Everything is set. Everything is ready. The weather is cool but the night is clear.
Lee takes a box of matches from a pocket of her blue hoody. Rakes a wooden stick across the side. Tosses it into the mass of firewood stacked and lightly doused with kerosene. It takes a second for it to take and then...
FWOOSH!
The bonfire begins.
[It's that time again!
At least until things get going and people are familiar with who they're talking to/where they are, use the following color coded tags to preface your posts:
Performance
Food
Play
Main Fire
And if your PCs wander off into the woods or are otherwise outside of the sight/hearing of everyone else, MOVE TO PMS RAWR.]
[Wendy Berber] Performance *Wendy's tamping the planks down in the performance area. Jumping on any of them that stick up too far and could cause someone to catch a toe and break a 300 year old violin, or something equally tragic and frenzy inspiring. She'd be having more luck if she weighed more than 120 soaking wet. She dressed differently. A loose red t-shirt and baggy khaki style cutoffs that reveal white scrawny stork legs. Unfashionable, hand me down. At least her glasses are new.*
[Lonna] [main fire]
Lonna had shown up because.. well.. it sounded fun. Why wouldn't it sound fun? She'd heard about this before, heard the last one was good, and.. well... Lonna Larson was thoroughly convinced that she didn't need an excuse to go out and enjoy a decent night out.
It was getting cool. It felt like autumn- the good kind, not the kind that left her nose cold and the trees bear. But, rather, the kind of autumn that was full of color and cool weather and seemed like change. Lonna, as she found out, was actually starting to like being outside.
She parked her POS somewhere, made sure that all of her effects were in order. With that, she headed on over to stare at the big, burning pile of awesome. Attire was comfortable, but at least she did her hair today, put some makeup on. Hell, Lonna even made sure her hair was somewhat manageable.
[Lonna] (trees bare, not bear. Ugh. Homophones, why must you sound the same but mean different things!)
[Gina McClaren] Food *Gina for her part is dressed much about as she usually is. White cotton gypsy style skirt, deep sapphire tank top with gold embroidery. Sandals, and anklets and bracelets that clink and jingle. Too long hair currently braided thickly down her back, as she fusses about the food, ensuring things were the right temperature and covered properly. She's singing pleasantly to herself in a voice thats as distracting as it is beguiling. Strider kin making sure everything is in order, and nibbling a samosa.*
[Joey] [main fire]
Google maps says that it should take roughly one hour to get from the city of Chicago to Tekakwitha woods.
Joey gets there in just over forty-five minutes. The citrus green Camaro with the black racing stripes rumbles up the road and skids to a halt in the parking area. The little ('little' being relative to the bulk of the Garou population of Chicago) Rotagar leans across the seat to open the door. She reaches back into the back seat, not for the bat bag that's always strapped to her back when she's outside of The Brotherhood, but for a football. It's new, and barely used.
Once she and her passenger are outside of the car, she makes sure all the doors or locked before heading up the path in the direction of the clearing. She's wearing new sneakers, jeans, and a grey hoody zipped up to her throat against the chill. She doesn't stop until she gets to the main fire, to a cooler filled with beverages.
Grabbing a bottle of beer, football tucked under her arm, she looks around and sees Lonna.
“Hello again!” she says brightly, as if she hadn't fled the scene the last time she saw the pretty blonde Child of Gaia.
[Syndel] [/b]Main Fire[b]
It's not a party without a Fury. The Texan had spotted the note and figured...why not. But a ho-down wasn't reason enough for her to doll up...ever. The Fury was dressed casual as always; clean blue jeans, muddied hiking boots, white t-shirt ( "This is how I roll" surrounding a kid's tricycle ) and her tan leather cowboy hat tilted up. No need to shade her face tonight, enjoy the light of the fire on those bright yellow eyes.
Stepping out of the woods into the clearing, Syndel stretched her arms out and wandered over to the blaze to hold her hands out to it, enjoying the heat of the flames on her palms.
[Lonna] Main fire
She heard a voice. She heard a familiar voice, and the Child of Gaia turned. Joey says her hellos brightly, and Lonna wears pleasure openly. This is Joey. At least, Lonna was pretty sure it was Joey. Might have been Josie.
No, no Joey sounded right. Okay. Right.
"Hey!" she said. It was as if the last time they spoke either hadn't happened or hadn't ended with Joey fleeing the scene. Her yees went from the rotagar to the football, and back. "You gonna play?"
Yeah, duh, obviously.
[Drew Roscoe] [Food]
Her truck had been parked beside a small handful of other cars in some beaten up field overrun by grasses out in the rural lands that flanked Chicago and its surrounding suburbs. It had been quite a drive, and by the time she had pulled up she was wondering why the hell she'd just wasted a half a tank a gas to get herself out to meet a bunch of strangers just because Thomas left a note on her door with some insulting, vague threat tacked onto the end of it.
Well, she was already there, no sense in turning back. She came walking through the path between trees with several plastic grocery bags lined up her left arm while her right hand grasped the handle of a rolling cooler that she dragged behind her. She wore a pair of bermuda shorts that had been rolled up once so her knees had plenty of space to move, a very simple coral colored tank-top that would be an A-cut were the shoulder straps not so thin. Her hair was in a ponytail, looped through the back of a bright green baseball cap with the John Deere symbol on the front. She had older white sneakers on with socks to her ankles. She'd dressed practically for the woods, she didn't want to come home with ticks sucking blood from her scalp and ankles.
Her eyes cut across the scattered bodies that were already there, faces thrown into drastic relief by the flickering flames, shadows stretched longer than they should be by the setting sun. She shook her head and trudged onward, to the food tables, where she spotted a familiar figure, short and marvelously curved. As she rolled the cooler up to the side of the table and deposited the bags full of chip bags and salsa bottles on a clear spot on the table, she gave a vague greeting.
"Hey."
[Andrew] [main fire]
He showed up in the camaro with the crazy chick who drives fast. He has short stubbly hair so it doesn't show how much wind it got with his head hanging out the window. Cargo pants and a t-shirt are plenty. If he's here late enough for it to get truly cold, he'll find someone to snuggle with. Because really, who wouldn't want to snuggle with a man with a face like that? It's adorable. And all those muscles. Whew.
His tattered sneakers beat the path up to the bonfire area and get left under a tree near the edge. The feel of grass between his toes is much better. He pauses on his walk to the bonfire to dig his toes in. Feel the earth again. Glance off towards the big city. Smell the air and the feeling of autumn sinking into his bones. Turn his head and gaze at where the moon should be.
Then he approaches the bonfire quietly.
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] Rather than coming from the parking area, the lone Wendigo of Chicago came from the tree break, from deeper in Tek where he lived.
He carried with him a large sack of his homemade deer jerkey and a large cooler filler with venison steaks. His long hair was pulled back at the top except for a single braid down the left side of his face. His shirt was fairly new, Transformers 2 origin with Optimus on it, and pants made of suede according to his Naskapi bloodline.
Seeing many here he didn't know, he wasn't exactly sure on how social things would go for him. Not many liked the Wendigo clan. But he headed for where all the food was, and left his offering before beginning to mingle with the others.
[Joey] [Main fire]
“Hopefully,” Joey replies with something approaching a vicious grin. Joey is small and compact, and though her figure is hidden beneath a sweatshirt and jeans, it's obvious from the way she carries herself that she's athletic. A jock. Lonna's made herself presentable, Joey remembered to pull her hair into a pair of messy buns just behind her ears, and there is no make-up to cover the freckles that splash across her nose and cheeks.
Sports are what she does, and aside from fighting, what she lives for. To say she's looking forward to a game of football in that wide grassy clearing over there would be a terrible understatement.
“Might sing, too, or something. Dunno. What about you?”
[Gina McClaren] Food
*Gina gives Drew a grin. half rueful. If they had any luck the insane kinfolk wouldn't lose her head and turn this entire party into a bloody tragedy. To say the little pikey is pleased to see her would be a lie. The pretty strider kin is wary. Hopeful, but wary. A samosa is nibbled, dark eyes scanning the area for people she knows. When they come back to Drew the pikey finally speaks.*
Allo loves. Mind yer temper, there are aul sorts here, aye? Folks nae o yer tribe. Try tae mind yer P's an Qs. Fer aul o us?
[Charlie] [From Parking Lot]
He'd come with his pack, yet he's the first one to emerge from the path cutting from the parking lot. Granted, that's probably because Charlie refused to ride in the cab and leapt out of the back of the truck before the damn thing had even stopped moving.
The Theurge is wearing a plain blue t-shirt, a faded, patched-up pair of jeans, and a battered pair of gray hiking boots. He has to stop to hitch his jeans back up around his hips as he slows his trot to a stroll, and pauses a moment to gauge his surroundings.
There is no fanfare or raucous shouting to announce his arrival. He just sniffs, pushes his hands into his pockets, and starts toward the fire.
[Drew Roscoe] [Food]
Drew set the cooler down beside the table and opened it up, taking a can of Coca-Cola out from the tub of ice and shifting to stand near Gina, keeping away from the back of the table, though. She had no intention of serving. She was off work, thank you very much. She held the can out to Gina in an offering, and if she accepted it was handed over and Drew got herself one to match. If not, she simply kept the can in her hand already. One way or the other, she wound up cracking open a can, sucking the splash of soda off the side of her hand, and taking a drink.
A plain black zip-up hoodie that was tied about her waist served as a towel for her to wipe her hand at while she shifted the soda can into one hand and peered over at the woman beside her. She was being reprimanded about keeping her cool and minding her manners. This had her blinking, then snorting a small chuckle and shaking her head.
"Oh you make me sound like such a hot-head. You've just been catching me at bad times with...." She paused, re-thinking her words, then shrugged. "Well, I guess not 'bad' people, per-say, but you know what I mean. Honestly, I'm kind of a nice person." She grinned, almost cheekily at the Pikey, and took another drink from the can. Her eyes traveled across the field, to the fires and the open grassy area and the trail that had people trickling in as though it was fifteen minutes before a sermon at church.
"So, what exactly goes on at these things?"
[Imogen] [From the parking lot]
Joss had called her. Wheedled. Repeatedly, while Imogen had sat with the phone half pulled from her ear to listen to the teenager's pleas from a farther distance. Whatever the Godi had said, it worked eventually.
Joss has gotten a drive to the the bonfire.
There isn't much conversation, though perhaps Joss fills it with her own noise and voice, to which Imogen answers occasionally, as necessary. She parks the car, the Volvo, not that Aston Martin and opens the driver side door to step around to the trunk. There is no automatic lock for the boot - she turns a key in the lock to lift it, retrieving her guitar from within.
[Lonna] Main fire
"If I get drunk enough? I might have to whip out the Garth Brooks, make an ass of myself, table dance, and make with the bad karaoke. You know, standard drunken debauchery," she tells her, "I would play with you guys? But I suck at sports."
She laughed about it, too. Something about Joey's demeanor was... well... charged. Full of energy and somewhat refreshing. It was a good thing. She opened her mouth to say something, but then it was as though something had dawned on her.
"Shit, I was going to bring stuff," she starts, more to herself than anything. The Child of Gaia takes a step back to head to the parking lot. "I'll be back, it was nice seeing you!"
[Andrew] [From fire to food]
He changes tack from the fire to the food. Mmm... food. It'd been a while since he'd had some fatty greasy human food. He walks up behind the two tiny ladies. Glances at the two of them briefly and ducks around them to the table. Eyeing the assortment. Mmm... meat. But so charred. Maybe he can find one only lightly charred. His fingers twitch out of a desire to snatch something and run off to devour it alone.
[Wendy Berber] Performance
*Wendy had noticed a Lonna just in time to notice that same Lonna get up from the bonfire and leave. Well crap. The spindly kin tugs at her red t-shirt with a spindly hand before frowning and rubbing a fading bruise across her cheek. Maybe red wasn't the best color for tonight. She stomps on a "stage" plank that refuses to stay down. ...Crap.. she was going to need someone that had more weight. Her eyes scan for safe possibilities.*
[Joss Lehrer] [From the parking lot]
It had worked. finally. She'd been looking forward to the bonfire, then finding out that she was sans ride was a bummer indeed - but she'd wheedled and pleaded and even threatened once [I'll call you MA'AM! in PUBLIC! - she could hear the smirk over the phone...] and then when she was JUST about to give up...
