[Keith] He’s out. He’s not only out, but he’s out and he’s, of course, in a savage mood. Or he feels as if he’s in a savage mood, anyway. Which makes it perplexing, why he’d just be lying in the snow, spread-eagled, like he was inviting the sky to fall on him. And yet, that is just what Keith Sommers is doing.
[Gina McClaren] *There had been a fight. She was coming home from work, having made a hasty escape from a rather lecherous client, and the cabbie she’d called to come get her come get her NOW was a small heavy set Indian man who was spoiling for a fist fight. One look at Gina and the plump businessman pursuing her with foul language and snarling visage had been all it had taken to spur one on. She’s speckled with blood and entirely energized, victorious little cabbie having chattered her ear off about running an underground boxing club in Delhi. He’d insisted on escorting her halfway through the park, and it was now she’d managed to shake him, laughing and bidding him goodbye. A glance over her shoulder as he hollers something in a language she doesn’t understand, and she turns, backing up into the snow and shaking her head, hollering in a voice cheery as christmas morning. (If christmas morning was spent tangled in the sheets with a smokey jazz singer.)*
AH told ye ah dinnae speak yer -OOF!
*She’s tripped backwards. Over a body. Dear god let it be a LIVE Body.*
[Keith] It’s a live body.
It’s a body that’s a little too alive, really, at present. Gina trips backwards over it, and it whipflash quick snaps closed. Gina makes Keith’s breath go, whoosh! And Gina makes Keith go rar, at the same time — very nearly literally. He (breathlessly) snarls, grabbing/grappling the bloody pikey in a way that (it’s the way his hands…) speak to tearing things into pieces, that speak to … to violence, to … to a certain care, a certain … let us say, elegance in terms of dissection … No, dissection is too clinical — a certain —
Well, whatever. It doesn’t matter. Gina trips over Keith, and he instinctually grabs her, breathlessly, and then …
Total slackening. No strength. Because maybe he recognized her. Maybe he doesn’t smell … like alcohol right now.
[Rory] Rory is a newly accepted child of Fox, and part of what they do is be sneaky. Since patrols are done, she’s decided to practice, here in the park. She’s well used to settling in shadows, often working very hard to not attract any attention, to slink around in the background so she doesn’t bother anyone.
But now she’s doing her best to sneak through the park undetected, unnoticed by anyone – even Gina and that boy… Keith. That was his name…
[Dex+stealth+fox= sneaky redhead?]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 6, 7, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Gina McClaren] *Its the rage that speaks to her instinct. The sudden, spiking, skin prickling heat of a furnace door being blown open. Every muscle of her body tenses, ratchets tight as she strangles a scream in its infancy. A gasp makes it past her lips as she’s let slump against him, and recognizes the face that had been snarling at her. Holy shit, she was literally tripping over Silverfangs in this town. Her voice is small when she finally finds it, a hard swallow before she lullabies quietly.*
Saerry. Sae Saerry. Didnae.. wasnae payin attention. M’ Saerry Darlin.. Ah didnae hurt ye?
*A silly question to ask a creature who shrugged off bullets and could cheat death simply by being too stubborn and furious to stay dead. Dark eyes are bright with fear, even as she pushes up slightly, sliding to the side of the body that had snapped her up like a carnivorous plant might a clumsy fly. Snow caught in her hair as she clears her throat and looks down at him.*
Ets.. Keith, aye? Yer aulrecht?
[Keith] ooc: (would roll percept/alertness, but combined percept/alertness isn’t even 4!)
[Rory] (ooc: aw, poor keith! :) )
[Gina McClaren] [here goes nothin]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Keith] He stares at her. It’s a — quiet stare. There is nothing overtly threatening about it. He’s just staring, is all, with his muddy (leader’s) gaze half-focused on her, half focused on anything else in the world. He truly doesn’t notice the city-fox stealthy Rory, all red of hair, quiet of step. “I’m fine,” he says, and his tone is a flat line. The kind that comes after the heartbeat stops, hush little child. He sounds ominous, really. He squints one eye, and then: “I remember you.”
[Rory] So far so good. She slinks along the path, dodging between lights, circling closer and closer to the couple in the snow. She’s a curious creature, all that breeding with no scent, all that rage with such innocence…
And now she’s sneaky too. Closer and closer, until she can listen in…
[Gina McClaren] Aye. Ets Gina.
*Keith’s gaze held only a moment, before Gina looks him over as a whole instead of locking her eyes with those of a predator. A nervous wetting of her lips, she tilts her head.*
Ah helped ye wi’ yer Christmas shoppin’.
