[Terrin Smythe] hello
to Danny Jones
[Danny Jones] (Hiya)
to Terrin Smythe
[Terrin Smythe] wanna play?
to Danny Jones
[Danny Jones] I’m actually waiting on two other people for a scene in a few, but I’d be happy to hook up with ya later!)
to Terrin Smythe
[Danny Jones] (123 not me! hahahaH!)
[Jon Blacksnake] ((Not me either))
[Rafael Durante] ((You can’t 123 when I’m not even in the ROOM!))
[Jon Blacksnake] ((*g* You were in when I posted. :) ))
[Danny Jones] (Can too! *L*)
[Danny Jones] ((Shaddup and post. you KNOW you prefer to set up scene rather then close it. *grin*))
[Rafael Durante] ((Let the record show that Lessa is a CHEETER))
[Danny Jones] ((hahahah!))
[Rafael Durante] A pack without territory is a sorry sight. Up until recently, this particular pack has been fractured, has not seen its entirety in the same half of the country, let alone the same town. Even now, with all three arrived, they have not settled. One might think Cabrini, where Mama Isabel and company had chosen to live, would be a convenient claim; one would think that, until the glyphs are sighted, until it becomes obvious that another pack has staked out a good chunk of the area. It makes Rafael slightly uneasy, knowing that his family is not far from the patrolled streets of a pack that does not even belong to the Sept, a pack that had not been at the first moot, that he knows absolutely nothing about. All he can do is deduce, and that deduction has let him to believe that they ought to set down roots elsewhere.
So here they are, Jon and he, strolling through Lake Meadows Park, across the street from the hospital, heading south along the railroad tracks. Overhead the moon is beginning to push itself back into sight, looking miniscule in the humid air, more visible here than further north, than downtown. Downtown is a mass of sound and noise pollution; most nights cloud cover prevents the moon from being spied. Here, though, away from the nucleus of the city… there are stars, there is the waxing crescent moon, there are the smells of the lake, the far off sound of South Lake Shore Drive rushing past.
Rafael is dressed for the weather for once in his life, and it is a ridiculous outfit he has on: black high-top Converses, plaid cargo shorts, down past his kneecaps, the most hideous shorts one is likely to lay eyes on. His legs are twigs, every muscle readily visible beneath the dark skin and the natch of hair. A black t-shirt with The Ramones printed across the front is in place of his sweatshirt. While others sweat, he is in his element, he is highly enjoying this turn of temperature, and both of his hands are in his pockets, not a cigarette to be found.
It looks for a moment as if he is going to speak. He belches instead.
[Jon Blacksnake] A tall man walks at the side of Rafe, dressed about equally well for the weather. Having eschewed the long duster to which he is prone, his muscular arms are revealed by the sleeveless shirt of midnight blue that clings with a slight sheen of sweat to his chest. The collar had seen better days, and the fabric was well worn, but at one time, the shirt had been nearly respectable.
Dark jeans became black in the mere glimmers cast by the moon of his auspice, and when those glimmers did catch his eye, a gaze that seemed to strip one bare before it was revealed within the strong features. The Harley Davidson boots cut a calm and patient clip upon the ground as they walked, the sound of a man in no apparent hurry.
Beyond that, little could be seen in the night. The sheath of a long dagger at his belt, the haft of some other weapon protruding slightly from the untucked hem of the shirt, and the twinned black vipers coiling around his forearms… Fangs barred wide, as though ready to strike between his thumb and forefinger.
[Danny Jones] This ain’t her normal area of town, exactly, but that ain’t stop her from walking wherever she damn well pleases, as always. Not like anyone’s been claiming anything round here yet, and there might be a possibility that she might have a part of it if an’ when it happens anyway.
What bronzeville has, however, is a few mussed up messed up really bad fast food joints on every corner, with folks inside willing to make trades for various things. Which means that Danny is perched on a trashcan in the park, as per usual, and munching on a pizza direct out of a box. The box – large, of course – is balanced on her knees, and her feet are pulled up under her criss cross applesauce. The little Gnawer on a new (temporary?) throne.
It don’t take long for her take notice of the two men walking toward her. One stands out because she knows him well, the other because he is tall and strikes a resemblance of what Rafi said he’d look like.
She swallows the bite in her mouth, puts her fingers to her lips, and lets out a wolf whistle their direction to gain their attention. Her attention is then split – between them, and her pizza. “Hola, papi!” And that, my friends is mostly the extent of her Spanish.
[Rafael Durante] As if tugged by a string, Rafael’s head turns in the direction of the two piercing notes. Spying the only Garou he has yet to meet who is actually shorter than his laughable five and a half feet of height, a broad grin flashes across his face and he reaches up to tap Jon’s upper arm with the back of his hand.
