[Edwin Morr] ((Don’t think I’m starting. :) ))
[Rory] (GASP! We could make Gina start when she gets here… *L*)
[Rory] Chinatown. It’s the prowling ground of the Bogeymen, and Rory in particular, since Rory has a fondness for chinese noodles, and she works for food with a lot of folks in the area. Even now, she has a box of takeout that she was given for fixing a guys soda machine. She takes a bite, and offers the container to her Alpha.
“Hungry?”
He’s been in a bit of a mood – maybe food’ll help, right?
[Rory] .
to Rory
[Edwin Morr] Edwin, for his part, shakes his head. He walked with Rory, hands in the pockets of his brown denim coat. As always, his baseball cap was pulled low over his brow, casting his gaze in a perpetual shadow. As always, his features were as forgettable as they ever were…
As always, he wore that lopsided, liar’s grin. But tonight, perhaps… The grin was bit too dark, a bit too dark in its amusement… A bit too much the jape of the hangman.
After a few more steps, he nods toward the building across the street… as narrowed eyes consider the street in either direction.
[Gina McClaren] *Gina’s not living in the best area. Its in fact, a very bad area of chinatown. The crime here was of the organized type. The rent low. The neighbour’s… shady. The house, well.. ramshackle was a good word. An old dump was another good set. Its falling apart, faded brick and worn concrete stairs. Light glows behind a cracked window, Gina bustling about inside, stocking the kitchen with resignation. So much food. So little space. Why did they make fridges so small in the 60s?! Its bad enough the damn thing was orange.*
[Rory] She shrugs thin shoulders at that – means more for her, really, and Gina’s always telling her to eat – so eat she does, as she looks at the building that Edwin nods too. She tips her head slightly, curls brushing her shoulders as she studies it, and then glances both ways up and down the street. She rubs the side of her nose, absently, and then when the way is clear, heads cross the street to the little house in question.
The window’s cracked, and Rory puts it immediately on her to fix list along with anything else she notes about the ramshackle place. Up the steps, and then a light knock on the door.
[Gina McClaren] *A knock. Its with some wariness Gina approaches the door. She hadn’t had time to change the locks yet, and she didn’t want the tattooed triad in her home more than he absolutely had to be. Lest he decide they needed to barter a little more about rent. There’s a peep hole, clouded over with years of smoke, which Gina peers though without having to stand on her tiptoes. Small perks, she supposes. Two figures. One with flaming red hair. That had to be Rory. The door swings open to reveal a tiny Indian woman bundled in two sweaters and fuzzy yellow sweats that cling and are slightly threadbare. Favorites, or hand-me-downs, clearly.*
Och! Allo darlins!
[Edwin Morr] Edwin pulls a hand from his pockets, and waves with a dexterous circular motion of his fingers… The lopsided liar’s grin widening ever so slightly.
Then, replacing his hand in his pocket, he nods toward the interior of the house.
[Rory] She grins shyly as Gina opens the door, and then softly, ever shy…
“We save home news… Wan ce come in?”
It’s funny to think she’s there as interpreter for her Alpha, given her own speech difficulties.
[Gina McClaren] *It takes a moment. Gina having to figure out what it is Rory saying for once, rather than vice versa. Home news? save? What? Her puzzlement is clear on her face, as she looks to Edwin for clarification that doesn’t come. *
Course ye can coome en darlins.
*Instead she buys herself time by stepping backwards and closing the door behind them. she tosses her braid over her shoulder with a flourish and turns to face them in the – rather empty livingroom. A single blow up couch faces a blank wall. Grocery bags visible though the door of the kitchen.*
Wha’s thes than?
[Edwin Morr] Edwin walks in and looks about with narrowed eyes… Considering the blow up couch with no large degree of confidence. Then, with a shrug, he unzips his coat and withdraws the ever-present flask of something caustic and alcoholic. Unscrewing the lid and leaning against the wall somewhere near the couch, he takes a swig of the liquid fire… Before holding it out for one or both of the women with him in the room.
The ever present and always lopsided grin never leaves his face, though the muscles do tighten ever so slightly as the liquor burns its way to his gullet.
[Rory] She smiles that same shy lil smile at Gina, as she slips inside, and then stares at the little blow up couch, curiously. She looks around, and then first… “I can help you thix fings here, if ya mant we too..”
But, on to other things. “Edwin here – he’s sot nopposed to talk for two week. So I’m kinda talkin hor fim.” Heaven help them all. “Because of the wing thith Soledad.” She’s still so shy, so unbearably shy, she ducks her head as se admits the next part. “And I stepped up as gour yuardian, if that’s ok?”
She’s still shocked they let it happen, but glad, for her Pack’s sake. And she doesn’t take a drink from that flask – she learned her lesson LAST time… that stuff BURNS!
