[Rafael Durante] “Swear to God I don’ get you Americans.”
The day has seen itself through to an indecisive end, the sun waffling between wanting to shine through the dim that had settled itself over the city and wanting to get out of the way to let the rain have its share. There were parades of course, there were block parties and barbecues and right now, there are fireworks sparking off in the distance. They cannot be seen from where the two Garou are currently prowling the sidewalks, but they can be heard, great booming barks that could just as easily be mistaken for gunfire, and Rafael doesn’t look too pleased by this.
He’s dressed as if his backpack exploded again this evening, wearing those horrid plaid cargo shorts and one of Santiago’s sleeveless t-shirts, an orange affair that doesn’t go with his baked earth skin, wearing those high-top Converse sneakers that have seen better days ages ago. One of them is untied, the laces clicking their eyelets against the concrete as they walk. His hands are plunged into his pockets and his eyes are warily regarding their surroundings. Looking for pig monsters, apparently.
“Why you gotta set off fucking fireworks this fucking late? People trying to sleep.”
[Danny Jones] She, of course, loves 4th of July. She loves any holiday, really, and she’d been drug out to do patrols when she got caught introducing Carolina to the wonders of Red White and Blue Popsicles, that paint your lips and tongue a funky shade of purple when the red and blue mix in your mouth. Sure, she’d been suposed to be sleepin, but it was a holiday, and Danny’s a horrible horrible influence, and they’d been having a fantastic time giggling together and playing barbies before they got caught. At least he let them finish the icy treat before Danny had to kiss the little girl goodnight, and head out on patrol.
Each boom of the fireworks in the distance makes her grin a little bit. A particularly loud soul shaking boom makes her jump, taking her by surprise, and THAT isn’t very fun at all, because that shit still hurts, yo! She’s much better, and is keeping up with him easily enough, but she’s still healing, and only her stubbornness keeps her from showing it. Much.
“Isa holiday. Folks is celebratin. Sides, fireworks are pretty! And loud, and fun!” And naturally, she adores them! She rubs her side a little, under her t-shirt, and scratches idly at the tape holding the bandages in place. Nother day, two, and she’ll be right as rain. She don’t like to walk around in a different form just to heal – seems a cop out, when it’ll take care of itself fast enough. She’s watching the shadows just as careful though. One goring by a pig monster per month is quite enough, thanks.
“They’ll calm down soon nuff. When they run out of fireworks – or beer – or both.”
[Rafael Durante] “Siempre hay cerveza,” he grumbles, kicking at an empty Colt 45 bottle and watching it as it twirls and skitters into the space between a Tempo’s wheel and the curb.
There is no one here to harp at him about his language, about the refusal to bridge the gap between his native tongue and that which the rest of the country speaks, and so he does not take it upon himself to translate for her, not without being prodded, and when he sees the question forming on her face and her lungs pulling in a breath to ask, he shakes his head to stop her.
“They ain’t gonna run outta beer.”
The cadence of growling air explosives does not abate, simply grows, the frequency and intensity shaking the sky. They pass under a building where a party occurs on the roof, where whooping and hollering occurs, where the smell of grilled meat and beer spill. Rafi takes a running leap and aims at the storefront sign of the laundromat next door, his hands not coming anywhere near close to touching, and he waits for Danny to catch up before he begins walking backwards again.
“So all we gotta do is figure out where Brodie’s dumb ass is so we can take a little vote, and you should be, how you say, good to go?”
[Danny Jones] She starts to ask, and then laughs and shrugs. “Maybe not. It’ll die down soon nuff. Sides, we ain’t sleepin.” Way to point out the obvious, Danny! He kicks the bottle, and then does the running jump thing, and she starts to join in the fun – but thinks better of it when she stretches her side, and smirks, just doing a hopskipjump thing to fall back into step with him, walking toward him as he walks backwards.
Her grin widens as she shoves her hands into the pockets of her cargo shorts and shrugs a little. SHe’s pleased though, that much is obvious. “Cool. I’m really glad. Ain’t felt this good bein with folks since I got to fuckin Chicago. Finally feel like I might belong somewhere, ya dig?”