“I know this little punk, lez go say ‘hi’.”
Veering right, deviating from their previously straight course, Rafael walks slowly for approximately five seconds before breaking into a trot, scurrying across the distance while his shoes kick up grass. At ten feet from the trash can he ceases his rapid approach, and he says, “Call me papí one more time and I throttle you. Hell you doing out here?”
A hand darts out to steal a piece of pepperoni from the melted face of the pizza.
“See that tall drink’a agua? Thaz Jon, I introduce you when he gets his slow ass over here.”
He’s in remarkably good spirits this evening, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet and smiling while he chews on the slice of salami he’d made off with.
[Jon Blacksnake] While Rafe trots ahead, Jon’s pace is unchanged, though his course alters to match Rafe’s almost exactly. Those eyes move, almost constantly, as though they would drink in the world…
Then, as he comes within distance where he could speak without needing to yell past anyone and anything in between, his mouth curves up in the merest hint of a smile.
“Who is your friend?”
The question was directed at Rafe, but Jon’s eyes remained focused on Danny…
[Jon Blacksnake] ((Sorry; had a phone call. Back now.))
to Danny Jones, Rafael Durante
[Danny Jones] She swats at Rafi’s hand and blinks “Why, is papi bad?” Innocent of course. She grins and opens the box farther so he can get his own piece of pizza – which is still warm, which means it’s fresh, which means holy cow she’s not eating refuse for the moment and thank goodness for that, huh? And she shares. Her Mama raise her right, dig? “Gotta friend transferred to the Pizza Hut near here – he gives free pie.” Of course it’d be food that drags her ass out this way. He can’t possibly be surprised.
She looks over Jon with a slow grin as she licks sauce from her fingertips. “Cool, cool. He is one tall sumbitch, ain’t he?” Rafi never lets her live down that she’s like the only Garou he’s ever met that’s shorter and skinnier then he is. All of an inch or two and bout 10 pounds, but who’s counting. You’d think she’d have some padding somewhere, with all she eats – damn that high metabolism she’s got – or love it, as the case may be.
Danny, of course, is dressed for the weather too. Beat up cargo pants, and a tank top – purple, of course, with sparkly glitter that spells out “princess”. At one end are the boots, and on the other is that fantasticly two-toned hair – red and tenacious teal, as always – spiked up into 15 different kinds of awesome. On her back a battered canvas pack, covered with indy band patches, old school, and little added Sharpie pen decorations of various colors. The most amusing “BeeGees kick ass” which is cause for much ridicule – band or tribe. Inside the pack is everything she owns.
Literally.
Around her neck is her only piece of jewelry – a vending machine ring, golden, threaded through a leather string. She wears it to drive Rafi nuts, same as the reason it was bought too. Sentimental reasons, dig?
“Hiya.” she says, as Jon comes up close enough. She offers him the box of pizza with a grin. Better get’um while they last and all that.
[Rafael Durante] “Why, is papi bad?”
“Yeah. I ain’t your man. You wanna call Santi your papí you go right ahead. Doan call me that, that’s just nasty. Oh. And while I’m giving you Mexican–” He pronounces it MEH-hee-can. “–culture lessons, never refer to a mexicano’s mother as ‘tu madre.’ That’ll get your ass beat up, thaz like short for ‘fuck your mother.’ ‘Mama.’. You say ‘tu mama.’”
He speaks very rapidly, enunciates quite well for someone whose English is so shoddy, and by the time Jon arrives at the scene they have settled that and the matter of what in the blue blazes a little thing like Danny is doing in this section of town. Not that he has any rightful reason to worry about her being able to take care of herself, but for the love of Gaia, she’s almost young enough to be his daughter.
(Well, not really, not unless he got started really damn early, but you know.)
“Who is your friend?” Jon asks, and Rafael turns to regard him with a friendly enough grin.
“Jon, this is Danny Jones, she’s Family.” He pronounces it HO-neyz, the way one properly pronounces cojones. “Danny, this is Jon Blacksnake, my main man. Do not be fooled by his charming smile, he is up to no good.”
[Rafael Durante] ((::runs off to smoke::))
[Jon Blacksnake] “You lie, Rafe. I am many things; charming is one I am not.”
Still, the ghostly smile remains, the sole sign of mirth in the otherwise stern expression. A hand reaches for a piece of the pizza as he speaks, though for a time Jon’s eyes still remain on Danny. To Rafe, or any other packmate who introduced someone as a friend, this behavior is hardly novel. However, it might seem strange to someone who did not know him.