Imogen caved.
[SCORE!]
She'd done her best not to prattle on TOO excitedly during the ride, though she did spend a bit of the time humming to herself, and generally barely holding in her teenage exuberance. Once they arrive, she smiles at Imogen, before bouncing out of the car, and shutting the door behind her, adjusting her godi bag over her shoulder to fall behind her right hip [never leave home without it!] and shaking the wrinkles from her skirts, smoothing her sweater over her belly and hips.
Satisfied, she moves back to the trunk to see if there is anything else that needs carried, smiling happily to see the guitar make it's appearance. "Thanks for the ride - in case I forget to say it later."
Like the kinswoman really had a choice... no one likes a mopey Joss.
[Lee] [Performance]
Lee hangs out near the performance area, helping Wendy and some of the staff loaned from The Brotherhood make sure that the planks for the performers are level and even. She watches the incredibly thin girl jump up and down on the end of a plank and tries not to chuckle.
As they're arranging folding chairs, she says, “Thanks for your help, Wendy.” It's awkward, but it's something. The only times she's been around the girl, that she can remember, someone else has been there, taking up most of Lee's attention.
[Gina McClaren] Food
Och.. reckon bout the same that happens at other bonfires. Thes es me ferst en Chicago. Reckon we'll find out taegether. Ye gi en trouble, find one o the boys, oor meself, aye.. hothead.
*Finally a real sunny pikey grin, that only gets wider as she sees a certain Lupus. *
Andrew Darlin.. wha are ye huntin fer? Raw meat?
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] He had been standing near the food and overhead Gina. He looked her way and cleared his throat as he made a gesture to his cooler.
"I have some raw venison steaks in there, should anyone want some."
[Imogen] [From the Parking Lot]
The kinwoman eyes the Garou.
"Bloody bundle o' energy, aren't yeh just?" she enquires, dryly, lifting the guitar case to pull its strap over her body, adjusting it across her torso. It is slightly too long, and she adjusts it a little more to her comfort. Joss thanks her, and Imogen regards her for several seconds, particularly resigned. "Don't mention it," she says, tilting her head toward the pathway.
"C'mon."
[Lee] [Reminder!
At least until things get going and people are familiar with who they're talking to/where they are, use the following color coded tags to preface your posts:
Performance
Food
Play
Main Fire
And if your PCs wander off into the woods or are otherwise outside of the sight/hearing of everyone else, MOVE TO PMS RAWR.]
[Wendy Berber] Performance
*Wendy rugs the back of her neck sheepishly, black hair shaggy a she offers Lee the ghost of a smile.*
Um. Thanks. Can you help me jump? On this one? It won't go down.
*Wow. No stutter. Apparently when she wasn't in the presence of "he who shall not be named" the tall wraithy kin could speak like a normal human. Her elbows bounce near her ears as she gives another couple of jumps, to no avail.*
Need more weight. Um.. I think.
[Andrew] [Food]
His eyes drift back and forth over the table. Then his eyes lift and land on Gina and he smiles a bit. It's twisted into an ugly looking smirk by the long scar that rails down his face. "Maybe." His eyes flick over to this unknown man. He's considered briefly, and his eyes go back to Gina. "Not sure. I may try some human food."
And his eyes go over Drew. She's new too. He's surrounded by people he doesn't know. Great.
[Drew Roscoe] [Food]
Gina, the Indian-Britt offered her a grin and playful tease of the name 'hothead'. She didn't know, but if Drew were to get into any trouble of any kind she could find Joe or Thomas or Kemp or herself. The thought had her making a bit of a face. Joe she could almost see talking to on friendly terms, but she just wasn't that at ease with Thomas yet. She couldn't quite be around him without remembering how he'd nearly squeezed the breath out of her, nearly put teeth to the back of her neck and shaken her lifeless.
She was about to open her mouth and reply when Gina spoke over her shoulder to someone that had snuck up. Drew turned around to see who had approached, and promptly slopped soda all over the grass and the toe of her right sneaker when she saw Andrew's face.
"Shit!" She yelped the profanity and hop-skipped a few steps away from him, staring a little more openly than she had really intended to. What the hell did he survive?
[Joss Lehrer] [From the parking lot]
She has the grace to grin, a little sheepishly, at that, but it does nothing to deminish the excited shine in blue eyes, where mischief dances, even as she shrugs slightly. "Can't help it."
And with that, she follows Imogen's lead down the path toward the bonfire, managing to keep from bouncing now that they're actually moving. The last bonfire turned out well for her. Perhaps this one will do the same.
[Lee] [Performance]
She's lost the stutter. Well, at least it doesn't seem that Lee's the one who brings it out in her.
Wendy needs more weight to knock the last plank into place. Lee steps over to help. It doesn't seem to be helping much, however.
“Why don't you stand over there?” Lee points to a spot on the plan about three feet away. “Maybe if you can keep that side down and I jump, maybe it'll stay down.”
Yes, that was a lot of 'maybes.'
[Gina McClaren] Food
Thes es Andrew darlin.. Andrew, Drew. Andrew's a lupus. On o our folk wha's a wolf first. aye? An ah havnae met these tall dark an handsome felly yet.
*She's got a voice people would kill for, beguiling and pleasant and smoky, if heavily accented. The curvy strider kin smiles warmly at Chanlyeya and offers a pork pastry.*
Ah'm Gina, darlin. Nice tae meet ye. Have a samosa?
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] food
Chanlyeya bowed his head graciously to Gina, and took the offered pastry. "Thank you. I'm Chanlyeya, Theurge of the Wendigo clan. It's nice to meet you as well."
[Imogen] [From the parking lot to play area]
Truthfully, Imogen had not much expected to squelch Joss's excitement. Had not truly been trying to, for all the fact that for a more sensitive soul the remark might have been cutting. So there is no disappointment at the sheepish grin, only a mild, twist of a smirk, "I can see tha'."
They walk down the pathway, working their way up the small embankment, surrounded by trees on either side. The leaves whisper as the wind passes through it.
It doesn't take long to break out into the clearing, the smell of fire leading to the sight of fire, both bonfire and cooking. Imogen's gaze flicks over the open grassy area near the path's opening before her gaze moves over the clearing in general.
The kinwoman's dressed simply - dark washed jeans, a simple dark blue t-shirt beneath a chocolate brown leather coat, the hem skimming her thighs. Her shoes are not the type to go tromping in the woods with - but one imagines Imogen owns nothing that would be.
A glance to her companion, "I'm gettin' a drink," she says.
[Joey] [Main fire]
Lonna remembers she needs to get things from her car. She's gone before Joey can offer to help carry. Oh well.
She watches the blond go back across that gloriously empty field just waiting to be played on, and that's when she sees a familiar gangly figure loping across the field. Joey takes a long drag of her beer, finishing it off before tossing the empty bottle into a nearby receptacle.
Tossing the football from hand to hand, she walks to close the distance between them.
“Heya, Charlie boy. I'm glad you could make it,” she says with a small smile.
[Wendy Berber] Performance area. Plank stompin
*Wendy nods, moving to the far end of the stage and standing on the plank in question. Lee takes up position at the other end, and suddenly Wendy has visions of being rebounded across the bonfire, flying through the air like a cartoon. She blushes slightly. Impossible. Still, she spreads her skinny legged stance a little.*
Um.. ok. Jump on it! er.. whenever your ready. You know.
[Drew Roscoe] [Food to Main Fire]
"Lupus?", she repeated, sounding exactly how one would imagine a person would sound if they were locked in a cage with a snarling bear and someone was outside the cage telling her to pat his nose and it'll make it all better. She frowned a little and, after a moment realized exactly how hard she was staring and how plain old rude that was. She looked at Andrew's eyes rather than his scars for a second, then flicked her eyes down to the top of her soda can, which was flooded with cola.
"Sorry, that was pretty asshole-ish of me."
For a second she stood, very awkward, then brought the can up to her lips to slurp the soda off of its top and spun about on her heel in an idle, wobbling motion and made a hasty escape away from Gina, who was engrossed in conversation with what looked to be a Real Live Indian and the man who had a lawnmower eat his face. Instead she walked to the blazing bonfire to stare at that for a while and pretend like she didn't feel as out of place as a piece of coal in a yard of snow.
[Syndel] ( Main Fire )
The Fury stood as close to the fire as could be comfortable, content for the moment to watch people come in and get settled. Lots of strange faces, a few familiar. No surprise in that. Her hands dropped from the flames, left hand tucking into a pocket while her right dug out a thin steel flask from her back pocket.
Knocking back a quick swig before a larger one is sprayed into the peak of the flames to watch it catch flare up into flames. Rubbing the back of her hand across her chin, she capped the flask closed and tucked it back in her pocket. Nothing like home grown Maine moonshine.
[Joss Lehrer] [parking lot to play area, headed to food.]
One imagines a lot about Imogen, perhaps, but no less so than Joss. While joss seems at home in this area, in the woods, with her simple flats replaced by her hiking boots, the earth tones she prefers to dress in, etc. Or it could be that she just seems to enjoy everything and anything - no matter where she is. Folks would be hard pressed to name a time she was in a bad mood, exactly - though if that smile of her's slips, even a little?
Anyway, bright eyes take in the clearing as they move past the play area, the scent of woodsmoke and food hanging thick in the air. Imogen's off to get a drink, and Joss grins. "Good plan... wonder if they thought to bring that lemonade stuff again..."
If so, Joss might just get herself drunk. Wouldn't that be fun for her companion?
[Charlie] [Main Fire]
He doesn't look any more tired than he normally does. When he got back to the dorms this morning, the Theurge had barely summoned the energy to pull off his boots and socks before falling onto the bed, leaving the door open for the first time in days. His sleep had not been overly disturbed despite the night he'd had, and when he woke up, it was in time to shower and slam down a cheeseburger before shuffling off to the bonfire.
Charlie gives Joey a wave as their paths cross, and he rubs at the end of his nose with his thumb as she greets him.
"I got the book," he says. "I'm like, halfway through the survival guide one."
[Lee] [Performance]
Wendy moves where directed, adjust her stance and...blushes? Lee's not about to ask questions, they need to get these planks in place so no one trips and kills themselves. How undignified would that be for the esteemed warriors of the Nation? But more importantly, if people died at the bonfire, no one would come to the next one, and the Fianna already has plans to keep this going quarterly.
“Ready.”
She tries not to think how ridiculous she looks, jumping on the end of a plank, but eventually it gets pounded into place. And now she's blushing, but that could just be the exertion. In her blue hoody and snug fitting, boot cut jeans, she doesn't necessarily look like she runs two and a half to five miles daily and takes kickboxing classes.
“Thanks. Are you going to perform anything?” she asks, as if she didn't know how timid the girl was. But if she lost her stutter when away from Alexander Vaughn, maybe she had courage to do other things when he wasn't there, too.
[Imogen] [play area headed for food]
Imogen casts Joss a narrowed eyed glance. The sunlight is slanted, the shadows growing deeper and cooler over the clearing. A slash of red runs and orange lighting craves her cheekbone, her eyes almost impossibly dark.
"If you drink too much and vomit," she informs the teenager, deadpan, "not only am I not holdin' back yehr hair, but yeh are not gettin' in my car."
[Gina McClaren] Food, beside Andrew and Chanly
Och, Wendigo then. Yer me first tae meet.
*Gina offers a welcoming smile to the native man, before guiding Andrew to morsels she thinks he'll appreciate. Anything with a copious amount of meat involved. Drew moves off, and the pikey sighs, before chasing it away with a bump of her hip to the wolf beside her, friendly grin up to Andrew. She begins digging around for a can of iced tea. Prize found and opened, Gina looks up to see Joss approaching. Woman only passingly familiar, still, she gets a soft smile. The pikey tosses herself into the grass with a bounce of breasts and jingle of bracelets.*
[Joey] [Reminder!
