olaf.

[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy had been wandering the park for the better part of the day. The book shop was closed due to a rat problem, and she couldn’t stay in her attic apartment while the exterminators were in. As the sun begins to go down, she finds herself standing in front of Crown fountain. She looks up at the monolith, head tilted as she studies the grainy photo displayed there. She’s wondering how exactly this constitutes a fountain.*
[Wendy Berber]
*Here we have a fine specimen of Bookwormus Maximus. The girl is tall and scrawny, but fairly unremarkable in the looks department. She has a small round face, her black hair unruly, flipping out above her jaw despite obvious attempts to keep it in check. Ink blue eyes blink from behind thick cat-eye glasses perched precariously on a tiny nose. Wendy is meek, her uncertainty clear in every movement of the thin young woman - from the scuff of a small black shoe, to the way she droops narrow shoulders; all but disappearing in the ratty knit sweater intent on swallowing her upper body. A pleated skirt better suited to an old woman hangs about her knees, meeting the top of white cotton socks, no doubt intended to spare on lookers the sight of her pale chicken legs. A patched canvas bag drags at her hip, heavy with texts.*
[Maija]
Since Wahya’s visit, she’s been feeling much better - that happens when mystical means takes several weeks off your healing time. She’s still bruised and sore, but at least she’s no longer completely broken.

She still is, however, hiding under that overly large gray sweatshirt, now stained with something suspiciously the color of dried blood [so much of it her own]. The hood is pulled up, and tugged low over her face, her hands shoved into the ‘roo pocket, her steps slow and even as she wanders the park. She’s not so much out for some sun - as that’s in short supply the past few days - but the exercise and getting out of the apt? sorely needed.
[Matthias]
A giant walked… His heavy soled leather boots seemed almost to echo within the tunnel-like feel of the Grant Park landscape, surrounded as it was by the skyscrapers of the metropolis and a still thickening ceiling of cloud cover above. A golden mane framed a stern expression, in which were set eyes the color of steel.

Random passersby give the imposing figure a wide birth, as much for the Rage that seemed to flow from his every pore as the dark expression on the hulking figure.

His clothing was simple, as always it seemed, dark denim jeans and a black tee shirt, though today a light plaid button up of green and blue is rolled to the man’s sleeves. Before him, the Crown fountain loomed in the dying light of evening…
[Alexander Vaughn]
There are two landmark fountains in Grant Park, and they couldn’t be more different from one another. Buckingham Fountain is a broad, tiered, stately structure of stone and bronze, vaguely rococo in style. Crown Fountain is … well; barely a fountain: a sprawling field of shallow water interrupted by two monoliths, each of which projects anonymous human faces that ’spit’ water out at intervals. It’s a bit too overcast and cold for kids to be playing under the spray, but there’s still a few splashing in the shallows.

Alexander is neither a child nor playing in the shallows. He’s sitting on a bench a little ways away from the fountain, a twenty-something fellow, dark-haired, tanned as though he’d come from some southern clime. He has two hot dogs, chicago-style, naturally. He’s eating one; the other is cooling on its tray, which is set somewhat precariously on the bench beside him.

Some young couple, laughing, paying far more attention to one another than their surroundings, plunks down on the bench and narrowly avoids toppling Alexander’s hot dog to the ground. The response is instantaneous and sharp. “Hey!” he barks, loud enough to turn heads fifteen feet around. “Watch it, assholes!”
[Alexander Vaughn]
(folks, i hafta NPC something in the other window, so i might be a little slow here. also, given + of people, i say we just post willy-nilly unless someone really needs everyone else to stop and wait. that said: don’t wait on me.)
[Maija]
Someone barks out their irritation, and she flinches - just a little, and only enough that she feels it herself and cusses at herself for doing so. She’s not weak, she’s just still a little… jumpy. She turns toward Alexander and his hot dogs, before another gaze takes in two more familiar figures. The librarian that ran into her at the Brotherhood, and the Giant - who put her on the bus home the night she was mugged.

She should have taken a cab.

That was over a week ago, though, closer to two, and she’s moving easier, and the remaining bruises are easily hidden under her baggy clothing - clothing she swims in. At 5′6″, if she weighs 105, it’s because she’s carrying a brick in both back pockets. She’s waif-ish thin, despite the fact she’s eating regularly now, something she didn’t have for almost two years. No telling where she puts it, as the food certainly doesn’t cling to her frame, doesn’t add to the barely there curves.

She can’t resist, however, as she moves past Alex and his hot dogs and his commentary… “Nice language. There’s fuckin kids here, you know.” You can almost hear the smirk.
[Matthias]
The Fenrir’s head turns at Alexander’s outburst, the grin upon his lips taking on an almost sinister nature with the Rage flowing from him. Then, as steel gray eyes recognize the woman hiding in the hooded sweatshirt, the figure moves toward the two…

As he approaches, the giant’s deep bass voice drifts to them both.

