He wrapped his arm around her waist and just nodded at the suggestion of food. He didn’t care what it was as long as it was with her.
“Oh this was nothing important really, we headed up to the Moirne Hills, we had to look for something that the spirit in the bog would recognize and would tell the tale about what has happened their of late.”
He didn’t exatcly mention the Hive, he didn’t want her to worry a great deal about it. When the time came he would talk about it, but no need to worry her needlessly.
[Randi Bartlett] *she hugged him tight and listened.* Well, it’s good it was something easy then. You know I will worry every time you go out. It’s what a wife is suppose to do, right? *she smiled brightly up at him. She let him go and took his hand, pulling him to the kitchen* So what’s this tale then?
[Evan McCollach] “I just don’t want you to worry yourself sick.”
He smiled again when she took his hand. He knew he wasn’t much of a story teller, a meditator or diplomat, yes. But definately not a story teller.
“Well.. we all went up to the church up the the Hills area. Imogen, which is Decker’s mate, she was there to. She had been diggin up info for us and came across a tale about a priest who visited the spirit, when she was a woman and there was something about a tree split by lighting. So that was what we had to find. And when he started to look through the woods, Imogen and Jacob, he’s not bound to Eagle yet, found the split tree with a well by it. I stumbled across what I guess was once a wall of the old church. And we had to take something of it to prove to the the Moon-Water-Woman, that teh Hills are tainted.”
Yeah he was definately a regular Shakespeare.
[Decker Rohl] Decker doesn’t come to the kinhouse often, but the kinhouse was where there was more likely to be homecooked food. Or that was the case, anyway, until Ling left. These days, the stove’s cold more often than not. Still, old habits die hard, and like a wolf coming back to where the elk was plentiful in earlier summers, Decker keeps on coming back.
Well. Maybe it’s not that dramatic. But whatever the reason, the front door of the house-turned-office-turned-house bangs open and Decker backs in, his arms laden with a big box of … something. ‘Something’ turns out to be four ripe watermelons, which he tumbles messily out onto the kitchen counter. One of them spins lopsidedly to the edge and almost teeters over, caught at the last second — smoothly, without hurry, like a professional volleyball player setting a spike — by a well-placed palm.
“Want some melon?” he inquires of Jakob, who he saw, presumably, on the way in. Meanwhile, he splits one of the melons clean in two with a heavy cleaver and sticks a spoon in one half. Slices were for pussies. Taking his half a watermelon back to the living room, he sinks down onto his favorite beanbag chair and starts digging in. “Ain’t often that I buy tha pack fruit ‘n shit,” he adds — self-congratulatory.
[Randi Bartlett] *she listened as she started pulling sandwich making’s from the fridge and puts them on the counter* What or who is this Moon woman then? Someone important to the sept?
[Jakob Schmidt] Most days, the kinhouse was quiet. Most days, most nights, the only creatures that might stir within its walls had little reason to talk to one another. In Minnesota, Maya and Jakob had little reason to talk to one another; here it was only marginally different, and neither of them were always here besides. Currently, only Jakob was, so: it was quiet.
Til Decker came in. Silence. Right.
When that happened, Jakob was hunkered down somewhere in the living room, reading a book. So he was literate. Some paperback with a kid running on the cover. It had been here when he showed up, or he’d found it someplace; he certainly hadn’t bought it. Whale Talk, said the cover.
“Sure,” said the Skald. He’d glanced up when Decker came in, but not moved (to bow, to help, to…whatever). He looked up again when the Alpha entered the living room with his fruit, but he didn’t seem expectant. What kind of idiot Cliath expected an Adren to bring him his fruit, really? One corner of his mouth quirked slightly at Decker’s juicy enjoyment of his own generosity. “Watermelon?” he says, presumably confirming it to himself even though it’s right in front of his face.
His eyes track to the kitchen. “Shit,” he says, like someone witnessing a mystery performed.
[Evan McCollach] “Well she is a spirit. But she ain’t part of the sept. But she is powerful, able to cleanse taint, a lot of it. But she isn’t very happy with garou right now. So we need to convince her to help our cause.”
He watched her as she started to make some sandwiches for them.
“Well she could be, she could be incredibly important. But the Sept doesn’t seem to know anything about it. This is purely an Eagle’s issue, the sept and the Eagle’s are seperate.”
[Randi Bartlett] Oh yeah. I remember hearing the rumours back home before I left. *she shrugged. To her, it didn’t matter as long as there was Evan. She turned to the counter and started making roast beef sandwiches for them both* Ok, so if you get her to help then the Eagles can go back to the Sept, right? Is that why you are working so hard?
[Decker Rohl] Watermelon? — and Decker doesn’t bother reply; just gives Jakob a look. Shit, he adds, as Decker’s turning the spoon in a circle to scoop out a roughly half-egg-shaped chunk of melon. “Go git some ‘fore I eat i’tall.”
Which seems something of an empty boast, considering there were four there. Still, given Decker’s phenomenal rate of devourment, one never really knew.
When Jakob returns — or maybe when he never shows a sign of going — Decker wipes a stray trickle of juice off the corner of his mouth. “How’s yer eye,” he asks; only the words give a sense of question.
[Evan McCollach] “No, but a spirit this powerful, well it could clean out Hives, bring down fallen ones. This spirit is able to hold off her own area from being completely overturned with taint. It is really remarkable. But this will not unite the Eagles with the Sept. It must be something bigger, or hit closer to home.”
And he had thought about it, when she mentioned more about the Eagles, he knew he still had to have Decker and Randi meet.