Silly, sentimental. Girly. But ain’t matter – it’s still truth.
[Rafael Durante] It’s rare that this one discusses anything of any great significance or importance. Aside from speaking with Thaney all those weeks ago, offering his fellow Philodox counsel on a matter she had great difficulty resolving on her own, he had not had cause to open his mouth to do little more than entertain or irritate those within hearing range. Keeping his mouth shut is a problem he has encountered all of his life: he simply can’t do it. It takes a great expenditure of energy for him to not blurt out whatever it is he’s thinking. He stops just shy of being a prick, and through what great force of will that is, no one has quite figured out yet.
When she falls into step with him, so does he whirl to face right ways down the sidewalk, his strides in line with hers. There is no height discrepancy between the two, their legs equal length, their pace matched by the other.
“You always gonna belong where you is–you a fuckin’ warrior, ain’t no place not in need of warm cuerpos, bodies, yeah? You always belong here, it just don’ sound like you was comfortable with nobody. Fuck, Santi always think he didn’t belong in Oklahoma, like he supposed to be someplace more, what is word, populated? Is like, mother fucker, you belong where your family is, where your people is. Your people’s everywhere, you just gotta find the ones you don’t wanna beat the shit out of cuz they so stupid, yeah?”
[Danny Jones] One thing learned well under the half moon was the way she could listen. One thing she never could control was her mouth or her opinions, which got her in trouble more then once, yeah? Rafi told her back when he heard she was switchin that he ain’t understand it, but somethings, some things ya just gotta do. And It’s been clear ever since she done it, that she’s been a far happier Garou then ever before, an in this life – her life, where happiness is in short supply, she gonna hold on tight to whatever she got.
including Santi. “Heh. Santi just weren’t happy there cuz he ain’t found me yet. See, now me n Santi, we be fuckin happy anywhere.” Happy fuckin, fuckin happy – both work, and she says stuff like that JUST to annoy Rafi. Cuz he goes all ewGROSS when he hears it.
“But yeah, I get ya meanin. It’s just the findin them ones ya ain’t wanna beat. Loki was allright, but then he went an’ brought in that worthless Buy A Cow white wearin prissy mother fucker. Shit went straight up downhill after that. An that stupid Shadowlord business – that shit weren’t never right. I wanted to kill him first time I set eyes on’im, truth be told n all. You n Brodie? Shit. Ya ain’t no problem at all.”
[Rafael Durante] He does indeed go all ewGROSS when those words pass her lips: he executes a full body shudder and lets out a “Bleeeeyaaahh, no quiero oír eso, ¡por el amor de Dios! Don’ wanna hear ’bout you fuckin’ nowhere!”
When he recovers, when Danny turns the conversation back to the topic at hand, he follows along as well as he can considering he has not met the rest of her pack, that he has no clue about the Shadow Lords’ business, right or not right or anywhere in between.
“I got no clue what you are talking about,” he informs her, level. “Them Lords ain’t never right, what the ones here doing is so bad?”
[Danny Jones] She grins and lifts both her arms in a “SCORE!” manner, when he shudders and stuff, though it ends in a wince as she lowers her arms and rubs her side again. “fuckin pig!” An she ain’t mean Rafi, that much is clear.
She chuckles and shrugs then. “Ain’t heard much of nothin, since they started gackin each other after Baaku got gakked. But lesse. Ya ever heard of Baaku? Aside from that fuckin song and dance he’s the best fuckin garou ever known bullshit of a song that was done? He was fuckin insane. Half moon, but so rigid and judgemental and bent on this is RIGHT and all else must be PUNISHED and there ain’t no INTERPRETATION, theys just the LAW and the law says yer FUCKED and so kiss my high an’ mighty judging ass!” All accompanied by gestures, of course.
“He was so RIGID, he n me, we clash right away. Then I was basically told to get my ass into a pack NOW or be kicked n shit, and so in a move I still ain’t understand, he and I ended up packed together. It was fucked up. He wouldn’t see any other point of view but his, dig?”
