforts to find the stasis of rest
wounds drip, the few still open and seeping offering wet rain to filthy groundalready driven to the points of excess
the writhing beast is further pushed to the brink of resources
it doesn't take long for two battle-veteran Garou to subdue the bane
(erik)
The bane is beaten, pummeled and stomped into submission, and Erik, at least, seems to take a zealous glee in this. He smacks and slams the bane around, and even lets the packmate get in a few poundings. Their strength is unimaginable, and Erik's glee, horrible.Satisfied, sated, at last, Erik deliberatley and slowly shrinks back to the homid form. He is quite unaffraid, and the bane knows it. Casually he scans the area...
(wyld chyld)
And what was it about the fucking umbra that gave her that strange feeling.
never completely comfortable but shed never show that, anything she felt shoved deep down where no one could find it.In her hand, a tree branch and some river water. Yes the tree branch had some green on it, and the river water in a small jug was fresh.
This was in fact the only thing he really had said to her in their brief encounter. Something about coming here, and bringing this.
The items would swirl into her body art when she shifted Yes, she had brought them with her, as asked.And now she finds herself walking in the downtown area, only it wasnt the downtown she was used to.
She cant feel him. Not anymore, no longer packmates, no longer beta to him as alpha.
Let him find her, he would. That she knew.
(james)
Erik isn't the only one that finds some kind of unnerving glee in the beating
most that know the shaggy Ahroun would hope he's simply keeping up the sake of appearence
further traumatizing the mess that was once a bane
but the way he settles back on his haunches once it's "over"
tail whipping back and forth in slow arches just about the ground
spike tipped pipe lazily cradled in one giant handpaw
still wearing that dangerously crooked grin....perhaps it is better off to not bring such questions to light
deep umber eyes stare through the gore splattered into fur
unwavering as they watch the dark spirit
automatically keeping his attention at his Alpha's back(erik)
Eyes narrow, focusing on a distant figure. That would be Madison, right on time. Right fuckin on time. He whips his eyes back at the spirit and lets out a snarl that even she must hear. The Bane sqrirms again, screeching even louder than the Alpha, but it doesn't get away... Erik reaches down, and with his bare, human hands proceeds to break each and every leg the spirit has. There are several. And still no words. He's in no hurry.(wyld chyld)
Now would be a good time to activate the talen Erik gave her. Most of the time she didnt even question the shit. She just did it.He had always looked out for her, and she fought him tooth and nail, usually to no avail.
Or at least that was how it used to be.
A long time ago. like brother and sister they were. But so much had changed. She couldnt even feel him near.
was he
Didnt matter anyways, so far she had already met so many different types in this town...Some she liked, some she didnt, and none of it really mattered much to her.
She was unique. And that mouth, the things that sometimes came out of it, that would be the death of her someday. If she wasnt careful.
Talen activated...Deceitful to the things that lurked here in the umbra.But in the distance now. Like clockwork, timing really was everything She begins to see the figures in the distance.
And...not quite on time, slightly late...as always
(james)
broad, lupine head tips - let us hope it is simply curiosity
(not with the hunger and wrath still burning in those eyes)
watching the deliberately and davastatingly slow process directed at each legspiked tip of the pipe slams to the earth, buried almost to the welded joint
riiiiight in the path of where the bane thought to squirm away from increasing pain
teeth bared in warning that draws no growl from his throatattention breifly diverts for his own ascertation of whom approaches
but now he's settled to watch, and keep watch
the weapon drawn back to hold at ready
his initial part in this little endeavor complete
here begins a lesson not all would be privy to learn(erik)
Another look is spared for the approaching Madison, since the bane isn't doing much now but flopping in place. Can't even seem to get off of its back, now. She's comming, and, yes, he sees that she has brought him what he wants. Good. Soon the hard part will come...Attention back on the bane. He reaches down again, and now, no matter how human his hands look, no one could mistake that for anything but an utter lie. One grips the edge of a boney plate, the other presses down right next to it, and...
Ri-i-i-i-i-i-i-P
The boney plate is cast away as the alpha leans down, putting his wreck of a face right in front of the banes. His finger traces the outline of the hole...
He speaks.
No language James would know, or want to know. The language of the wyrm passes from his throat like rat droppings. Now the bane understands. Now it knows.
But it does not.
(wyld chyld)
And now she can seee..
Whatever is going on.
She stops a few steps back before moving right into the action before her...Erik speaks. Her eyes fall on the banes, the other there, who she recognizes slightly from Jersey, and back to Erik.
She says nothing, as ballsy as she can be about saying something obmoxious or smart assed, she also knew when to keep her mouth shut. [sometimes]
Holding the items in her hand. She waits.(james)
instinctively, long velvet ears flatten against his skull
no Garou would want to hear that language hissed from so near
especially not from the trusted lips of their Alpha
but James does not turn away, at first
rhythmic the scan of visual guard pulls his gaze away
though (all too) soon deep umber returns againhidden beneath the thickly wet pelt colored by still-dripping gore, his skin. crawls.
attention flicks to Madison when she joins their torturous circle
(erik)
Take the branch. Take the water. Bring them to me(james)
the Crinos stands without any outward sign of incentive
crossing the distance between himself and Madison with but a step
handpaws held out with grunt indicative of what he wants
and when she gives up the branch and water
he turns to pass them on to his Alpha
(erik)
Erik stops the merciless chant and plunges his finger down intot he exposed belly of the beast. Never do his eyes leave those of the evil spirit, and never are the spirit's eyes allowed to look away. Riveted by haterd, a hateed very real and fiercer than any other its ever known. It does not see the burning talen braided into the Alpha's hair.Then the fun really starts. The bane speaks. Fully spirit, and fully corrupted, its voice seeps and writhes under skin and soul.
It tastes... It tastes like eating your best friend, sounds like his screams, smells like his dead, bloated corpse. Even Erik's gorge rises.
He never shows it.
As the packmate approaches he stands without a word. The bane goes on and on, filling the air with blasphemies. Erik isn't listening. Its lieing, still. He takes the implements of torture from the packmate and holds them above the bane.
Sweetest of mercys, it shuts the hell up at that.
(wc)
She hands the stuff to Drums and her hands move to her sides.Watching. Watching everything...quietly. She watches, she listens, the sounds are enough to make her face wrench slightly. She did show it a bit.
Nothing like anything she has ever seen.
Standing in the torturous circle, just watching and listening.(erik)
Back away now. Show fear. Move her with you(james)
at first, James doesn't show his reaction
then something seems to flicker within wolfman mind
(he's felt these things before)but nonetheless - he begins to back away
forcing his ears to pin tighter against his skull
lowering the murderous cant of bushy tail
supplicating the tilt of his head to the side in show of throat
allowing what would be a high-pitched sound to rattle the fur above his larynxtalons catch and grip Madison's flannel
suggesting she move away as well
(wc )
Suggestion taken as she moves away, backing up with the him, her steps probably bigger then his at this point.this wasnt her party, thats for suer, she just came with the sugar.
(erik)
Erik's attention focused soley on the bane as he stands above it holding a branch from a Cottomwood tree green with buds in one hand, and a clay bowl filled with water in the other. For a moment he looks triumphant, then he seems confused. Looking over his back he sees James and Maddy in retreat.A snarl leaps onto his face as he turns and strides towards the two. "The fuck you think yer goin!"
He keeps comming, leaving the bane a few steps away, pinned through with a sharp implement. It can't go anywhere. "I said... The fuck you two goin? Paid in blood did I, for this Gaia-slut rite, and yer gonna fuckin do yer part!" He screaming at the top of his lungs. He grabs a fist full of the packmates hair, trusting his to remain steady. He points witht he branch back towards the bane... "Now get back there you worthless tree huggin muther."
Then he rounds on Madison...
(james)
he moves them a safe distance away
weight shifting on the ballpads of his feet
he makes a show to have it seem nervous action
though in reality it's occupying his further lust for Rage
he may look fearfully uneasy - but so close, she can feel he's anything but
steps deliberately keep himself as a sheild, as if to protect her from such fearsome things Erik shall be
though they do more for allowing his continued surveillance of what surrounds themattention swings back to check on his Alpha
(Totem Phone: Easy now. Play along.)
and he all but collapses to the ground as the verbal tirade begins
(.... now would not be the time to admit it's because of laughter)
doing his best to scramble and scrape his way back to the bane
and out of the infuriated homid's gripmisplacing humilation's wrath in several - bluffed - snaps at the pinned bane
(the fuck you lookin' at??)(wc)
Rage all around.
He moves them a safe distance away before Eriks words lash out at them, and she cant help but smirk.
Yes...smirk.
like old times
Normally a snide comment inserted here, however, this was one of the times she knew not to.Never a dull moment...
and her eyes reach his and she swallows down any sign of fear or uncertainty
before heading back to the circle.the fuck you think you guys are going
"nowhere" she muttes out.
(erik)
His face contorts into an almost explosion, eyes bug out, wide, blue, freaking. Like a trip arm he swings the branch around and slams it against her face. Its not an incredibly solid weapon at the end with which he hits her, but he is also much stronger than when she knew him before. Then he is on her, grabbing two handfulls of coat and heaving her towards the packmate. Yes, much stronger. Hope she's still as witty as ever. She's gonna need every bit of that.And yes, walking back towards them and the bane, he is starting to have some fun.
(james)
he was born into Skid Row Vaudeville
it is easy enough for him to play along
body language repetoir of ducks and quivers and flinches
the nervous dance of step to keep him out of the line of fireoh, by the translation of what relays beneath the totemic bond
Erik's not the only one having fun[continued in forums - 4-27]
Posted by james at 12:00 AMApril 16, 2004.04.16.04. - nearly new [imogen-kelsey-tristan-leroy-nelly][riverfront]
(kelsey huber)
Getting ready to close up the shop for the night and maybe take advantage of the very warm evening. Things were slow, not so great for business. Standing in the front window of the shop, idly flicking one of the crystal suncatchers as it makes rainbows of the dying sunset. Hundreds of tiny rainbows dancing across her, the walls and floor. Light flickering out to blind anyone on the street looking that way at the moment.
Nearly New in bold letters on the plate glass window. In smaller letters beneath. Second hand shop with the hours of operation. Through the window, racks of clothing, shelves of shoes, handbags, odds and ends, even dishes. Just about anything you could think of, eventually came through the doors here.(imogen)
"Here, get the door, would yeh?" inquires the kin, as she prods the door briefly with an elegant black shoe, turning to look over her shoulder at the lanky Bone Gnawer, holding a box which likely the Ahroun knew better than to offer carrying. Friday night, and the weather is gorgeous almost tragically warm (because it's just a freak heat wave; tragic because it was never meant to last); weekends, James knows from experience is often when Imogen works, and when she is found here it is often for that. Her morbid business.Tonight, perhaps, was an exception. Considering her motives (Droppin' off books, she'd explained as he'd walked up to her. Must be eery, after a while, how sometimes she meets people she knows on the streets. Then again, maybe with that breeding that allows even strangers to walk up to her on the street, it was not so eery after all) and that she wears no pager. That she wears a jacket, but wears it open (so if she is armed, it is not in the traditional shoulder holster). That her attention was not quite distracted, waiting for that page or phone call.