“Wise advice is often well taken even by the one from whom it was given.”
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy skitters sideways at the man’s shout, looking around and shrinking a little as she sees Maija. Guilty.*
[Alexander Vaughn]
The ‘assholes’ Alexander barked at have decided to move on to a friendlier bench. This leaves Alex by himself again, hunkered over with his elbows on his knees, shoving food in his mouth.

And then Maija decides to remind him of the presence of children. Alex pauses mid-bite. It’s not a sunny day, but there’s enough light in the sky to make him squint up at Maija for a moment. Then he straightens up, bites off his mouthful of hot dog, and politely tells Maija to:

“Go fuck yourself.” His eyes flicker to the giant. Matthias is used to people flinching at his rage by now, and he’ll recognize the way Alex’s shoulders tense. “Were we talking to you, Olaf?”
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy’s eyes fly wide at Alexander’s sheer gall, and the scrawny young woman screws up her courage and approaches, Mathias getting a very wide berth as she moves towards Maija* Um..
[Maija]
The smirk only briefly lived, there and gone and unseen behind the hood. At best, one gets a hint of the line of her jaw, a bit of hair slid from the depths within, tucked back away with thin fingers.

Alex tells her to go fuck herself - and clearly, this group missed the joke. This is why she avoids most folks, truth be told. Matthias chides her, confirming the theory, and she walks on. And right into Wendy…

whoops.

She mutters a “sorry…” then can’t help but do a double take - remembering. It’s the guilty look that does it. A briefly amused look flickers across her hidden features, and she adds. “We’re even now, ya can quit lookin’ so guilty.”

Maija’s CLEARLY doing better than the last time they met.
[Matthias]
At this, Matthias’ grin takes on a definitely sinister edge. Moving closer still, the Fenrir starts crowding Alexander’s space, his proximity all but uncomfortable as he looks down at the other man.

“Perhaps I was talking to you… boy.”

Swinging back to Alexander, the hulking Fenrir simply stares at him, the stern expression made perhaps harsher by the semblance of dark amusement clear upon his features.
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy nearly lands on her ass, throwing her hands out all akimbo to catch herself. She gulps.* Oh, uh.. I’m glad you’re not hurt. *She scratches through her thick mop of hair, shifting nervously, her eyes slipping to Alexander and Matthias in turn, then to the ground. She seems to curl into herself at the look on Matt’s face.*
[Maija]
She….didn’t mean to send her that off balance. She reaches out and helps steady Wendy, and shakes her head. “Sorry. But yeah. Got a little help, and some Payote.”

Heh.

Matthias goes all up in Alex’s space, and that seems to be a cue to move a few feet away. To Wendy. “Gettin a dog - want one?” presumably she means a hot dog from that vender over there.
[Wendy Berber]
Um yes. Maybe. More than one. *She’s all long legs and knees, tripping over herself as she tries to get away from the trouble brewing. Wendy pushes her glasses up and yep, they’re taped down the middle. White tape too, no subtly on this one. She lowers her voice over the clatter of her books* I think there might be.. an altercation.
[Alexander Vaughn]
Alex is almost instantly on his feet as Matthias starts to crowd his space. When he faces off against the Modi, it’s rather painfully clear that Alexander’s height, which would be considered medium or average-ish in the world of men, falls some six or seven inches short of Matthias’s. He takes care of himself, works out, has built for himself a sort of compact, sinewy strength, but the bottom line is:

He has to look up at the other. Way up.

When they’re facing off like this, Alexander has to either look up at Matthias from under his eyebrows, or raise his chin. It’s perhaps noteworthy that he chooses to do the former. Despite that the latter offers a more confident, arrogant pose, Alex keeps his chin tucked as if out of instinct to avoid baring his throat. His hands are clenched very tight at his sides, the knuckles white.

“Mind,” he says to Matthias, slowly and clearly, “your own, fucking, business. Olaf.“
[Maija]
There might be an altercation. “Welcome to Chicago.” comes the wry answer. Maija shoves her hands back into her ‘roo pocket, keeping a close eye on what may be an altercation behind them.

Alex goes into fight mode, which is not the method of posture Maija herself ever chooses, and she shoots him a second glance. Then, idly, to Wendy. “I’m Maija, by the way.” Mi-yah, she says, and her voice is unmarked by any single accent - but rather a mixture of everywhere mingled with bad grammar.
[Wendy Berber]
Oh, Wendy Berber miss. Nice to meet you. *She looks back at Alex and Matthias, and tenses, stumbling a little as she picks up the pace to the vendor, hands twisted in her skirt.* Oh dear. Oh dear. Not good. Oh dear. ..
[Matthias]
“Call me that again… boy.”

Rage suffused the growled whisper, as Matthias’ grin dies quietly upon his lips… His expression turned to one of purest fury.

His weight had rolled to the balls of his feet, even as the Fenrir’s face pushes down still closer to Alexander.
[Alexander Vaughn]
Alex’s hands open and ball up again once, spasmodically.

