Maija | Foot in Mouth Disease

He made his way down the street toward the apartment complex that Maija was staying in. He didn’t know which one but he could wait. He could at least stay with Roxanne even if he’d mess up her clean apartment with his current state of funk.

He rubbed the water off of his face even though more just came on. He blinked his eyes as rain drops hit his face. He looked up at the apartment building from across the street.*

…and hesitates.
(..shit…)

Her footsteps are quiet, the beat to hell boots making nary a sound other then the slightest of splashes, and when she finally reaches the stoop, her hand on the door handle, she… sighs again making some kind of decision before she lifts her slushy in his direction. “Come on, n’get outa the rain.”

*He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the talen Joss made.* “Here. It’s a spiritual talen. It holds the spirit of a sparrow. If you get into trouble, break it. It will release the sparrow and it will come to me. I will know you are in danger and I will do my best to find you.” *He holds it out for her to take.*

“Ain’t the worst it’s seen, trust me. Come on, we’ll get in outa the rain. Kin wash up n shit too, if ya like. I’ll take that up there – but my hands is kinda full, and ain’t wanna break it. So come on…”

She wrestles the door open, and nods for him to join her as she starts the climb to the 5th floor.

“Ain’t nothin t’worry bout. Cept th’landlady, who has a fondness for fine young men such as yerself. Best get ya ass up here before she kidnaps ya. Ain’t no tellin what she’d do to ya in her lair…”

Another beat, another look. “Yeh got my permission, an I fuck th’owner. Come on.”

He heads inside the building dripping wet leaving little wet boot prints as he goes.*

She heads inside, and gestures for him to follow her, as she drops the keys on the little table by the door and moves into the kitchen. “there’s a laundry room in here. Kin get ya out of them wet clothes and get’em washed up for ya if ya want. S’a bathroom down the hall. If ya want a shower I getcha some clean towels too.”

A pause, and she glances at him. “Want somethin’ t’eat? I got dogs n nachos, some chips too. Ain’t in my nature t’eat in front a someone.”

Is she avoiding talking about before for the moment – you betcha.

*Normally he’s a proud Fenrir warrior, he would refuse at least two times, and if she offered the third time he would accept, only then. Today though he was just tired and fuckin’ hungry.

He nodded to her.* “Yes. Thank you for your kindness.” *He said in a low voice, ashamed to be taking such liberties with a kin and a home that wasn’t his own, but stomachs and aching muscles have a way of overriding firm moral behavior.*

“Set ya shit down, then. Ain’t nothin that can’t be washed up again – I done bled all over this place a few weeks ago.” She pushes a second chair out with her foot, kicks her boots and the dirty socks under the table, then starts unloading the food and dividing it up between them, opening the bag of chips, and setting it in the middle of the two chairs. She stands and gets a glass, and even portions out part of her slushie to set on his side.

“This may sound… improper what I say next. It’s not, just… I don’t wanna mess up the chair so if I took off my pants and my shirt would you be offended if I ate in my boxers? They’re damp but they’re clean.” *He says looking at her.*

The last is said with a tug a the corner of her lips – amusement – as she waits for him to strip down, and hand her his clothing.

He’s still got the back tattoo, and the chest scars that Joss saw, but his legs are strong, more so then his upper body in a lot of ways from all the walking he does. His body is well-defined and hard edges of that of a teenage boy who takes his working out seriously, and in addition to all the manual labor he does. A good diet of healthy food doesn’t hurt either.

He rings out his jeans in the sink, and runs the tap to wash away the nasty rain water down the drain. He passes by Maija and stops.* “Ah where’s the laundry room?”

Then she sits at the table, on foot hooked on the edge of the chair, knee pressed to her chest as she digs into one of the hot dogs. She’s thin – incredibly so – and it’s impossible not to wonder where she puts all the food she eats, where it all goes. Blessing – or curse – of a high metabolism, and a propensity to walk everywhere.

Aside from the laundry room, the apartment is typical – other than the fact that one whole wall of the living room is covered in books on shelves. There’s piles of books everywhere, too. Apparently, William is a reader, and Maija is not kidding when she jokes she once fucked a guy to get into his library. It’s a readers heaven, with a little bit of everything in easy reach. The apartment itself is very much bachelor chic. Nothing outlandish at all.

But for the gnawer kin who currently resides there, that is.

He heads into the laundry room and puts his dirty clothes in the washer. He can also sink wash his boxers later. He grew up washing clothes by hand anyway, what’s one pair of boxers?

He does know how to work a washing machine though, and in no time it’s running. He comes back out to the kitchen and washes his hands with some soap in the still running tap. He finds a cup and then pours himself a glass of water with ice.

He makes his way over to the table sits down. He nods to her politely.* “Thank you for sharing your food with me.” *He says genuinely grateful.* “I will not forget this kindness.” *He starts to eat slowly making sure he savors every bite, not to rush even though his stomach is screaming for him to do so.

He’s not very talkative, in fact he’s not really saying anything. Just eating and enjoying his food, and being out of the cold rain.*

Then, for a while, it’s quiet but for the crunch of chips, the slurp of slurpies, the munch of dogs n’ nachos. Only when the first grumbles of their bellies have subsided, only when they’ve enough food in them that they won’t disappear of starvation anytime soon, only then does she look over at him again, glancing at him, then away once more.