*The curvy kin smells of road dust and spices, and the faint pungent underpinnings of Owl. Her hands find Keith’s chest tenatively as she pushes herself into a more seated position.*
Why ye lyin en the snow darlin?
[perception empathy – wuz wrong Fang?]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 7, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Keith] He isn’t flinching away from Gina, but he isn’t drawing closer, either. He’s just lying there, waiting for the sky to fall on him. It fell once, didn’t it just? Once, in the shape of Gina, which was a lovely shape, but not really the sort that he wanted.
“Yes. I do remember. Kate liked that thing you picked out for her.”
[Rory] She settles, now, behind a bench.
…nearby and listening
…nearby and hidden
…nearby and not moving.
Sneaky Redhead…
[Edwin Morr] Of a sudden, Rory would feel a growing sense of familiarity in her head, as the bubble called Edwin draws nigh. Then, rudely perhaps, or perhaps not… The attention of Fox to aid her children seems to shift… Away from Rory, and over to him instead.
((Blur of the Milky Eye
Manipulation + Subterfuge + Fox, diff = 8))
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 4, 5, 5, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Edwin Morr] ((Dex + Stealth + Fox, diff = 6, stealth specialized))
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Edwin Morr] ((That’ll be 4 successes at difficulty 8 to detect his approach, folks))
[Keith] ooc: (once again doesn’t bother rolling! LOL)
[Edwin Morr] Thick clouds hung low overhead, creating a thick blanket of black cotton, turning the night sky dark as it blocked the moon’s unblinking and austere gaze from the world below. A mere breath of wind, icy cold, freezer burned the landscape, causing no shortage of grumbling complaint and discomfort from the people housed within the Windy City’s confines.
Yet dark things still stirred… Predators were never truly kept at bay by the mere elements alone. They could be the gang bangers hovering near the outer confines of the Park, they could be the myriad muggers and crazies who infested the place after the garish light of day disappeared… Or they could be the ever grinning No Moon who just happened upon the gathering.
His approach was largely silent, as his hazy and indistinct form ghosted about the trees like some dark wraith on an errand of ill tiding.
[Gina McClaren] Ah’m glad.
*Snow is beginning to melt under the heat of her body, soaking through skirts on a quest to sap warmth from caramel skin. Gina draws her knees under her and offers keith a softly sympathetic smile. The Strider kin was no phenomenal beauty. Pretty, but not remarkable. She was no great athlete, though her belly dancing would snap a head or two around. She couldn’t sprint a mile or take a BSD out with a pistol, litigate a case out of court or fund a garou raid. No, Gina she was just soft and pleasant, and in possession of a formidable sort of charm. A natural intimacy that easily made strangers friends and friends lovers. Coupled with a generally sweet nature and a voice that was pure heaven, Gina naturally fell into the role of confidant and friend. Caretaker.*
Ye want tae talk aboot wha’ever’s botherin ye?
[Gina McClaren] [Do I see a Morr?]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 6, 7, 7 (Failure at target 8)
[Rory] She feels the swell, the tug, and her eyes close briefly as she enjoys the moment, the reminder that she’s not alone anymore. She doesn’t turn to look for him, knowing the moment that Fox shifts her boon from the fiery redhead to the Alpha of the bogeymen. She opens her eyes again and then grins, her voice – words as mixed up as always – carried to him silently as she basks in his approval.
They sidn’t dee me! – extremely pleased that she pulled it off.
[Keith] “Do you want to listen,” Keith says, oh softly. The snow isn’t that soft.
And it really isn’t, here. The snow is packed, is hard; is dense. It would take some scraping to make a decent snowball. It would take some scratch, scratch, scratching to make a decent snow fort. Might find ice, instead — ice as intensely blue as a rare moon.
The way he asks it, the way it isn’t quite a question, is off.
But he’s a Silver Fang. They’re supposed to be, right?
[Gabriella Bellamonte] She didn’t remember a whole lot about yesterday. She remembered stagnating in her bedroom for what felt like somewhere between an hour and a week before putting herself into motion without completely realizing what she was doing. She remembered leaving the Loft, trekking up the sidewalk and into the business district of Chicago where she could lose herself in a crowd. She remembered a cop and a monster, the most terrifying being she’d ever encountered in her life. Then she remembered coming to this morning in some modest, low-rate Hilton inn or another, unharmed and unaccompanied. So she’d gathered her things and moved on, just in case.