“Olaf.“
[Maija]
She steps back, slightly, putting herself between Wendy and the raging inferno behind them. “Boys are fuckin’ stupid. They can take care of themselves. Come on, let’s get somethin’ to eat.”

Protective mode, 101. Even as she does her best to hide herself, to keep herself out of harms way, apparently when someone seems weaker then her, she puts herself in the way. No wonder she got so busted up. “Jus’ ignore’em.”
[Wendy Berber]
Ignore them? Kay.. But I’m somewhere between wetting myself and a near death experience… *She murmurs shakily… but the pencil necked kin continues to the vendor, offering him a handful of bills and change and ordering 4 hot dogs. She keeps her head tucked down.*
[Matthias]
Olaf-

Alexander doesn’t even get the opportunity to finish the word. As soon as the sound of the eff leaves his lips, Matthias’ meaty appendage moves to Alexander’s throat, the giant’s fist closing around his windpipe as the digits flex closed. Drawing Alexander’s face closer to his own, even while beginning to choke the life from him, Matthias speaks from clenched teeth.

“Courage is foolishness without wisdom to guide it… boy.”
[Maija]
Four. She gives Wendy a quick once over, and idly wonders where she’s gonna put all that, before she digs out a couple bucks from her pocket, and orders one for herself.

She shifts her position slightly, to watch Matthias give Alex a lesson in manners, still keeping herself between Wendy and them. “They ain’t the worst things that could happen.” experience talking there.
[Wendy Berber]
Its worse I worry about.. *She whispers, tucking her change in a pocket. Wendy lingers behind Maija, nibbling on a hot dog as she watches the two men have their stand off nearby, eyes wide.*
[Alexander Vaughn]
Ohfuck he’s gonna kill me –

Courage, Matthias calls it, but the flash of panic in Alexander’s eyes is plain to see when the Modi’s big hand shoots forward. Alex sways backwards, not fast enough — Matthias’s fist clamps around his throat. Alex grabs Matthias’s forearm as much in a futile attempt to get free and as in pure reflex, scrabbling at the other’s arm, his hands about as effective as they would be on a wood banister. When Matthias drags him closer, eye to eye, the shorter man’s feet nearly leave the ground.

This is a pretty busy part of Grant Park. People are gawking; some woman lets out a shriek. Matthias says something — Alexander clutches and claws at the gripping hand for another second, and then — in a feat of possibly epic stupidity — flails wildly at Matthia’s face with his fists.
[Maija]
A smirk slides along her lips, there and gone so briefly that it hardly registers at all. She takes her dog once it’s been fixed up with all the works, and then turns to watch the show.

And what a show it is, as Alex suddenly starts flailing wildly. “What a dumbass.”

People are watching, someone shrieks, and she just eats her hot dog, doing her best to keep her face hidden while she does so. Old habits die hard, and all that.
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy lets out a pained little scream, choking it off as she turns away from the scene unfolding in front of her, eyes clenched tightly shut. Do not scream. You are invisible. Do not attract attention. Two of her three remaining hot dogs hit the grass beside her.*
[Matthias]
Hearing the shriek, Matthias’ steel gray eyes move to either side, his free arm moving to Alexander’s shoulder to present something of a wedge for Alexander’s flailing limbs to contend with. Meanwhile, the grip does not loosen… Does not slacken… Not for what seems an eternity.

Then, only after whatever internal clock tells Matthias he has indeed come to the verge of killing Alexander… Only then does the grip release… Leaving Alexander to stand or fall in an unceremonious heap upon the ground. Towering over the figure a few moments more, a low growl escapes the hulking Fenrir’s throat.

With that, Matthias turns toward a less densely packed portion of Grant Park, ostensibly to make his escape from the all too public scene.
[Maija]
She turns to look at Wendy when she screams, and then crouches to pick up the fallen hot dogs and pluck off the grass and such that they’d collected.

She stands again and offers them back to Wendy as Matthias heads off. “See, he ain’t killt him. S’alright, really. Here.”

Well. he ain’t kilt ‘em YET, anyway.
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy’s eyes open as hot dogs are pushed back into her hands. She takes them and peeks nervously around Maija to see if Alex is in fact as alive as she says. There’s an audible gulp as she sees him crumpled on the grass. Wendy’s voice is choked and shaky.* I hate violence….
[cricket]
to Alexander Vaughn, Maija, Matthias, Wendy Berber
(hm. could I potentially crash this scene with my kinfolk? :’) or is it near its end?)
[Maija]
to Alexander Vaughn, cricket, Matthias, Wendy Berber
(S’fine with me)
[Wendy Berber]
to Alexander Vaughn, cricket, Maija, Matthias
(fine here as well. I’ll have to dash in 20 minutes!)
[Alexander Vaughn]
He might as well be a sparrow beating against glass. This isn’t the first time some Garou’s lost his (or her) temper at Alex; this isn’t the first time he’s been knocked about, hauled around, beat up, beat down. Of course not. Listen to the mouth on him: asking for trouble. This isn’t Alex’s first close call, but that doesn’t make it any easier. The cold iron taste of fear is the same. The strain of his lungs pulling for air that isn’t there — or the pain of a crushed cheekbone — or a snapped arm — that’s all the same.

