[Maija] The envelope had contained a short note, in handwriting that’s as messy as her sketches are good. “Another job opportunity, and my own place, at last. If ya want: Bronzeville. 5608 S. Racine Ave. Bus stop right on the corner. Look for the Family BBQ place midblock – that’s the new job. I still owe you dinner. -M”
Simple, to the point, and more info than she would have given anyone else, most likely. Fortunately, no one else asked, so did not have to be snubbed.
Yesterday – the 4th of July – saw the tiny restaurant SLAMMED with families coming for the special BBQ specials run all damn day. They’d actually taken over the empty lot next on the other side of Maija’s building, set up tables, chairs, and brought in extra Grills and the like, and everyone was on hand for the biggest celebration the little family place has seen since it opened. Maija was on the job from 7am prep cook, till midnight cleanup. Just before she drug herself inside and to bed, she was told to take today off, as another thank you for sticking around and working the double shift.
Thus, we find one waifishly skinny street rat, on the steps that lead to the door that leads up to her place at 5608, on the far side of the BBQ joint from the bus stop. There’s only two steps, but it’s enough to park a threadbare jean clad ass on, her feet bare on the sidewalk, her ball cap pulled on and low, her hair hanging loose and still damp from recent shower over the shoulders of her damp tank top. You’d expect to see her smoking, almost – but she isn’t. At least, not currently. She does, however, have a beer dangling between her fingers. It’s ALMOST 5pm, right? Close enough. Her journal is on her knee too, though it is as yet unopened.
No one pays attention to her, and she’d be easily looked past, if one weren’t searching for her already. At least, that’s the current theory.
[Stella] The envelope Maija had left beside quietly waited for her attention throughout the scant walk from The Brotherhood of Thieves to the metro station, and she hadn’t opened it until she’d gone through the turnstiles and parked herself on a bench to await the next train south. She wasn’t going to be getting off at home like she’d originally planned; she had further to go, and she rode the train all the way into Bronzeville, heading for a family barbecue place on South Racine Avenue.
This neighborhood looks like every other impoverished neighborhood in Chicago, and Stella wasn’t afraid to walk the half mile from the Green Line station to the nearest bus stop and ride that sucker all the way to the corner indicated in Maija’s note.
And there she is, the skinny blonde herself, nursing a beer with the five o’clock hour still a ways off. Stella smiles as she steps off the bus, a vision in checkered canvas sneakers, cut-off Daisy Dukes, a black camisole and a blue Chicago Cubs cap with a corkscrew-haired ponytail sticking out the back, and she calls to Maija, “Where you think you at, the coast? It ain’t five o’clock yet!”
[Maija] There’s an expression that slips across her face, confusion maybe, than worry, before it’s gone so quickly and replaced with a quick smirk, that fades away as quickly as the rest. She doesn’t call out – it simply goes against the nature of one used to hiding. She just waits until Stella is within normal talking distance to lift her beer and take a definite long swig.
“5 o’clock somewheres, ain’t it? An’ close enough here too – deserve it after th’day I hate yesterday. See ya got my note..”
Way to point out the obvious, Maija. She scoots over on the stoop, leaving room for Stella, as she reaches into the small cooler hidden next to her and pulls out a second beer and offers it to the girl with the corkscrewponytail. “Want one?”
[Stella] “Yeah,” Stella says, confirming that she had indeed received the note, as she slings that massive bag off of her shoulder and turns around to park herself on the step next to the taller, skinnier girl. Since last week the older girl’s skin has grown darker, the break in the weather and the scattered sunniness of summer deepening her naturally tanned skin. She smells faintly of lotion.
When Maija reaches for the cooler, hazel eyes flit across the stoop to follow, though she makes eye contact when the blonde speaks.
“You’re a saint.”
Accepting the beer with jewelry-free, manicured fingers, Stella rests the beer on one bare knee and pops the tab, its whisper cutting the still air of the late afternoon. Traffic crawls by, the sun beats down on them, and she takes a quick swig before saying, “Thanks.”
Curling her fingers around the beer, she turns to Maija, squinting in the afternoon light despite the shielding presence of her baseball cap’s bill, and speaks.
“So you got the place to yourself, huh? No roommate or nothin’?”
[Maija] “A saint?” there’s a huff of breath that is likely amusement as she leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees. She’s never been called that one before. Many other names come to mind first, and not a damn one of them close to sainthood. She doesn’t quite meet Stella’s gaze – in fact it seems like she doesn’t ever meet anyone’s gaze, unless at work and it’s required while waiting tables. That caginess still surrounds her, though there’s an undeniable lessening o the tension she suffered working and living at the Brotherhood. Slight, but noticeable.
She looks up at the apartment above her, with a slight nod. “Yeah. Gotta couch surfer already though. Ain’t sure how long he’ll be stayin’.” She lifts a thin shoulder into an almost shrug, points the bottom of her bottle toward the BBQ joint next door. “Ain’t a long commute to work, neither. Boss owns both buildings.”
