[Rory] There are three consecutive alleys – two in Bronzeville, and one in Chinatown – that are claimed by the Forgotten. There are new wind chimes that hang on either end of them, the sounds hidden by the loudness of the city, but there for those who know to look for such things. Under them, etched into the brick, is the name The Forgotten, with a mark that is blended in that looks to be the glyph for Pack.
This alley is not empty – not tonight. Tonight it holds on very pure bred redhead, whose blood holds the siren’s call of the Fianna. Other than the purity of her blood, the only scent is that of the city on her skin, on her clothing. Of herself, there is nothing. There is the recognizable prickle of Rage, even under the darkened moon, and the layers of clothing to keep her warm tonight.
She’s crouched down inside the alley, pouring a gallon of milk into what looks like an old plastic oil pan that she’s cleaned out – and despite her rage, she’s surrounded by cats of various ages, coming to taste of her gift.
[Bai Chou] Bai was walking…almost patrolling in a way through the various alleyways of Chinatown. He could navigate Chinatown like it was his living room on his best days…for the older members of the sept, it was hard not to think of the Uktena when he had frequented the sept. But that was then, this is now. Now…there were new faces. First had come in the form of Fox’s children…tonight…came the children of cat.
The child of the Snake did not particularly find himself fond of either arrival of the Zodiacs in what it believed to be its den. He paused, hearing the mewls and meows of cats and kitten alike…as his loafers came into view…likely a myriad of hisses began to come up, viewing him as a hostile. Once again a reason why Bai hated animals. A smoke jutted from the corner of his lips, eyes glancing over the alley walls and then to the redhead…he could smell her…the breeding evident to someone who had too much time spent around the children of Stag. And he just stared with his blue eyes at her.
[Rory] The cats start to hiss and back away, until she murmurs softly, nonsense words to bring them closer, to urge them to find her gifts worthwhile. She scoots the pan to the wall, so that they’re out of the way, and out of Bai who’s making them uncomfortable. She then takes her time to pour out the baggy of cat food next to the bowl too, before she turns to look at Bai, remaining crouched, wary.
Much as the kitten who’s hiding behind her heels.
Her eyes are green, and they sweep over him quickly, and meet his eyes – but only briefly, dropping quickly as she zips up her backpack.
[Bai Chou] “So…you’re the others who came to roost while I’ve been away.”
The head cocked to the side, studying her. A cigarette rested on his lips, ignoring the light drizzle from the rain…the rain that made it so cold and wet…that didn’t want to go away anytime soon. The smoke rolling from his cancer stick had the scent of cloves with the sweet smell of cherries in there. A strange mixture.
[Rory] She tips her head, slightly, and lifts a hand to rub at the side of her nose, lightly. Her eyes lift up to his, briefly, and then she nods, slightly, and points to the wind chime, and the pack mark below it.
“Forgotten.”
Single words are easier.
[Bai Chou] He nods and then speaks.
“I’ll tell you the same as I told that Lord I ran into earlier…as long as you don’t try to assume you know everything in Chinatown or attempt to exclude me from protecting my people…we’ll have no problem. You respect the people…the area…we’ll get along fine.”
[Rory] Her brow furrows, slightly, as he talks, and she stands. She’s not a very tall woman, Rory, but she moves with the grace of the monster under her skin. She tugs her knit hat down over her curls a little farther, in attempt to keep them under control – it doesn’t work. It never does. Her jeans aren’t as dirty as one would assume they should be, and neither is her pale skin. With the breeding though, it is clear she is not bred for living on the streets, in alleys. Yet she does anyway.
By choice.
[The city will provide.]
“Three alleys – and in between.” She nods, sharply. “Ours.” She tips her head again, and a bony shoulder shrugs. “Don’t tit on our sherritory, and we won’t prave a hoblem.” She doesn’t seem to notice when her words get mixed up, or think anything of it. She hears what she intends to say – not necessarily what she does.
Bottom line, though – he left. They came in to protect – and Chinatown is a large area by her estimation. Their cut isn’t much, so she doesn’t see a problem. Unless he makes it one.
[Bai Chou] “Like I said…respect it…we won’t have issue. And I won’t intrude in your areas unless its something involving my people.”
He leaves it at that as he blows smoke to the side, respectfully not blowing it into her face. Bai himself dressed like someone would imagine for a private investigator, though the coat and his shirt look a little worn in, as if he slept in them a lot.
[Rory] “Respect goes wwo tays. Don’t know you – or pour yeople.” Again, the curious flipping, and she is none the wiser.
She wrinkles her nose and rubs it again, before offering her name. “Rory.”
[Bai Chou] “Bai Chou. And my people…are this community. Asians…the Chinese. Okay..maybe the Japanese as well…but you get the drift. I’m here for them…this is my home.”
He blew another plume of smoke, wondering what was with her speech but he just tried to ignore it the best he could.
[Rory] A brow arches. “All of them?”
She looks out past him and the hustle and bustle of Chinatown, and smirks, briefly, as she looks down to grab her backpack, and sling it onto her shoulders, before tucking her hands into her pockets.
“Jig bob for one man. Specially when le heaves.”
[Bai Chou] “I had reason to leave..had a lot to do with kin to your people.”
Bai frowned at her…personal was personal…but if she wanted to know…or rather wanted to get lippy with him, he could throw that way as well.
“I came back home because I had finally sorted it.”
[Rory] She shrugs. She has problems with kin to her people too. She doesn’t care really, as long as he respects the territory they’ve claimed. He can’t hold all of Chinatown hisself after all.
She moves over to a garbage bin of stuff, and starts to look through it, idly, as they talk. “Charlie’s Shinese Chack.” It had been there for some time, they’d discovered, so he likely knows of it -and the fact that it’s now gone, burnt to the ground. “Served fluman hesh. The Forgotten cook tare of it. We do our duty.”
And do it well.
[Bai Chou] “Want a medal? I’m not about to get in a dick measuring contest with you on who’s done what for Chinatown. Cause trust me…I’ve seen a lot. I’ve done a lot. I’m not arguing with ya or telling you what to do….or that you can’t do it. I’m just saying to respect the people here. Involve me if you don’t understand what’s going on…I know more about this area then you would think….I know its culture, its laws, its hidden passages, abandoned businesses, and who to talk to. When I call it ‘my area’, I’m not saying I own it. I’m saying I’m party of it. There’s a vast difference.”
He took the cigarette out of his mouth, glancing to the small butt before he flicked it into the dumpster.
“If you can’t accept that idea…well…just deal. Just like I’m gonna have to accept I have Fianna and Lords gallivanting through here like you all got yellow fever suddenly.”
[Rory] She smirks, briefly. “Like eggrolls.” The draw of Chinatown, apparently.
She pulls something out of the garbage and tips her head slightly, studying the little box, trying to figure out what it is, what it does, nimble fingers exploring.
As for the rest, she simply ignores it as he prattles on like a Fang. Or a Lord. She does reach to pluck the cigarette but from the dumpster that he’d flicked, and scrape it against the side to be sure that it’s out before dropping it back in as she keeps rummaging, the box found still in her hand. Doesn’t know what it is yet, but it’s broken, and another man’s trash is often this Fianna’s treasure.
[Bai Chou] He just snorts.
“Seeya.”
Bai then turned to walk off…having said what he wanted to say. Likely, she would pass on the message in some form or another.
[Rory] She lifts a hand in an absent wave, before she settles to sit on the ground by the dumpster, and get to work on the little box found.
Content to work right there in the filth of her alley.
Apparently, she’s there to stay.