[Kemp] It was that time of year where the weather turned from hot to cold to warm again at the drop of a hat. Rain came nearly as often as spring. Leaves were turning and falling, where there were trees. This part of town had it’s fair share of trees, though none of the well pruned cared for sort. Here shoes hung from the power lines where the laces had snagged. Scraps of paper, faded and torn were nailed to light posts. Many lights simply didn’t function anymore and several were busted or shot out. Junk cars sat on blocks. Old furniture sat on the curb till someone came along to steal the treasures. What was left behind, no one would sit on.
Here things went bump in the night and one of those things was sitting on the cracked stairs of an old apartment building.
[Maija] Wednesday nights aren’t the busiest for the Family BBQ, and that’s alright with Maija – especially today, with the temperature creeping upwards. As grateful for the job as she is – she’s not so much grateful for the fact that she smells like bbq and onions all. the. time. It’s a small price to pay, however. It could be worse. Much worse.
[she’s been worse]
Since the little explosion of her favored corner store, she has to walk twice as far to get groceries – and that brings us to where she is now – walking home, a canvas bag of groceries hanging from her fingertips, her free hand shoved into the pocket of her hoodie. Her hood is down today, her hair falling midback straight and blond, tucked behind an ear. She’s getting more comfortable now, and doesn’t hide near as much as she did – though some things never change, she still hovers close to the buildings, sheltered in their shadows.
[Kemp] He caught the movement, then the sound of walking when Maija came into his field of vision. His head cocked, then he simply waited till she got closer to his steps to say anything and it was mind shattering when he spoke.
“Hey.”
[Maija] She flinches. She can’t help it – it’s an involuntary reaction – and fingers tighten around something in the pocket of her hoodie. Only when she recognizes him, does she relax – just enough – to let go of the pepperspray, and force her eyes to meet his. Briefly.
“Hey. What brings’ ya out here?”
[Kemp] “Me? I turn up in all the worse places, didn’t ya know that?”
He didn’t miss the sudden tensing of her body or the faint relaxing. Garou were part wolf and wolves spoke with body language. So he kept his voice even, level and rose very smooth and slow.
“But as chance would have it, I was waiting ta walk ya home.”
[Maija] There’s a brief smirk, it flicks across her face, briefly, then slides away again. She’s well used to hiding her emotions, and the brief cracks that show them are few and far between. “Most of yeh do.” turn up, that is.
He says he’s waiting to walk her home, and a brow arches ever so faintly. “Issat so..” a beat, as she studies him, and then tips her head slightly in the direction she was headed. “Yeah, alright.”
[Kemp] “Ya got food, right? Hey, I ain’t stoopid. Walk the girl with the food home.”
He fell into step next to her, taking the street side of the sidewalk. If someone ran over them, they would squish him a second before her.
“So, watcha get?”
[Maija] “Good point.” She doesn’t really have an accent to speak of – it’s a conglomeration of everywhere and nowhere, and a lot of bad grammar. It’s indistinctive – just as she tries to be.
He’s a gentleman, in that he protects her from the street, and any careening cars that’d get him a beat before her, and a bony shoulder lifts under fleece in a shrug. “Some chicken – fixins to fry it up crispy, with green beans an’ potatoes on th’side.” She glances up at him, briefly, then away. “Got enough for two, if ya wanna brave my cookin.”
Fortunately for him – she’s a damn good cook.
[Kemp] He thought he smelled onions. He hoped it was onions because sometimes B.O. smelled like onions, but he was pretty sure it was onions.
“Ya wouldn’t believe some of the sh…I would love to try your chicken.”
He had started to say some of the shit he had eaten and then thought that might insult her and so far she hadn’t pushed him in to testing his irritation gauge on her.
“That is, if ya have enough.”
His accent was a mix of Chicago and Jersey and his grammar generally sucked.
[Maija] He smells onions. It’s not BO – but it’s certainly on her, likely from the fact that under her hoodie, she’s still in uniform. “I’m a Gnawer. When we cook, there’s ALWAYS enough..”
There’s another brief flash of a smirk, almost a smile if it had lived long enough. “Mama J – she lived on m’street – she taught me t’cook, an ya always get enough f’two, and have enough stuff on hand t’stretch it to 4 or 6 if ya need to.”
A beat, and she glances at him. “An’ if yer nice an’ let me take a shower first t’wash th’stink a work offa me, I’ll make fresh biscuits too.”