Rare evening, this.
The slight slender woman steps away from the door, shifting the uneven weight of the box in her hands, the sound of books shifting within, as she imparts a small bit of knowledge, "owner's Fenrir kin," in a barely audible southern english (not to be mistaken for southern) burr.
(james)
rare, nights like this
not only is the good Doctor out and about sans pager
(not armed? surely you jest)
but that she allows James to help her in some form or fashion
even if it's just holding open something as meager as a door
when it's obvious the box she carries weighs considerably morenevertheless!
one lanky Ahroun reaches above and beyond Imogen's head
calloused drummer's fingers hooking around the barely offered ledge of the door
and hauling it open with about as much fanfare as one can expectit's a funny sight, this
at least to his own safely hidden sense of humor
she, as always, dresses with some sense of decorum
tonight's fare mere open jacket above her clothes
however, he - as a chin tips up to acknowledge her offering - seems to belong here more than she
very little on his personage (wolfage?) is closer to new than second or even third hand
from the wornout, dully shining Cochran's
all the way up ratty BDU's and drably colored t-shirt
to the greyly faded bandana holding back his dreadsthe quirk of his brow relays the slurred words which don't make it to his lips
(....'nather f'kkin Fenrir?)(kelsey)
Frozen in the middle of flicking one of the crystals, hand lifted with her finger extended. Lips parted with one of those surprised/stupid looks for a long second.
Door was opening and she'd been so busy gathering wool that she hadn't even noticed the approach through the glass."Oh! Let me help you there."
Crystal spinning back and forth, rocking slowly even as she headed towards the door extending her arms for the box.
"We can put it over here on the counter."
Offering to take one side of the box to help lift it to the counter, if Imogen wanted the aid.
Chestnut hair rich and deep in shade, a blend of almost red, brown and nearly black strands that added depth and luster. Eyes a gold flecked green in color. Her hair worn loose to spill just past her shoulders.
Casually dressed in jeans and a fuscia tee shirt. Welcoming smile going from Imogen to James, even as the feel of James slammed against her senses.(imogen)
"Ta," her version of thank you. She does not have to duck James's arm to enter. The height difference between them (a foot even, were she without slight heels, and still close to that because Imogen is pratical, and does not allow such things as a need to be tall get in the way of moving easily) is enough to allow such interactions to pass easily.Certainly, more easily than the small redhead attempting the door herself.
And maybe it is humourous, if only in the contrasts. Slight slender redhead dressed casually, but still, in a manner that speaks of some amount of money. A degree of comfort that does not require shopping in second hand stores, only sometimes requires dropping something off. when it is no longer needed, no longer wanted. Suede jacket, jeans low slung on slender hips. Whatever shirt, doubtlessly a fine fabric, doubtlessly a pale colour, hidden beneath the box she carries. Long hair pulled away, strands escaping to spill across her cheekbone as she glances once more over her shoulder toward the Gnawer.
The grin that speaks more than his slurred voice is met by a brief flash of a smirk, sardonic curling across a pale mouth.
There were certainly a few fenrir in the area. ... the more things change...
"S'alright," she says to Kelsey as the girl rushes to help. Soft spoken, is Imogen, "I've got it. S'not tha' heavy." And if there is relief to relinquishing her burden to the counter, it's well hidden.
(james)
the somewhat surprised owner's smile is countered with one of his own
lopsided, as it is
seems the muscles on the left side of his jaw don't work exactly right
and it may have something to do with the notch that runs along his jawline
but any ascertation is most certainly pushed away by the bodyslam of what's hidden beneath his flesh
(but the moon's only a bare sliver in the sky....)the Gnawer's eyes are quick to scan the shop's interior
(or is it the tug of pure breed that's caught his attention)
most likely he'd buy anything necessary here
instead of anything competing on the department store marketfingers lift and waggle a hello to Kelsey as the door swings closed behind him
(kelsey)
Surprised really that Imogen had come back, but pleased. Unable to hide the smile. Like the shop, her own clothing was well used but cared for."These are maybe the books you spoke of the other night?"
Shooting looks from Imogen to James. He was easy to figure out. Well, pretty much so. She could feel the prickling of her skin, that inner voice saying, Werewolf.
"Hello, welcome to the Nearly New shop."
Welcoming smile to James with his wiggle of fingers. A wave towards the rows of shelves and racks of clothes.
"Please feel free to look around. There's even a little furniture towards the back."
She'd done what she could to get the musty smell out of the shop when she had opened up. Hopefully with his keen sense of smell he would catch the smell of candles and flowers over anything else.
(imogen)
"They are," she says, fingers stretching now, relieved of their burden, before thumbs hook into the belt loops of her jeans, "Mostly british, like I said. If there're some yeh don't want, or don't think yeh can sell, le' me know, an' I'll take 'em back," the smirk crests again. The woman is likely the type to never smile and mean it, "Kept 'em f'r years now, I can keep 'em a while longer."(kelsey)
"You want cash, a credit voucher or do you want to put them on consignment?"Opening the top to rise up on her toes and take a peek inside. Sneezing when the flap flips back up to hit her nose.
"Like I said before, you never know what someone might come in looking for. I'm sure someone will be interested in these."
Rubbing her nose with the tickle.
(james)
James has half a mind to pop off a catchy retort
something like Sell them all to prove her wrong!
but considering he's still within Imogen's elbowing range
he decides the better of such a quippish actioninstead taking his attention (and bodily sanctity) to wandering the store
after a breif - Eagle trademark - nod up to the invitation
surely, his senses pick up what hidden smells beneath the flowers and candles
but given the places he, himself, has lived
the musty smell doesn't particularly bother nor concern him
he goes about his business poking around the store's novelties
(while keeping a trained eye and ear on both the kin)(imogen)
Within Imogen's elbowing range, and after all, was the kin likely to truely be unarmed? Not that she's shown any proclivities toward random violence (... well.); and after all, her dark gaze did not appear to have limits of distance to crisp a man's (and a woman's) skin, so perhaps distance was not the solution. Depending on her mood. And the subject.Within the dark recesses of the box a cover or two is visible, and what might be a text book or another. Mostly, they appear to be something literary. Obscure (though perhaps not in Britain) poetry books. Novels. And then the box retaliates, its lid thwapping Kelsey's nose, promoting a sneeze. "Gesundheit," automatic as the brunette sneezes, brief attention on James as he steps away, before her gaze turns back to the fenrir, as she shakes her head, "Never mind it," she says with a dismissive gesture of her hand, somehow selling them, or receiving money for them strikes her as odd.
(kelsey)
She was already trying to figure out if James was the one described to her the other night. Seemed like he might be the one."A donation then?"
Brows rising, smile flicking across her lips, touching her eyes with a crinkling at the corners.
"I could give you a receipt for taxes if you need one."
She didn't get many donations so the offer of receipt was automatic.
(james)
as his cousins prowl the vast countrysides of the world
James, urban wolf to the core, prowls around the store
interest peaked at a variety of delightful little things
Stuff!
but soon enough his attention strafes back to the redhead and brunette
and the lanky Gnawer slowly closes the distance between
pitching a hip to lean against the counterquiet, isn't he
still... mostly.... out of elbowing range
should the crisping glares begin for any reason
it's every member of the Nation for themselves(kelsey)
"If there's anything I can help you with, or if you have questions, feel free to ask."Smiling to James with his return. He had the raw animal feel of danger to him. The feel that both alerted one and for some, attracted them.
"There are things stuffed in every crack and cranny here and even some still in the back in boxes that I've not had time to sort out yet."
(imogen)
Imogen's a perceptive woman, all thing's considered (and not), so Kelsey's glance James's way might have sparked a memory in the dark eyed woman, which compelled her to incline her head toward the man with hair in dreads, a little taller than Decker and brown eyes, "That's James," she confirms."Receipt f'r taxes is fine." After all, every bit helps. Her attention turns toward the urban wolf prowling his way back to them. And for a brief second, maybe consideration sparks in dark eyes before it fades and she glances back toward Kelsey as she speaks. James's turn to answer, should he care to.
(james)
raw animal. danger. threat.
he could very well rip them in half without even shifting, if he wanted to
but there's something about his easy-going, lopsided smile that speaks deliberately otherwise
aside from it's inclusion just below razor sharp umber eyes which only confuses his seeming intentions
jaw dropping in a nod as weight shifts towards comfort"Q's'ion one." the words are soft, but thickly accented by New York's homestate status and an obvious slur "Where y' hear' a me."
he didn't miss Imogen's clarification
(kelsey)
Murmuring to Imogen."Thank you, I did wonder."
Then lifting her voice to normal.
"Great, receipt I can do. Now tell me, other than priceless, what would honestly value the books at?"
For herself, something was only worth as much as someone was willing to pay for it.
Always keeping track of James' actions. Casual and relaxed as he might seem, she knew he could likely move like greased lightning if provoked. Meeting his look head on.
"Decker told me if I needed to make contact, you were one to look for."
(imogen)
Her shoulder lifts in a one sided gesture, before lifting her chin, not in a nod (the difference is distinct), but in a gesture toward the books, "On th'back is th' price in pounds. Some might 'ave th'American dollar price, too, dependin' on where I got 'em, but if they don't, th'price is roughly double in american dollars. Text books are worth less because they're out-dated editions, so some o' th'information is out o' date."Threat. Her gaze turns back toward James as he speaks, but the kin does not bother supplying the answer, leaving Kelsey to her own devices on this one. She does not have quite the same watchful quality as Kelsey does.
So maybe the half-hopeful whispers of other kin is true. Maybe you do get used to the burn of rage, after a while. Numb to it. (...never)
(james)
now
James is an Ahroun
James is a Fostern
James is, for all suits and purposes, the ranking Gnawer in the city
and for aaaallll that rank and power it gives him in the Garou Nation
he doesn't seem to think twice a kinfolk meeting his gaze dead-on
actually, the wolf in man's clothing seems to prefer it
because that, combined with her explanation, inspires a softly musical laugh"Thaaaa'd 'splain it." the glance to Imogen ranks at "humoring saint" for what burden he must bear for Eagle pack, and weight shifts to extract an arm from supporting his weight and offer the hand in an introductory shake - friendly even "James Brans'n."
(kelsey)
The line of her back and shoulders, straight and proud. No sign of backing down with the extended hand."Kelsey Huber. Pleasure to meet you, James."