[Randi Bartlett] *she blinked wide* Wow. Yeah, that would be great to have as an ally. *she pushed a sandwich towards him* I haven’t heard of a Hive being around home since granddad was our age, remember that story? *she chuckled* Ok, so if it’s just trying to please a spirit, then I won’t worry as much.
[Jakob Schmidt] He keeps looking towards the kitchen for a moment, oblivious or perhaps indifferent to Decker’s possibly empty (probably honest) threat. Boast. Whichever. Sticking his index finger in between the thin pulpy pages of his book, he pushes himself to standing and goes into the kitchen. Slices are for pussies? Well, that should seal the deal on anyone’s estimation of him Jakob comes back with two neatly (thickly) cut triangular slices, one for each hand. The book? He must’ve left it in the kitchen, forgotten.
There’s a flicker of something incredibly young in his eyes when he sits back down. It has to be ‘young’, because only the freshest of cubs get looks like that, still. His left eye is still healing, but faster than it would if he were human. Jakob’s first bite is enormous, and the juice gets in the hair on his chin. It’s odd that he’s a Cliath, still: he looks as old as Decker. Older, maybe. It’s hard to say, especially with that look in his eyes. Young. Delighted.
Watermelon.
“S’fine,” he says, not bothering to finish chewing before he answers again, not bothering to finish chewing before he takes another bite. His eyes go to Decker’s right arm, a brief flicker, then away again.
[AnneMarie Hoch] AnneMarie is perhaps the only Eagle packmember to actually have a room in the refurbished office. It’s fitting, as it’s her pet that resides in the work out room. Sniper The Snapper Turtle, who is praised and spoiled everytime he takes the end of a finger off a packmate.
From the upstairs living area, she arrives, her steps near silent on the stairs. In the heat, her buttondown blouse has been replaced by a silken camisole, light blue and airy against her skin. The slacks are the same however.
She knew Silence was there before she came down, of course. She goes to the kitchen first, to cut herself a slice of the watermelon. Setting it on a plate, and grabbing a napkin, she makes her way to the living room. A lift of her chin toward Decker, first. Then Jakob.
[Evan McCollach] “Yeah I couldn’t actually picture a hive at home. It’s just to pristene. But its definately not going to happen again.”
He watched her as she worked on sandwich and he thought about it a bit longer.
“You know that Decker wants to meet you, he wants to see the girl I have chosen for a mate. I am sure I have told you this before.”
[Decker Rohl] AM’s entrance (and subsequent exit, into the kitchen) seems barely even noted by Decker. But then, as she had been aware of him from the moment he stepped in — from long before — the converse is also true.
So. She walks through, greets ’em. He eats his watermelon.
Doesn’t stop him from catching the glance to his arm, though. It brings a flicker of a smirk. The Modi drops the spoon into the hole he’s made in the melon and flexes his elbow experimentally, as though he had lost some major piece of the arm rather than a fancy tattoo. “S’fine too,” he says, without Jakob’s asking, perhaps with a hint of humor.
“You ever go on wyrmhunts up in Winter’s Tooth?”
[Randi Bartlett] *she nodded* You have. But I haven’t pushed it. I figured you’d take me when you were ready to. *taking a bite from her own sandwich*
[Evan McCollach] ‘I think that maybe its about time you meet them. The Eagles.”
He knew that there was nothing he could say to try and prepare Randi to meet the pack. He only hoped that it went smoothly. Well maybe a small warning.
“But just to let you know Decker is a Get Adren, he is not very welcoming and not very.. vocal. And AnneMarie, she is mute and a Get as well.”
[Jakob Schmidt] Jakob’s first answer is a shrug, which isn’t one. His mouth is full; that’s all Decker gets til he finishes chewing, or at least swallows enough to make moving his tongue a feasible operation. When that happens, he wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and looks over at the Modi with a nod. No, not a nod. Another shrug. “A couple.” He doesn’t add: well, he doesn’t add it – how would you know?
[Maya Nevskaja] When she’d left the kin house earlier in the day her veil of mystique had been firmly in place – “Shopping” – was the vaguely thrown answer to Jakob’s enquiry about where she aimed to go with little money, no understanding of the city and hair still wet and fragrant from a lengthy discovery of the joy of convenient hot water and the wonders of herbal essences. She didn’t talk much, but it had little to do with issues with the other Garou surrounding her – that was simply Maya.
She didn’t enjoy discussion unless there was some purpose to it.
The rustling of a plastic bag heralds the Godi’s return, one moment she’s absent from this space and time and the next – dark eyes are watching from the corner of the room and her thick, black mane has dried into waves of untameable glory. There’s the most peculiar smell rising off her purchases, and what could not be mistaken for anything less than the feet of a bird emerging from the corner amongst a collection of brightly coloured feathers.
Sometimes, some things a crescent moon did were simply left in the shades of grey to which they lived. She casts them looks, the dark-eyed Godi, as she crosses the expanse of the room with her bare feet – there are scars on her ankles, on her wrists where the skin is mottled and white, injuries not properly healed and noticeable now when she does not wear her jewellery – and enters the kitchen to set her bag on the bench – enticing apart her bird from the feathers with firm motions.
[Randi Bartlett] *she nodded* Alright then. Whenever you want to go, let’s go. *she smiled warmingly* I know I might not get along along with everyone. Hell, I’m the tree hugging Coggie kin. *she giggled* But if I can get along with your dad, I’m sure I can be tolerated by your pack.
[Decker Rohl]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 4, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[AnneMarie Hoch] When she rejoins them in the living room, she appropriates one of the rather uncomfortable looking chairs for herself. She crosses slender legs, and sets her plate down on her knee. She breaks off the watermelon with a fork, and takes small bites. She is nothing if not unfailingly polite with impeccable manners. How she manages to remain that way with Decker and the other Eagles she’s known is anyone’s guess.
