[Annie Taylor] (Not it!)
[Edwin Morr] ((Rory starts. :) ))
[Rory] (not it!)
[Rory] (DAMMIT!)
[Rory] Chinatown is a conglomeration of sights and sounds and scents and people. It’s overwhelming on a good day, impossible to deal with on a bad. It’s somewhere in between for Rory today. The scent of blood hangs thick and cloying around her – her own blood, seeping through bandages across her shoulder, her side. With the benefit of her birth, she heals no matter where she is, what form she currently is in. It makes wandering easier for sure – especially when one has a hankering for a noodlebowl from Nicks Noodle Shack. It’s not expensive, especially for her. She’s fixed their ice machine, their soda machine, and even rewired their washing machine so that it continues to work despite being 20 years old.
As such she’s a bag of food at her hip, sitting next to her on the bench where she currently sits carefully – a noodlebowl in her balanced between her thighs. She’s people watching as she enjoys her treat – even if her movements are a little slow, and her left arm is practically useless for a few days longer.
[Edwin Morr] ((Blur))
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 6, 6, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 1 at target 8)
[Edwin Morr] ((Being infamous))
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 3, 4, 6, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 8 at target 6) Re-rolls: 2
[Edwin Morr] People watching is a neat aside… But sometimes, other people watch the people watchers. A figment breezes through the Chinatown streets, blurry and indistinct, its every motion hard to follow. The shadows seemed to cling to it, grabby with hungry fingers, like a jealous lover clinging to an unfaithful partner…
Its face was a sharp but commonly featured facade, veiled by the shade cast from a baseball cap pulled low upon his brow… Eyes that were perhaps blue, maybe gray, watched and considered the walking ebb and flow of humanity…
Until the simple gaze settles upon a red haired metis eating noodles by herself on a bench. The sly liar’s grin widens upon his lips, as the foul creature of darkness approaches… His head almost upon her shoulder as he peers down into the bowl.
His low drawl heard so close she could almost feel the heat of his breath as he speaks.
“Whut’s fer dinner, doll?”
[Annie Taylor] There’s a girl. And with her, there’s a bundle of Rage, of (in)human nature. It’s more muted than usual with the moon so far away from her own, but that’s not saying much, all told.
She’s a normal Ahroun.
A normal Gnawer.
A normal Cliath.
But that doesn’t make it any easier for the humans who give her such wide berth to deal with her – they skirt, make room for the predator in their midst, and keep their eyes carefully off of the hideous [chemical] burn scar that mars most of the left side of her face, along with roughly half of her neck and a considerable portion of her left shoulder and chest. There’s a story to that scar, a Glory, but they don’t see that; they see what was surely once a pretty girl, One of Them, disfigured to a point where they’d simply rather not acknowledge her than have to comment, or . . . not.
No one likes an elephant in the room.
In any case, the young (because she is, by any normal standards, though by Ahroun standards she’s nearly ancient) Gnawer follows her nose – she’s sold a piece, a small one, and so she has enough for something to eat. The fuck if she knows what she wants, though. And look! There’s Rory (and like knows like), and a grin (Annie sings of play yards and sports) breaks out across her face as she approaches.
“Hey, I’m Annie.” Better to introduce herself off the bat, to show she means no offense if she’s stepped into the wrong place – she hadn’t. Chinatown is just anonymous enough, like any other city’s version thereof enough, that it staves off what little bit of homesickness she might feel. And this, of course, is just as Edwin appears and speaks, and her grin only grows wider. “Heya.”
[Rory] Edwin appears, and speaks, and her only warning is the tug of pack that lets her know someone is knew, someone is close, someone is…
…and she JUMPS – and her face twists in pain as she sets her jaw against the flare of agony that rips along her left shoulder, her side, blood seeping once again into the bandages, flowing from newly opened wounds. The scent clings to her, her rage spikes, then calms as she realizes who it is. The pain though, the pain thrums and screams and twists… but she simply sets her jaw, and ignores it the best she can, carefully refraining from moving her left side.
Most full moon’s would yell. Most would strike. Rory? ducks her head until she can breathe again, and then reaches with the arm that still works to open the bag and offer her Alpha a noodle bowl. “Mow Chein..” As always – she doesn’t hear the mix-up. She hears only what she intended to say.
And then there’s Annie, and she’s saying hello to the full moon with so much wasted breeding, and she smiles at Edwin. Rory ducks her head, shy, and peeks up at Annie. “Rory.”
[ooc: I have to pick up my SO around the corner! Be back in a flash!]
[Edwin Morr] Edwin chuckles, a dark and terrible sound… Made somehow worse as the light of moon wanes by the evening, calling a truer night into being. It was this way each cycle of the moon; as the light faded, Edwin’s truer nature came forth. Less dissembling, more dangerous…
Then, the shaded gaze turns to Annie, and with that sly grin widening upon his lips, Edwin answers with a wink and a nod.