[Stella] Something about the way that Maija can’t or won’t look back to meet her own gaze makes Stella drop her eyes so that she’s got her eyes in her direction but isn’t boring into her. There is an uneasiness about Maija that she’s seen in new girls before, and after a moment of watching her while she speaks about her couch surfer, Stella casts her gaze across the street at nothing in particular.
Her bag is left slung across her shoulder so she doesn’t have to keep an eye on it between her feet, and she takes another swallow of her newly acquired beer, listening though she isn’t looking directly at her company for the moment.
Drumming her small French-tipped nails against the cold can, Stella bobs her head to some unheard rhythm in her head before she says, “That’s pretty cool. You met any’a your neighbors yet? They cool?”
[Maija] Walsh said he can’t contact her. Said he’d have to go through the office if he tried anything at all. Said she was off the Amber Alert list, but also said she was listed as a resident of Chicago. Walsh ain’t know him, ain’t know the contacts he has, the things he can do with just a location, with something to narrow it down. He ain’t know her current name though. That’s something, right? But that sense of being on the run still exists, for all the steps she’s taken to settling in, settling down. Maija’s Fight or Flight reactions are a finely tuned, finely honed presence that settles along her spine, that remains no matter how relaxed she tries to be.
And she’s trying now. Just like any other person that sits on their stoop and drinks a beer on a Sunday afternoon.
She glaces at Stella, than upstairs again, with a very VERY brief chuckle. Though the fact that it exists is encouraging. “Ain’t got none. Not in th’building anyway. S’only the one apartment, an’ the store here’s for lease, so ain’t gotta worry. Boss lives above the restaurant there, so guess that counts.” She lifts her beer, takes a long swallow, and smirks briefly. “Ain’t had time t’meet anyone else, really. S’the first day I done had off.”
[Stella] Stella nods, as though she can understand the difficulty of trying to secure a day off in the economy that they’re living in now, and considers the mouth of her beer before she speaks again. If she had come over here just to hang out and have a few beers before she went on with her afternoon it’s highly likely she wouldn’t have gone out of the house looking like this, like she just rolled out of bed and hasn’t even had a shower yet. She has had a shower, and recently, but she’s dressed as though she is running errands and not prepped for socialization.
Then again, Maija’s only met her once, and she had been wearing equally cruddy clothes to go to the park and do whatever she had been doing last weekend. Maybe this is always how she dresses when it’s warm out. Maybe she just doesn’t give a shit what she looks like or what people think about her.
“So I come bearing gifts. Your boss care if you smoke in the apartment?”
[Stella] [I’ll brb, I am being forced to eat. Post reeeeeallyyyyy slowwwwwly!]
[Maija] Maija look the same as she saw her before, as well – though even more so. It’s likely the exact same pair of jeans, the same tank top. She doesn’t have much in the way of clothing, herself – she’s everyday clothing, and the slightly newer second hand clothing she wears for work. It’s either or – plus comfortable (stolen) sweats she wears around the house. She’s never in shorts, wouldn’t be caught dead in daisy dukes like Stella wears, but it’s likely due more to the fact that she’s always cold rather than hating the look. She certainly doesn’t seem put off by Stella’s choice of attire, at all – no judgment there, at all. Maija’s just not the judging type.
She comes bearing gifts, she says, and Maija actually cracks a full smile, though it’s brief. “Stella, yer my new hero. He ain’t mind. Smokes hisself.”
She leans back, and digs her keys out of her pocket, and then reaches for the cooler. “Ain’t much, so don’t be shocked or nuthin.” Not that she looks like she’d have a great deal anyway. The place coming furnished is the only reason she ain’t sleeping on the floor. And with that she stands, and unlocks the door behind them, holding it open to show a set of stairs that leads direct up to a small landing, and another locked door.
[Wahya] The couch loafer hasn’t moved since he passed out on Maija’s couch a few days ago. Not even so much as to rouse when she’s goes off to work. He might wake up long enough to hobble into the bathroom to piss and that’s about it. Crawl back to the couch and hide under the blanket.
After that first night, Maija might have suspected he was dead, but the shallow, steady breathing told her otherwise. If she bothered to check on the wounded ankle, which look like it had been chewed on right down to the bone, over the course of the time he’s been there it was miraculously healing. Faster than the time it would take for a normal human. Fortunately, for the wolf-born, he healed faster in other forms. As of now, he sleeps, buried under covers oblivious to the world outside.
[Gina McClaren] *Jingling along the sidewalk. This was what happened when you told the cabbie “anywhere is fine”. She’s dressed in the usual gyspy skirt satin tanktop arrangement, heels clicking to give her that little bit of extra height employers liked. She’d been looking for a semi-legit job, as dancing in parks was getting dangerous quick, and whoring wasn’t something she liked to do in a place she was staying for awhile. She’s walking past the house when there’s a SNAP and she topples sideways with an air scorching curse.* FOOK!!
[Maija] [wow, she eats slow. :) ]
[Gina McClaren] (chomp fasta! *laughs*)
[Stella] [Eat my ass! *types*]
[Maija] [CHOMP!]