“And then, after he an’ I part ways, he starts going bugnuts, and takes over the Hounds right? In a total coup, that ain’t no one understand why they let some stranger come in and take alpha of theys pack. Then! He starts spitting at the eagles, and three moots in a row, he challenges them. Says they ain’t real garou, says they need to lead or get off the pot, says they all fucked up because theys got two metis born, right? Well them fuckin Eagles, they RAISED the caern he was pissin in. One of the only packs left that was there, and Silence, he only takes so much.”
“So then Michael -that other fuckin dox lord, he starts spitting at Silence too, and then when Silence has enough and attacks, Baaku went to fucking attacke Silence FROM BEHIND. and when two Eagles stepped forward and that mute one, she tagged him in the side and made him bleed, that fucker went nuts. Challenged them all because they dare draw blood durin a moot, when he was gonna attack Silence and they just protected they alpha. She could have kilt him. She didn’t. Not till after when she demanded he make good on his challenge, and the fucker just stood by and let himself get kilt for wahtever reason. Then them other pack – the one with Michael? They says he attacked one of his pack for not being respectful, and they was so worried about their packmate – they left him bleedin on the ground while they killed him as a pack en mass. Then tried to act all pious and worried about they’s packmate they dropped to attack someone else from behind. The fuckin shadowlords round here man? FUCKED in the HEAD…”
Breathe, Danny.
[Rafael Durante] Rafael whistles at the end of that en masse spilling of recent events that had occurred prior to his arrival in the city. That it comes out in one breath seems to impress the ever loving crap out of him, given the way he can’t take his eyes off of the Ragabash as she speaks. He looks away once and a while to ensure he isn’t going to trip over something, run into something, but until she concludes her speech, he watches.
“Qúe fucked up,” he says, utterly amazed, lapsing into Spanglish for a moment there. “All the Lords I never know been all sneaky and shit, pero no han hecho nunca algo como eso… mierda. I mean, they no do anything like that. Just give e’ryone else the creeps, yeah?”
[Danny Jones] She nods, and gives a rueful grin. “Yeah, way fucked up – I swear, there was somethin in the water make everyone nuts. That’s why the Eagles done left the sept though. An I ain’t ashamed to say that if they ever called on me for help – I go without question. They the best of the fuckin best, even with the problems they gots now. Couple of theys members came back to the sept n shit. Kemp, he’s a good buddy of mine, but well, he got kinda messed up or something, cuz he gets all moody n serious n shit now. But if ya ever in a fight, ain’t no one better then the Eagles to have atcha back. Or Kemp. Or me, of course.”
The last bit gets a grin, and she finishes with an eloquent shrug. “I had my own shit to fix after that moot where the Eagles left, an’ I took a walk to clear my head and found myself banned for a while for doin so. The whole fuckin sept was way to worried about who’s fuckin who, and petty shit like that – they forget we had a motherfuckin HIVE next store, an’ they’s still got a goodly amount of fucked up shit to deal with there. Plus all the normal fucked up bullshit, ya dig? They too worried bout who’s gonna have who’s kid and where the Metis are stickin their dicks.”
One thing can be said about Danny – she says it like it is. Ain’t no wonder she got into so much trouble as a Dox.
[Danny Jones] (next STORE? next DOOR. *L*)
[Rafael Durante] “Man, no won’er Twister be telling us to head this way, all’a y’all need your frickin’ heads examined or something.”
It comes out sounding like a harsh indictment of the situation, of its members, but it is not meant to be taken that way, not really. Not in the wake of what she herself has said.
Rafi reaches out a hand to bang the palm against a street lamp, the resulting sound a harsh slap rather than a twang. He promptly wipes off his hand on the seat of those god awful shorts, then extends his arms out in front of him, folds his fingers together and pops his knuckles. The sound is lost under an afterthought of explosives.
[Danny Jones] She nods with a lopsided grin. She takes his comment the way he means it, not necessarily the way other’s would hear it. She said far worse about the members an’ her self in the past few minutes.
