[Gina McClaren] *Gina had stayed the night, caramel kin a soft belly-warmer in Curata’s bed, It had been early morning when she’d shrugged off a heavy arm and slipped towards the kitchen, taking stock of the supplies and slipping out to purchase a few more staples. Now she could be found puttering in the kitchen, becoming acquainted, opening cupboards and jingling about as she searches for something in particular. She mutters to herself.*
Well fook.
[Curata] There was part of the day that the Fianna had disappeared to make his way to the caern and speak with Gina’s guardian. He was met with a hungry Soledad, what the Fianna had down wasn’t an act of pity, just a means of survival when he expressed his offer to take her some place to be fed, and showered.
Now, Curata’s returned, words weighing heavily on his mind as he made his way through the back door of the kitchen. A couple of plastic grocery bags laced between the fingers of his left hand, bulging out with some smattering of food. He stomps the dirt and snow from his boots before entering, an eyebrow raised at the small woman flittering around the kitchen.
“I see ye’re up finally.”
[Gina McClaren] Och Finally?
*She sings incredulously, eyeing the bags Curata brings in. She approaches with the intention of taking them from him, barefeet slapping quietly against the floor. The caramel kin regards him with a cheeky warmth, before taking stock of the groceries.*
Dinnae suppose ye picked oop cumin, ded ye?
[Joss Lehrer] She’s been warned not to go to the Attic, at least not without Joss leading her there. Even Silence won’t breach the doors unless invited – a little worried, perhaps, for what might attack him if he forgets to knock, or steps in the wrong spot, and dares try to turn off the Christmas lights. From the strange noises that have been filtering down through from the Attic, it’s probably a warning best headed. At one point there was even a BOOM followed by the sound of shattering glass, and a Godi’s laughter.
…sometimes it’s best not to ask.
But even the little Godi needs the occasional subsistence, and possibly a shower, and maybe a bear and almost certainly a trip to the first aid kit, just for kicks. So it is, the barefoot Godi comes flying down the stairs, followed by the whirwhirwhir of a little toy police car careening down next to her, bouncing off of walls, and doing it’s best to trip her, with lights and siren flashing.
[…the Godi is weird…]
[Joss Lehrer] (er, a bear?! a BEER.)
[Curata] “Cumin?” He just stares at her incredulously, “I could’ve sworn ye were cummin’ last night wi’ all that whimpering and biting ye were bloody doing to keep quiet.”
The bags rustle in one hand, stretching his arm out to open up his hand to allow Gina to take whatever she needed. He sets the rest on the countertop, his head turning with the sudden noise of the little toy police car and Joss suddenly appearing. He frowns at Joss, much in the way a father does to a wild teenager.
“Do ye ‘ave to be so bloody loud? Bloody teenagers, I swear…” he grunts, leaving the bags on the counter as he begins to unzip the bomber jacket and peels it off, stalking over to the round table to kick back a chair with his foot and sit. The jacket laid on the back of the chair. He glances between the pair.
“Spoke to Soledad, she looks like bloody ‘ell. Pregnant and malnourished, not good for the bairn she carries,” he states rather matter-of-factly, his elbows press into the table’s surface, folding his hands together. “She is a’ight wi’ Gina staying ‘ere as long as we ain’t doing nothing against her will and forcing her to do anything.”
[Gina McClaren] Och ets a spice ye chancer! *Gina’s laughter lifting in the kitchen, settling about the occupants like a warm blanket against the outside chill. The pikey could make almost anywhere seem comfortable with that damn voice. She takes out some ingrediants and leans back against the counter, coral under her honeyed skin. She wags a finger.*
One ye can hardly make a curry wi’out. Ye eaten? *She quirks a frown as Curata mentions her warder, half guilty.* Ah kain Soledad’s en a bad way. She willnae stay o tha brotherhood, but once ah’m on me feet again, reckon ah’ll try an gi’ her tae stay wi me. Again. Stubborn arse she es.
