Danicka parks her car and steps out, wearing not a summer dress and flats this time but dark-washed jeans and a rose-colored sweater, her hair straightened and lying flat on her shoulders. She goes to the trunk to get out three boxes anyone living at the Brotherhood has seen before, and sets them on the hood of the car in order to go back and shut the trunk. She has a purse; she leaves it in the car. She picks up the boxes again, heads towards the clearing, and upon reaching the play area starts skirting the long way around to go to the food tables with her kolace, as far out of the way of the football players as possible.
[Joss Lehrer] She laughs softly. "So it would seem." She watches as Thomas head their direction, her blue eyes flicking once to Decker and Drew, then back to Thomas as he seeks out a blue cooler with wheels - conveniently next to them.
Next to Imogen's pure breeding that declares her part of a tribe she no longer claims (if it could be said that she claims anything or anyone at all), Joss's is overshadowed - but there. Enough to speak of her heritage, of the blood of Warriors under her skin.
When Thomas has closed the distance enough, she lifts her chin in hello. "Evening."
[Wendy Berber] Yeah.. things..kinda got in the way. Should we talk to her, um, later tonight? Or will everyone be all.. drunk? *Wendy takes a bite of hotdog and chews, jerking a little as Joey throws down a bunnyhug and orders her to watch it. Wendy's brow furrows a moment, before she goes back to eating, watching people gather.*
Lotsa pe-*Decker yells FOOTBALL and Wendy starts choking. Whether its the press of rage or the sudden shout that has her doing it is no matter. What matters suddenly is glorious non hotdog air.*
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] Chanlyeya heard Football get yelled out and was curious. Popping the last bit of pastry in his mouth, he made his way over to the play area, soda in hand, to see what this game was about.
[Boy] His attention shoots over to Joey's tossed hoodie, and then to Joey's call for play. His lips pursed and he looked around, wondering who else would join in.
"I think...yeah, I think you should move."
[Hatchet] Hatchet looks at Curata, and then... he looks at Joss. His head tips to the side, and still carrying his guitar, he walks over to the Theurge. "Gossamer Wing," he says, almost cheerfully. "A word?"
[Jeremiah McNamara] Sounds envelope her, buffeting lightly against her ear drums, each one so many moths playing touch-and-go with a light. She usually avoids crowds for just this reason. Some of the blind manage it better than others, but for her part its always been a bit of a struggle which may account for why the man at her side looks at her with a hint of questioning concern: Sure you're up for this?. No words spoken, just the slightest pressure of his hand over hers; communication enough. She chuckles and shrugs, her hand turning to press back and then letting go to stand on her own. It'll be fine.
Charlie approaches - she feels him before he speaks, yes, a bundle of Rage approaching towards her in utter darkness; unnerving. She stiffens ever-so-slightly,barely perceptible. Then he speaks and she relaxes. An earnest smile softens her lips as she turns her head, settling an unseeing gaze on his general vacinity.
FOOTBALL!
She jerks faintly, but recovers quickly. Charlie asks if she's going to stick around,
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be around." There's a hint of humour or fondness or both in the softness of her voice and she nods. "Go have fun... I best get out of the line of fire, myself.."
[Andrew] He follows along after the ball. Tackling... "Right. Hitting." He glances at the newcomers but his predator instincts are starting to give him a bit of tunnel vision. The ball is what matters. Where it goes. Who has it. And who he gets to smash into on the way. He's keeping up with them. His fingers play along the edge of his plain tan t-shirt and he considers taking it off. But... well... sure. It's chilly but fuck it. He peels his shirt off and throws it where Joey threw her hoody.
His head rolls and neck pops. It's shirts vs. skins right? Ha. He scratches an idle itch along one of the numerous scars on his chest and he fixates on the ball.
[Boy] Its swift and firm, the hand that slaps Wendy on the back.
[Thomas] He halts a good six paces from the Food and Refreshments as Joey lifts her voice to the sky and bellows for a good ole fashioned game of American Football. Thomas attention rivets on the young Rotagar, the frown overtaking his features again as the eighteen year old boy in him flushes with a moment's excitement, followed swiftly by the beast rolling over onto all fours, prepared for an Ass whipping (even if he'd only ever seen Football played on a Television a few times when his fathered watched it).
He was frozen for a second as his mind and brought on responsibilities of his role, went in conflict with his desires. Not for the first time at that. A moment long and frozen and he begins to move gain, slower now from the football field edge and on toward the Food table-
-Where Imogen and Joss stand, seemingly waiting for his arrival? He is half-way to opening the cooler when Joss offers a hello-
-And Hatchet steps in with an interruption, before Thomas can reply back. The Skald gives the Philodox a once over, that might be considered displeased, were it not for the reflexive flicker of recognition in both. (Rank)
He doesn't say anything, glancing away from the pair but remaining put, soda in hand. Propriety meant waiting for Joss to finish with Hatchet so he could address her. That didn't mean them speaking was any of his business.
So he watched the Football. Not impassive but...patient.
[Curata] An arc of black eyebrow is drawn up curiously, as he meets Hatchet’s gaze briefly, following the half-moon with his eyes as he goes to the gathering of Fenrir. He lifts up the bottle of beer to his mouth, drinking. It gets swapped out for bits of food he shoves into his mouth, chewing, and then drinking again.
His attention is pulled away by the screaming of “FOOTBALL.” Eyes slid in the direction of the play area, the corners of his mouth lifting up slightly. Charlie was going to get creamed.
[Drew Roscoe] Thomas barely even waited for an answer when Decker spoke up, but instead looked over to the man with the closely shorn haircut and an aura of warlords and battlefields that blazed hotter than the fire at her face and, of all things, stood up and walked away without a word.
Motherfucker..., she thought.
The man looked like he was about to say more after greeting Thomas with a nod and a very predictable 'Sup' before someone bellowed out Football! to those gathered. The monster's head swung toward the call, he took a last swig of the whiskey and stood up, announcing his intent and asking if she was going to come or not.
You fuckin' crazy? she thinks. Lost your goddamn head? Look at me. Look. At. Me. I'm like a breakable chihuahua compared to you guys. Why the hell would I put myself in one of the more physically violent sports involving a game out there with beasts that kill and think nothing of it? Fucking insane, and you lead lunatics!
"Naw, think I'll sit it out." She offered a small quirk of a smile and nodded toward the playing field. "Go on, we'll catch up later."
And so he would. Drew, on the other hand, rolled immediately to her feet as soon as Decker dismissed her and went off to play a game. Sneakers padded quietly, briskly across the grass, to where Thomas stood looking between people then toward the unfurling game of football. She all but shoved into his side when she came to a stop beside him, and snagged a hold of his elbow instead. Not tugging, not making him spill his soda (she was holding the other arm anyways), but grasping because she needed something to squeeze after being so close to Death himself.
"What the fuck was that?? You left me!"
[Wendy Berber] *And so she coughs up a bit of bun and looks at him wide eyed, wiping her mouth as the press of rage gets worse and worse as more people arrive. Scary brow, check, Andrew, check, Decker the glasses destroyer, check. Wendy Berber scrambles to her feet with a nod, gasping.*
Ok. lets go?
[Joss Lehrer] Almost cheerfully. She's not buying it at all. She takes another swallow, and with an apologetic smile toward Thomas, and then a quiet word to Imogen. "If you'll excuse me. I'll be right back."
"Of course, Hatchet." And then, she simple gestures to the side and then leads him a few steps away to talk.
[Hatchet] Food
Joss starts to lead him away, and Hatchet stays where he is. "Here's fine," he says. "Unless you're planning on putting your fist down my throat, in which case we should probably move away from the tables."
[Charlie] She'll be around.
His smile is practically audible when he speaks next. "Yeah, there's food way on the other side of the fire. That's probably the safest spot. See ya!"
With that, the metis hurries back over to the congregating group.
[Decker] Naw, think I'll sit it out.
And Decker, a few paces away, stops. Turns. His eyebrows don't quirk. He just looks at Drew flatly for a moment.
Then: "Naw. Yer playin'. C'mon."
And he crosses the grassy area toward where the players were assembling, raising his hand to indicate he wants in. Then, raising his voice just enough to carry to where Imogen is:
"Woman, you gon' play?"
[Joss Lehrer] She chuckles. "Not today. Not yet, anyway." So she simple gestures for him to continue, as she watches those gathering for the foodball game - laughs at the image of Imogen playing football in THOSE shoes, and then turns her attention back to Hatchet.
[Imogen] Imogen finishes her beer and steps away to put the bottle aside in a trash bag provided. She simply returns to the same ice-box she'd retrieved alcohol from before.
The shouting of football draws her attention, an eyebrow arching slightly. It is an eyebrow that rises ever higher as Decker asks if she's going to play.
"No."
She pitches her voice to carry far enough to reach Decker, then cracks open her beer bottle to take a swallow.
[Hatchet] Not today. Not yet. He lifts his eyebrows slightly, lets them fall again. "Do you find it particularly amusing to threaten other Garou, Joss? I mean... that something you do on a regular basis? Because I want to know what the fuck you were talking about, and this time I don't want to see you flouncing off telling me to figure it out on my own. Tell me what the hell that was about."
[Boy] And scramble they did. Or she did rather. He gathered up Joey's hoodie and followed after her. Slowly. Still. Watching. Football.
[Drew Roscoe] Scratch that. She doesn't even get a chance to find an unlikely, improbable, impossible anchor. Decker stops as she's rolling onto her feet, coke can left abandoned on the ground, watches her for a second, then tells her that no, she is in fact playing football.
The way she stared at him was partly indignant, but mostly bright and quivering-eyed with restrained terror at the prospect of literally being dragged into a game she flat out did not want to play. She swallowed, hard mind you, and shook her head.
"Naw, I don't think so. Don't feel like dying tonight."
[Gina McClaren] *She re-emerges victorious, tambourine held high as she stumbles form the bushes. *
HAA!
*She exclaims to no one in particular.*
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] He watched as others began to gather, standing off on the sidelines and taking occassional drinks of his soda.
[Wendy Berber] *Wendy moves with boy towards the fire, fleeing the press of too many people. She catches her breath once they're well enough away, tilting her head as her mate cranes his around to see the game.*
Boy? Why.. don't you play? I'll be ok.
[Kemp] "Haa yourself? Why you over here and not in the middle of all the shit anyway?"
He snagged Gina by the elbow on his way through the performance area towards the food area. Having arrived fashionably late and not likely to remain long.
"Come on, I see Thomas and Imogen on there. Fuckme, is that the shooter of Garou, in total denial, I hate you, never want to see you again, fuck off, don't tell me shit, I can take you all on because I have a gun, you beat up my boy toy, Drew over there? What the fuck, she got a gun on her?"
[Jeremiah McNamara] The smile heard in Charlie's voice is responded to with a smile of her own, one with undertones of contentment, taking pleasure in the apparent happiness of a old friend who's had it... rough. To put it mildly. He rushes off and she and her cousin make their way across the expanse of field before they become casualties of organized chaos. Their pace is admittedly measured: She's used to navigating this sort of terrain but it is somewhat slow going as she uses the slender customized cane to feel the terrain for pitfalls in the form of roots, dips and any other such perils of spaces unpaved. But with the breeze in her hair and the smell of trees she feels almost at home.
Almost.
Making it over to where the food is set up she convinces the man to go off, drink his shots and join in on the game. "I'll be fine," she assures him. He hesitates... she finds his arm and pushes it lightly. Firmly. Go.
And then... well, then she stands, near the edibles and beverages but not in the way, trying to gather her bearings.
[Decker] No, Decker gets told. Twice. It's the first one that gets him turning around again, a spark in his eyes that wasn't there before. He stares at Drew for a silent moment.
And then he comes back. And stops entirely too close.
Quietly: "Was I axin'?"
[Boy] "I dunno...I'm not sure I can...Are you sure?"
His attention flicked away from the gathering game, to his mate. His expression: Expectant.
[Joss Lehrer] "This from the one who threw a cripple down the stairs for no reason at all? Really, Hatchet, the pots and kettles are all black."
She takes another swallow of her beer, and sighs. "Since you asked so politely, and all - You weren't listening, you spoke to me as if I were twelve, and not equal rank. You HIGHLY insinuated that I was seeking the information in order to horde the glory and honor on my own, which was not what I said at all, and in fact you're suggestion was exactly the same as mine, but that you wanted a meeting to go over no information at all but bits and pieces, and I wanted full stories so that we had something to meet about and actually discuss. You'res makes zero sense. Mine gets results. You are telling me how to do my job, and I won't stand for it - is that clear enough for you? I don't tell you how to run challenges, do I?
"Now if you'll excuse me, this is a fucking party, and I plan to enjoy myself, while making the rounds to speak to those who have dreamed. If you have nothing useful to add, I suggest you enjoy the party as well."
[Thomas] Thomas is watching the Football game beginning to gather and get underway when Hatchet brings about a voice that...well, it flicks his attention 'round to regard the pair of Fosterns, the frown on his features unsubtle and awash with displeasure at the confrontation currently happening.
He doesn't say anything. Not yet. He simply turns, eyes finding Drew facing down Decker with the sort of proximity that doesn't assume much beyond agitation.
"Shit."
[Danicka Musil] Danicka glances over her shoulder at the Garou and Kin who are gathering together to play football, lifting an eyebrow as they start dividing into teams. She keeps going, though, taking the kolace to the tables and starting to set them out. There's an assortment, as usual, from strawberry and blueberry to chocolate to poppyseed. And candied orange. She has no intention of playing football.
She would be broken like a twig just as surely as Wendy, despite the fact that she's not quite as stick thin as the Glass Walker woman.
[Wendy Berber] *Wendy gives a shy smile, eyebrows darting up as she nods, shaggy hair flopping into her eyes. Bony shoulders shrug.*
Yeah. Just ask to play. You'll probably like it. OK? I'll be right here.
[Gina McClaren] *She jerks in surprise as she's hauled towards the food, jello shooters in one hand, tambourine in the other, trundling along best she can along side the impossibly tall rotagar.*
Och fook loves.. see yer feelin better.
*She snerks and jerks her chin to Drew.*
Reckon ah keep waitin fer gunshots. Bloody hell. ... an be careful o touchin me Kemp peaches... ah seem tae recall yer sperm havin super powers. Dinnae wan tae knock a lass up aye? Have a shooter.
[Drew Roscoe] The behemoth that, physically, really wasn't that much bigger than the average man, stopped and turned around to give her the kind of glare that would set a sun ablaze, and not in the smoldering sexual tension way, not remotely. It was the glare of someone entirely too used to getting his way (for good reason), someone who hadn't been told 'no' in quite a long time. The glare of a King denied.
He stalked back to her, got way too close for comfort, close enough that she realized she was about eye level with the upper part of his chest (where with Joe she was eye-level with his sternum, Joe was bigger, broader and taller, yet he seemed positively mild in comparison to this man) and, in a voice too quiet to be as calm as it relayed, he informed her that he wasn't asking. With a question mark at the end, somehow.
She took two half-stumbled steps back when he neared her, grabbed the sleeves of her sweater and pulled them nervously because if she didn't do something with her hands they would fly up to defend her face and she'd feel embarrassed and like she was overplaying the role of the victim. Her voice failed her, curled into a lump and rolled up way too high in her throat. Her chin ducked, her eyes leveled on the Modi's chest instead of venturing anywhere near his face, and she spoke in a voice that was just as low but far less dangerous.
"It's unreasonably dangerous for me to smash around with people that can kill me. I don't run from you guys, y'all try and kill me if I do."
[Boy] He smiles at her widely, stepping forward and giving her a kiss flush on the lips before trotting back to the playing field.
[Imogen] Joss and Hatchet begin to argue behind her - Drew is facing off with Decker. Tension among the Fenrir has ratcheted upward, with Hatchet and Imogen being the Fianna additions - with the former having a genuine claim for the title and the latter refusing it.
Imogen watches Decker and Drew, briefly, before stepping away from the groups entirely, walking toward the performance area, beer in hand.
[Kemp] "No thanks on the sperm shooters."
He shook his head as they approached Imogen and Thomas. Speaking directly to Thomas once there.
"What's she doing here?"
He nodded towards Drew with Decker.
"Last I heard she was all. I hate you! I keeeeel you! Leave me alone! I keeeel you more! I shoot you! Oh and did I mention, I keeeel you if you don't stay away?! Now she's all up in here like she didn't just shoot Joe's fuckin ass what, a week or so ago? I feel sooooo lost."
[Wendy Berber] *Wide eyed, the scrawny glasswalker is kissed in front of everybody and turns as red as the t-shirt she's wearing. She hears Drew's frightened tone through her embarrassed haze, but also feels the rage coming from that side of the fire, and so she wisely chooses to rub her flushed face and poke at the fire with a stick, rather than get involved. Listening.*
[Thomas] Decker and Drew face off and suddenly, Drew stumbles backward and away, the nervous fright of a Doe being timid. His frown turns into a silent snarl before his thoughts have a chance to diminish. The soda is set on top of the cooler, forgotten, as the Skald turns and begins to make his way toward the pair, at near the same moment that Imogen begins making her way toward the performance area.
Kemp is given a brief reply and barely a glance.
"She is failing."
And then he's moving, gaze ignoring Drew in favour of finding Decker.
[Decker] "Dangerous?"
Decker's head tilts on that, a slow animal gesture. His eyes flick over her, and over to the coke.
"Lookit you. I hear all this shit 'boutchoo facin' down Wyrmlin's here, Wyrmlin's there. Then ya dropped yer fuckin' coke 'cause I done talked to ya. Yer 'fraid'a playin' football.
"Yer a fuckin' Fenrir, girl. Git on that fuckin' field. 'fore I drag ya."
And on that note, he turns to head over to the football players, once and for all. His mood seems considerably worse.
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] His attention is turned toward the sudden tension between Decker and Drew. He doesn't move though, interested to see on how this all plays out.
[Drew Roscoe] [WP: We do NOT chew out the Adren Modi.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 9 (Failure at target 6)
[Thomas] (Perception + Emp: Recognize Drew's Intent)
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 4, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Hatchet] For what it's worth, Hatchet listens. The mention of him throwing Michael down the stairs passes by unremarked. He lifts an eyebrow when she says his suggestion made zero sense, but it goes back down again. When she's finished, he holds up a finger.
"A moment. I'm almost done." His hand drops back to his side. "Joss, I asked you if I could make a suggestion, and you said that was fine. If that makes you feel like you're being told how to do your job... then... don't accept suggestions," he says, his brow furrowing in an expression of bewilderment. It clears. "I'm not going to argue with you about what ideas are better. Ultimately it's your call. I trust your judgement, or I wouldn't have declared you the winner of your challenge for eldership. For fuck's sake, Joss, you saved my life twice, why would I knowingly treat you like that?
"Now, here's the thing: I did not intend to insinuate that you were glory-seeking. I did not intend to imply that your method was wrong. It seemed to me that we were saying two different things, so I clarified. Not to disrespect you. Not to insult you. To communicate with you. If it came across as condescending... well. That, again, was not my intention. But threatening me then, and being ...okay, now I'm going to be insulting... a catty little shit now, doesn't make you seem like you know what the fuck respect even is."
He frowns at her again, this time in displeasure, rather than confusion. "Do not ever threaten me like that again."
A smile. It's tight. "Have fun at the party!" he says, with a girlish squeal at the end of the words.
[Kemp] He turned to try and snag Thomas by the back of his collar or whatever with a grunted.
"Wait, this is her turn. Don't throw your ass under the bus till ya tell me why the fuck you're throwing yourself under the fuckin bus for someone that done shot Joe."
[Gina McClaren] They're JELLO..
*She's all jingling bells and clattering tambourine, strider kin hauled along beside Kemp like his own personal sound machine. She finally comes to a stop beside him, laughing merrily. The laughter died on her lips when she sees Thomas's expression as he takes off, Gina looking to where he's headed. Drew. And Decker?! *
Och jaysus.. Fook me.
*And then Hatchet is making noise, his tone not so pleased either. Brown eyes darting to all the angry folk around her, singing softly.*
Aye Thomas peaches.. reckon et'll work etself out en tha wash..aye?
*She extends a hand almost on impulse, offering him a jello shooter.*
[Jeremiah McNamara] ah seem tae recall yer sperm havin super powers
She blinks slightly, a startled half-grin sliding over her lips, a sound of wry amusement slipping from her throat at that bit of overheard conversation. Then she catches the recognized voice of the one of the Brotherhood staffers and turns in that direction, seeking a little guidance to rustle up one of her pork souvlaki's and a bottle of Sam Adam's.
Picking up on the strains of a far less pleasant and lighthearted conversation between a man [Hatchet] and a woman [Joss], both of them radiating Rage to some degree or another, she grimaces slightly and moves further out of the way, guide-cane leading, souvlaki in one hand, unopened beer in the crux of her arm, pressed against one breast.
[Thomas] Thomas let's loose a snarl before he realizes just who has him by the back of the neck. The Skald snaps about, muscles flaring into the tension of hostile response, before his gaze finds Kemp's features and reflexes take over again. He retracts instantly but does not settle, the rapid fire heat of this social situation (Hatchet and Joss, Decker and Drew and now Kemp) seeming to bring the Skald's temper to the surface. Controlled though.
"I'm not throwing myself...." He stops, tongue catching between his teeth, lips folding back and flushing white as they press themselves together. Hard. He flicks his eyes toward Gina's jello shooter, holding there for a moment or two, before his head shakes. Once. Sharply. Returning to Kemp.
"...Because I told the Jarl I would deal with her Teachings." The tension seems to be growing a little more controlled in those coal black eyes. "...Those teachings include the necessity of courtesy."
[Danicka Musil] The kolace set up, Danicka glances at the Fenrir milling about, looks at the enormous field, and decides she has better chances near the football game than over here. Sliding her hands into her pockets, she walks to the edge of the field, grabbing a lawn chair on her way and folding herself into it. Tucking her feet back underneath the chair, she leans back and props her chin on her hand, elbow on the lawnchair's arm, watching what promises to be a rather brutal game. It takes her back. Except for the lack of bleachers.
[Kemp] "And now you would help her teachings by jumping in on her defense?"
His head tilted to the side slightly like a dog that found something odd and was trying to decide if he should bite, sniff or piss on it.
"Why? This would teach her what? That she can depend on someone else to pull her ass out of fires of her own making? That she does not have to be responsible for the shit she throws into the spinning blades of a fan?"
[Wendy Berber] *Wendy brings out a book and begins to read by firelight. The best place for it, all things considered. She glances occasionally towards the garou preparing to play football. Keeping track of Charlie and Boy. *
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] Fenrir would probably be the one tribe he will never understand. Yet oddly, next to Uktena, the closest in ideals. Turning away, he looked around. Everyone seemed to have someone to talk to. Well, all but one.
Chan saw Wendy sitting alone near the fire and makes his way over. He stops just short, watching her read for a moment.
"Mind some company?"
[Katherine Bellamonte] As if the gathering did not already have quite enough kindling to start a fire of every sort, we now add a further two.
Katherine Bellamonte, dressed as casually as she knew how was venturing down the track from the parking lot with a basket beneath one arm; her long legs encased in skin-tight jeans, some off the shoulder blouse in palest white left a tantalizing glimpse of her creamy skin bare and her thick mane of blond tresses had been tied away in a ponytail. The Silver Fang appeared to be conversing in low tones as she approached with a man at her side -- if she was all that was silvery and fair, he was her match in darker shades.
Lukas Wyrmbreaker and Truth's Meridian had arrived.
[Drew Roscoe] Decker sneers at her for being uncomfortable around him, frightened by his presence. This is something he should be used to, didn't anyone else feel that? How he blazed the hot breath of beasts at the lines of war? He mentioned how she faced down Wyrmlings (translates to 'bad guy monsters' in her head, and her jaw sets, her breath catches, and her skin and face flush. Her eyes sting with tears, she can't help it. She's ashamed of the fact that tears well up in her eyes and start trailing their way down her cheeks, but there's nothing she can do to stop it, not in such a pressured, conflicting situation in which she knew she had no ground to stand on, regardless of whether her refusal was justified or not.
"Damnit," she cursed quietly, and wrapped her fists in the tied sleeves of her sweater that were left hanging in front of her pelvis, tight enough that her hands ached for it. She tried biting her tongue, really she did, but she was backed into a corner. Either she relent and go and get physically abused and pressed between and touched by not only perfect strangers (that wasn't the problem, really, the stranger part), but perfectly strange monsters. That or she get manhandled by the man that felt like he was eight feet tall and placed on the playing field by force, where she would be shame-faced, trembling from contact with Decker, crying, and wanting nothing more than to go home, home to Peoria, where at least her dad could keep them at bay.
"Are you kidding? I don't slay monsters, I don't know who's saying what, but they're leaving shit out. I'm defending myself when I have to. Two men tried to rape and kill me and--" she paused to point to Wendy, she'd spotted her somewhere. "her! The other killed Abe, god damnit. I'm not a fighter or a killer, just let me be. Please!"
The poor girl actually shook, not only from emotion and strain, but because she just knew that this man was going to come back and beat her up for saying something that she couldn't swallow down.
[Thomas] "Not her defense!"
It is an outright denial of the accusation, the Skald turning toward Kemp, the look on his face both upset and hostile at once.
"Fear in the nerves and limbs of a Fenrir is akin to the blood on the field, spilled by your brother! A Waste, A shame and a Crime!" Knuckles crack. The Skald's ire is up and flooding the Food area with the heat of Rage. There's no direction for it to go, simply a blast radius that Kemp weathers. Stone in the River.
[Joss Lehrer] "It was not the suggestion. I do not mind suggestions - but when you repeat exact what I said I was doing already, with a minor tweak and an insult to boot, it means you weren't listening. Intended or not, any other Fenrir in here would not have given you notice for an insult like that." She sighs and shakes her head, slightly.
"Do not accuse me of not knowing respect, Hatchet. Not when there are tales and stories that chase your every step, not when I have gained my rank and my place and earned every bit of respect - by understanding exactly what it means. Can I be a catty little shit? Sure. I'll take that - but remember, so can you. You are no one to lecture on respect at all." She finishes off her beer and tosses the empty into a nearby bin.