It was like he was staring into the eyes to see the soul, to better judge with whom he dealt.
“It is nice to meet you, Danny.”
The speech is perfect, without accent. As though it was a language taught early enough in life to be fluent and learn the grammar, but also as though it wasn’t the language with which he was most comfortable.
[Danny Jones] “Ooooh…” She takes all that in, and nods. “Stantiago is Papi, and yer just Rafi. And Mama is tu Mama, not the other. Gotcha. Oh! Hey, ya never said what it was ya called me last time meant neither one of ya… what was it…” A pause, while she goes through the whole conversation of the last time… “Oh! Novia. Wassat?” Street Spanish 101.
She grins up at Jon, even as she rolls her eyes. “Jones. Not ho-nez. Though we all know he’s hopin his brother makes an honest woman outa me so’s I’d have a proper name like Durante or some shit like that.” Lean away from the swipe coming her way, there… “Nice to meetcha. And if ya with Rafi of COURSE ya up to no good – Rafi’s always in trouble.” A long-suffering – mock – sigh. “Always savin his ass, I am.”
She ain’t got no proper english, her. Not much proper schoolin neither. Course, Danny ain’t much of a proper gal, anyway. She is – of course – completely unrepentant, and thus a heck of a lotta fun. And, it should be noted that she doesn’t flinch away from that gaze either. Simply lets him look – her eyes, her soul, a total open book.
[Rafael Durante] ((Back!))
[Rafael Durante] As the two speak, Rafael edges closer to the pizza, nabbing a slice and accidentally-on-purpose jabbing the Gnawer girl in the side as she tells his packmate she is always “savin’ his ass.” Surprisingly, so far, he has done a fairly good job of keeping his neck out of firing range and his ass out of harm’s way. So far. How long that would keep up, what with him keeping the company that he keeps, is anyone’s guess. Where he and Brodie have gone in the past has tended to land the two into some scraps, what with the two of them perpetually flapping their gums and all.
One might imagine Rafael getting said ass handed to him as the result of his mouth running so often, but Jon’s seen him handle himself in the past. He’s small, but he doesn’t fight fair, this one doesn’t.
“Yeah, more like you always lighting a fire under my ass.” Rafael takes a large bite out of his slice of pizza and adds, “She corrupting my baby brother, Juan. Turning him away from the loving arms of the Lord.”
Chomp.
[Jon Blacksnake] Satisfied, not… Jon made no sign. However, his eyes left Danny and moved to the pizza slice as he answers Danny.
“That sounds like Rafe. No good is his business.
That is one reason we like him so well.”
Then, after a bite of pizza, chewed quietly with his mouth closed, Jon answers Rafael.
“Other gods held sway on this very land before the Lord’s word was spread here. Some prefer alternatives to salvation.”
In that instant, Jon seemed more relic than Garou, his words seeming carried upon winds from the past…
[Danny Jones] She ooomphs with the well placed elbow jab, and her grin is completely unrepentant. Especially when he avoids the question again (Making her oh so suspicious, so much so she resolves to ask Chris or Santi what the hell it means). Of course, the last statement has her snorting so loud she almost snorts up that last bit of pizza she ate. “Oh yeah, I’m curruptin’ Santi… that’s what it is. I been celibate two years afore ya hotstuff brother came along slingin them sweet words and shakin that ass…”
And then she openly gapes at Jon’s comment. Silence even falls. One minute. Two. “Damn… that’s deep, brothah Jon.”
[Rafael Durante] As Danny goes on about her previously dessicated sex life, Rafael rolls his eyes, leaves what’s left of his pizza hanging from between his teeth, and makes a blah blah blah motion with his left hand. Then Jon is offering up his expertly-played response to the knock at Christianity, and he grins around his pizza before tearing it free and chewing slowly.
With his mouth open.
“Yeah, an’ my people used to worship the sun, look where that got us. Conquistados.”
[Jon Blacksnake] “It is nonetheless true. The beliefs of people are just like those people. Some are similar, but no two are exactly the same.”
Another bite of pizza, chewed, and swallowed before Jon continues.
“They should have fought harder.”
Strangely though, Jon doesn’t seem to put any emphasis in it… As though he knows that statement could be equally applied to his own ancestors. Yet his sorrow at perceived wrongs buried in history does not show upon his face.
He might as well have said the sky is blue, for all of the emotion one might try to read from his demeanor.
[Jon Blacksnake] ((I gotta go next post))
to Danny Jones, Rafael Durante
[Danny Jones] She sticks her tongue out at Rafi, with a grin. Clearly she’s fond of the bigger man. And not just because she’s doin his brother. He always forgets that it was HIS idea…. but that’s allright. Danny’ll remind him. Often. Loudly.