So’s the sense of anticipation. The hope that maybe this time…
(…he’ll become something more.)

Only, he doesn’t. Matthias lets go. Matthias is angry, but let’s be honest: Matthias was in control of the situation. Alexander drops in an inglorious, wheezing, heap, and his throat will be sore for hours, and he’ll have an oxygen-dep headache, but nothing’s broken. He’s not even bleeding. If Matthias was not in control, Alexander would be a smear on the sidewalk by now.

Which, one might argue, is exactly where he’s headed, full speed ahead.

The modi turns to go, leaving the gaping pedestrians and the shocked onlookers swiftly behind. Alexander wheezes and gasps on all fours for a while, and then, as soon as he has his breath back, pushes himself up onto his knees and shouts hoarsely after the other: “Oh yeah, that was smart! Right in the middle of Grant Park, you fuckin’ sociopath! What’s your name? I’m pressing charges!“
[Maija]
She touches Wendy’s arm lightly. “It’s alright. Honest. I’m gonna go check on’im. You stay here.”

It’s about then that Alex get shis breath, and wheezes out his threat, and she just shakes her head, a slight movement under the hood. She takes another bite of her hot dog as she moves, eventually sitting right on the bench where Alex was to begin with, where it all started.

Of all the things she says - she offers this as a conversation starter, since he’s demanding the mans name. “I know’im.”
[Wendy Berber]
*Oh god please, just shut up and eat a hotdog! Wendy can’t take this sort of stress. This stupid stranger was going to get himself killed, and she’d seen this same scene play out too many times before. She squeezes her eyes shut against tears and turns away, waiting for the wrath of Matthais to rain down on Alex and Maija both, simply because Maija was in the general proximity.*
[Alexander Vaughn]
Matthias doesn’t even turn. Apparently Alexander wasn’t even worth the effort. His broad back disappears into the crowd and, left behind, Alexander sinks awkwardly back down on his ass, then collapses on his back, closing his eyes while he gets the rest of his breath back.

Some random good samaritan asks if he needs help or wants to call an ambulance. Alexander tells them to fuck the fuck off, while the good samaritan promptly, and huffily, does.

Then Maija’s standing over him, tell him Alex she knows him. One of Alexander’s eyes pops open. Oh, it’s the scrawny brat again. He eyes her for a moment, and then shuts it again.

“Good for you. I’m not really pressing charges.”
[Alexander Vaughn]
(WHICH the good samaritan promptly and huffily does.)
[Maija]
“No shit, sherlock.” Though of course, he ruined her punchline. This is why she doesn’t make jokes. She doesn’t seem the type and no one ever lets her get in the perfect punchline. She finishes off her dog (inhalation) and watches him as she chews and swallows.

“My friend was worried. So said I’d make sure you ain’t dead. Ya clearly ain’t, so..” a pause as she digs through her pockets again. “Got a lighter?”
[Alexander Vaughn]
“Cigarettes’ll kill you.” Guess that’s a no. He rolls his head sideways on the grass, looks at Maija’s friend for a moment. “Who the fuck are you two, anyway, the mouse brigade?”
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy waits, still as a fawn in grass - for the sounds of meaty fists snapping bone. One heartbeat rings loud in her ears, then another, followed by another. When the familiar sounds of violence don’t drown them out, she opens her eyes and begins to move awkwardly forward, hot dog held out as a peace offering, all the way from the vendor. She slows as she gets closer, looking like she expects death to descend from above at any moment. * I’m W-wendy… *Hot dog extended shakily to Alexander*I g-got you this…
[Alexander Vaughn]
Mouse Brigade Jr. is offering him a hot dog.

Alexander stares at Wendy like she might’ve recently sprouted a second head. Or four ears. Or nineteen eyes. His eyes go from the hot dog to the mousy librarian, and back.

“Are you shitting me? You saw me getting killed, so you decided to get me a hot dog?“
[Mackenzie Walsh]
There is a crowd drawn by the scene on display in the middle of Grant Park with its natural beauty and the ambiance provided by a backdrop of the city and the gentle cadence of water flowing over Buckingham fountain. Like a theater show there are murmurs and soft cries in the dark as the scene progresses to its final act.

That of the boy on the ground, breathing and clutching at his neck and the giant figure hulking away in the safety of the tree-line.

One of the observers, lightly pressing a hip against the lip of the fountain is a young woman of no extraordinary beauty. She has the face that blends into a thousand crowds for its pleasant blandness; what it lacked for it open appeal was perhaps the intelligence in her dark eyes; the pleasing line of her slender build as she watches with her hands tucked in her pockets; and the edges of her collar drawn up against the breeze coming off the fountain beside her.

She does not speak to the crowds about her, slowly dispersing as they realize there will be no more violence with some ingrained sense of disappointment that every cop show has taught them to expect.