"But for you, since it hurts your tender little feelings? I won't threaten. Next time I'll just do it." And with that, turns her back and returns to her vacated place near Imogen, by way of the cooler that she swipes another beer from on the way by.
[Kemp] He seemed to shrug off all the rage directed towards him. Infact, one shoulder lifted in a shrug as he met Thomas' gaze without the least bit of difficulty.
"So ya don't think she is good enough to stand responsible for her own deeds? It was ok for her to shoot Joe? It's ok for her to spit on her own? Yet not ok for her to be near Decker? Not to be responsible for whatever spews from her mouth now? I don't get it."
[Danicka Musil] Hearing Drew's outburst, Danicka glances over her shoulder, lifting an eyebrow. She doesn't see Katherine and Lukas across the field yet, her attention drawn to the young Fenrir Kin and the muscle-bound Fenrir trying to drag her to play football. Her face is impassive as Drew talks about not slaying monsters, about nearly getting raped. Her brows don't even draw together.
Eventually she turns around again. Not because no part of her responds to what she hears. Because a stronger part of her responds to who and what Decker is. And there's no way she's going over there.
[Gina McClaren] *Gina winces apologetic, downing the two remaining shooters herself. Fuckit. She tosses the plastic cups in the trash. Frowning slightly as she listens to Kemp and Thomas speak. Not her place to jump in Fenrir affairs any more than she already was... Then Thomas is raging at Kemp, and Gina's mouth opens of its own accord.*
Kemp, Thomas.. Loves. please. Ets ginate be worked out. Ets gintae be fine. ... She'll prove herself oor fall..aye? Nae muddy up yer blood.. Mayhaps.. jes.. have some meat?
*That was the Fenrir way..right? She sure the hell hopes so, voice soft and pleasant and soothing. Oh so soothing. Please no flipping it at the Bonfire.*
[Hatchet] [Willpower]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Wendy Berber] *Wendy looks up, blinking at the native in front of her suddenly. Wow. A native guy. In the flesh even. She rubs her neck nervously and shakes her head.*
Um. No. Not at all. Um... Hey. I'm Wendy.
[Thomas] Thomas scowls, squints and curls his lips and mouth outward as if he were going to respond except...he doesn't seem to quite grasp what Kemp's said. Or more to the point, he doesn't seem to be able to pull it together into a logical thought, much less offer a retort.
He tries. Once. Twice. His head shakes and his hands form gestures too vague to mean anything before the Rotagar and then something like a Jet engine's turbine tears from his throat. Not in Kemp's face or even in the Rotagar's direction. Just a moment of that same impotent frustration that had claimed him his first day in Chicago in that alley.
He turns, fists formed to regard the situation over his shoulder again. The eyes narrowed and the face a mask of...well, Wrath is an old world word. This is close.
"She's Failing..." He repeats. It's the only answer he's got.
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] He moved to sit near, but not too close, to Wendy. He smelled Boy's scent all around her, so he kept a respectable distance when he sat down. His smile was warm, and curtious.
"Nice to meet you, Wendy. I'm Chanlyeya. How are you enjoying the party?"
[Decker] Two men tried to rape and kill me --
There's a flicker in Decker's hurricane eyes. Then he cuts her off. "Git used ta it. 'n quitcher fuckin' whinin'. It ain't gon' keep ya outta danger."
It sure as hell isn't going to keep her out of the football game either. Decker grabs the girl by the arm and rather forcibly propels her toward the football game, calling out to the others --
"'ey, this one's on my fuckin' team."
[Hatchet] As Joss walks away again, Hatchet rolls his eyes up at the sky. He takes a deep breath, exhales, and shakes his head. He doesn't go to get a beer. He goes to get a hot dog.
[Kemp] "Oh yeah, that was effective."
He rolled his eyes, snorting with Thomas' outburst.
"Grab hold of yourself. You are Fenrir, not some pussy whipped dumbass, I hope. She is Fenrir, if she fails it is because she chooses not to listen, not to think, not to BE. Her father is Fenrir Thomas. She comes from our kind. It is not your failure that did not tell her. We have done all but get the water colors out and paint her a fuckin picture. She's thick in the head. She don't listen, she fails. Ain't your doing. And I for one just don't get why you are all up in this shit. Ya in love or lust or what?"
[Wendy Berber] *On the other side of the fire, Drew is yelling and pointing at her, talking about how she nearly got raped. Wendy, now fully in possession of a working jaw and all her teeth, winces, face paling. She swallows and tried to get smaller. Not wanting Decker's attention on her suddenly. Once was enough of a whirlwind experience. She coughs at Chan's question. Nodding. Of course she was enjoying the bonfire. Thats why she was suddenly cringing.*
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] He noticed Wendy's sudden demeanor change, and reached over to touch her arm. There was sudden concern on his face where a warm smile once was.
"What's wrong? You look pale all of a sudden."
[Imogen] Imogen had intended to move to the performance area, perhaps simply to tune her guitar, or perhaps to simply get away from the accumulated rage and tensions of her area. However, Drew flaring at Decker results in Imogen turning and walking toward them.
[Kemp] His brows furrowed slightly as he asked.
"How did she end up here tonight? Did ya bring her and if so, how did ya get her to come when she don't want to have shit to do with us? I clearly remember that part. Yeah."
[Katherine Bellamonte] When she's close enough to take note of what action is occurring, the Silver Fang's pale eyes follow it with acute interest.
"Oh, look, we're just in time for the show."
She croons with a delicate tinkle of laughter, moving toward a table to set her basket down with its trimmed velvet lining. The glossy blond waves settle around the Philodox's shoulders as she sets out a plate and cup, and then removes a container of cleaning wipes and sets these beside her belongings.
[Thomas] "Her Father is Ronin."
That sentence contains more deep down Hatred then anything uttered from the Skald before. It seethes out over his tongue and lips with the sort of viciousness one can't find anywhere else.
"He Failed her when he ran from Fenris. Proved that the faith in the Wolf Jarl was not enough to maintain his place in the Tribe. He took her with him and has bred weakness and fear in the heart of someone who could have been better. Who carries his Blood!" The snap is accompanied by teeth lashing out at the air and spat back out again. He is not being loud, but the oratory is there. The voice of a Speaker. Of a Talesinger.
"I care because a Skald is meant to carry his faith like a Weapon, Truth~rhya. We hold to it that because our Faith is our strongest clutch. It stays the Tribe and it's course. It tells our brothers and sisters what to fight for and you need never question or doubt Fenris' touch when the eyes of a Skald are present to look within..."
A pause, as Kemp asks another question.
"Her mortal mate died recently. She has none left but her Father now and some uncle miles away. Maelstrom is her family and she needs to get used to that, else she is the waste you think she is. If I don't have faith in that, then I am questioning Fenris' choice in her, as her Father did before her..."
And that. Was unthinkable. At least to Thomas.
[Decker] (grapple!)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6) Re-rolls: 2
[Maija] she steps up again, placing a new batch of hot dogs in the tray, fresh from the grill. She deftly consolidates the condiments nearby, making sure the serving utensils are placed where they go, while checking to see that the cold stuff is still cold, the hot stuff is still hot.
She moves near silently, without drawing any undo attention toward herself, without getting in the way. She concentrates on her job - no more, no less. (except so much more, with so much rage so close by)
[Drew Roscoe] [Dodge!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 8, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6) [WP]
[Gina McClaren] *Gina sighs, moving towards the food. A sheepish smile to Hatchet as she makes to get herself a hot dog as well.*
.. There's real meat en the cooler darlin. raw lamb kebabs an' venison. though reckon both need stuck en the fire a time.
*The curvy pikey flicks her gaze to Katherine as she makes comment. Just what they needed. Someone to be glib. A sigh and she looks back to Hatchet.*
[Hatchet] Hatchet pauses with his hand somewhere near the hot dogs, looking down at Gina. Down. She's over a foot smaller than he is. His eyes seem momentarily distracted, faraway, and then focus on her. "Oh come on. You don't think I can eat it raw?"
He glances at Katherine, but neither nods to nor greets the other Philodox. Most of the time it's the best they can do to not lunge at each other in fits of pique, so he leaves it alone. Gina's easier.
In so, so many ways.
He goes to the cooler to get a kebab instead. "Ah. Food on sticks," he says, pulling one out and examining it. "What will they think of next?"
[Kemp] "Naw."
He shook his shaggy head, watching Thomas like a father would a kid that just was thick enough to maybe end up on the short bus.
"Ya don't get it. By holding her little hand right now. By stepping in on her defense against your Jarl. And that is what ya would be doing, besides showing a big ole lack of brain cells and wisdom."
He tapped the side of his head.
"By not letting her fail or stand and only seeing failure, you are failing her yourself. You are not allowing her to make a choice like her old man didn't by not telling her."
[Mackenzie Walsh] The young lawyer had at some point traversed the distance to the bonfire and arrived on her own, her guitar case in hand. She made a point of avoiding the close knit clusters of supernatural folk and instead made a quiet bee-line for the stage area, setting her case down on a stair out of the way and straightening to look over the gathered.
[Jeremiah McNamara] It's clear enough that something is going down, given the conversation of the two Garou males, occasionally spiced with a fantastically feminine voice, curiously accented though it may be. It isn't until the young woman off in the direction of the fire raises her voice that Mia can pick it out and begin to follow that strain of escalating conversation. Her expression darkens - starting off somewhat confused, slipping into grim interest and settling into dark dissaproval. With the guide-cane as her extension - her 'eyes - she seeks out a fallen log to settle down on, enough to finish off the souvlaki and open the bottle of beer.
Perhaps this had, indeed, been a mistake.
[Wendy Berber] *Wendy jerks a little at being touched. A little like a dog beaten too often and people shy. But the stick figure of a kin offers a small sincerely apologetic smile.*
Um.. Just.. had some trouble.. in the park the other day.. Kinda didn't want it um, brought up like that. All. Angry.
*And a topic change with all the delicacy of a rhino in a teacup factory.*
Its ok. Um. are you having a good time?
[Drew Roscoe] Thomas and Kemp debate about whether or not Drew needs a way out, whether or not she should be left to pitch her fit of emotional hysterics with Chicago's Jarl showing her hard.... something. Certainly not love. While they figure this out, the monster in man's skin, the worst of the bunch present, reached out for her. She jumped back away from him, drew her arm up and outward in a slicing motion through the air in front of him, trying to take her arm out of reach while making a sudden motion in his direction at the same time, perhaps to startle his reflexes into pulling back as though he was about to be hit.
Not that it worked... He snagged a hold of her forearm, wrapped fingers impossibly strong around it, and started marching toward the playing field where teams were split and waiting. She dug the heels of her sneakers into the ground and leaned back, pulled, jerked her arm to try and wrench it free of his grasp. She stumbled along after him as he pulled. She fought him every step of the way, but he overpowered her easily. There was no use in fighting, but god damnit she fought.
"No! Please, leave me alone! I don't... I can't... Please...!"
Her breath was failing her, her lungs were seizing up. She grabbed his fingers with her free hand and bit blunt claws into them, tried to pry them up away from her wrist. Her eyes were wild, she was fighting for air, unable to even speak now her breath was racing away from her, along with her heart.
Why did he still insist? Why couldn't he just let go?
[Imogen] "I can't imagine she'll be tha' useful fer yer game now, will she?" Imogen enquires mildly as she approaches, an eyebrow arching.
"If yeh're tha' desperate for a kinfolk t'be utterly unable t'keep up wi' yeh," she leans down removing her shoes and setting them down to step down on the grass, barefoot, "at least I'm not crying."
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] He pulled his hand away when she jerked away from him. He had a caring look to his features, concern over how she was.
"If you need to talk about it, I've been told I'm a great listener." Once more he offered a caring smile. "As for the party, it's not too bad. I really don't know alot of people here, but I thought I would come anyhow. Maybe let people know not all Wendigo are assholes. Excuse my language." He chuckled a bit, trying to lighten the mood.
[Gina McClaren] Took one fook load o' effort tae make those wee "food on stecks" Ah'm thenken next they'll thenk.. foods jes fine wi' oot bein on bloody stecks. Was a fookin bother, et was.
*She teases, flipping her hair behind her back and offering Hatchet a smile.*
How are ye taenecht darlin?
*Gina's eyes drift to the blind woman, her brow furrowing slightly in concern.*
[Danicka Musil] Danicka winces as people crash into each other on the field, shaking her head. She recognizes the scrawny young man and remembers Lukas saying something about the Vaio she left at the Brotherhood contracting a virus. She's just starting to figure out what's going on in this haphazard game when she hears Drew behind her again. She starts to turn, but then sees the white-clad Katherine and the dark-haired Shadow Lord heading from the parking lot towards, well... this general direction.
And as simple enough proof that the pain of others does not make more than passing impact on her, Danicka suddenly smiles. It's not a broad, flashing grin, nor a small, curving thing. It's almost polite, certainly restrained, and drawn across her lips as soon as she sees the two members of the Unbroken Circle. She remains in her chair, hands folded on her lap.
[Jeremiah McNamara] It's the frantic Please that does it. The subsequent sounds of hyperventilating and the frantic agony of emotion you can just taste. With a grimace and a short shake of her head, the tiny, delicate boned woman rises, leaving food items behind and re-extending the guide-cane with quick, practiced motions.
She heads for the voices - the girls frantic, the man, well... mmm... the Garou's enough to explain why she's hesitated this long. But, really.
Enough is enough.
And she's no Fenrir to excuse it.
"Is it common practice here to force Kinfolk? Or is that just for special occasions like Bonfires?" She cannot look at them directly - her face hovers somewhere between Drew and Decker, eyes shifting slowly and without thought. Her voice low but firm. Uncomfortable [unnerved and agitated] but speaking up anyway. "I think it's clear she wants left alone."
[Decker] The girl's quicker than Decker anticipates. She jerks hard on his grip on her arm. He holds on. That'll be a bruise in the morning. And then, to prevent similar occurrences, the Modi -- brutish, thuggish, monstrous creature that he is -- simply picks her up around the middle and throws her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
A weeping, gasping sack of potatoes.
When Imogen approaches, Decker swings around bodily to face her. Drew swings with him. His lip peels back; it's nearly a snarl.
Low, "Stay outta this, 'Gen. This ain't 'bout kin 'n Garou." And he continues to trudge toward the football game, shoving right by Jeremiah.
[Wendy Berber] *A roll of bony shoulders as she relaxes, putting away a book entitled "Ectoplasm and the physical world". She tilts her head with wary curiosity.*
Oh.. you're w-wendigo? um.. My m-mate is Uktena... thats him there. His name is Boy.
*Yes, Boy. She points a spindly finger to the lanky teenager playing on the field.*
[Katherine Bellamonte] Wiping down her fingertips, Katherine was quite entranced by the goings-on of Decker and his Kinswoman. Apparently the manner one settled things if you were a Fenrir was to simply grasp the arm of your sobbing relation and enforce your will upon them.
The Silver Fang was still musing on this as Gina cast her a look, and found even as she looked away that she'd drawn attention to herself. Katherine Bellamonte was studying her with pale blue eyes, quite unmoved by the plight of Drew Roscoe it seemed. Her mouth was curved in a slightly sneering manner and she sat herself daintily on the edge of a seat, eyes on the Strider and pried upon one of her containers, sliding a piece of fruit between her lips.
She paid special care to ignoring Hatchet -- that was in both their interests.
[Joss Lehrer] She moves off to the side, grabs a handful of chips as she walks past the table, then finds a place by the fire, out of the way, and flops comfortably on the ground, watching those around her while she enjoys her beer.
[Thomas] "That's...."
He's about to say backwards to Kemp, that same twist of disgust on his face though milder, as when'd he spoken of the Ronin. It's only halfway through the sentence that he remembers something about Kemp's auspice. Not his Rank but the Moon or lack there of, above them. He clamps down hard on his jaws, narrowing his gaze again as he regards Drew in Decker's grasp. Were this any other tribe it might have seemed hilarious.
Imogen moves in to speak with Decker who has Drew by the ankle. Thomas in turn unclenches his jaw slightly. Jeremiah moves toward the duo, blind girl on the loose and Thomas just stares. Two Adrens with similar thoughts and cause. Design but different execution. She had to learn. Sometime.
But like this?
"...She's Fenrir." It's the last thing he says, watching the Modi sling Drew over his shoulder and head toward the Football game. The tension under his skin is lightning, the vague ripple of...something haunting below, looking for an outlet. An exit.[/color][
"That's...."
He's about to say backwards to Kemp, that same twist of disgust on his face though milder, as when'd he spoken of the Ronin. It's only halfway through the sentence that he remembers something about Kemp's auspice. Not his Rank but the Moon or lack there of, above them. He clamps down hard on his jaws, narrowing his gaze again as he regards Drew in Decker's grasp. Were this any other tribe it might have seemed hilarious.
Imogen moves in to speak with Decker who has Drew by the ankle. Thomas in turn unclenches his jaw slightly. Jeremiah moves toward the duo, blind girl on the loose and Thomas just stares. Two Adrens with similar thoughts and cause. Design but different execution. She had to learn. Sometime.
But like this?
"...She's Fenrir." It's the last thing he says, watching the Modi sling Drew over his shoulder and head toward the Football game. The tension under his skin is lightning, the vague ripple of...something haunting below, looking for an outlet. An exit.
[Imogen] "No," flatly worded, "Seems to be about you provin' tha' yeh can make her do whatever yeh want. Congratulations. Have fun."
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] He got a quick glance at the title, and seemed to smile. Her comment led to a nod.
"I somewhat know Boy, through the moots. His blood is kin of my blood. Cousins of a great distance. I've heard some good things about him as well. Maybe one day we can get together? I am very anxious when it comes to meeting blood kin. I grew up in the woods of far northern Canada. Just a small tribe of true born and kin. We stayed away from civilization so that we could keep the Old Ways."
He made a motion to the book. "You have an interest in spirits?"
[Lukas] Lukas drove.
In his previous-generation M3, going perhaps a little faster than was strictly necessary, he drove out here with Katherine likely fussing over her reflection in the passenger's seat, touching up her mascara, her lipstick, straightening her hems, combing her hair, until finally he cast her a sidelong smirk and commented that he hasn't seen so much preening since Anezka was 16.
Now they're near the food tables, and Katherine is eating out of her own, special, degermified stash while Lukas attacks the heaps of steaming, barbecued meat. When he gathers up a hefty amount, he comes to stand beside his packmate, following her gaze to...
...huh.
He nudges her with his elbow. "Don't get ideas." There's a flicker of humor in his eyes.
[Kemp] "A couple of thoughts here Thomas to wander, rattle and stew in your head while ya go charging off to play Knight in tarnished tin cans in this overblown drama fest you're just dying to throw yourself into. How did she get here? Did someone force her? Drag her? She blindly stumbled into the woods and the gathering? She doesn't have a brain and couldn't figure out what she came to join?"
He shrugged.
"We ain't Pack, you ain't gonna listen to me. You're gonna do what you're gonna do. But consider your own words."
"She is Fenrir."
[Drew Roscoe] Lifting Drew isn't much of a feat, really. She's barely taller than five feet, built slim but firm, the body of a dancer, a gymnast, an athlete. She's light, and goes up easily onto Decker's shoulder, which, needless to say, only hinders her breathing even more. A woman with bright red hair, not the one that Thomas was speaking to before but a different one, stepped forward and calmly addressed the beast. Another with blind wandering eyes and a cane tried to stand up for her, but words blurred together and made incomplete sentences in her ears.
She really couldn't breathe now. She wondered if this was what an asthma attack felt like? Suddenly those ads talking about children describing themselves feeling like 'fish without bowls of water' made a whole lot of sense. She was thrown into something of a genuine panic now, afraid no longer of the football field but of the force of will and strength bearing down upon her, threatening to take her freedom, but more importantly, her life. She barely had enough air to stay conscious, and with nothing calming down she couldn't get her breathing under control.
She grabbed the back of his neck and his shirt, scratching his back in her efforts for grasp. She pulled, kicked her legs to try and swing momentum to throw herself backwards off his shoulder. She tried to hit him with her knee, arched her back and threw her weight downward, hit her forehead into his back in doing so.
Use your words, Drew. Anyone can listen.
I can't fucking breathe!
[Jeremiah McNamara] She gets clipped, but avoid getting bowled over by the simply merit that one doesn't miss hearing and feeling someonething like Decker approaching. All the same, clipped is quite enough, given his size and disregard and her slightness and easily thrown off equilibrium in such occasions. Stumbling back she grunts slightly; staggers and rubs her shoulder... she's turned around a bit, facing more or less away from her intended goal... which is moving away. It takes her a moment to gather her bearings; tilting her ear to follow their beginning passage away.
"That's how it is here, then?" To open air. To anyone. To no one. Her soft voice flat. Disappointed? No. Disgusted. "No one will help her?"
[Thomas] "...She's Fenrir, but she's kin. When she speaks it isn't to be heard by Truebloods unless they choose to listen."
He turns then to stare Kemp in the eye, fists uncurling.
"...If the Jarl wishes to shut me up, he'll shut me up. Until then, I'm a Knight with tin Cans doing stupid things."
And he moved, nodding to Kemp's advice, eyes leveling on Decker and Drew, a resolution in the furrow of his brow.
And with that, The Skald is moving,
[Imogen] "Shut up."
Quiet, low to Jeremiah.
[Mackenzie Walsh] Mackenzie had approached the food tables during the altercation in a quest to find herself a bottle of water. She paused, half straightened as a young woman was cast over a larger man's shoulder and lugged like a rolled up carpet in a direction she seemingly had no desire to venture toward.
Unscrewing the bottle cap, the young lawyer's features knit in consternation as Doctor Slaughter approached the pair, apparently in a bid to rescue the girl from her embarrassment. The lawyer parted her lips to say -- what, precisely? I have several legal reasons why what you're doing counts as abuse? Stop there, fiend? -- she could count the seconds until she was shouted down.
Of course -- the dark eyes flickered to Jeremiah, back to Imogen -- there seemed to be enough champions to the cause here. Mackenzie recapped her bottle and turned her back on it all, walking toward the stage area once again somewhat stiffly.
[Gina McClaren] *Poor Hatchet is suddenly ignored. As is Katherine. Gina's drizzling mustard on a hot dog, piling a paper plate with food, and not paying any attention to what she's doing. There will be mystery food there when she pays it attention next, but now she's moving towards Kemp an Thomas, eyes on the Drew debacle. She jingles as she approaches Kemp, singsonging sadly.*
Thes esnae gintae end well loves...
[Hatchet] Hatchet chuckles at Gina and walks with his kebab over to the flames. He gets there in time to hear Jeremiah, and glances over at her. He knows who she is, even if she's never seen him. He's seen her, or some description of her, in his packmate's mind. He begins to cook his food, and he speaks in her direction.
"She's Kin to Silence's tribe, Mia." He knows her name. "He is not standing there beating the shit out of her. Her own panic is hurting her more than anyone else is. In any case, it's not your concern."
[Kemp] He shrugged calling after Thomas.
"Your call man. Guess I should of let ya eat her the first time, save a hell of a lot of time and trouble, even with the weight on your soul."
He snagged a beer and flopped down on the ground next to Joss.
"Nice night. The air is full of dumbassness. Just look at all the world has to offer at the moment."
And for a moment he looked up at Gina with a shrug.
"There are some things in life ya just can't tell someone. They got to learn by experiencing it first hand."
[Maija] Mackenzie grabs a bottle of water, and from behind the food table where she's working, she actually speaks for the first time today. "Evenin, Ms. Walsh."
[Wendy Berber] *Wendy's eyes skate to Joss, and the Godi gets a nod. She's keeping her eyes off of the fernir kin and decker, looking at her book sadly. She nods again to Chan, tense again. Her lip caught in her teeth as she swallows hard. Trying to ignore what was happening. She whispers.*
I l-l-like the occ-occ-occult. al-l-lot. Sir.
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] He waved a hand quickly. "Please, don't call me sir. I'm not that old." He chuckled.
He was doing his best to avoid looking over at Decker and Drew, let alone get caught up in it. "Then you and I have something in common already. I can talk to spirits." He was trying to get her to relax and smile.
"Look, don't worry about those two. I'm sure Decker-rhya knows what he is doing."
[Katherine Bellamonte] Lukas returns with a plate piled high with steaming meat, and his pack-mate's perfect nostrils pinch together mid-bite of a slice of pineapple. She casts his plate a glance and then the man himself a sharper, ruffled one as if she could not comprehend his desire to eat what was on it when she had fresh, organic fruit and cold meats in her basket.
Food that had not spent minutes sitting abandoned on a grill. Open to the air and the flying pestilence in the air.
She's nudged, and offers a throaty murmur of amusement. "You think this is not the way forward with my own sibling?" She canted her head to one side, watching the young woman dangle over the Modi's shoulder.
"Perhaps," she chimes in lightly, leaning back a little. "They mean to use her as a football."
[Decker] Again Decker wheels on Imogen, who's stopped by now. Who's standing there cool and immovable as stone, as a pillar of salt. He glares at her a second. Rage pulses in the air like a second heartbeat, black and livid.
Then, quite unceremoniously, he tumbles Drew down from his shoulder, leaves her a heap on the ground. "Fuckin' weak." The words are low, nearly spat out. "Y'ain't kin ta me 'til you kin lookit me without spillin' yer drink, burstin' inta tears 'r pissin' yer fuckin' pants."
His eyes flash back to Imogen's, hold a second. Then he raises his voice in a sudden snap, snarling at the sudden crowd of kin and Garou all standing around commentating:
"Show's over. Fuck off."
Turning, the Modi heads for the football game yet again, the sway to his shoulders violent, furious, bullish. He tears his shirt off from the back as he goes, wadding it up and throwing it down at the edge of the playing field.
"Who's fuckin' team'm I on?"
[Gina McClaren] *A resigned sigh as she plops down beside Kemp, offering him food off her plate.*
Well Christ. AH dinnae kain wha we can dae tae fex tha one. reckon mayhaps yer recht. She'll need tae figure et out tha hard way.. aye?