[Gina McClaren] *Gina frowns, puzzling out what Rory’s said, frown only deepening when its said Edwin can’t talk. There’s good news as well though, and after a hard swig of liquor draws a grimace, the pikey’s prepared to offer smile. Her arm wraps around the Fianna in an easy hug.*
Course tha’s aulrecht darlin… yer a good lass. Thank ye. Ah’m Saerry ye cannae speak though chancer. Suppose ye’ll be hard pressed tae lie.
*Tucked beside Rory, she reaches out to tug at the flannel of Edwin’s shirt, teasing as she passes back the flask to the Shadowlord holding up faded wallpaper..*
An’ welcome tae me glorious home.
[Edwin Morr] Edwin just grins wider as Gina mentions lying, and then after she takes the flask, taps his temple with his index finger.
Then, Edwin’s eyes take on a vacant cast… before returning.
[Edwin Morr] Over the totem phone, Rory hears the following from her alpha.
“Tell ‘er th’best lies’s made ‘thout sayin’ uh word, wouldja doll?”
to Rory
[Rory] She’s still getting used to Gina’s easy affection toward her, blushing as the pretty pikey pulls her into a hug and says it’s ok that Rory is her guardian now. She gives her a quick squeeze back, and quietly glows happy. Not many would accept a Metis as their guardian, let alone one not of their tribe. But Gina is her friend and she couldn’t just let her slip away.
Then she tries to glare at Edwin, and waggle her finger. “I told them they’d have to talk mo te before cey thome over now…”
And the she ducks behind Gina, grinning shyly, playful. Then she looks at Edwin, and grins, an’ adds “He says th’ lest bies are wade mithout sayin a word.”
They never told him he can’t talk over the Totemphone, after all.
[Gina McClaren] Thes, es gintae be priceless darlins.
*The novelty of Rory speaking for Edwin has Gina laughing, bumping the Fianna with her hip before sashaying over to the bogeyman. She wraps her arms around Edwin in a friendly hug, peering up into the man’s sly smirk with a grin that’s nothing but devious. She raises an eyebrow and murmurs into his ear, before looking to Rory and winking.*
Ye kain yer welcome tae come o’er whenever ye wan, aye? Me house, es yer house. Nae quarrels thes time.
[Edwin Morr] Edwin grins that sly liar’s grin, and winks at Gina… Nodding to her, and then extending a hand to Rory, his head tilted slightly to the side, as though inviting her to field the question/statement…
Or to deliver his answer to whatever he’d heard.
[Edwin Morr] Now, Rory hears this over the totemphone… The prickly feel that had been coming from Edwin becoming more amused than darkly so.
“As fer vis’tin’, I reckon dat’s yers ta han’le. Seein’s how she’s yer kin.
But if’n ya would, tell ‘er dat I’m shore we’ll fig’re sum’in’ out.”
to Rory
[Rory] She ducks her head, shyly and watches as Gina cuddles up to Edwin, and murmurs something to him. He nods, and she looks at him curiously..
…and then she ducks her head, blushing furiously. “it’s hour youse, Gina. Sust ho we’re clear. I won’t say who can come or can’t – long as no one hurts you. If anyone pants wermanent situation, THEN they can come mo te. I’m not Soledad. And if one of yours comes co Thicago, we’ll talk about it then.”
She peeks up at Edwin, and blushes again, ducking her head. “An’ he says fe’ll wigure somethin’ out.”
Poor innocent Rory… she’s waaaaaay out of her league here…
[Gina McClaren] *Edwin gets a smack. A good solid smack that rattles bracelets as a dusky palm bounces off his chest. She goes pink under caramel skin and rolls her eyes. A sigh as she makes an exaggerated sweeping gesture towards the pink inflatable couch.*
Thank ye Rory darlin. Sole’s nae a bad folk. Jes stubborn as hell. Reacts, more than she thenks. Come . Have a sit? Are ye still hungry, either o ye?
[Edwin Morr] Rory blushes, Gina smacks him…
And then they mention Soledad… Gina defends her. Edwin’s grin grows dark and terrible, once again becoming the hangman’s jape, if only briefly… Shaded eyes narrow, and something of the terrible creature that is called Edwin Morr bleeds through.
However, once food is mentioned, Edwin settles for the simple grin of lopsided deceit to which they’ve become so accustomed. He shrugs… as if to say he could eat, but wasn’t really hungry. Still… He releases Gina from his grip and makes his way to the pink inflatable couch.
Testing it with a tentative press of his hand.
[Rory] Rory hides a giggle behind her hand, as Gina smacks Edwin, peeking up at him through rusty lashes as she moves over to the couch and timidly sits on it, unsure if it’ll hold even her slight weight. She then holds up her takeout container. “Dinner. Mr. Fu broke his mlicing sachine.”