At least until things get going and people are familiar with who they're talking to/where they are, use the following color coded tags to preface your posts:
Performance
Food
Play
Main Fire
And if your PCs wander off into the woods or are otherwise outside of the sight/hearing of everyone else, MOVE TO PMS RAWR.]
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] food
He slowly moved with Gina, a light welcoming smile given.
"I seem to be the first Wendigo for many around here. I just hope you find no offense to it."
[Maija] [food]
She has a way of blending in, of not standing out, of fading to the background - even here, even now. To say she hadn't wanted to do this was an understatement. To say she wasn't entirely comfortable surrounded by this much rage, this many people, is an even bigger one. Inside, carefully controlled and contained, she's freaking. the fuck. out. On the outside though? She's doing her job.
And today, that job is getting a few extra bucks from the folks she used to work for at the Brotherhood, to ensure the plates on the table are always full, that empties are swept away and the drinks are always flowing. They were good to her - she couldn't say no. (...but oh, how she wanted too...)
Thus, one very skinny gnawer kinfolk does her damnedest not to be noticed, working with the food, behind the table. Her jeans are faded and frayed - 2nd hand at best, and likely from the same freebie bin as her oversized button down shirt, which is over a tanktop, both black. She makes barely a noise as she moves, she doesn't meet the gaze, and she will only speak if spoken too. She hasn't even looked around to see if she knows anyone here - she simply does her job.
If she weren't so anti-nation, she'd likely make a very good kin.
[Thomas] Performance Area
The Stage was a collection of wooden planks and craftsmanship, small but suitable for the evenings events. Darkness swarms the outer areas, collecting in the tree line and dancing across the areas outside of the fire's boundaries. Helios setting in the distance and the world within the woods, relaxed and honest. For once. Something the Garou were not all familiar with.
Some less then others.
The air just beyond the stage which blocks the bonfire's light, suddenly pops abruptly, the outline of a man existing where there was no man before. His head rolls on his shoulders and vertebrae crackle in the night. There he remains for a few moments, breathing deeply through the nose. Out the nose.
[Wendy Berber] Performance
*Wendy's jarred at the other end of the plank, but she's no longer nursing a broken jaw, and there are no vultures currently attempting to steal her soul and eat her eyes. SO all in all she's pretty content with how the night was turning out. ALso. No VAUGHN. The tall kin shakes her head, tucking her arms around herself as though she were cold.*
Um.. no. I don't play any instruments or anything. I'm um. I'm better with art. Are you? I mean.. going to perform something? Not.. the art.
*She tugs at her ear. That wasn't quite how she'd intended on that falling out of her face. But it worked. A shy smile.*
[Joss Lehrer] [play area, headed for food.]
That gets soft laughter as she grins at Imogen. "I'll keep that in mind. I don't get so drunk that I vomit though! I got my start drinking during moots with James. My tolerance is better than most..."
...so she says. There was that one time...
(but we promised never to speak of it!)
"I promise not to do anything stupid like try to outdrink the Fianna. This time." After all, it's a very long walk home.
[Wendy Berber] Performance
*And then Thomas pops out of nowhere and she jumps nearly sideways, limbs tangling as she falls on her ass in the grass to the side of the makeshift stage, eyes huge.*
[Boy] He arrives at some point, or perhaps he was returning from arriving previously, and approaches from the parking lot. The crowd swirled before him and for a moment Boy didn't look like he even had a clue where to start. But then, the smell of grilling and smoke caught his nose and he headed straight for the food.
[Andrew] [Food to Fire]
He looks over at the surprised woman. And grunts as she walks away. Curious. She's cute afterall. And her reaction has been the best he's gotten in some time. He reaches down, grabs a bun and a steaming hot dog. Plops one in the other, takes a bite, and nods to Chanleya. "Andrew." As way of introduction. Because fuck it, guy's been to a moot right? He slaps Gina's ass as he goes by and follows Drew to the Fire.
Sliding up next to and a bit behind Drew. "Scared ya huh?" His mouth still has mashed meat and bread in it. He's speaking through his lips mostly, at least. He's got SOME manners. And he chews. No drink yet.
[Imogen] [food - or more accurately, drinks]
"Well, you're in luck," A brief glance over the group, "I don't see any Fianna here at th'moment, anyway." The statement could be considered a little ironic - especially with the fiery-haired kinwoman's pure breeding as loud as it is. As indelible. Fianna, she was born. Fianna, they will recognize her as until the day she dies. By blood, at least.
The gauntlet rends some distance away, an audible sound of reality ripping. Imogen's head turns, her gaze locking on the shift and change of the world. Seconds later, Thomas appears, and after a pause, Imogen looks away.
"No lemonade," she reports. "Hard cider, though."
Briefly, the slight kinwoman's gaze passes over the others, Andrew leaving for the fire, Syndel at the fire, Wendy and Lee on the stage, the former at least completely shocked by Thomas's unexpected appearance. The others.
[Joey] [Main Fire]
“Hm?” Joey frowns, and then suddenly it smooths away to a smile and a laugh. “Oh yeah, I forgot. Well, World War Z is awesome. Sorry I lost the jacket thing. It's, like, a companion to the Guide.” She reaches up to brush her bangs back; like most of the Garou in the city these days, she's in need of a trim. Unlike a lot of the Garou in the city, her rage is low enough that she can go into a salon without completely freaking out the stylists.
She tosses the football from hand to hand, setting it spinning in the air before catching it again. “If you like the Guide I think you'll like Z.”
[Gina McClaren] Food!
Nae Chanl loves, why'd tha offend?
*Gina sips her drink and sighs, pressing it to her forehead. She shakes her head, jerking forward as her ass is slapped a little over hard by a certain rough lupus. She quirks her lips rueful as she falls into the grass to sit, taking in the folks approaching and giving them all a grin. She gives a wave to the approaching Boy. That one she knows. A nod to Imo, before her attention is back to the wendigo.*
Come darlin, have a hunker down. Feel cool grass on yer skin. Aye?
*She flops backwards, careful not to spill her drink.*
Reckon ah'm jes happy tae be oot a fookin kitchen.
[Drew Roscoe] [Main Fire]
Scared ya, huh?
A second time, sir.
Andrew's voice rumbled out gruff, muffled from food stuffed into his cheeks and still on his tongue, directly behind the petite Kinswoman, and a second time she startled, body going rigid while shoulders hiked upward and soda slopped inside the can, this time emptied to the point that it wouldn't splash out onto the ground and her dusty white sneakers.
The Kinfolk, fresh to the game, again hop-skipped a step to the side and twisted to look back at the man rolling food in his mouth, thankfully and considerately behind closed lips. She pressed the hand that didn't have a soda can in it against her chest, to quell her stuttering heart, and frowned faintly, though something about the expression (genuine as it was) still managed to be laced with the good manner of mild humor, as though she was in on the joke. It was easier to pretend that way than to get really upset.
"Twice, yeah," she answered finally, eying the tall, monstrous looking man warily. Andrew her ass, this guy was Jason Voorhees without the hockey mask, with no need for a machete.
[Thomas] Performance
The shadow detaches itself from the rear of the stage, coming around the wooden structure, one hand on the platform, those coal black eyes regarding Wendy where she sat in the grass, a frown creasing his plain features. The man is dressed in a thick gray hoodie and a pair of track pants. His feet are bare and the sleeves of his sweater rolled up to the elbow.
"You ok?" It is slightly raspy, as if the throat had been used too much in the last little while.
[Thomas] (Minus the hand on the stage part)
[Lee] [Performance]
Lee's about to answer Wendy's question about performing when suddenly there's a pop and a newcomer has arrived onto the planks making up the performance area. The skinny Glass Walker kin isn't the only startled.
Lee manages not to completely fall all over herself with shock, though she does take a step back. It's the first time she's actually seen someone arrive via the umbra. The side way. It's a little disappointing, she thought there would be more to it than that.
“Hello,” she says to the newcomer, leaning down to offer Wendy a hand up.
[Joss Lehrer] [Food]
"Perfect! No one to embarrass me, then." At least not yet. If there is any reaction to the irony in Imogen's statement - it doesn't come from Joss. She makes a face at a face at the thought of hard cider, and opts for something else instead. "Not much for cider - I'll stick to beer, then."
Decision made she reaches to take one and then notes a cooler with something else all together... "oooooooh JELLO SHOTS..." This could be a very good night indeed! She grabs one for herself, another for Imogen, and offers it with a grin - not a challenging one, per se, but one none the less.
If Imogen takes it - joss lifts her own in a 'cheers' motion, and slurps it down, before opening her beer. If she does not? Joss takes two. It'd be a shame to waste them, after all.
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] Food with Gina
He seemed to enjoy the kin's company and decided to follow her. Having a seat beside Gina, he pulled a small boda bag from his belt to drink from.
"So then, you do alot of cooking, I take it? The pastry you gave me was good. Did you make it?"
[Charlie] [Main Fire]
"The Guide makes me worry for humanity if the walking dead suddenly start... you know... walking."
Charlie reaches out to tap the football, as if to attempt to knock it out of Joey's hands. He's in a playful enough mood tonight; the moon is dark tonight, creeping towards crescent. He'll be a righteous pain in the ass in a few nights.
[Wendy Berber] Sprawled to the side of the stage
*A squeak and a nod. She clears her throat looking up to Thomas. Blinking. They'd met.*
Um. yes. Th-th-thanks. Um.. Its .. Its T-thomas.. right?
*of course. Wendy had just thrown herself in a heap for the experience of landing in the dirt. It was saturday. Thats what she did on saturday. She blushes a little and takes Lee's hand in spindly fingers, dragging herself to her fill 6 feet and brushing grass off her ass.*
Thanks L-lee. heh. G-gravity.. um. Gravity sucks.
*was that a joke? The skinny kin dips her shoulders sheepishly, fixing her spectacles.*
[Andrew] He grunts and looks around at the others around the fire. Chewing thoughfully on the fatty hotdog. Taking another bite and enjoying it while his eyes finished their survey and fell to the fire to watch the primordial destruction going on. Ringed round and controlled by humans. For a brief moment, he's irritated and he tilts his head to one side and pops something loudly in his neck.
Then the brown eyes fixate on Drew, even while she tries her damndest to carefully consider the rim of her soda. "I do that."
[Thomas] Performance
Thomas switching focal attentions is a lot like an elastic band released from it's tension. It snaps 'round on the neck to localize Lee and nail her to the spot. The eyes dance across every inch of the young Fianna kin, while the nostrils flare reflexively around the scent that his homid nose can't pick up. The head tilts slightly to one side as Lee moves to help Wendy back up, gaze following the Fianna's movements with an avid sort of abandon. Nothing shy. Nothing secret. Nothing bashful.
"Hello." His eyes flick to Wendy again. "Yes, it's Thomas, Wendy." Nothing of hesitation in that. A Skald to forget a name was no Skald at all.
[Boy] [food]
Yeah, this was where the party should start. He makes his way through the crowd, following his nose and coming dangerously close to stepping on a certain kinfolk and companion. Boy stops short, giving a surprised look to both Gina and Chanlyeya.
"Woah! Shoot. Sorry."
A quick side step and he continued on toward the hot dogs.
[Gina McClaren] In the grass beside the food, also all sprawled, but on purpose like.
*She takes a deep breath, enjoying the feel of cooling night air. The curvy strider kin wriggling into the grass to get comfortable, only to nearly get tromped on by an Uktena. Gina laughs and throws a handful of grass at the Boy's back. She half sits, unable to stay still too long. But then, she was strider blood, wasn't she?*
Ah ded endeed darlin. Reckon ye killed the deer yerself tae?
[Joey] [Main fire]
Charlie taps the ball on one of it's revolutions, setting it to wobble in the air. But Joey's reflexes are quick. She snatches it out of the air and holds it high over her head. As if she, with her shorter stature and thus shorter reach, could play keep away with the Theurge.