[Gina McClaren] (nomnomnom)
[Stella] Maija tells her not to be shocked, and were not for the jangling walk behind them punctuating in a loud snap she might not have done so much as batted an eyelash as they packed up their things and turned to head inside. Yet the full-figured girl who is barely Stella’s height even with those cumbersome heels manages to catch her attention when one of them gives way and sends her crashing to the sidewalk.
Wincing, Stella glances over at the blonde girl before stepping down off of the stoop and regarding the fallen woman with a dubious expression on her youthful face.
“You okay?” she calls in her brassy, deceptively powerful voice, hefting her bag up on her shoulder again. She isn’t exactly rushing over to help but neither is she just going to walk off until the other woman shows she can walk.
[Maija] She turns at the jangling, and cursing topple. She doesn’t move toward the other woman, Stella does that by a step or two, and Maija remains in the doorway, the heavy door itself bumping against virtually non-existent hip and bony shoulder as she watches. The undeniable tension is back, the smile that had briefly crossed her lips gone, and her attention wary, at best.
She likely would have asked if the woman was ok herself, from her position there, but Stella does it for her, and part of her is grateful for that. It saves the need to say anything.
She simply waits, patiently.
[Gina McClaren] *She doesn’t go all the way down, hands splayed on the cement, catching her balance and hopping as she swoops to jerk off her shoe, then the other, barefoot on the sidewalk with a tinkle of ankle charms.*
AUGH!
*She hurls green high heels into the street as she straightens, then cocks her head around to the woman speaking to her with a start…* Och.. Allo.. *She gives a sheepish grin, voice like little bells, memorable and singsongy as she brushes dirt off her hands and continues.* Aye.. ah’m aulrecht.. Fookin heels.
[Stella] If she didn’t know any better, she would think that she and Gina were in the same industry.
It’s the way she’s dressed, the way she carries herself, her attitude even. But that would be judging a book by its cover, and Stella doesn’t appear to recognize her anyway, so she just watches cautiously as the young woman pitches her footwear to the pavement and turns to speak in an accent that she’d think was completely incongruous if it weren’t for the fact that her roommate spoke with a British accent herself.
Granted, her roommate’s accent isn’t quite so northern, or uncultured, but that’s beside the point.
“Yeah, they’re a bitch, huh?” she asks, huffed laughter leaving with her speech. “You ain’t goin’ too far, are you? You get tetanus or some shit walkin’ ’round barefoot like that.”
[Gina McClaren] Thes es TWICE en two days, et es! Last time a felly carried me back tae the damned Brotherhood. .. *She snicks and tosses her hair behind her, a hand on her hip saucily.* Where’s a man when ye need wan, aye? *She pads off the sidewalk to the soft grass of their lawn.* Don’ suppose ye’ve a phone ah might use?
[Maija] Stella’s concerned about bare feet, and Maija ducks her head a bit, likely to hide the ghost of a grin that lingers and disappears – since she, herself, is barefoot. She didn’t go past her own stoop though, so it’s not all together the same. She also can’t help out with an offer of footwear, as she has exactly on pair of beat to hell boots. Thus, the fact she’s barefoot on her stoop.
She isn’t exactly startled by the accent, for all it’s different. Her own is mostly bad grammar, and a mixture of everywhere and nowhere all at once. Not that she speaks much, to give anyone an idea. She just lifts the hand holding her keys to rub against the underside of her jaw, lightly, before letting her hand fall, the thumb hooking into her pocket.
There’s no lawn to speak of – really. Just cement straight on the sidewalk in front of the empty storefront that Maija lives above.
Maija shakes her head at the request for a phone – she ain’t got one – though… “Ya live at th’Hood, then? The bus stop there on the corner’ll take ya straight past th’Hood, though it’s bout an hour ride.” She tells her the correct bus line, then adds… “Won’t be by for about an hour or so though. Th’BBQ place next door, ya kin tell Andy I sent ya to use th’phone if ya need ta.”
[Stella] Maija takes over, knowing the neighborhood and the routes better than Stella does, and the kinky-haired woman just folds her lips into a straight line and adds, “You ain’t buying the right kind of heel, girl. Gotta get yourself up to the Mile, get you some stilettos that won’t break ya damn neck.”
[Gina McClaren] *She pads across the cement rather, cocking her head at Maija. Did she mention the Brotherhood? Why yes, she supposed she had. Well then.* Aye, ah dae live there, jes moved en…. yer familiar loves?
*Taking in bus info with a nod, curvy little pikey leaning to brush dirt off her feet, she gives a warm smile to Stella, voice ringing oh so pleasant.* An aul heels are o the devil. Barefeet fer me. Jes.. needed the boost.
[Maija] She studies Gina, since she said she moved in, an finally admits, softly, almost reluctantly. “Yeah. Jus’ moved out. Stella ain’t been there but once t’find me though.” a warning, there, though the pitch and tone of her voice doesn’t change.