*Drew is dumped in a heap and Gina's first impulse is to rush over, see if she's alright. To sooth, to fix, to mend and comfort. She grits her teeth instead and cracks a piece of celery in half.*
[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine's eyes gleam brightly as the Fenrir tells them all to fuck off.
Her silvery laughter, the delightful peal of wind chimes cuts through the air and she says softly, but with purred satisfaction.
"Bravo, indeed. Such a demonstration."
[Joss Lehrer] Wendy gets a warm smile, but she doesn't approach, she's perfectly content remaining right where she is, stretched out with her feet toward the fire. She leans back on her elbows, and watches those that are nearby, that pass by, that growlsnarlandstomp by. Her gaze flickers and rests on Drew for a long moment, but then move on.
She puts her handful of chips in her lap, and eats them one by one.
[Imogen] Imogen holds Decker's gaze when he looks at her - but there is a small betrayal in her perfect facade. The tendons at her jaw bunch, an outward symptom of her tension. Her back is straight as a pin, her shoulders even. She is nearly a foot shorter than the Modi, and no where near possessing his strength, prowess or rage.
She holds his gaze.
Drew is dumped on the ground and Imogen steps back, bending forward to swoop up her shoes as she does. Decker's eyes meet hers again as she rises - and the motion hitches, slightly as she looks at him.
She completes straightening. A glance downward at the Kinfolk on the ground, whether she is lying there prostrate, or trying to pick herself up, the look is the same - one of well-bred distaste.
She turns on her (bare) heel and walks away.
[Drew Roscoe] Drew tumbled to the ground, but not so ungracefully as most would. This was what she wanted, what she was trying to achieve. She was braced to hit the ground. So soon as her weight slipped (or more, was pushed) backward, she let go of his shirt, quit hitting and scratching and thumping, and caught herself with the palms of her hands in the grass rather than hitting her shoulders or head. Elbows bent, legs tucked, and she rolled back into what could have been a sit if she thought her lungs would have enough room to stretch, to calm in such a position. Instead she moved to her hands and knees, one hand grasping grass, the other holding pressing hard between her breasts, against her hammering heart.
A sound somewhere between a sob and a gag wretched itself from her throat and she leaned forward to rest her heated, flushed forehead in the grass. She wasn't hiding her face, everyone had seen it already. The entire situation was embarrassing, but what the blind woman had uttered was true. Why had no one helped? Was this normal? Acceptable in any fashion?
Breathe. Shh. He doesn't care anymore.
Everyone watched mildly, eating chips, sipping drinks, waiting impatiently on the playing field, faced off, tossing a ball idly. People glared at her as though she was dirt, like she just disrupted a polite and dignified social event with her meaningless hysterics, and she just didn't give a shit.
She was concerned with catching her breath enough that she was certain the world wouldn't cave in black from a severe headrush when she would try to stand up again.
[Wendy Berber] *Wendy offers what might be an attempt at a smile to Chan, before Drew is dumped on the ground. And Wendy is rising to help her. Spindly hands finding her shoulder, rubbing as she swallows twice before speaking*
Um.. Here. .. D-d-deep breaths..
[Kemp] "She ain't broke, ain't no fixing her and I ain't gonna babysit her. She already has one falling all over the fragile flower. It ain't saving. Ain't fixing. Stupid, refusing to listen, learn and try is gonna get her dead. Not by us. Naw, she's gonna believe herself untouchable and it's gonna lead to her getting dead by something else. Because Gaia knows, she is better and someone will come charging in to save her."
He shrugged
[Jeremiah McNamara] A succinct and low Shut Up from another female voice, also somewhat accented, that voice coming from such a distance to indicate that its speaker is more or less Mia's own height. She doesn't seem the least insulted by the command... her face turns in the direction of Imogen's voice, her stance adjusting in kind. She says nothing for a moment, seeming only pensive. She has no real idea of the relationships at work here, but from what little she heard this woman say to the Garou who is moving away with the frantic, hyperventilating kinswoman it would seem that the words come from a knowing source. So she nods. Not cowed, but simply able to see reason.
Even if she's not happy with it.
Anything she might say in return [no, alas, she doesn't take 'shut up' literally here] is quite interrupted when she senses the closeness of another Rage emitting body... one that knows her name, whose voice isn't even remotely Charlies. She startles slightly, her head turning, not as it would with a seeing person, but rather a motion that centers the nearest ear closer in the direction of Hatchet's voice, the lines of her lips pressing slightly. When she speaks it is quietly; reasonably. "I know I'm in the minority with this thought but I'll toss it out anyway: A kinswoman is obviously scared to death and pancing. Who she belongs to," Ah, the sneer with that word. "Is the last thing on my mind."
Decker rumbles, grumbles, proclaims-from-the-mountaintop and deposits the girl in question, audibly... with another grimace, Mia starts to pick her way towards her [Drew, that is], a slow going process given taking care of the nearby fire and uneven ground and people here and there.. but her destination is in mind and when she can hear each of Drew's panting, struggling breaths just in front of her she sets the cane to the side and crouches down. "Don't fight it... your body will handle the breathing, girl, just don't fight it." Quiet. Gentle. But below it, still more than slightly agitated.
[Mackenzie Walsh] "Maija." The brunette Fury turns back, mild surprise on her features at being addressed before it turns to an expression of polite pleasure at seeing the young girl again. "Hello, what a pleasant surprise." She is stepping toward the table, when Drew is dumped on the ground unceremoniously.
Cut to Imogen walking away.
The lawyer untwists the cap of her water bottle, and casts Maija a tight smile. "Pardon me a moment." Then the slight form of the lawyer is navigating her way over to the fallen girl; dropping to her haunches beside her and addressing her quietly, holding out the bottle of water toward her.
"Here, drink some of this. It'll help."
Dark eyes probe her flushed cheeks, the quick breathing.
[Charlie] Charlie comes tearing ass off the field after a tackle, his nose bloody and his clothes dirt-stained. He runs as fast as he can go, considering the fact that he was effectively mauled by the Sept's Adren Modi, until he's reappearing on the other side of the fire near Mia and Hatchet. Panting, he stops to plant his hands on his knees to catch his breath, then spits a bloody wad of saliva into the dirt and stands up straight.
[Hatchet] Out of nowhere, Hatchet stands up suddenly, still holding his mostly-cooked lamb kebab in hand. He looks sharply towards the field. He scans for Charlie, finds him, and apparently loses interest in speaking to Mia. Imogen walks away as two other kinswomen flock to Drew. A bit of juice drips from the kebab. Hatchet takes a bite out of it thoughtlessly, licks his lips afterward, watching his packmate tear ass from the field towards the fire.
As Charlie gets there, panting, Hatchet chews and swallows this first bite of meat, watching the metis thoughtfully. "You're right," he says mildly. "That did kinda make me feel better. Also, I may have pissed off one of your kinswomen. I'm two for two." He takes another bite, chews, swallows again. "Yay me!"
[Gina McClaren] Christ, wha a bloody clusterfuck. Ah feel.. fookin... wretched watchen thes Kemp.
*Gina's voice resounds with frustration and sadness. Pikey's soft features drawn sorrowful.*
... FOOK!
*She tosses her celery stick towards the fire, and tears out a handful of grass.*
[Thomas] The Skald arrives in the vicinity in time for Decker to bellow his Fuck Off. This brings him up short for a moment and only a moment. Then, he continues forward, stopping only a few dozen feet off from the dumped Kin woman. Imogen and Jeremiah both are ignored, a the Skald's gaze rests on Drew.
Sweat stained. Fear soaked. Bruised and thrown. Something familiar about this situation. Memories flicker and-...
-Mackenzie earns herself a stare. Hard and unpleasant.
"No." And then 'round on Drew again.
"Kemp's right." It's the first thing he says as he reaches her, crouching in the grass at six feet, staring at her tear streaked face.
"...Just because your kin doesn't make you susceptible. Doesn't make you weak or tired or fearful. Neither does being Fenrir. That's you. Entirely you and the weakness you had handed to you. It was bred to you..." It might sound like a comfort, if his voice weren't so hard.
"...But the fault's yours to hold. Yours to keep and you're keeping it." Lips threaten to curl. Bitten back. "Clean yourself up. Get back on your feet." He does as well. Back on his feet, turning to make his way toward the edge of the clearing where the woods wait, a bad taste in his mouth that's spat to the ground.
[Imogen] Imogen glances briefly toward Gina at her outburst. Her gaze rests there for several seconds, but what she intends to say never makes it to her mouth.
She turns instead to eye the arrayed alcohol, lifting her half empty beer bottle to drain it to the dregs.
[Maija] She glances up at the fiasco with Decker, and the crowd. He growls that the show is over, he goes play football, and everyone rushes to the girls side.
But not Maija. She does not even let a flicker of any reaction break through the mask she currently wears - the one she shows the public. What happens later, at home? That's a different story.
Ms. Walsh walks away, and Miaja simply gets back to work, looking up only to make sure there's no one that needs her help with food. When their is, she helps as silently as possible.
[Charlie] The grin that splits Charlie's lips is fairly ghastly considering the fact that his face is covered in his own blood, but it's short-lived. He is able to heal in his human skin, unlike the Modi he'd sacked a few moments ago, and so he is able to stand next to his Alpha and wait for his bruises to fade without scaring any of the Kinfolk.
His brow furrows out of confused curiosity, and he asks, sniffing, "Who'd you piss off now?"
[Drew Roscoe] Decker stalked off, Imogen walked away as well, and the blind woman came forward with calm, logical words. Don't fight, she said, your body will remember how to breathe. Just relax, exist, recover. Another, very unfamiliar, offered a bottle of water, told her to drink, it would help. Another told her to take deep breaths and set a hand on her shoulder. Drew's muscles tightened and she dug her fingers into the ground by her head.
"Don't!" she chopped out, "Don't.. touch me."
And then there's Thomas, kneeling beside her amongst the women, telling her her weakness was her own fault, that she chose it. He ordered her to her feet and stomped off without waiting for the result he desired. Her breathing was choked, throat tight, but she did as he said.
Not for him. For her.
She pushed herself up onto her knees, wiped at her face with the palms of both hands, then immediately scrubbed her hands on the thighs of her denim bermuda shorts. She pushed herself onto her feet and, without waiting to make sure she wouldn't fall over or pass out from rising too fast, she brushed her way away from the crowd of Kinwomen gathering about her (a trio wasn't a crowd, sure, but it sure felt like it) and half-walked, half-jogged back toward the parking area.
Fuck this noise.
[Lukas] "No," Lukas says rather mildly, "I don't think that's going to solve your issues with Gabbie. And making her a football definitely won't help."
He snags up a bottle of beer, last. Two, actually. And then, with a mute tilt of his head, he invites Kate to follow him.
Toward Danicka, of course.
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] Chan gets up and follows Wendy. "Are you sure you want to get involved in this?"
[Hatchet] He just shrugs, gnawing on his kebab. "The blind one." It's blunt, and rude, and it's... also true. He could have called her Mia, or Ms. McNamara, but he doesn't. The physical reality of her is far more present in his mind than things like her name, like pleasantries of human identity. There's a reason why he becomes more universally disliked the more time goes on: he is a jackass.
And worse, it's not hard to see that he could try harder. It's not hard to see that he knows better. It's not hard to see that his rudeness is often a simple lack of giving a shit, or worse, going out of his way to irritate and aggravate those around him.
Don't! Don't touch me!
His eyes flick to Drew as she snaps at the women, then go back to Charlie. "You know... I respect your tribe," he says thoughtfully. "I really do. But I don't always understand it. To be perfectly honest, the Fenrir way, in this case, makes more sense to me."
[Wendy Berber] *People swarm around Drew, and Drew doesn't want touched. Wendy does the only thing she can think of that might help. She jerks her hands away and backs off. Nearly into the Wendigo. A sharp gasp strangled in her throat before she shakes her head and watches Drew charge off.*
... Oh d-d-dear d-dear.
[Kemp] "Then don't watch it. Or go gather with the moths to burn in the flames of need."
He shrugged to Gina and rose to his feet.
"Life happens, then ya get dead. The trick is to make something of that little space between so when the time comes, ya can go out looking death in the eyes with a wide ass smile on your face."
He brushed the baggy ass of his jeans off as he nodded to her and headed for Imogen. Only brushing pass her like a shadow with a murmured.
"Some party, eh? Have a good one Doc."
[Mackenzie Walsh] Thomas stares at her, and Mackenzie's offer of water is rebuffed. She watches, from her position on the ground beside Drew as the girl all but frenzies and pushes out of the cluster of assistance. The brunette watches her go with a mildly furrowed brow before she pushes herself to her feet and looks through the crowd at the man who had just belittled the girl he had, she believed, been trying to aid until that point.
"I'm not yours to command, so don't snap commands at me like a dog, Sir." Cool, quiet. "I suppose you would refuse to help a bleeding woman in that case where she by the side of the road in all her weakness." The lawyer shook her head lightly.
"Forgive me, I forgot how differently we see the world."
She turns away.
[Thomas] (Willpower: Lawyers. Same everywhere no matter the race)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 4, 5 (Botch x 2 at target 6)
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] He carefully pulled Wendy next to him. "Say the word, and I will pull her out of there."
[Imogen] Kemp brushes by Imogen with a murmured word. Imogen merely turns her head, meeting his eyes as he passes.
"Goodnight," is all she says, her voice tightly even, utterly controlled.
[Thomas] (Rage Roll. -3 Difficulty)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 5)
[Jeremiah McNamara] Like Drew, Mia begins to feel decidedly crowded, if for entirely different reasons. Someone is offering water. Someone full of the Beast is telling the struggling girl to, more or less, suck it up and it's all your fault. Then the woman who suddenly garners such attention is rising [she feels it fromt he stirred air, hears it in the shifting breathing, the change of location as the sound rises] and Mia sits back on her heels, giving her the desired space though she herself hadn't tried to touch the girl. Off she goes and Mia makes no move or word to stop her. A bad end.
She can't blame the kid for jetting.
Shaking her head she brushes off her jeans at the knees. "Well said." Is her response to the air. To the general swirling masses in perpetual darkness. To Mackenzie, though she doesn't know the woman from Eve. "Careful, though. The compassion and the merit of the word 'no' doesn't seem to get you much around here."
...it's a shame, really, that she can't see Thomas. Or that he hasn't quite left yet. Or that he may not be the best person to say that around.
[Gina McClaren] G'necht Kemp darlin.
*Sings the pikey, a tad bitter. She's getting disheartened being here in chicago. She flops back in the grass with a bounce and a jingle of jewelery.*
Fook.
[Charlie] A female Fury might have immediately corrected Hatchet, Fostern and Alpha or not, might have inserted Mia's name in place of that physical identifier or at the very least bristled at the show of disrespect. Charlie doesn't do any of that. Not right away, anyway. First he sniffs to clear the blood clots out of his sinuses and spits again, and then he wraps his left hand in the hem of his t-shirt to wipe at the still-wet blood on his upper lip and mouth. It smears, but lessens somewhat. He doesn't look as though he's just come from battle.
"That's Mia," he says, as if he's commenting on the weather, and then there's an outburst from the young kinswoman Decker had been ordering around just minutes ago. Charlie briefly glances over, and then looks back at his Alpha as he speaks.
Some would argue that it takes gall for a metis to look a Fostern in the eye like he does. It's not a challenge, though. He's just listening.
"I wanna hear more about that," he says, sounding genuinely interested and not, say, indignant or offended, "but I think I better go fix Silence before he wakes up and tears my spine out."
[Danicka Musil] Her eyebrows go up as the massive Get of Fenris goes down and the bloody-nosed Charlie goes running, but then she lifts her hand and yawns slightly against the back of it. Her posture is remarkably good but she does let herself slouch down a bit in her chair, watching the other players. She clearly had no interest in what happened with Drew, either during the ordeal or afterwards. She is not hungry, at least not for hot dogs or kebabs -- or even her own kolace -- and no one is up on stage at the moment. The most interesting thing at the bonfire for her, at the moment, is the spectacle of speed and violence going on on the field.
It distracts her from the tension behind her, closer to the fire. Her back faces that direction, so she doesn't see Katherine and Lukas heading her way. With all the Garou around, with all the sheer rage, it takes her until they're within something like five feet of her for the hairs on the back of Danicka's neck to stand on end and tell her something's there. She twists in her chair, looking back at them.
A thin smile. A small one. A lift of her eyebrows.
[Thomas]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 5, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Kyle Velener] The half empty bottle of beer sat beside Kyle, slowly warming as he ignored it. Kyle simply sat on the edge of the performance area playing his guitar. He wasn't up to joining the big crowds so he simply did what he did best. Stayed out of the way and practiced his music
[Thomas] (Reflexive Ancestors)
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Kemp] For a moment he paused, stepping back to Imogen with a lower murmur.
"There's a reason for everything. It weren't you causing the waves, but ya weighed in and got wet in the storm. Just remember, you're a duck. And when the last drop of rain falls, you'll still be swimming away. But shit like this is like kids, they come between parents, cause ripples, cause havoc between a couple and in the end, they move on one day. Then there's just you and him. Can't let others cause waves where there's enough going on already. Can't blame ya for being hurt if ya are. And if ya had words for Him then he'll figure it out."
[Hatchet] Hatchet watches Charlie but does not offer healing. Doesn't lift his hand, wiggle his fingers, suggest that maybe Charlie could use some help. It's already healing on its own. He keeps eating his kebab instead, nodding. "I know," he says mildly.
Charlie informs him that he'd like to hear more and Hatchet just nods, as though saying it's all right for Charlie to head off, he'll be right here, chewin' on his dinner. "I don't think he'll tear your spine out. Hell, he may be in shock that a scrawny thing like you managed to knock him out."
[Wendy Berber] *Wendy's eyes are huge behind her glasses, tucked to a Wendigo she'd met five minutes ago. Before the world seemed about to end in screaming kin of one sort or another. She looks down at him and curls her hands into her T-shirt.*
c-can we.. can we g-go somewhere else now? M-maybe? I'm sorry.. c-can we?
[Thomas] The Skald stops.
The Air Crackles.
And Something under the skin, that's been begging to get out for the last five minutes, surges to the surface. He's ten feet from the Tree line. The air is suddenly crisp as winter and his eyes behold the shadow ahead.
The Growl is the first thing heard, rippling and vicious. It tears free of the Skald's throat, erasing logical thought and design. The Crinos body surges into view, the dread shadow of the War Machine crafted on the background of the treeline...
You and I need to have a word, Boy
...A tree topples to one side, creaking louder and louder before it thrums into the forest, breaking branches and shattering twigs before coming to rest. Of the Skald, little but a rent in the dark patch where the treeline was once solid before.
[Imogen] Just remember, you're a duck --
"I don't need yer pithy words o' wisdom, Kemp," she says, and instantly, in that very moment, it is impossible to tell they know each other. He might well be a stranger offering her advice.
"Or your advice."
[Charlie] Charlie bites back the laughter that threatens to leave his throat and, as Joey has seen happen on more than one occasion, cause the muscles in his body to give up their hold on his skeleton and deposit him on the ground, then rolls his shoulders with a rippling crackle of vertebrae and starts off towards the play area.
"I ain't scrawny," he halfheartedly protests, and starts off to fix the Adren he broke.
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] He just gave a simple nod, wrapping a comforting arm around her back and pulling her away, to the other side of the fire, away from everyone else. A nice quiet spot, and he gestured for them to sit.
"I know you barely know me, but talk to me. Maybe I can help somehow. You never know."
[Kemp] "Fine. Then don't have a good one. Whatever."
He shrugged, very accustomed to Imogen sticking her oversized foot up his ass without Vaseline on a regular bases. And like that he walked away.
[Imogen] Thomas hits his war form and Imogen's instant, instinctual reaction is to reach for her gun. She stops short, however, with the weapon down, safety off, finger on the trigger guard, not the trigger. Gut Song goes surging into the woods.
"Kemp," her voice raises to catch the Garou as he stalks away.
"Yer tribesmate."
With the gun, she points toward the great swath he's cut through in the woods.
[Joss Lehrer] And then someone pops fur. She arches a brow and watches, as Thomas goes stomping into the woods, and well, remains right where she is. She places her last chip between her lips, and chews it thoughtfully as Imogen calls to Kemp to follow his (and her own) tribemate. She leans forward, slightly, and watches.
What isn't seen, is that she's ready to act. There are kinfolk here, and a lot of them. But with others between her and the path of the crinos - thankfully away from the fire - like as not she'll remain where she is.
[Gina McClaren] *Gina's laid flat out, getting a good look at the stars and breathing. She doesn't see Thomas snap to Crinos. She doesn't see much of anything but stars and cloudy sky trying to obscure them. Finally she sits up. This called for a riotous amount of alcohol. Gina heads towards the food table, plate in hand. *
[Drew Roscoe] Drew had made it about thirty feet out of the clearing, into the path cut through the trees to the parking area when a horrible snarling roar cut through the air, followed by the creaking, shuttering crunch of a tree tipping over into its comrades. She stopped long enough to look around, to make sure this wasn't happening by her, that nothing was going to come sweeping its way out of the trees to grab her, drag her up into a tree, and gobble her up.
(That's Jaguars, stupid.
Doesn't matter, asshole, it'll still kill me.)
She fumbled with the knot of her hoodie and tugged the garment on, eyes darting this way and that, following the motions of the shadows cast in the trees from the fires, body tense and exhausted all together. But that doesn't weigh her down when another awful noise tears through the trees. She bolted like a sprinter from the starting line, ran as fast as she could back to her truck.
She slapped against the vehicle's side with her palms, fumbled in her hood pockets for the keys and, upon finding them, stabbed at the lock and missed several times with the keys. She cried out frustration and panic in one sound and the key hit home. The door unlocked, she threw it open, dove in, and slammed the heavy metal door behind her.
Here, in the safety of her cab, she lay across the seat bench, arms curled around her head, and sobbed.
[Maija] She falls completely. Utterly. Still.
She doesn't move. She does so much as breathe until the beast crosses the treeline and moves away. She doesn't realize that she's holding on to a platter in a deathgrip either, until hes out of sight, and she feels the ache in her fingers.
Next time, owe them or not, she's telling the Brotherhood folks no.
Or demanding double the money.
[Kemp] He just waved without turning around, lifting one hand in the air. Shot down once, shame on her, shot down twice, shame on him. He knew this game. Just the same, he took his own casual sweet time in heading off into the woods. It wouldn't be hard to tell which way Crazy Boy went.
[Danicka Musil] Not so very long ago, the explosion of Rage and fur to the left, barely within Danicka's peripheral vision, would have broken her down completely. The sensation of Kate and Lukas approaching is nothing, absolutely nothing, to what goes through her then. She whips around, though she doesn't want to see it, and tension ripples up her spine so intensely that she visibly straightens, visibly elongates. Her hands go to the arms of the lawnchair as though she's about launch herself up and bolt.
But she doesn't. Not now. She freezes, stock still only because the monster is going that way instead of towards her, but ten feet, now twenty, now even farther, does not comfort her. She doesn't relax after a moment and turn back to Lukas and Kate. She doesn't look back at the game. She stares at the place where Thomas vanished, as though expecting him to come back, as though waiting for it.
[John Thornton] A flashlight's beam bounces through the woods, its erratic motion undeniably caused by the tread of a man approaching from the parking area. His form was wrapped in a long black trenchcoat, slick with the rain spat down from the skies above on his walk to the clearing.
In the dim light, his hair is a thick brown mop, likewise slick with rainwater, and disheveled with the frequent passage of weary fingers. As the trench is tugged by the wind, a white dress shirt, its collar unbuttoned, and a loosened necktie of navy are revealed, as is the polished five pointed star upon his hip.
In one hand is the aforementioned flashlight; the other holds a bottle of amber liquid...
His expression is an untelling deadpan, though eyes of bloodshot hazel scan the night tirelessly.
[Mackenzie Walsh] She has not had the chance to do more than begin to turn toward the source of the voice congratulating her on words well said when there is the overwhelming sense of imminent danger from behind her. And just as there had been a man standing at her back suddenly there was a giant fur-covered Garou surging past her into the woods.
The brunette's skin blanches.
She goes absolutely still, her fingers white-knuckled around her bottle of water and closes her eyes for a moment, concentrating on the pounding of blood in her skull until the moment passes and she can move once more.
To Mia, after a pause she says in a quiet, half-strangled tone: "What it gets you is steps closer to your own death."
[Gina McClaren] *Gina catches sight of something big and grey and unhinged. There goes Thomas. She takes a deep breath, but as hes leaving it looked alright. Its about then she notices Maija. And with recent events being what they were..well..she knew that look. her voice is soft and soothing as the pikey sings.*
Peaches. He's leavin.
[Wendy Berber] *Wendy's eyes snap to Thomas in his rage form. She curls her arms around to herself and waits. But he's moving away. Moving off. And Doom is not going to befall everyone because of one Stupid woman. Her eyes dart down to Chan, but she doesn't sit. Instead breathing one word that seems to about sum up whats happening here tonight.*
... Shit.
[Decker] Out on the field, pigs fly, the moon is made of green cheese, and Charlie...
...knocks Decker the fuck out with a flying tackle.
Then the Garou are racing all over the field, and Charlie's running over with a bloody nose, and then he's going back, and he lays hands on Decker -- twice -- between it seems to take. Barely.
The Modi's eyes snap open. The rage there is enough to sear a man. His hand shoots out; he grabs Charlie by the collar and smacks the crown of his head into the theurge's nose.
And then he shoves him back, sits up, takes on the hulking, brutish Glabro form.
"Thanks," he growls.
[Decker] (headbutt!)
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 5, 5, 5, 5, 7, 7, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6) Re-rolls: 3
[Maija] It takes a moment for Gina's voice to register. She swallows, hard, and then forces herself to take a slow breath. She glances toward Gina, and nods, slightly. He's leaving. She knows.
She doesn't relax, exactly, but she does begin to move again. Safety in work - right? "Yeah."