She watches the two of them play at words with each other and then she just has to know. “So, Jon… how on earth did a quiet guy like you hook up with Rafi an Brodie, the two loudest holligans I ever DID see…? NOt that I’m knockin it course, cuz I sure ain’t quite by any means. Ever. S’why I’m usually in more trouble then rafi here could ever DREAM of.. he tell ya bout my adventures in the Wyldlands? Smelt like fuckin flowers forEVer…”
[Rafael Durante] They should have fought harder.
Rafael should be up in arms about this, should be calling the taller man names, attempting to set him straight, but he does not do this because there is nothing but truth in the man’s statement. His ancestors did not fight at first, and this is how Catholicism managed to spread throughout Mexico, how the whole damn country was colonized by the Spanish, how the natives were put into slavery. Later generations grew utterly pissed off at the situation, and by turns, they learned to fight; his ancestors, though. They were fucking pacifists.
Funny, that.
“Smelt like fuckin flowers forEVer…”
Another belch, more contained than the one that had been born by the railroad tracks, and Rafael begins gnawing on the crust.
“No joke, ese, she smelled like a fucking Hallmark store.”
[Jon Blacksnake] “They overcompensate for my shortcomings.
I speak little. They speak more. It is an arrangement with which we all seem content.”
That ghostly smile returns, as Jon’s mood adapts to the next question posed him by Danny.
“Rafe can tell you the whole story, if you would like. As for your time in the Wyldlands, you will have to tell me that some other time.”
For a moment, Jon merely looks at Rafe’s eyes, meeting his gaze, before nodding wordlessly. Rafe would know what it meant.
Then, turning back to Danny, Jon speaks again.
“Thank you for the food. I must go now.”
Then, picking up a glass such that only Rafe and Danny can see the deliberate nature of the act, Jon stands and with a sweeping motion that seemed far more coincidental than it was, drops it on the floor. It shatters, leaving a brilliant glass pattern strewn haphazardly about the area. In all, it looked to anybody but Rafe and Danny as though his arm had brushed the glass just enough to wipe it off the table accidentally.
“How clumsy… Forgive me.
Until next we meet, Rafe. Danny.”
With that, Jon stands and starts toward the door, leaving the glass for one of the employees to attend.
[Jon Blacksnake] ((Well, I gotta jet. Work starts in 6 hours. Thanks for the rp; I had a blast. We’ll have to do it again soon. Other than that, see y’all later. *wave* Night!))
to Danny Jones, Kendra Peterman, Rafael Durante
[Danny Jones] ((Night!))
to Jon Blacksnake, Rafael Durante
[Kendra Peterman] (( You two still goin’? :D ))
to Danny Jones, Rafael Durante
[Danny Jones] (Yup, far as I know. We’re just trying to figure out how we mysteriously were transported inside, when we was outside at a park. *L*)
to Kendra Peterman, Rafael Durante
[Rafael Durante] ((*LOL*))
to Danny Jones, Kendra Peterman
[Kendra Peterman] (( *Chuckle* Simply… pretend no mention of the indoors was made? ))
to Danny Jones, Rafael Durante
[Danny Jones] (thats the way we’re leanin. *L*)
to Kendra Peterman, Rafael Durante
[Danny Jones] (Crap! it’s my post isnt’ it? *LMAO* Here i was wondering why Jamie was taking so long. )
[Rafael Durante] ((::headdesk::))
[Danny Jones] She nods as Jon turns to leave, grinning as she plucks the last piece of pizza free from the box and bends over to shove the empty cardboard into the hole of the trashcan she’s still sitting atop of. Legs still crisscross applesauce, she rests her elbows on her knees and takes a bite, chewing contemplatively until the tall figure turns a corner and is gone.
“Seems a nice nuff guy. Seriously quiet. Comparatively speaking, of course.”
[Kendra Peterman] Dog : Canine
Flowers : Flora
Bronzeville : Cesspool
The weeist hour of the morning was at hand, and it was apparent in the way the city stink rose to fill the air from the gutter drains, in the way the sky was light from city electricity yet the city itself was pitch dark with night. Bronzeville was poorly lit, if lit at all in most areas, and along the sidewalk that lined the park that Danny and Rafael happened to be occupying the few street lamps that worked at all did so poorly, and flickered on and off at their own will. By sheer coincidence the three that Kendra had walked under so far had flickered precisely when she neared them, then stopped when she drew away.
Dressed in a tank top with a band under the breasts, then the rest of the fabric beneath left to billow and flow at its own will, she walked on strong legs left bare by her khaki shorts and flip flops that allowed her feet to breathe the summer air, she strode along at a leisurely pace while peering this way and that. Patroling grounds that once were hers, once could have been, and perhaps still were in some way.