She chews her bottom lip, lightly, then. “Ain’t got that phone, but ya can come up an’ wait for the bus here if ya want.” Might startle Stella, but Maija knows the kind that are allowed to live at the hood – whereas Stella don’t.
“Come on. S’at least a little bit cooler up there.” Stella might note the tension is back in Maija’s spine, even though Gina doesn’t have the rage that makes it impossible to think, to move. It’s still there, settled along her shoulders, that brief smile gone, the wariness back in her gaze.
[Stella] Whatever warning there might have been in Maija’s words completely flies over the bag-toting woman’s head. There is nothing about the Indian woman with the pikey accent that is raising flags or sounding alarms, nothing stranger than hearing that the Brotherhood houses people upstairs. The listings online called it an authentic pub, after all… the old-world pubs did house people, one has to suppose.
Maija invites the other woman upstairs, and Stella waits with her lower lip pulled between her teeth, almost comically expectant as she waits for the stranger to decide whether to come upstairs or not.
[Gina McClaren] Ah’d love that darlin. Thank ye. *She sings pleasantly, tinkling after her barefoot, a curious grin Stella’s way.* Och.. Name’s Gina McClaren. Pikey stock. Ah’ve tha wanderlust in me veins…
[Maija] She nods, slightly, once. “Maija.” And then pushes the door open again, holding it that way until Stella or Gina reach for it, so that it doesn’t lock them out. Then she’s up the stairs, her steps near silent on bare feet. The stairwell is dingy, barely lit, the the steps are in good repair, only a couple of them even creaking, and none showing signs of wear. Being the only apartment, there’s not a lot of crap to be stepped over or around, and while old, the paint job is in good repair.
Once she hits the small landing at the top, she flips through her keys again, and finds the right one, unlocking both lock. Inside there’s a third, but obviously that bolt is only closed from the inside. Once more she holds the door open for one of them to take, and leads the way into the sparsely furnished apartment. The floors are hardwood, and there’s a slight chill in the air from the living room window mounted air conditioner. She drops her keys on the TV, and looks toward the couch to see if Wahya’s awake, saying softly. “Got company..” in warning.
[layout: http://www.chicagodusk.com/index.php?jove=gallery&picture=3488 the door to the bedroom is closed.]
[Stella] Stella holds both doors open for Gina, pikey stock, with wanderlust in her veins. That’s quite the introduction for one so small, but Stella doesn’t have any smart remarks or questions for her. She just gives Maija room to supply her name, and then adds, “Stella.”
She says it cautiously, as though she’s preparing for an outburst from the stranger in the wake of her name’s acquisition, and follows her cohorts up the stairs, her sneakers making very little noise save for when she inadvertently steps on a creaky board. It’s not a bad place to live, one has to suppose; and it’s close enough to work that all Maija really has to worry about is getting groceries and entertainment when she isn’t at work.
There had already been talk of a couch surfer, but Stella hadn’t asked too many questions about him, or her, or it. Before entering the apartment she makes sure to scuff off her shoes so she won’t have to take them off, and tightens her grip on the shoulder strap of her bag as she closes the door behind her.
The couch surfer is warned, and Stella hovers by the door for now, waiting for the lump on the couch to move.
[Wahya] When the womenfolk finally head up into the flight of stairs into the apartment, slipping quietly through the door, it’ll look empty. Like Maija was the only occupant. Her couch surfer not visible, or not here, there are signs of his presence.
The old pair of work boots lying on atop the other at one edge of the couch on the floor, a long coat folded over the back couch covering a pair of men’s carpenter jeans. The cuff on the left pant leg torn like it’d been mauled off by a dog.
At one end of the couch, near the coat, is a medium-sized pile of blankets, taking up one whole side of the cushion and partially disappeared into the crease where the arm and the cushion meet. It almost looks as if someone had dumped the laundry on the couch and didn’t bother to move it.
[Gina McClaren] *Gina bounces up the stairs with the tinkle of charms and swish of her skirts, surveying the apartment with curious dark eyes and an approving grin.* Nice tae meet ye both.
[Maija] She glances toward the couch, then a second time, before she gestures toward the chair, and the clearly unoccupied area of the couch. “Make yaself at home. Gina – wanna beer? Stella, nother one?”
For her part, she pulls off her ball cap, and set it next to her keys atop the tv, before heading through the open walkway to the kitchen. The cooler finds it’s place on the table, and she finishes off the beer in her hand with several long swallows, before tossing the now empty to the trash – grabbing a second for herself, and ones for whomever else asks for one.
[Gina McClaren] Och christ tha’d be lovely. Thank ye. *She flops on the couch, not minding the assorted clothes etc. If they were worried about it, they’d not have asked her in. She catches the beer and fights with the cap a moment, squinting until it opens with a hiss. She tucks her legs up under herself.* Bus comes in an hour abouts?