[Thomas] -Angry. Impatience. Flight to the winds-
Something crack and shatters under the swipe of a clawed fist.
-Impotent. Arrogant. Small-
A rock pinwheels away, cratering the grassy floor and bouncing off several trees like a pinball.
-Seen Cubs with more will-
The snarl is vicious. A Hate-thing from the stomach. A-
-Shut up and sit down-
It chokes, gagging the Skald, something unseen visibly rooting him in place a moment before he seems to fall to all fours, head lifting, nose scenting and ears laid back along the skull.
-That I'm your will in this moment is a sickness under my dead arse. Imagine. Over some stupid little kin and her stupid little words-
The ire is beginning to abate. Something replacing it, teeth flush with the lips. Ears lowering. The eyes continue to search, nose flaring around a scent he can't find.
-Shame boy. That's what it is and when this moment comes back to you in your Thinking times, I want you to remember the most important part-
He whines sharply, huddling closer to the ground, tail tucking around his legs.
-A Rotagar doesn't speak to be laughed at, unless he's laughing at you-
[Decker] (damage!)
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 7, 8, 8, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 5, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Imogen] Her breath exhales sharply through her nose as Kemp simply continues walking off, though his direction changes, ever so slightly. Fingers lift to her face, not to push back her hair, which has fallen into her eyes but to briefly pinch her nose as if to ward off a headache. The hand drops abruptly, her neck straightens. She turns her head to look at the football game, her gaze briefly dropping to Decker flat on the ground, then Charlie leaning over him. There is no visible change in her face.
Decker surges upward in violence. Imogen turns away abruptly without waiting to see the result, her attention returning to the alcohol. She ends up merely choosing another beer bottle, cracking it open with an opener provided.
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] "Well, it started off really well." Heh heh, he tries. "Maybe..something to drink to help relax you? Soda? Water? something harder?"
He was still standing beside Wendy, had been waiting to see if she sat before he did. "I want to do something to help." That was him. He was a helper. He liked to give of himself for those who needed it.
[Hatchet] He's watching over Charlie, rather than paying attention to those around him -- which is mostly kinswomen, if he stopped to think about it -- and when Silence headbutts the metis, Hatchet laughs so hard he drops his lamb kebab.
That's not to say he missed Thomas shifting, nearly frenzying, running into the woods. He didn't. He stopped eating when it happened, he looked over, and he waited for the explosion. He was ready, if need be, but in the end the Fenrir had enough control to remove himself. He watches the others react, and it seems like Kemp is going after his tribesmate, so in the end Hatchet relaxes. He keeps his thoughts to himself, as far as Thomas is concerned.
He stops laughing when Charlie reels. He doesn't pick up his kebab but heads out onto the field.
[Drew Roscoe] ....Or, all of that would have been the case if the pathway were clear. There was a bobbing light up ahead, and somehow through tear-blurred eyes and a panic-racing heart and continued difficulty wrangling her breath for more than ten seconds she misjudged depth and distance, and instead of dodging around the person with the flashlight quite literally slammed into them.
Into John Thornton.
His hands were preoccupied, one with a bottle of liquor, the other with the flashlight that had bobbed and bounced. The girl that had slammed into him was petite, her head came up to his collarbone, if that. And, more noticeable than that, she's in hysterics. Her eyes are wide, her breathing erratic, her face wet with tears and hot with shame and fear. Her hands flew up for a moment, then settled grasping either side of the detective's trench coat.
She looked over either shoulder, into the woods and toward the fire, then she spoke quickly and pushed John backward, trying to urge him away. "Jesus Christ ya can't go that way, gotta go back, gotta run, they're gonna fuckin' kill!"
[Charlie] Decker shifts to Glabro and growls out a 'Thanks' when the metis manages to bring him back from unconsciousness by sheer force of will alone, it seems; Charlie doesn't hear that, though. His nose explodes when the Modi's head smashes into it, and Charlie promptly slumps onto his side in the grass, dizzy and bleeding.
Again.
[Lukas] A moment later Lukas comes up beside Danicka.
Beside her. He doesn't stop behind her, but instead steps to the side of her lawn chair and, balancing his food carefully, folds down to his knees. Then to sit crosslegged on the grass.
He hands her a beer. And murmurs, "On to pod kontrolou. Ono je oukej."
Then he raises his voice, speaks to Kate behind him. "You going to be all right sitting on this dirty, dirty ground, Katherine?" Only the faintest lilt in his tone suggests he's teasing.
[Gina McClaren] There's an awfi lot o food darlin.. Would ye be en the mood tae start et aft recht?
*She digs in her satchel and comes up with... A joint. Because sure as shit there were some people round here needed to caaaalm down. Pikey's face soft with mischief.*
Ah'm Gina.
[Hatchet] Hatchet comes striding out into the midst of the football mess, ignoring the running to and fro of the players, and walks straight over to Decker and Charlie. "Dude," he mutters, crouching down by his packmate. But he doesn't heal him. He just frowns. "Not cool."
It's possible he's talking to Decker. Equally likely he's talking to Charlie.
[Jeremiah McNamara] Her reaction to Thomas' change isn't nearly so strong as many of the other kinfolk. Namely because she simply cannot see it. She may feel a stirring, a sensation of the sudden spike in Rage that causes her bottom to flex slightly, the unconscious flattening of a tail evolution long ago denied her kind, but the sensation if brief and passes almost as quickly as it comes. After all, the Fenrir isn't turning about and charging, thus bringing that burning mass of cyclonic wrathful fury back in their direction... so, by and large, that end of the event is rather lost on Mia.
Small mercies.
It's clear something shook up the woman with cool, quiet voice, precise diction and fluid vocabulary. The blind kinswoman eyebrow arches, swept upward like a stroke of jet along a canvas of fair olive-kissed complexion, bathed warm amber in the glow of the crackling bonfire. "Mmmm. In the end just breathing manages that feat, I guess." The fire is to her back. She seems to recall that that means the food is to the Southwest of her... she turns slightly in that direction. "I need a drink. Something stronger than this," Lifting the untouched Sam Adams in her right hand. "I'm Jeremiah, by the way. Most call me 'Mia." Her tone is delicate; quiet, though recent agitation still stirs the current beneath.
[Kemp] He trailed Thomas, it wasn't hard. Listening to his crashing about as he did what he did best, he made himself less noticeable to the world. And simply watched to make sure Thomas wouldn't do something he might regret later. That is, unless it greatly amused Kemp to see. Then he'd watch and wait to say...."I told ya so."....later
[Danicka Musil] A moment later Lukas comes up beside Danicka, and kneels, then sits on the ground by her chair, and she still doesn't look away from the woods. The beer he hands up to her is ignored. She stares, unblinking, still waiting for him to come back. Lukas teases Katherine, and Danicka doesn't even seem to hear him.
[Maija] Gina pulls out a joint, and that gets Maija's attention. She blinks, and then there's a brief flicker of something that might, some day, grow up to be an actual smile if it were ever allowed to survive that long. "Dude. if you'd share that? I'd be most grateful..."
Because if she doesn't get something to sooth her nerves, she's not gonna be able to stick it out.
[Charlie] Charlie is blinking stupidly when his Alpha comes out of the distance, palpating his nose as if attempting to make sure that it's still attached to his head, and when his vision clears and his ears stop ringing he gives a sharp shake of his head and pushes himself into an upright position.
"What's not cool?" he asks, his voice thick with blood and his sinuses congested. The thick flow of fluid is beginning to slow already. Soon he'll be right back where he was a few moments ago, before he decided to come back and forcibly drag Decker conscious again. He sounds confused.
[Wendy Berber] {fire}
Um. M-maybe.. . N-no. No.. I'm ok..
*She sits. Finally. taking a deeep breath and wondering where her hotdog went. She rubs the back of her neck, apologetic.*
I'm sorry.
[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine comes tripping lightly in her Alpha's wake, with her little basket dangling from her arm as if she were Little Bo Peep searching for her flock of sheep on the field. She says something in french toward her pack-mate and doffs the top of his head with her palm as she stops beside him and peers down at the ground in scrutiny.
"It is simply a mercy that these are my older pair of jeans, Lukas."
She chides, and turns to display a taunt backside, before reluctantly depositing herself on the ground beside him. She opens her basket and removes a champagne glass, and then a small cooler. "Champagne?" She inquires with an arch expression.
[John Thornton] "Oof."
Petite or no, John was not expecting the girl to run from the darkness directly into him... His eyes were focused on where the sounds from the football field were emanating steadily. It sounded like out and out warfare.
John takes a half step back at the impact, dark ringed hazel eyes focusing on the girl with a raised brow.
"Perhaps... Though I have heard they tend to play rougher than we do, even at celebrations."
He considers for a few moments, before speaking.
"First, stand still, and take 5 deep breaths. Then we'll talk..."
That said, the liquor bottle is placed on the ground beside him, the flashlight is switched to his free hand, and then John's right slips into the trench... Withdrawing a large caliber pistol that gleamed dully in the reflections of the flashlight's beam.
His next move takes him a step closer to the bonfire... placing him a little more fully between Drew and the area from whence she ran.
[Hatchet] "Saying 'thank you' with a bash to the face," Hatchet answers simply, though Decker is still right there. He lifts his eyebrows, peering at the Fury. He shakes his head. "Football's a really weird game," he says ponderously. "You all right?"
[Imogen] She holsters her gun again, a whisper of metal against leather. A click as she fastens the restraining strap in place. Another swallow of beer.
She moves toward the fire, and takes a seat, crossing her legs indian-style.
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] A moment passes, and then he sits beside her.
"You have nothing to be sorry about. I take it she's a friend, and that warrents concern when needed. Never be ashamed on showing your feelings. Sounds funny from a guy, I know, but I'm learning as well." He chuckled.
"Remember I said I lived isolated? We had arranged mates. Mine was killed before it was our time. When I came here, I fell for a girl. My Alpha's sister. And I mean I fell hard. I wanted to claim her on the spot. So I am learning all this emotion stuff as well."
He gently rubbed her shoulder, meant to reassure her. "It's going to work out, don't worry. And if you ever need a ear to talk to, just let me know."
[Gina McClaren] O'course darlin. Tha's why ah brought et oop. Es nae fair tae smoke an' nae share.
*A warm welcoming grin, Gina shrugging her shoulders with an impressive bounce of female charms. Teh caramel kin digs out a lighter, taking a drag off of the skinny little spliff and offering it across the table of food.*
Reckon we'd best take our food an' head elsewhere though.. reckon we'll be four hundred pounds we smoke thes entire theng round a whole table o' food..aye?
*She gestures to the performance area, before stooping to grab her tambourine.*
[Charlie] He all right?
"I am fabulous," Charlie says, groggy but livening up.
The Theurge hauls himself into a kneeling position, dragging one spindly hand down his face and smearing the blood that has poured out onto his mouth and chin. He looks down at his palm as if he had forgotten he was bleeding, or had never realized it to begin with, then wipes his hand off on the hem of his shirt. A watery sniff results in him spitting again, and then he gets to his feet with coltish uncertainty. His knees don't buckle, though. He's fine.
"I think I'm gonna go confer with the wise and powerful Ganja before I get my nose broken again." He wipes at his face one more time, clearing as much of the blood off as he's going to manage without water, a mirror, or assistance, then asks, "You wanna come?"
[Drew Roscoe] "Are you stupid?!" She shook her head when he set the liquor bottle down and reached for a gun, taking a hold of his hand at the wrist and pushing it down, pointing the barrel toward the earth. She wouldn't let him go, let him disengage himself enough to walk out toward the bonfire. She just shook her head at him and hiccuped frantic breaths that were more gulps of air than true, nurturing inhales.
He joked. He acted so damn calm. How could he? Didn't he hear the roars of something unleashed in the trees?
"He's gonna kill someone, and they're gonna kill him. Guns don't do shit against them, just come back with me, please...!" She pulled on his coat in small downward tugs rather than trying to physically drag him back to the parking lot. She's had enough of dragging for one night, enough of carrying, of being forced to do anything. She gulped and looked back toward the fire.
"Just... Don't."
[Mackenzie Walsh] Mia's introduction is returned, and the two women take themselves to the fireside to share a drink of something stronger. Whatever that is, by the time Mackenzie has spotted the Doctor approaching, her color has returned and her smile is warm enough to suggest she's recovered from her brief flirtation with danger.
Newly opened beer in hand, the lawyer comes to a stop beside Imogen and gestures to the spot beside her. "Might if I join you, Doctor?" She still retains the title in conversation because, well, given their surroundings, the reminder of their outside lives seemed more important than ever.
"This is quite the bonfire." She remarks, a touch dryly as she sits down, lifting the beer bottle to her lips.
[Maija] She glances across the table, makes sure that everything will survive and there's nothing she needs to do for a few moments. Then, she tucks her hand into her pockets and moves to follow Gina. "ain't eatin none, m'self. I jus' serve th'shit an' make sure it's hot or cold."
That's the most she's said all night, and she falls quiet again, just as easily.
[Hatchet] "I...totally want to come," Hatchet says, rising to his feet and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. The fact that Charlie is still bloodsmeared doesn't seem to phase him, at least not enough to suggest a towel, but he strolls quite pleasantly across the grass with his packmate towards... well. Wherever it is they're going to light up.
[Wendy Berber] *She bears the unauthorized touching quietly. No jerking away. This garou was trying to be comforting. Rubbing unknowingly over scars of a fanged mouth that would have killed her had the ragdoll shaking of her spindly teenage body not been disciplinary. Were he touching the other scar from the same incident, Wendy would be on her feet fleeing for her mate. She swallows hard. *
Oh.. um.. your m-mate couldn't um, couldn't come tonight?
*Small talk Berber. Try it.*
[Imogen] Imogen casts a glance in Mackenzie's direction, lifting her beer bottle to take another deep swallow. A nod is the only answer she gets to her question if she can join. Her dry comment, likewise, receives little in the way of reply.
"Ms. Walsh," Imogen says after several seconds of silence, her eyes moving from the fire to the brunette, "I daresay, we've met each other in enough social occasions to begin to address each other by our first names, wouldn't you agree?"
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] "Well, she's not my mate....not yet. But things are looking good that she will be. As for tonight, no. She was working all day and was worn out."
It was only a quick touch he had given her.
"Oh, so...lets try and get on to happier thoughts. Hm. Ok, tell me why you are so interested in the occult and spirits."
[Gina McClaren] *Gina jingles along beside Maija, heading to the stage with a plate of food in one hand and a tambourine in the other, waving at folks best she can as she passes. She spots a familiar face and singsongs*
KYLE! Come, have a nip an a toke, aye?
*She'd cheery the goth right out of him*
[Lukas] Lukas casts the champagne glass and cooler a faintly amused glance. "No," he replies, quite courteously, "thank you."
Faintly amused, because -- let's be honest -- his attention is diverted. He cracks open his beer. Sets his plate down. Takes a swig, and then reaches up and out, puts his hand over Danicka's.
"Danička. Podívej se na mě."
[Mackenzie Walsh] Mackenzie laughs at that, and nods, a hand tangling momentarily in the depths of her hair to tender it out of her vision. "Yes, I dare say that's so," She leans over and lightly clinks her bottle against the redhead's with a slight turn of her lips.
"Cheers, then, Imogen."
She looks around at the gathering, then twists to catch sight of her guitar, still safely stowed beside the stage. "I brought my Martin with me, maybe we should try our hand at something." She quirks a dark eyebrow.
"Once the clouds of smoke dissipate a little over there."
[John Thornton] "Alright... This way."
With that, John nods in the direction of where his car sat, idly ticking as the heat dissipated from the engine. He glances down at the bottle... His expression becomes momentarily pained.
Then, without further delay, he starts with this woman he's only just met, towards the cars.
"The black Crown Vic. Engine's still warm."
The car in question hulked in the darkness of night like a sleeping panther, its form still, ticking steadily, the hood still warm. The hubcaps looked like simple round bowls, and there were two antennae jutting from the top of the trunk; one could only be that of a radio. A light sat beside the exterior rear view window on the driver's side...
The whole of it was unmistakable as a former police car; likely a highway interceptor model.
[Maija] She flinches as gina calls for someone else - but doesn't stop. The siren call of a J is enough to keep her with the very bubbly kin. They couldn't be more opposite if they tried, and even now Maija seems to fade into the background, a bit, letting Gina keep the attention all on herself, and contentedly so.
[Kyle Velener] Looking up to Gina he gives a wave in greeting but shakes his head at the offer. Wasn't some moral high ground that he was taking, just something he kept to himself about. SMiles as he resumes playing a random tune.
[Charlie] Charlie's gait becomes steadier and straighter as he leads Hatchet away from the sight of all of the carnage this evening and loops around behind the propped-up planks that are serving as the yet-unused performance area this evening. He hawks one more bloody wad of saliva into the dirt as they pass behind it, and threads a glass pipe and a Ziplock baggie of marijuana out of one of the deep pockets of his jeans. Those jeans were new a little over a month ago. They look antiquated now. He'd tried to patch up the thigh where the reanimated Uktena Dancer had gnawed through his leg; the stitches are coming loose and the patch itself is bleached out.
The kid can't stitch to save his or anyone else's life. It's a damn good thing his hands knew how to heal before Bear came along.
Once he's got the baggie and pipe out, he lowers himself into a cross-legged position in the grass behind the stacked planks and starts to pack the bowl. The sniffing and spitting has stopped; save for the blood beneath his nostrils and on his chin, on his shirt, there's no sign that he was ever injured to begin with.
As he packs the bowl with his clean, off right hand, Charlie cuts a quick glance over at Hatchet and asks, "So what were you saying about the Fenrir?"
[Wendy Berber] Oh um. well. I mean. werewolves are real.. right? And there are monsters.. so.. It.. kinda just seems smart to learn about other things.
*Wendy shrugs, offering the shade of a smile.*
A s-spirit appeared in our um, in our basement. A ghost. Boy talked to it.
[Imogen] "Cheers," she says in response, tilting her bottle to be tapped. Ironically, she does not use Mackenzie's given name.
At the comment, Imogen turns her head briefly to glance toward the performance area, "Perhaps," she says. "Doesn't seem like much o' a gatherin' fer music, though."
[Danicka Musil] This time Danicka looks at him. Briefly, but she doesn't jerk away from his hand on hers or suddenly gasp, yelp, startle. She turns and meets Lukas's eyes, then flicks her gaze back at the place Thomas vanished, still suspicious that he's coming back.
"What?" she asks, as though he's said something she doesn't understand, or was just getting her attention to tell her something else. "Hello, Katherine."
[Gina McClaren] Loves, thes es Kyle. he has a hard time talkin. Kyle.. thes es.. uh.. och fook. Wha's yer name again loves?
*A laugh as she plops down in front of the stage beside the guitar playing goth, introducing best she can, and letting Maija Bogart the joint for awhile. She's all curve and intimacy as she ruffles kyle's hair and stretches.*
[Joey] Last down. Andrew has the ball, throws it to Boy, but Joey's just too fast. She plucks the ball from the air like it's nobody's business, and then she's running. Decker tries to tackle Andrew, he really does, but for some reason he just can't get a hold of the guy. Maybe it's the alcohol in his system, maybe it's age, who knows?
And Andrew turns on Decker, trying to tackle the Modi, but Decker stays on his feet. Meanwhile, Syndel gets to Boy, tackling him in the hopes of keeping him of Joey, who's still running. Where's the other team's third player? Unconscious and on the sidelines, headbutted by Decker before this last round even began.
Everyone's back on their feet quickly, and once again the chase is on for the little blonde girl. Boy catches up, tries to tackle but she slips away, just barely. The smallest of the lot of them, the Rotagar is fast. No one can catch her again, it seems, and with no one to stop her, she gets the touchdown.
The Decker, Syndel, Joey team is victorious.
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] He seemed to perk up a bit.
"Really? What did the ghost want?"
[Hatchet] It takes seconds, literally seconds, for Charlie to heal up completely. Hatchet only heals that quickly if he shifts out of his breed form, and that's something he doesn't seem to do very often unless he's hunting, or patrolling, or actually fighting. He just flops down beside the Theurge in the grass and leans back, resting his forearms on his lazily drawn-up knees, looking at the treeline while Charlie works.
"Hmm?"
He glances at the Fury, then back at the trees. "Ah." A beat. "I know the protection of women is not the end-all be-all of your tribal philosophy," he says, and waves a hand aimlessly, "and I know a bit about the rest of it. But Mia and Mackenzie just rushed to coddle that Fenrir girl when Decker dumped her ass on the ground, and to be honest, their behavior disgusted me a far sight more than his. She was throwing a panty little tantrum, for fuck's sake, and then when they tried to help her, she all but spat in their faces."
Hatchet looks at Charlie. "And had it been that drunk Thornton, or the guy with the drums, or any male Kinfolk just as easily broken by an insistent Garou, they wouldn't have given a shit. And that, Charlie, is fucked up."
[Mackenzie Walsh] "Well," the woman returns in moderate amusement, her spirits lifted perhaps by the combination of beer and fireside conversation that did not involve her stepping in to defend a weaker woman from an over-sized monster in human skin and causing it to shift and stomp off into the treeline. "At the very least it could be the musical accompaniment to any more shows of violence."
[Lukas] (ANNIE R U OK?)
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 2, 6, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)
to Danicka Musil
[Maija] She doesn't sit - not quite comfortable enough to do that, but certainly bogarts the J for a few moments. While holding the soothing smoke deep within her lungs and asked her name, she gives it quietly on exhale. "Maija." mi-yah.
Another long draw, and she hands the J off to Gina, and finally sinks to a crouch - still in fight or flight mode, but somewhat more lazily so.
[Danicka Musil] 1) Freaked out. Convinced Thomas is going to come back any second and tear everybody apart.
2) She's in control of herself, though. Just still riding the fight-or-flight edge.
to Lukas
[Wendy Berber] Something was or is still, eating ghosts. chasing them down and hunting them. He was scared.
*Wend nods, not knowing much more in way of details.*
P-perhaps, you should um, meet Boy?
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] He gave a quick nod.
"That sounds fine. Perhaps I can help somehow. Does your pack have a theurge?"
[Boy] Boy comes back, sweaty and visibly tired, and not at all pleased with himself. When he passes by Charlie, he shakes his head in displeasure.
"Where the hell did you go?"
But he doesn't stop to wait for an answer. Instead he heads for the fire, looking for his Mate once again.
[Kyle Velener] Ignores Gina messing with his hair as he gives a warm smile to Maija and nods in greeting. He didn't seem too worried about all the insanity that had been going on around them tonight. He was just content to play and enjoy the unusual atmosphere.
[Imogen] Her breath exhales slightly, sharply amused. "I've seen them do tha'," she says mildly. "In Fianna gatherin's."
It is not often Imogen refers to her tribal past, but twice it has occurred while at a bonfire. Perhaps it is the flames, the violence, the music or some combination of all three that brings it back. Or maybe the alcohol she drinks frees some of the memories she would normally have repressed.
"Musicians would make it their goal t'create a sound track fittin' to the challenge that was occurin' in front o' them. The theme depends on who they're backin'; and who was losin'."
[Joey] Joey makes a stop on her way toward the north end of the fire for her jacket, but she doesn't put it on right away, just holds it balled up in her right fist. The football is tucked in the corner of her left elbow, held against her rib cage.
She's breathing a little heavy, her hair's a mess, the twin buns starting to come undone, but her step is light and her smile is broad. Her next stop is the assortment of beverages just south of the performance platforms. She hasn't been paying attention, being too busy playing with the boys and all, but she doesn't think anyone's done anything yet.
Grabbing a couple bottles of beer, she looks around, spots her friend with his alpha and heads in that direction.
“Hey. Mind if I join?”
[Wendy Berber] *The skinny stick figure of a kin shakes her head, pushing glasses further up her face and rubbing the back of her neck as she speaks to Chanlyeya. She's on the far edge of the fire, seated uncomfortably on a log.*
Um, n-no. Its La Familia p-pack.
[Syndel] Syndel walked off the 'field', stooping to scoop up her hat and plunk down on her head. She brushed at the sole grass stain on her shirt for a few seconds before ignoring it. Plucking grass off of herself, she wandered over towards the tables where the food was laid out, grabbed a hotdog and kabob in one hand, a beer in the other.
All three were devoured down quickly and another dog-n-beer were taken while she turned to look around. Hmm..she wandered over towards the stage, looking at the small group there.
[Decker] So the
Probably a good thing he never made it to college. Or high school. Wouldn't have gotten anywhere on a football scholarship, this one.
His grey eyes search briefly for Charlie as he's coming off the field. The metis is nowhere to be seen, though, and so Decker moves on. Passes Wendy, where he pauses. "Huh." He eyes her a moment. "Nice glasses."
Grabs a bottle of beer out of the ice buckets. Doesn't know where the fuck he left his Wild Turkey. Settles for a brew instead, which he twists open as he comes up on Imogen and Mackenzie.
"Hell's she?" Polite, that. It's lazily drawled, though -- the worst of his rage burnt off on the field.
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] "Oh that's right." A nod. "Maybe there is something I could help with. It would be up to your mate though."
He gave an assuring smile.
"Feeling any better?"
[Charlie] It doesn't take him long to deseed and destem the marijuana. There's a practiced air to his movements, an ease that seems almost natural given the long, thin bones of his hands. These are the hands people think of when they think of a surgeon's hands, or a pianist's, hands that possess some inherent dexterity that others have to strive for years to achieve.
His eyes remain on his task as Hatchet speaks, though at certain pauses the Theurge glances over quickly before returning his attention to his work. The bowl is not packed beyond the brim. It doesn't need to be. Once it's prepared, Charlie reseals the bag, pushes it into his pocket, and pulls out a pack of matches.
The pipe and matches are passed off to his Alpha.
"It's awake," he tells him, an off-hand caution that precedes his response. Now that he's not working, Charlie extends his legs and leans back against the makeshift stage, his knees popping.