[Rafael Durante] Kicking at a piece of glass that had fallen in the grass beside the trash can, Rafael pushes the last bit of pizza crust into his mouth and then plunges his hands into the deep pockets of those hideous plaid shorts and begins rocking from ball to heel, heel to ball, eyes trailing after Jon for a short moment before turning back to his charge.
“Comparatively?” Rafael fixes her with an astonished expression, twisted eyebrows and disbelieving eyes, as if she has said something incredibly absurd. Something must be lost in the translation. “You doan gotta compare him, he is quiet. Santo Cristo, you start runnin’ with us and the poor bastard’s gonna be outnumbered.”
If. There’s an unspoken If, there.
[Danny Jones] There’s an unspoken If and she grins at him with a nod. “Yeah, poor guy. If that happens, I’ll get him a sympathy card, for sure.” She ain’t afraid to say if. She hadn’t expected that she’d be welcomed with open arms right away, anyway – well, ok, there was a tiny bit of hope, but it all rests in their hands, and whether or not she can prove herself to’em.
“And well, he ain’t run away screamin, so that’s a start, huh?” She grins at Rafi, and finishes off her pizza, dusting her hands on her thighs.
[Kendra Peterman] “Well, he ain’t run away screamin’…”
A familiar voice matched with a familiar dialect touched the Fianna’s ears and drew her eyes in the direction of it’s origin. She viewed a park, viewed shadows and bushes and benches, and a pair of figures, one with brilliant red(fuck you fire engine flames) and teal (aquamarine, biatch) hair. Her head tilted to the side a little, and the soft slapping of her flipflops against the bottoms of her feet went quiet when her feet stopped.
“Danny…” She murmered it to herself, grinned a little, then lifted her hand in the air as a wave to gain attention and give greeting. “Danny!” This time it was half-yelled, meant to be heard. Dropping her hand and linking it behind her back with the other, she stepped off the sidewalk to go join Rafael and Danny.
[Rafael Durante] “Yeah, it’s definitely a start. That’s a big ole plus.”
The clapping of shower shoes against cement draws his attention; very few parks in this area of town contain patrons this time of night, save for those curled up on benches, dealing behind bushes, moving through as quickly as his humanly possible. That draws his attention, and then there is a “Danny!” sounding out across the distance.
Rafael turns to look over his shoulder, catches sight of a girl who looks vaguely familiar. His brow scrunches up on itself as his brain attempts to locate the file it has containing this girl’s face, but in the moments between her diversion from the sidewalk and her coming within speaking distance, he finds nothing.
“Who’s that?” he asks, facing Danny now.
[Danny Jones] She grins at Rafi and nods in agreement. He knows how much this’d mean to her, to run with them, to find a place she’s finally at home, that she finally belongs.
Then her name is called, and she looks up, and after a moment lifts a hand to wave back. “S’Kendra Peterman. Fianna with Fury blood. Songster.” It’s all sad under her breath, low enough so it ain’t carry, with something so low that even Rafi has to strain to hear.
But then she’s clearing her gaze, and digging in the pocket of her cargo pants for some bubblishious bubble yum. Watermellon flavor of course – as if there’s another kind! She offers a piece to Rafi, and opens her own, plopping it into her mouth and chewing.
[Danny Jones] Under her breath. “She ‘n me had our problems. Still unresolved. Tell ya later if ya wanna know. Right now we do the glad ya ain’t dead dance and plaster a smile atop it.”
to Rafael Durante
[Kendra Peterman] Kendra was a small girl, made the pair that she was approaching look positively tall and imposing, for she stood a mere 4’11” on her flat feet. Yet, despite this, she had a long-legged and brisk stride, rarely did she ‘stroll’, not even when walking leisurely as she was previously. With a smile parting her lips just enough to show a flash of white teeth, she came to a stop several feet in front of the two.
“Ain’ seen you since Jay-Bee’s truck, Danny Lady. ‘N Beltane, when I think ’bout it. How ya been?”
Her nostrils flared a bit, and her eyes flickered to the trash can that the pizza box had been discarded in. “Heh. Finished th’pizza withou’ me.”
[Rafael Durante] ((I think I’m going to have to scoot soon, I’m so sleepy I’m having trouble forming coherent sentences.))
Beltane. That’s where he’s seen her before.
There is not a terribly large height difference between Danny and Rafael, but such between Kendra and Rafael is pronounced–the man is seven inches taller than her, one of the shorter of the city’s Garou, and given the weariness on his face, the facial hair, he is nowhere near the girls’ ages.