“Wh’hullo dere. How’s doin’?”
His hand eaches for the chow mein, taking but a small bite of noodles before handing it back.
[Rory] (ooc; back)
[Annie Taylor] “Nice ta meetcha, Rory,” Annie says, working gum – there’s a difference (not quite an accent, but close) to the way she speaks that indicates the Valley. It’s almost stereotypical, really, that soCal way of talking. And her tummy rumbles at the smell of Rory’s noodles; she eyes them for a moment before answering Edwin.
“Doin’ hungry, just now. About to grab some food. Nate mentioned a place, but I don’t wanna call in favors unless I have to, ya know? So, got any suggestions?”
[Rory] Edwin forgoes the unopened container to steal a bite of her own instead, and she resettles the container between her thighs as she looks up at Annie, then between her and Edwin. There’s a question writ across her face, but she doesn’t ask it – instead, she grabs one of the containers in the bag by her hip and offers it to Annie.
No one does hungry when Rory has means. Chloe taught her that the city will provide – this time, it provides via Rory’s talented tinkering.
[Edwin Morr] Edwin grins and shrugs.
“Seems Rory’s gotcha covered… If’n you’ll break bread wit’ Bogeymen.”
And at this, Edwin takes a seat beside Rory, slouching as was ever his wont, in that boneless slump so characteristic of his nature. It made guessing his height almost impossible, made him seem utterly unaware and unprepared should something unexpected occur.
Still, that was the point.
Idly, Edwin waits to see how the word Bogeyman hits Annie, grinning all the while.
[Annie Taylor] “I ain’t afraid of other things that go bump in the night,” she says with slight emphasis on ‘other’ and a waggle of brows over expressive eyes; she’s open, easily read (for the moment, anyway) and she’s pleased for the company and the free food. “And if I were dumb enough to turn down free food, I don’t think I’d have lasted this long. Thanks, Rory.”
She accepts the offered container, opens it, and sniffs the escaping steam as if this sort of smell is all the drug anyone could possibly need. It’s hot, fresh food – for her, maybe it is.
[Rory] She smiles, shyly, ducking her head – which is good as Edwin thumps down on the bench beside her, jostling the stubborn Fianna who’s sitting in public injured when most who had taken that amount of damage would stay home. She’s stubborn, and had promised Nick that she’d help – so help she did, even with one hand. Got her meals for the week, which is certainly not a bad thing at all, when they don’t have an income, and a rage too high to get a job.
Doesn’t help that she can’t talk worth shit.
This is clear enough though. “Welcome.” Single words are easier.
[Edwin Morr] “Well den… Enjoy.”
Edwin watches the people pass, the ebb and flow of humanity a source of endless intrigue for this child of Fox. His shaded gaze considers the myriad sights and sounds for a time in silence, before his head turns to Annie again. When he speaks, he takes care to make certain she’s just put a bite of food in her mouth, so as to catch her unprepared.
“So… Ya packed’n’ shacked wit’ anybody jes’ yet Annie? Cain’t say’s I’s heard ta date, e’sactly…”
[Annie Taylor] He does his job well – catches her unprepared, and without thought Annie speaks, full mouth and all.
“Ain’t been here that long,” she manages, relatively clear, then chews hurriedly and swallows half the mouth full of noodles whole. “Only really know Nate, and that’s ’cause he shares his room with me when Bobbie-Jo and I need a break. Bobbi-Jo’s my van,” she says with a hint of pride. There’ve been times when that van and the clothes on her back were about all the feisty little Gnawer owned.
“Anyway, the short answer is no. I ain’t against it, but it don’t seem like a thing that should be hurried, ya know? Gotta make sure the fit’s right, unless it’s a thing that needs doing right now and there are benefits to be had from a temporary binding.”
[Rory] She looks between them, though the one shared with her Alpha is questioning – not that she questions Annie, per se, but simple questioning. That shy little grin reappears, as she looks at Annie in a new light, a perspective light.
“Sometimes hurry makes pood gack. When I lost Forgotten, Edwin mook te in. Hever Nappier.”
She expertly lifts a bunch of noodles to her lips, taking a bite, and occupies herself catching the sauce that dribbles down her chin as she chews.