Warm fingers sliding against his in taking his hand to shake it with a little squeeze. Dad had always said, you measure someone by their grip, nothing was worse than a limp cold fish handshake. So she worked at giving a firm shake whenever the occassion arose.
(imogen)
Her hands leave the loops of her jeans to make a brief gesture in response to the humouring saint glance the Gnawer gave her. This mixed with a smirk, and the expression is perhaps best read as 'better you than me.'this can be taken several ways. Obvious is that simply she'd rather not suffer through it. The second more subtle is that he's better at it. This is singularly indicated that she's met Kelsey thrice now, and still has yet to offer her a name.
She rubs absently at her right shoulder, gaze flicking toward the open window of the shop and the sky burned red and roan (some might see the sunset in the colours of her hair) by the guttering sun barely visible above the skyline. And a man walking past, his gait shuffling and his shoulders stooped.
(james)
there's a lot to be said in a handshake
her touch is warm and smooth - firm with a little squeeze for flavor
his touch is searing hot (Rage) and roughed by thick callouses - he could crush her bones into powder
though, luckily, has absolutely no reason to
(.... fancy that)
he may think and speak like the formally educated
but James most definitely lived a traditionally hard Gnawer life
that much Kelsey can tell by the mere touch of his hand
forget about hearing the stories of his scars"Pleas'r's mi'e." again, that quirked grin "'m defaul' PR f'r th' boys..... mus' be I know my manner' 'r s'm'thin." ah, yes, the Ahroun has always been a street performer at heart, at it shows by such easy cadence of conversation with a stranger as compared to Imogen's remote silence "If y' can' fin' me... look f'r a kid name' Tris'n. Plays vi'lin. He'll know where t' look."
(kelsey)
Taking her hand back with a nod and smile."Tristan. He lives around here?"
Another name and now she needed a face. Feeling as if her hand was on fire from the rough calloused heat of his handshake. Giving Imogen her attention for a moment though she kept half an eye on James.
"If you don't mind, I'll take a look at those books, total them up and get that receipt to you in a day or two?"
As a donation she could give full price on a receipt for the books. Unlike if she were purchasing them for resale at a profit.
(imogen)
She inclines her head slightly, gaze drifting back from the window. "I'll drop by," she says, "migh' be more'n a few days, if I've work, but prob'ly within th'week."(tristan)
That boy. If it weren’t for Tristan, the kid would not have a single bit of clothing, let alone anything that remotely fits. Earlier earnings for today is going to change that. Again. He really needs to learn that rite of not busting through his clothes and shoes everytime he shifts too. Between the second hand clothes and donation bins, and keeping the boy fed? Tris is broke near all of the time. It’s a great source of amusement for Dustin, actually. Gives him no end of teasing... Den mom this, Den mom that...Good thing he’s cute.
So! With that in mind, it’s off to the new second hand store (something of an oxymoron there he’s sure) in search of shoes and jeans that fit his ever-growing boy. (....heh.) Door opens – and speak of the devil, here he comes.
Jeans, tank top that doesn’t quite hide some of his scars, battered boots, and those wind-tousled corkscrew curls falling into dark eyes and tickling around strong jaw... he earned the nickname ‘pretty boy’ fair and square.
(james)
"Lives 'n shopsss."the last part of the slur ebbing into a chuckle
James, surely, felt his brother nearing the store
fingers pointing a gun at the prettyboi moving into the store
firing off a pretend round to punctuate his notation(How's that for a hat trick)
(kelsey)
"That works for me, I'm generally here. Or upstairs."A wave towards the ceiling.
"Have an apartment up there."
Attention caught by the opening door and Tristan.
"Hello, welcome and feel free to look around. Any questions, just ask."
Pausing with the finger-gun at Tristan from James. Figuring he must know the new arrival.
Shelves of odds and ends, shoes, some folded clothing, books, knic knacks, even kitchen items. Racks full of clean, but used clothing. All in the best condition she could get them in with sewing things back on and up, washing and ironing.
Another pause as James' words register.
"This is maybe Tristan?"
(imogen)
"I'll come 'round," says the slender framed woman, as her head turns toward the door, a hint of a curl touching her lips, almost another smirk."Good timing," she imparts with the only form of humour she seems to know, which is to say: dry. A hand lifts to carelessly push back strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ear. Imogen, too, it would seem, knew the new arrival.
(tristan)
James surely did, and Tristan isn’t too far behind, though he does have the added benefit of hearing that voice tangled by slur, feeling the rage within and catching that round that is imagination fired his way. Eyes widen and he DUCKS behind the nearest shelving unit holding whatever is on it. “I surrender! A certain redhead...” peek, yup, she’s there too.... “told me NEVER to step in front of another gun EVER! Put it away – I’ll be good, I promise!”Maybe he’s still feeling drunk from last night – or maybe, he feels whole after last night. Either way – that plus 80+ degree weather has him in one hell of a good mood. First time one of them has been seen in a long time. Feels good, actually.
From around the other side, hands playfully raised, he walks up behind James and tugs on a dread playfully. “Talking about me again?” Nod (Up, of course. Hang with the eagles, discover a plethora of bad habits) to Imogen with a grin “You know what they say, timing is everything.” and then dark gaze rests on Kelsey. “The one and only. Whatever they said – unless it’s nice – is most likely a lie.”
James is not the only showman in the family.
Hand offered. “Tristan Stern”
(james)
"Def'n'ly Tris'n."the grinned remark quite possibly answering the both of their questions
however the throaty growl is ALL for Tristan's tug on his dread
teeth beared and everything"Shoppin' f'r y'r kid 'gain?"
(kelsey)
"Kelsey Huber. They didn't say anything bad."Smiling with taking the offered hand. Her's warm, the shake firm.
"You have a child? I do have some infant wear and toddler clothing. Then the larger sizes this way."
Poiting out the locations of racks and shelves.
(leroy)
"Ok LOOK!" He growled as they turned the corner. Creeping along as they always did inside that nifty Custom Chevy Van. "...I've been think'n and well..I miaght as well let ya in. After all...we need all the nekkid bodies we can get..and well..maybe you can be an inspiration to the kids. Do ya know anyone that can get us an electric bull..and cheap?" Finally deciding to let Nelly in on his wee wittle secret as they drove down the Riverfront street.(imogen)
A brief sound low in her throat, a scoff. Imogen, compared to the two showmen must come off as subdued. Quiet and reticent, she of small expressions and subtle responses.An eyebrow does lift slightly as Kelsey speaks, as she murmers, quietly, "how to mortify Kemp in three seconds or less..." leaving the sentence unfinished as she turns away from the counter, gaze flicking briefly toward the toddler and infant clothing that Kelsey indicates, before dark eyes deviate upward toward one of the crystals, following the light pattern to where the rainbows spark across the floor. there's no sun to catch in them now, but fluorescent lighting does almost as well.
(nelly)
She sat up straight in the passenger seat of the van. Her head snapped to the side, bedroom blue eyes widening upon LeRoy's vistage."What?!" she shouted over the radio, one hand snapping out to turn it down, "Electric bull?" black lashes fluttering at the mere though she could once again adorn her proper atire and hop back on one... the only thing mechanical she truely liked... her gaze narrowed, "In on what?"
(tristan)
Ooooooooh. The growling again. Enough to make a guy weak in the knees, it is, especially with them bared teeth. Worse part is James knows exactly how that affects him too.A nod to James. “Yeah – the boy either destroys them or grows out of them almost faster then I can get them.” His shake is firm, yet gentle, roughened fingertips of one who not only works, but plays an instrument as well. “Pleasure, Ms. Huber.” At her question though, he can’t help but crack up. And he does something like a nod and shaking his head at the same time And Imogen’s comment doesn’t help much either. “Well, yes and no, ma’am.” To Kelsey again. “He’s 15, and growing faster then I can keep him clothed. In the hunt for some new jeans, some t-shirts and the like for the warmer weather, and shoes for his damn ski’s he calls feet....”
(james)
urban wolf of the sensitive ears does, indeed, catch Imogen's murmured remark
and he can't help but snicker
taking the rimshot responsibility in full and deigning to explain"Tris'z sort've 'r den mom, leas' f'r few 'roun' these part'."
knowing the male kinsman doesn't look old enough to have a child of fifteen
in reality he's only a year or so older than James himself
though the Garou seems the battleworn senior by sake of appearence(kelsey)
"Just Kelsey is fine."Following the shake, nod, shake of his head with her own head movements while registering what he was saying.
"You have a 15 year old? You either age really well, or you were a baby when he was born."
Trying to equate this face with a 15 year old boy to care for.
"Is your wife as young looking?"
(leroy)
"M'and some of the boys are start'n a fraternity of sorts. Called them Swamp-Monkeys. We need a permenant fixture...an electric bull comes to m'mind. Ya know for them nuddy parties." Grinning ear to ear as the van crept along the sidewalk to park infront of a second hand store he had vaguely heard about from some of the flits in the diner. He knew Nelly loved that sorta shit..and well frankly he needed some cheap stuff as well to decorate the new 'hall' of the Swamp-Monkeys. Their downstairs celler aka dirt basement. Eyes narrowing upon its exterior. "I think this is the shop...Nearly New huh?"(kelsey)
Ok this was making more sense. Nodding while listening and looking back and forth between the trio. Den mother was it?"I'm sorry, had me confused for a moment there. I have plenty of jeans, teeshirts, shoes. And even started unpacking shorts and setting them out with the sudden rise in temperatures. Prices aren't set in stone in this instance."
Relations got special consideration, especially those taking care of younger ones.
"If someting catches your interest, or you have questions, just scream and I'll try and help."
(imogen)
Is your wife as young looking?Amusement flashes and Imogen turns away to study some clothing with renewed interest. That the clothing would never fit her and she'd never buy anything here to begin with doesn't quite seem to be an obstacle.
(nelly)
She sat in thought upon exactly what Butta was up to. If it had anything to do with him and Nookie's sexual fantasies, she'd have none of it. Well... she'd confiscate the bull, that was for sure, but she'd have none of the rest!But upon his explanation, her head tilted off skew. The white blonde ponytail swinging with the movement, "Are ya serious?" her face contorted in a mixture of amusement and confusion, "A fraternity?" those blue eyes turning out the window to where they had parked. A shop, second hand. She would be excited but her mind was occupied with figuring out just how this all got started and who exactly the 'boys' were. Hmmm... was Adonis included?
A quip of her brow and the seatbelt was undone, "Swamp-monkeys?" chuckling, "Ok, ok, lemme get this straight. Ya got some peps and ya starting a freakin fraternity. Ya want all the nakkid parties and lil gals runnin about, so you.." sliding out the door, she slammed it shut and waited till he was out, "Wait, does Nookie know about this?"
(tristan)
Oh god.
He’s gonna fucking bust a gut – it’s been a LONG while since someone’s well... just not known....