Unsurprisingly, she says nothing. Just watches Maya’s entrance, and listens to the others.
[Decker Rohl] (that was a percep roll for jake. don’t panic.)
[Decker Rohl] He doesn’t add — something; and this earns him a look from the Modi, a long, speculative, piercing one.
A moment; two. Then he’s seemingly distracted by Maya’s entrance. Or rather, he gives Jakob the out of pretending to be distracted. He gives the Godi an incredulous look: feathers? Bird feet? — and in the end decides it’s best not to question.
“Don’t git no feathers in tha melon,” is all he says before returning his attention to Jakob. Whatever question the Skald might be dreading now, this is what he gets: “You got tha Gift ta ignore pain?”
[Evan McCollach] “Well I think I am ready, I just hope you are. I can check where they are, see if they are on patrol or out at the packhouse or what not.”
He knew how much of the comment about his father was true. He loved and respected his father, but he was a difficult man to get along with. He was very much a silver fang leader, a traditional man with much riding on his shoulders.
And then over the totemlink, Evan’s voice starts up. Looking to see if Decker was up and around, willing to meet his mate.
Decker, I am with Randi, I was wondering if you wanted me to bring her by the packhouse tonight?
[Decker Rohl] Briefly, Decker’s attention strays inwards: Yeah, why not.
[Randi Bartlett] Hey, I’m up for anything, you know that. *she grinned and winked then took a bite of sandwich, watching Evan*
[Jakob Schmidt] Maya is there, now (again). AnneMarie has been there for a few moments. Jakob and Maya make good roommates: neither of them makes much effort to engage the other in conversation, idle or otherwise. AnneMarie, well. She has to write to talk to Jakob, and most of the time it’s just too much bother unless there’s something real to say. He keeps to himself unless spoken to directly, summoned, asked for something; he has been like this since they met, bloody and filthy, after the Revel three weeks ago.
Maybe he’s arrogant. Perhaps he’s distracted. Could be that he’s just in the habit of keeping his head down and his mouth shut. All of the above. Something else. God, who knows. It’s hard as shit to read people who hardly talk and rarely make eye contact. It’s entirely possible that he doesn’t look up when Maya enters because he just does not need to know about the shopping habits of Godis. For fuck’s sake.
Decker stares at him piercingly. Head down, but mouth open, Jakob just takes another bite of his watermelon. He savors every mouthful. If there’s dread, it doesn’t show, not around the still-lingering delight with the fruit. He nods, while chewing, since it was a yes-or-no.
[Decker Rohl] Decker, meanwhile, has his spoon gripped in his fist like a rude child grips a knife. Twists it in a big circle in the watermelon to carve out another chunk, which he eats messily. “Huh,” he grunts, or maybe “Hnh.” Chews, swallows.
“Why ain’tcha used it that night, when tha Raven tore yer face up?”
[AnneMarie Hoch] Small bites, taken and chewed carefully, before swallowed. Unlike the boys, she does not wipe the juice with her hand. She uses the napkin procured for just that purpose.
Jakob seems to fit in well. Maya too. Neither expect her to be a great conversationalist. She could be – but it causes hand cramps.
Decker poses a question, and she quirks a brow, interested in hearing the answer. To see if it matched her own.
[Evan McCollach] “Well I guess its time. They are across town. But the buses don’t work so qucikly right now. So.. ummm.. we might have to take…” He loathed to say it, he didn’t want to get on that death machine, sitting right on top of the combustion bomb, but he had no choice. “… umm well we need to take your bike”
He took a few bites out of the sandwich that Randi made and just seemed to smile again.
[Randi Bartlett] *she giggled* Oh, it’s not so bad. You are just still upset about that time you fell off the back. *she headed around the counter to get her things. She grabbed her helmet, and brought out a spiffy new one for Evan* See? I didn’t forget you.
[Jakob Schmidt] This time the question can’t really be answered in a nod or a shake of the head, a yes or no, a couple of words at most. Decker’s asking for an explanation of a rather rapidly made choice; that’ll take more than a handful of syllables, won’t it? Sure it will.
Jakob licks his lips and sets one empty watermelon rind on a spare edge of table, coffee or otherwise. He holds the other, still fresh and looking like Classic Summer, and looks over at Decker. He shrugs, once. “Didn’t think of it.” One reason, and honest enough. “Didn’t really expect to get all that badly hurt.” Another reason, equally true. “Wouldn’t have helped.” And with this last reason, another (yes, that’s right) shrug.
[Maya Nevskaja] Whatever it is she does in the kitchen, she finishes it promptly enough and strides back into view with some grotesque looking carving in her hand, decorated in raven feathers, stuck on with something that looked unsettlingly akin to [and smelled rather like it also] avian blood. She crosses the room again, and this time calls over her shoulder in a throaty accent as she mounts the staircase to the second level.
“Don’t enter the kitchen until I return.”
And – the Silver Fang raised Godi’s slight footsteps recede.
[Jakob Schmidt] At that, Jakob’s head comes up, his mouth opening as if he’s going to ask Maya a question. She walks away, though, and his brow furrows. He glances at the kitchen, filled with watermelon and his book and now God knows what else. With a shake of his head, Jakob’s old man’s brow clears and he takes a bite out of his watermelon.
[Evan McCollach] He licked his teeth at her remembering him falling off. Why couldn’t she forget that incident. The thing suddenly came to life and jutted ahead. He wasn’t prepare for it. And part of him begrudgingly took the helmet.
“I’ll give you directions on the way there.”