Somewhere from that vague fuzz of lost time, though, an idea from a piece of advice she couldn’t remember came to her. Clothes she had been wearing, high class and specifically tailored to her bodyshape, were tucked away and replaced with low-end things she’d purchased at Wal*Mart. This is what she wore now as she cut through the park with her dufflebag on her back, strap cutting across her chest. She was dressed in straight-legged jeans, simple black-and-red winter boots, a fitted pale blue sweater that was made from fabric that imitated cashmere but wasn’t quite the same, and had a gray-white-black beanie on her head with her hair pouring out from underneath it, a distinguishable mass of bronze-blonde kinks and waves that pushed down past her shoulder blades. The only thing that remained was that heavy black coat that cut to her hip in length.
She meandered, no direction in her step, no intent in her eyes.
Lost was a good word for what she appeared to be.
[Gina McClaren] *A nod, her hair falling over her shoulder and brushing the hard crystals of ice that were attempting to pass as snow. Her charms tinkle musically as she tucks herself a little deeper in her scarlet coat, blood spatter a brownish pattern on her breast. Dark eyes regarding the strange Fang with caution and concern in equal measure.*
Ah would darlin.
[Edwin Morr] Edwin grins lopsidedly in the darkness, still as a tombstone from his vantage point where he leans against the trunk of a tree… A solid oak, whose lee provided a pleasant shelter from the ravages of the wind, meager though they might be.
~Attagirl. Keep dis up’n yer shore ta give folks pause once we gits ta scarin’ up some fun wit’ th’Wyrm.~
Shaded eyes watched, his form unmoving and still save for the pupils of his eyes. And the periodic widening of that sly liar’s grin. The eyes turn for a moment to the path where a woman seems to walk with no apparent goal in mind…
[Keith] “Why?” Whatever Keith was feeling which had him out in the snow, sprawled, insensible to the stealthsome pack nearby, insensible to anything really, with how numb the ice is making his back, how red it’s making his neck, the point is — whatever Keith was feeling, he’s not feeling it any longer. Or at least, if he is, it’s suppressed, because far more important is the (paranoia, paranoia, everybody’s coming to get…) suspicion curling up his spine. He sits up, finally, and his hair is matted, wet. He shakes it, breathes out, blossom. Says: “What are you doing here? You’re bloody.” He may not be perceptive, but the telltale traces of Gina’s fight — he can read those well enough.
[Rory] She’s like a kid with a new toy as she draws absent designs on the snow at her feet. Too bad that it isn’t a good packing snow, or she might be tempted to toss some at the couple sitting in the snow.
Instead, she tells Edwin who they are. That’s Gina – the one with the wroken basher. And Keith. He’s nice, dut boesn’t understand when I talk. He’s not the same he was the other night. Mepressed, daybe. It’s said with a hint of ‘who knows, he’s a Fang’ layered underneath it.
[Gabriella Bellamonte] The Silver Fang Kinfok was new to keeping out of sight and mind, this much was true. Things conflicted in her mind, she couldn’t make up her mind which was more important. Maybe she should keep still and stop wandering around outdoors to prevent people from spotting her? But then if she stayed still she was easier to track, they could just walk right to her like she was waiting for them. Maybe she should get out of the city entirely? But here she had people she could call allies, at least, out there she had nothing.
What she did decide, however, was that when she decided to pause she would step off the path carved through the landscape to do so. Cheap winter boots crunched in the snow as she pressed into a thicket of evergreen trees, tucking herself back in the shelter of the thick clusters of dark green needles weighed down by snow. Here she stopped, let her dufflebag drop to the ground for a moment to let her back and shoulders rest, then pulled off her beanie and held it uncomfortably, delicately between her teeth.
Arms reached back behind her, gathered up her thick mane of hair, and dragged it over her shoulder to start a braid, something she could tuck under the collar of her coat to make herself less recognizable.
(Not that it’ll keep them from knowing what you are, idiot.)
[Gina McClaren] Because ye look like ye need somewan wha’ll listen an’ shut their face fer awhile.
*A grin, her breath steaming as she blows in her hands, rubbing them together for warmth. She’s oblivious to Rory and Edwin, as the pretty Indian woman watches Keith sit up at long last. Perhaps he’s feeling better? She looks down to the spatter of dark blood and rolls her shoulders in an impressive shrug as she lets him switch topics.*
Wee scuffle atween a helpful cabby an’ a customer wha thought tha since ah’ll scrub a floor on me han’s an’ knees, ah’m paid tae dae other thengs on me knees as well. Ets aul sorted. Nae harm, aye?
[Kate] [Dex + Stealth: Shadowing Gabriella]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6) [WP]
[Edwin Morr] Edwin’s grin widens in the dark… His eyes moving between the couple talking in the snow and the lost woman approaching.
~Seems ta me I’ve met Gina a’fore. Th’other fella’s uh new face ta me.