[Stella] “I’m still working on the first one,” she says, holding up the sweaty can for observation’s sake and following Maija into the apartment proper. With all of the crap piled up near the sofa she decides not to park herself there, but instead sits herself down on the floor with her back against the wall. She uses the muscles in her legs to lower herself, landing with a dull thump on her ass and dropping her back with a rumpling crumple beside her.
That girl could probably fit her whole life in that bag if she had to.
Right now she’s setting her beer down on the floor next to her hip and digging for something inside her purse.
[Wahya] Gina flops down onto the couch, ignoring the pile as she starts to curl up. It takes only a few seconds for all the movement and voices to disturb the pile of blankets. They begin to move of their own accord, one side erecting itself up as a low growl rumbles from under the blankets.
One side of the blanket is shaken violently, a canine head emerging from under the folds with one ear flopping out to stand erect. Long pink tongue rolls out to lick across his muzzle as the couch surfer was woken up by Gina.
A pair of large gold eyes turns on the Pikey, as the animal—dog, no that’s too big to be a dog—wolf? starts to stand up.
[Maija] “Yeah.” she answers Gina, as she comes back out of the kitchen, and folds herself into the chair, her body folding neatly in half as she settles with her feet on the seat, her knees to her chest, her beer in hand…
…and then she falls utterly still, as Wahya wakes. She should have warned him to put on his monkeyskin, first, but then again, she hadn’t expected him to still be asleep. She’s not used to having garou – let along wolf-born – as couch surfers just yet.
She doesn’t say anything, but looks to Stella to gauge her reaction…
[Gina McClaren] Hells Bells.. *She exclaims in surprise, pressing herself into the back of the couch with a little gasp as a lupine head sets eyes on her. She grimaces and cocks her head slightly away from the wolf, extending a caramel hand in apology.* Oops.. Hope ah didnae set on ye, sweet theng… An’s who’s thes? *She asks of Maija, not sure the situation with the Stella girl*
[Stella] She stops dead in what she’s doing, abandoning her search for whatever it was that was in that bag of hers when she sees not a dog stirring underneath the blanket but some sort of… that can’t be a wolf, wolves don’t live in cities, and wouldn’t Maija have said something if…
Maija didn’t say anything about no damn dogs, and Stella is sitting stock still on the floor, staring with her jaw set and her eyes hard. For a change, for once, she doesn’t have anything to say. She looks as though her fight or flight response is kicking in. It’s hard to tell which one she’s inclined towards.
[Wahya] The wolf shakes his body, freeing itself from the folds of the blanket. It continues to eye Gina as she speaks, nostrils flaring as he can breath in her scent, the faint pedigree of her relations. He swings his head away, tail waving slightly as gold eyes flick over to Maija, happy to see her and then to Stella.
The wolf’s ears pin back immediately, tail tucking down as he stares at Stella. He sniffs the air, not being able to sense anything about this woman. There is a look of panic in his eyes as he leaps off the side of the couch and fumbles onto the floor.
[Maija] She clears her throat softly, and unfolds from the chair again to move closer to Wahya a he starts to panic a bit and scramble off the couch. She isn’t one for physical touch – Stella, for one, has pegged her pretty well so far through observation, and probably has noted as much. It may seem outright strange to her then, when she approaches Wahya with less trepidation than she did Gina. Or anyone else for that matter. She sinks to a crouch in front of him, her hand reaching out to slide through his fur and over his ears, a calming, soothing touch.
“That’s Gina, b’hind ya. Stella over there. She’s a friend.” a beat, as she keeps eye contact with him, than settles to sit on the floor, right there in the middle, next to the Wlf. “Uh. So. That’s Wahya. He ain’t gonna hurta none though.”
She’d say he’s harmless, but he ain’t. Not by a long shot.
Gina’s clearly understanding what’s probably going on here, though poor Stella is sitting stock still in shock. Smooth, Maija. Way to scare the piss outa yer new weed connection.
[Stella] The woman and the wolf sit staring at each other for a moment, both of them clearly unnerved by and uncertain about the other, and the four-legged creature is the first one to react. He sniffs, an action that makes Stella’s chest visibly rise with a frightened breath, and as the wolf jumps off the couch the girl shoots to her feet, leaving her beer where it is and stuffing her hand into her purse to snatch loose whatever it is that she had brought over for Maija.
A small paper bag is set down on top of the television, and at that moment her phone starts to ring from the depths of her bag. Without even reaching to see who it is she says, forced cheer in her voice, “Igottago!” and makes what has to be one of the speediest exits she has ever made in her life.
Calling after her does no good. She isn’t running, exactly, but neither does she turn around to see who or what is following her.
[Gina McClaren] *Gina clears her throat, getting more comfortable on the couch, de-plastering herself from the back with a laugh and a glance at the fleeing Stella. Well. That could have been better handled. She remains seated, and gives a sympathetic grimace to Maija and Wahya.* Oi.. Shite. *A sip of beer as she pats the couch beside her, not having meant to run the wolf out of bed.*
[Stella] [Alright, unless anyone’s gonna be like “No panicking Norm come back!” I am out! Thanks for the RP y’all!]