A pause, and then he says, "A lot of the kinswomen in my tribe are... I don't know, champions for the cause. At least, the ones back home were. They have trouble watching how other tribes treat their kinswomen without, like, speaking up or trying to do something to change it. Not the men, though. And--"
That's when Joey shows up. He tilts his head back to squint up at the Fenrir, but lets Hatchet field the question.
[Gina McClaren] Mi-yah. Aye then.
*She takes the joint back and inhales, coughing terribly as she hits a harsh patch, the telltale noise of a joint in play suddenly echoing around them. It goes to Maija. Syndel getting a warm smile as the fury approaches. Gina hums lazily, leaning back on her elbows and letting long hair pile up behind her.*
Allo Syndel darlin..
[Andrew] After the football game breaks up, he heads over to pick up his shirt. Pulling it on over his torso while he walks towards where he left his shoes coming in. Maybe Joey will wonder about him later, maybe she'll notice him leaving. He collects his things and wanders off into the woods. Probably to dig a hole and curl up in it for the night. He's not quite ready to sleep under a roof again. Not yet.
[Mackenzie Walsh] The woman seated beside Imogen finds both her brows rising at that. "Are you serious?" She says, though she's rarely known Imogen to exaggerate. Mackenzie's eyes fashion out every Fianna she knows that is in attendance and in her line of vision instinctively and she's tucking one leg beneath the other as she does.
"That's amazing." She concludes eventually, tipping back her beer bottle and taking a draught of it as a vaguely familiar figure approaches. Oh, lovely. It was the caveman who'd been toting the girl over his shoulder earlier. Mackenzie's spine stiffened a little as she looked upward at the grey-eyed man before her, dirtied from playing sport.
"She's Mackenzie Walsh." She offers, with a vaguely enigmatic smile.
[Kyle Velener] Noticing Syndel he stops to give a thumbs up and broad smile to her in greeting. Picks up his beer and drinks some of it. Making a face as he forgets how long it had been sitting there for. Shaking his head he resumes playing while looking around
[Maija] She takes the joint back, though her spine ratchets tighter at the approach of another - watching Syndel warily. Gina doesn't seem to mind - but then again, Gina doesn't seem to worry about anyone.
She takes another hit, long and deep, then hands it back toward Gina. On exhale "I should get back t'work..."
[Boy] "Wendy?" His voice sounded slightly annoyed, but too tired to be anything close to it.
"Who's this?"
Boy makes no attempt to hide his full bodied analysis of Chanlyeya. Sweat soaks into his shirt even now.
[Hatchet] Were they human beings, Hatchet would summarily reject the pile and matches, shaking his head and insisting that Charlie take the first hit. As it is, he's... well. He's Charlie's Alpha. He's Fostern to the Theurge's Cliath. This isn't just about politeness. This is about station, rank, and status. Whether Charlie believes that Hatchet will always be above him by virtue of birth or not, for now it's simply a matter of fact that Hatchet is his superior.
In this life. In this realm. For now.
He lights up without missing a beat, nodding at the mention that This Shit Is Awakened. He's listening to Charlie, taking his hit as Joey comes around the corner, and after exhaling a plume of smoke, shakes his head and passes the pipe to Charlie. "Sure don't," he tells the blonde, leaning back again.
"Do the kinswomen in your tribe," he asks mildly, "have death wishes? Or retardation? Or do they not give a shit what it does to the reputation of the Black Furies who, say, claim and protect them?" He pauses, flicks his eyes at Joey, then back to Charlie. "There's a difference between championing a cause in the human world and trying to pull the same tricks when they're around Family."
[Syndel] Syndel smiled at Gina, waving her bottle towards her. " Gina darling, staying upright tonight? " She made a slightly playful smile at the joke. Her eyes shifted to Kyle and winked at the musician. " Kyle, hows it going?"
The third and unfamiliar girl only gets a polite, semi-friendly smile. " Howdy. " Oh yeah, Texan drawl in full force.
[Lukas] For a moment Lukas's eyes are keen and sharp, flickering over Danicka's face. Like she's a textbook. Like he's a 16-year-old freshly changed Ahroun who will never, ever go to school again.
It passes. His hand over hers relents. He doesn't tell her it's okay again, or that Thomas was still in control of himself. She knows it. She's not an idiot.
He eats a strip of steak off his plate with his hands, and then holds it out to Danicka in wordless, casual offering. Moves on. "Any orange ones tonight?" He nods toward the boxes she brought, set up at the end of the food table.
[Joss Lehrer] Decker returns, and joins Imogen and Mackenzie and Joss remains just a ways away, idly watching the fire. She seems perfectly content to remain where she is, idly watching the goings on, picking up on bits of conversations so on and simply relaxing.
[Imogen] She does not make an effort to speak for Mackenzie, particularly when it is clear that she is going to speak for herself.
"It's perhaps not somethin' yeh'd see here," she answers an earlier comment before taking another deep swallow of her beer, "I've not seen it in years."
Her eyes flick over Decker dispassionately, touching the grass stains and earthen smears on his clothing. If his skin is bruised, her eyes touch there as well.
"Have fun?" she asks, mildly, lifting her beer for another swallow.
[Wendy Berber] *Wendy gets a size smaller somehow as Decker comments on her glasses, giving him a smile thats more "fearful grimace" than actual affection. Its a try though. And then Boy arrives and things get somehow even less comfortable.*
Oh um.. this is Chanlyeya. Um he's a W-wendigo? Chanlyeya, this is my mate, Boy.
*The stutter is back, Wendy standing nervously.*
Um.. how was the game?
[Decker] "Yeah," Decker replies, with a crooked, ironic smirk. "Have fun not bringin' me no pillows 'n ice? -- 'ey!" He raises his voice sharply to call after Andrew, slinking off into the dark. "Where tha hell you been, Dances?"
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] Chanlyeya stands as Boy makes his appearance. Once Wendy has announced him, CHan gives a bow of the head.
"Nice to meet you, Cousin. I've been keeping your mate company with talk. You are a lucky man to have such a bright mate."
[Danicka Musil] Her hello to Katherine goes unanswered, but it was rather blankly given to begin with. Danicka, sitting in a chair while the two Garou sit on the ground like children, or like hippies, looks at Lukas again. He speaks in English this time, offers her a bit of meat off his plate though she rejected the beer.
"Some," she answers, reaching out and taking a bite of steak off his plate with her fingertips. She adds, before putting it in her mouth: "Přinesl jsem krabičku je pro vás. Je to v autě."
[Kyle Velener] Gives a thumbs up to indicate he's doing good. Stops playing as he cracks his knuckles and turns the collar around his neck slightly. Gives a sigh as he stands up and stretches. He'd been sitting for way to long
[Andrew] He pauses at the treeline. Turns back and heads back to the fire. Walking with the slow steady gait he always has. No one's got him drunk yet, probably safer for everyone that way. He joins their little social circle and stands there for a moment. Glancing over at Joss, Imogen, the new lady, and then Decker again.
"Heard from other Children. Wolf hunting season opened in Wyoming." A pause. "They wanted help protesting."
[Joey] Ah. Conversation already in progress.
If Joey had more of a backbone, more of a sense of empowerment, she might speak up, ask again, see if she could spend some time with her friend.
But, for whatever reason, the Get of Fenris doesn't. She nods once, then leaves without a word, headed south in the direction of the food area. The play had caused her to work up quite an appetite, and everything smelled delicious.
[Decker] Decker smirks. He imbues the single word with all the skepticism in the world. " 'Protestin'?"
[Gina McClaren] *Gina frowns at the "staying upright" comment, before she remembers last time she saw syn she fell over. Her attention is drawn from the fury to the joint, and subsequently to Maija. Her brow pinches slightly.*
Darlin.. ye keep et.. ye look like ye need et moore than me, aye? Ah've another one oor tae. Are ye gintae be aulreacht?
*Apparently the girl wasn't skittish just because of Thomas, but skittish in general. Gina sits up further.*
[Lukas] A smile: quick to birth, slow to bloom. "Mám tě rád," he says, because they're surrounded by two dozen Garou and kin, because it's far too exposed, far too open, to say it the other way.
He takes another bite of steak. Then he passes Danicka his plate entirely, moving his beer out of the way so it doesn't get knocked over. Without further ado, the Ahroun stretches out in the grass, tucking his hands behind his head and looking at the stars.
"Kate, why don't you try a bite of my steak? Just a tiny bite. I'm pretty sure it's only got three strains of deadly bacteria in it."
[Andrew] His lips twist up into a hideous rendition of a smirk. "Yeah. Protesting. They held up posters and shouted and stuff. It was funny."
[Wendy Berber] Um...
*Wendy shifts uncomfortably, moving to Boy's side as she notes his expression. She picks at her t-shirt anxiously, plucking it away from her body in a repetitive soothing motion.*
[Imogen] Imogen does not bother to answer Decker's ironic question - an answer is unnecessary, and he has turned away, in either case. She takes another deep swallow of her beer, arching an eyebrow toward the scarred wolf-born.
"Did it work?" she enquires, expecting the answer to be 'no'.
[Boy] "Ahh!" He says with a sudden realization, and extends his hand to shake Chanleya's.
"Younger Brother. Yeah, I think I've seen you around. You're in...Nightcrawler's pack, right?"
He nods to himself, as if answering his own question. And smiles at the mention of Wendy. Thankfully.
"We lost the game. They sort of...gave up in the end."
[Maija] She blinks, and then keeps the J. There's a flicker of expression across her face, though the smile doesn't remain too long - skittish is certainly one way to describe her. "Thanks." will she be alright? Now that's a loaded question... a brief smirk, and she nods, slightly. "Yeah. M'fine."
She stands, stretching slightly, and turns to head back toward the food area, unless someone says something else t'cause her to pause.
[Decker] They held up posters.
Imogen speaks. Decker drops down on his ass, stretches his feet out in front of him. "Fuck did you do? Tear heads off?"
[Syndel] Syndel gave a nod to Kyle and Gina. Taking a bite off the hotdog and washing it down with beer, she walked across the stage, stamping on it some to test it. Not nearly enough booze in her to get her to dance but ya never know, better to know ahead of time if it's stable enough.
The wiff of ole sweet Mary catches her attention and she follows it. Spying Charlie and Hatchet. She stood at the edge of the stage and crouched down, smiling at Charlie. " Nice play out there. Too bad we couldn't get a video of it. "
[Charlie] There may very well come a day when Charlie will be in a position to challenge for a rank that not a soul back home would ever imagine him being prepared to take on. It's been twelve years since his First Change. Most Garou who survive for twelve years are beginning to think of Adren status, if they haven't reached and surpassed it already.
It's no wonder he doesn't think he's ever going to get there. He's still wrapping his head around the fact that he's part of a Sept for the first time since the Sisters took him in.
He takes a hit off of the pipe as Joey heads off towards the food table, and holds the smoke in his lungs for several seconds, fielding the question without laughing at it. It's not a funny question. The implication here is that at least one of the two Fury kinswomen here tonight had done something that isn't just going to affect how people view her, but how they view the metis who is going to be standing up at the Moot tomorrow night and laying a claim on both of them.
"I can't answer for them," he says, voice choked with held-in smoke. Even if he were to answer for them, it would not have cast a favorable light on either the women or himself. The stock explanation is that they, like everyone else in the Nation, couldn't care less what happens to the metis's reputation. It can't get any more tarnished than it was the day he was conceived. He blows a thick swarm of gray out into the night air, then hands the pipe back. "I'm gonna talk to them, though."
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] He gives Boy a warrior's shake of the arm, and smiles.
"That's right, The Swarm pack. I'm the pack's Beta and theurge."
He gestured they all sit to relax since Boy looked tired.
"Wendy was just telling me about the ghost you have in your apartment. Perhaps I can help?"
[Andrew] Still with the grim twisted visage that might, maybe, in another dimension, be a smirk. Decker obviously knows Andrew better than most. "Well, hunters could kill 200 wolves. But I killed..." He pauses to count. His eyes lifted, moving, tallying. "Maybe ten. Twenty. I stopped counting. Children told me rangers were... mobilizing..." The word funny in his mouth. "Search parties for a bear or mountain lion in the area. Warned hunters to stay away. So I came back."
[Danicka Musil] And she's glad, secretly but profoundly, that he doesn't say it the other way. They almost say that too much for her as it is, as though once or twice a month is far too much. She is not used to hearing it. She is not used to saying it. She wonders sometimes if it sounds insincere, coming from someone like her. If everything she says sounds like a lie.
It makes her smile, and she looks at the treeline again, looks back at Lukas. This time her gaze holds his. She takes his plate as though he made it for her and picks at the meat again, takes another small bite. Kate, disgusted by Lukas's suggestion, gets up from the ground for the time being, likely to return with a blanket or a chair of her own, and Danicka leans forward, putting Lukas's plate on top of his stomach.
"You missed the game."
[Kyle Velener] Stretching he picks up his guitar again and strums a few times. Looking for the right notes in his head.
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 5, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Lukas] "Football?" Lukas doesn't protest as the plate is laid on his stomach, as though he were an inanimate object, a piece of furniture. He lifts his head, though, looking at the trampled grass as though the players were still tossing the pigskin around. "They play too rough for me," he adds, smiling as he sets his head back in the cradle of his hands.
"Pojď sem dolů," he says as the first chords of a guitar ripple through the clearing.
[Hatchet] "Oh, thank god," Hatchet mutters, as Joey heads off to get some food. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath of cool air before taking the pipe again. His second hit is deeper, and it sends him reeling slightly. "Fuck," he mutters as he exhales. "It's like it's talking to my lungs. Saying sexy, filthy shit, too."
His head tips back. "I don't know where Madoc ran off to," he says blithely, "but if he doesn't come back, we're screwed. Unless you can drive. I can't drive. Can you drive? You never answered my question about Gina."
[Boy] He nods and sits, moving slightly less gracefully down to the groound this time, and flopping over on his butt.
"Oh, he's not really in the house. That's just where he found me. He's off hiding somewhere else now. And...yeah. I can sort of use the help. And a shaman? Even better."
He looked to Wendy, slightly concerned.
"Everything alright?"
[Joey] It registers, belatedly, that the Fianna Philodox with the Ahroun rage had said he didn't mind if she joined them. Well, Joey's already on her way down to the food, so she decides to keep wandering, though her pace picks up.
She sets down her football, leaving it by the food, not particularly caring if someone tries to make off with it or not. She'll either find them, or she'll buy a new ball. The bottle of beer gets set down long enough to allow her to slip into her jacket. She's starting to come down off the adrenaline rush of the game, her body is cooling, and it's starting to realize that she's relatively small, with a relatively small amount of rage burning inside her, and she's not yet ready for these winter temperatures.
Once the jacket's on, she grabs a plate and piles it high. She doesn't know what half the stuff is, but she puts on huge piles of meat things, and manages to cram a number of what she recognizes as Danicka's kolachays along the side.
Thus burdened, the Rotagar wends her way back up behind the planks designating the performance area, crosses her legs at the ankles, and drops to the ground in front and somewhat between the two Sentinels and indicates the plate of food is for sharing.
“I can drive,” she says. And she finally looks around for Andrew, her original passenger.
[Marrick] She. Finally. Shows up.
There was such a thing as being fashionably late, and there was such a thing as being incredibly late, and there was a third category of being so unfashionably late that it came back into fashion and was no longer odd. It was the second wave of entries.
She started by approaching that which was familiar. This, of course, included going to join her alpha and... whoever he was talking to. She gave half a nod, and kept her hands in her hoodie pockets. Her jeans were torn all to Hell and back. they would have been fashionable had she paid a couple hundred bucks for them. As that she did not?
Well, the secret was one that she would take with her to the grave.
[Gina McClaren] *Gina seems content for the moment, to lounge in the grass and nibble on a samosa. Watching Kyle play with interest.*
[Kyle Velener] The song starts off slow. His foot tapping in time as he plays. Then he hits the right note and his fingers start to run across the strings with a mind of their own. It was a tune he'd heard years ago. He'd heard it while sitting around a camp fire watching garou swap stories of their travels. The music filling him with a smile as he remembers the fun he'd had that time long ago. If only he could sing the lyrics as well.
[Decker] Decker snorts. Might be a laugh. He braces his palms on the ground behind him, his closeshorn hair glinting in the firelight, the scrapes and bruises adding shadows to his arms and face.
"Ya go after 'em 'cause ya think it does some good?" he asks. "'r 'cause it feels good ta kill 'em?"
Guitar music weaves under his words. Decker turns toward the stage carelessly, doesn't recognize the man that's playing. He looks at Imogen briefly; doesn't ask if she's going to play. Yet, anyway.
[Wendy Berber] *Wendy nods, murmuring.*
Um.. I'm going to get us all some food. I'll be right back?
*She offers a small, genuine smile to her mate, relieved.*
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] He sits back down on the grass, comfortable in his element here. Wendy, he noticed, seems happier now that her mate was here.
"All that mess with Decker-rhya and the girl kind of made Wendy uneasy. I've been trying to get her to relax but since you are here now, I think she'll be ok."
He gave them both a smile.
"But yes, your ghost. I would love to help however I can. Is there anything you can tell me?"
[Imogen] Imogen's interest in the conversation has waned. She opens her purse at her side, finding a cigarette case within, a matching bronze plated zippo. She lights up easily, efficiently, and takes a drag, exhaling her smoke toward the fire.
[Danicka Musil] "Football," Danicka confirms with a nod, licking steak juice off her fingertips, the pad of her thumb. He says they play too rough and she makes a sound that's not quite a laugh, miles away from a snort. "They play too rough for everybody, I think. The big one got knocked out by that boy Charlie."
That boy. As though he is not a death machine in his own right. As though he is, in her eyes, something of a child. Considering the number of young Garou she's likely had in her care at some time, this may indeed be how she sees the Fury.
Music fills the clearing over the sound of fire crackling and voices meandering, and it's well played, and Danicka glances at the stage. Her eyes flick at the treeline only briefly, the last dying lights of her tension fading slowly from her spine and shoulders. She looks down at Lukas, her face difficult to read in response to his not-a-request. She smiles faintly, and shakes her head. "Nebudu se mazlit se s vámi před všemi těmi lidmi," she says, half-coyly, but there's underlying seriousness to it. "Řeknou vám, jsou slabé."
[Syndel] Syndel finished her hotdog and took a swig of beer. Looking between Charlie and Hatchet. She settled on Charlies face and squinted. " That his way of saying thank you? " Tipping her bottle towards his nose and the bit of blood on it. She thought she saw Decker introducing his face to Charlies during the game.
[Andrew] He tilts his head and thinks about it for a while. He's not quite familiar enough with humans to understand all that motivates them. But he's sure revenge will motivate a few more hunters to go out there. Maybe. But with all the rangers there, he couldn't stick around. But would it stop the hunters? No.
"Either. I guess. The humans won't stop. So the fewer with guns the happier I am."
[Maija] Back behind the food table, she gets back to work, though at this point it's more puttering than anything. She glances up as people come and go, making sure things are in order. When Wendy comes near, there's actually something that's almost a real smile.
"Hey, Wendy. Long time no see."
[Hatchet] He doesn't know Syndel, barely glances at her when she comes back. Joey doesn't get much of his attention, either. He's quickly relaxing under the influence of Charlie's awakened stash, mostly letting his eyes fall closed.
He yawns. "See, Joey can drive. You're all worried for nothing, Charlie," he mutters.
[Lukas] Lukas laughs quietly. "Je mi jedno, pokud oni to tak říct." It's a statement, almost offhand. He doesn't push again. A moment later, the smile fades a notch. "Je to lepší, než jiné věci, které by se říct."
[Danicka Musil] Her brows draw together. "Like what?"
[Boy] Seated on the ground, in the , he was obviously distracted. He was looking at the retreating figure of his mate, but also thinking of what the Wendigo sitting with him was saying.
"Yeah...yeah, Decker did seem distracted. Even Charlie got the jump on him. "
Eventually he turns back to Chanlyeya, all business now.
"Yeah. The ghost. He came to ask for my help. Told me that there was something hunting them. Ghosts I mean. Wendy, she's very clever, she helped me find a place where..."
Eyes move up to tattered Jeans, and the sight of Marrick puts a smile back on his face.
"You made it. This is uh...Chanlyeya. Beta of the Swarm Pack. Younger Brother, this is Bones to Dust. Beta of La Familia."
[Charlie] Hatchet's assessment of the awakened marijuana's treatment of his internal organs coerces a restrained chuckle from the Theurge, who isn't quite stoned enough to have completely devolved into giggling territory. When the pipe comes back his way he examines the contents of the bowl, then takes a long haul off the end to reawaken the ember.
He's holding the smoke in his lungs when a stream of speech leaves the Philodox's throat. At the question of whether he is able to pilot a motor vehicle, Charlie gives a slow shake of his head, blowing smoke out in a sharp plume over his head and passing the pipe back. There are maybe five or six more hits left in the bowl. Hatchet's likely going to have trouble standing up in a few minutes.
"I think I was busy getting knocked out," he says, and then Joey's chiming in that she can drive. And then Syndel's asking if that's 'his' way of saying thank you. Charlie squints, thinking, and then says, "I don't remember."
A glance over at Hatchet, and then he plucks up the matches and starts to get his legs under him to stand up. He was worried for nothing. Charlie elbows his Alpha in the upper arm to open his eyes back up, then looks at Joey.
"If you drive us back I will like, owe you forever."
[Lukas] "It doesn't matter now." The smile is wholly gone now, leaving his face even, smooth. "They don't say it anymore."
[Marrick] She beams. Or, well, smiles something content and relaxed, and is more than pleased to be next to her Alpha talking to... Chanlyeya. She nods again.
"Yeah, it'sa pain in the ass, though. We gotta get another truck," she says.
"Great t'meetcha Chanlyeya, met yer alpha. Good people."
[Decker] There's no censure; no condonation, either. Decker simply considers the lupus for a moment. Then he nods, a tip of his chin up.
"Fair 'nough."
A quiet, then. Decker watches the guitarist for a while. Ain't much of a music connoisseur, Decker, but for it's worth he doesn't charge the stage and break the guitar. Demand death metal. Whatever the fuck one might expect of him.
He looks back at Andrew.
"Why tha fuck ain'tcha packed yet, Dances?"
[Wendy Berber] *Wendy face brightens in a smile to Maija. The too tall kin dishing up two heaping plates of food for the garou at the fire. She pauses to clear her throat.*
Yeah.. i came to see you but um, You don't live at the brotherhood anymore? And.. a big jerk does. So.. I stopped going mostly. Um, sorry. How are you?
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] Seeing Marrick has now arrived, he stood. Proper etiquette and all. He offered his hand to Marrick. "Nice to meet you properly, Bones to Dust. We were just discussing your pack's ghost problem."
He made a gesture for her to join as he sat back down. His eyes went to Boy.
"Wendy found a place for what?"
[Hatchet] "Don't tell the girl you'll owe her forever, man," Hatchet chides, opening one eye and then closing it again. "You'll never hear the end of it. She'll be like 'awaken my weed, Charlie'. And then like 'dedicate my clothes, Charlie'. And then 'tell me I'm pretty, Charlie'. And 'make me some talens, Charlie'. And you'll do it. Because you gotta, now that you said you owe her forever."
He opens both eyes now and looks at Joey, pale eyes bleary. "He just elbowed me. Did you see that?"
Hatchet closes his eyes. "Wait, are we going in her car or the truck? Where the fuck is Madoc? And where the fuck's Lee? I bet they're fucking. In the mud." Beat. He starts to get to his feet. It takes time. "Filthy savages."
[Alexander] "That'd be me."
Speak of the devil, and all. Alex comes up next to Maija and Wendy, reaching in front of them to grab the biggest, choicest piece of steak he sees.
"I'm the big fuckin' jerk. She's actually just afraid to come by 'cause she's afraid she'll see me get my head torn off someday." A beat. Then, exaggeratedly sweet: "By the way. Hi, Wendy."
[Boy] "Pain in the ass, sure. That's why its a sacrifice."
He looks up at her, tilting his head to one side.
"Are you always this tall? Pull up some grass, Marrick."
He nods to Chanlyeya again.
"Yeah, we found a place where this hunter might strike next. Only...I don't know what to do about it. I can't touch them. Can only sometimes see them. They're not like other spirits."
[Andrew] He turns a bit. Glances at the guy on the stage. And doesn't seem to care about the man or the music. But he hadn't touched the beer, weed, or babes either. So obviously he's not a fun guy.
"Haven't been asked." His shoulders roll in a shrug. And he turns away, starting towards the woods again.
[Marrick] She nods, and then shoots Boy a grin. The Fury takes the opportunity to plop herself down and rest her elbows on her knees. She listens to the two of them converse, and she tries to make sense of what she's heard thus far. For now? She's observing.
[Danicka Musil] Her eyebrows lift slightly. Neither of them is smiling. Danicka tips her head to the side, still sitting in her chair to watch him where he lies. She doesn't say anything for a moment, then slides off the lawnchair and onto her knees on the grass beside his right leg. He's seen a sweater like this on her before. She also has it in dark blue. She's not wearing a camisole under this one, either.
But she doesn't lean forward over him. She just reaches over and plucks a bite of steak from the plate resting on his stomach. "Tell me."
[Maija] She nods, slightly, and then her brow furrows. "they was supposed t'give ya a note. I done left it with Danny at th'bar."
And here's Alex. Maija smirks, slightly, though it doesn't last any longer than any other expression, mask firmly in place. "Shocker there. I should think seein ya get ya head tore off would be great entertainment."
She then moves around the table, placing herself between Wendy and Alex, and reaches for one of the overloaded plates that Wendy's making. "I'll help ya carry these, alright?"
Who knew Maija could play hero...
[Syndel] She chuckled quietly at Charlie's response and stood up slowly. They were leaving, so she turned and strode off the stage, finishing her beer to dump the can in the trash while picking up another one and a kabob to go.
Taking a bite, she let her eyes wander around before settling on Wendy, Maija and Alexander.
[Wendy Berber] GAH!
*Her shoulders jerk and a hotdog rolls off one of the heaped plates she's holding. Wendy hunching her shoulders and scowling down at Alex. She nods to Maija, without a word to the other GW kin, outside of "GAH"*
Um.. yeah.. I'd like that.. Mayeb.. you could get a can or two of, um, pop? I didn't get the note. I'm sorry.