*Joss comes pounding down the steps and the strider kin greets her with a smile.* Enough on tha.. Wha aboot yerself loves? Hungry?
[Joss Lehrer] “Loud? ME?! Good god, you two are impossible. Couldn’t get my iPod loud enough what with all the screamin and hollerin – and I don’t mean Gina either.” She grins at the pikey and hops up to sit on the table, her skirts flaring with the movement. “I mean did you REALLY have to howl that you were the king of the world? Because really…” She shakes her head, and tsks, chuckling. “S’Good – about Sol being ok with Gina here, that is.”
The little toy car zooms up to Curata’s boot, then scoots away to check out Gina, and her tinkling bells, curiously weaving about her feet until Joss clears her throat. The car ‘eeps’ and zooms off in it’s momentary freedom to see if there’s any sign of his One. True. Love.
Gina asks if she’s hungry and she holds her belly and does her best to look famished. “STAAAAAAAAARVing…” She then studies her hands, spread the fingers of her left hand, and idly starts picking slivers of glass from her palm, humming to herself.
[Curata] Curata hisses at Joss, “I was nay yelling I was king o the fucking world. I barely make a noise as it is when I’m shagging, ye silly jit.” Still frowning, he leans over in his chair, glancing down at the floor as the little car zooms around his boot, bumping into it. He shakes his head at it and sits back in the chair.
“I think that was James ye were ‘earing.”
[Gina McClaren] *Gina laughs, listening to the banter and watching the little cop car that apparently had a crush on immogen. A shake of her head as Curata mentions Sandman.* Fookin James.. ee does seem the type tae holler hes own praises durin a shag.
*She pushes off from the counter and sets about gathering things from the fridge, rattling pans and adjusting heat. A glance over her shoulder as Joss picks at herself.*
Peaches, ye aulrecht? Ah heard somethen break upstairs.
[Joss Lehrer] She sticks her tongue out at Curata. “Think so? Maybe. All I know is it wasn’t me.” It’s said in jest, but there’s something under there too, a brief shadow that passes and is gone again. He looks at the car, and she swings her bare feet idly, and grins at him. “Spirit with a mind of his own. Tried to release him, but he’d met Imogen. He’s certain that it’s True Love and she’s destined to be his.”
She rolls her eyes and shrugs, dropping glass shards of various sizes on the table by her hip, as if it’s a common occurrence. One jagged one gets a hiiiissssssssss and she shakes her hand afterwards.” I try to keep him locked upstairs when I’m gone – but he prefers to have the run of the house. So I let him roam and search for her through the place when I’m down here. Figure it’s better that he stay in that lil car then set him free and have him possess her work vehicle.”
She grins up at Gina as she looks over at her. “Glass. Was dealing with some elementals – glass and electric. The latter can be a bit… shocking. I dropped the glass when they zapped me.”
[Curata] Curata unfolds his hands, rubbing the palms together as he watches Joss. Gina seems to be fitting in rather well, becoming integrated rather well, like she belonged here. It was good to hear the sing-song laughter that fills the air of the small kitchen. The fianna is mostly quiet, his tongue poking into his left cheek as he watches them. His gaze becomes vacant, his thoughts carrying on a replay of the events in the past hours.
“Soledad wants to visit Gina sometime, check up on ‘er, asked if it be alright for ‘er to come into the territory. I told ‘er yes, seeing as she still Gina’s ward.” He glances at Joss to gauge her reaction, ” ‘ow long ye think Decker be gone?”
[Gina McClaren] Jaysus… *Gina exclaims as the copcar nearly trips her up, bangles clinking together as she takes a wide step to avoid toppling, groaning under her breath at the ache it causes in her legs. A soft sigh as Joss picks more glass form herself and explains, kinfolk sashaying about the kitchen as she goes about making omlettes. Listening to the garou, but operating as a jingling presence in the background. Butter hisses in a pan.*
[Joss Lehrer] “OwowowowOW” She mutters as she tries for a particularly deep shard from her hand, blood welling behind it. “Help?” She offers her hand to Curata.