He’s still chuckling as he tries to explain.. waving to James’ comment there. “Um. I’m. Um. Not married.” To put it midly and all. Someone’s gaydar is WAY off today.“Kemp is mine by adoption, really as when these guys took him in, I took over the care and feeding of the kid. Couldn’t love him any more if I gave birth to him myself, though. I’m Den Mom to several wayward souls – this one included” nudges James and winks.
A nod, slightly. Dustin’s gonna die to find out he’s got himself a wife somewhere. Of course, Roxy is back in town – and if he ever crossed that street again, it’d be with her.... again. Oh man. Rich. Positively rich.
A not as she points toward the clothing and such. “Thanks, I’ll take a look.”
(james)
Is your wife as young looking?
James.... well... pretty much loses it for a moment
not as reserved as Imogen
he's easily laughing as the situation finally clears
then the Ahroun snorts"Thought I got rank a scand'lous affair?" sulked "Now'm back a jus' 'dopted?"
(leroy)
His door slammed shut behind him. Crossing infront of the van. "No..and I aint gonna tell er yet nither. CAuse.." Chuckling as his foot hit the sidewalk pavement "...I don't kno how yet" Laughing abit.With hands now resting upon his hips, he glanced upwards, sideways and even gave his neck abit of an inverted twist. The facade of the store quickly examined. "Hmmmm....lead the way boo" Gesturing for her to lead into the shopping vista as any girl with the knows should.
"But I can say I think we'll have a miaghty riaght time of it" Again upon the fraternity topic. "Think ya can ride that thing without yer nickers?" Now that was a stupid question. Aint liake she wouldnt..more would she allow herself to become the party visual nookie?
(kelsey)
A wrinkle appearing between her brows with her confused frown for just a moment before pushing the confusion away as another thought hit her. He said he was den mom and nudged James, including him with the comment. Maybe they were a couple?"Oh, you are adopted too?"
James' comment giving her thoughts another pause.
"For a moment I'm afraid I thought he meant you were a couple."
(nelly)
That one brow raised higher, "OOohhh ya gotta get punched if ya don't tell her somethin and she finds out," chuckling with a shake of her head. The girl would flip out. Such things needed to be handled with delicasy.Blue lazy lidded eyes swivled over the facade of the store. Ride a bull without nickers? Her face wrinkled up, "Does a bear shit in the woods?" stupid question gets a stupid answer. The only reason she was dressed now (skin tight faded blue jeans, AC/DC black tanktop nearly containing her Dcup breasts, red cowboy boots) was because she was in public. Opening the front door of the shop, she sauntered slowly inside, "Why Swamp-monkies?"
(imogen)
"Thank you," directed at Tristan, as her head lifts and she turns away (everyone amused, though maybe Kelsey's just confused, and Imogen not quite so) from the clothing to look at the Gnawer Kin, "for that lovely visual." Giving birth to Kemp. Or more specifically Tristan doing so. "It's one to be cherished." Sarcasm, the weapon of an englishwoman (cornish, too, apparently), before a glance at both Gnawers, flushed from laughter and still clearly amused."You're both blooody insane," she says with a shake of her head, the motion dislodging several strands of hair from her face, "should be ashamed o' yerselves, yeh should."
(tristan)
Snorts back, and swats James’ ass. “Look boy – You’re the one who wanted to keep it a secret...” Wink, and just scooooooooooot out of the way before he gets swatted back – but not too fast, in case, well, he was swatted.Blinks at Kelsey.... and dammit he’s cracking up all over again, practically in tears. He hooks an arm around James (Holding himself up, really) and takes a breath. Time to clear it up for the poor girl – not like she won’t find out eventually, and he’s in too good a mood to hide anything. Not that he ever hid, really. “Ok – maybe this’ll help.
“James here is my brother by choice, we met in Jersey and been inseparable ever since. And we’re not a couple, though not for lack of trying on my part. He’s all taken and woefully straight, which of course, I am not – well, except for the taken part, and Dustin is young looking, but not my wife..
“I am Den Mom to all of them by default, as I’m the only one who can cook decently, and doesn’t mind cleaning up after all their messes. And some of them.” Glance at Imogen. Her mate for instance. “Can make some serious messes. At this point, they can’t quite live without me... and aren’t willing to try. So I stick around.” Grins, nodding. “think that about clears it up – I miss anything, bro?” grinned, playfully.
And to Imogen. “You’re welcome, Imogen. You know I aim to please – and when am I ever ashamed of myself.” Grins.
(leroy)
Playing the faithful tag-a-long, he flanked her. Head tipped down, eyes level upon the top of her pink fuzzy cowboy hat as he spoke "Its a combo between Black Unicorn and them Eagles Patron. We is me and m'boy James and yer little date rape Kemp" snickering. Knowing full and well how Nelly may have permanenatly fucked the boy up just by letting him touch her 'sacred' breast. Shaking his head the moment he entered. Eyes rising to swivel about in surveyance. A tinge of his lip tugged at his corners. A grin soon appeared. Hand slapping high in the air as he gave a shout out to those he saw near. "Sweet Potatoe Pie! And my dawg Gibb!!"(james)
Why Swamp-Monkies?
instantly, James' attention clicks towards the door
and his mouth opens to hail his battlebuddy and one southern bellethen. he hears. Kelsey's comment.
and thank GAIA he was leaning against the counter again
cause if not, James would be one pile of laughing Garou goo on the groundto Imogen's comment he, clearly, cannot respond
best he can do is shake his head that no, Tristan did not miss anythingaaaaand he also seems capable of jamming his fingers into the kinsman's ribs right in that ultimately ticklish spot in leiu of a well-deserved smack
(kelsey)
Listening and hoping she was getting all this straight. Tristan was a mother to all of them and gay, but James wasn't gay, but maybe Tristan wished he was? Or oh hell, maybe her brain would pop and it would make more sense? All the laughter made her smile though, it was contagious even if she might be the brunt of a joke.Attention caught with the opening of the door and entrance of the two who had to be somehow connected just with the way the big black man was greeting someone he called sweet potato pie and dawg gibb.
"Welcome to the nearly new shop."
Greeting the new arrivals.
(nelly)
Like any professional bargin shopper, her eyes darted around with a pause just inside the second hand clothing store. A hand reached up to puch the brim of her pink cowboy hat back, glancing back briefly at Butta.James and Kemp... oh! the battle buddies! Makes sense now. Naturally pink lips split into a smile followed by a snicker, "Greaaat, testosterone filled fraternity.." chuckling, she turned back around and started towards the nearest rack, "Ah think its a cool idea ya..." pausing mid sentence as Butta bellowed out. Her gaze sweeping to find the faces. "Thanks, sughabee," to the gal who apparently owned or worked the shop.
(asiling o'connor)
New to the city and somewhat lost, Aisling meanders almost lazily down the city street, blue eyes peering into this window and that, long fingers touching a pane of glass here and there as she spies something with potential.She's a pretty thing, petite yet curvy in all the right places, with a wealth of copper-gold curls spilling in tempting disarray to the soft swell of her hips and is held back from her face by a pair of simple combs inlaid with amythest. Her blue eyes are wide, framed round by thick, pale lashes and lined lightly in lavender kohl. Her high cheekbones are swept with a pale, shimmering pink powder which matches the glossy pink on her full, sensual lips.
An ankle sweeping summer dress of thin, unbleached cotton skims her curves, baring her small, delicately sandaled feet to the eye.
Spying something particular, she slips into the second hand clothing store with a smile.
(leroy)
Brow quipped. Gaze swept right then left. Down steeply it went. Down down down. "Damn sugah..yer bouts Nookie's height" he snickered at Kelsey. "Miaghty obliged fur tae hospitality ma'am" Grinning wider than before. Allowing that mystical warmth and calm he radiated from his grins wash over her and then the rest of them.Eyeing Nelly's advance upon the shop and its particulars, he stomps past Kelsey towards James and Tristan. Arms held wide..outstretched. Swallowing up first Tristan, strangling him in a fierce embrace. Pecking a sweet innocent kiss upon the boy's lips. Suprised? Letting him go with a thud, only slapping his hand upon James' shoulder instead of giving him an equal hello kiss. "Howya doin dawg?"
(imogen)
She did not quite miss the glance Tristan had tossed her way, but had not, perhaps, caught the meaning of it, this fact echoed in the brief lift of an eyebrow, that is distracted as James literally collapses in laughter. And both eyebrows arch. "Hmph." Her lips twitching, amused, a gesture that is cut off as Nelly and LeRoy enter, and it was rapidly getting crowded in the shop.Rage and all.
Her hands reach into her jacket pockets, briefly, discovering what she looks for, and casting a glance toward the two disreputable Gnawers and the confusedly amused shop keeper. "Going t'smoke." Mostly directed at the Gnawers, but some glance Kelsey's way might have included her in the comment, before Imogen steps around the recently entered Nelly and LeRoy, and waits a beat for Aisling to step in, before catching the door as it swings inward, and steps out herself.
(tristan)
(bad html!)
He nods, then, that she’s got it, before YELPing as James unerringly nails that tickling spot and he’s squirming away, right on up to Miss Nelly Bell, who gets a wink and grin. “Evenin...” before he’s suddenly swept up into a....Hug?
By the man mountain and then
Kissed?!?And so he does what ANY self respecting gayboi would do, and flings his arms around LeRoy’s neck and wails...“Protect me! That boy there’s got a mean tickling streak, I swear.” And, still chuckling, as he’s let down he winks at James before moving to the side to the jeans that look to be Kemp sized, and starts checking through them for a couple that will fit.
(nelly)
Jeans. She needed more jeans. A shelf she found and dug her hands thru to find the right ones. But those bedroom eyes fluttered up, to where Butta had lovingly attacked James and... oh, Tristan. Chuckling, "How ya doin sughabee?" to the Eagle's pillowbiter her words were for, but quickly followed by, "Ah laik ya place," the girl, Kelsey, with a quick smile and glance upon.(kelsey)
"Welcome, feel free to come in and look."Extending the welcome to the new arrival, Aisling. Though Leroy's huge presence and the way he just hugged up Tristan and kissed him, well that got her attention again. Was this the other half then?
(aisling)
"Thank you!" She flashes Kelsey a smile before glancing towards Tristan and Leroy, chuckling throatily at their little display.
(james)
most people, much less Garou, when faced with the bear hug shoulder slap ensuing from the mountain of a man LeRoy happens to be - would wilt in the fact of such advances
James, however, takes it all in stride
quite possibly confusing poor Kelsey all the more"Better'n I been ' a long ti'e..." laughed, as chin lifts towards once-cowering gayboi ".... but he's lyin', dun' gotta mean streak imme."