[Wahya] Maija drops to the floor to console the wolf, but that don’t happen. He froze in place when Stella reacted the way she does. He watches her as she manages to grab her purse and flee for the door, leaving it to swing half-closed behind her. The loud thumping of her footfalls echoes down the stairs.
Wahya forces himself to shift up at that moment, pulling on his monkey-skin in a blur of rage. He swears under his breath, reaching for the pants that were on the couch and begins to tug them on as fast as he can.
A look to Maija, “Go after her.” which is what he intended to do as soon as scrambled out the door and after Stella, jeans barely around his hips as he stomps down the stairs.
[Maija] She winces as Stella runs out. She’s a creature that lives in fear herself, and she knows just how it is to have that flight response kick in. There’s not gonna be any stopping her till she gets to the bus stop – if then.
“Ain’t expected ya not to be in monkeyskin.” it’s said with an odd and brief little lopsided grin, hidden from Gina by the duck of her head, the slide of her hair masking her face from view, slightly. He shifts up, and tells her to go after her, and nods, slightly. “Be right back, Gina.”
She ain’t worried that Gina will steal anything. She ain’t got nothing to steal. And with that said, she doesn’t bother with shoes, just grabs the keys and hightails it after the fleeing Stella – she even calls out “STEEEELLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAA! WAIT! COME BACK!”
And Maija, for a skinny ass girl, can run pretty damn fast.
[Gina McClaren] *and then he’s naked. Gina shakes her head, voice chiming sweet and soft as she raises off the couch.* Darlin.. a strange man chasin her may be ill received.. ye might wan’ tae stay put..
[Stella] As soon as that door opens up behind her, Stella breaks into a dead sprint, tearing across the landing and shooting down the stairs so fast it’s a wonder she doesn’t wipe out plowing through the door. Once she hits the sidewalk she loops the shoulder strap over her head so that it falls diagonal across her chest and starts walking quickly, not running, not until the door to the apartment cracks open and Maija is calling after her.
And there’s a half-dressed man with her.
“I’m serious!” she calls back, turning around to walk backwards, trying to save face even now. Her phone has stopped ringing. “I gotta go!“
In a rather bold move for a human, she turns her back and hurries down South Racine Avenue, still not running.
[Wahya] Wahya is cussing under his breath the entire time he’s chasing after Stella. He isn’t sure what the hell she is, he couldn’t tell… His hands brace against the wall and the banister, using it as leverage to swing himself down the flight of stairs, taking a few at a time. He lands with a thud at the bottom, knees bent to help relieve the shock that races up his body.
Stella has hit the street, making apologies as she goes out the door, walking backwards. Wahya stalks after her, his pace not slowing down.
“Stella, wait!!” She’s hurrying down South Racine Avenue and the half-naked man isn’t letting up. He’s running after her as fast as two human legs will allow him to catch her.
[Maija] She runs until she catches up – thankfully Stella stops running, though she’s not walking exactly slow, either. “Yeah, I know ya do, but wait a sec, please?”
If Stella had learned anything of Maija in their brief interactions, it’s that she don’t ever go running off after someone less it’s important. She hides too much for this to be a normal state of affairs. She also doesn’t touch folks – but she does Stella, her hand reaching out to touch her arm as she jogs a couple steps and spins in front of her – meeting Stella’s gaze evenly for the first time. “Please, jus’ gimme a second, ok? Ya like the nicest person I done met round here an’ I ain’t thought t’warn ya bout the couch warmer. My bad – just gimme one sec, please?!”
[Gina McClaren] *Gina rubs her face in confusion and ire. These folks had the subtley of a brick to the head. She’s not going to run, ankle a mite sore from her little tumble. Anyway, they were chasing her already. She trots down the stairs after them, jingling.*
[Stella] Whirling around, Stella looks at the half-naked man with something akin to bewilderment on her young face. Although she stopped running as soon as her palm hit the knob of the door she hasn’t since let up on her fast-paced escape towards the metro station, and even with the strange man and the girl she came to see calling after her she isn’t convinced.
“Who the hell are you?” Stella asks, gesturing to the dreadlocked man with her left hand. She keeps walking backwards. “Don’t touch me, man, I’ll kick you so hard yo mama gun feel it!”
[Wahya] Who the hell was he? Wahya doesn’t answer Stella, she is walking backwards down the street, he cuts her off by moving behind, which will force her to turn around.
He adheres to her threat, not reaching out to grab her, even as he toys with the notion to do so. Anything to subdue the frightened woman, he finally speaks. “Wahya,” he says.
“Name is Wah-yah,” brown eyes don’t leave Stella, “Need to calm down, come back, will explain.”
[Maija] Stella yells not to touch her, and Maija’s hand instantly falls, despite the fact she’s likely talking to Wahya. She shoves her hands into her pockets, instead, the action tugging those jeans down a bit, which causes them to almost fall off her skinny hips, until reverse action of hands in pockets hitches them up again.