“It’s fine, she’s welcome to visit – as long as she minds her manners. I’d prefer it not be without one of us somewhere nearby, of course, but generally speaking, it’s alright.”
As for Silence. “I’m not sure. He went for his Athro challenge. Didn’t know if it’d take days, or months. Can still feel him though, so…” At least that’s something.
[Curata] “Ye big sissy.”
He smirks at Joss, “Wha’ ‘appened to being all ‘rwar I’m Fenrir and mighty’. Ye whining like a puppy.”
The chair skids back across the linoleum as he stands up, the back of his legs pushing against the legs of the chair. He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a utility knife and flips it open. He comes over to Joss, pointing the tip of the blade at her after he opens it, “Sure ye want m’elp?”
[Gina McClaren] *Joss yelps in pain and Gina winces as Curata pops out a knife, turning to watch them despite herself. The scent of ham and egg and various vegatables wafts from the pan. She opens the freezer. Short stacked strider kin padding over to the two garou with a frozen loaf of bead in hand *
Och christ.
ye wan tae numb et o least? Tha looks like et hurts like a betch darlin. Diggin round wi’ a knife esnae gintae be funeither, ah reckon.
[Joss Lehrer] “Don’t make me kick your ass… already beat down James earlier this week!”
She sticks her tongue out at him again, and then grins. “I jus’ cant get ahold of it. Keep pushin’ it deeper.” She eyes his knife, and narrows her gaze up at him slightly, before she grins. “Yup. I ain’t skeered a’you…”
She smiles at Gina. “Nah, will only hurt for a minute. If it gets too bad, I’ll kick up a gift and ignore it. That smells divine, by the way…”
[Curata] “Ye realize it’d be more sanitary if’n ye did this o’er the fucking sink instead o’ bleeding all o’er the damn table.”
Such the charmer Curata was. He takes a hold of her hand with his free one, curling fingers tightly around hers. Thumb and index press into her palm, separating the cut as best he can. He raises her hand up to the light, angling to see it better. Curata uses the knife’s point with careful precision, digging in to make the cut bigger. Wiggling it around until he can get it under the shard of glass and slice it out.
“I ain’t James, he’s a drunk karaoke singer.” He snorts, tucking the knife away as he pulls the rest of the shard out with his fingers and holds it up to show Joss.
[Gina McClaren] Ah’ve raisins soakin en tha sink, was gintae make scooo-och.. *Gina makes a pained noise of sympathy as Curata roots around in the wound, turning her head away and fetching a towel for the Godi now bleeding, sans glass.*
here darlin..
*She moves close to Curata, settling a hand on his shoulder and prodding him with a cold rock hard loaf of bread. Smile muted, but mischevious.*
Ye never said effen ye were eatin, Scotsman.
[Joss Lehrer] “Where’s the fun in that?” She doesn’t resist his holding of her hand, letting him angle it the way he needs too, and then he starts in “owowowOWOWOW” Her toes curl and she screws up her face, and kicks her feet a little, all without pulling her hand away – until he gets the shard of glass free and shows it to her. “See? it’s no little bitty piece! Thank ya.”
She studies her hand, and then smiles her thanks to Gina for the towel, and wraps her hand up in it tightly, to stem the bleeding. “That wasn’t so bad. You seen my Spirit Drum, Gina? They wouldn’t let me resist for the placing and binding of it… THAT was some pain…”
“You call him that and he’s likely t’take his axe to ya, the way he did Andrew.” But it’s said with a grin. She’s Fenrir. Fighting is what they do. “We’ll have t’spar sometime… maybe you can teach me some of your fancy spear work…”
[Curata] “I can’t. I’d ‘ave to kill ye if’n I give up trade secrets.”