“Yeah. Everytime I try to get my voice heard, an get shit point in the right direction, I got yelled at that I ain’t do it right, that I ain’t a dox. I got my shit silenced until I tell that story of failure because they ain’t like what I said – because I say the truth, an try to make them see what they need to, ya know? But I question too much, they say. I question too much be a judge. Then I realize ya know – they’s fuckin right.”
“Course, i gots background what made it pretty clear I wasn’t supposed to be ‘dox anyway, so this skin, this moon, it feels right. I feel more like me then ever. An’ I ain’t intent on stopping my questioning of the idiots neither.”
[Rafael Durante] “Good.”
It comes without pause, as if she’s said what he’d wanted to hear, and then Rafi is banishing his wandering hands back into the depths of his pockets, entertains himself by waving his elbows around instead. There is nothing to kick, nothing to jump at at any rate, and they are rounding the corner to head back to the house where a mother prepares for bed, where a daughter has been sent to sleep already. A lover, a brother, will be along shortly, will be finishing his shift and heading home within a few hours, finishing up a horrid overtime shift required of him as a new member of the company. Rafi had given him a good, long ribbing before four o’clock rolled around, promised to drink lots of beer in his absence. Lots of beer had been consumed, and with nothing to show for it: Rafi remains as steady on his feet as ever despite the sheer volume of alcohol poured into his little body.
“You keep them fuckers on their toes.”
[Danny Jones] She grins and nods. She ain’t say nothin bout the way he fidgets, because she does the same to a certain extent. Not quite as bad as he does, but bad enough. If she weren’t banged up still, she’d be bouncing along just as much.
An’ she drank a very LIMITED amount of beer. last time she drank in any kind of extensive amount, she ended up with a fuckin tattoo. On her ass. That makes Santi snort every time he sees it.
But she makes that turn toward home with a lightened step. That she has a ‘home’ to return too, makes a whole world of wrongs finally feel right. “I intend too. Everyone else, they like.. fuckin scared to say shit. But that’s what gets us all into some sorta apathy, right? When folks stop worryin bout the war, and worry bout interior politics n shit instead. Me, I’d rather fight fifteen thousand pigs then put up with stupid fuckin politickin.”
[Rafael Durante] “The fuckin’ politickin’ ain’t going anywhere. E’ryplace you got a group of people there gotta be a pecking order, yeah, and any time you got a pecking order there gonna be politics. Ain’t nothing you can do but do what you gotta do and not worry ’bout what them pendejos are doing. Get the ones who ain’t got their heads in their culos to listen to you and fuck the rest, yeah?”
There are very few lights on in their half of the house, the Durantes’ that is; there is one lone light shining in the front window, left on for whoever came through the door first. Nothing in the side or second story windows. The other half of the house is another story, there are lights on and bodies filtering in and out the front door, sitting on the porch, attempting to be quiet given the fact that That Guy lives there, that That Guy will come over and kick someone’s ass if they wake up his daughter.
It’s happened before. They don’t want it to happen again.
[Danny Jones] And now that guy, his brother has That Girl stayin there too, and she can be just as angry as That Guy, and they just ain’t wanna risk it.
Girls are mean.
She nods, and chuckles. “Yeah. S’what I aim to do. An got you boys now to slap a gag on me when I need it, cuz I admit to sometimes needin it, sure.” Like now, where she automatically lowers her voice as they move up to the porch. He pauses to have a last cigarette before going in, and she lets herself in to kick off her boots and move through the house quietly. By the time Rafi comes in, there’s a midnight snack waiting for him, matching the one she made for herself and Santi, who comes in not to long after. She passes the sandwich off to Rafi as he passes by to go up to sleep, and waits for Santiago to join her before she enjoys her own, sharing a sliced apple dipped in peanut butter for desert.
She cleans up after them all, and then tucks her hand into Santi’s like she’s done many nights before, and hopes to do many nights after. And with soft conversation that fades to conversation without words, sne and Santiago make it into his room, his small bed, and finally to sleep, wrapped around each other as if they’ll forget how to wake if not for comfortable pressure of limbs and hearts beating in tandem. It’s the little things that make a home. And the most important thing is the people she shares it with.
And funny enough, the fireworks don’t keep them awake at all, despite Rafael’s grumbling.