[Kemp] “Shower all ya want.”
He was willing to wait. Though something she said struck him.
“Ya know, I’m Fenrir, but I always seem to end up with Gnawers around me somewhere.”
[Maija] That gets a soft chuckle, as she mimics his earlier statement. “We turn up in th’worst places, don’tcha know?”
She doesn’t ask, at first – then is curious anyway. “Ain’t met many a ours round here – what one I did knowed got dead. I tend t’meet a lot more Fenrir though, now that I think about it.”
[Kemp] He chuckled with a shake of his head and went into a speech he had used many, many times.
“It comes and goes in waves. Ya see, Tribes tend to surface or turn up in the city in waves, like seasons. Ya get a rush of Fenrir for a few months, then Fangs, next thing ya know, here comes a season of Fiana. Give it a few months and here come the Lords. I’m serious, it cycles. Though for a city this size, I see few Gnawers.”
[Maija] He gets to Lords and she suppresses a shudder, the tension reappearing briefly, before she forces it away. “I tend t’keep t’myself anyways, but I always get found eventually.”
And then, usually, she runs. For whatever reason – this time, she decided to stay, to try and make a go of doing something instead of running. They turn the corner – and she nods ahead. “S’my buildin – right next to that restaurant there. Ya’ll recognize the onion smell, as I smell like I done bathed in it.”
[Kemp] “Heh, well I’m glad to know it was onions and not stank.”
That came out as smooth as complimenting her on her hair or something without considering it might be insulting.
“I pretty much stick to myself too.”
His lips pursed for a moment.
“Walls not only keep things in, but keep them out too. Walls are good things.”
[Maija] She doesn’t take it wrong, but briefly huffs a sound that is likely amusement. “I shower regularly, thank ya. Ain’t no alley dwellin Gnawer.” a beat. “currently.”
She nods, slightly. “Stickin t’yaself is safer.” Though it’s hella lonely too. Which might explain why she invited him to dinner, or it might not. Who knows – he is Imogen approved though, which is a step in the right direction.
They get to the streetside door, and she digs her keys from her pocket, and hopes it – it’s the type where the keyless have to be buzzed inside by her. She pushes the door open, and holds it for him before startin up the stairs to her apartment proper. “This place ain’t much, but it’s mine.”
This door has four locks – and she undoes them one by one, before pushing open the door to let him in.
[Kemp] He glanced at the locks over her shoulder after watching her ass as she climbed the stairs before her. Locks were no problem for him. He could work them open with little thought most times.
“Got enough locks? So far looks like a good place to me.”
Of course he lived in a storage shed.
[Maija] “When I’m hope I put a chair under the handle too.” There’s another brief smirk, and she’s kidding. Maybe.
Once they’re inside, she flips one of the locks closed, but leaves the rest open, before leading the way down the hall to the living room. She drops her keys on top of the TV, and then takes the grocery bag to the kitchen table. Placing it there – she takes a moment to peel from her hoodie. She didn’t notice him watching her ass – and doesn’t notice if he watches her peel down to her tank top and jeans.
“Make yerself at home. There’s lemonade an’ beer in the fridge. Water fresh from the tap.”
[Maija] (hope? home.)
[Kemp] He went to the cabinets to find a glass and fill it with water from the tap. Taking a moment to look around the place.
“Ya put a piece of wood in the window to keep it from opening too?”
[Maija] She shakes her head, and chuckles. “They ain’t open worth shit anyway. Not enough for anyone t’get through.”
She kicks off her boots, then unloads the grocery bag. “I’m gonna go hope inta th’shower real quick. Snoop round all ya want.”
The fixings for dinner on the counter, she tucks the bag away, then crosses the living room to her room – to grab some clean clothes. Back across and she hits the bathroom. She only pushes it toward closed, not caring if it closes all the way or not. As tense as she can be around those born True – she isn’t exactly shy.
And if he snoops – there’s a whole wall of books, some in different languages, other’s well read. On the couch are the books she’s currently reading – Works of Socrates, Learning Latin 101, and Wizard’s First Rule. Gotta have some fluff to read between the heavy hitters, after all.
And then there’s a journal.
[Kemp] He reads like…well he doesn’t even give the books a second glance. For a few moments he prowled through the kitchen and living room. Then managed to distract himself in having the chicken dance on the counter for a time. Listening to the sounds of the shower from the other room as the smell of soap drifted through the crack.