She — it seems — is at her leisure to observe them.
[Maija]
“Ain’t plannin on smokin a cigarette.” she says, as she contemplates kicking him. “Maija. an’ tell the nice lady thank ya. Who th’fuck are you?”

She finally locates her own lighter, since he ain’t got one, and promptly lights a joint and inhales deeply. She’d offer him a hit - but ya know, it’ll kill him.
[Wendy Berber]
*She slips a spindly finger into her mouth and gnaws it nervously, eyes filling with guilty tears. Her stutter gets worse.* You w-were so ang-angry.. about the hot-hot dog.. I.. *She trails off, looking away and dropping her hand, her peace-offering rejected.* ..s-sorry.
[Alexander Vaughn]
Unbelievable. Alexander stares for another minute. Then he sits up, clearing his throat noisily, and sticks his hand out.

“Lemme have it.”

Wendy might consider it a peace offering, but Alex mostly considers it a replacement for the two hotdogs he was going to eat before all hell broke loose. He winces when he swallows the first bite, one hand going to his throat where bruises have begun to surface, before he catches himself and drops his hand back down.

“Who the fuck are you?” he shoots back at Maija. “Besides the little twit that had to go and attract Olaf’s attention and get my ass handed to me.”
[Maija]
Good, he’d taken it. She looks up at Wendy and nods, hoping that’ll make her not quite so nervous, even if he’s still being an ass.

“Ya did that shit all by yourself. I was merely making a joke. Not my fault ya took it so fuckin serious. An’ i told ya. I’m Maija.”
[Wendy Berber]
*The hot dog is handed over hastily, Wendy glancing over her shoulder to the young woman who was observing them from the fountain’s edge. She swallows nervously and takes a step away from Alexander, distancing herself from the angry accident waiting to happen.* He’d have overlooked you.. if you’d not..um.. well.. called him that thing he didn’t like. *She nods in agreement with Maija. She was never saying Olaf - ever. Angry men would leap from the shadows and kill her to death.*
[Alexander Vaughn]
Alexander snorts, but he doesn’t contradict either of them. He’s not stupid, just … … stupid. Yeah.

“Don’t tell me he didn’t look like an Olaf to you.” He clears his throat again, bites into his hot dog. “I should’ve called him a knuckle-dragging troglodyte instead. Might as well get my rocks off if he’s going to strangle me.”

And finally, “Alexander.” Which one supposes is his name.
[Mackenzie Walsh]
One of her small white hands withdraws from a pocket and takes to possession in its grip a small leather-bound notepad with a well-sharpened stub of a pencil wedged into the spiral binding at its top. Without a hint of subterfuge the brunette turns a fresh page and begins to write details in the shorthand of any well learned receptionist.

Her eyes return every few moments to recollect in detail the anger in the boy, the fear of the small quivering girl and the other - she wasn’t certain if she’d call her emotion anger - or well learned survivalist gruffness.

Wendy glances in her direction, and Mackenzie meets her gaze openly with no modest reaction. She does, however, return her notebook to her pocket and quietly leave off from her observation point to begin down a marked path, zig-zagging away from the scene at an angle that takes her past their small group.
[Wendy Berber]
N-Nice to meet you. *The tall kin seems small somehow. Hardly the 6 feet she tops out at. The trembling stoop probably has a lot to do with it. One thin finger points in Mackenzie’s direction, and Wendy clears her throat.* We’re um. being documented. I think.
[Maija]
She scans the area, idly, as she takes another hit, holding the smoke deep in her lungs before she exhales slowly. She can’t even begin to explain how nice it is to be able to inhale deeply once more without the searing stab of agony brought on by simply moving. In looking around, following Wendy’s comment - she sees Mackenzie, and her gaze narrows slightly. She tugs her hood farther down, keeping her face covered in shadow, as she lifts her feet and hooks them on the bench seat, creating a smaller, even less identifiable target.

She’s clearly hiding from something/one

“He did.” she admits. “He’s really a Matthias.” which when one thinks about it, could be just as bad.
[Alexander Vaughn]
“What the–” Alexander bounds to his feet and shouts after Mackenzie. “Hey! Hey you!“
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy has little to say, beginning to slowly relax as she bites into her second hotdog. And choking when Alex jumps up and yells past her. She coughs and skitters sideways, spitting a hunk of half chewed hot dog into the grass and gasping, eyes wide on Alex and Mackenzie through cokebottle spectacles. Being around this boy is going to get me killed!*
[Mackenzie Walsh]
The hey you stops as soon as she is shouted at, she had barely managed a handful of steps before she stops and turns to face him.

“Can I help you with something?”

Perfectly calm, and perfectly un-American in voice. Perhaps English, or even south African. The softness with which she spoke made it difficult to pin-point.
[Maija]
He takes off and almost knocks Wendy on her ass again, and she just shakes her head. Dark eyes are on Makenzie and Alex, though. Watching. Waiting.