[Kyle Velener] After playing he finally slows the music down and gives a ragged sigh. He'd lost himself in the music and never realized it. Chuckling softly to himself he sits down and rubs at the collar around his neck.
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] He thought about it for a moment.
"When do you think it will strike again?"
[Katherine Bellamonte] "Oh look, it's my sister's room-mate." The honey sweet voice comes from behind the collection of humans. Katherine had left her pack-mate's side in a pique of disgust over his food and decided to fetch herself a chair to sit on when she'd taken sight of the Kinsman headed toward the food.
The elegant features of Miss Bellamonte were currently twisted with distaste. Her pale eyes took the measure of Alexander.
[Joey] Joey knocks back most of her bottle of beer in one go. In this time, Syndel is chatting at Charlie. When she's finished, Charlie says he'll owe her forever if she takes them home. She takes another drink, finishing off the bottle, smacks her lips, and sighs.
“That's true, man. You owe me forever, means forever.” She rolls to her feet. “You don't owe me, bro. Not like you guys're outta my way.”
She looks down at her plate of food, looks at Charlie, looks at Hatchet. And then she holds it out to Syndel. “Can you take this? I don't want it fallin' all over Cassius.”
If Syndel doesn't take it, Joey holds onto it. "Hey guys, I'll meet ya in the parking area. I gotta get my ball." She takes off in the direction of the food fires, trusting Charlie to remember what Cassius looks like, though in all likelihood she'll catch up to them before they get there.
[Decker] "Dances."
Decker doesn't get up, but there's an alertness in him, somehow, when the lupus turns again.
"Why don'tcha come by tha packhouse 'gain sometime."
[Andrew] He looks over his shoulder for a moment, nods. "I will. Gotta learn how to make a table anyway."
And with that cryptic statement, he leaves.
[Alexander] GAH! It makes Alex bark a laugh, which he promptly muffles on a bite of steak. Tears a chunk loose with his teeth. And chews, energetically, moving the chunk into his cheek until he can speak semi-intelligibly.
"Aw, c'mon, Peach, stick around. It's a party."
[Boy] "No way of telling. Though...There was something familiar about it. It felt like...Rage. So, maybe, at the next full moon."
[Gina McClaren] OCh.. fook thes!
*Exclaims Gina all of a sudden.*
Kyle darlin.. can ye play somethen lively like? Lets see effen we cannae gi' these folks riled a wee touch?
*The curvy strider kin is all bounce and Verve suddenly, having shaken off the majority of her pot-coma. She makes for the stage with a swish of skirts and hair, bells jingling and chiming along with the clatter of her tambourine. She rattles the instrument at cahrlie and company, giving them a grin thats nothing but pure mischief.*
Lets have a dance, shall we?
[Alexander] "Oh look," Alex fires right back, "it's Marie Antoinette. Someone get me a fuckin' guillotine."
[Kyle Velener] Looks to Gina and nods as he stands up and cracks his knuckles again. Strumming at the guitar as he listens for the right cord to start things rolling.
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 6, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] He drummed a thumb on his leg, thinking some more. Rage, eats ghosts, and full moons. It did sound like one of his lessons from when he was a kid.
"That should give me a bit of time to figure out what this is. And how to kill it. If you want my help that it."
[Maija] "Leave her th'fuck alone Alex." He'd ignored the first - but she doubts he'll ignore that. after all, it's not in his nature to do so. But maybe he'll back off Wendy, instead.
She grabs a couple sodas, and a couple beers and tucks them in the pockets of her apron. "Gotcha. Yeah, has directions t'where I'm livin now. I'll get it to ya before ya leave t'night, alright? Lead on, I'll follow.."
[Hatchet] "I," Hatchet informs them all, whether they're listening or not, "can't be trusted to hold my breath right now, much less anything in my hands. Charlie, don't ever give me weed again."
He sways to the side, laughs, then starts walking around the stage to head for the parking area, presuming someone will take him home safely. Or he'll wake up in a ditch. That's happened plenty of times. He's all right with that.
[Wendy Berber] *Scary Kat here. Alex Vaughn there. Wendy looks to Maija gratefully. A shake of her head at Alex, and she's moving towards the fire with intent*
No. Um.. Excuse me Please.
[Syndel] If food was handed to her before she left, it was taken...and eaten on her way over. But she still needed to refill. Chewing on her kabob, she simply watched the trio of Kin talk/bicker and let her attention wander around elsewhere.
[Kyle Velener] Funny how his mind has one idea and his fingers have another. He hits a few notes and then sets things rolling. A nod to Gina as he sets the atmosphere for her dancing and watches as he plays to ensure he keeps things moving properly
[Katherine Bellamonte] Her red lips twist.
They were painted a vibrant crimson red and in the firelight they glistened as if she had eaten something bloody. Her pale eyes danced. "Quite so." She agrees to the title. "But I am not the one who should be watching their head in this company."
[Decker] Decker snorts a laugh. He doesn't call the lupus back again. Instead, he folds his legs at the knees, crossing them indian style as he picks his beer up again.
A brief silence. He knocks the brew back. Lowers it, fingers ringed around the neck. Imogen is nearby. She's not talking. They haven't talked, Decker and Imogen, in ... longer than he cares to remember.
He doesn't see her often these days.
"I weren't bullyin' tha girl fer tha helluvit," he says suddenly. "'r ta prove I could. I would'n do that. But fuck sorta Fenrir kin drops her fuckin' drink 'cause some Garou talks ta her?"
[Boy] He just nods, just once, but firmly so.
"You can find us in Lincoln Park, in the City. West of the Caern, South of Lakeview. If you're in the umbra and you see a giant rotting wolf carcass, you've gone too far and should probably run in the other direction."
[Mackenzie Walsh] Taking a swig of her beer, the petite Fury who had been so attentively listening to the music, suddenly pushes herself to her feet and dusts her backside off. She makes a beeline toward the stage area and fetches her guitar case. Perhaps she means to play after Kyle is done.
[Imogen] Imogen takes another hit from her cigarette, a deep drag of toxins, tar, nicotine, carbon monoxide. She lifts her chin to exhale smoke, her eyes moving to watch it as it dissipates, the blue-grey turned red in the firelight.
"You're terrifying, Rohl," she says it bluntly, coolly, as she taps ash, her eyes moving toward him. She hasn't seen him in quite some time. There are, perhaps, new barriers created by the distance.
Her eyebrow arches, "Surely you've noticed that."
[Alexander] Alex lets Wendy go, if only because there's suddenly a more interesting challenge at hand. He tears another bite loose from his steak, drops the bone on the plate and turns on Katherine.
"Take better than you to get my head off my shoulders, missy," he says, and flashes the sort of cocky, toothy grin that's doubtlessly gotten him in trouble before more times than he can count.
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] He chuckled.
"Giant wolf carcass. That would be the Eagles, right? I heard about the rotting totem. Never ventured to see it though. Once I have something, I will find you out and we can figure out what to do next."
[Decker] "She wants ta call herself Fenrir," is all Decker says, "she best git used ta it."
A beat.
"You gon' sit, 'r jus' stand there all night?"
[Marrick] She was listening. She was focusing, and Wendy was headed this way. She looked at her for the time being, and her brows knit briefly. She was... concerned seemed to be the right word. She raised a brow, and inhaled. She almost got herself up, but decided against it.
"Pretty effective deterrent," Marrick said to the Wendigo.
[Gina McClaren] *And things suddenly get a little more heated, and its not the Bonfire. Gina stands in the middle of the stage, five feet of curves and maddening charms. She sways to Kyle's up beat music a moment, catching the beat, before she's all swishing skirts and whirling hair, tambourine being bumped off hips and chest as she sets motion to music. And what motion. Her hips wind one way, her shoulders another. Sensual, Spectacular, and just this side of Sordid. Guitar and Percussion blaring to life from the performance area as the Strider kin work their mojo.*
[dancing!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 8 at target 6) [WP] Re-rolls: 1
[Imogen] "I'm sure she was offered a choice in the matter, wi' it all carefully laid out as t'what qualities she needed to display fer each."
Imogen is already seated.
"I don't want to argue."
[Katherine Bellamonte] A fair head tilts to one side and the Philodox carefully sets the folding chair she had been toting to one side. Her lithe figure prettily dressed in an off one shoulder blouse and a pair of jeans countered to the shape of her thighs. A glittery belt tied off at one hip, tassels gleaming in the fire-light.
She closes the distance and looks down at the boy, her eyes half closed.
"Little drummer boy, do beat out your senseless threats, they amuse me so." She purrs.
[Boy] "Sounds good." He says and gives a friendly smile to the man. Then he turns to Marrick.
"So! Charlie Knocked out Decker. We were playing football. It would have been cool, except he ran away right after. Left me and Andrew, that scarred lupus? Left us high and dry in the middle of the game."
It takes him a while to notice the look on Marrick's Face, and he follows her gaze over, spotting Wendy on her way back.
[Sinclair] She's pretty sure she sees Joey's car going past her as she drives her El Camino out to the bonfire. A harsh sigh leaves her throat but she dosen't whip around and follow the Camaro back to the Brotherhood of Thieves. The bonfire on the summer solstice was her first party here in Chicago, and she's not missing this one, even if she's in a totally different pack now. She keeps going forward.
Just about all she can do.
She's got a date of sorts later on, though she doesn't suspect it'll end even on first base. It's not even a date, really. She's got apologies to make, more of them, and it feels a bit like she won't be done with them anytime soon.
Sinclair turns the car off when she gets to the lot and gets out. It's cool enough to someone from her climate that she's actually got her legs covered for the first time since coming to Chicago. The jeans are old, carpenter-style, which... isn't the fashion for women even remotely. They hang off her narrow hips and reveal a thin black band of underwear elastic, which yet does not give a hint as to what sort of underoos they are. It just proves she's wearing them. Her sneakers are the same navy blue Nikes she's had for years now. Her t-shirt is capsleeved, dark green, and has the art from the cover of Where the Wild Things are across the chest, little Max dancing with the yellow-eyed and sharp-toothed beasts on his island. They have no background but endless forest green, no trees on this silkscreen. It's tight, stretched over her skin. It bares enough of her midriff to show that one piercing she doesn't have is a belly button ring. Her navel is untouched.
She's putting her hair, which keeps getting longer because she keeps not getting it cut, up in a messy ponytail and twisting it into an equally messy bun, as she walks across the playing field.
[Lukas] Danicka reaches down. Plucks food deftly from his plate, set on his stomach. Lukas, watching, has a brief, surreal thought:
she's eating my heart from the cage of my ribs.
It passes. He looks back at her. The night is black; the stars bright. There is no moon. This is neither the longest day nor the longest night, but a time of balance. Everything hangs on a cusp now. His mentor was a Philodox.
The errant thoughts run for cover when he takes a breath. And his eyes are clear and pale and blue, and they hold hers as he says, quietly,
"Some of the kin were talking. About Edward, and Kate, and Mrena, and Sam, and Sampson. Bylo navrženo, že jsem byl ... zúčtování jim ven z mi z cesty."
[Marrick] Her jaw almost dropped, and then she paused for a minute. She blinked. "So, he... wow... damnit, I wish I coulda been there, I coulda tagged in for him."
She paused.
"He really knocked him out?"
[Alexander] "Who's threatening you?" Alex replies cheerfully enough. "I'm just telling you. Not my problem if you hear a threat in it."
[Wendy Berber] *She totes two overloaded plates to Boy and sits down. Offering food to the three garou gathered and murmuring darkly to Boy.*
Um.. Alex is here now.
[Boy] "Well, I think Andrew might have tackled him in the first play, but yeah, Charlie finished him off in the next one."
[Kyle Velener] Kyle probably shouldn't be watching Gina as he plays. The sight of her dancing distracting him for a few moments and he looses concentration before turning away and snapping out of it.
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 5, 6, 6, 6 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Maija] Maija quietly follows Wendy toward Marrick and Boy, plate of food and a bunch of beverages in hand/pockets.
She passes over the plate, sinking to a crouch and sets the soda's and beer down within reach. To Wendy, softly. "Ya know th'Family BBQ in bronzeville? I work there now - an' th'building right next door is where I live. Ya come see me anytime, ok?"
She doesn't interrupt the others, and instead, touches Wendy's shoulder and then heads back to the food table, to work again.
[Decker] "Then don't argue," Decker snaps.
Catches himself. Closes his eyes for a second. Open again.
"Fuck wouldja prefer me ta do, 'Gen? Let her flinch 'n quiver 'n burst inta perty l'il tears? Fuck good is that gon' do her?"
[Syndel] Syndel flicked the stick of the kabob into the trash before meandering her way over towards the bonfire. Circling around slowly, she looked at the people gathered around before spotting Marrick. She headed over to the other Fury and smiled at her.
[Danicka Musil] Danicka's hand freezes on Lukas's plate for a moment. She frowns, her eyes flickering to his face. There's a bit of steak in hand. She does not look quite so ladylike as she would if she were still sitting in her chair, or as she would if she were sitting on a blanket on the grass. She is kneeling, plucking meat bit by bit, tearing it apart with her fingernails, and when her eyes flicker towards are more livid green, she does not look -- at least for a second -- like a lady at all.
"That's retarded," she says finally, the flash of anger passing into more mild irritation. "Co je koruna bez království? Co si oni myslíte, že jste, a Stříbrný Zub?"
[Marrick] Alex is here.
She looks distinctly displeased by this fact, and the Fury starts to stand up. She straightens her hoodie out, and pays attention to the people she's around for the time being.
"That reminds me, I gotta see a galliard 'bout an ass,"she said. Man about a horse. Galliard about an ass. Close enough.
Now? Off to go get Sinclair.
[Katherine Bellamonte] The Silver Fang smiles wider, flashing very white, sharp teeth at him. She leans in as if she intended to touch him. "That's what I thought, myself. Enjoy the food, won't you?"
She straightens, and collects her chair, tossing her glossy waves over a shoulder before sauntering back toward her pack-mate.
[Imogen] Her glance is sharp, cold.
"She burst into tears because yeh grabbed her and tried to force her into a football game. A football game. Certainly taught her t'be a Fenrir, then, didn't yeh just? Ga' her a good up-close view on just wha' she has to expect.
"Yeh were a fuckin' bully." Imogen does not swear often. "Forcing her because you could. Whatever yeh thought yer intentions were, that's what you were."
[Boy] Alexander fucking Vaughn. His jaw tightens instantly, and he scans the crowd.
And then, Marrick is getting up and going.
"You just got here. Aren't you gonna at least eat something first?"
[Gina McClaren] *Gina is something to see. Alas, everyone is more or less absorbed on their own activities, and so the pretty pikey Laughs and calls to Kyle.*
Dalin.. Dae ye dance?!
[Kyle Velener] Looks up to Gina and shakes his head. HE hasn't danced in years for several reasons. Slows the music down to indicate what sort of dancing he's best at these days
[Alexander] Kate leans in. Alex doesn't even pause to think. He puts his plate down, grabs Kate's head between his greasy, meat-juice-y hands, and lays two giant smacking kisses on her pristine Fangish cheeks.
"Do svidaniya!" he says, cheerful as all shit, mangling the Russian so badly that even had Katherine spoken it, she probably wouldn't have understood.
[Marrick] "Nah, I'll eat in a minute! This is kinda important!"
[Wendy Berber] *Wendy folds her hands on a log and rests her head on them, smiling shyly to Maija and nodding. She would come to the barbecue place, and see her friend. She sighs, looking from Marrick to Boy. There was alot of food there, but she wasn't hungry anymore. Alex Vaughn put her off her appetite.*
[Katherine Bellamonte] (GOD DAMN IT. This window.)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Lukas] The irony is, Danicka's far more visibly angry than Lukas ever was. Her eyes flash. They gleam green as poison. She proclaims it retarded, and the edge of Lukas's mouth turns faintly, wryly up.
"No," he replies. "They think I'm a Shadow Lord."
He takes a hand from behind his head, then. Reaches down and plucks a coarse-cut scrap of meat from his plate, pops it in his mouth. "Zapomeň na to." It's almost offhand, though the smile is genuine. "Je to řešit. Nezáleží na tom teď."
[Boy] "Well alright" He mutters. "But don't expect me to save any."
Then he looks down at his plate, raising his eyebrows. That was a lot of food. He looks up to Wendy as if about to say something, but seeing her now...
"Hey. Everything alright?"
[Decker] Decker's rage spikes sharply -- and again, and again. When Imogen gets to you were a fucking bully, he interrupts.
"That's enough, 'Gen."
Low -- taut. The words hang in the air for a moment. Decker draws a breath. Draws his knees up, sets his elbows on them, digs his thumbs into his eye sockets on either side of the bridge of his nose. Another moment goes by.
"Yer fuckin' point's taken."
[Marrick] She cleared her throat, and then headed over to Sinclair. Okay, just gotta go talk to her, no big, right?
"Hey, Sinclair, you got a minute? I need t'talk t'you 'bout Alex," she said.
[Katherine Bellamonte] Alex kisses Katherine, and she turns into a six foot statue. Her pupils dilate, and a wave of pure panicked energy rolls from her form. She is so still for a moment, overcome with the realization that this miscreant had just laid his filth-ridden mouth on her skin without permission that she cannot even fathom a response.
Then: "Never touch my person without permission, boy." Colder than the Arctic. "Try that again and I shall tear your lungs from your chest."
A tissue is taken from a pocket, and the haughty mistress wipes at both her cheeks gingerly, grimacing.
"I have no concept of where that mouth has been."
[Maija] She moves back toward the table, just in time to see Alex kiss some stranger. She arches a brow, slightly, but says nothing. It's not her place, and she doesn't know why he's kissing the well dressed stranger anyway.
She moves quietly behind the table, and resumes her duties, pausing only to pull on her hoodie. SHe's not close enough to the fire to benefit fully from it's warmth.
[Gina McClaren] *Gina undulates a little more slowly in time to the slow music, before stopping completely. She lifts her hair off the back of her slightly sweaty neck, nodding to Kyle in understanding.*
Only the slow stuff, aye? Reckon tha's hard tae play tae an' dance o the same time.
*She comes to wrap an arm round the goth boy's waist, avoiding the guitar.*
Thank ye fer playin darlin.. ah'm gintae gi a drenk. One fer ye tae.
*And with that she's off, tambourine dropped in the grass, jingling towards the Food area.*
[Syndel] Marrick got up and walked, so the Fury simply sat down a wee bit from Boy and Wendy. Stretching out on the ground, she plucked her hat off her head and set it aside, raking her fingers through her hair before dropping her head on the ground.
[Danicka Musil] "They don't even know what that means," she says, almost snapping it.
She licks her fingertips, though, quieting, looking down at his plate rather than at him. "That's a horrible rumor to spread. But I don't know how it compares to mocking you for cuddling on the grass." So she doesn't. She stays at his side, kneeling, but doesn't lie down next to him. As ever, she mingles English and Czech. She doesn't even hear Alex's mangling of Russian. She reaches for Lukas's beer, glances at him before taking a drink, as though asking permission.
[Kyle Velener] Smiles as he lets the music finish and nods to Gina. When she rushes off he sits down and lets out a sigh as he fiddles with the collar around his neck. Checking to see if anyone was watching as he removes it to wipe the sweat from his neck.
[Sinclair] She's on her way towards the tables of food to get whatever's left, or maybe just get a drink, when she sees the freckled blonde Ahroun Elder headed towards her. Sinclair slows her shuffling steps, then lifts her eyebrows when the two of them are within range of each other. She crosses her arms over her chest, tattoos and metal bared on her ears and biceps.
"What'd he do now?" she asks, sounding neither flat nor tired. She glances past Marrick at Kate, who is not tearing Alex's head off at the moment, then back to the Fury. "Or is he, like, doing it right-fucking-now?"
[Alexander] Alex...
...burst into laughter. Rolling crashing waves of it. He's trying to say something, and it starts with "Oh, you have--" but that's as far as he ever gets before he starts laughing all over again.
Except. Then, Marrick's saying his name, and calling for Sinclair, and Alex is half-bent-over holding onto the food table, clutching his side with the other hand. He forces himself upright, wipes at his eyes, and then picks up his plate of food.
"You got it, Marie. Just figured I'd, y'know, say goodbye the Silver Fang way. You gotta excuse me, I gotta watch this."
And with that, he's ambling over to watch Marrick v. Sinclair. Over him at that. He's so fucking flattered, he could blush.
[Wendy Berber] Yeah. Mostly.
*Wendy draws long limbs under her and shrugs. A glance to where Decker and Imogen were quarreling. The gw kin shifts uncomfortably.*
Are you um, having fun?
*Her nervous shifting stills as she looks to Boy. He was here. And she was safe. Her eyes flick to Syndel a moment.*
[Boy] He looked over at Syndel, slightly ammused.
"Hey. Syndel, right? I thought you gave that thing up."
He picked a slice of meat from the plate, handling it with his bare hands.
"You want some food?"
[Marrick] She's about five and a half feet tall. Blonde haired, blue-eyed Black Fury. She seems well-situated on her feet, and her attention stayed on Sinclair for the time being. She didn't waver, she didn't falter, and she was going through the proper channels.
"Nah, it ain't that-" not acknowledging that Alex wasn't doing something completely assholish right at that moment "-I wanna challenge for him. So, yeah, yer the person to talk to."
[Imogen]She watches him, silent after he cuts her off, the tendon in her jaw flexing.
"Alright," she answers simply. She returns her attention to the fire, picking up her beer bottle from beside her. The cigarette she flicks into the flames, letting it smolder with the kindling.
[Syndel] She rolled her head to the side, looking at Boy. Raising up slowly, she picked up the hat and twirled it on the tip of her finger. " That was my rawhide. This lil thing is new. Can't be walking around with a hat. " She chuckled and scooted over a bit, wiggling around to free up her flask from her back pocket. Plunking the hat on her head, she held out the flask while taking the meat. " Can't turn down food. Want a swig? Home brewed by my Sisters in Maine, good stuff. "
[Sinclair] They're the same height. They stand eye to eye, both of them lethal fighters, both of them with baby blue eyes that make them look a whole lot more harmless than they are. Sinclair's got piercings and ink and a lot of eyeliner harshing her appearance, and Marrick has...
...well. The most adorable freckles Sinclair's ever seen, doesn't she just. Marrick's got a familiar-ish accent, and Sinclair sounds like she's from the West Coast, not the Mid West. At least she does when she's not drunk and not exhausted.
She seems ready to hear what Alex's done most recently to piss off the Garou of Chicago, as though that's something she's dealt with before. She hasn't. Nobody's come to her -- or any other Glass Walker, that she knows of -- to complain about Alex. But that's not what Marrick says. Marrick, who Sinclair knows without a doubt has had at least one raucous and rambunctious night of monkey-love with Alex, says...
...that.
Sinclair blinks. Her arms relax a bit, shoulders rounding, her entire body reacting for a split second with nothing short of utter surprise. She blinks a second time, regaining herself.
"Wait, what?"
Sort of.
"...Why?" she blurts out, and starts to laugh. "I mean, it's not like you saw that ad..." Bewildered, she shakes her head, still on the verge of confused laughter. "Why the hell do you want him?"
[Wendy Berber] *The mention of Maine sees Wendy stiffen like someone had jerked a wire in her spine. She blinks and sits up. She looks to Syn. She didn't recognize her, she's sure she'd remember the Fury with her distinctive facial features. She hugs herself and stares into the fire. This was so far, not a very good bonfire.*
[Katherine Bellamonte] Truth's Meridian stalks up the field, jerks out her chair and sullenly parks herself on it. Reaching down, she takes out a container of cleansing wipes and drags four from the bottle, wiping down her face with hasty determination, her motions somewhat stilted until she has repeated the motion for the forth time and balls them up to toss into her open basket.
The entire area now smells like antiseptic, and she takes out a bottle of hand sanitizer and rubs it, wrist to fingertip.
[Alexander] "'cause I kicked her ass," Alex pipes up. "And she totally loves me now." Pause. "You saw that ad? You interested? I'll even give you a discount."
[Boy] He lets her have the offered meat, naturally, while accepting and inspecting the flask with a sniff of its contents.
"What is it?"
[Gina McClaren] *Gina smiles at Maija, gathering up a couple of drinks, a beer for her and.. well ..what would the saintly goth drink? Milk? She nabs an iced tea. Beggars couldn't be choosers after all. She tilts her head to Maija, singsonging softly*
Nae sae keen on crowds darlin?
[Lukas] "No," Lukas replies, much quieter, "they don't.
"Láska, to už nezáleží nyní." And he sits up, moving the plate off his chest, setting it down in the grass. She takes his beer, and he doesn't nod at her glance. That he doesn't acknowledge her request at all means, in its way, more than permission would have.
"Don't cuddle if it makes you feel exposed, Danička," and he slips between languages almost as effortlessly as she would, and does. "Ale nedělají to, protože se bojíš toho, co bláznů šepot. Nevadí mi, když já jsem podcenil, tak jako tak."
[Maija] Not so keen on crowds - Gina has a gift for the understatement, doesn't she? There's another of those brief barely lived smirks as Maija glances up to meet the other woman's gaze, before dropping her own again to watch what shes' doing.
"Could say that. More so ain't too keen on th'fuckin' Nation." A skinny shoulder lifts in a shrug, as she tucks her hair behind her ear. "But a job's a job."
[Decker] Alright.
Silence, then. Decker lowers his hands after a moment. Another, and he picks up his beer. Knocks it back. Bubbles splash against the bottom, the sides. He sets it down more than half-drained, planting it firmly in the grass.
"You gon' play somethin' on that guitar'a yers?" he says, finally. Maybe it's something of an olive branch.
[Marrick] "Yes, Alex, and you were the best lay I ever had, and I can't picture my short, short life without waking up to your tanlines and morning breath," she told him. She even punctuated it with one of those little kissy-faces that barely-legal teens could pull off.
She isn't phased. She isn't bothered. It's a good thing.