His fashion sense leaves something to be desired. On his feet are black high-top Converses; up top, knee-length plaid shorts and a black Ramones t-shirt.
When he speaks, his voice is tinged with the influence of a Spanish-speaking nation, Mexico if one knows one’s dialects well enough, although this accent is also touched by the Southern United States. Oklahoma, should the previously stated condition be met. It’s an odd combination.
“Yeah, she got a way of doing that.”
[Danny Jones] She snorts and nudges Rafael with an elbow. “Bah – Ya got your fair share! An’ so did ya boy too. Kendra’s just a little on the slow side.” Unrepentant that grin.
“Better then I was then, for sure. Hell, aside from Beltane, s’been months. All my ducks are almost in a row – hopin a few more weeks an everything’ll be fine and dandy. We’ll see how it goes.” She’s certainly better mood now then she was before. Looks can be deceiving, but in this case, with her (stillnew) moon coming closer by the minute, she’s perfectly content. Almost. “How bout you? This’ere’s my bro, Rafael.”
[Kendra Peterman] Her shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug, and her grin broadened a little, brightening the girl’s sunkissed face. This was where her Fury blood showed– in the Medditerranean tan her skin held, in the line of her jaw, in the intensity of her deep green eyes. Fianna though her spirit and tone and life was, it was impossible for her, or anyone who could percieve such things, to deny that this girl did in fact have the strength of the Nation’s Woman Warriors in her blood.
“On’y a lil’ slow, an’ on’y sometimes, ya know.” Her chin lifted up a little to greet Rafael, and she held her hand out for a greeting. “Well t’meet ya, ‘m…” She quieted when Danny mentioned what his name was, and something flickered in her eyes. He smile fell for a second, then tightened. Her throat moved as she swallowed something back, and when she spoke again her tone had changed only slightly. “…Well t’meet ya, Rafe.”
Then after clearing her throat again she looked to Danny once more. “Aw it’s goin’ okay. Lil’ stircrazy, can’t do much’a hogshit nothin’ what I could before, bu’ I’m healthy otherwise.”
[Rafael Durante] Although he can certainly see the reaction on the girl’s face, he can take in the wrenched smile and the swallowing, he doesn’t go so far as to try and figure out what she’s feeling during that moment. He can certainly try and hypothesize what her thought process was, but he lacks the ability to empathize with another, to read emotions the way some people read signs. No, Kendra reacts, and Rafael simply lets it slide.
“Mucho gusto,” he replies as their small hands clasp, as his name is supplied for him, as hers has been already stated.
The two girls exchange pleasantries, and towards the tail end of Kendra’s share, a high-pitched ringing sounds from one of Rafael’s pockets. He frowns, fumbles about for a moment, then realizes it’s coming from his Tracfone. A finger is held up, a request to be excused, and then he breaks away from the two teenagers with a “Háblame.”
Whether they continue talking or not, Rafael carries on a harried conversation in Spanish. It lasts but a few moments, barely even an entire minute, and then he is pushing the phone back to sleep with a thumb.
“I gotta go, Carolina’s sick.” He looks at each girl in turn as she is addressed: “Kendra, very good to meet you. Danny, thanks for the pizza. I talk to you later, huh?”
With that, he’s off at a quick clip, heading north back along the railroad tracks.
[Rafael Durante] ((My forehead’s about to break the keyboard. Thanks for the scene, girlies!))
to Danny Jones, Kendra Peterman
[Kendra Peterman] (( Night ma’am! ))
to Danny Jones, Rafael Durante
[Danny Jones] There’s instant concern. “Hope she’s not too bad – I’ll come by later, if’n Mama ain’t mind.. check in on her…” And Santiago. But she’s clearly concerned about the little girl. They’ve bonded over My Little Pony and Rainbow Brite after all!
Someday soon, she’s gonna help Carolina dye her hair too. If only to see Rafi have a coronary. She nods, and waves with a little grin. “Night, you. Tell mi Papi I call him later for a ride.”
In his cab. honest.
Wicked, that grin, as she watches him head off.
[Danny Jones] (drags’er back to read – I was typing SO FAST…. *L*)
[Danny Jones] (Dies!)
[dammit lessa] ((::types just so i can see this show up in your transcript later::))
[Danny Jones] (bwahahaha!)
[Kendra Peterman] Her eyes follow after the man as he wanders off, and Kendra’s hands slide down her sides (still trim, still curved the way a whalebone corset desires you to be) to come to rest at the loose and flowing hem of her white shirt. Playing with that hem between her fingers, she glanced up toward the sky, eyeballed the thumbnail of a crescent moon in the sky, then returned her gaze to Danny.