“Oh, I know. If it weren't for us, The Brotherhood would be fucked.” Us. Garou, perhaps. Or maybe just Charlie and herself, who have or are reading the guide that will help them fortify and defend the place where they live.
[Imogen] [Food]
Imogen's eyebrow lifts at the offered jello shot, and the challenge in the Godi's eyes. "Pass," she says concisely, leaning forward to look through the ice chest and retrieve some brand of beer she recognizes, a micro-brewery of some sort.
Joss is now two shots up on her and Imogen cracks open the beer with a nearby opener. "Cheers," gestured briefly as she casts a glance toward Boy as he circles 'round for the food. She lifts the bottle to her mouth and moves aside, giving way for any other prospective imbibers.
[Drew Roscoe] [Main Fire]
"I couldn't possibly imagine why...," she murmered, almost under her breath, the sound of her voice nearly lost to the roar of the massive wall of flames beside her, controlled by some miracle of firestarting that she certainly hadn't learned or mastered yet. She had been unable to keep all of the sarcasm out of her voice, but hoped that it was drowned out enough. But then, this guy was a wolf, not a man. Wolf in man's skin. Did this mean that when he scraped himself there'd be fur underneath? A small part of her hoped he would fall down and skin his knees so she could find out, but the other part prayed he didn't, afraid that she wouldn't be able to control her response if her pondering thoughts were correct.
She was incredibly uncomfortable with this man, and her eyes danced around his side to the small group tossing a football about. Her nose wrinkled some, and she took a few steps back. She nodded to Andrew, but didn't look him in the face again. "Well, J--.. Andrew. It was, ah, nice to meet you. I've got... things to help with," she explained in choppy bits of a sentence haphazardly looped together like a string through dyed macaroni in a kindergarten class. One hand moved up to touch the brim of her John Deere hat in a farewell, and she danced her way around to the other side of the fire, the side that flanked the performance stage rather than the buffet table.
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] Near food, sitting beside Gina
He gave Boy a chuckle and wave as the Uktena cousin of his blood nearly stepped on them and sidestepped by.
His attention then went back to Gina, still giving a warm smile as he took another drink before answering with a nod.
"Yes I did. I live not to far from here." POinting off in the general direction into Tek woods. "I made sure it was a fresh kill just for tonight. Not sure how well it will go with others, but I never go to a party empty handed."
He offered her a drink from his bag and whispered. "It's peyote."
[Andrew] Fire
He grunts again. Mouth half-full of food. "Me either." He'd heard her. Chalk it up to keen wolf-human hearing. Or just that he stalked people a lot. Cause, ya know, he's got that creepy vibe. Well, not really. But with a face like that, who's checking the vibe?
He eyes her as she wanders off. And it brings him to the football and he eyes that instead. And the blond who'd brought him. She was tiny and tackleable. If they broke out with a ball game, he hoped he'd get to jump on someone. Break some bones maybe. He could use with some bone breaking.
He shoves the last of the hotdog into his mouth and chews as he angles a bit closer to the ball spinning Joey and this Charlie guy that was trying to nab it.
[Syndel] ( Main Fire )
Next to the fire, the smell of wood was slightly overpowered by the raw scent of burning wood but it wasn't lost on the Furies stomach. Not particularly hungry yet, it was ignored for the moment. Instead she stepped back some, getting a better look around the clearing. Her eyes settled over yonder towards the stage and those gathering round that. Wondering what kinda entertain was on the list tonight. Silently praying she would remain sober enough to keep from making a scene.
[Charlie] [Main Fire]
One of them is an athlete, in prime physical condition, practically built for playing sports; the other one is a monster, barely able to remain conscious when the sun is up, built for killing more than anything else. If Joey truly wanted to keep the ball away from the Theurge, she could do better than holding it up over her head.
Charlie bats at it, mindful of her personal space yet seemingly unaware of how this might look to bystanders. He clearly hasn't heard the rumors circulating.
"Not if they destroy the--" He makes another pass for it. "--staircase."
[Joss Lehrer] [Food]
"Chicken." She says, though it's with a good-natured grin. Two shots up, it is.
When Imogen moves aside, she follows, as she turns her attention to everyone else that is here. Her gaze finds Drew as she stands and moves, head tilting slightly as she watches - there are a whole bunch of new faces here in the crowd, mingled well with those she's met and seen before.
She smiles at Boy, and lifts her beer slightly in hello. "Feeling better, I see. How's Wendy?" She says nothing about the fact they neglected to look her up as promised. She'll find them later for that.
[Wendy Berber] Performance area moving to Play
*Thomas was looking at Lee with an intensity that made Wendy uncomfortable. Wendy smiles sheepishly, and slinks away with a wiggle of her fingers. Moving to the wide open space for games and revelry. Maybe some space would be good.*
[Lee] [Performance]
Wendy is brought to her feet once more. Lee doesn't offer to help brush broken blades of grass from the girl, but instead turns her attention to the newcomer, Thomas.
“I'm Lee,” she says, stepping forward and offering her hand in greeting. She's half relaxed, half in business mode as she oversees the set-up and running of the bonfire. “There's food down that way,” she points south, “and coolers with drinks are around.”
[Gina McClaren] Food area, this where the peyote at!
Och jaysus christ Chan darlin.. Tha's the last theng ah need, thes early en the necht...
*The pretty caramel kin shakes her head to the negative. Her hair hauled over her shoulder as she begins to unbraid it, no longer worried about getting it in food.*
Leave et tae a Theurge tae breng out the shite wha'll fook ye fast an leave ye reelin. Ah'll steck tae spliffs an' beer.
[Imogen] [food, then performance]
"Not at all," replies the Kinwoman, comfortably, "I just reached my 'gelatin-based fruit-flavoured shot' quota in medical school." Her mouth twists silghtly, as she arches an eyebrow at the Godi, "Yeh still have a while to go on it, I believe."
Another swallow of beer before she sets her bottle down, glancing at both Joss and Boy as they begin to converse. She removes her guitar, stepping away to set it down near the performance area, out of the way. Briefly leaving Joss in protection of her alcohol.
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] Food area, with Gina and the peyote
He let out a laugh, and took a drink.
"Then I'll just save you some for later."
He closed the bag and tied it back on his belt.
"Your accent is beautiful, but you are obviously native as well. What tribe?"
[Thomas] Performance
His eyes fall toward her hand as it's offered, blinking slowly, before his gaze lifts toward her features again, reaching across the smallest of details (Vague curve of the mouth, red blaze hair...) and trying to place...something...
He takes her hand a moment later as he stumbles for the necessary words to describe his thoughts when Imogen comes wandering up, guitar set near the stage. Once again his head snaps 'round and his gaze finds the older Kinwoman, a flicker of recognition arriving on the heels of
"Slaughter" And a quite contemplation of Imogen's own features. Suddenly, those unknown thoughts clarify themselves and he returns his gaze to Lee, still grasping her hand without having shook it.
"...Fianna."
[Boy] [Food]
"Oh, Hey." He says, waving a hotdog back at Joss. "Yeah, we're good. It's been a crazy week but, we're alright. She uh...actually...she should be around here. She got here early to set up. Mind if we come look for you later on?"
The hotdog in his hand was already being bitten into by now, and he's distractedly preparing another.
[Joss Lehrer] [Food]
It could be dangerous, leaving a godi in protection of anything - especially THIS Godi. And by the little glint of mischief in Joss' eyes? It could be dangerous indeed... But then she's distracted briefly by a thought. "Wait, there's a quota?! Man, no one ever tells me these things. I've barely started - is there a time limit?"
Imogen moves away to stash her guitar, and Joss smiles at Boy. "I'm glad you're doing well. Come find me anytime."
She leaves him to preparing his food, and guards Imogen's beer. It's then that she hears Thomas say her name, and she turns to watch idly, while lifting her beer for another swallow. And contemplating actual food - to make sure she's some sort of cushion to soak all the alcohol up.
[Gina McClaren] Food and peyote and wendigo, in the grass
*High raucous laughter rings through the food area, distractingly contagious. Gina's eyes alight with teasing mirth.*
Och.. en a manner.. Ah'm a pikey darlin. Silent strider kin.. reckon ets dark, but me color doesnae tell the tale. Wha yer seein es me Da'. An Indian felly He was, saes ah'm tauld.
Ghandi darlin. Nae Geronimos.
Ye've been hitten yer peyote tae hard, peaches.
[Joey] [Main fire]
She could do better than trying to hold the ball up over her head. She hasn't heard the rumors circulating about the metis and the Rotagar that live in The Brotherhood. People have begun to notice that sometimes Joey goes into room 3 with Charlie and the door gets closed behind her. But Joey doesn't particularly care. They're friends, they've never done anything that would suggest they were anything else. No loud noises come from the room (except that one time when Charlie tried to bolt) and she doesn't leave the room looking rumpled or disheveled (well, except for the time that Charlie tried to bolt).
“Dude, what'd we do for food? Shit.” On his next pass, Charlie successfully manages to knock the ball from Joey's grasp.
[Andrew] [Main fire]
Abruptly ducking down and snatching up the dropped football. He spins it between two index fingers and palms it. Eyeing it curiously. He remembers one of these. Throw it around. Run with it. But always beat up the person with it. That was the game.
His eyes lift to Joey and Charlie. Coming into their conversation perhaps rudely. "Catch your own food. People keep a lot of pets."
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] Food, Gina, and peyote
Her laugh made him chuckle.
"Not exactly sure what a pikey is. Still, the whole combination...." gesturing around her entirety, "...is very intriguing. Chicago is the first real city I have been in. So I am not use to very many accents and cultures as of yet."
[Maija] [Food]
The table full, overladen even, and no empties to be taken care off currently, Maija grabs a beer and steps back to finds a quiet place to sit. She places her back against a solid tree trunk, and dark eyes follow the goings on as she settles in to relax for a bit, before more work is to be done.
She rubs her hand down her thigh, drying off her palm, and doing her best to relax, just a little, just a moment before she has to enter the fray once again.
[Charlie] [Main Fire]
Charlie doesn't catch the ball after he knocks it from Joey's hand. Maybe that wasn't his goal. In either case, the Fostern Theurge with the scarred face swoops in to retrieve it, and Charlie crams his hands back into his pockets, turning to face him.
"Yeah, but hypothetically, there are walking dead like, crawling all over the place. I say we send whoever plays music the loudest in the middle of the afternoon out to forage."
[Wendy Berber] Play area
*Wendy wanders through the open space, frowning at a bit of a grass stain along the skin of her chicken leg. She sets herself down on a upturned log, watching the various groups of people interact. Shadows flickering across the grass and dirt of the bonfire area, orange and black specters as people move and laugh and socialize. The glass walker kin draws a home bound book from her satchel and begins to doodle.*
[Boy] [Food]
He nods at her, mouth chewing at a possibly too much food. He takes a hot dog in one hand, and half a dog in the other, heading over toward the fire.
[Lee] [Performance]
Thomas takes her hand, and holds it. Lee looks down, brows quirked in a frown. However, it's not the first time she's come across a Garou who didn't seem to fully grasp human social gestures.
She looks around when he says Slaughter, recognizes the woman with the med kit and the gun from the night Lee was stabbed. She would greet her more formally, but her attention, like her hand, is still caught by the Skald.
“Yes.” She says it as she shakes his hand once, then releases her grasp. After that she doesn't really know what to say. Does she divulge more? Does she ask him what he is? It seems the younger Fianna kinswoman is has inexperienced with Garou social gestures as some of them are with the human ones.
[Curata] [Woods to somewhere]
Night wanes. A few hours have passed since the arrival of people at the bonfire. The Fianna hasn’t yet made an appearance. His pack mates are likely enjoying the company of others. Curata was last seen parking the truck, Charlie jumped out ahead of him and zoomed off from the parking lot.
The Fianna had locked everything up, glanced down the road that led from the parking lot grounds. He didn’t head that way, he took another turn, moving off into the direction of the woods. Human shape changing into his wolf form as he went for a long run to chase off a shake of the jitters, too many faces and people he didn’t know or barely knew.