As is th’gal doin’ ‘er hair o’er yonder.~
[Gabriella Bellamonte] [Intelligence + Alertness: Detect Shadowing]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Keith] “Can’t you scrub on those shoes,” Keith says, looking truly baffled. “The ones with the brushes. It always seemed more efficient to me.” How he sounds aloof and lordly when he says that, one will never know. But he does, just barely.
[Keith] ooc: scrub IN those shoes
[Kate] She has not been following her for so very long, but her scent was known to her sister better perhaps, than any other. It was not simply her purity that led Truth’s Meridian to Grant Park, but a familiarity which none could best. She had known [of course she’d known] that her sister had left, had fled the Loft in some scheme of escape.
Yet she could not.
Lukas had seen to it.
Her elder sister, upon perhaps realizing she had been noticed, or no longer wishing to be masked by shadow, moves into her younger sibling’s line of vision, her coat black, her boots black and a white woolen cap tugged low over her ears against the cold. “How long do you plan to keep this up, ma petite soeur?” It was verging on the Philodox’s moon above, the air crackled with her anger, but it was as mild as it could be, given the circumstance. She did not appear in any sort of fury as she had another night.
Rather, her pale eyes seemed rather saddened.
[Rory] She tips her head so that she can look for the girl doing her hair, still hidden in the shadows behind the bench near Keith and Gina. She studies the girl for a long moment, and then lifts a skinny shoulder in a shrug.
Fang. Don’t how kner, I don’t think.
A pause and what Gina said filters through and her eyes widen. she neans clakid?! Rory has no qualms about her body, simply not thinking of it at all when she drops her towel, or changes, or showers. But cleaning in the buff seems… well.. that can’t be healthy hor fer! Chemicals and stuff…
[Rory] (My bad – meant to edit that out after I reread!)
[Rory] (DLP!)
[Rory] [ooc: never mind, Gina says it’s awesome and to keep it. And I am not reading quotes anymore wile posting. hahah!]
[Gina McClaren] Mmm. Mayhaps! There’s a thought. Nae certain et’d hold the same appeal en tha buff though. They sort o pay fer the view.
*She winks saucily and laughs. The cold has seeped through to chill her ass entirely, and she shivers, tossing her hands in the air with a cheery jingle of charms.*
Aulrecht Darlin, ye may nae be able tae catch yer death o cauld lyin aboot en the frozen blue yonders, but ah’m freezin aft me tuppenny bits….
*A swish of snow soaked skirts as she rises to her feet and offers a chilly caramel hand down to the mopey fang.*
[Gabriella Bellamonte] Gabbie stopped, frozen like a deer that had caught scent of the hunter upwind, that had heard a rustle in the brush and simply knew that the area teamed with wolves. Her fingers stilled in the practiced, automatic motions that twisted her thick thick hair into a braid, leaving it half-finished. Clear blue eyes, sharp and attentive, skimmed the trees and landed immediately upon a shape that was intimately familiar. Tasteful clothes, long legs, regal bearing, blonde hair.
The Kinfolk stiffened, absolutely still for a few seconds, staring at her sister until the Philodox stepped forward and opened her mouth. Then she moved swiftly, snapped a band from her wrist about her braid, not bothering to finish it or to tuck it into her coat. She stooped down to grab the strap of her dufflebag and without a word was off.
Not running, no, but walking briskly, as though perhaps Kate had been an apparition, as though she could be un-imagined just like that. Arms dragged the strap over her head and settled it across her chest, hands settled on it at shoulder and waist, and she trudged through trees to try and find the path again. This might be one of those instances where she’d be safer visible to the rest of the world.
[Edwin Morr] Edwin’s grin widens, a rakish cast to his gaze, as though his mind’s eye was seeing something other than the scene playing out before it.
~“Nah, not nekkid… Near ’nuff, but not quite nekkid. ‘er gittup’s mighty fetchin’, actually…
An’ I don’t know so much whether folks hires dat sorta cleanin’ lady fer th’cleanin’r th’show.”~
Then, the gaze turns to where Kate and Gabriella Bellamonte stand talking, his head tilting curiously before his gaze returns back to where Gina offers Keith a handshake.
[Rory] She tips her head and looks over toward where her Alpha is, where she’d felt him creeping up on them, and works through that idea in her head. she lifts a hand and rubs idly against her nose as she turns to look at Gina again.
Huh. Weird.
[Kate] If only it were that simple.
There’s a slight rustling, as if the trees were slightly disturbed by a sudden chill wind and a sudden spike in Rage coloring the air before the Philodox is once against standing before the Kinfolk, this time leaning her weight upon a large tree whose branches draped low toward the ground around it as if to caress its very roots with the edges of its leaves.