“So, lady, whatcha doin’ with yerself anymore? Ya packed wi’h that boy, is ya?”
[Danny Jones] She grins as Rafael, for once, doesn’t have a comeback – though there’s that long line of rapidfire spanish that she will have to learn just to keep her head in the game. Only after the little man is out of sight does she return her gaze to Kendra. She unfolds her legs and lets them hang and bang against the side of the trash can she’s still sitting on top off – the Gnawer Girl and her Throne and all that.
“Ain’t yet, but hopin. I am fuckin his brother though.” Hard to tell if she’s serious, ain’t it. Her fingers lift to play with the golden wedding band worn around her neck. Interesting…
“Met his alpha tonight. Think it went well, short and sweet an’ all that. Runnin on my own for the time being, again. Ain’t gonna be forced in with idiots again like the past what, three times? Got my standing back, my moon on tight, an’ just gonna take it one step at a time. Rafi, Santiago and Mama Isabel an’ Carolina. Bein with them feels like comin home.”
[Kendra Peterman] A soft and whistful smile touched the girl’s face as Danny spoke, and she remained standing with her fingers dancing lightly over the loose hem of her shirt (is that a pregnancy shirt she’s wearing? or is that just the style nowadays?). She watched Danny hop onto the trash can, and peered after the small Mexican man as he walked away when mention of his brother and the fucking that was occuring was made.
“…Ah, yeah. Tha’s th’feelin’ ya hunt for, home. S’when ya know tha’ a pack’s meant t’be a pack. Y’see too many kids nowadays makin’ packs in haste, makin’ ’em for politics ‘n shit, not for th’family feelin’ tha’ a pack oughta be based upon.” Wasn’t this just the girl that knew all about that?
[Danny Jones] “Yeah, been stuck with too many fucking dickheads. Ain’t gonna do that no more.” She don’t name names, but it ain’t too hard to figure out who she means first and foremost. “Nice to have a Mama around too. Rafe’s Mama, Isabel, she’s the best cook EVER… Makes me miss Mama Anne an’ my boys back home somethin fierce, but it’s nice at the same time. Theys the reason I stayed instead a jus’ goin home.”
Nods, and then she turns to study Kendra, and arches a brow. “An’ I swear to god, I ain’t gonna fuckin drink the water in this shithole town – you too?” That’d be a pointed look at that belly under that obvious lil shirt…
[Kendra Peterman] Her eyes fell to the shirt, and the grin on her face turned a touch… modest? Naw, naw, she’s just trying not to laugh out loud.
“Don’ ya be drinkin’ no water then. An’ use yer protection too! Chrissakes, me ‘n Joe miss th’condom once an’ Gaia laughs, points, ‘n says ‘Lo ‘n Beholdeth, Kendra’s blood be true to Joseph’s and together they shall breed!'” Shaking her head a little, she sighed and rolled her shoulders. “Ain’ too happy ’bout it, t’be honest. Put me in a right state. But hey, what can ya do, ‘eh? I’ma have a baby, best get used to it.”
[Danny Jones] “Chris, me an’ Santi we ain’t never gonna miss not never not once…” She shakes her head. “Seems everyfuckinbody done catchin what I ain’t wanna catch at all.”
Blink, and a slight chuckle. “I mean, congrats. n shit.”
Yeah, that’s the ticket. She just shakes her head again, running her fingers through her hair to make sure it’s properly spiked up and all.
[Kendra Peterman] Her shoulders rolled in another mildly dismissive shrug.
“Meh. Joe’s more happy ’bout it than I am, really. Congatulate him, he’s th’one what got it in the first shot.” It was her turn to chuckle now, and she did so with a very bright, very Kendra-esque smile. “It’s gonna be alrigh’… I mean, wi’h my Rage th’baby ain’ gonna wanna have shit t’do wi’h me…. Bleedin’ ‘Eart, she wan’s me t’find a nursin’ Kinfolk t’feed m’baby, but…” Here, the very Rage she spoke of spiked, and Danny could certainly feel it. It’s grown in heat and strength since the girl first arrived in this city.
“…Bu’ I’d sooner tear a girl’s throat straight from her neck than see any child’a mine on her breast.” Her upper lip curled, slightly, and she grunted. “Anyway, Joe’s a daddy. He knows ’bout child rearin’, he’ll be a fine dad.”
[Danny Jones] She snorts. “Shit, it’s two thousand fuckin seven… they make fuckin baby formula for a reason – ain’t no reason we ain’t able to use that shit too.” She waves a hand, and shrugs agian, slightly.