“So. You was sayin?” before they came in out of the rain, presumably.

“Excuse me.” *He heads into the laundry room to put the clothes in the dryer. Shouldn’t take longer then 20 or 30 minutes on low heat. He heads back into to the table to sit down. When he does her rolls his head around his shoulders, and exhales from the stiffness that has built up in his muscles.*

She doesn’t look at him while she talks. She instead watches her fingers slide the slushy container back and forth before she lifts it to take a drunk. “I still shouldn’t a gone off on ya though. Ya ain’t know nuthin bout that.”

*He looks at the table.* “I am sorry about your friend. Losing all your family is… a very hard thing to overcome.” *He says like someone who has personal experience with such things.*

*He stands up.* “I should shower and then change over. My clothes should be dry by then and I’ll be on my way.”

“Yeah, alright. Second door on the left.” She doesn’t say that he doesn’t have to go- he’s pretty hell bent on leaving, he was before he even came up. So she just leaves it be.

He checks his clothes and they’re dry and warm. He gets out a new pair of boxers from his pack, and heads back into the bathroom to change over in some dry clothes. When he comes back out he says.* “If I could use a mop and a bucket I’ll get up this water and get out of your hair.” *He says politely.*

When he asks, she just points to the laundry room “Behind the door.” and lets him see to it. She knows how she is when she’s determined to fix something – so doesn’t get in his way.

She sets her book aside, and follows him to the door, so that she can lock it after he goes. She takes no chances now, not anymore. She does hesitate though – and studies him a long moment. “Ya know ya ain’t gotta head back out there, right? I done said you was welcome t’stay a while.”

*He exhales, and stands there for a moment.* “I can stay for a bit… But I can’t sleep here.”

She shuts the door – with him still inside, and heads back to the couch. “Ain’t forcin ya either way. But I got a shit ton a books, movies, an’ who th’hell knows where Will is anyway. Sounds like ya had a shit day. Take a load off.”

“and what do yeh usually do?”

She smirks, briefly. “Not even any time for fuckin. Sad existence indeed.”

“As to the latter. I wouldn’t have first hand experience of that so… I wouldn’t know what I’m missing anyway.” *He shrugged and smiled a bit.*

Yeah, whatever he said before that disappeared with that little revelation. Never in a million years would she think one of the blood wouldn’t simply take what they wanted. It’s what they did – what she knew. All cept Ryan, who had every chance, but treated her with respect. He also had 4 kids, so…. “Th’ fuck kinda garou is ya?”

He doesn’t say anything at first.* “The Litany teaches us respect for… those… we protect because all are of Gaia.” *He swallows* “To take that which is not… freely offered, either by guile or by… other means is the same as taking it by force… I cannot… ” *He grunts a bit, and he blinks, his jaw clinches a little… He steadies his breathing, and exhales.* “I will not use deception… other abilities or force to satisfy my lust. I would not bring pain upon a woman for a lifetime to satisfy myself for a moment. If I did that I would not be worth the birthright I have now. I would be a shame to my mother, and my grandmother. If I did that their lives would be worthless because as of this moment I am the whole reason they have existed at all.” *He says in a low voice, of genuine belief and conviction in what he says.*

Her brows furrow, and she struggles to find the right words. “Look. what I said before – bout what I left behind. That’s the only kinda garou I done known before. Until Ryan, ain’t been a single one o ya fucker what ain’t want somethin from me. I ain’t….” She pauses again, and huffs a frustrated breath. “I mean, who knew ya all was so fuckin’ sensitive? I musta missed that class when I was havin my ribs broked, an’ my head kicked in… an if I thought ya was gonna do that, I wouldn’t a told ya ya could stay.”

She didn’t mean it that way, and a normal person might not take it that way. But even though Marcus was a claith philodox of the Fenrir he was still a 17 year young man who’d just recently lost his grandmother. The last of his family left in the world, and a month before he left the home of his people because… well he wasn’t good enough for them either because of his mother’s ethnic stock. Including his altercation with Sam tonight… It just wasn’t a good day for him.

He reachs down to but on his boots again.* “I’m sorry you have suffered. It shouldn’t have.” *He grunts putting on a wet boot.* “Been that way. Garou are not.. perfect… Neither is our…” *He puts on the other one.* “Culture. There have been a lot of wrongs committed in the name of Gaia throughout the centuries. But that’s still no excuse for what happened to you.” He quickly puts on his rain pants, and then his top.*

“Thank you for sharing your home… I have to go now.” *He slings his pack up on his shoulders, and his face is stoic, not moving or twitching by sheer willpower at this point, but he’s crying, tears are starting to run down his cheeks and he’s doing all he can to get out of there as quickly as possible with some shred of dignity left.*

And then she just drops her hand and sighs. “It ain’t nuthin’ against ya… an’ clearly I should learn t’be more fuckin sensitive myself.” A huffed breath, and a snort. But she just sits back down, and doesn’t say anything else.

Some days it jus’ ain’t pay to get outa bed.