Katherine’s arms were over her slender chest, and she stared intently at her younger sibling.
“Where are you going to go, little sister?” She called after her as she marched by. “There is no circus to which you can run away to where you will not be found. If not by your tribe, then by those you truly do not wish to locate you.”
[Gabriella Bellamonte] Katherine was doing that creepy werewolf thing again, where she moved faster than she ought to, where suddenly she was in one spot when a second ago she was all the way over there, with nothing to show for her movement besides the fact that her coat still rustled and so did the pine needles around her. She always hated it when Kate and Ed did that, reminded her that she was the odd child out yet again by birthright this time instead of other things.
Gabbie’s eyes cut to her and she turned to walk away from her rather than directly past her, like she was afraid that the Garou would reach out and snag a hold of her, physically drag her away. Cheap rubber soles found the cobbled and icemelt-dusted path again, and she spoke quietly over her shoulder without looking back at Kate, as though she truly did believe she was speaking to herself, or a figment of her own imagination rather than someone who was physically there.
“It doesn’t matter where I go, so long as it’s away. Nothing but death, dust, and drowning back there.”
[Kate] Her elder sister pushed off from the tree trunk and cut a trail behind Gabriella; dogging her heels entirely too soon for comfort. “If you are so unhappy living with your sister and brother then why do you not simply return home to maman? You know she would welcome you with open arms. There is little still to fear from Uncle, I have him housed in my palm, and Edward will deal with him soon enough.”
Her irritation spiked suddenly, and she reached to nab the Kinfolk’s arm by the elbow, and twist her to face her accuser.
“For God’s sake, Gabbie! Speak to me! Do not skulk away into the shadows like a child. You always do–” She broke off, and drew a hand over her eyes, settling her temper. “If you are unhappy, then tell me how I can help.”
[Edwin Morr] Edwin just grins his lopsided grin, watching without moving. Trying to absorb as much of he could of the shouting of the Silver Fangs nearby while keeping an eye on Gina as well…
A feat not easily accomplished without moving anything save your eyes.
~Reckon it’ll make sense ta ya down th’road someday. If’n Blast were here, he’d tell y’all about it. More’n ya ever wanted ta know… An’ den some.~
Idle amusement entwines that statement like a serpent; such a
[Edwin Morr] ((Gah! Cut that post at the semi-colon please.))
[Gina McClaren] *If the abundantly curvy strider kin knew that Rory and Edwin were near, their cover would be entirely blown. Rory would be fussed over, peppered with questions as to whether she was eating well, sleeping somewhere warm, taking care of herself. Edwin would be touched, teased, enjoyed while he lasted, before the alpha of the Bogeymen had disappeared again. She’s straightening her jacket, attention on the Fang that refused to be mended, when shouting draws both her eye and her suspicion. Her arms cross beneath the swell of her chest, posture stiff as her, cold fingers brushing a cold reassurance inside her sleeve. Was that, Katherine Bellamonte? .. Oi. Her lips draw into a worried frown as she fights off a shiver.*
[damn you flaaaaw! are you… curious?]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 7)
[Gina McClaren] (- as her. *ahem*.)
[Keith Sommers] ooc: grr, ate my post, grrr grrr!
[Rory] She wrinkles her nose, and watches Gina, wonders about this Blast fellow, and then shrugs again, slightly.
Mickey asked me to hive gim a blowie. He laughed when i knidn’t dow what it was… there’s a pause, one where he has to know what’s coming next. …do you know what me heant?
Such innocence…
[Gabriella Bellamonte] Last night held quite the scare for Gabbie, and the worst part of it was all she could remember was some great beast, the most terrifying thing she’d ever experienced in her life, faceless and looming and so close and touching… …and she couldn’t even remember what happened. She was still tense, still edgy from such an experience.
So when Kate shadowed behind her, followed her up the path, Gabbie’s shoulders hunched up like they were trying to protect against a harsh wind. When she reached out to grab her, bit strong fingers into her elbow and turned her about by it, the Kinfolk responded with a sound that was startled and sharp, like the yelp of a dog that had been kicked in the belly. She swivelled about, yanked her arm away from Kate, and stared at her as though terrified and horribly offended both.
“I am not your fucking pet, Katherine! Nor am I your child to coddle at your knee whenever it pleases you most! Let me go!”