“Rafi’s lil girl’s older – his Mama an’ Santi raise her mostly, but his rage ain’t too high an’ she’s old nuff to understand n’shit now. She likes my lil pony’s. An’ Rainbow Brite.” in other words, Danny an’ Carolina get along just fine.
Danny’s rage, however, ain’t so small as it used to be neither. The fuckin emotional rollercoaster she’s been on the past few months have had her fit to be tied more then once. That shit makes things roil toil boil n bubble for sure. Then it clicks… “Joe – with the fancy ice cream..?”
[Kendra Peterman] She smiled a little more to hear the tale of Rafael and his family. It sounded as though Danny was quiet at home with this group. She had a lover, she had a brother, she had a Mama and a little sister. She had family, she had home. Good for her.
“…Fancy ice cream..?”
Gellato.
“Ah! Yeah. Joseph Morgan, th’grumpy ass one with th’long hair? Black Fury kin? Tha’s him.” Then her head tilted to the side a little. “Why-come?”
[Danny Jones] Family. Home. Boyfriend included. An’ she ain’t moonin all over the Capt’n. A year’s long enough to wait, and several months of family helps ease the pain for sure.
“Huh?” Blink, then. “Oh! No reason, jus’ puttin a name to the face to the doer of the big deed.” She grins and shrugs. “He bought me ice cream once. That fancy shit. Was good. You know me – feed me once an’ I’ll never forget ya face or name…”
[Kendra Peterman] She chuckled a little and nodded. “Ain’ that the truth…” A touch of silence here, a shifting of her weight on her feet there, then she shrugged. “I’unno, I guess it’s jus’ tha’ most nobody don’ like Joe, tha’s all. Seekin’ some form of approval maybe.”
Another shrug. “No’ that no’un likin’ him’s changin’ my mind. Joe’s mine. Was b’fore I even knew he was t’be th’baby daddy, y’know? Jus’…. yeah.” Here, a sheepish smile. “Folks says he’s too old, I’m too young, ‘n I guess s’true, bu’ hey! I’m ol’ ‘nough t’be fightin’ wars, ‘m an adult in th’eyes of th’Nation, so there ain’ no flippin’ ’round to my bein’ ‘too young’ after tha’s put to consideration.” Was she babbling? A little bit.
[Danny Jones] Snorts. “I got nuff shit bout my hopin bout the capt’n – and far too mucha folks tellin me I was just a child when his fuckin wife showed back up in town. I ain’t gonna tell no one shit all anythin about who they fuck an’ who they cain’t. Ain’t none o’my business long as ya followin the rules – an’ fuck, even then, I ain’t a fuckin judge no more anyway.”
And ain’t no one feel better bout that then herself. She looks up, where the sun blazed so hot earlier, where the moon is ever darkening and tugging at her heartstrings, soulstrings. Almost there. The Dark Moon. Tricksters Moon. Questioner’s Moon.
Her Moon.
She grins a little, and shrugs as she looks back down. “Ain’t my place to approve or disapprove.”
[Danny Jones] This time, anyway.
[Kendra Peterman] And once again, Kendra smiled.
She reached down and clapped a hand down on the Gnawabash’s shoulder. “S’one’a th’reasons why I like ya Danny. …’N I never got t’tell you congratulations. ‘M proud’a ya fer havin’ th’guts t’switch t’what feels right, fer followin’ yer heart ‘n spirit withou’ carin’ wha’ no’un says ’boutcha. Ya’s a good Dark Moon girl.”
Her eyes shifted to the trash can. “Next time I’ll share a pizza wi’h you ‘n Rafe. Hear there’s one’a my boys in tha’ pack of his, a Fianna, ‘m eager t’meet th’musclebound oaf. ‘N when I have th’baby shower, I’ll make it an all ya can eat jus’ for you Danny-girl.” Her hand moved from the girl’s shoulder up to her ear under the red-blue spikes, gave the lobe a squeeze, and turned to depart.
“I’ll see ya ’round.”
[Danny Jones] She grins a lil and wiggles her brows. “An I can say for sure all mah milkshake brings all the boys to the yard – nekid in the moonlight an’ everyon fuckin boy I ever met was there, I swear…”
She nods with a grin. “Brodie. He’s awesome. Loudmouth n’womanizing an’ all around fun to be around. Can’t hold his liquor worth shit, though. Not that I kin talk.”
A little wave, and she hops down off the can and turns the other direction, pulling out her phone (with the pink Hello Kitty cover) from her pocket and making that call. Yellow Cab – free rides, it’s another benefit of doin a Durante…
[Kendra Peterman] (( Seeya! :D ))
to Danny Jones
[Danny Jones] (Hastapasta!)
to Kendra Peterman