Eventually, when the ahroun has worn him out from a long run, he’ll return. Emerging through the tree line from the woods, waiting until it was safe to change again and strolls out to get lost in the crowd; his tall dark shape weaving and bobbing through the different areas, scouting for familiar sights.
Curata was garbed in loose-fit cargo shorts of a dark grey material, a sleeveless cotton shirt stretched across his torso, hiding the hard cut lines of muscle and a set of work boots. Tattoos coil around the upper bicep of his left arm. A tribal skull inked into the deltoid with an a barbed chain link armband with a skull and crossbones pendant underneath it.
[Imogen] [Performance Area]
Slaughter.
Imogen's gaze flicks from where she is laying down her guitar, coming to rest upon the Skald. "Gut-Song," she greets him in return. There is clearly no love lost between the two. Which is not to suggest enmity. Simply ... dispassion.
A lowering of her eyes to Lee's hand in Thomas's. "I believe traditionally one releases the hand, once it's been shook." A cast of a glance to Lee, currently trapped in the social black hole between Garou interaction and human, before she starts back to the drinks, in particular, her own.
[Thomas] Performance to Main fire
Imogen's comment is given a brief moment's attention, his gaze falling from the Former Fianna kin to the Current one's hand, shaking once and releasing. He doesn't seem bothered by Lee's discomfort. He, in fact, seems thoroughly caught up in Lee's features, dissecting the memories of older days and heroes gone-
"...I know some of yours. Worship of drink and fury." The rasp grows quieter, becoming near a whisper. "Play, fuck and fight as if the world were ending tomorrow. Keen of tale and abandons." His gaze flickers over her again, down and then up in a scrutiny some might consider inappropriate.
"Blood~Legends aplenty with Maelstrom, I see." He begins to move around Lee once he's finished, steps taking him toward the Fire, a squint in his eyes to shield from the glare of the sudden illumination.
[Joey] [Main fire]
Andrew's comment about eating pets gets an expression of surprised disgust. To the homid born girl, eating pets is tantamount to eating human flesh. It's just...gross. And wrong.
Charlie's comment, however, gets a laugh. “The stairs are out. How do they get out there to get the food?”
She holds her hands up in Andrew's direction, indicating that she's open for a toss. “Dude, we should totally play some fucking football.”
[Gina McClaren] food and peyote
*Laughter has died to chortling and she works the rest of her braid out, hair overlong. Her hair is given one last shake as she crawls to her feet and tosses her pop can in one of the trash bins set up around the area. She offers a warm grin to Chan and a wink.*
Well ye'll gie plenty o experience en these group. Ah'm gintae come lookin fer tha Peyote, rest assured darlin. Reckon ah'll see ye later, Chan peaches.
*And with that, she snags about 3 jello shooters and flounces towards the Performance area.
[Andrew] [Main fire]
"Put some food out. Animals will find you where humans can't. Gather round, grab one." He shrugs. As though he's done it before. And the bland look on his face at the mention makes one think he might have.
He wrist flicks the ball to her, underhanded-like. "Football. Hit the person with the ball. Yeah?" Eyebrows raised.
[Joss Lehrer] [Food]
A brow quirks slightly, as she watches the interaction. Curious, perhaps, but not in a protective way. Imogen Slaughter can hold her own, thank you very much. Thus, her attention is mainly on the one she greets as Gut-Song so dispassionately.
She follows his movement with her gaze, rather than Imogens - though she she comes to reclaim her beer, the curiosity is waiting for her. "Who's that? Haven't seen him around before..."
And with a grin. "I considered awakening your beer for ya... but then I thought nah, It'd be a shame to have to walk home."
[Drew Roscoe] [Main Fire]
Well, being left alone was pleasant, at least. Moderately so, anyways. But then came the unpleasant awkward sensation of being completely alone in a crowd. What was worse? She was alone and utterly vulnerable in a crowd of beasts. She could feel the sensation of murderers and monsters licking at the back of her neck, breathing down her shirt with intent hotter than the flames that nigh-scalded her face. She sighed a little and pulled the bill of her cap up, swept her bangs up under it to secure them better, then secured it atop her head again.
A glance was cast around. Numerous unfamiliar faces. Gina was laying in the grass with the dark man, getting her mack on, the scarred man had gone away (thank god), but the other faces she knew weren't to be found. Joe would be an easy find, and he sure as hell wasn't here, same story for Kemp with his shaggy hair and hard, beanpole body. She twisted about to look over her shoulder, and spied someone she knew with a tall woman with red hair.
Thomas. Her brow furrowed a little and she took another drink from her can of cola before simply crossing her ankles and lowering herself to the ground in an indian/cross-legged/applesauce sit, knees out in a way that had to strain the hip rotators, but was nothing for a gymnast. She leaned forward, body curled over her lap, and wrapped both hands around her soda can, staring into the flames and letting her thoughts wander where they pleased.
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] Food
He grinned, and gave her a wink as well.
"Should I take off, I'll leave it in the cooler with the venison, Gina."
He remained sitting for a bit longer though, after she had left him, and watching the others at play. It was good seeing the septmembers together in a not to tense situation.
[Imogen] [Food]
Imogen's eyebrow arches slightly as she takes back the beer, glancing at it warily at Joss's comment. She tilts the glass, watching the liquid flow as expected within the amber bottle. Seeing the beer appears to be following the laws of physics, she judges it to be in good standing, and takes a drink.
"You'll have to pardon my ignorance," she says, her hand lifting to brush a droplet of alcohol from her bottom lip with her thumb, "but I wasn't aware my beer was asleep."
[Hatchet] Parking
Hatchet is asleep in the bed of Curata's truck. He's got his guitar nearby, but it still doesn't have a case. There's no blankets or pillows or a nice air mattress keeping him comfortable back there, but he snoozes all the same on the drive out to Tekakwitha, and he snoozes for some time after getting there. Hatchet sleeps deeper while bound to Bear than he ever did when he was with Weasel, than he ever did when he was with his first pack.
That was a long time ago, though.
He finally stretches out in the truck, yawning loudly and swiveling his head around to look up at the night sky. He blinks his pale eyes blearily a few times, sniffs, and then pushes himself to sitting. His hair is askew, and he runs his hand through it, twisting this way and that. Charlie and Curata are gone. He can feel them somewhere out there, but more than that, he can see the light coming through the path and he can hear people out by the fire. He can smell meat, among other things.
Grabbing hold of the side of the truck, he hauls himself up and jumps over onto the ground, reaching back in to pick up his guitar. It doesn't have a strap. It's totally unprotected, and he wonders where the hell he can set it down once he gets out there where it won't get demolished.
He'll figure it out.
Hatchet keeps walking, and soon enough he arrives at the clearing, looking out over the play area.
[Lee] [Performance]
Lee listens to Thomas' description of what is probably an accurate description of her family line. She wouldn't know to either confirm or deny. It's, not quite brutal, but matter-of-fact, direct. But it makes her blush all the same, and she's not sure if she should be offended on behalf of her ancestors or herself for being related to them.
No matter, as Thomas releases her hands and begins to move away, leaving the dumbfounded kin to stand there...dumbfounded.
She gives herself a shake and looks around. Things are mostly set up by now, the revelries still warming up, even so many hours in. The sun has long since fallen beyond the level of the trees and dipped below the horizon, making the only source of light, for the time being, the main bonfire and the cooking fires to the south.
Lee moves off and flags down kinfolk borrowed from The Brotherhood, directing them to start lighting torches around the perimeter.
[Charlie] [Main Fire]
This conversation appears to exceeded the grasp of Charlie's capacity for hypothetical discussion. In the universe that Joey's book describes, it is a virus that causes the dead to reanimate, not the End Times hastening towards them, and there are no werewolves to defend the humans in Joey's book. The dead are already walking in some places. There has yet to be a widespread epidemic.
He appears to lose interest in the conversation when the Fostern offers up a solution without addressing the issue of the downed staircase, and then the ball is in the air again. They should totally play some fucking football.
"I don't think there's hitting," he says. "There's tackling."
[Wendy Berber] Play area with a book
*Hatchet appears and Wendy feels the press of rage as he approaches, hunching her shoulders and looking behind her. She blinks and offers a shy smile and a wave.*
[Boy] [Main Fire]
He'd wandered on over to the fire, and while his mouth was full he allowed his eyes to wander over the mix of strange and vaguely familiar faces. He moved past Drew, but not without making sure he caught sight of her face, and perhaps put it to memory. He would have done the same thing to Andrew if doing so didn't nearly twist his stomach into a knot. And then he realizes he knows the man and stops nearby, nodding to Charlie and Joey as well.
"Hey guys." there's an awkward pause as he eyes the group, and the football. Kids learn a few basics when they're young. Schoolyard socializing. Something like learning how to say 'Can I play?' can change an entire life.
This knowledge is lost on Boy.
"Anybody see Wendy?"
[Thomas] [Main fire}
Thomas wanders across the space between the Fire and where he left Lee, gaze falling on the slender shoulders of a familiar form. A sharp intake of air is the only warning Drew gets before the Skald steps into place beside her and falls to his haunches, gaze landing on her features not a half-second after he'd crouched. He's about to say something else when he glances down at her hands wrapped 'round the cola and points.
"Where'd you get that?" Said as he is looking up to stare around the surrounding areas, for the location of the Beverages.
[Joey] [[Main fire headed toward Play]
The lupus suggests an option that would likely draw as many undead as it would potential food sources, at least according to the book Joey and Charlie are discussing. Evidently she doesn't think it's worth discussing further when she brings up football.
Once their minds are to the task, she starts off in the direction of that beautiful wide grassy field.
“Yeah, dude. No punches. Just, like, you body tackle people. Knock 'em down.” It's said with an almost perverse amount of glee.
[Decker] [main fire]
"So yer tha new kin."
Drew isn't left alone very long. Even on a black moon Decker's rage is momentous, rolling through the area like a shockwave. It's amazing the grass doesn't bend to the ground in the face of it.
He sits on the edge of the performance area 'stage', a few feet off to Drew's left. He's already been by the drinks. He has a bottle of Wild Turkey in hand, which he's apparently confiscated for himself. He unscrews the cap and takes a slug, then passes it toward the slight girl whose blood proclaims her, however faintly, to be of Fenris.
"Ain't nothin' but trouble, 's what I done heard." Maybe he's joking.
[Joss Lehrer] [Food]
She laughs and lifts a hand to scratch idly at her chin, as she watches the wary look Imogen gives her beer. "Well, see. It is - on the other side. But if you waken the spirit within - it makes it extra potent. You'll get yourself quite drunk, quite fast, and I figured you'd likely kick my ass in front of everyone and wouldn't THAT be embarrassing for me?"
And easily done, because the Godi'd be laughing to damn hard to fight back, even if she wanted too. Then again, explaining to Decker why his mate kicked her ass in front of more than half the sept - well, that could be bad...
"If anyone offers you awakened weed, it's the same principle. That's some good shit, for sure." Ah... teenagers.
[Charlie] [Main Fire]
"Um..."
Charlie steps back from the group to scan the area. Wendy is no longer jumping on the stage trying to get it to cooperate, and it's only by chance that he feels the nearness of Curata and then Hatchet. It draws his attention back toward the play area, and that's when Charlie indicates the folded-up form of Boy's mate on the ground at the edge of the play area.
"There she is."
[Gina McClaren] Performance Area
*Gina gets near the stage and ..finds Lee's departed while she was blinded by the fire. Well christ. The pikey yawns and downs a jello shooter. A lone curvy figure wanders the stage, checkin it for her purposes. Decently flat, smooth, nothing to tear up her feet. Good. She digs around in the bushes to see if some jackass has made off with her bag of tricks.*
[Hatchet] Play Area
Hatchet glances down at Wendy when she waves, his eyes catching the slight motion a little too sharply. He pauses, then gives her a small smile, recalling being introduced to her here, three months ago. He gives the Kinswoman a small upwards nod, scans the area for his packmates -- though this is more just to see where they are, what they're doing -- and then heads for the Food.