[Keith Sommers] “I should go,” he says. “I should go somewhere.” Abstracted. Amost distracted, Keith, although he accepts Gina’s hand up, could even use her help somewhat. After all, he’s been lying in the snow looking at the sky for a long time, blank as anything. Maybe he’s torn between the dark moon and the bright one, and this is bringing out his madness; that it’s not one or another, that it’s middling, balance that he doesn’t have. Maybe that’s what makes him act slightly more lunatic than usual (usually, he’s not …). Or maybe he’s not lunatic at all right now: just … Just.
He should be somewhere. He should do something. Arrogance, this: “And I don’t see why it should matter whether or not you’re appealing as you clean someone’s floor, as long as you’re quiet and efficient about it. I … should go. Thank you, Gina … I, I’ll see …”
Distracted, Keith eyeballs the snow. Or maybe he’s faking the distraction! In fact, he totally is. It’s automatic. “I’ll see you.” There, that was flat, that was Keith just being moody, not Keith deciding to act a little loopy just because he could get away with it.
And with that! He wanders off, and his awesome perception skills are in high gear, since he doesn’t even notice his kin.
ooc: sorry guys! MUST GO!
[Kate] [Empathy + Perception: bb what’s wrong?]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 10, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Edwin Morr] ~If’n yer fixin’ Gina’s washer, seems ta me dat’s th’time ta ask. She might could e’splain’t better’n I…
Speakin’ uh which… I’m uh say hello ta th’gal. Might be wise ta keep hid’n listen ta whut th’Fangs’s talkin’ ’bout. Good fer trainin’…
‘Course… Loud’s they’re yellin’, I reckon half uh Grant knows whut dey’s talkin’ ’bout.
Stay hid’r not, up ta you.~
And with that, Edwin meanders away, further down the path from where Kate and Gabriella stood talking, on the far side with respect to Gina, such that if noticed, he’d be seen coming toward Gina on the far side of the Fang chat. Then, he approaches Gina again, only dropping his gift after he’s right behind where she stands staring at Kate and Gabriella.
“Y’know… Seems ta me we’d be uh might smart ta act like we’s jabb’rin’ ‘way merrily while dey gits all in uh huff like dat. Keep ’em from gittin’ mad fer havin’n audience…”
[Kate] Her elder sister physically recoils at that; flinching as if she’d just been struck a blow across the face. To any curious by-standers watching this interplay seemed as much sisterly as it did Garou and Kinswoman. The lines between the two were so greatly blurred for the Bellamonte children that they barely knew half the time where those boundaries had once lain.
Katherine’s lips are white, her skin as pale as the snow.
“You think this is how I view you, Gabriella?”
She relinquished her hold on her arm, her fingers dropping to her sides, fair head shaking lightly, side to side. She stared at her younger sister’s expression for a beat, before her expression deepened to one of frowning concern. She made some motion to touch her sister’s cheek, but checked it before the motion was even half begun.
“What is the matter, Gabbie. Truly? What has happened? There was a time when you would confide things in me. I know that much is different, now, petit, but I am still your sister. Your troubles are still my troubles.”
She almost sounded pleading, her blue eyes very intense in the moonlight.
“Will you not speak with me as you once did, Gabriella? I get so very…” She broke off, sucking breath back into her lungs as she noticed the others staring; watching. Her expression flickered toward anger; toward humiliation at being witnessed.
[Rory] He passes the buck, and her brow furrows slightly as she thinks about it, in comparison to what Mickey had said then, and after, and…
Huh. Weird.
She’s still confused, and Edwin can feel it, though she glances toward Gina, and the Fangs, and then stays hidden so she can listen – though she splits her attention between Edwin and Gina, and the Fighting Fangs.
[i]Tell Gina I hay si.[i]
[Gabriella Bellamonte] [WP: Playing derangments by the book]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 4, 5, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Gina McClaren] *The pikey shifts from foot to foot, an absent goodbye to the strange Fang who seemed so intent on sharing nothing of himself but his bland condescension. She frowns at his back a moment, skirt wet from dirty city snow, coat drawn a little closer around her. Gabbie Yelps and the strider kin gives the most infinitesimal of flinches. She couldn’t take that noise. It was familiar. It shouldn’t be. An encounter with another volatile female Silverfang washes over her memory, spurs her into action. She shouldn’t get involved. She shouldn’t get between a Garou and her sister. But Gabbie had been beat near to death by a psychotic Fang that Gina had pissed off, and it seemed only right that – *
Holy Shite Edwin, Fook!!
*A sincerely terrified yelp precedes her outburst, as she jerks and smacks a fist hard against the Bogeyman’s shoulder. Scowling and taking a deep breath, dark brown eyes casting towards Gabbie and Her sister once more before tearing away.*
jaysus. .. Ah owe Gabbie wan darlin.. Tha o’er there gi’s tae heated…. Ah need tae gawn pull her oot.