“Stella, please?” Her voice is soft, but she ain’t forcing the issue. She also sounds sad, as if she’d just lost the first potential friend she’s had in a long time. The emotion is in her voice, but barely – but in Stella’s heightened sense of awareness at the moment… “Jus.. come back, an’ let me explain?”
[Gina McClaren] *And Gina emerges from the house, heading off the stoop towards them. Not charging, not running, easy, comfortable, bouncy, pleasant. No rush here. * .. Stella loves?
[Stella] The man speaks broken English, and Stella is staring at him as if he’s trying to converse with her in Swahili or something equally intelligible to her.
“No no no no no,” she assures him, laughing sardonically. “No no. I don’t need to calm down, I need to go home. You don’t need to explain shit.”
[Wahya] Stella doesn’t want to come back, nor calm down. He makes a face at the woman when she laughs at him. His features begin to twist in a scowl; Wahya takes his chances to subdue Stella.
He accesses their heights; she is smaller than he, by a few inches and some pounds. He reaches out to grab a hold of her arms, to keep her from leaving.
“Need to calm down.”
[Maija] She don’t say anything else. Ain’t listening to her anyway. She just watches, her hand lifting to rub against her jaw, her face carefully neutral, blank.
And here comes Gina too.
She just waits, silent.
[Stella] Stella yanks her arm out of reach, her nostrils flaring with a sudden awakening of her temper, and she says, “Don’t touch me!“
If she doesn’t keep her voice down or stop loosing threats and pleas into the air, someone is going to call the cops. At least, that’s the way the world would work if people are inclined to do much more than wait for outside voices to calm down and return to what they had been doing previously. Then again, look at what happened to Kitty Genovese.
“And get out my face, mother fucker!”
Every muscle in her body looks coiled, though it’s hard to tell if she’s going to try to run or try to attack Wahya.
[Gina McClaren] *She jingles closer, letting that voice of hers work the magic its so good at.* och, dinnae be sae upset Stella loves. Please? We’re aul reasonable here. Come, at least catch the bus wi’ me? We’ll wait together wi’ em, an let em explain? PLease? Harmless folks. Ah’ll vouch fer et.
((charisma + empathy – calm the hell down, I’m likable and reasonable!.. -2 dif ench voice))
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 6, 7, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 4 at target 4)
[Wahya] To the observer, people hiding behind locked doors and windows, it will just look like another domestic dispute. In the cesspool of this neighborhood, the response time for the police is questionable. Someone is likely to call if the noise keeps up.
Wahya is growing angry with Stella; he doesn’t know exactly how to deal with her. Gina attempts to step in where the werewolf is having no success. He hasn’t reached the point of hauling off and punching the woman to subdue her, but he’s close.
Wahya hasn’t touched her since, just continues to stalk after her. He moves a few paces away, watching her body language, the way she is coiled up, unsure if she’ll attack him or not.
[Maija] She shakes her head, slightly. “Jus’ let’er go.”
She ain’t like bein’ forced into her life none, and clearly Stella ain’t got a clue, and Maija.. well, Stella ain’t listened to her or nothing since she ran, even when she looked her in the eyes. Maybe Gina can talk to her. For her part, Maija’s…
…resigned.
She turns as if she’ll start to walk back to her place – the home where she wasn’t going to have to deal with all this, the home where she’d just be able to be.
[Stella] Gina is the only person here who is smaller than Stella, who isn’t connected to that apartment by anything other than a passing coincidence that had her staying at the same place that Maija had been.
What had she been thinking, talking to strangers like that? She shouldn’t have sat down next to Maija and taken out that joint and talked to her like a skinny thing like her wasn’t capable of violence, or knowing people who were violent, or–
Or who act like they’ve been raised by wolves.
Even as Gina speaks up to calm Stella down the woman’s wide eyes are trained on Wahya, who is still pacing after her as she backpedals down the street. One of her hands is free at her side, ready to fly into a fist if need be, while her left hand is clutching the base of the shoulder strap of her large bag. If she had to truly run that thing would weigh her down something awful.
“Whatever you got to say you can say it at the bus stop,” she acquiesces, straightening her spine and drawing back her shoulders as if to make herself appear larger. The woman has an athletic yet wiry build, and what she has on her looks powerful… if she had to fight someone like Gina. Wahya, a mere three inches taller, could easily take her.
Maija turns to go, and Stella, chest visibly rising and falling, doesn’t trust Wahya to have her eyes off of him longer than it takes to blink. Which she hasn’t done the entire time they’ve been talking.
[Gina McClaren] *Gina turns to Wahya and offers a soft smile.* Darlin.. et’s aulrecht.. but yer makin tha lass nervous aye? Yer a formidable sort o man… mayhaps.. talk tae Maija? She looks upset. *Dark eyes look up through her lashes, that voice so damn easy on the ears as the caramel strider kin offers him an apologetic smile.*
[Wahya] Let her go…
Wahya stops on the street, he looks back over his shoulder in the direction of Maija, as eyebrows knit together. He doesn’t move, arms loose at his sides, hands twitch, shaking them to release the tension he is feeling.