She regards Sinclair, and she inhales.
"Dealing with Alex is a full time job, an' I like him. An' I think he's got a lotta potential and... well... he ain't bad lookin', figure if he knocked me up the worst thing that could happen would be that we'd have short-assed kids."
Half a laugh, but she does pull herself together.
"I like him," a little more serious, "that's why. And I wanna make sure personally that he don't get splattered all over the pavement fer pissin' someone off 'cus it's fun."
[Syndel] She took a bite, then chomped it quickly before speaking. " Their version of moonshine, can't recall the name of it...Got a kick to it though. "
Her eyes saw Wendy's reaction...looked at the Kin for as long as she looked at her...then back to Boy.
[Wendy Berber] *Wendy leans towards Boy and murmurs something in his ear, before leaning back expectantly. Clearly waiting for an answer.*
[Imogen] She shakes her head slightly, "Not tonight."
A flick of a glance, "I think I'm goin' t'head off. See tha' Joss gets a ride home, will yeh? I drove 'er up." She drains her beer and gets to her feet.
[Danicka Musil] Unlike Danicka, Lukas was initially raised speaking one language. He had to learn English along with his family and, truth be told, he learned quite a bit of it from the blonde woman kneeling by him on the grass, though he doesn't remember it. Nor does he remember that for a long time at the very beginning, she spoke nothing but Czech to him. But she was multilingual from the start, and the only language she's ever studied formally is the one that everyone else here speaks.
He sits up, and she sips his beer, frowning as he tells her not to cuddle if it makes her feel 'exposed'. She looks at the treeline, almost out of habit, then back to him. She drinks, and shakes her head as she hands the bottle back over. "I don't need reassuring," she says, a bit shortly, her brows drawn together. Oddly, as terse as the words are, she sounds vaguely uncertain of something.
[Lukas]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 5, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
to Danicka Musil
[Gina McClaren] WEll, reckon yer one o many. Ah gi tha way meself frem time tae time.
*She singsongs, leaning against the table. Considering as she pops the to on a beer and soothes her rampant thirst.*
But they're nae aul bad darlin. Nae really. Aye?
Granted some o em are recht fooking cunts. But tha's jes people. People wha are right cunts and full o' gaia's anger, es aul.
Were ye nae born entae et like?
[Boy] He gave a suspicious look to the flask, and then after Wendy whispered to him, he frowned outright. The flask capped, he handed it back to Syndel.
"Scuse me for a minute. Uh...you can have this."
And with the plates pushed toward Syndel he stands and reaches for the hand of his mate.
"C'mon. maybe we can find someone in the Parking lot."
[Decker] "'Gen," a new note in his tone. He waits for her to look at him. He's still where he is, sitting on the grass with his knees loosely drawn up: a creature of raw bones and devastating musculature, eyes as grey as a storm.
Quite terrifying, she called him.
One has to wonder if that bothered him at all. If he's at all bothered by being what he is -- monstrous.
"Why don'tcha take me back. 'n 'll leave Joss my keys."
[Imogen] Several seconds pass. Her answer is minute; concise. She nods, once, acquiescence, then leans down, picking up her purse and opening the clasp.
"Gi' her mine," she says simply, before adding, in case it was even necessary, "S'the Volvo."
[Wendy Berber] *Spindly fingers slip to Boys and she nods, getting to her feet.*
Um. Bye Syndel.
*A hand raised in a wave as she brushes grass off herself and goes along with Boy, brow furrowing slightly as they move away from the fore.*
Boy? Why are you.. well.. are you mad at me?
[Sinclair] When Alex chimes in not just to offer his explanation of Marrick's request but to ask Sinclair if she'd like a discount on his sperm, Sinclair flicks her eyes at him and then looks back at the Fury with a simple, "Muzzle it, Short Stack, Mommy's talking."
Marrick is sarcastic, making kissy faces at the kinsman Sinclair so blithely insults, but the Glass Walker seems rather sharply serious now. She keeps her arms crossed over her chest as the Ahroun details why she wants to challenge to claim him. He's a lot to deal with. She likes him. He's got potential. He's attractive. She wouldn't mind having his cubs, though that seems the least serious thing she says of the lot.
She likes him.
A muscle in Sinclair's cheek jumps gently as her jaw tenses.
"Well," she says, almost drawling it -- and there's a bit of a twang to the word, enough that she might be mocking Marrick's lingering Okie accent -- "at least you decided to try challenging instead of poaching, like your Alpha." She unfolds her arms now, letting her hands fall to her sides, thumbs hooking in the pockets of her jeans. Her head tips to one side. She considers Marrick a moment, then -- without so much as a glance at Alex to see how he feels about all this -- straightens up again and shakes her head. "Yeeeaaah...no."
And with that, she passes by Marrick, heading again for the tables.
[Maija] She snorts, slightly, more an expulsion of breath, quick and sharp, than any sound. She glances at Gina, and shakes her head. "Ain't met but one or two I'd count as worth anything at all."
She sighs, and then looks up at Gina. "Sorry. I was born into it yeah- but ain't be anythin' pretty at all. But I got my reasons for thinkin' the way I do."
[Syndel] She blinked once, twice then took back her flask, uncapping it to take a swig before giving him and Wendy a wave. Sitting up straight, she picked up the plate and started eating...and watching. Interesting night...
[Decker] Decker beckons for Imogen to toss him the keys with a clap of his hands. When they come glittering through the air, he closes both hands over it, catching it solidly in his palms.
"'ll meetcha in tha lot," he says, and gets to his feet.
[Decker] (IN KAHSEENO I TRUST, BITCHES)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 3, 4, 8 (Failure at target 6)
[Decker] (FENRIR DON'T FAIL!)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7)
[Marrick] No.
Sinclair told her no. She tensed, and it was her turn to turn and regard Sinclair.
"Why not?" she said. And suddenly her voice had quite the edge to it. And suddenly there was elegant tension riding her form, and it's the only thing that's elegant about her. Sinclair walks past her, and the Fury pursues. She's been mocked, yes, and she's keeping that temper in check.
That's all she says.
[Kyle Velener] Slipping his collar back on Kyle picks up his guitar and starts playing softly.
[Danicka Musil] [Perception + Empathy, Reflexive]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 6, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
to Lukas
[Imogen] She tosses the keys at Decker at his clap, then steps way, sliding her purse up her arm. She leaves the beer bottle where it is - then heads to the performance area to retrieve her guitar.
[Sinclair] Sinclair stops as short as someone trying to get a tailgater off their ass. She looks over her shoulder at Marrick first, then turns, frowning. "You want a list?"
[Marrick] "Yeah, spell it out fer me. Y'don't think I got good reasons an' I wanna know why."
[Lukas] Lukas is reaching out for another piece of steak when Danicka replies. It's the tone of her voice that makes him look at her, and he looks for a long moment.
She looks, too. She looks deeper than he ever could, in less time than he ever would, and without needing to think twice about it. She can see at once that he's regretful; that he didn't mean for her to feel patronized or coddled or handled. She can see at once that --
Lukas puts down the scrap of meat, uneaten. He leaves his beer where it is, his food where it is, and he gets to his feet. His collar is pulled a little awry. There's grass clinging to the seat of his jeans, which he dusts haphazardly away.
Then he reaches his hand out to her.
"Let's walk."
[Gina McClaren] *Gina sighs and tosses long hair back behind her, nodding.*
Aye. reckon yer smart about et, O the very least, aye? Take care o yerself loves, an'.. mayhaps dinnae gi' up on them aul jes yet.
*A wink, and she's headed back to the performance area. She flops down with a jingle and offers him an ice tea.*
Hmm.. reckon ah'm fooking tuckered darlin..
*Sings the curvy kin of Kyle's tribe, huffing back a yawn. That done, she curls along sidehim, rests her head on his knee and shuts her eyes. Seemingly content to fall asleep listening to the strum of his fingers against his guitar.*
[Decker] Decker catches the keys -- fumbles it, and then catches it midair -- and gets to his feet.
He leaves his refuse where it is, too. Someone'll pick it up. His contribution to the Great War wasn't picking up trash.
Joss is where she's been most the night -- a few paces away, hanging out by the fire, her young face caught in the glow of the flames, quietly pleased. Sometimes Decker sees that look on her face and wonders what it's like to be so damn happy all the time. To be that happy at all.
He drops to a crouch beside her, holding the keys out without a word. Only after she takes it does he say, "Yer gon' hafta drive yerself back. I'm'on give 'Gen a ride."
[Maija] She nods, slightly, though one might note she doesn't actually promise anything. There's nothing to promise, and she's part of a nation that doesn't give two shits about her - it's often hard to figure why she should give anything in return.
They all leave, or die, anyway. In the end, she'll be a crazy cat lady, leaving next to the BBQ place that always smells like meat. She does, however, say softly. "Thanks for the J. Appreciate it."
Then goes about her duties again.
[Kyle Velener] Chuckles softly at Gina's comment as he gives a thumbs up. Takes the tea and sips it before speaking in that soft tone he has.
[i]"Nice job."[/b]
Smiles as he returns to his playing softly as he relaxes
[Sinclair] "That's what I think, is it?" Sinclair asks, squaring her shoulders slightly as she faces Marrick. She doesn't have close to the Ahroun's Rage. What makes her look like she's about to tear the other female's throat out has nothing to do with that supernatural fury that is ignited by love as much as temper. It's something else, something that has the slightly lazy cant of her head and slow, viscous warmth of her words sounding more threatening than it would if she were... well. Human.
"He's Glass Walker Kin," Sinclair says flatly. "He's not up for grabs because you have a crush. Wendy can stay with Brother of the Lost because she genuinely seems to care about him." She shakes her head. "I'm sure as hell not obligated to even allow you to challenge for him." She glances at Alex, then back at Marrick. "Especially since he doesn't seem to give a fuck about you."
She lifts her head, returning her neck to the anatomical position and eyeing the now-irritated Full Moon. "Hell, the shit he's said about you, the fact that you 'like' him just tells me you probably have barely enough self-respect to drag yourself out of bed in the morning." Her thumbs leave her jeans pockets. "And by the way, maybe you should just be happy I'm not taking it as an insult that you think you need to step in and protect his fragile little ass 'personally'."
[Imogen] She picks up the instrument, sliding the strap over her body, adjusting it to fit her torso. She does not make much time for farewells, though she knows a few who remain, merely crossing out of the clearing and toward the parking lot.
[Wendy Berber] *Wendy offers a small wave to Marrick as she passes. Likely she wouldn't extend such a pleasant goodbye if the nervous kin had any idea that the fury was attempting to claim Alexander Vaughn, - Superprick. Regardless, hand in hand, Boy and Wendy slip to the parking lot, and somehow, likely with Kin, make their great escape.*
[Joss Lehrer] Quietly pleased. Her gram once said it was like she heard happy music in her head all the time - it's something odd, different, and were it not for the sing of purity in her blood, no one would believe for a second she was Fenrir. Until she gets pissed, of course.
If she's heard the argument between her Jarl and his mate, she made zero indication of it. Most likely, she's lost in her own thoughts so deeply, that she hadn't paid them any mind at all, until Decker heads her way. At the last Bonfire - such movement would have her sitting up fully, suddenly mindful of her posture, and eager to please. She's no less eager, but a far cry more relaxed now. Now she's content in her place, and after the past months, has finally gotten used to not jumping out of her skin with eagerness that he's noticed her.
Sorta. Somewhere there's still that pleased flush of 'I'm an EAGLE' all newly excited and thrilled.
He crouches by her, and she leans her head back to look up at him, reclined as she is on her elbows. A shift of weight, and she lifts a hand to take the keys. "You mean I don't get to drive the 'Cuda?" She chuckles though, and tucks Imogen's keys into her pocket. "Probably a good call, since I can't drive stick."
[Syndel] It was getting late, seems like folks was ready to slide out and head to the bed or whereever. That meant the Fury had little to watch...save her tribemate and Sinclair argue. She finished her food, stood up with her beer and watched-n-listened.
[Danicka Musil] She has always been more difficult for him to read than the reverse. Danicka doesn't even have to try to see through him, often sees deep enough that she captures what he hasn't yet acknowledged. He's better at it, now, even if it still takes effort, even if he still has to work to read her at all. The occasions when he misunderstands her so profoundly that they end up all but spitting nails at one another are fewer and farther between.
He's more patient. She's more in control.
The plate and beer go to the grass. Danicka feels a momentary twinge of thought for the Brotherhood employees who will be cleaning up after all this, until she remembers that they're getting paid. She looks up at him as he rises, then takes his hand without hesitation. She uses it for leverage almost as a formality, brushing off her knees with her other hand.
Danicka walks with him, her hold on his hand maintaining a certain casual coolness. She neither interlocks their fingers nor pulls away. She goes with him wherever he walks...
...unless, or until, he begins heading for the woods.
[Kyle Velener] After Gina had fallen asleep he uses his bag to rest her head on as he stands up. Stretching he makes his way towards the drinks. Looking around to see who was left.
[Decker] Decker's face looks right, somehow, in the flickering light of the fire. Forget the jeans, the wifebeater, the thug attire, the closeshaved head. Forget all that. See through to the bloodline, the breeding. Imagine the furs of prey-animals and predators alike draped on his shoulders; the warrior-braids in his hair. Imagine him in his past life, and the one before that, somewhere in the cold north, fierce in the light of a gathering fire.
He turns to Joss. It's gone -- he's Decker again, no more or less. And the edges of his mouth flicker faintly up.
"Don't wantcha ta crash my fuckin' baby," he says. A pause. "Ya know Andrew? Tha Coggie that acts like a fuckin' Red Talon?"
[Marrick] (Be good, kiddo)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Joss Lehrer] She laughs softly, easily. That always get her looked at funny, but she never seems to mind. She arches a brow, the piercing there catching the firelight as she grins up at him. "Wouldn't crash it myself. Awaken it and let it drive itself home... then it'd be the Spirit's fault, not mine."
Nods - because this makes perfect sense to the Godi. Why shouldn't it?
She tips her head, slightly. "Yeah, seen him around, once or twice a few months ago, then tonight. Never met him officially like, though. What about him?"
[Marrick] She doesn't really do much. She just listens, and takes her criticisms. She clenches her jaw, clenches her fists, and she looks Sinclair dead in the eye. Marrick doesn't look away, she doesn't falter, and she seems more than content to stare her in the eyes. Sinclair is a predator. Something about her is terrible and terrifying, and Marrick Fisher doesn't back away.
Everything about Sinclair says that she'd tear her throat out.
Everything about Marrick's gaze says I dare you.
"You talk a lot," she says, "y'don't say much."
She clenched her fists tightly enough that she felt like she might draw blood. She doesn't bear her throat, she doesn't give any indication that she wants to back down. The Fury's voice is tense, and she is trying her damnedest to hold back.
"An' you should be thankful that I ain't takin' offense. We're even."
[Sinclair] "Nah," Sinclair says, the word sliding slowly out of her mouth, "you just don't like what you're hearin'."
[Lukas] Lukas is, indeed, heading for the woods. This is evident from the beginning. He doesn't meander. He doesn't wander around the fire, chitchatting, showing her off to his friends. Look, she's so beautiful. Look, she's so purebred. Look, she's mine.
He doesn't do that. Any of that. He's never flaunted her, and it was a matter of discretion then, a matter of respect for his pack. He never will flaunt her, and now it's a matter of privacy. A matter of respect for her, and for himself. Lukas heads straight for the treeline, and it's only when he feels her hesitate, feels the sudden tension in their linked hands, that he stops.
And turns. And starts to ask, "Co--" when it falls on him like a ton of bricks, flickers through his eyes like a laser.
He takes a step back, and toward her. They're barely around the bonfire, to the right of the stage. His free hand moves. It doesn't rise to her face, though it might've anywhere else.
"Nebuďte vyděšený."
[Decker] "You 'waken that car, I ain't never gon' hear tha end'a it," Decker replies, offhand.
He yawns -- jawcrackingly. Shakes his head at the end of it, sharply as a dog from water. Then, "He's a fuckin' retard sometimes. Then sometimes he's a good Theurge. Great fighter. Ain't got no pack.
"Long time ago he tried out fer tha Eagles. Ain't made it. Did somethin' stupid, cain't 'member what. Seems better now, but I ain't sure. Was gon' axe ya ta keep an eye on 'im. Tell me whatcha think."
[Kyle Velener] Grabbing a few left over sodas, Kyle makes his way towards the fire. Popping the top of a can as he walks
[Marrick] "Fair point," she said. And a pause. "An' me flippin' my shit ain't gonna change things."
Another pause.
"But you sayin' it don't make it right."
A third pause.
"I wanna beer. You want one?"
[Sinclair] Sinclair re-crosses her arms over her chest. Marrick changes the subject to beer, and she just shakes her head. "No, I don't want a beer. Exactly what am I wrong about, Marrick?"
[Marrick] "That I ain't got any self-respect," she says, "I got enough not to get into it over somethin' petty, and I got enough not to make a damned fool of myself out here."
[Joss Lehrer] She laughs again "And now I'm even more tempted..." Of course, she wouldn't. Well, maybe she would, but not without permission... she thinks. Back to the job at hand.
Tried out before, didn't make it. Sometimes a retard, but fights good. Occasionally a good Theurge, too. "Alright. I'm making the rounds anyway, about this dreaming shit - will check him out. Speaking of - you or Imogen dream anymore? Has she since the cleansing?"
[Danicka Musil] Walking around the field is fine. Walking over by the stage is fine. And they walk without saying a word to one another, or pausing to talk to anyone else. Most people are winding down now, anyway. Someone strums a guitar over here. Someone smokes weed elsewhere. Someone picks through the last of the kolace over there. A couple of blondes argue between field and tables.
It isn't until they're around the edge of the stage that Danicka turns her hand in Lukas's and laces her fingers in between his, hiding the gesture in shadows and distance, looking at him out of the corner of her eyes briefly, catching him in profile. She looks at him when he doesn't know she's looking at him, and a part of her tucks that away inside, treasuring it in the secret-loving way of a gifted liar.
But then he keeps walking. And they're going towards the woods, and she knows why, and she knows that there have been no monstrous crashing sounds, no trees breaking in two, no bloodcurdling screams. But that is new information. The fear that has her steps hitching and halting on the grass is far, far older. She trusts it more. She tenses, and begins wiggling her hand away from Lukas's in blind, instinctive rejection of where he's leading her, of what she knows is there.
His words make her let out a huff of mirthless laughter that would be a bark if it had any voice to it. "Je to tam," she insists, looking into the dark that three months ago she walked into without even caring for the brambles and stickers.
[Decker] A nod, short and simple, the same lazy lift of his chin it's always been. And then a shake of his head -- no, he hasn't dreamt again. Nothing like that, anyway.
She goes on. Asks about Imogen. And Decker turns away, but not before Joss catches the flicker between his eyebrows, the line there deepening.
There's a pause.
"Ain't talked ta 'Gen 'bout it," he says, which is the truth, but not the whole truth. Another moment goes by before he adds, "Ain't seen her much lately." He dusts his hands off, straightens. "Ya want me ta have her talk ta ya? 'r axe her myself?"
[Sinclair] "Dude," Sinclair says, shaking her head. "You're challenging for a guy who used you, and the fact that he fucked you, just to piss off Boy. Who from what I hear -- and this was before Alex mentioned it, everybody is talking about it -- actually did beat you up. No, I don't buy your reasons for challenging for him. I think you're bullshitting me, and all that says is that you don't think your reasons are good enough, which means you don't have a lot of self respect."
She throws up her hands, as animated now as she was the first night she came out here, all that time ago. "What the hell'd you think was gonna happen? You challenge for a Kin who doesn't want you, I say okie-doke, I beat the ever-loving fuck out of you, and... what? You somehow don't come out looking like a dumbass?"
[Kyle Velener] Wandering up to the fire he nods to those there as he sits down and starts on his second drink
[Joss Lehrer] She notes the look, but doesn't ask about it, doesn't probe to see if there's anything deeper, some reasoning behind it. Mostly, because it's none of her business, and would be shot down for prying even if she dared.
She shakes her head slightly. "No need for a drawn out conversation 'bout unless she's dreamed since the cleansing. If she ain't" oooooh, The Eagles are a bad influence on her grammar, aren't they? "No need to fuss. If she has, I'll come round an' talk to her. Just let me know either way. You two ain't the only ones - and whatever it is, it's getting stronger. So just let her know to call me if she has or does again."
A pause, and the return of her smile. "And thank her for the ride for me, will ya?"
[Decker] "Yeah okay." It's offhand; lazy. So much of the modi is cloaked with a sort of thuggish laziness, a carnivorous languor, like lions at midday. He cracks his neck to the side, then turns to go. "'ll see ya back at tha packhouse, Goss'mer Wing."
He starts off, a long stride, low to the ground. Passing Kyle, the modi gives the kin a nod up. "Good playin' back there," he says.
He doesn't stop to chat. Not the type. He heads down the embankment, back to the road, the parked cars, the Barracuda.
[Kyle Velener] Looks to Decker and gives a thumbs up with a broad smile. He's just finished his second soda and gives a sigh. He really let himself dehydrate tonight
[Joss Lehrer] "Night, Silence."
The last bonfire, she still had to struggle to remember not to call him Mr. Rohl, still was remembering that she was here to fight beside more than a legend, more than the hero of tales and stories - but beside a man, a Garou, a warrior just like herself.
Well, not just like her, but whatever. She's come a long way since then, settled in, made herself at home, made a name for herself, mostly good even. Maybe that all it takes, maybe that's why she can settle back on her elbows, and watch the fire, quietly pleased.
[Maija] Things have started to die down, though there are still grazers at the food table, and little groups of folks here and there. Through them she wanders, a garbage bag in hand, and collects the refuse left behind. Garou don't serve the nation by picking up their own trash, after all. That's what kinfolk are for... especially ones like Maija. She doesn't disturb anyone, and is largely ignorable as she weaves in and out, near silently, and cleans up around those that are left.
[Marrick] "Whelp," she starts, "I'd look like a dumbass anyway, now don't I?"
A pause.
"And. The way I thought of it? I challenge you, you say okay, I hand you your ass, narrowly. And win."
[Kyle Velener] Seeing Maija doing some rounds he looks around the fire and shrugs absently as he stands and begins to help in the clean up. A nod given to people as he passes them. That constant smile never seeming to falter.
[Lukas] When she looks at him out of the corner of her eye, she sees him without his knowing it. He looks different like this: slightly, indescribably. Lukas still looks like himself, of course: the black hair, the pale eyes, the bones of his face, the stature and form. But different, too, when his attention isn't focused on her. With his eyes clear and his attention forward, his stride confident and purposeful, he looks more like Wyrmbreaker; less like Lukas.
It's a little like this in the mornings, when he sleeps the night in her bed. It's like this, and nothing like this, when he's asleep and she wakes; when he doesn't look like Lukas, or Wyrmbreaker, or anything at all except:
hers.
Then they're behind the stage, in the shadows, and she's stopping and she's not looking at him anymore. She's looking into the darkness where the monster went, and she's telling him Je to tam like a child afraid of the darkness in the closet, and he turns too. He faces her.
"Nezáleží na tom, jestli je to tam." Lukas does touch her now, his hand carefully to her face, turning her to look at him. "Nebude to bolet ty. Budu nedovolím to."
[Maija] She blinks as Kyle starts to help, and she pauses.. "Ya ain't gotta do that.." but she doesn't exactly turn down the help, either. Instead, she gestures to one side. "already made the rounds there - if ya wanna hit the other side go for it."
Makes her life easier, not having to be around quite so many, and also makes the job go faster too.
[Kyle Velener] Gives a thumbs up to Maija and sets to work following the directions she gave him. He didn't mind helping since he'd been taught to always help clean up and some of the messes he's helped clean up in the past made this party seem tame.
[Sinclair] Sinclair laughs in Marrick's face. "Sure. You couldn't beat up Alex. I'm fucking quivering over here." She shakes her head. "And yeah. You sure don't look that good, coming to me to try and get a guy who apparently has nothing but disdain for you."
She huffs a breath through her nostrils. "You don't even have an answer for that, do you? I keep bringing it up, but you just keep glossing over it." Sinclair looks over at the Kinfolk in question, who has been remarkably and almost suspiciously silent up til now. She looks back at Marrick. Something flickers in her eyes
that is not quite mercy. She takes a step closer, lowers her voice.
"Why'd you really want him, Marrick?"
[Maija] Yeah, garbage and such is nothing - considering what she helped Dr. Slaughter clean up a few days ago. Teach her to walk down that particular road on the way home, right?
It doesn't take too long, and she's back at the tables again, starting to consolidate plates of food, and stacking the empties so that they can be loaded into the trucks and hauled back for washing. All this she does without saying hardly a word to anyone. Not that it's surprising to any who've actually met her.
[Kyle Velener] With the majority of the cleaning up done, Kyle makes his way over to help Maija at the tables. Looks to her and smiles as he points at her and then offers a thumbs up, his way of asking if she was ok and needed anything.
[Alexander] Alex is, indeed, remarkably and almost suspiciously silent.
Maybe he's too damn gobsmacked at what's being tossed back and forth. Or maybe he just, for once, has decided opening his mouth at this juncture might get his fool head torn off.
[Marrick] (WP: because not punching people in the face over stuff is a good idea)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Maija] She blinks, slightly, and gives him a second glance. "Ya ain't talk much, do ya."
Hello, captain obvious. But she interprets his meanin' well enough. "M'good. Thanks."
[Kyle Velener] Points at his throat and the collar around it and grins. He was used to that reaction from people. Cracks open another soda and sips from it. His voice is barely audible as he smiles with a slight grimace on his face.
"Have my....moments."
[Maija] She nods, slightly, dropping her gaze to his throat and back again. "Well, ain't gotta strain on my account. Ain't one for idle chat neither."
And through it all, she simply keeps working. Clearly she's well used to playing the part of cleanup/waitress/caterer/feedingthehungy. What else is one of her ilk good for, hm?