But, if Gina’s cooking, she grins. ” If you make more dhicken cumblins sometime, mall ce? That was good..” She’d forgotten how much Delmar and Edwin laughed at her last time she mentioned it… but instantly remembers, even if she’s sure she said it right this time. She did… right?
[Gina McClaren] Dicken cumplings? Peaches ah dinnae th-Och. Chicken! Aye darlin. Aye, ah’ll make some oop fer yer whenever ye please.
*Confusion is replaced by a smirk as the pikey leaves the two garou on the strange balloon couch. Chuckling as she moves into the kitchen to put the rest of groceries away.*
Dae ye like crisps?
*A package of Frito-lays are drug out from a paper bag, Gina bustling about the ugly yellow kitchen in her equally ugly yellow pants.*
[Edwin Morr] Edwin just grins wider, shaking his head and giving Rory an approving pat on the back. Then, settling on the pink thingie with deliberate slowness, he begins stretching out his legs…
Gina asks about crisps… Edwin turns to Rory and after a moment’s deliberation, nods…
He takes off his baseball cap and scrubs a hand through chestnut hair, before setting said cap on his knee.
[Rory] He sits next to her, and pats her on the back, and she basks in the approval. It’s clear, should Gina look over right then, that Rory idolizes her alpha, adoring him completely with the devotion of one who believes she’s found her place. And when he’s pleased with her, she near glows with pride, even if something so simple as talking to Gina for him, or stepping up to ensure she’s taken care of by the Bogeymen.
“I do!” once she looks and figures out that the crisps are potato chips.
[Gina McClaren] *its a few short moments before Gina returns. Bag of chips in hand. They’re alldressed. An acquired taste, but Gina was fond of the sweetness. Speaking of which, Rory gets a smile that can’t help but be kind and proud. The Redhead seemed so happy. True to pack ettiquette, Edwin’s offered the chips first, as his – well.. Rory‘s kin settles on the floor, resting her back on the terrible pink “thing”. Its cold in the little duplex, Gina rubbing her hands together to warm them. She bumps Edwin’s knee with her head, offering a smile as she looks up to the Bogeymen gathered in her livingroom.*
Awfully fond o yer Bogeymen. Effen we ‘ad Delmar here, we’d ‘ave a fine excuse fer a housewarmin party.
[Edwin Morr] Edwin takes a chip from the bunch he grabbed from the bag and eats it contentedly while handing the bag to Rory. Then, watching Gina rub her hands together, he tilts his head sideways and glances at Rory.
After a moment, he wolfs down the chips in his hand, before standing and pulling off his coat. He spreads it over Gina’s form like a blanket… A blanket somewhat heavier than it should be.
Knives were added weight.
[Edwin Morr] “Ask if’n ‘er heater’s broke, if’n ya would. Uh kinsickle ain’t e’sactly whut I had in min’ fer Gina.”
to Rory
[Rory] She takes the chips, and munches, and then watches Edwin and Gina a minute. She tips her head, listening, and the nods. “Is the beater hroke? Want me lo took?”
Which would give them time alone, too… she may be naive, and shy – but sometimes, she gets it.
[Gina McClaren] Och. Ah dinnae kain darlin, ets a water heater sort o theng. Makes a terrible racket, but doesnae heat the house worth a shite.
*Gina gives a bit of a frown at that, squirming into an oversized denim owrk coat. It had become second nature it seemed. The little pikey knew the placements of knives, the best way to slide her arms in the sleeves without slicing herself open. Its drawn closed with a contented sigh. She looks from Edwin to Rory, before singsonging.*
Effen ye could figure oot wha’s goin wrong, ah can buy ye the parts?
[Edwin Morr] Edwin waggles a finger in front of Gina’s face as she mentions buying the parts, settling back down on the pink thingie. Then, once settled, he points at his chest and nods… The implication clear that he’d see to the parts.
Then, he reaches for the chip bag again.
[Rory] She nods, with that same lil shy smile, and points toward the kitchen. “There?”
And then – taking a handful of the chips with her – she heads off in search of the water heater, following the racket, and taking off her backpack on the way. She always has her tool with her – and tonight is no different.
“You… uh. Behave?” And yeah, it’s said like she knows better. At least Gina didn’t say Edwin was a dinosaur. She still can’t quite look at Delmar without giggling…
[Gina McClaren] *Gina chuckles and shakes her head as she crawls up beside the Shadowlord, hands certainly not kept to herself. Sign language, as it were. Being good just wasn’t an option when it involved Edwin Morr. *
[Edwin Morr] ((looks like we’re fadig the scene here. Thanks for the rp :) ))
[Rory] (thank you! :) )