(…never hoping. never that…)
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy looks to Maija and then back to Alex, her hands flapping a little at her sides in a “What the hell?!” gesture. She holds her hotdogs in both hands, offering the unbitten one to Maija after a moments indecision.*
[Maija]
She is never one to turn down free food, and takes the offered hot dog with a nod of thanks, then returns to her curled up position. She’s swimming in oversized clothing, her hood covers her face, there is really very little Mackenzie would have written about her.

She hopes.

“Wanna sit?” This to Wendy, as she waves to the bench beside her.
[Alexander Vaughn]
Alexander is compact and sinewy. He hasn’t gone far after Mackenzie. He’s still close enough to the other women, the ones he dubbed the Mouse Brigade, that Mackenzie can see he’s some inches taller than Maija, and two or three shorter than gawky, awkward Wendy. His stance, the jut of his jaw — and the fresh handprint bruise on his throat — all point to a certain touchy, hairtrigger temper; a sort of overinflated yet fragile ego.

He already got his ass handed to him once today. There’s something about the way he jabs a finger at Mackenzie’s notepad that says he’s out to prove something back to himself. By picking on girls. That’s nice.

“What the hell’s that?”
[Wendy Berber]
Oh..um. Yeah. Thanks. *A toothy genuine smile flickers across Wendy’s features as she sits on the bench with a creak, crossing her legs so her underwear doesn’t have even a chance of showing under that big ugly skirt. She holds her hotdog idly, meal forgotten as she nibbles her lip and peers at Maija owlishly. Blink. Blink. Blink.* Are you - um. ok?
[Mackenzie Walsh]
She’s not anywhere close to Wendy’s height.

At exactly 5′3 the woman he jabs at finger toward is in fact quite the opposite of Wendy, that being said she is slight as well as small and gives the impression that were a strong current to pick up she might have trouble keeping her feet firmly planted on the ground. Her dark hair is close enough to black to pass for it in the moonlight, close-cropped to layer her cheeks and the longer ends pulled away in a hair-tie, tucked beneath her collar.

Her face, as mentioned, is not by modern terms ‘pretty’. Her nose is perhaps a touch too long, her mouth too thin, or crooked to be fond of smiling. Though she is, perhaps to make up for this, entirely unafraid by Alexander’s attitude and intention to intimidate.

“A notepad.”

She defines without a pause, and takes it from her pocket to show him as if concerned for his ability to recognize one.
[Maija]
She takes another hit, long and slow, and then as she holds the smoke deep in her lungs, she carefully puts out the Joint on the bench by her ass, and tucks the rest of the J away, for later. She then digs into that hot dog with an obviously renewed appetite.

“Hm? oh.” Pause, swallow. “m’fine. why ya ask?”
[Alexander Vaughn]
Alex snaps the notepad over immediately and flips through it.
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy sneezes, her glasses flapping against her nose as she brings a hand up to cover her mouth and nose. She shakes her head to clear it of the pot smoke.* Oh, um. You just - You’re all bunched up. Thats all. *Her voice gets small, and she offers an apologetic smile, not wanting to offend. Her gaze wanders to Alex and Mackenzie, and she cringes.*
[Maija]
She blinks. And looks at Wendy, and then her shoulder lifts in the slightest of shrugs. “Jus ain’t givin that bitch a good lookit my face.”

simple enough. “you alright?”
[Wendy Berber]
Oh, yeah. No. I’m fine. Sorry. *She nods, realizing there’s a hot dog still half eaten in her hand, and shoving it in her face to stop herself from being any more awkward.*
[Mackenzie Walsh]
She doesn’t try to hold onto it.

The notepad itself is most likely hard to understand, written as most of it is in shorthand. More a collection of strange squiggled lines and roughly drawn sketches of the Chicago streets. Intermittent throughout is a lot of legal talk about families and abuse cases, trial dates and on the inside cover the potential name to go with the woman — taped on a card.

M. Walsh
Lawyer

She watches him greedily flipping through it with a composed expression, her hands returned to her pockets, waiting.
[Alexander Vaughn]
Alexander is, as mentioned, not a complete blockhead. It takes him about four or five flips to realize this is the notepad of some sort of legal figure; an attorney-at-law, or perhaps a paralegal. He snaps the notepad shut once that’s clear enough and hands it back to her.

“Don’t stare at strangers while you scribble in notepads,” he says, and then offers her a rather jagged smile. “Looks like you’re spying or something.”
[Mackenzie Walsh]
She takes it back and then, at his words, and the wind catching in her hair, lifts a hand to comb it from her lashes bearing the inside of her left wrist. There is a small tattoo inked to it, a tribal affiliation that she has not made any attempt to disguise. Alexander offers her a crocodile’s smile, full of assumption at what he understood her notebook and her reasoning to be.

“I was spying,” she supplies without a waver of hesitation.
[Alexander Vaughn]
“What the fuck!” Alexander exclaims.
[Maija]
She nods, relaxing into her curled up position, keeping herself in shadow and as non-descript as possible. This is what happens when she goes into public and actually speaks to folks.

Her eyes are on Mack and Alex. Watching. Suspiciously.