[Danicka Musil] It was so different, back in February, when Lukas nearly frenzied in front of her. Then they were not in open air, the moon was not comfortingly dark, and he was just a few spare feet away from her rather than missing and gone in the woods. And Danicka's stronger now than she was then, but she looks into the woods like they'll drown her if she enters. She speaks about the monster inside them like it will leap out and tear her apart if she steps out of the edges of the bonfire's light, and yet when he sat on the floor of a motel room and told her she should absolutely get away from him, she stayed.
Danicka draws her hands back to her and folds her arms, tucks her hands against her sides beneath her biceps, staring not at the man touching her face but at the woods, at the unknown
or rather, the intimately and devastatingly known.
Even when he turns her to look at him, her jaw tenses and she keeps trying to watch the darkness, which is somehow more frightening than he was even months upon months ago, even when he literally threw her from him as fur appeared and vanished across his arms while he struggled for control. Danicka meets his eyes, and he looks a little like himself, and a little like a stranger, for a moment.
She can't remember the last time she woke up and found him still lying in her bed.
The last time he said something like that, though, she laughed. Danicka doesn't laugh, now. She exhales a breath it didn't look like she was holding, and closes her eyes, pulling her face out of his grasp with a slow lift of her chin and twist of her neck. She steps closer, and keeps her arms around herself rather than reaching for his hand, but she turns so that her shoulder is against his side, so that she is facing the woods. Her eyes open.
[Marrick] She looks like she might just bite Sinclair. Everything about her rides in tension, and she looks at Sinclair. More than looks at her, and something flares. Something spikes, and tension rides higher, but her expression doesn't falter.
Sinclair was very, very good at saying things that would get a girl good and riled up. That said, she's very calm. Or, at the very least, she is collected enough to keep from doing anything too stupid.
And it comes back to the question of why does she want him? Even though he doesn't want her?
Why do you really want him?
"I don't know," she replies, it couldn't be all for spite... could it? "I just do."
She looks at Sinclair, and she takes a step to turn away, "And I ain't droppin' it."
Unless interrupted, she continues on to leave.
[Sinclair] "Fuckin' pathetic," is all Sinclair has to say, shaking her head at Marrick's departure.
[Kyle Velener] Nods as he chuckles softly while working. Yeah he didn't talk much and that was part of his problem. Not talking ment it hurt when he did talk and he didn't talk cause it hurt. Ah the bitter irony of being normal.
[Joss Lehrer] She finally stretches, and then flows to a stand. She looks around to see who still remains, and then pulls the keys out of her pocket, and heads toward the parking lot. Soon an is heard in the distance, and she pulls away.
And drives very carefully home. After all, this is IMOGEN's car. No way is she gonna mess it up, even if it is the old volvo.
[Sinclair] [+8]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7
[Marrick] (7+1d10)
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4
[Marrick] (-1 rage to insta hispo, -1 wp resist pain
action 1a: bite
action 1b: bite again
rage 1: keep on biting
rage 2: aaaaand because it's a good idea? continue on with the biting)
[Kyle Velener] Finishing with the cleaning up he wanders back towards the fire. Stiffling a yawn as he sits down.
[Sinclair] [-1 Rage to Hispo
1a: Fur Gnarl
1b: Bite Gnarled Spot (WP)
Rage: Bite
Rage: Hamstring]
[Sinclair] [Fur Gnarl: Dex + Brawl]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Lukas] So he lowers his hand to his side.
So Lukas stands where he is, pretending he's rooted to the ground, pretending he's an oak or a sycamore, a tree that she can hold her weight on, when really he's flame and fire, rage and molten heat like the center of the sun.
Her shoulder is against his side. He's solid, but not still. She can feel him breathing against her arm, the slow expansion and contraction of his chest. Following the line of her gaze, he turns his head as well. Looks into the dark, the wilderness where wild things lurked.
Distantly, they can hear snaps and growls. It's not Danicka's imagination.
Lukas doesn't move, though. He doesn't press closer, nor put his arm around her, nor urge her forward or back. He stays where he is. He waits, breathing quietly, to see where she goes. What she does.
[Sinclair] [Damage]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Marrick] (soak, I think? -2 because that's unpleasant)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 9 (Failure at target 6)
[Marrick] (and the 2 for the first)
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 2 (Botch x 1 at target 6)
[Sinclair] [1b: Biting gnarled spot. Dex + Brawl -3]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 5, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Sinclair] [Damage. Will pull at Incap if necessary.]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Marrick] (please please please please soak!)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 6, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Marrick] (Bite 1a: dex3+hispo2+brawl4= 9 -2 (split), diff 5)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 5, 8, 8, 8 (Success x 5 at target 5)
[Marrick] (damage!)
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Sinclair] [Soak]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 4, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Marrick] (bite 2!)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 6, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 5)
[Marrick] (damage!)
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 3, 4, 6, 8, 8, 10, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[Sinclair] [Soak +2]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Marrick] (pulling whatever is necessary to not accidentally kill sinclair)
[Marrick] It was quick.
Bones to Dust wasn't screwing around, it seemed. And, aparently, neither was Warcry. One speaks harsh words, the other turns to walk away, the words fucking pathetic are uttered, and they are all that the Fury hears.
In an instant, they're nothing but a blur of fur and teeth. Both are large, dire wolves. Both are fast- the Glass Walker is more built for agility. She is fast, she has the edge. She sees when the Fury shifts, she sees her intentions, and she reacts accordingly. Bones to Dust is a creature built for endurance. For taking a beating and for her defense.
Take that away, and she is nothing.
Warcry goes for her, she strips away defenses, and she lands a bite so solid that it would have hampered her attack. She would feel this in the morning, definitely.
In the end, though, it is raw anger, and it is a damaged ego that fuels the Fury. It makes her seek out the tender spots on the Glass Walker- she barely nips her the first time, barely gives the Galliard a scratch.
The second bite, however, is worse. The second bite is designed and targetted and poised and lucky. It's solid, and practically cracks bone. She rips Warcry's belly open. She looks as though she might not hold back, as though she might just finish her off.
It takes a lot to keep Bones to Dust from doing so.
Once all is said and done, she places her jaws around Sinclair's throat. she doesn't bite down, but she demands submission none the less.
It's all done in less than twelve seconds.
[Alexander] "Jesus Christ," Alexander can't keep his big mouth shut anymore. "What the fuck was that?"
[Sinclair] There's no submission from the Galliard. Not because she wouldn't, though that's debatable. She doesn't submit when Marrick closes her jaws around her throat because she's a bloody heap on the ground. Kinfolk from the Brotherhood and the community are standing as far from the rapid fight as they can, just... staring. Sinclair's blood glistens on the grass, livid red-black in the firelight.
She'd have an answer for Alex, if she were conscious. As it is, her throat is limp in Marrick's mouth, her legs are limp against the ground. She reverts slowly, melting into her birth form, the jeans and the t-shirt both ripped to shreds from the shift, everything underneath in equal tatters underneath. It's hard to see under the blood, but there's a tattoo on her left hip, some kind of large, ornate scarring on her back, a steel ring through her right nipple, a winding tattoo of some kind around her right thigh, and all that on top of the metal and ink that's visible when she's dressed.
She isn't dead. She's damn close, though.
[Kyle Velener] Hearing a commotion he stands up and looks around. Listening to people as he goes to see what's happening.
[Danicka Musil] Perhaps unsurprisingly, Danicka doesn't go forward or backward. She leans against him the way she once leaned against -- yes -- an oak tree, one massive and gnarled that even in childhood took up a large portion of her backyard. She used to lean against it and sneak cigarettes after her mother died, when she cut her hair from waist-length waves and curls
(that Laura loved)
to a near-bob that backfired, that only made her look more like the deceased Ahroun, that reminded her of the straight-haired Lord so strongly the only way she could have broken the illusion in the mirror would have been to dye her hair some other color, which she never did, which she never could have gotten away with.
She used to kneel under that tree and trail her hands in a child-sized pool of water while the babies played in summertime, cooling off in the yard because even at night the interior of the house was almost stifling, and her dress would stick to the back of her neck and stick between her shoulderblades and stick to her thighs.
Danicka does not lean against Lukas like an oak, though. She feels the warm solidity of him at her side, indeed, and she feels his heart beating through his ribcage, and she hears the snapping jaws and snarling of wolves behind her, and her eyes close again. She turns her head to bury her face in his side, sighing rather than shuddering or shivering, though the temperature is dropping steadily.
"Věřím vám."
[Marrick] After awhile, she releases. After awhile, the Fury fades into more of a blonde-haired, blue eyed motif instead of one that was much better suited for battle. Sinclair can't submit, and for now Marrick had managed to bite back the almost overwhelming urge to continue this and finish it all off.
She wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand- she looked horrific. All pretty and with her freckles and nice complection and athletic frame. The Fury looked around briefly, and she didn't answer Alex. Not immediately, anyway.
She'd had this fight before, but in her birth form with one Katherine Bellamonte. She had sat on top of the Silver Fang and landed one good, solid blow to the face that cracked her head against the ground hard enough to stain her hair red for a moment. The fight had been discussed, all that it proved was that her opponent had a sharp tongue, and Marrick had a hot head.
What the fuck was that?
"That's what it looks like when y'don't hold back," she growls "Fuckin' pathetic my ass."
She looked around for a minute.
"We gotta get a ride home," she says. States.
[Kyle Velener] Seeing the remains of the fight he looks to Marrick and then to Sinclair. The concern that someone was hurt showing on his face. Holds his hands up slightly and makes a few gestures as if requesting to be allowed to tend the wounded. Sometimes not being able to be heard sucks big time.
[Alexander] Alex looks --
surprisingly unruffled by the massive bloodshed. Then again, this is the man who regularly beats opponents bloody and bruised in a goddamn cage. He looks sort of aghast. And he's looking at Marrick like she grew another head.
"Who the hell is 'we'? Whose home? What the fuck?" He flicks Kyle a glance. "Jesus Christ. Go ahead, man. You got a car?"
[Lukas] His arm does come around her now, a firm circle that clasps her against his ribs.
(Kde ona patří.)
"Vím," he says, quietly. "No tak."
There his arm remains unless and until she draws away. Step by step he flanks her toward the woods -- the same forests and trees that, three months ago, Danicka slipped into silent as a sylph; plunged through wild as a fox.
Or a wolf.
It's different this time. Step by step, yard by yard; slow, then quickening, the stride lengthening until they were walking at a normal clip, a hiker's clip. The trees reach for them. The shadows envelope them.
[Kyle Velener] Shakes his head as he motions that he has a motorbike and then runs off to get his backpack. Returning as quickly as he can run he moves over to Sinclair and opens his pack up. First aid kit pulled out as he sets to work making sure she doesn't bleed out.
[Marrick] "Go for it," she said to Kyle.
She then looked at Alex, and she was all but staring at him. "When she wakes up, tell her that she needs to watch her fuckin' mouth."
the Fury then turns and heads off to the woods. It wasn't like she was going to be able to walk home a bloody, disgusting mess. At least, not on this side of the gauntlet.
[Alexander] "Hold on a second." Those damn Walkers. They just don't know when to stop bothering Marrick. Alex does one better: he actually follows her. "What you said back there. I mean, about me. You mean all that?"
[Kyle Velener] Kyle Patch Job
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Marrick] "If you're gonna fuckin' laugh at me, I ain't in the mood," she told him. She's not quite fuming, but she's proven tonight that she has a bit of a problem exercising restraint tonight. The Fury doesn't stop walking, though.
[Kyle Velener] Oh this was fun. HE waves at someone for some water and sets to work. Silently he washes some of the blood off and does what he can to close the larger wounds. Given it was night time and he was exhausted he wasn't going to be working at his best.
[Alexander] "I'm not laughing," Alex shoots back. "I'm pretty dead fucking serious, Marrick, and I know you're exhausted from tearing shit up and all, but will you look at me?"
[Danicka Musil] Slowly, slowly, they head in a familiar direction.
And it is familiar, even with this much time between one night and the other, one new moon and this one. Danicka leans into the circle of his arm, at first because she must stay close in order to believe him, as she said she did. In order to trust what he said. But slowly, gradually, step after step, she remembers this part of the woods and the way the branches hugged her dress, scratched her legs and ankles. She unfolds her arm and steps away, finds his hand in the dark, laces their fingers together once more into a twining physical knot.
After awhile, she walks beside him, not hiding against him nor slipping ahead of him as before. She looks up at the sky, looks over at him again. Branches brush against her jeans, tug at her sweater, but she keeps walking with him, smiles a little after awhile, but it's lost in the dark.
"Možná příště, budu lehl si do trávy s vámi," she murmurs. She thinks for a moment. Adds: "Budu muset přinést deku."
to Lukas
[Marrick] She stopped, and she turned around and looked at him. She didn't have to look up too far; there was only a couple inches difference between the two of them. It was odd, because she doesn't even seem to notice that she's a bloody mess. She doesn't notice that muscle tissue is torn and if she moves right (or wrong) one can see bone. Marrick, at that moment, doesn't even seem to notice that her neck and part of her hair is stained with Sinclair's blood.
She's quiet for awhile.
"Yeah," she tells him, and she looks him in the eyes when she says it, "I did mean it. And I meant all the shit I said a week ago, too."
Nerves are raw, and she's expecting the worst. She's tired, but she's built for endurance. She stands out of sheer desire to do so.
[Sinclair] Truth be told, the Galliard would've woken up on her own in a few more minutes anyway. If she were mortal, she'd be dead right now, or quickly on her way to it. Even in her breed form she'll regenerate in a matter of days, and that's without help. Kyle speeds up a process that's already begun with about as much impact as blowing on an already-thrown paper airplane would have, but it still brings Sinclair back around to consciousness.
"Holy fuck!" is the first thing she says, and it's barely coherent, because the words are gurgling in her throat past blood. She's torn open, and absorbent pads and gauze are being applied. She doesn't know who the fuck this goth kid is, but she's woken up to so many various hands trying to heal her before she doesn't immediately kick him in the face. She couldn't if she tried, right now.
Sinclair lets out a groan, rolling forward slightly, spitting out some of the blood. She can barely move. She doesn't bother to take her time to shift. Blowing through the last of the gift the moon gave her, she ripples instantly into a smaller version of the form she fought in, becoming a leanly muscled wolf with fur all black and gray, her ruff and ears tipped in white. There's still metal here and there through her flesh, rings in her ears, symbols that mean almost nothing to anyone but her.
It takes all her energy just to roll over and shift. She finds Marrick and Alex by sight and sound, looking blearily at them as she lies there in lupus, a low growl vibrating in her throat.
[Kyle Velener] When Sinclair stirs, Kyle lets out a sigh and moves back with a smile. Least she's capable of shifting which saves him from trying to save her life. He's really got to get better at learning how to patch people up. When she lays there looking at the pair he shifts so she can see his face. That blasted grin seeming odd on a goth as he tilts his head while looking at her. His voice barely above a whisper as he grimaces a little while speaking.
"Take it...easy now....Need anything?"
[Alexander] "Shit," Alexander mutters. The look on his face, you'd think someone just told him his dog got run over. Or his brother.
A period of time goes by.
Then: "Look." He's not good at this sort of thing, and for all anyone knows he's only going through the trouble because he just saw Marrick tear someone to bits. Or maybe, worse, it's pity. "That's flattering and all. But it's just a bit of fun, what we do on our own time. Okay? I'm not looking for anything more. I don't need or want anything more. I don't need your protection. I sure as hell don't want to be your mate."
Going through the trouble: of softening the blow, that is.
Of letting her down easy.
"And truth is, I don't think you really want me to be your kinfolk or mate or whatever the fuck, either. You think you do? But Marrick, you're a fucking idealist. That kid you run around with too, Boy or whatever the fuck. Your whole damn pack. You see shit in me that's just... not... there. Whoever you think this 'worthy' male is, this guy that's brave and strong and a good father to your cubs? That's not me.
"I'm not an idealist. I'm not a goddamn knight in armor. I see life's ugly vicious side and I'm all too happy to jump on the bandwagon, because better them than me. So if everything you said last week and tonight was true, then fine. Everything I said last week was true too. And what I said made you mad enough to attack me.
"Which, y'know. Isn't really the beginning of a beautiful anything."
[Lukas] Her smile isn't lost in the dark. Not wholly. He can hear it. Knows her voice well enough now that he can hear the way the vowels curve, the way the consonants lilt, when she smiles. Can almost tell how much she smiles from the way she sounds.
He's a shadow in the dark, large and indistinct and warm. He's warm when they brush and warm at her side and warm like the passing summer was warm.
He met her (again) in winter. It's been nearly a year.
"Příště zemi bude pokryta sněhem," he says, smiling. She can hear that, too. "Budeme mrazem."
A distance passes in silence. Then: "Lie down with me tonight. On the grass. In the meadow where we ran last time. Pozor na přelomu hvězdy režijní."
to Danicka Musil
[Sinclair] She can't answer Kyle. Sinclair just flicks her eyes -- and her ears -- in his direction, then back at Alex and Marrick. She snarls softly, but she can't quite make her legs work, and she certainly can't talk to the kinsman who just tried to patch her up. She just... glowers, her eyes in this form the same pale, feathered blue as they are in homid.
[Marrick] She didn't want Sinclair to be there.
She didn't want her to be there, but there she was. She was there to see Alex look at her with an expression that felt so damned much like pity that she ached. Marrick didn't want Sinclair to be there to look at her, and remember all of this, and sing the stories that said that she was right.
At the end of the day, she's just another girl from bumfuck nowhere that doesn't know how the world works.
And she looks at him, and the look is one of pain. Something she's not ashamed of, but one that she's not hiding from either. There is no armor. There is no shield. She's not hiding. On some level, maybe Marrick realizes he's trying to let her down easy, though.
"Oh," she said. She doesn't feel her shoulder, she doesn't feel her stomach, but she feels this, "okay."
More silence.
"I won't push it, then."
[Kyle Velener] Chuckling to himself, Kyle sets to work cleaning up his stuff. Glancing from Sinclair to the pair and back again. HE never was in for all the politics when it came to others. Usually he just had a hard enough time sticking to his own troubles. Sips some water and looks to Sinclair.
"You took....good beating....Wish I.....could heal....same way."
Sighs as he sips his water and offers it to her. Funny how he was so casual as if this sort of thing happened on a regular basis for him.
[Alexander] Alex makes this sort of wince of a smile. He rotates one shoulder. He scratches under his collar, high up on his chest.
"Yeah," he says. "Thanks."
That seems to be it for a while. Then it's not. He adds -- this has the air of an impromptu, a haphazard tack-on that he hasn't bothered to think about, as though Alexander Vaughn ever thought about anything he says -- "It's not personal, y'know. I woulda said the same to anyone. I'm just not the ... not that type."
Give him this much. He has the good grace and/or the wisdom not to add, But this doesn't mean we can't still fuck when it rains, right?
[Danicka Musil] He can tell the way she's feeling from her scent, sometimes. When he slides into bed with her -- at a hotel, at her apartment, holding her for brief hours in his narrow bed at the Brotherhood -- he can feel her breathing in the dark and tell certain things about her. He knows when she's hungry, or when she's too warm, or when her feet are cold. He knows to expect her feet tucking under his, or her back pulling away from his chest to allow air to circulate between them, or when to go downstairs and bring back food for her
omelettes
fruit
stew.
He knows the way she smiles when they are alone, and the way that smiel softens not only her face but her voice. And he knows the way her hand grips his that she's still slightly afraid, growing less so. He can feel her alertness, a vigilance that's been there since childhood and will never entirely leave her no matter how in control she becomes of her own feelings. In the past six months he's watched some of the change that's overtaken her, being so intimately involved with Garou rather than avoiding them and sticking to time with Kinfolk. In four months he'll have known her in adulthood for a year; there is no telling what either of them will be like in that time.
If they will still be alive.
But he knows how pale her skin will get in winter, how she'll lose that golden warmth to her tone but not quite lose the heat in her hands.
Danicka looks at him as he speaks, then back to their unopened path. They aren't looking for previous footsteps, or for already downtrodden earth. Ale můžeš mě držet v teple, she thinks, but doesn't say it aloud. She just nods, and keeps walking with him. She does not remember how to get there. She trusts him to. And when they get there, not quite unerringly but close enough, soon enough, she recognizes it even in the starlit dark, and her hand tightens in his.
"When we leave this time," she whispers, following him to the grass that in a few weeks' time will dry out, and turn brown, and die on the cold earth, "will you come home with me?"
to Lukas
[Sinclair] Her tail twitches slightly, which is the closest thing to an answer Kyle gets this time. Reminding her of the beating she just took makes her ears lie flat against the back of her head. She snarls, tries to get to her feet, and pain lances through her so sharply she just lowers herself back down, growling again.
[Kyle Velener] "Take it....easy."
Looks at Sinclair and tries to figure in his head how long till she's able to move. Okay he was out of practise guessing garou healing. Happens when you travel solo for such a long time.
"Would you....like help...to move?
[Marrick] It's almost funny, in a macabre sort of way, because she's a bloody mess and they're both standing there. And, in a way, it's almost sad, because all she can think is to glance at the Galliard in lupus and wish that she wasn't here. That they didn't have a fucking audience, because right now, she was somewhere between hurt and embarassed.
She purses her lips and she nods.
It's not personal, y'know.
the Fury nods again.
"I know," she assures him. And for a minute, she stands there in silence. It takes a moment longer before she says something else. It's abrupt, like the Fury remembered something else entirely.
"Hey, could you... not talk about this? Okay?"
[Sinclair] This time, Sinclair snaps her jaws. She doesn't do it in Kyle's direction, at least. If he can read her body language, which she isn't sure he can, it comes across as frustration more than threat. If he can't read the body language of a wolf, then, well...
...anything with teeth that sharp snapping its jaws is going to come off as threatening. Especially when she's still mostly covered in blood.
[Lukas] The trees part. The sky opens up. Deep black, save for the brilliant white pinpricks of the stars, it yawns over them, and against it the shadows of the trees are a deeper still black.
Lukas raises his head to look at the stars, but he lowers it again when she speaks, when she whispers, her voice as soft as the wind through the trees. Softer. That wind's picking up now. The days grow short. From here on out the dark is longer than the light; the leaves will change and the grass will die. Winter is coming.
(He would keep her warm.)
And he turns to her, his hand tightening on hers. He pulls her closer, but in the end it's he who steps toward her, who bends toward her and catches her mouth when she lifts her face to him.
The kiss is slow, long, lingering. When it ends he says, "Ano."
to Danicka Musil
[Kyle Velener] Yeah he could read a wolf. Traveling with a pack for several years he had no choice but to learn. Takes a deep breathe and lets out a soft sigh as he contemplates what he could even say considering he hasn't got a clue as to what's going on.
[Alexander] In that minute of rather awkward silence, Alex has begun to turn away. When she speaks up, he turns back.
"About ... what, you and Sinclair? Or you and me?"
[Kyle Velener] (Kyle will hang around and then do a vanish at some stage :) take it easy all )
[Marrick] "I don't know-" she snaps, almost irritated but that calms down. It's quieter.
"About.. about me makin' a damned ass of myself-" just like Sinclair said, "-over this whole thing."
[Alexander] Alex thinks a minute.
"I'll try," he says, finally. Best he can do. Best she's going to get, for that matter.
[Marrick] "I appreciate it," she said.
And she turned around to continue on home at that point.
[Danicka Musil] More than likely, they'll stay out here til the sky starts to lighten, just like last time. They'll return to the field after dawn and find it mostly deserted if not entirely, the remnants of the bonfire nothing more than charred wood and mounds of ash mixed with water. They'll walk to the parking lot and unless he's of a mind to run back later in some four-legged form and pick up his car, or unless he's of a mind to let Katherine -- of all people -- drive the M3 back to Chicago proper, they'll have to take separate cars to Kingsbury Plaza.
There really is a box of his favorite kolace in the passenger seat of the Infiniti, a half dozen set aside because she knows he'll eat all six in a sitting if he can, and she knows that's enough to make him sick to his stomach, and she knows that makes no difference to him.
That's later, though. It's colder, much colder now, than it was on the solstice. Summer is dying all around them, the beginning of the end of the year. There's the plenty and richness of harvest coming on but it's not enough to offset the growing chill in the air, the seeming distance to the stars, the yawning void of winter. They are from a tribe that thrives in such conditions: stark weather, cold winds, hard earth. But Danicka...
...Danicka belongs in spring and summer, and he knew it from the moment he met her, and he felt it the first time he touched her, and he saw it as winter melted into thaw and then grew warmer and warmer. He saw her at the zenith the night she took him as her mate, as though the season made her strong enough to claim him, hold him, keep him.
Maybe it's the way the night has gone, with the fight behind them and the Fenrir nearly frenzying earlier, but Danicka curls into him when they kiss, tucking her shoulders towards his chest, wrapping her arms not around his neck this time but his waist. She asks him without a word to protect her like that, asks her to protect him the way she never would have at the beginning, never would have trusted him to do anyway.
The kiss is warm, and it lasts as long as summer did. Danicka does not move against him, or peel her sweater off her body, or pull him down on top of her in the grass. She lays beside him when they make it to the ground, legs tangling, arms folded between her chest and his side. The night grows colder, and she moves closer. She lays her head on his arm, his chest, his shoulder, the juncture of his body that seems more and more like it was molded for this purpose, and whispers in his ear the names of constellations she sees. She asks him if it's true that there are realms in the spirit world where stars and planets rule,
she tells him myths not of their home country, or their people's mythology, that correspond to the night it is and the meaning of autumn, the promise of winter.
She is quiet for a long time, stealing his body heat without shivering. Any lingering tension leaves her. She forgets that she was afraid, once, and would have been unwilling to come out here with him of all people. She tells him, in a murmur, that she wants to fall asleep with him in her bed with the sun still coming up, laze with him under the covers as Sunday morning crests around them.
It's his first hint that it's going to be time, soon, to take her home. To follow her there, or find her there, where no one else was ever wanted, where no other lover was asked to be, where she tells him he belongs.
For now, though, she kisses him, and lays with him in the grass, and watches the stars turn overhead towards dawn.
to Lukas