[Edwin Morr] ~Delmar’n me ain’ th’most social. An’ dependin’ who we gits next, may need some folk ta be th’kinder, gentler face uh Bogeymen…
So’s dem whut’s like me c’n focus on scarin’ folk right proper.~
There’s a hint of humor at that, dark humor buried deep, the sort of humor that one who laughs at funerals would get. Rory would also feel a sense of conniving, of Edwin working about some plan through the totem bond…
As though he had in mind a specific goal with such a statement.
to Rory
[Rory] A humor, a deep humor, and a plan. And softly, questioned… An’ what’s py mart? Not that she questions that she is a part, just wondering where he sees her -which comes through with the sense of her little grin. Muscle?
to Edwin Morr
[Edwin Morr] ~Among other thangs… Yer role’s more’n whutcha kill. Even if’n I don’t tell ya whut dat is, e’sactly.~
Edwin’s cunning seems to show through the bond now, a sense of dissembling… of something hidden…
to Rory
[Edwin Morr] Edwin grins wider, that lopsided liar’s grin resting ever more easily upon his lips the longer he spends bonded to Fox. After a few moments, he speaks again.
“Fox is much’s anythin’ uh teacher. An’ one uh her best lessons is ta not look uh gift horse in th’mouth. Opp’rtun’ties’s rare thangs. Some, once dey’s passed on, don’t show up ‘gain.
Uh wise feller takes whut ‘e can when ‘e can, a’fore th’prey runs off. Wise gals do too.”
A moment passes, before Edwin shrugs.
“Well, dat said, I cain’t int’rduce ya ta all dem whut’s in th’pack; uh couple’s gone harin’ off after prey uh deir own choosin’. But me’n Rory here… We’re two thirds uh whut’s left.”
[Rory] She looks at him again, and tips her head slightly, curls tumbling over her cheeks as she does so. Then she nods – and questions no farther. She learned long ago questioning is not her place. But more than that – she trusts him. ok. Completely.
to Edwin Morr
[Annie Taylor] “Oh.” This takes more thought; Annie isn’t exactly dumb, but she’s certainly not the sharpest crayon in the box, either. “So . . . you’re offerin’? Without knowin’ what I got ta offer?”
This is strange even to her, the laid back California girl who reminds of nothing as much as soccer games (or wrestling matches) and sun and surf. There’s not much she’s cautious about, really, but this would be one of those things. Or has been. And then, chasing away the surprise, a grin splits her face.
“Thanks! I’m flattered. I think . . .” There’s a pause, another bite of noodles slurped up and quite possibly swallowed without chewing. “I think it’s the only offer I got. But I ain’t pledged ta Maelstrom yet.”
[Rory] She grins a little at Annie. “Fox sometimes tells Edwin who lo took for. That’s how he mound fe.” as usual, she doesn’t notice any mixup.
She starts to shrug, but the snag of agony it shoots through her side and shoulder stops her. Instead, she grabs another bite and chews it contemplatively.
[Edwin Morr] ((Persuasion
Charisma + Subterfuge + Fox, diff = 6))
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6) [WP]
[Edwin Morr] Edwin grins wider, and winks knowingly at Annie… His hair suddenly seeming nothing if not coppery red in the wan light.
“Mebbe I know, mebbe I don’. Mebbe I’m uh fool playin’t sum’in’ greater’n m’lot in life.
Hard ta say sometimes…
Whut I know ain’t ‘t issue. Whut we’re off’rin’s mighty simple. Uh pack, uh place ta stay when Bobbi Jo’s notcher first choice. Uh pack wit’ uh right narrow goal an’ th’sense not ta stick its neck out uh whit more’n whut’s necess’ry.
Fox.”
And as he speaks, Edwin’s grin and dissembling nature can’t hide the import he places on the last of these offers. The reverence he uses when referring to Fox, when he so irreverently deals with all the rest of the world.
“Th’Bogeymen’s goal is right simple. We’re gonna sneak where th’Wyrm fig’res ‘isself safe an’ crap in its cheer’yos. We’re gonna git behin’ th’battle line, kill uh bunch uh critters, hit deir bases uh op’rations… An’ laugh th’whole while doin’t.
We’re gonna party like dere ain’t no t’morrah, an’ make shore we’ve smell’t our share uh roses ‘fore th’time ta mosey ontah th’next world comes ‘long.”
And here, Edwin considers…
“Mebbe dat’s worth jumpin’ at fer some…”
[Annie Taylor] (Sorry I’ve been so slow! Hubby was demanding help putting together shelves, but that’s done now.)
[Edwin Morr] ((np))
[Annie Taylor] “And I tend to agree. Sounds about like what I do anyway – well, ‘cept for the not stickin’ my neck out part. I do that plenty, if it needs to be done.”
Edwin is charismatic and convincing (and Persuasive), and by the end of it, Annie has stars in her eyes – she’s pragmatic, lives by the law of common sense, and can’t come up with a reason to say no, where she can come up with plenty of reason to say yes. It’ll feel good to have a home, to have a real pack, a family; she hasn’t had that since she left Burbank.
“I’d like ta meet Fox, if ya think he’d like ta meet me.”
[Rory] “She.” she corrects automatically, and her voice is soft and filled with the wonder of her meeting with Fox. A mother figure, a protector, a Totem that balances out the weaknesses of the metis, and makes her stronger still.