*Gina sounds like a commando getting ready to go behind enemy lines. A glimpse into the life of the kinfolk that had to deal with the moon-loony monsters Gaia was so fond of. Her hand slips to seek Edwin’s sleeve with less violence. A gentle friendly tug.*
[Edwin Morr] Edwin chuckles with dark amusement even as Gina slaps his shoulder, as any ornery glutton might at having such success. Some jokes truly never grew old, in his opinion. Then, as Gina tugs on his sleeve, shadowed eyes turn to where the sisters stand yelling.
“Don’t seem wise… Gonna force me inta fightin’ wit’er sister, if’n ya do. We c’n stan’ here an’ talk uh spell, won’t hurt nuthin’ ta do dat.
But until ya see’s it git heated fer real… Ya cain’t really be shore e’sactly whut’ll happen next. Dat said… If’n you’n me go gittin’ involved, we might jes’ spur on th’heat. I’s seen’t happen a’fore.”
He grins, and nods to a nearby park bench.
“Oh, an’ Rory says hi…”
[Gabriella Bellamonte] Katherine looked as though she had reached out and physically struck her, pulled back a little, icy eyes wide and hurt. Yet, despite the stricken expression, that Rage underneath was undeniable. It teased at the air, sizzled the cold around the Philodox with strength far beyond what was intended for her, and Gabriella’s nostrils flared a little, sucked in the bitter winter air, and jutted her chin out just a bit.
What’s the matter? Tell me, you can always tell me. What happened? What’s so wrong?
“If–…”
She cut off, dropped her eyes, and adjusted her bag strap. Her tongue peeked out to sweep over dry lips, and she took a step back before shaking her head. “If I thought you would hear anything I said, I would have spoken and not acted. Leave me be.” She started walking again, this time backward on stiff knees in uncomfortable and cheaply made jeans, unwilling to give the spurned Garou her back, and unwilling to meet her gaze eye-to-eye.
[Kate] [WP: Let her go, Kate.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Rory] She has to cover her mouth with her hand to bite back the giggle as Edwin scares Gina, and she jumps and smacks him. He can feel her amusement through their Totem bond, even as she turns to watch the Fangs again.
It’s heated, and it’s familial, and it’s familiar in a way. Gabriella walks away again, unwilling to show her sister her back, and Rory simply watches to see what will happen next.
[Gina McClaren] *The pikey is doing a fine job of looking to Edwin’s boots rather than at the Fang spectacle unfolding beside her. She had Gabbie’s number. She’d put things to right. But she hardly wanted Edwin leaping in and getting hurt for her, on account of Gina’s own need to leap in and help Gabbie. Her lips press into a thin line and she nods, staying put beside the Bogeyman, looking somewhat forlorn, and entirely on edge. A confused sort of smile as he mentions Rory. The pikey singsongs quietly.*
Och.. Ye kain Rory? Nice lass. Sad these days, but reckon she’s a toucgher cookie than she thenks. She’s tae come round an’ fix me washer machine. Aye?
[Kate] If I thought you would hear anything I said, I would have spoken and not acted.
“Gab–” Katherine’s voice choked off on her sister’s name, as she began to move away from her, keeping her eyes focused on the Half Moon as if to give her the view of her spine would be to risk it being torn from her body. There was a great shudder from the Silver Fang; her breath hissed out before her and she did indeed turn her eyes upward at the moon; cloud passing across it as if to hide it from her vision.
The orb reflected in the widening pupil of the Garou’s eye a moment and she seemed indecisive about her course of action; her boots scratched against the icy grass and dirt as more distance grew between the pair before eventually, finally, she turned her back on Gabriella and began to move off.
A palm was raised toward one cheek as if to wipe away something.
Certainly, it was snow.
Katherine Bellamonte was not capable of shedding tears, now was she?
The shadows soon swallowed her up.
[Gabriella Bellamonte] There was a terse moment in which Katherine rolled her head back, bared her face to the moon ahead, and Gabbie’s eyes flicked up. Was that half or gibbous still? She was unable to determine, and for a moment her heart nudged up toward her throat. This could be dangerous, very very bad. But instead of sprouting snowy white fur and tearing trees and benches and Kinfolk apart, Katherine turned and walked away, scrubbing a hand over her cheek as she let her black clothes help her blend into the shadows that she seemed to disappear into.
Gabbie stood still for a few seconds, half-stumbled a few more steps back on stiff legs, then swiveled about and all but charged away from the spot, from the park. Wild and directionless except for away.