[Imogen] [Food]
"Hm." A brief glance toward her drink again before taking another swig. "Warn me should you find me about to partake o' somethin' like that, will you?"
A glance toward Thomas, as he passes them for the fire.
"Met him yet?" a gesture toward the shaved-head Skald with her beer, "He's a tribesmate o' yours." She appears to refer to the Fenrir the same way as she does the Fianna - a group of which she is not a part.
[Boy] [Main Fire]
"Thanks" He says to Charlie, and heads over toward Wendy. Its a graceful descent from standing to sitting on his own heels next to his mate.
"Hey" He says, and hands her the uneaten hot dog.
[Jeremiah McNamara] [Emerging onto Play Area]
Marshal Sullivan - Fianna kinfolk, known to at least the Brotherhood staff and new found drinking buddy of Reuben Coltrane - had arrived early, making several trips from his truck to the food set-up, lugging coolers and trays of his cousins prepared dishes. Some time later, after seeing to the goods, he'd left the bonfire and driven back to the city. Arriving back again, there's a woman with him, shapely and petite in dark jeans and boat-neck cable knit jumper, the thin strap of a tank top peeking from one slightly exposed shoulder. Her complexion a fair olive, whereas the mans is just plain fair, still there's a hint of family resemblance about them. Both with raven hair and a certain bold line of nose, round of cheek.
Granted, what immediately catches the eye isn't how she looks or he looks, it's the long, collapsible white guide-cane she holds in her left hand, maneuvering it with small, deft motions as she walks, her right hand resting lightly on his left forearm. Her face is slightly tilted, listening to something he says with a grin, an answering smile slight and gentle on her lips, but somewhat distracted. She's nervous. It's been awhile since... well, it's been a while. Emerging onto the large expanse set aside for assorted play and rough housing they pause.. his head moving to take in the going ons. Her eyes sweeping back and forth slowly: Clear, sensitive and utterly useless.
[Maija] [Food]
A swallow, two. Another. She's keeping a wary eye on all before her, while making sure the food and drinks are flowing. She fades easily into the background, even now as she stands to add another case of beer to a cooler so that it can get chilled before it's taken.
That done, the cardboard is crushed, and added to the 'to be burned' pile, and she survey's the table, rearranging things here and there to make more room, picking crumbs from the table, and keeping it clean.
[Boy] [Main Fire] to [Play Area] that is.
[Curata] [Food]
He can feel the presence of the others. Hatchet waking up from his sleep and Charlie near the main fire heading to the play area; his eyes narrow as he skims the grounds barely catching sight of Charlie as he settles into the food area.
Curata moves around the tables, plucking up a cold beer bottle up from a random cooler and then browsing over the selections of meats and food at the tables. He finds a plate, loading it up with anything he can eat using his fingers without making a huge mess.
His dark head lifting up as Hatchet’s presence grows closer, scanning the crowd of faces.
[Thomas] Performance heading to Food
...The Skald settles back on his haunches again as Decker steps into view, his attention ratcheting around toward the tall Modi, briefly flicking up toward his face.
"Jarl." And then standing again, without Drew offering him a response to his query. He steps back, whether to leave the Kin alone with the imposing Jarl or to actually go and retrieve a drink, is uncertain. Nevertheless, he gives the pair a wide berth and begins to head toward the Beverages.
[Drew Roscoe] [Main Fire]
Thomas dropped into something of a crouch instead of a complete sit beside her, and Drew's shoulders tensed, climbed a little higher, but she didn't startle as she had done when Andrew had surprised her twice. She turned her head to look at the man , the angle of his knees, the set of his muscles, judging how relaxed or, otherwise, braced for motion he was. She contemplated his face, the expression it wore. Finally, after a few long seconds, she let out the breath she was holding in a slow exhale and nodded over toward the cooler beside the buffet table, which would have her nodding straight through the fire.
"Cooler beside the mountains of food. Blue one with the wheels."
Her tone was a little terse, and the tone of the last sentence suggested that she would say more, but then a voice like thunder sounded behind her, off to the side, and she twisted her head to look at Decker. She blinked a couple of times, once, twice, then his Rage hit her like a slap of ice water in the face. Her jaw locked, her spine stiffened, and her grip on the coke can slackened enough that it thumped onto the grass and started to dribble out onto the ground.
"I.. ah.." Stammer, stutter, fear. He was probably used to this by now. Stuck between a murderer and his murdering boss, it seemed. "I, ah, suppose that's right..."
[Joss Lehrer] [Food]
She grins, with a nod. "I will."
Though it'd be funny if she didn't....
She looks toward the Skald again, and shakes her head. "Nope. First I've seen of him. And the girl sitting with Decker, too." Though the girl in question isn't so much sitting with Decker, but being flanked suddenly by two Fenrir. Poor kid. Does Joss head to the rescue? Not at all.
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] Food
Slowly, the wendigo gets to his feet and moves back over to where the food is. He looks over everything, and settles on taking another pastry and a can of soda.
[Wendy Berber] play area.
*Wendy watches Hatchet move off towards food, jumping a little as Boy plops down beside her.*
OH! um.. *Expression of surprise softening into shy affection, she takes the hot dog gratefully, tucking her book away.*
Hey.
[Imogen] [Food]
Imogen's eyes move slightly to rest upon the Adren Modi, towering over the newly discovered Fenrir Kinfolk. It's lasts a mere second too long, then her attention turns briefly back toward Joss at the completion of her sentence, lifting her chin to indicate Thomas on his approach.
"Here is your chance fer introductions."
Imogen, bringing Fenrir together.
Or something like that.
[Joey] [Play]
Joey's got the ball again, and she's leading at least two people out into the area left clear so people like her can horse around. She doesn't intend to hold back. She may be relatively small compared to the others, but she's fast, and sports are kind of her thing.
She wanders up to where Wendy and Boy are. She's met Boy before, talked to him once or twice, but it's been some time. That doesn't seem to matter to the Fenrir, who unzips her grey hoody and tosses it to the ground beside Wendy's hip. “Watch that for me, will ya?” No please, no thank you, no Hey, you might want to watch out because we're going to be violent over here.
The removal of the hoody reveals a baseball jersey style long sleeved shirt; the torso is grey, the sleeves and shoulders are dark green.
Now where were the others? She turns to look around for Charlie and Andrew, walking backwards as she does to put some space between her and the couple in the grass. And she realizes...three is not enough. So she draws in a deep breath, cups her hand to her mouth, and shouts as loud as she can:
“FOOTBALL!”
[Boy] [Play Area]
"Hey. How's it going so far? The place looks great. Oh, and...I just saw Joss. We were supposed to go talk to her but..."
[Charlie] [Play Area, near Mia]
Charlie gives Boy a nod, and as he turns around to follow Joey and Andrew out to the play area, he notices a pair of figures heading from the parking area. He recognizes his kinswoman before he sees the guide cane, and cuts a quick glance over to the pair he is supposed to be joining before breaking into a trot, hurrying across the play area to intercept Marshall and Mia.
"Hey," he says, slowing to a walk at about five yards. Mia can likely feel the heightened press of his Rage before his voice sounds out. It hasn't diminished any since the last time Mia came to visit at The Brotherhood, although he does feel as though he has a bit more control over it, now. The air isn't electric with the threat of the Theurge snapping at any moment.
FOOTBALL!
Catching up will have to wait.
"I'm about to get my ass kicked," Charlie amends. "You gonna stick around for a while?"
[Syndel] ( Main fire to Play )
Football? Syndel looked over towards the grassy field and spied a small group. Too small to play by themselves...she shifted on her feet for a moment before turning on her heel and walking over to the group. She looked at Joey and Andrew, giving them both a upward nod before looking at Charlie and smiling. " Hey Charlie. Ya'll playing some ball? "
[Decker] [fire --> play area]
Guess she didn't want the Wild Turkey after all. Decker looks at the spilled coke, unimpressed, and then knocks back his bourbon again.
"'sup," he greets Thomas, a lift of the chin accompanying. Might've said more, but the Skald's moving on, and anyway --
FOOTBALL!
-- Decker takes a big slug of whiskey, sets it aside atop the stage, caps it. Gets up, pulling his sagging jeans up and belting it an inch higher. "I'm'on play," he says to Drew, offhand, either politely ignoring that the girl was terrified or not giving a damn. "You comin'?"
[Danicka Musil] Parking
She's late. She knows she's late, though something like this does seem to invite a come-and-go attitude. But she did work on the pastries to bring, and she did take the damn time, so some part of her actually thinks it might've been a good idea to show up closer to the scheduled 'start' time. At least what she's bringing qualifies as dessert, not dinner. At least she's not the hot dog bun bringer.
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] [food]
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] Play area
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] Foodto Play
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] [Play Area]
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] Food
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] [Play]
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] [Fire to Play Area]
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] [Play Area]
Its swift and firm, the hand that slaps Wendy on the back.
[Thomas] Food
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] Food
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] [Main Fire to Food]
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] choking in play area
*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] [Food]
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] [Mia -> Football]
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] [toward football!]
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] [Food]
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] [Food]
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] Food
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] [Play] to [Fire]
And scramble they did. Or she did rather. He gathered up Joey's hoodie and followed after her. Slowly. Still. Watching. Football.
[Drew Roscoe] [Main Fire]
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] Re-emerging from bushes to performance area
*She re-emerges victorious, tambourine held high as she stumbles form the bushes. *
HAA!
*She exclaims to no one in particular.*
[Chanlyeya Greyeyes] Play
He watched as others began to gather, standing off on the sidelines and taking occassional drinks of his soda.
[Wendy Berber] Fire
*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.
[Lee] [People who are PLAYING football, rolls are happening in the IC room
Watchers stay here for recaps]
[Kemp] [color=Color]Passing through perfomance area.[/color]
"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?"
[Lee] [Rolls in the new subroom!]
[Jeremiah McNamara] [Play to Food]
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] [still heading toward football]
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] [Fire]
"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] [food]
"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] Food
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] Food
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] Fire
*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] With KEMP headed to FOOD
*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] [Main Fire]
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] Fire back to PLay
He smiles at her widely, stepping forward and giving her a kiss flush on the lips before trotting back to the playing field.
[Imogen] [Food]
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] Food
"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] FIRE!
*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] Food toward Play Area
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] [toward football!]
"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] Play
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] Food
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] Food area, drug alongside Kemp
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] [Food]
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] Back at Food Apparently
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] Play Area
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] Food
"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] FIRE
*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] moving to fire
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] [Heading in toward Food]
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] [Main Fire]
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] [Food]
"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] Food
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] Play Area
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] Retracting hand, intact, from Thomas, near food + Kemp.
*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] [FIRE]
*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] Food
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] Fire
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] Food
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] Food
"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] FIRE
*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] Fire
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] [Food to Play area]
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] Food
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] [Food area]
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] Food
"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.
[Wendy Berber] *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.*
[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] [food]
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)
[Charlie]
[Drew Roscoe] [Dodge!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 8, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6) [WP]
[Gina McClaren] ((Ahem -- fixing))
Food. GINA
*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] Food
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] Food
"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] [Parking lot to Stage]
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] [Food]
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] FIRE
*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] [Main Fire]
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] [Main fire]
"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] Fire
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] Talking to Hatchet, looking at Mia
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] Edge of Play Area
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] [Food towards Fire]
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] FIRE
*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] [Food]
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] Food
"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] Fire
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] [food!]
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] Food
"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] [Main Fire]
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] [Fire!]
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] Food to Main Fire
"...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] (Fire)
"Shut up."
Quiet, low to Jeremiah.
[Mackenzie Walsh] [Food Area to Stage]
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] Food, close to hatchet, watchin the fenrir
*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] Food to Fire
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. In any case, it's not your concern."
[Kemp] Food
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."
[Hatchet] [correction: "...hurting her more than anyone else is."]
[Wendy Berber] FIRE!
*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] Fire
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] [Food]
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] Talking to Kemp
*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] [Fire]
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] [Fire]
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] [Main Fire]
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] {fire}
*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] Talking to Gina
"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] [Fire]
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] [...and back to Food Area.]