“Ain’t no need t’apologize.”
[Wendy Berber]
Kay. *Wendy swallows the urge to apologize for apologizing, and looks over Alex’s way, finishing her hotdog and moving on to biting nervously at her fingernails.* um.. So. Are you from Chicago.. um originally, miss Maija? *Small talk, as she watches the altercation nearby with obvious worry.*
[Mackenzie Walsh]
“You weren’t exactly being subtle.”

She points out mildly at the exclamation, with raised eyebrows. Her gaze moves over to the watching pair close by and she meets Maija’s suspicion-filled glare with that same quiet air of confidence. As though she knew well enough she was not in any immediate danger.

“Enraging him in public.” It doesn’t sound so much a reprimand as a bleak fact.
[Maija]
There is little to meet in the way of her glare, there’s little more than the suggestion of it beneath her hoodie, the feeling that yes, it’s there.

She glances at Wendy, but her focus is on the others. “Jus’ Maija s’fine. An’ no. From all over, really. been here couple months. You?”

Idle conversation, as she tries to keep Wendy calm. ish.
[Wendy Berber]
About two weeks… I live in a bookstore. Er, above. A book store. In the attic. *she clarifies, not wanting Maija to think she’s a hobo or something.*
[Alexander Vaughn]
That particular turn of phrase makes Alex’s eyebrows go up. Enraging him. Alexander gives Mackenzie a careful look, and then he takes another bite of his hot dog. That Wendy bought. Because his original ‘dogs were rolling on the turf somewhere.

“Mind your own business, lady,” he snaps at Mackenzie, mouth full. “God, this city’s just full of people who can’t keep their noses out of other people’s affairs, isn’t it.”

Alexander starts walking off. When he passes Wendy, he hoists the half-eaten hotdog in a small salute. “Thanks for the ‘dog, Mouse.”
[Alexander Vaughn]
(iiii’m gonna go actually work on this guy’s char sheet, i think! thanks for playtesting, folks. i had fun!)
[Maija]
She arches a brow, slightly, unseen of course. “nice place is it? An attic?”

She watches Alex head back by, and smirks as he ignores her. It’s the way she prefers it, truth be told. Another glance for Mack, then back to Wendy again.
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy flinches, then nods and gives a wary finger wiggle to Alex. She turns back to Maija and nods again.* Its too small. But i get a dis-discount on books.
[Maija]
“Always a good thing.” she pauses, and then smirks, slightly. “I’d fuck a man t’get into his library.”

Oh the truth of those words… despite the fact that she genuinely likes the guy too. His books are a close second.
[Mackenzie Walsh]
He snaps at her, she merely looks at him with a raised eyebrow as if she were quite underwhelmed by his attitude and raises a thin shoulder in a shrug.

“As you wish.”

Turning her back to him, she begins where she left off before being halted, following a path through the park’s main vein of traffic.
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy’s eyes get huge and her mouth forms a hollow O, hanging open speechless. Owlish eyes magnified by those glasses blink repeatedly. *
[Mackenzie Walsh]
(thanks for letting me crash, guys!)
[Wendy Berber]
(no worries!)
[Maija]
Silence from Wendy, and a hell of reaction. She turns to look at her, and then snorts a brief chuckle. “Ya would’t do that, huh? Figured it’d jus’ be me.”

She’s amused. Still hiding under that hoodie, but very very amused.
[Wendy Berber]
I just.. I uh. *her mouth claps shut, then opens, then shuts once more.* Uh… I uh.. I just, uh..um. N-no. no. *She shakes her head wildly, turning a shade of red that’s noticeable even in the half light of the nearby fountain.* I wouldn’t. I.. no. No-one would.. uh. *Wendy trails off, flustered.*
[Maija]
She laughs. Out loud. Few people ever hear her give in and just… laugh. But she does, and then gestures idly, hoping not to offend her. “Figured ya wouldn’t. Not that there’s anythin’ wrong with that.”

OR wrong with getting into a library. Using sexual favors. Just don’t ask what happens when she wants to go out for dinner….
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy blinks a few times more, and clears her throat. She’s still red as a berry, fiddling with her skirt.* Um.. so.. you read? *She cringes as the words leave her mouth* um. I mean. of course you read. but um.. do - do you like… uh literature?
[Maija]
With Mackenzie gone, she relaxes against the back of the bench. Though she doesn’t relax so much that she lets Wendy actually see her, see what’s under that hoodie.

“Yeah. Only thing I like more’n reading is sketchin. And sex, of course.”

Just because she can’t resist.
[Wendy Berber]
*The blush that had been fading returns in full force, and the bookworm stutters* I uh.. um. I like sk-sketch-sketching too. *She occupies herself with digging through the heavy satchel at her hip, until she comes out with an armful of books. Among them are “Quadrants”, “Existentialism in Europe”, “Seances, Spirits, Superstitions” “Chicago Urban Legends” and “New Haven Supernatural Anthology”.*
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy offers pushes “Seances, Spirits, Superstitions” across the bench towards Maija.* this one is um.. rather funny. Really.
[Maija]
She reaches to take the book, her fingers as skinny as the rest of her, and very pale. As if cold, despite the fact she is buried in fleece. If she were to touch her hand, she’d find that yes, Maija’s hands are cold. Always.