[Randi Bartlett] *she nodded and moved over to kiss him softly* I won’t drive crazy tonight, ok? *she smiled* You just hold on tight. *then heading out*
[Decker Rohl] “Well, shit, there’s watermel–” the Godi is already gone. “Shit,” Decker mutters under his breath. Well, at least he had his half-a-melon.
Jakob again: “Wouldn’a helped?”
[Jakob Schmidt] He shakes his head, glancing to Decker again. One cheek is bulged out from the big bite of watermelon he’s chewing. It deflates as he swallows, and he licks his lips. “Raven brought…some stuff up when it took the duct. That’s what put me on my knees.” Jakob has to say that, or needs to. It wasn’t the bird’s talons on his chest or its beak in his face that had made him crumple, made him keen. He has to say that. “The gift wouldn’t have helped with that.” Again.
[Evan McCollach] He had gotten on the bike and had been reserved about doing it. She had started it up and luckily for Evan he didn’t actually fall off this time. And then, as they were on their way, he directed them. He tried hsi best to give her accurate directions over the rush of wind pass their ears. And after a few moments he had finally got them on the right path to the rest of the pack.
[AnneMarie Hoch] A brow arches slightly at the passthrough of the Godi, and she flicks a glance toward Decker and Jakob, then another curious one toward the Kitchen.
Then her pale eyes rest on Jakob with his answer. An brief look of understanding through her eyes, before she looks down to cut another little piece of watermelon from the slice on her plate.
[Decker Rohl] Maybe something changes in Decker’s eyes at that admission. Maybe he’d come here with one purpose in mind — schoolin’ the pup, or teaching him; abandons it, now. Or maybe not. Hard to tell sometimes: his eyes are grey as a storm, and sometimes as blank as concrete.
“You wanna tell me what ‘some stuff’ is?” It seems a genuine question.
[Randi Bartlett] *the entire ride was smooth. She didn’t do any of her crazy stunts like she normally did. She also made sure he held on tight as they rode through the streets. Evan and Randi’s apartment kissed the borders of Eagle territory already, but then, Eagle territory was a large expanse. The Ninja roared along, and she followed his directions. When she had the money, she was going to make sure she got the 2 way radios installed in their helmets.. When they hit their target, the motorcycle’s engine roared outside the building. She killed the engine, and put down the stand before she pryed Evan’s hands from her waist with a grin.*
[Jakob Schmidt] The pup, with a face as old as any Adren and eyes that can’t seem to decide whether they’re puppy or winter wolf, quirks an eyebrow at the Alpha. The Alpha. Not his Alpha. “You wanna know?”
He’s impudent, or – worse yet – just as genuine as Decker seems to be. He is a Skald, after all. Not all Galliards live to hear their own voices, Jakob’s evidence enough of that, but they do seem to all share a certain affection for telling stories (however they choose to tell them). It appears, at least for the moment, that Jakob is willing to talk…unless the question was idle. Conversational. Pointless. As for his own desire, to speak or to keep silent, Jakob is dodging.
[Evan McCollach] He looked at Randi as they finally came to a stop in front of the Eagle’s place. She definately had to pry her hands from her side after riding that stupid machine. Why did she have to have a motorcycle.
“Okay. You ready?”
He had mentally prepared himself to this. Not so much as he had with the bike ride, but this could turn out much worse. And with a bit of resolve, he just opens the door to the house, moving inside, but still holding it open for Randi to come in.
[Decker Rohl] Decker’s finished the watermelon by then. He carves a last thin slice of red off the pale walls, eats it, and then sets the whole mess on the old coffee table. Most of the furniture in here, Annemarie got. Her or her former packmate, Gustav, a Rotagar that was around for all too short a time. Then Annemarie had petitioned to join the Eagles, and waited a year and then some.
Ancient history.
The door opens again. This is the tableau that greets Evan and his mate: Decker and Jakob mired in some conversation, from which the Modi doesn’t even look up; Annemarie, slightly sidelined, listening. A Godi doing something upstairs, and a kitchen door tightly shut, despite the watermelon in evidence all around.
“I don’t axe if I don’t wanna know,” Decker’s saying.
[AnneMarie Hoch] She finishes the first slice, and moves the rind aside to begin on the second. Methodical, steady, even as she watches Silence Question, and Jakob Dodge.
And Evan enter. She had heard that he was coming of course, but had apparently used up her ration of words to him last night.
[Randi Bartlett] *she nodded, putting the helmets on the bike and following. She quickly caught up to him and slipped in just before and waited, wanting him to take the lead. She looked back and whispered* I hope this doesn’t go as bad as meeting Kendra.
[Evan McCollach] “I hope so too.”
And then when he gets inside he just hears Decker questioning someone and after moving further inside he notices that it is Jacob. He wasn’t sure what he had come into, but when Decker was questioning someone, it was best he if didn’t interrupt. So for the moment he just takes Randi’s hand and leads her into the house while Decker speaks.
[Maya Nevskaja] She’s gone for a while.
When she returns, there is something like satisfaction swimming into focus in Maya’s brown-black gaze, something that sets the hairs on her arms on edge; her skin flushed a pleasant rose. Evan and his mate arrive as she sets foot back in the living area – watermelon sweet in the air and Maya’s hands covered in fresh, ripe blood. She wipes them negligently against the pockets of her jeans (ugh) and lifts them to frame her face, sifting back the heaviness of her long hair against the heat.
And then – to the kitchen, and the rustling of her bag, the tidying away of her sacrifice.