"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] [Football -> Fire]
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] Fire
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] Food area, talkin at Kemp
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] [Food]
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] [Food]
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] [Fire]
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] [Main Fire]
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] (food!)
"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] Fire
Chan gets up and follows Wendy. "Are you sure you want to get involved in this?"
[Hatchet] Fire
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] FIRE
*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] Food
"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] [Fire/Food]
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] WENDY
He carefully pulled Wendy next to him. "Say the word, and I will pull her out of there."
[Imogen] [Food]
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] [Fire]
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] Food area
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] [Fire]
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] Play Area
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] [Performance Area]
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] Fire
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] {FIRE}
*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] [Fire -> Football]
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] Fire
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] [Food]
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] layin in the grass
*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] [Parking]
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] Food
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] Walking off
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] Play Area
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] [Parking Area]
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] [Fire]
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] nudging Maija
*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] FIRE
*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] [football]
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] [Food]
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] [Food]
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] Fire
"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] Fire
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] [Parking]
....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] [Football]
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] [play area]
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] Food and marijuana
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] Football
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] [Fire]
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] Off following ding dong Thomas
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] Play Area
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] [Food - Gina]
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] [Football]
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] [Play Area]
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.
[John Thornton] ((Last was parking, btw. *shakes head at self*))
[Hatchet] Football
"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] [Food to Fire]
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] Fire
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] Food and Maija
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] [Football]
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] [Parking]
"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] [Fire]
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] [Food, moving toward the performance area]
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] Football
"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] {fire}
*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] [Fire]
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] Fire
"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] Moving to the stage!
*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] [play]
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.
"Dani&+269;ka. Podívej se na m&+283;."
[Mackenzie Walsh] [Fire]
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] [Parking]
"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] [Moving to the stage]
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] [Behind the Performance Area]
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] {fire}
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] [Fire]
"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] Play Area
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."
[Kemp] (( Night! Thanks! ))
[Gina McClaren] Sitting in front of stage
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.*
[Imogen] (Thanks for the RP, Blu!)
[Joey] [Play]
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] Fire
He seemed to perk up a bit.
"Really? What did the ghost want?"
[Hatchet] Behind the Stage
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] [Fire]
"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."
[Maija] [Performance area - Gina/Kyle]
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.
[Wendy Berber] [fire]
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] [b][/b]
He gave a quick nod.
"That sounds fine. Perhaps I can help somehow. Does your pack have a theurge?"
[Boy] [Play Area] to [Fire]
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] [Performance Area - Gina/Maija]
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] [Fire]
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] Performance
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] {fire}
*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] ( Play to Food to Performance )
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] [fire]
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] Fire with Wendy
"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] [Behind the Stage]
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] Gina sprawled on the grass in front of stage
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] [Playing field]
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] [Fire]
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] [Front of Stage]
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] [performance area]
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.
[Boy] [Fire]
[Hatchet] Behind the Stage
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] [Fire]
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] [Fire]
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] {fire}
*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] [fire]
"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] Fire
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] Play Area
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: "P&+345;inesl jsem krabi&+269;ku je pro vás. Je to v aut&+283;."
[Kyle Velener] [stage]
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] [Heading to Fire]
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] [Performance moving for Food]
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] [fire]
Decker smirks. He imbues the single word with all the skepticism in the world. " 'Protestin'?"
[Gina McClaren] Performance area/out in front
*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] [play area]
A smile: quick to birth, slow to bloom. "Mám t&+283; 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] [Fire]
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] {Fire}
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] [Fire]
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] [Fire]
"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] [performance]
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] [fire]
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] ( Stage )
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] [Behind the Stage]
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] Fire
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] [Fire]
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] Play Area
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] [play]
"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.
"Poj&+271; sem dol&+367;," he says as the first chords of a guitar ripple through the clearing.
[Hatchet] Behind the Stage
"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] [Fire]
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] Food back up to Performance
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] Fire!
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] Out front of stage with guitar playin goth
*Gina seems content for the moment, to lounge in the grass and nibble on a samosa. Watching Kyle play with interest.*
[Kyle Velener] [stage]
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] [fire]
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] {fire moving to Food}
*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] Fire with Wendy and Boy
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] [Fire]
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] Play Area
"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 p&+345;ed všemi t&+283;mi lidmi," she says, half-coyly, but there's underlying seriousness to it. "&+344;eknou vám, jsou slabé."
[Syndel] ( Behind Stage. fugly color thingie ain't working! GRRR)
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] [Fire]
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] [Food]
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] Behind the Stage
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] [play]
Lukas laughs quietly. "Je mi jedno, pokud oni to tak &+345;íct." It's a statement, almost offhand. He doesn't push again. A moment later, the smile fades a notch. "Je to lepší, než jiné v&+283;ci, které by se &+345;íct."
[Danicka Musil] Play
Her brows draw together. "Like what?"
[Boy] [Fire]
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] [Behind the Stage]
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] [play]
"It doesn't matter now." The smile is wholly gone now, leaving his face even, smooth. "They don't say it anymore."
[Marrick] Fire!
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] [fire]
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] Food with Maijia
*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] Fire with La Familia
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] Behind the Stage
"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] [Fire]
"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] [Fire]
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] Fire with Boy and Chanlyeya
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] Play
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] [Food]
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] ( Behind the Stage to Food )
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] Ambushed at food
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] [Stage]
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] Fire with La Familia
He thought about it for a moment.
"When do you think it will strike again?"
[Katherine Bellamonte] [Food]
"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] [Back of Performance]
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] [fire]
"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] [Fire]
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] [food!]
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] [Fire]
"No way of telling. Though...There was something familiar about it. It felt like...Rage. So, maybe, at the next full moon."
[Gina McClaren] Stage areas
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] [food]
"Oh look," Alex fires right back, "it's Marie Antoinette. Someone get me a fuckin' guillotine."
[Kyle Velener] [stage]
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] Fire with La Familia
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] [food]
"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] Back of Stage towards Parking
"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] Panic at the food area
*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] ( Foooood )
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] [Stage]
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] [Fire]
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] [fire]
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] [Fire]
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] [Fireside]
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] [Fire]
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] [food]
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] Fire with La Familia
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] [fire]
"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] Fire
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] Stage area gets sexy
*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] [Fire]
"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] [Fire]
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] [Fire]
"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] Parking
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] [play]
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 ... zú&+269;tování jim ven z mi z cesty."
[Marrick] Fire.
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] Food.
"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] [Fire]
*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] [Fire]
"Well, I think Andrew might have tackled him in the first play, but yeah, Charlie finished him off in the next one."
[Kyle Velener] [stage]
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] [fire]
"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] ( Food to Faiyah )
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] Play
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 St&+345;íbrný Zub?"
[Marrick] Fire to playing field
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] [food to playing field]
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] [Fire]
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] [Fire]
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] setting fire to a stage
*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] [stage]
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] Going to the play area, yelling back at the fire
"Nah, I'll eat in a minute! This is kinda important!"
[Wendy Berber] {Fire}
*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.*
[Mackenzie Walsh] (Don't lose it over the cooties.)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 4, 5, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Mackenzie Walsh] (oops. wrong Char.)
[Katherine Bellamonte] (GOD DAMN IT. This window.)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Lukas] [play]
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. "Zapome&+328; na to." It's almost offhand, though the smile is genuine. "Je to &+345;ešit. Nezáleží na tom te&+271;."
[Boy] [Fire]
"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] [fire]
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] play!
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] [Fire]
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] [food]
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] Stage area
*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] ( Faiyah )
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] Play
"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] [stage]
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] Play
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] [food to play]
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] Curled by the fire.
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] [Fire]
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] Play!
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] [Fire]
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] ( Faiyah )
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] Play
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] Curled by the fire
*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] [Fire to Play]
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] [play]
"'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] [Fire]
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] foood!
*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] [play]
"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, Dani&+269;ka," and he slips between languages almost as effortlessly as she would, and does. "Ale ned&+283;lají to, protože se bojíš toho, co blázn&+367; šepot. Nevadí mi, když já jsem podcenil, tak jako tak."
[Kyle Velener] (brb cooking dinner :) )
[Maija] [Food]
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] [fire]
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] Play
"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] ( Faiyah )
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] fire
*Wendy leans towards Boy and murmurs something in his ear, before leaning back expectantly. Clearly waiting for an answer.*
[Imogen] [Fire]
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] Play
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.
[Gina McClaren] Talking to Maija
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] [Fire]
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] [Fire]
"'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] [Fire]
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] Fire
*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] [Play]
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] [Food/Gina]
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] ( Faiyah )
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] [fire]
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] Play
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] [Stage]
Slipping his collar back on Kyle picks up his guitar and starts playing softly.
[Imogen] [Fire]
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] Play
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] Play
"Yeah, spell it out fer me. Y'don't think I got good reasons an' I wanna know why."
[Lukas] (play)
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] food
*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] [fire]
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] [Food]
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] [stage]
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] Play
"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] [Performance Area]
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] Fire to Parking lot
*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.*
((night all!!))
[Joss Lehrer] [Fire]
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."
[Kyle Velener] (night. Take it easy :) )
[Syndel] ( Faiyah )
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] Play
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] [fire]
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] [Fire]
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] Sinclair
Sun 4:19 am
Play
"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'."
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."
[Marrick] (shit! Disregard that!)
[Sinclair] [*CHEERS FOR MINDY*]
[Marrick] [play - Now with 50% less post!]
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.
"Nebu&+271;te vyd&+283;šený."
[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
[Decker] (shit. lukas is in the play area. decker is by the fire.)
[Marrick] [play]
"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] [play]
"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] [fire]
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] [fire]
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] [fire]
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?"
[Joss Lehrer] [fire]
[Decker] [fire]
"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.
[Decker] (fading decker out! thanks for the play, all!)
[Kyle Velener] [fire]
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] [Fire]
"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] [around]
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] [Play]
"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] [fire]
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] [near woods]
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] [around]
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] [around]
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.
(night ya'll.)
[Marrick] (we gotta go to initiative, sorry!)
[Maija] ((And Maija is there till the end, cleaning up and generally being silent and unobtrusive and all fadey into the background, because the player is sleeping. Night ya'll.))
[Kyle Velener] (night :) )
[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]
[Alexander] 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] [Fur Gnarl: Dex + Brawl]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Lukas] (cough)
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)
[Sinclair] [...Yeah I split actions. Delete rolls.]
[Sinclair] [DO OVER]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Marrick] (soak, I think? -2 because that's unpleasant)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 9 (Failure 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] (and the 2 for the first)
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 2 (Botch x 1 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.
"V&+283;&+345;ím 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 pat&+345;í.)
"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?"
[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."
[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.
[Lukas] 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?
[Alexander] (FUCK'S SAKE.)
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?
[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.
[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.
[Alexander] This time he doesn't call her back. He watches her go, eighteen years old, country bumpkin out of buttfuck nowhere, oklahoma; ferocious, terrifying ahroun of the nation.
When she's gone he turns back to where the Garou of his supposed tribe, or at least his twin brother's tribe, lies. She's all torn open and bloodied and looks like goddamn roadkill, but her eyes are her own, a blue rather like electricity on a live wire.
Which is appropriate, given the tribe.
"Jesus," he comments, "what a fucking mess."
A pause.
"Listen, all I've got is a motorcycle, which you're not bleeding all over even if I could someone fit you on it. So ... I can either call your packmate or drive you back in your car. Or if you've got another idea, I'm all ears."
[Alexander] (someone? someHOW.)
[Sinclair] She'd never describe her own eyes as electric. Then again, Sinclair would never describe her own eyes as anything but 'blue'. Marrick's eyes, she might give poetry to. Alex's. Decker's. Joey's. She might describe the flash, the color, the spirit they are supposedly windows to, but her own eyes:
blue.
And nothing more. Her own blood: red. Or hot. Sinclair tells very few stories about herself. Those, she writes down. Files away. Keeps password protected, her entire history laid out for someone to find when she is no longer there to maintain it, perform upkeep, build it farther.