(ok, almost always.)

She had watched the books that were pulled out,noting the titles before looks at the one in her hand and flips through the pages with interest. “Is it?” interest piqued.
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy nods. She seems calmer now that Sir Fights-alot has left. The blush recedes back into her ratty sweater. She looks taller. Academic. If nerve gratingly shy.* there are some, uh, very interesting ideas on the origin of number of supernatural monsters. Pixies, ghosts, lycanthropes. Its um.. worth a chuckle.
[Maija]
A brow lifts, slightly, as Wendy speaks, and gives quite a bit of emphasis on one certain section. She flips through quickly to look for the Furry N Fanged section. “Really? Worth a chuckle - so is it completely outa wack, or with possible nuggets of truth…”

She saw Wendy in the Brotherhood - but that doesn’t mean anything exactly for sure 100% - thus, this kin is cautious, despite keeping the conversation going.
[Wendy Berber]
to Maija
(Observe! there is a picture of the berber now!))
[Maija]
to Wendy Berber
(What a perfect picture! Well chosen!)
[Wendy Berber]
entirely ludicrous. Very ..um. funny. *She nods, piling her books back into her bag*
[Maija]
She nods with a grin. “Have ya finished it - can i borrow it? I’ll get it back to ya in perfect condition, asap, of course.”
[Wendy Berber]
Oh no take it. *She nods.* Keep it as long as you want.. I’ve got so..so many books. I have a library, um. too. *That blush is back again, Wendy turning her face away as the pink crawls up her cheeks.*
[Maija]
She can’t help it. Course, as relaxed as she is with the partaking of that Payote earlier… yeah. “Oh really.” The tease is obvious as Wendy blushes, before she just folds the book into her arms against her chest.

“Thanks.”

Sincere, that.
[Wendy Berber]
*If Wendy could transmute into a puddle and dribble between the bench slats, she would, burning redder as Maija teases her. She nods and offers a shy silly smile at the thanks.* Um. No problem.
[Maija]
“I ain’t got no phone or nuthin, but sometime I’ll return the favor. Not that I got any books of my own to lend or nuthin, but the guy i’m shackin up with’s got some good ones.”

Maybe she wasn’t kidding earlier.
[Wendy Berber]
oh. uh. well. thank you. *She seems startled at the offer, running a hand through messy black hair self consciously.* I do have a phone. Um. If you want it. that is. You don’t have to take it if you don’t want it. Just if you want it. *She cringes a little. That was smooth Wendy. No wonder you have so many friends. *
[Maija]
She glances at Wendy, and then digs in the front pocket of her hoodie to dig out a pen and her journal. She flips it open to a new page - and if Wendy’s watching she’d see it’s a sketch journal rather than words, which is something far more personal in some ways - and hands it to Wendy for her to add her name and number under some of the others collected in Chicago.

“Yeah. We kin meet at the Brotherhood for dinner or somethin, sometime.”
[Wendy Berber]
oh. um. OK. thanks. *She smiles breifly then scratches her number down.* I’m uh, also above “James’ Odditities” … I work there. Except right now. Um. now we have rats. *Wendy hands the book back and swallows hard.*
[Maija]
She takes the journal back and tuck it away again. “Rats huh?” She don’t say anything about it, really. She’s been in some pretty bad spots where rats were the least of her worries. “Ya got somewhere else t’stay?”
[Wendy Berber]
*wendy’s mouth opens. then shuts.* Oh. …uh. *Wow. She hadn’t thought about where to sleep* No .. I can’t go there. Side effects include nerve damage and Respiratory distress. uh.. *She scowls to herself behind the spectacles.* Hm.
[Maija]
She chuckles softly. “Come on. Will ain’t gonna mind if ya crash on our couch for t’night. an if he does I’ll withhold th’nookie until he admits I was right t’give ya the spot to sleep.”

Blunt, Maija.

“I’m a pretty good cook, too. Get ya fed up good an’ ya can browse his books.”
[Wendy Berber]
Oh. Oh! well.. *She nods, getting to her feet with a pop of joints.* Thanks. That’d be nicer than a hotel. You’re sure your uh.. boyfriend won’t mind? *She nibbles a nail.*
[Maija]
She shakes her head. “He won’t mind.” She stands and stretches, then makes sure the hoodie is pulled low, and she starts off toward the bus stop to catch the one that’ll take em to Williams.

She doesn’t debate the word boyfriend, but she doesn’t say it’s accurate either. They really haven’t defined anything. Who knows, it might be true that she fucks him for his books. Only time will tell.
[Wendy Berber]
*The tall kin strides behind her, eyes to the treeline warily. Never know who’s out there. She digs around in her satchel for change, nearly tripping as she does so.*