"Kels'y Hub'r." paused, in order to catch the shopowners attention "Lemme 'troduce LeRoy Brown. Badass'n teddybear through'n through. 'n Nelly ov'r there. Sweetes' S'uth'rn Belle've'm all. Fr'en's a th' fam'ly."
so to speak
he's pretty sure Butta can pick up the kinwoman's purebreed and discern her affiliation for himself(kelsey)
"Thank you."Turning her smile on Nelly.
"If you need help just let me know and there's a little curtained off dressing room back there in the corner, if you want to try anything on."
Waving towards the back corner near the couple of chairs, tables, sofas and such as she had in furniture for sale.
(aisling)
"Ooh." She almost bounces as she spies the perfect dress, long fingered hands snatching it lovingly off the rack and holding it up to her curvy self, the hem touching the floor. So, it needs shortening, ah well.(tristan)
Chuckles and nods to Nelly. “Feeling vaguely assaulted, but not necessarily in a bad way...” A glance to Kelsey and her reinterested glance, and laughs. “Not the boyfriend – just a friend. Something of a. Oh. Kissing Cousin, apparently....”Still laughing, he plucks a couple pairs of jeans from the pile and murmurs to Nelly. “Sooooooo. Kemp came home all atwitter the other night. Let him cop a feel did ya?” Oh that smile is pure innocence. (topped with devilish grin).....
(kelsey)
Extending her hand to Leroy with the sure thought his hand was going to swallow her's alive. Her grip as firm as she could make it when he did take it to shake."Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Brown. Ms. Nelly."
Including Nelly with a smile and nod in her direction.
(nelly)
A honey sweet smile played her lips all the while. The icequeen and the pretty young thing walking in the shop (a nod given to her) did not go unnoticed, just no words given to them.She found a pair of deeply dark Paris blues and unfurled them, holding them to her wide set birthing hips. Eyes lift to James's introduction, and her smile widened. To Kelsey, "Nice t'meet ya sugah. N' thanks," that southern accent twanging from her lips. She looped the jeans over one shoulder, glancing up to Tristian with a Grinch-who-stole-christmas grin. A shrug of one shoulder, "Yeah well, figured if he got a feel he'd pay attention to what was bein said instead of these.." glancing down at her breasts, "Why?" blinking, "Ya need a feel too?" laughing, knowing full and well the boy didn't need a feel of hers at all.
(aisling)
Kissing Cousin's...Sounds vaguely familiar. Chuckling softly to herself, Aisling saunters lazily up to the counter and lays out her purchase. "How you doin'," she asks Kelsey, smiling, her accent most definitely Brooklyn-ese.(imogen)
Her breath exhales briefly as she steps out into the warm air, which is at the very least, more refreshing than the quickly filling air of the second hand bookstore.Breath of fresh air doesn't last long, as she lights a cigarette, stepping away from the front window, a few feet away to where the building becomes concrete, exhaling cigarette smoke.
(kelsey)
Huge kissing black men and now the well endowed Nelly was offering Tristan a feel of her endowments? Maybe he wasn't gay cause seemed Leroy wasn't the other half of the pair."Wonderful, I think."
Not sure she would ever sort all this out, it got more and more tangled.
Smiling to Aisling with the reply.
"Do you want to try it on, or are you good to go? Unless of course you are still looking, I can hold this here for you."
Indicating the dress.
(spencer templeton)
A silver Geo Metro which has seen better days, pulls up to the curb near to the Nearly New shop (which seems to be the hub of activity tonight) and the engine dies with a slight sputter. He's going to have to have that looked at. Or start taking public transportation. From behind the wheel, he emerges, closing the creaking door behind him with a bang as he moves around the front bumper (adourned with Canadian plates) and onto the sidewalk. He pauses here to run the fingers of one hand through his spiked brown hair, glancing over the street with crystaline blue eyes before he tucks his car keys into a pocket and glances toward the Nearly New shop. He could really use some new clothes, and what better place to shop when on a tight budget.(leroy)
Missed the waffe of pedigree he did. All a rush to garnish the attention of his friends instead. Taking another long gander at Kelsey after James' intro..his grin was given again in appreciation. "Indeed..not one of mine though...too angular ya know..in them cheeks" Giving her a wink and James an elbow.Extending his hand towards Kelsey's own. Indeed swallowing hers and then some. Palms corse, hardened. Though his touch gentle like soft butter. "LeRoy sugah..Mr Brown is m'gramps." Fluttering an eyelash ruefully. "But yer a sweet dandified thang indeed. Pleasure to make yer acquantance."
Retracting his hand, attention once again upon James. Unconsciously cornering him with his mass and weight. Head looming down, grin ever present. Voice a meer whisper than as of yet given. "Ok..so Im look'n fur the bull, but I've got eleven girls reelin n'ready to ride it..we just gotta come up with the actual contest of sorts..I was thinkn' bout judg'n the chaffin..any suggest'ns?"
(james)
breifly, something seems to catch James' attention
but it's not something that's within the storefront itself
instead - he seems to distance and withdraw
like a thought grappled onto his consciousness
Totem Phonebecause of it, he misses Aisling's accent that should remind him of home
returning to the present to find himself veritably cornered by LeRoy's mass
weight slung against the counter to allow a moment of thought"Chaffin'.... bruisin'.... bouncin'...." mused, then the Gnawer stops, and angles a scandalous brow upwards "...'r ma'by th' size a her grin?"
(aisling)
"I think I'm good to go, doll. Granted, the conversation and company is a tad interesting. It'll fit. Gonna have to hem it but it'll fit."She flicks blue eyes curiously towards LeRoy and company, offering them each a bright smile in turn.
(tristan)
He laughs and shakes his head. “You kidding? That’s all he remembers of the meeting of course. And then his motorcycle ride with Midori getting himself a feel there too – all in the name of holding on for the ride. That boy gets more action then me – a shame, a right shame.” And a brow arches. “Now Miss Nelly, as fine as your... assets are, you know your not my type. Too curvy. But I appreciate the offer.” He chuckles, and rifles through the t-shirts and tank tops too, before grabbing a couple and heading toward the shoes.(kelsey)
A smile towards all the confusion and conversation going on."This is the most business I have had the entire time I've been open."
Ringing up Aisling's purchase before folding the dress neatly to place in a bag after giving the girl the total.
"Check in often, always new things coming through the door."
(aisling)
Smiling, she pulls the dress back out of the bag and pushes it towards Kelsey. "Gotta do our part for Mother Earth no? Gaia needs all the help she can get," she adds, glancing sidelong towards the one emanating that oh-so familiar feeling.(spencer)
Striding toward the Nearly New shop, he pauses outside the door, to glance in the window. To be sure it is open of course. The movement of people within, and the glare of lights beyond the window, suggest of course that it is, and so he steps toward the door, and pushes his way into the cozy second hand shop. Second hand everything for Spencer here. Better to hang a pair of some other mans pants on his skinny waist than to toss them into a landfill somewhere. Inside the store, he scans the area for a rack of predominately mens clothing. Dresses just won't cut it.(Kelsey)
Returning Aisling's smile while folding the bag to place under the counter."Thank you."
(nelly)
"Midori?" a quip of brow and another resounding laughter shakes her shoulders, "Damn, ya need t'get the boy mounted sugahbee. Can't think raight when ya all bottled up down low," shaking her head as the laugh settles to a chuckle. She moved on as well, to another rack of tshirts, her gaze sweeping towards the Purebreed waifing from the dark haired beauty of a shopkeeper, "Don't happen t'have any cowboy boots do ya sugah? Black ones?" the last being completely ruined from the sewer swim not long ago, "Ah think ya should let Trey have a go at makin one Butta..." calling out an addition.(leroy)
"Oooo" A finger rose to press upon his lower lip. Stepping back. This was James' time to escape should he take it whilst LeRoy pondered the possibilities of many rewards and contests wrapped up in one. Queen of Chaffing! Queen of the Blue! (that'll be bruising), Queen of the grin! Snapping his fingers "Kemp will cum n his pants" Laughing. "Which.." Canting his head "is another contest in and of itself..can he wrestle these two fine lasses I found for em without..and I dare say without letting his woody start rising out? My bucks on m'wee cousin..if her bossom bod can't cause ya to snap to attention..I'll be a blind man n'aye den of sin"(kelsey)
"Welcome, come in and look around. If you need help or have questions, just yell."Calling out to the new arrival as Spencer enters the shop. Racks and shelves of clothing, shoes, knic knacks, books, odds and ends. Towards the back a sparse scattering of furniture.
(leroy)
His gaze swivels to the mention of Gaia. The voice was soft and yet unknown to him. Upon Aisling did they find rest and conviction. A cant of his head in questioning, an elbow into James. "Hey..ya kno er?"(spencer)
Spencer is a handsome enough youth, with a hint of stubble on his cheeks and chin, though it is little more than peach fuzz. He can't be more than 18 by the look of him, his features are too youthful, they haven't yet taken on the wear of years. He glances toward Kelsey, his bright blue eyes catching the light to lend them a twinkle as he smiles, and nods in her direction. It isn't like she could look through the stock and find a pair of pants in a certain style for him, but its nice when people take pleasure in their jobs. So he won't silently mock her exuberance. Much. Spotting a rack of jeans, he steps toward it as he lets his gaze drift over the other patrons of the store. A popular place. For a second hand clothing store. On a Friday night. If this is Chicago night life, give me Toronto any day.(tris)
He laughs and shakes his head, though James gets a sidelong look at those comments, and a brow lifts, shaking his head. And he says that Tristan is the dawg. Puhlease. “Well Nelly, he’s slowly getting over his hatred of women, greatly helped by ya’ll. Sooner or later he’ll be ready to taste the waters again.” She moves off, and he grabs a pair of shoes, some socks and a pair of shorts before moving toward the counter and Kelsey again. “There, that’ll keep him for a while...”(nelly)
Her head turned towards the gal going for the doorway, "Hey sugah, hold up a sec..." dancing around a rack, and the new face guy walking in to catch up with her, "Ah gotta question... if ya got tahm.." smiling sweetly with a glance towards the shoe rack. She actually had the cowboy boots. I love this shop!(asiling)
"Oh!" She blinks, turning to ask Kelsey a question just as Nelly calls out to her. She flashes the other a sweet smile and nods. "'Course. I've always got time. 'Sup?" Her red head cants to oneside, copper curls tumbling over her shoulder and spilling pleasingly across her cheek.(james)
"Bro...." dreads scrape over his shoulders as James shakes his head, hand on LeRoy's shoulder leveraging him up to enable a semi-sly response towards the other Garou's ear "Kemp'll blow long 'fore th' wres'lin' start'."there's a firm slap on the broad expanse of muscle creating LeRoy's shoulder
then the Ahroun is slipping past in the slender escape provided
even if it placed an elbow squarely into muscular abs
(oof)"Nuh.... dunno 'er, but du'y call."
two fingers tap his temple
then the Fostern's weaving through the stacks and shelves towards the door
trademark Eagle nod up to those he passes in farewell((I gotta jet, folks, thanks for the play!))