Her tail twitches when Alex walks over and speaks to her. Her eyes roll up to look at him, because she isn't moving from the ground. She lets out a wuff, and with a shudder, starts to push herself to her feet. Her legs are shaking, and one of the gashes across her midsection reopens, seeping blood again. Without a word -- obviously -- she starts towards the parking area, noticably limping.
--
The El Camino is dark green, and Alex may be familiar with it from the parking lot but he's probably never seen Sinclair driving it, or working on it. It has black fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview, still. Sinclair all but collapses next to it when they get there, and since she can't focus well enough after that walk to shift only her throat, she lets her body unfurl into the nearly hairless form she was born in.
Some of the blood has dried and flakes off of her. The lights here aren't fire but a couple of tall lamps. The tattoo on her left hip is words. The tattoo on her right thigh glistens with newness. It's a green and black viper wrapped three times around her, fangs apparently biting into her femoral artery. Her back is away from him, so he can't see the scars covering most of it.
"It's unlocked," she rasps, sitting quite unceremoniously on the ground, her legs drawn up if only to hide the mess that is her midsection. "And there's... these little clay jars in the glovebox. If you could get out like... two of 'em... that'd be awesome."
She folds forward, and puts her forehead on her knee.
[Alexander] Alexander, unlike any number of fluttering, hand-wringing kin, does not help Warcry stand. He doesn't tell her to lie still, tell him what she needs. He doesn't offer to carry her on his back, though -- 5'9" or not -- he certainly has the strength to stagger a hundred yards with a hundred-pound wolf on his back.
But no. Whether because he recognizes in this some necessity, some pride, or simply because he doesn't want her bleeding all over him, Alexander just watches. And when she's on her feet and limping off, he follows.
She leaves a trail of blood, and this, he wouldn't have fancy words for, either. It's just red.
--
"You could've just told me this before you dragged your carcass all the way out here, you know," he says when she tells him unlocked car, clay vials, etcetera. It's mostly lip service. Alex, remarkably, isn't really in a mood to taunt and press on bruises right now. He's already circling around to the passenger's side when she tells him where and how. Once there, he pops the door open, leans in, opens the glove compartment, and rustles around for a while --
"You've got like, fifteen parking tickets in here, do you know that?"
-- before finding what she's talking about. He gets the litle clay jars. Two of them. And he comes back, and she's nearly naked and her body is a rather fascinating map of tattoos and piercings, but Alex isn't particularly turned on, or even interested in looking very hard, because good fucking god, she looks like something you'd find at a guro convention.
In fact, he tries not to look at her much as all as he comes back to drop to a crouch and hand her the two clay pots she's asked for.
"Ugh." We lied; he looked after all. "I think I can see your spleen."
[Sinclair] [Go Go Gaia's Breath!]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 7 (Success x 1 at target 5)
[Sinclair] [And again!]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 4, 4 (Failure at target 5)
[Sinclair] [*dies*]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 4, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Sinclair] [I know what I'm doing, just go with it.]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 2 (Botch x 1 at target 5)
[Sinclair] "Yeah," she says, her voice muffled by her posture, by the distance between where she's curled up and where he's poking around in her glovebox, "I know."
The parking tickets. Those are the ones she doesn't have a chance to talk her way out of, using a Gift and the sheer force of her presence to convince the officer not to care that she was speeding. There's not fifteen. There's more like six. But she hasn't counted, and she doesn't really give a fuck right now about Alex's estimation. Amidst the clay pots there are also little metal buttons, black ones with a red version of the tattoo she has on the back of her neck. There's USB keys clattering about. Some energy bars. Kleenex. Chapstick. Makeup. The glove box has just about everything in it except gloves.
She could have told him before they got out here about the talens, and she could have stayed out in a pool of her own blood as Kinfolk milled about in horror, but whether it was pride or simply wanting to get the fuck away from everybody, this is how she ended up playing it. This is what she wanted. The last thing she wants is a bunch of witnesses saying they saw Alex run off in a frantic hurry to get her some healing talens, hurrying back to aid his fallen champion.
Sinclair sways on the ground slightly, waiting, only looking up again when his footsteps crunch nearby and he hands over the little clay jars, each one sealed with wax. They're not quite gourds. Times change. The spirit is the same, and the clay is still covered in glyphs painted on singing praise to Gaia, not that Alex would know the difference.
"Yeah, well," is all she has to say about her spleen, "something to write home about. 'Saw Warcry's spleen today. It was pretty squishy-looking.'" And with about as much energy as she has to do it with, she demolishes the fragile little jar, crushing the clay to dust. Reddish-brown fragments and nothingness pour from her palms onto her stomach, onto her chest. It does almost no good, but it does better than waiting. She picks up the second one and does it again.
And it does little more. At least now all her internal organs are tucked away, but there's still a broad gash across her middle.
"Fuck my life," Sinclair breathes, then looks at Alex. "Hey..."
--
It takes, ultimately, one more trip back to the passenger side door for Alex and a grand total of five of the six little clay pots that were in the glove compartment. And in the end, she's still injured, though the gaping wounds are now manageable, something she could wrap gauze around and be done with... if she had any gauze. Truth be told by the time she's covered in as much clay dust as dried blood, Sinclair's surprised if Alex is still there, though she didn't exactly stop to tell him he was Free To Go after bringing her the rest of the talens.
But if he is.
"Now... if you tell me," she says, pushing herself to her feet, one arm tucked over her middle, her head turned to spit out red-tinged saliva, "that you're just playing hard to get with Marrick, I'm gonna put your head through a wall."
[Alexander] Amazingly, he is still there. It's possible he just wants to see how many of those magic pills she burns through before she decides she's good to go. But that means when she's done, and getting up, and telling him what she tells him, he's still around to hear it. And Alex gives Sinclair one of those looks, the ones that are equal parts what the fuck? and are you fucking kidding me? and plain old huh?
Then he opens his mouth. His big, fat mouth.
"Where the fuck do you get off, Sinclair? What is this implication that I'm playing games? And even if I was, which I'm not, what is this fucking implication that you get to tell me what games I can or can't play? What is this idea that I owe you something, and now I gotta play right by your rules or you get to put my head through a wall? Did I ask you to go get your ass beat to shit? Did I tell you to save me, save me from the big bad Fury? Did I ask you to mouth off to the crazy little Fury girl with a crush?
"Fuck no. All I did was offer to drive your bleeding ass home. And follow that bleeding ass out to your car. And fetch your goddamn magic pills -- twice -- so you could stuff your goddamn intestines back in. Like a fucking good little kin."
He's pushing himself to his feet now, too, dusting his knees and his ass off with angry, short swipes of his hands.
"So if you're done throwing your weight around at someone you actually can beat up, I'm going the fuck home."
[Sinclair] If she had an ounce of Rage left, it might piss her off so suddenly that it would take a monklike exertion of self-control to stop herself from beating a dent into the hood of her car with his head. As it is, Sinclair stands there staunching what's still bleeding with her arm across her belly, looking...well. Horrific, still. She's a dirty, bloody, scarred and inked little savage, and she could only look moreso if she was pierced with bone and not metal. And she just stares at him at first, letting out a heavy sigh when he gets around to
if I was, which I'm not
that in the language of sighs says something like
here we go.
He asks a long series of rhetorical questions, or maybe he wants answers when he asks them and doesn't want them by the time they're out of his mouth, but her temper -- banked at first -- starts spiking when he reminds her, like the little goth dude before him, that she got her ass beat. For a moment her eyes flicker and she sees him not as the good little kin he was imitating when he offered to drive her bleeding ass home, but as the fragile little meat-sack he is. She could have mocked Marrick for allowing Alex to beat her up, like people are mocking Marrick behind her back for it, like Dietrich yelled in her face for, but now she knows why.
She had a crush. She didn't snap to hispo and eviscerate him, as she could and did with Sinclair tonight. She let him beat her down, then came to Sinclair to try and get him for herself, and though she ended up bloodying and nearly killing the Glass Walker, she didn't walk away a victor otherwise.
Sinclair's thoughts are wandering. She thinks of Alex as a small animal that she would like to gnaw on. She thinks about Marrick screaming in Room Three where everybody could hear her, and Marrick looking embarrassed and miserable just minutes ago, and then she remembers that Alex is talking, and her eyes snap from his shoulder to his face as he's dusting himself off.
And despite everything he said, bristling with pique, all she gives back is this:
a sigh. And
"Dude. Chill," she says, somewhat wearily. "It was just a joke."
She steps past him, around him, and reaches for the driver's side door handle.
[Alexander] Alex thinks of the noise Wendy made when he dropped in beside her:
GAH.
and he's rather sorely tempted to make this noise himself. He doesn't. He snorts, instead, turning to watch her go, turning because for all the solid brass balls he's got that let him mouth off to garou over and over and over like that, having Sinclair -- beat up, bloodied, torn to bits or not -- at his back makes him feel like his spine might light on fire any second.
So he turns. He keeps her in sight. And he says, "Whatever," the way teenagers do, the way people do when they have no logical way of winning an argument, and so resort to older, dirtier tricks of simply being annoying and irritating and fucking snarky.
She gets in her car. He backs away from it. The engine starts with a roar. She needs a new muffler. He tells her so, shouting it, inaudible over the gunning engine, and as she's pulling away he's shouting that she should pay those goddamn parking tickets, too, as though this is some sort of adequate parting shot.
And then she's gone, and he's going over to his bloodred Buell, putting on his motorcycle jacket and his helmet and his gloves. He takes a different route, doesn't follow her, sure as hell doesn't make sure she gets back okay. What he does do -- perhaps unconsciously, perhaps without even realizing it -- is ride very, very fast, and do his damnedest to beat her back to the Brotherhood.
He's just like that.
[Syndel] ( posting cause like...I can?)
Syn woke up groggily...yellow eyes looking around sleepily before she simply reached over for her old beer, chugged down a disgusting swallow and rolled over, pulling her hat over her face to block out the sun. Snooooze.
[Syndel] ( Victory is mine!! I get the last post!! )
[Sinclair] If she were of a mind and in a mood to browbeat and berate someone else acting even younger than their age, Sinclair might have shot a few choice words back at Alex after his tirade. Maybe asked him why the fuck he did anything he did tonight, like offering to drive her back to the Brotherhood, like fetching talens for her from the glovebox, like sticking around while she used them. She's not in a mood. She's may not care. She's acting like she doesn't care.
She doesn't care.
Sinclair doesn't start up the El Camino immediately but digs around behind the passenger seat first, grabbing a yellow t-shirt emblazoned with a silhouette of Idaho and a pair of green boxers with a pattern of white shamrocks. She covers herself enough that she's not likely to get stopped on the way home if some driver sees her rolling around naked. He yells that she needs a new muffler, she flips him off through the window because her muffler
is brand fucking new.
Clearly he knows shit about cars.
He keeps shouting, and she finally gives him a look through the window, waggling her thumb and pinky beside one side of her head and mouthing Call me. She makes no kissy faces, and overall the mockery is bland. It's all she has energy for, and apparently he's not worth getting irritated with. Or maybe he just... doesn't... piss her off. If he thinks back there's never been a time when she's actually gotten angry enough to strike him, or angry enough to get in his face and try to make him back down. Mostly she shrugs him off.
Like she does, finally, when she pulls out of the lot and starts to drive back to the Brotherhood. He does indeed beat her there, because she's not racing, she's bleeding. She hauls herself upstairs, barefoot and filthy, and goes straight to the showers, washing herself clean while he plays Xbox. Or drums. Or sleeps. On her way to her own room she thinks about writing him a note, or leaving him a gift, or something, because... maybe she should say thank you.
Sinclair falls into bed, though, her hair wet and her skin airdrying, and is asleep before she decides if she actually will.
[Syndel] (...wants to post last demmit! )
Syndel roll over in her sleep, knocking over her can of beer and got soaked. Grumbling into wakefulness, the Fury groaned tiredly, feeling and smelling the beer soak her shirt. Plunking her hat on her head, she rolled over, pushed herself up to her feet and stumbled out of the clear, muttering and cursing. Back to her own campsite to sleep some more.