[Randi Bartlett] *she held Evan’s hand and followed. From here, she wasn’t going to say another word til she was spoken to. She knew better, being brought up with all the other kin and trues around her. Til then, she stayed by Evan’s side, minding her surroundings and offering whoever looks to her that perky smile of hers*
[Jakob Schmidt] An engine roars and then cuts outside. Jakob takes his eyes off of Decker and flicks them towards the front door. He does not switch back and forth between wolflike mannerisms and human; they swing like a pendulum. Lupine movements come out of nowhere so gradually they aren’t a surprise; you wonder if he ever seems like a man. Boyish behaviors simmer, always there, never unusual. It flows, back and forth, or in a circle, sometimes both at once.
Evan comes in, Randi comes in, Jakob is watching them and Decker is watching him.
Blue eyes, neither piercing nor cold (not right now, at least) go from the redheaded not-a-Forseti and then track over to Randi. They stay there for a moment, then go back to the Modi without incident, question, or explanation. He hesitates before answering, but it doesn’t seem borne out of trepidation or wariness. He has to collect his thoughts. Jakob sets down the half-eaten triangle of melon on the table next to the empty boat-shaped rind of his earlier slice and licks a drop of juice off his thumb.
And then: “I would blame my own mind,” he starts, and his voice is different. It doesn’t change in pitch or timbre, it merely (somehow) holds more weight. He starts there, and continues: “if the Raven’s claws hadn’t felt like a woman’s hands when they touched my shoulder. Warm. Soft.” There’s a hint of smile, but not on his lips. In his voice, at the corner of his right eye – the corner of his left is still ravaged and scarring. “When it started to dig inside my skull for the seat of my tears – we were wrong about what it meant, though no great surprise there – it dug up something more than a bit of my ‘lacrimal apparatus’.”
Oh yes. He’s a Skald. Some answers are simple: a nod, a shake, yes, no, ‘a couple’. Short, choppy sentences. Not this.
[Jakob Schmidt] (More coming from Jakob, just figured I should post…y’know…at some point, so no one thought I’d wandered off. *G*)
[Decker Rohl] When Jakob had broken eye contact, Decker’s attention also flickers briefly to the couple entering; to the Godi descending bloodied. Briefly, briefly. Then his eyes are back on Jakob, well before Jakob’s answering.
A faint snort — “Tha seat’a yer tears,” Decker says; understanding, perhaps.
[Jakob Schmidt] The story, such as it is, takes a turn away from the shared setting of the Bog, the tree the Raven had perched in every time it took what it wanted from them (a tuft of fur, a strand of hair, a tear duct, a tongue, a treasure…). It shifts into the boundaries of Jakob’s own memories, into places all of them have been but only Decker and Maya know with any real intimacy. On the other hand, his words start to take them – whoever is in earshot – away from the simple material awareness of location, the illusion of ‘place’, and into …
Well. We’ll let him tell it.
“Back in Minnesota, there was a girl.” Because there’s always a girl, isn’t there? This is the part they will all know, will imagine before he’s even finished telling it. Great love, great loss. There’s always a girl. Love. Loss. Some part of each of them knows this story long before he’s opened his mouth to continue it: they can settle into the easy comfort of familiarity, while listening. “I met her when I was…oh, about ten. We were friends. And this was years…years…before I knew what I was. Before I knew what she was. She felt right. I didn’t feel strange, or out of place. She was Family, and when I was ten I had only the barest inkling of what that word could really mean.”
He glances down at his fingertips, pink-stained from the watermelon, and pauses a moment there. He does not lift his eyes for a few moments. “A long time later, but not that long ago, she died.” He doesn’t tell the story of the intervening years, however many of them there have been – at least ten or twelve, by the looks of him. “There is more to that night than I’ll speak about now, but…”
Jakob stops. For a moment, he is Jakob again, staring at his fingers. Not a Skald. Just…Jakob.
A breath. That’s all he needs. If he can remember how…to take a breath.
There. Inhale. His hands go limp and fall; he looks over at Decker and there is something merciless about the fact that he makes eye contact now, though his eyes seem hardly ruthless. They merely seem old, old upon old, without being worn by enough years to deserve that antiquity. “When the Raven took what it wanted from me, what I gave it freely, it also brought up that moment. It had snowed, and the surface of the snow was a frozen crust. It made me remember…everything. The leaning silhouettes of the trees. The pattern her blood made on the snow – the cold, in part, kept it bright red for hours.”
Bitterness, in that word. Anger at the weather, at the world, at the blood and the snow and time her blood stayed on the ground. He keeps watching Decker. “Death makes you small. It emptied her and tied me down.” Anger. Almost Rage, but not quite. “Death makes you inordinately, unforgivably material. And it leaves these bright…livid…patterns in the snow. Everything else, it takes. Everything but the blood, and the cold, and the weight of your own useless physicality.”
[Jakob Schmidt] (Thank you guys for waiting for that. I apologize for making you. *G*)
to AnneMarie Hoch, Decker Rohl, Evan McCollach, Maya Nevskaja, Randi Bartlett
[Jakob Schmidt] A moment passes, long enough to let them know he’s done, but before anyone gets it into their head to speak, he picks up his watermelon again and his eyes leave Silence’s. “So. The gift wouldn’a helped.”
[Evan McCollach] He did not think that the sacrifices that were made would be brought up when they visited the house. He did not want Randi to worry about him, he didn’t make a sacrifice, but Randi would still worry anyway. And whatever Decker had dug out of Jacob seemed incredibly important, because this is probably the longest that he had spoken under his own volicition.
And when Jacob finishes his story, he can’t help but look at Randi. He could understand part of the story, love lost. But his was not that of death that stole her away from him once. But he had a second chance now, something that Jacob could never get. And for the moment he stayed completely silent.