(tristan)
He looks up and nods toward James (up, of course) as he vacates. “M’Cookin tonight. Don’t be too late, or Kemp won’t leave ya any...” chuckled, before turning back to Kelsey and the counter and his purches.Posted by james at 12:00 AMApril 15, 2004.04.15.04. - down on the corner [tristan][riverfront]
to James Branson: if you are coming here LMAO
Nookie's Lunchbox. Its a Diner. Rumor has it Bee Gees eat for free. Surely Tristan told ya. But just in case you are coming here..here is a quick description of this hole in the wall in Avery Park area
Indeed it was a small diner. One long counter with about eight stools for patrons. On the other side was the visible kitchen. A short order cook's delight, with gas grill and sheet metal skillet. It almost looked akin to a Waffle House's set up. Without the yellow of course. The interior of the place was decorated in plus reverence to both the southern state of Alabama as well as its Dynasty Football Team and University. The walls and seats were covered in bright crimson while etched in new crome accents. Only three booths took up the long side window. At the very back were two doors, one leading to the office and back supply the other to the unisex restroom. Just the one. The tile floor was done in Elephant symbol of the Crimson Tide Team, Paul 'Bear' Bryant picture held the highest esteem. Fielded right behind the register where there were numerous framed black and white photographs of the Knights and their imidiate family. The other pics adorning the walls were of past highlight games in which the Tide favorably won. Only one television up in the back corner so even LeRoy could watch a televised game during the playing seasons while cooking. Definately a sports fan.
(james)
the first thing you hear is the noise
somewhere, just around the corner, seems someone is beating the shit out of some trashcans
and by that conclusion - you'd be rightJames, in an act totally disregarding the traditions of past weeks, has returned to the street
the weather's sixty-eight degrees with a light wind coming in off the southwest
and as the sun's dropped down below the horizon for it's nightly retire
the Veteran Ahroun works to catch the attention of those on their way home from work
he's been there since the first tones of twilight darkened the sky
change clatters against what's already gathered in the overturned tophat
each jingle greeted with a crooked smile or wink of deep umber eyethere's just something about the way he plays
seriously plays
slatboard scraps of wood turned into drumsticks
metal barrels drug from nearby alleys working makeshift kit
bass throb, snare pitch, even a highhat worked into the mix
it's the sound of the ghetto's best, no mere haphazard bangin' around
urban primitive tribe hailing the unknown trashheap gods of yore(tristan)
Several block down, where the sounds don’t tangle, there’s another musician who’s been playing his normal corner. It’s there, that other coins have been gathered and tucked away, it’s there that beloved instrument is tucked into the reinforced case, money tucked into pocket, and it all locked away. There’s a moment’s discussion with a mother passing by, there’s a smile and exchange of numbers after terms have been reached, fingers sliding over the tousled curls of the child in question.And then, long legs carry the pretty boi kin in the opposite direction of the factory, not quite ready to go back there yet. It’s only a block later that he stops. Listens. And direction changes again, in order to follow tribal pounding that can only mean one thing. His brother is his competition for coinage tonight, and there couldn’t possibly be a more welcome one.
He stops nearby, listening from around the corner, as he crouches and reverses the previous movements, unpacking his violin, and lifting it to his shoulder. The case left there, just in sight, he waits... listening, feeling the beat thrum through his very soul... and then – the piercing cry of violin pierces the air... followed by the flurry of still warmed fingertips that follow the beat pounded out before him. Not many could possibly keep up – but he is better then most, and he falls into a medly that matches the thruming tribal beat to perfection as he steps around the corner, and with something almost resembling his normal grin, invades his brother’s beat.
(james)
not many could keep up
not many would dare combine a violin with trashcans
but then... there's the two Bone Gnawer brothers
and somehow. it worksdeep rhythms pour out of the makeshift set
(bone rhythms, but who has to know)
harmonizing backbeat to strung out scales
some of the small crowd are shocked
others follow along as if it were planned
James twists the cadence to match Tristan's skill
then without more than an upward glance
the impromptu song suddenly ends"Tha'ssit f'r t'nigh's show." credited with trademark (lopsided) easy grin and flourished bow "Y' c'n catch's here ev'ry fourth'n sixth Sunday a th' month, sets a mi'nigh'n twel'e am three time a day."
(tristan)
Seamless, no matter how unplanned, and the showmanship that easily follows that glance no one noticed but him, bringing the impromptu duet to a crashing rousing finish. There’s even a bit of a chuckle from the pretty boy at the scheduling of those shows, as he moves to grab his case again, before sinking to a crouch near James, to pack up once again.The crowd disperses, slowing, and there’s the last minute rain of coins until it’s just the two of them there at the corner. He packs up his violin, wiping it down again, though it was only out mere minutes. He cares for it as if it is his baby, after all, the one thing he truly owns. Finally, he looks up at James, and arches a brow. “sorry, couldn’t resist. Been a while since I’ve invaded your corners like that...”
The grin there is actually fond. After all – that’s how he introduced himself, how many years ago?
(james)
thanks are spread among those dropping the last bits of change
handshakes traded for showman's easy smile
then all six feet of him falls to mirroring crouch"Been 'while since I play' a corn'r."
smirked in partial self-reprication before a calculating pause
and half of what poured in after the duet began is scooped aside
dropped in the change pocket of the violin case before Tristan can refuse
and James is rising to return his instruments to their own keeping
cans rolled back into an alley
slatboard sticks shoved back into a dumpster(tristan)
He nods, slightly. “I know.” And he does. There was a while there that he didn’t play either... though needing to feed Kemp drove him back before anything else could have. He doesn’t refuse the toss either, knowing it wouldn’t be accepted even if he voiced it, instead tucking it into the small felt back for that purpose, flipping the locks closed on the case, and standing with a slight grunt.He may have been (forcibly) healed (against his will) but after playing as long as he has today, the muscles ache, complain, and generally voice their discontent with the abuse placed upon them. Hands smooth over side, back belly, gently massaging, before he catches James’ eye again. “Buy you dinner?”
(james)
there's a snort as the Ahroun exits the alley for the last time"Alrea'y askin' f'r a date wh'n we jus' met?"
that might even be a quirked grin forming, there
it must be the crescent moon above
James could not, by all means, be in a good mood(tristan)
That brow arches, slowly, over a wickedly spreading grin.
And yes. That’s a grin.
And after a long moment where dark gaze makes the slow trail over James, dreds to toe to dreds again... he finally comments. “Well, you certainly don’t expect me to let a catch like you run away? Dinner. Dancing. Then, if your really good, we’ll test us a mattress or four...”No matter what? His bro is damn good medicine. He’d been crawling out of some hole since the talk with Erik, the reconnecting with Roxy... this... this may be the last haul up that he needs. (..and no – not the date.. just the reconnect, of course.)
(james)
arms cross over muscular chest
shoulders hitching up under the tied back dreads
sweat's drying across skin exposed by the wifebeater stripped to for his set
and it's raising a chill towards the dark lines formed by the scars on his back
above which a brow most certainly lifts"No drinksss?" the battle-scarred Fullmoon, well, huffs "Har'ly w'rth my time."
(tristan)
He chuckles and just tosses back, right at him. “Tequila. The real shit.” Challenge, of course, as they all know what happened last time these two had Mexican tequila together.... he’s a bottle still stashed, waiting for just such an opportunity...Of course, everyone also knows that while these two Gnawers can eat their weight in food three times a day, they cannot handle their liquor...
(james)
breath shoots out in a scoff
hands occupied by lighting up a smoke
proverbial fire to keep the chill away
scar-latticed back turns to press against a wall"So." pause. inhale. exhale. "If y'r lookin' a gettin' me drunk..... th' fuck y' wantin' food in m' ssstomach a 'sorb it?"
(tristan)
Shoulder finds way to the wall, leaning long form in comfortable slouch next to James, fingers lifting to steal the smoke just lip from his fingers. A long inhale, and he hands it back, slowly exhaling over his other shoulder as he watches the street before them. A slow chuckle... “Ain’t lookin f’nothing, but I’ll take what I can get and you know it.” Teased, softly.Gaze falls to the ground, then around to find worn cochrans, sliding up until catching James’ gaze once more. “Just ain’t seen ya since..” pause. (I almost died. You almost died. I was saved by a fluke and all for something i’ll never see or quite understand and i fell into this hole and couldn’t breath and that bitch reminded me again how very little it is to be just a kin and....) resume. “...well, in a while. And the pickings were good today down the way – got some cash to spare before Kemp’s empty belly takes up the rest of it.” Chuckled, fondly. “But, I’m just as content to lean here and steal your smokes.”
(james)
the dramatic sound effects are exchanged for some far more dangerous
deep growl rattling from his chest as the smoke is stolen
(food is one thing, but Camels are SACRED!)
shot over with the mockery of a challenging glare
cigarette snatched back and cradled protectively
all before the Ahroun breaks his thesad
reaching over to ruffle his hand through Tristan's curls
just as he's sure the kinsman did to a child during his own set
(where you think he picked it up from?)"Th'n y'r lucky I gotta full pack. C'mon." ruffling hand sinks to arm slung around comrade's shoulders as James pulls them both off the wall and in some direction that smells like food "Y'owe me dinn'r."
(tristan)
Ooooooooooooohboy. And that Growl. Now, we all know how –that- effects him, don’t we. But he is a showman as well, and pulls off the mock frightened (....it’s not fright that weakens the knees, that makes the belly flutter...) look as smoke is snatched away again, and then there’s a soft chuckle as he leans into the affectionate carress through curls.Which yes, he did do down the way. She was cute, maybe 5 or 6, wanting to play more then anything in the world. Who could resist?
Then he switches hands, violin sliding to the other as one slides around James’ waist and he heads them off in direction of food. “Yessir. Right away sir. Been to Nookie’s yet?” Won’t tell him the foods free there for Gnawers – that would ruin the fun....
(james)
[impromptu pause]
Posted by james at 12:00 AMApril 14, 2004.04.11.04. - brothers in arms [leroy-kemp][unicorn pack home - forums]
(leroy)
Naturally, timing was everything. Thus, in advanced he prepared. Finishing by annoucing his invitation for only Kemp Oates and James Branson to visit he. Where? At the Pack house of the Black Unicorns. When? A night in which everyone was out. Why? Because...its suppose to be personal and secret you twit!Perhaps it was both Kemp's and James first time within the lofty three story home, being so, naturally the euporic effects of the Fetish Hearthstone, mimicing the blissfullness of a Caern's center and bawn effected them strangly at first. If it did..LeRoy paid no notice.