He flicks his gaze back and forth between the two women. He clucks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and begins to turn away. To follow after the little blond woman who he was staying with.
[Maija] Gina says she looks upset, and Maija visibly flinches. Her mask has slipped, her ability to control her emotions is not in place, and that, more than anything else, is what causes her feet to move back toward her apartment, and the safety therein.
Without control, she’s in danger.
Without the ability to think without emotions clouding, she is caught.
She doesn’t know how to function without hiding anymore, without keeping that mask so firmly in place, but for the rare moments she’s alone, in her own place and safe. She had dared think to let another – Stella – in – and then this. Only William had seen her with all defenses down, Wahya has seen merely glimpses.
He’s never seen this…
…her hand lifting to swipe under her eyes, briefly, before folding to cross her arms over her chest. She’s not moving quickly, but not exactly slowly, either.
[Stella] Maija walks off, Wahya follows her, and Stella stands breathing heavily, curling her right hand into a fist and releasing it several times as though she, too, has a sort of simmering internal rage to work off before she can function properly.
Taking a deep swallow of air, Stella turns away from the apartment she had fled, and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter as she starts across the street.
[Gina McClaren] *Gina trots a little further back down the road and picks up discarded heels with a sighs, moving to walk at Stella’s side.* Gave ye quite a shock.. aye?
[Wahya] Wahya hasn’t seen Maija with her defenses down. He doesn’t know what to say to her, so he says nothing. He is following her back to the apartment. Hands tucking into the front pockets of his jeans, head bowing down as he glances at her.
[Stella] “Yeah,” Stella says, without a hint of humor in her tone. She pops the filter of a cigarette between her lips and strikes the tip alight, blowing smoke away and over their heads, before she glances down at Gina’s bare feet. Frowning slightly, she looks back up and says, “Look, I know you mean well and all, but I’m gonna walk to the El. If you didn’t like, you know, follow me? That would be great.”
[Gina McClaren] Och aye darlin.. Ah’ve nae shoes anyhow.. *She gives a sigh holding her broken heels.* jes wan taemake sure yer aulrecht.. aye? Ah’ve never seena folk bolt like tha frem a hybrid.
[Stella] A stream of smoke, and Stella scowls with the use of the term but doesn’t stop walking.
“A what?”
[Maija] The walk back to the apartment isn’t far, and she makes it in silence, until the keys are pulled from her pocket and she unlocks the first door again. Thankfully it auto lock, as the upstairs one was left standing wide open. Not that she has anything worth taking, but for the books of Williams on the bookshelf.
She uses the short walk, and familiar movements to gather her thoughts, to pull those defenses back into place, to find the control she relies so much on. As she holds the door open for Wahya, only then does she briefly look up to meet his gaze, her own still glittering with unshed tears that she’s forcing back, bit by bit, her lips twisting briefly into a slight smirk at one corner. “M’ok. M’ fuckin stupid, sometimes, an’ don’t think, but m’ok. Com’on. I’ll get dinner started.”
[Gina McClaren] (Per/emp + wp)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6) [WP]
[Gina McClaren] (oops. friggin tens )
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Wahya] Wahya nods his head to Maija. He turns to look back over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing to squint at the retreating figures of the women. He pulls a hand from his pocket, running it across his chin, and then up along his jaw.
Maija apologizes, Wahya grunts softly at her. He reaches out to catch the first door as she opens it; he waits for her to go inside, looking back out at the street one last time. Wahya disappears inside, letting it shut behind him.
[Wahya] ooc: I need to head out. Night folks, thanks for the scene!
to Gina McClaren, Maija, Stella
[Gina McClaren] A hybrid darlin.. part one theng, part another? like the cars sort’ o? that couldnae be jes a dag. An’ Ah’m a dag expert.. *She points a thumb to her chest.* Tae beg. *She gives an impressive shrug and a shake of her head, looking to the bus stop.* reckon ah’m tae wait fer me bus darlin.
[Maija] He lets her through first, and she just makes her way upstairs. Soon that door too is closed, and locked behind them. She tosses the keys back on the TV set, and studies that paper bag. After a moment, she snatches it up, and once she makes it to the kitchen, she just tosses it into an empty drawer there and closes it with a decisive bang. That’s for… later. When she can figure out how much it is, and how to get payment to Stella for it.
She pays her debts.
Always.
She says nothing else, just starts doing as she’d promised, rummages about and starts making dinner. Cooking is easy, mindless, and something she does well.
[Stella] “I hate dogs,” Stella says, tersely, and continues on down the sidewalk once they’ve passed by the bus stop, huffing on her cigarette and irritably tugging at the bill of her baseball cap as she goes.
[Gina McClaren] Nice meetin ye loves! *She hollers, feet curled under her as she sits on the busbench with a sigh.. Stella Stella, poor thing had quite a fright. Gina watches her back disappear down the sidewalk.*
[Stella] [Thanks for the scene ladies!]
[Maija] [ditto!]