[Decker Rohl] It’s not a long tale. It’s certainly no poetic edda, the likes of which survived the centuries in spite of, in defiance of, or perhaps because of the scourging raids of the norsemen to inspire germanic and english literature for ages to come.
Still. This is a Skald speaking, and they’ve been without one for so long that sometimes Decker forgets what that means. A Skald; not some fancy Galliard of the southern and western and eastern and what-have-you tribes, but a Skald of the cold north.
And then — it’s not. And then it’s just Jakob speaking, or perhaps it’s Jakob the Skald speaking, and Decker is reminded, once again, how reality is not as it is in the stories. How he’s not the shining Modi, the warleader and the caernraiser that stories of him will perhaps make him out to be one day; nor the betraying, abandoning Modi that stories of him perhaps already make him out to be. How he’s just Decker, or Silence, or Silence the Modi, and —
There’s a sense of more layers to that story. But what Jakob doesn’t tell, Decker doesn’t pry for. Not tonight, anyway.
“Y’ain’t a very inspirin’ sorta Skald, is you,” he says at last. The tone is not accusatory. It’s — low, and amused, and perhaps a little more familiar than it had been.
[Jakob Schmidt] (*smacks Clark with the ‘K’ key*)
[AnneMarie Hoch] She listened throughout, her fork stilling, her posture of one who spends a lot of time, just like this. Watching, intense, hearing what is beyond the words, as well as the words themselves. She continues to watch him for a moment or three more, before her fork finally lifts again to deliver another bite to her lips.
There’s a bit of a smirk at Decker’s comment. For her part – she makes none. It’s not a surprise.
[Evan McCollach] (Sorry V)
[Randi Bartlett] *she rested her head on Evan’s arm, a bit of a frown at such a sad tale. She now clasped Evan’s hand with both of hers and shared Evan’s feelings for a second chance.*
[Jakob Schmidt] Jakob takes a bite; Decker tells him he ain’t very inspirin’.
“The Skald are memory, as much as inspiration,” he answers, around the bite of watermelon he’s chewing on. He swallows and smirks at him. It’s a guard against more – that ancient look isn’t out of his eyes just yet, but it’s fading. “If all you want is morale, get a camp follower.”
[Decker Rohl] A snort — “Think what I want from you is morale?”
[Jakob Schmidt] He snorts, licking the corner of his lips. Watermelon – it’s oh-so-juicy. “You’re the one who groused about me not being inspiring.” He sets down the second empty rind beside the first and leans back into the chair he’d been sitting in, his hands on his abdomen.
[Evan McCollach] He waits. He stands there with Randi by his side. He was not sure what Decker and Jakob were getting at, or to, but he didn’t wish to interrupt at this moment. This was a conversation that needed to be handled in his mind.
So he just moved with Randi a bit more inside the room, around the exterior of the room. He wasn’t going to test Decker right now. Not when he was at this.
[Decker Rohl] (sorry bout delay! wandered off.)
A fainter still smirk: “Was I grousin’?” And the Modi leans forward. “Lookit me. Do it look like I’m grousin’?” Pause. “Know what tha firs’ thing I figgered out was, after my Change?”
[Randi Bartlett] *she followed Evan, her smile tiny but there. She found it all intriguing actually. Listening to the two men talk.*
[Jakob Schmidt] And Jakob sits there. He’s spoken more tonight than he has in the past three weeks – to Decker or anyone else, for that matter. The sound of his voice is so unfamiliar it’s unlikely any of them would recognize it over the phone, he’s so taciturn. So Decker asks him the same question twice, his smirk barely surviving on the edges of his face, and of course he’s not really looking for an answer. Jakob could give him one, if the repetition wasn’t rhetorical. He was already looking at Decker, anyway.
He sits there, looking at Decker like he was before it was obedient, about as intimidated by the Modi as he was by the Adren and higher-ranked Fenrir of his type in Minnesota (which was to say: moderately). That was how it was, whether or not Decker was trying. That was just who what he was. Jakob cocked his head to one side and shrugged one shoulder. “No.”
[Decker Rohl] “That heroes die first, Skald. ‘n heroes die stupid.” He leans back, the beanbag chair rustling as its conformed to his shape. “I don’t want no stupid Skald yammerin’ in my ear ’bout some hero who died young ‘n glorious. I seen death more’n anyone in this room. There ain’t nothin’ glorious ’bout it. I axed ya ’bout tha Gift ’cause I wanted ta know if you knew why we use it. It ain’t so we kin fight hard ‘n die glorious. It’s so we kin fight hard ‘n die silent. So our loved ones don’t hafta hear about how bad we died. It’s ta put on an act fer their sake. But ‘guess you already knew that.”
He’s strayed from the topic. He ain’t no Skald. He recollects his thoughts, drawing a slow breath, wishing he had a beer.
“I want a Skald who knows what tha ugly price’a war is,” he finishes, “‘n one who kin still remind me why I gotta be tha one ta pay it when a hundred others weaker, stupider, ‘n more fucked-up than me git ta live. You jus’ showed me you got half’a that down. But y’ain’t got much in tha way’a perception, boy, if ya thought I was criticizin’ ya.”
Long speech. He’s done with it. He gets up and grabs the half-shell of a watermelon, heads into the kitchen to dump it. Over his shoulder to Maya, “Safe ta go in, Godi?”
[Randi Bartlett] *she paused and looked up to Evan. Now she was curious what this Gift thing was. But that was a question for another time.*
[Maya Nevskaja] Maya appears — she has a habit of doing this, just enough for it to make you blink, and cast her a particular look she’s accustomed to receiving — hooded and dark in the doorway, arms crossed neatly beneath her breasts.
“I didn’t harm the watermelon.”