[Edwin Morr] “So’s I hear… An’ thangs’s lookin’ up, so far’s I c’n tell. Heard tell she’s in uh new pack… Uh good thang too; she’s all tore up after th’other’ne fell ‘part.”
Edwin shrugs, his shaded gaze following Gabriella and Kate briefly as they leave the park in such haste.
“See… All’s well whut ends well. No harm done.”
[Rory] She furrows her brow, but she doesn’t move until Gabriella and Kate go their separate ways. Which means she has two choices, spy on Edwin and Gina, or let Gina know she’s there – since Edwin already knows.
It doesn’t take long to make the decision, as she stands up from behind the bench where she’s been crouched for so long and heads over to join Edwin and Gina.
[Edwin Morr] ((Gotta go on the half hour. 15 minutes))
to Gina McClaren, Rory
[Gina McClaren] *Gina watches the explosion to be, cease to be. A deep sigh of relief as the two Fangs part, headed in different directions. It was a sad predicament she’s observed, one that left her feeling torn up and uncertain as to whether she could help, or would just hinder. A look of confusion chased away as Edwin speaks of Rory and the devil appears, striding towards them in all her redheaded glory. Edwin’s bumped with a hip, familiar and pleasant.*
Well, an speak o the lass herself..
[Edwin Morr] “Yeah… Funny how folk jes’ appear outta thin air once dey’s mentioned… Almos’ mag’cal.”
He grins, taking a seat on the bench and withdrawing his whiskey flask from a pocket of his coat.
“Don’ mind me… Oh, an’ Gina… Rory was wantin’ ta gitcha ta e’splain sum’in’ to ‘er, mebbe while she’s workin’ on yer washer.”
And with that, the Bogeyman goes silent, drinking quietly, watching… The dark, the park… the things that might decide to accost the kin and Rory here in the night. Just in case…
((Fade Edwin here; he’ll just be drinking on the bench and then likely see Gina home safe. Then, back to the packhouse with him.
Thanks for the rp folks; I had fun.))
[Rory] She flushes bright as Edwin mentions the question, and she lifts a hand to rub at the side of her nose before smiling shyly at Gina. “Hi.” She tugs her hat down over her hair a little farther, though nothing manages to corral those fiery curls, no matter what she tries. Then she tucks her hands, pale and slender and fragile looking, back into the pockets of her too-thin jacket.
Like as not, she’s wearing almost everything she owns under there, and what isn’t there is in her pack on her back. She still isn’t quite ready to leave all her things at the packhouse. Not yet.
She looks at Edwin, then to Gina, and then at her feet as she scuffs her toe in the packed dirt, and then quickly… and all mangled up… “Sickey maid something… I think it hight mave something to do sith wex.” A quick nod – and boy, can Rory blush bright…
[Gina McClaren] *A last glance in the direction Gabbie made off in, before the caramel kin concentrates entirely on the garou in front of her. Rage, a good deal of it. Edwin not your typical Ragabash, Rory a typical full moon. It has Gina moving to the bench to sit beside Edwin, making room for Rory beside her with a smile. A garbled string of words takes some figuring, but then the pikey supposes this is what her accent is like to Americans.*
Wha was et thes folk said Rory loves?
[Rory] She hesitates a minute, maybe two, before she settles to the bench next to Gina. Gina’s always been nice to her, and Edwin didn’t make fun of her when she asked him, just said Gina’d be better to explain it. So, after a moment, she nods – and very soft and quickly dives right in.
“Mickey asked me to hive gim a ‘blowie’. He whaughed len I didn’t know what it meant…” a beat. “Do you know what me heant?”
[Gina McClaren] Och Jasyus Mickey. *Gina curses the gnawer’s name and laughs, leaning casually against a Bogeyman who’s no doubt stealthily groping his fingers through her satchel, pockets, and across various other things he likely should leave alone. *
Reckon ets jes as well ye didnae kain wha ee’ wanned loves, yer mouth would rot aft, Ah’m certain.
*A grin as she goes on to explain the general details of a blowjob, gesturing to Edwin’s junk for reference.*
Blow’s when ye wrap yer lips round a felly’s nethers an’ make like ets a lollipop, aye? Oral sex darlin. Mickey was bein a prat. Next time ee’ asks jes say yer oop fer et, but yer moore comfortable en yer furry form. Tha’ll shut the fooker oop.
Ye eaten? Ah’m fookin cauld.. ye tae chancers wan tae coome o’er an have a bite?
*And after idle discussion, the garou and kin would wander out of the park, and towards a cab, towards food and whiskey. *
[Rory] And Rory follows along – a little wide-eyed and shocked.
There will be more questions later, like as not, while she fixes that washer.