"I've called you both here today to crison our new faternity. A Faternity of Battle Brotherhood. You inquired about mascots..well...to honor both your own and mine...we've combined them...to make our own. From hence..we shall be known as the League of Extraordinary SwampMonkeys!" Holding up to be recognized by both James and Kemp, a smile on LeRoy's face was so bright, its warmth was almost blinding to witness. The Hockey Jersey's embolym was the representation, roughly sewn of course of a cross-breed between Eagle and a Black Unicorn. "Behold! Our Faternity Totem! The SwampMonkey! Shall we begin?" Glancing between James and Kemp. Surely they had no idea what LeRoy was up to..or maybe they did?
(kemp)
He'd never been to the house before. Infact, he'd never been in such a big fancy looking house before. Everything he'd ever lived, stayed or been in had been single story or an apartment. Looking around with open curiosity at everything he could spot on entering the house with a wide grin. No idea why the place felt the way it did, but it made him relax his guard with an easy smile."What the heck is this all about anyway?"
Snickering with a look to the name Extraordinary Swampmonkeys. "Ok, this isn't something where ya have to sit around bare assed and drink some nasty shit, is it?"
(leroy)
"About?..." Incredulous blink. Once, twice..never a third as his gaze swept sharply upon Kemp. "...is it not so obvious?!" He suddenly shouted. Anger...or so it seemed poured from his raised vocals. Though incredibly, that smile wanned back over his lips before the chuckle of amusement escaped them. "Naw Gee...Its a brotherhood of liake minded blokes. I.E. Us" Shaking his fist somewhat "..Who by the graces of Gaia..not to mention our own incredulious fury born passion of battle..aint we the shiet?" Winking at Kemp once before continuing. "...join together beyond the protective skirts of our most esteemed Totems in a bond of friendship created by our shared experience of Carnage....All in Gaia's name of course" Again chuckling "A fraternity! Of Ahrouns..oooops..and New Moons" Winking once again with a playfulness upon his lips at Kemp. "Who dedicated ourselves to the defense of this Caern as a specialized tactical force...our symbol..since we must honor both our esteemed Totems..should be non-other than its combination as only Gaia and the Wyld would have it...from hence..SwampMonkey" Chuckling and elbowing James' in the rib "An eagle with a horse's neck and a Unicorn's horn...aint that nifty?" Swinging his gaze back to Kemp. "We championing this new force bound by our shared efforts..and parties to come..we'll discuss those momentarily....KY Jelly and some Kinfolk come to mind..but I degress..." Grinning wider as he checked the time on his wrist watch. Constantly vigil about keeping the birth of this 'faternity' as secret as possible from his room-mates till it becomes offical. "....We shall be the Captains..and only those who fiaght by our sides at least twice and live..may be considered able of both body and mind to join! What say you?..Or do you need me to explain more my little brother?"(kemp)
Leaning back some with LeRoy's actions, for a moment worried he was going to lean in too close Though a smile echoed on his face the more he listened. Wondering what James thought of all this. His mind racing until coming to a screeching halt with the mention of parties, K-Y jelly and Kinfolk."Wait, you said K-Y jelly and Kinfolk?"
A widening smile flashing across his face.
"Ok, I'm in!"
(james)
Ask, and ye shall receive.James should have known better than to mouth off at the caern meeting
but sometimes you just can't keep a Gnawer's sense of humor down
even if it has the penchance for whipping around and biting one's own ass
(....scrappy little bastards, those Gnawers)the Ahroun had never been to the Black Unicorn's digs before, and it shows
within the lofty, three story home he's quite affected by the euphoric bliss of the Hearthstone
not to mention the sheer wealth of the place
other than the condo in Newark, he too had lived in little more than run-down holes in the wall
if, of course, he even had a roof over his head to begin with
but as the great, dark-skinned Garou begins to speak
he forgets about that quite quickly
a brow most certainly lifting as the explanation ensues
then?James LAUGHS
it's a strange sound, really
because it's something so rarely heard in the last year
the full-throated, full-hearted, rolling music of laughter
something born in the very depths of the Fostern's soul
accompanied by one bright and beaming Kool-Aid grin"'m in, too, broth'r." that ear-to-ear grin just never quits, one hand reaching out to clap LeRoy on the shoulder, then reach and settle on Kemp's to complete the newly fledged circle of the League "Let i' be know' 'cross th' street' a Ch'cago all th' way a th' breath've th' spirit worl's.... t'nigh' we 'fficialize'r bon's a frien'ship 'n ded'cation t'war's th' glory'n success a battle."
between the slur and continuing laughter
that may have been English
but a street-performer raised and bred
James wasn't about to let the impact of the moment wane[in progress]
Posted by james at 08:23 PMApril 05, 2004.04.05.04. - top dawg [city gnawers][riverfront, mcdonald's]
(jim larson)
Jim sat in a booth at the McDonalds munching on some french fries and a Big Mac, sipping a large coke, he waited in the very back, the fast food resturaunt was pretty empty today.(yuliya)
One could wonder how Yulya hears anything [she hears everything....] but sure enough she comes striding into the fast food place with an expressionless face, that heavy leather jasket she always wore covering over her torso in anonymous weight. Black jeans, sturdy boots, pale face framed in wild lanky dark hair. She's one who has been little seen by the Garou of late, except Katya... lovely svelte Katya who had left her an apartment without word one day.Don't you just hate that?
Dark eyes catching on Jim and to Jim she went. She didn't feel like whatever roadkill was on the menu today.
(jim)
Jim looked up and faintly recognized her, he absently thought "Wasn't she one of sputnik's kin?" he looks up at her and nods guesturing to the seat and offering a few fries without much word.(yuli)
Slid easily into the seat opposite him, a few fries snagged at the silent offer. She says little, shoulders moving some to adjust to sitting. He could only imagine what was under the jacket... if anything. The only adornment, and t minor, was a small gold locket around ehr neck. It seemed so strangely out of place on the hard bitten kin girl.
"Did I miss meeting, or did arrive early?"(jim)
jim looked at her and shook his head looking back to the bulk of the resturaunt "Early."(james)
tonight - the moon is accepted as full
luckily, this particular Mccy D's is already particularly empty
else the appearence of one dreadlocked raggedyman would make it so
damn quicklyhe chooses the booth just behind Jim and Yuliya
sliding in until his back is to the wall(yuli)
"Get soda then.."
And she does just that, peeling some crisp bills form her pocket as she gathers a cup from the counter and pays the bored employe behind. Filling it she sat and gave James a nod of the head.
"I see still kicking James.."
The face cracks into a smirk... last time she saw him was on the bad end of a Kung Pao chicken fest.(harold alder)
~Harold come into the McDonalds a bit late but thats what happens from time to time when your talking with a spirit you lose track of time. Harold is dressed as always jeans a shirt and his multi colored poncho and his back back slung over his shoulder. Its hard to change your style when you have two sets of clothes. He looks around trying to spot any one when he spies Jim and Hal heads over after buying a big mac meal~ Any of you guys hungry? ~He says to Jim and those assembled~(jim
Jim nods up to james and continues picking at his fries "Not sure how many more're gonna show i think only hal's left, and speak of the devil" Nod up to hal "Nah i'm good" he points to the burger and fries he was picking at. "But i'm not gonna speak fer the others."(james)
"S'm'thin' li'e tha', Yuli."cracked smirk met with rogue wink
he hasn't forgotten the event, either
Eagle trait nod up handed out in greeting
then attention swings to Adler"If y'r off'rin'..."
(yuli)
She just holds up the few fries of Jim's she was slowly chewing on, not apparently very hungry but Mickie D's made the best damned fries. Sip of cola and she waited, lounging back in her seat with a lithe ease.
"Nyet... Jim fries fine."(jim)
Jim waited till they got settled taking a few bites of his burger and waiting for the others to get situated gnawers were nothing if not informal.(harold)
"I am what can I get you?" ~He looks at James. He then turns and nods to Yuliya~ ~Russian~ Ahhh I do remember you Siberia isn't it?(yuli)
"Da... we met on street... vodka run."
That same smirk. She's less cold and bitchy now... but its been months since Sputnik died and she'd reconciled with Una. Healing was progressing finally in spirit.(james)
"Coupl'a qua'r poun'ers, cheese, 'n' a lar' fries'n co'e."brow lifts in query of Harold needing that slowed down and translated
the thick Yank accent deeply slurred by battlescarred jaw, well...
no doubts there on why James didn't hit the counter himself(harold)
~Russian~"Yes I remember you, you had a nice smell." ~He heads back to the counter and orders James order and then once he has it he sets it in front of James~ There you go.
(jim)
jim leaves part of his burger and some fries on the tray and leans back in the booth so he can take in all of those in attendance "So, Guess we're all here. What's up all?"
(yuli)
"Same shit, different day."
Sometimes even her broken english in that thick Russian accent is easy to manage. Sucking down a healthy gulp of cola and stealing a few more of Jim's fries she chuckled at Hal.
"Da... I shower regualrly. Gives nice smell."( james)
"Thank' man." gratitude nodded and James inhales one entire burger in far fewer bites than is acceptable in anything than true Gnawer style before turning to the question at hand "Same 'here."chin jerks up towards Mr. Buys The Food
"'cep' dunno him."
(harold)
~He sits down and begins to eat his food and between food~ "So what are we here about Jim I have my ideas why we are here but lets hear it from you."(jim)
Jim nods "Might as wells give what passes fer introductions tween us." Jim looks at hal "I'm jim larson digs through trash, Ghetto warrior o' the quick."(harold)
"I am Harold Alder Spirit talker for the Knights pack."
(yuli)
"Yulya Korjevna... I get shit... most you know what kind."
Yah, guns, knives, some few bombs on a rare occasion, cars, and more... that influence was a useful thing. Relaxing in the chair still cheweing through a frenchfry slowly.(james)
"Jame' Brans'n, Fost' Fullmoon a Eagle."(jim)
Jim nods "Now that the hi how are ya's're outta the way i'm guessin y'all wanna know why i called y'all here, since we got ourselves a new home i figgered we'd best show some kinda unified front and all less the higher ups take all the good shit we should have some kinda claim on, first things first, which one will represent our intrests? I know james' prolly the top dawg 'mong us." he gives james a sort og grin.(yuli)
"I think woman logic represent best."
That dark brow lifting with a deapan gaze on the three garou she's sitting with, seemingly nonplussed by the amount of Rage beating aganst her.A few loooooong moments and she chews up the rest of her fries.
"Kidding... is joke, da?"
Laughs a bit.(james)
a (forever) lopsided grin counters the one offered
yeh, he's highest ranked allright
but there's been reason for his silence at other meetings"Go'n."