She smiles, something sharp and foreign about it. Her eyes, too. Searching for something beyond the Modi, to the Skald and then finishing on Randi.
[Jakob Schmidt] Maya might know some of the unspoken layers to the story Jakob had just told, but probably not much more than he’s shared. Who the girl was. How, exactly, she died. The scant pieces of information that had filtered around the sept. She might. She might not, just as easily.
“I didn’t.”
As Decker’s finishing his…lecture, diatribe, speech, whatever it was…Jakob responds. It’s just before Decker asks Maya if the kitchen is kosher, before she reassures him that the watermelon is A-OK. And that’s all he says. It’s all he has to say.
[Decker Rohl] “Good.” It might’ve been for Maya; it might’ve been for Jakob. He doesn’t say it ’til he comes back out of the kitchen, watermelon shell gone, beer in hand, his attention moved on to Evan and — “Randi, huh.” Instead of returning to the beanbag chair, Decker straddles one arm of the ratty old sofa, eyeing Evan’s sudden mate.
[Evan McCollach] It seemed that Decker had finally finished he deep conversation with Jakob. And in that there was a mixed blessing. He did not think that Decker would give him another conversation like the previous one. But that left the grunting Decker and he was a bit more intimidating. Something about not actually using a true form of complex communication, can scare someone.
However he did not want to get between Decker and his watermelon. Until Decker actually address him and his mate.
“Yeah this is Randi, my mate. We have known each other since childhood.”
[AnneMarie Hoch] At some point, she has finished her second slice of watermelon. She remains seated, however, her plate resting on knee, fingers of one hand holding it there, the other hand resting lightly on her belly. Pale gaze follows the conversation, and then settles on Evan and Randi.
[Decker Rohl] “‘n she jus’, what, showed up one day ’cause she couldn’t live without’cha no more?” The beer opens with a pop-hiss. He doesn’t bother offering it to the rest of the pack, but then again, the fridge was open territory. Fair game.
[Randi Bartlett] *she let go of Evan and took a step forward to offer her hand* Hi, Randi Bartlett. *her smile showing more now* Actually I had no idea Evan was even here. He hadn’t written home since he left over a year ago. I got accepted to U of I to study engineering to help the Nation.
[Decker Rohl] There’s a beat as Decker stares at the outstretched hand. An unfortunately byproduct of having reticient packmates is that for any interaction, it seems like there’s always more audience than participants. And being in the figurative spotlight can’t be comfortable for the kinwoman. Kingirl. Whatever.
Eventually, Decker does put his hand out. Palm down. He grips the girl’s hand in his; his palm is rough and calloused, and very warm. It’s as though his rage makes him burn brighter and hotter than most — a searing meteorite, up close and personal.
“Decker.” He lets her go. And a snort, “Garou Nation.” He says it derisively, almost spitefully. If there’s a Garou Nation, he ain’t never seen it: and that’s writ on his face, if any of them knew how to read it. Which they probably didn’t. Anyhow: “Hell do ya do, ‘sides study?”
[Decker Rohl] (an unfortunate byproduct.)
[Jakob Schmidt] Decker’s attention shifts from Jakob to May and now to Randi and Evan. Jakob, meantime, cleans up his watermelon rinds and tosses them. When he comes back from the never-really-stocked kitchen, his hands are washed and he’s got his book again. Whale Talk. By that time, Randi is stepping forward to offer Decker her hand.
Jakob, it seems, is ignoring Evan and Randi. And Decker. And Maya. And AnneMarie.
[Maya Nevskaja] (*throws the dead bird at Jakob* Maya! Not May. Tsh.)
[Randi Bartlett] *it was a short shake, but one none the less. She was more surprised he even accepted it.*
Well, I have a job not too far from here. I’m a really good mechanic. You can ask Evan. *she still smiling* I’ve been working on cars since I could reach over the grill. There weren’t too many girls like me back home. I liked playing with the guys, getting greasy and playing ball. Most of the girls were into dolls and dresses, and stuff.
[Decker Rohl] “Do ya cook?” — blunt like that.
[Evan McCollach] He watches as Decker actually accepts Randi’s outstretched hand. He wasn’t really sure if that was a good thing of a bad thing. But as the moment unfolded, Randi continued to speak on. He was unsure how Decker would take it, but after seeing him putting back together the Barracuda, or at least lifting the engine and putting it in place, he figured maybe that one point would spark something out of Decker.
Then again maybe not.
[Randi Bartlett] *she blinked* Well, I haven’t burned anything yet. *she giggled softly* I’m a fair cook. The basics really. Nothing gourmet. But yeah, you need something cooked, I can make sure your fed properlike.
[AnneMarie Hoch] There’s a huff of breath at that. Perhaps it’s simply because she suddenly stood. Perhaps it is what settles as a snort from the tall Modi. Either way, she doesn’t explain. Instead, she moves across the room, and into the kitchen, to return a few moments later with a beer.
She retakes her seat, opens her the bottle, and takes several long swallows.
[Decker Rohl] “Schmett’lin’ usedta cook ’round here. Moira ‘fore her. Schmett’lin’s up at Storm Hammer now ‘n Moira…” he trails off; shit, he didn’t know wtf Moira was up to. Note to self: call Moira, see wtf she’s up to. Also, ask her to come by and clean before they drowned in their own debris. “All we got is fuckin’ watermelon ‘n beer. You come by ‘n cook, I won’t kick yer ass every time ya giggle. Heh.” Maybe that little grunt at the end indicates a joke. Serious again, “You need money, we kin try ta chip in.”