Then softly she offers. “Annie can share ry moom… if she fikes Lox, that is.”
A home, a pack, a family. For Rory? Maybe a Friend.
[Edwin Morr] “Oh, I reckon uh meetin’ c’n be arranged. I’ll give ‘er uh holler, see whut she says.”
Edwin grins at Rory… And then at Annie.
“Whut Rory means ta say’s dat Fox struck her’n I as uh she… Dat ain’t ta say dat’s how ’tis, dat’s jes’ how she look’t ta us. Mebbe Fox tries on bein’ uh he fer you… Mebbe not…
Hard tellin’ wit’ Totems… Dey plays by their own rules.”
Then, Edwin shrugs…
“Well, I got me some work ta git done a’fore I calls’t uh night. People ta check on, folk ta scare… thangs like dat. You gals play nice wit’ each other, y’hear?”
His shaded gaze turns to Annie for a moment.
“I’ll letcha know when’s time ta see Fox. It’ll come sudden-like… So be on yer toes.”
Then, to Rory.
“Seeya at th’packhouse, doll. Enjoy th’chow mein.”
And with that, true to his namesake, Edwin disappears utterly… Lost to the shadows he holds such kinship with.
((Dex + Stealth + Fox, diff = 6, stealth specialized))
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6) Re-rolls: 2
[Annie Taylor] “Alright. Thanks!” She’s cheerful and sunny, for all that Rage, and then there’s Edwin melding back into the shadows he came from, leaving Annie to grin down at Rory – which will not happen often, one imagines, as Annie is all of five foot even. The Gnawer takes up a lean on a handy wall, close, and eats some more noodles before saying, “I have a half-brother, he stutters. Kids make fun of him all the time, like kids do.” Another bite, chewed and swallowed quickly, and then, “I hope it ain’t rude, but is the switchin’ first sounds kinda like that? I just like knowin’ things is all.”
That grin, friendly and open, can save Annie from a lot of things. “‘specially if there’s gonna be people makin’ fun of my sister.” Rory’s Ahroun, can look after herself. But it’s easy to see Annie jumping into it out of sheer loyalty.
[Rory] Se blushes, brightly, the color splashing over her cheeks as she ducks her head and hides behind the fall of her curls. She’s carefully keeping her left side as still as possible, it’s clear she’s recently injured – she was not healed as the others were, and she’s too stubborn to seek out a healer not of Fox.
She takes another bite, swallows, and then nods slightly. “Spoonerism.” She gives it a name, as if it gives her control over it. It doesn’t. “Dr Slaughter said that’s what it’s called. I hon’t dear the switches, so fan’t cix them. I never know when I mess it up – until lomebody saughs.”
Sister, she says, and Rory flushes again. She misses Chloe every single day – Elliot was pack, was alpha, but wasn’t sister like Chloe was. It’d be nice to have something like that again.
[Annie Taylor] “Laughin’ ain’t nice. And we ain’t all nice – hell, I ain’t nice all the time – but ain’t no cause to make fun of something that can’t be helped. ‘s horseshit. And too easy. Might as well put a little effort into the makin’ fun, ya know?”
The last of her noodles, which have been disappearing at a rate that only an active teenage Gnawer can manage, are slurped up. It’s the shoulder that gets Annie’s attention now, and she frowns.
“Ain’t a healer,” she says, “but I can clean that up and bandage it for you right. Maybe get it in a splint or something so it doesn’t crack open and bleed again every time you move.”
[Annie Taylor] (This is me edging toward close – I’m losing the Annie vibe for tonight. Too much energy!)
to Rory
[Rory] She smiles a little, and shrugs. People always make fun of her, and she is never privy to the joke. Some things you just get used too. Other’s you learn to ignore. And as someone who’s always been the Omega, who always will be, it is just the way it is.
Then she offers to help rebandage and fix her up, and Rory shakes her head slightly, starts to tell her it’s not necessary… but then, with a nod. “OK. Yank thou.”
(OOC: no worries!)
[Annie Taylor] “No problem. ‘s stupid to let people hurt more’n they have to. Wanna come see Bobbi-Jo?”
There’s pride there, in the way she speaks her van’s name. Clearly, the two have been through a lot together. And, with her container neatly re-lidded and held on to (one never knows when such things will come in handy), she offers Rory a hand up. And, at the van, Rory’ll get patched up as well as Annie can manage, which is generally reasonably well.
(Int+Medicine, for kicks!)
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6) [WP]
[Rory] [ooc: whoo! Shall we call it there, than? :)]
to Annie Taylor
[Annie Taylor] (Sounds good to me! And we shall play again soon, and now have two character combos to consider. =D )
to Rory
[Rory] [Yay! :)]
to Annie Taylor