(jim)
Jim nods to james "Well since we're usually the more reasonable of the groups where this sort of thing comes along Y'all want tah go for rank or put it tah a vote? After we figure out who's gonna represent us we can figure out what exactly we all want from this, and what's fair for us tah claim, you know how it is. I'm still low man on the totem pole and still learning but as it seems we're the only ones representing our intrests guess we're gonna need tah decide."(james)
"Wh' we wan' is one thin'." this is slowed down to make sure he speaks clearly, no totemphone to help out among this bunch "S'who the res' of th' council g'nna lis'en to."(harold)
"There in lies the problem James, were not even sure who is going to be on the council. As far as who they will listen too. Who honestly knows."(yuli)
"Jim call much meeting all attend... "
Maybe thats her vote, it does seem to be a favorable opinon, not that all three weren't at least more then toelrated in ehr eyes. That said volumes right there.(james)
"'zac'ly." muscular shoulders roll in a shrug and nod towards Harold "Though'r plan c'n be change' lat'r if't dun look 'ffective once't all fig'red out by th' res'."not like Gnawers haven't adapted to social changes before
(jim)
Jim nods at james' point "Good point. Whoever speaks fer us has gotta be someone not only we can respect but ain't gonna cause the shaft from the higher ups. James here'd get respect cuza status but shit i dunno, I'd tak it if no one else wants it or feels they got a bigger claim'n me. I called y'all here tah see where we all stood."(yuli)
Shoulders lifting in a shrug for the poltcal shit she's really not much concerned with. She told Una she was like a cockroach... all hell breaks loose and she's still there afterwards. Tenacious like that...
"Does matter? All good choice far as I know."(harold)
"Well I doubt I will be wanting the spot myself so I think the choice is either Jim or James."(james)
Yuliya gets pointed to with a french fry
then deep umber eyes glance to Jim
there's an element of resignation there"Ain't partic'ly wh't I wan'ed f'r Chris'm's...." and that's pretty obvious ".... but rank 'n rep tend'a be lis'n to more, cuz we dunna wh'at bias we're g'nna have t' get pas' t ev'n be lis'n to."
(yuli)
She leans towards James and takes a bite of said pointed french fry with a smirk.
"No point if don't plan use..."(harold)
"Agreed I think as usual our biggest problem is going to be the Fangs and Lords. I have yet to meet eiether one of those tribes I can tolerate for more then thirty seconds.. But then again whats new about that" ~He chuckles~(jim)
Jim just sits back and listens to all sides. "I figger we all want what's best fer all o us and what we're all fightin tah protect right? Fangs an' lords're pretty hard tah handle but s'long as yah jes pat em on the head and let them think they're winning they're not so bad, that's the trick y'know. only so much shit one guy can suck up before he explodes."(yuli)
Hal gets a bit of a long emasured look, considering it was a Lord who bled for the Crows in trying to save Sputnik and who helped save her sister. A Lord who helped her heal afterwards... and who recently left her set up in a good safe apartment after the frequently attacked hidey holes she'd been living in.
"I no problem with Lord... not all bad as some, Hal... prejudice no good."(harold)
~He looks at Yu~ Well to each their own I have yet to meet a Lord in this city worth the trouble."(james)
lips curl in a mock snarl
teeth bared at Yuli infront of a low - chuckling - growl
more in response to the other's opinions than her audacity at stealing his food
packing with a bunch of pissy Get
sometimes you forget what it's like to be around your own Tribe
and those with an outward sense of humor"Jus' cause we make'm think we got a lead'r 'n rep' dun mean we gotta foll'w it behin' th' scene, eith'r."
(jim)
jim looks to yulya and shrugs "I take em on a one by one basis, best tah assume they're gonna try and fenaggle something, just tah keep yah on yer toes, but" he shrugs "Best rule of thmb i take is don't deal with the fangs or lords less yah have to."(yuli)
Shrug given Hal and she resumes her easy lounge, draining off the last of her cola. Would ahev tasted better with a 'kick' but for some reason Mickie D's hadn't figured that out yet. James give a smirk and feigned shiver for his growl and low laughter ensued.Yes she's been a lot less pissy as time went on. Cold at times, but this was family.
(harold)
"Like I said the choices are simple Jim or James. Which of you two would be best for the job?"(jim)
Jim leaned back and sucked on a tooth watching the rest of the resturaunt for signed they were in danger of being eavesdropped on by those who shouldn;t be hearing this kind of stuff though they'd all taken pains to remain vague and use gnawer slang and code. he looks to harold "Why don't we put it tah a vote, push comes tah shove i'll concede tah higher status."(yuli)
"I think both you should wrestle... in mud."
Oh my did she just say that... that smirk ever present as she picks fun at them.
"Winner take seat and I get good show."(jim)
jim smirked at yuliya "Would the winner get a gold cup and a kiss on the cheek presented by yah in a bikini?" a wry smirk.(james)
James almost spits out his coke laughing
it is a meticulous act of press lips together and swallow that saves him
and once he's free and clear to speak again.."Wha'.... jus' a kiss? 'spect a leas' a strip tease f'r th' eff'rt."
(harold)
"I have a diffrent idea. Since I do not know James. You two should list qualities and faults of each other and then we will decide. I wish to know at least a bit of both contenders before I decide."(yuli)
"I wore bikini for Sputnik... once."
For Christmas... th ill fated photos she'd lost when the wyrm had torn asunder her first apartment...
"And I knew him years... you I know... what? Months?"
She glances at Hal, the only serious one it would seem and nodded. Its not often she can relax even a little.(jim)
Jim chuckles at james "I could go fer that too." He turns back and nods to hal and shrugs "That's a decent Idea." He looks to james "Whatcha say?"(yuli)
Hands cup her breasts adn lift them... noticable cleavage showing but nothing indecent in public... snd smirks more.
"If this all it take, I take over with good pair breasts."
Cocky tonals in Russian and settles back in seat, to listen to them debate who was best.(james)
at first there's a soft chuckle and helpless shrug
(heartbroken but not dead, dammit)
then the Ahroun gets back to business"Fair 'nuff. Go 'head."
(harold)
"Can I try and get a quarter in between those.. I mean if your gonna flaunt them we might as well trying making a wish" ~He chuckles~(yuli)
"Not needing that hand Hal?"
Deadpan serious herself and the glimmer of colder depths peeking. She wasn't carrying the silver, but it didn't make her any less capable typically.
Then smirk reaapears and she listens to business... so far poking fun or making opinions known wherever she wished.(harold)
"I can get it back eventually. It may be worth it" ~chuckles~(jim)
Jim nods, a smirk chuckle and slight oggle at yulia then he seems to seriously ponder james for a moment. "Alright, Well fer assets, he's a damned good fighter, seen it and heard bout it. he's got the rank, He's got a solid head on his shoulders and tends tah think b'fore he acts from what I seen. Good Solid guy, decent sense of humor. Quiet though, And speech ain't zacktly his string suit, like i got room tah talk right?" a chuckle "Seems tah be well respected though, even if he hangs out with a buncha get. "Another smirk." He could be a good leader i think. I know i could respect'm" it was honest, he wasn't trying to stack the deck against himself "Only major problem is the speech thing, most've us and those who've met him and talktah him fer a while could understand it but young ones and newbies and those that haven't had time tah know him might see it as weakness."(james)
"Leas' th' scar keep me fr'm ram'lin' on li'e tha' Fang."if anything, the misaligned bone keeps James concise
hard to orate like the formally educated when you sound like a drunk
well aware of the impediment it causes
(stupid fucking treasonous Silver Fang)
at least he's able to make fun of himself for itand after the other speech has ended
James levels a discerning glance on the other Gnawer"C'n say much th' same 'bout Jim. We're both fullmoon. Stree'wise. Cog'nizan'. Think'rs much's fight'rs save his pack built f'r recon 'n mine's f'r war." expression flashes a cavalier (lopsided) grin "Only pro'l'm I'd see w'th'm as rep 'zat he dun got th' rank'r previo's exper'ence w'th'a council that I do."
(yuli)
"Want for me to flip coin?"
This lobbying was sounding more and more like an election adn it was dull.
"You talk pretty like politician... where intern with kneepad?"
Looking around with a smirk, pointed in her verbal statements.(harold)
Jim grins at yuliya "Yah volunteerin?" His tone let on it was just teasing.(yuli)
Snorts a throaty laugh.
"I no office girl... I lead... my own people... they would where kneepad for me, not other way round."(jim)
Jim just chuckles and sits back to get the final decision.(harold)
"Well I have to vote for James if he has the experience in previous councils and hopefuly it was good experience he should take our voice to the council."(jim)
Jim nods to hal and looks to yuliya, far as most gnawers were concerned their kinfolk deserved a chance to vote too.(yuli)
"Well he no hold Kung Pao chcken wel, but James good... so no bikini for you Jim."
That same smirk and chuckling as she reached over to steal a fry off James' table.(james)
the Ahroun nods and his eyes, too, look to Yuli
were Tristan and Dustin here, he'd offer them a vote
James considers most kinfolk as equals instead of breeding fodder
much less anything that's a substandard creature"Hop'f'lly there won't be any at meetin's" smirked to the woman before turning to Jim "N'you?"
yeh, Jim gets his say as well
(jim)
Jim chuckles and nods "Works for me." He looks to yuliya and smirks a bit then lookks to james "Well the masses have spoken, I agree, and hell not like i'm signin away muh soul, if yah ever start tah fail in yer task i'll be sure tah challenge for it." A glimmer of mirth in his eye as he offered a slightly grimy hand to james. "Well done."(james)
"Deal." slightly grimy hand taken in calloused one for congratulatory shake "Still g'nna make use a you f'r callin' 's t'gether."appreciation for Jim's actions at hand
then a switchover for what they were really called here for"Wi' that out th' way...."
brows lift to the others
they may be informal, at best
but he hasn't forgotten their reason for gathering(yuli)
"We drink?"
Because obviously she's forgotten why exactly they got called together. Hands digging in her jacket for sigarettes now...needed a nic fix.(harold)
"At this moment of time I have no idea what the tribes wishes are."(james)
muscular shoulders roll in a shrug
even if it acts as an agreeable nod"Me neith'r.... think 't's mos'ly t' not be look over'n lef' out 'a thing' get set'up roun' here."
(yuli)
"I cool with things..."
No gripes for once. It had been relatively quiet... well except for that emu incident... but otherwise.
"Which remind... want emu steak? I have too much at apartment."(james)
emu... steak....?
a moment's perplexion crosses his features
then there's a nod"Sure.... c'n convince Deck'r i's g'rmet 'r s'mthin'"."
(harold)
"No thanks if we are done here I should be off was nice meeting you James."(james)
"Yeh, thin' we're done.... g'nna fin' my kin 'n see what's up wi' them. Y'll hear anythin' up ov'r the chain."(yuli)
"Taste like chicken Hal... you miss out."
The smirk is a grin [shit eating even] as she nods to James, scootng for the eedge of her seat. She needed that cigaretta still.
"Come by my place... I hook you up."
There's a story there no doubt if anyone's brave enough to ask.
"Need go now though... smoke cig, arrange business deals."[end]
Posted by james at 12:00 AM