[Randi Bartlett] *she nodded* Ok. I can make sure you guys have food ready to eat every day. *she seemed to be doing the math in her head* Yeah. I get off anywhere from 2 to 3, I can swing by here, fix up some dinner, and have it stay warm in the oven for you. If it doesn’t take too long, I can clean up around here too before I head home to Evan. When the fall semester starts, I’ll have to see what my schedule is so I can work everything in. Will that be alright, sir? Or do you prefer me calling you Decker? *not wanting to assume. She was taught proper growing up. Always ask first, especially when it came to trueborns*
[Decker Rohl] “Naw, ‘ll git Moira ta clean.” Check. “‘s jus’ Decker.” A pause. Then, marvel of marvels: “Thanks.”
Abruptly, to the room at large: “If we’s all starin’ at each other here, who tha fuck’s patrollin’?” And he gets up.
[Randi Bartlett] You just have to ask, Decker. I don’t mind helping where I can. *she smiled and looked back over her shouldre to Evan, biting her lip. She then looked back to Decker* So then, I can stay with Evan?
[Jakob Schmidt] Sometime in there, noticed or not, Jakob had left the room. And the house. The book was still on the chair.
[Decker Rohl] It’s a warm night, well in the 80s when the sun went down, and slowly drifting toward the 70s. Decker doesn’t bother to put on any outerwear. The act of getting ready to leave is simple: he gets up, he goes to the door, he knocks back his beer.
And turns, puzzled. “Well, why tha hell not?” A glance at Evan. “You got a problem with ‘er stayin’ wit’cha?”
[AnneMarie Hoch] Patrols. Forever and ever Patrols. I’d just finished a route before you arrived.
She stands, and with a nod to the room. She grabs her jacket from the back of a random chair, and slips it on. I’ll make another pass.
She has always patrolled more then most – except for Decker, perhaps. Her walk throughs are near constant, with a stop to eat, to drink, and to go again. Decker pauses by the door, and she moves past him with a lift of her chin, and is outside once again.
Fresh air. Or something like it.
[Randi Bartlett] *she shrugged* Things from people were so mixed lately. Especially someone named Kendra?
[Evan McCollach] Wait, what the hell? Did Decker just say… thanks? He could feel the cloud of confusing start to set in. And he just looked over at Randi and was dumbstruck. He wanted to ask her how she got Decker to say Thank you, it was a miracle. And then the question is tossed to him.
“I have no problem with it.”
[Randi Bartlett] *she tried giving AM a wave as the Modi left, well aware of the Modi’s handicap* Nice meeting you.
[Decker Rohl] He flicks a glance at Randi, but speaks to Evan. “You want‘er ta be wit’cha? As yer mate?”
[AnneMarie Hoch] Belatedly. Might suggest she ain’t go near Sniper. And her footsteps fade into the distance.
[Evan McCollach] “Very much so.”
He had been silent during the somewhat interrogation thing. He was not sure what he was going to say, he was question Randi. And when teh question finally came to him he answered, and nodded.
[Maya Nevskaja] Maya makes a noise, a faintly amused one at that as she watches Jakob leave. Her deliberately darkened eyelashes fall heavily against her cheeks, she shifts her stance and looks up, watching the Modi.
“Is patrolling considered a bonding experience?” Maya rolled words, they took time slipping from her tongue and she moved around the kin house with surprising familiarity, clearly, at some point, she had spent enough time here to know where to pick the disgarded book up and replace it — idly flipping through its contents and turning a picture to differing angles beforehand.
[Decker Rohl] “Then I ain’t got no problem with’it.” Consciously or unconsciously, he mirrors Randi’s words for a moment ago. And now, to Randi, “Kendra.” The name drips with disdain, almost as much as Garou Nation had. “You have more problems with ‘er, tell Evan ta kick ‘er ass.”
Naw, you tell’er. ‘s yer fuckin’ turtle, and he pulls the door open roughly, rattling the door in the frame. A glance at Maya —
“‘s a necessity.” And he smirks. “So we kin tell them Maelstrom fuckers ta stay out.”
[Randi Bartlett] *she smiled brighter* Yes, Decker, and thank you so much. *she turned and nearly pounced Evan with a hug* Can I faint now?
[Maya Nevskaja] “I could teach you some cursewords in Russian, Decker,” She adds mildly, stepping in behind him as he leaves, her brand of amusement awash against her pale cheeks, a small smile that grows and harbors briefly, brightly.
“You could put them to use on the –,” She echoes with unease. “Maelstrom fuckers.”
[AnneMarie Hoch] A smirk – unseen, of course, as she’s well down the block. Let her get bit then. She’ll learn, just like everyone else, of Sniper’s love for fingers and toes.
[Evan McCollach] He just smiled when Randi commented, it was rather cute to hear her say that, especially after how much he thought it would be a lot worse.
“No, you have to take the bike back home. I have to get to my patrol. And don’t worry, Kendra wont bother you anymore. I am sure of it.”
[Decker Rohl] “Naw, what’s tha use if they don’t un’nastand what ‘m callin’ them,” and the door shuts on the pair, Modi and Godi.
(thanks for the RP, all!)
[Randi Bartlett] *she nodded* Do you want me to come back later to pick you up?
[Evan McCollach] “No I will see you back at the apartment, I will work my patrol out to there. I need to finish the southern portion of the patrol and then head back over to you.”
He smiled, maybe it was just his way of not having to get back on the ninja
[Randi Bartlett] Alright. Try not to be too long. *she smiled so sweetly and kissed him, letting it linger a moment before pulling away* I love you, Evan.
[Evan McCollach] He returned the kiss, not letting her pull away too quickly. Moving with her out of the packhouse.
“I love you too.”
[Evan McCollach] (Thanks for the scenage. Have a good night)