He palms the glass shard, glancing it over and then flips the knife closed, tucking it away into his back pocket. He turns his head down to spy Gina drawing up close to him, his nostrils flaring out as he breathes in her nearness. The touch to his shoulder causes a muscle to flex indirectly, “Ye really ‘ave to ask? Of course I’m eating.”
He reaches down to swat the pikey on the ass, “Finish m’dinner, woman,” a growlish tone rumbling from his throat as he walks away to throw the shard in the trash and then resumes his seat at the table once again.
Eyes flicker over to Joss, “Question, ‘ow ye feel about a field trip wi’ a few people to visit an asylum for nutty Garou?”
[Gina McClaren] Thats a fook aft beg peice o bloody glass….
*Singsongs their houseguest, charms jingling suddenly as her ass is swatted. She swats back half heartedly, eyes casting skyward a moment before the young woman returns to her work, making to unthaw the loaf she’d jabbed the scotsman with.*
Silly sod.
* The copcar whirrs from the other room, getting a chuckle as Gina listens to the garou speak. Charms tinkling as she fusses with their meal.*
[Joss Lehrer] She pouts, playfully, and watches the interaction between the two. There’s a ache, deep inside, that has nothing to do with her hand as she watches them. They have a friendly, easy intimacy between the two of them, and it’s with a pang of something like jealousy in the put of her belly. She does not let it show, however – for her Duty is a higher call than any relationship she might someday forge with a kinsman.
It’s just that someday sometimes seems so far away.
“Sounds like fun.” And by fun, she means weird and quite possibly deadly, and… well, yeah. Fenrir have an odd version of fun. “When we goin?”
[Gina McClaren] [I per emp you madam – to see what Gina sees!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6) Re-rolls: 2
to Joss Lehrer
[Joss Lehrer] [youbitch! *L* Jesus.
Joss is lonely. Very much so. She’s pretty sure she’ll never find anyone, there’s no one here in Chicago for her, and she aches to have someone to be with. She had someone back home, but it ended, and ended badly. And she misses him, still. She’s still mourning Evan a bit too – which is the whole ‘life is precious and short’ thing that makes her think about it more than usual. And also the whole comfortable intimacy that is something she longs for. She only has it with pack – and not her whole pack, just a pale version of it with James and Curata. Her jealousy isn’t for them in particular, just for the feeling’s involved. She wants someone to wait for her to come home, to care what happens to her, to love her as she is. You know. She wants the dream.
Hell, with that roll, you can probably tell she’s a damn Virgin too. *L*]
to Gina McClaren
[Curata] “As soon as Boy can clear it wi’ Katherine to set aside his punishment to go deal wi’ the situation.”
He rubs his hands together, aligning the fingers together as he doesn’t really go into any details. “I’ll be dangerous I can promise ye that.”
[Gina McClaren] *An omlette is flopped onto a plate, cheese sprinkled on top. Gina’s charms tinkling as she approaches the godi. Plate offered in one hand, other arm wrapped around her shoulders as the pikey offers a warm smile.*
Yer up ferst, reckon.
*Her brow pinches as Curata mentions Boy. Her head tilting slightly, expression falling.*
Boy’s..bein punished?
[Joss Lehrer] She nods with a grin. “I assume you’ll fill me in on the details a little more before we go? So I know what t’bring with me?” Dangerous. She can get behind that.
She smiles at Gina and takes the plate, a little startled with the one armed hug but she doesn’t pull away. She simply takes up her fork. “Thanks, Gina.” She swings her feet idly as she digs in, her skirts flaring gently as she does so.
[Curata] “Aye,” he replies to Gina.
“For the way the situation wi’ Wahya was ‘andled.” His expression grows stern, watching Gina’s expression as he speaks, he doesn’t say much more on it unless asked.
“So ‘ow’s the cooking?”
[Gina McClaren] Wasnae Boy’s fault.
*Good cheer has been effectively assassinated in a pikey, her head dropping, lips pulled thin. She gives Joss’s shoulder a squeeze and drifts back to the stove. Fingering a spatula in distraction a momentm before singsonging quietly over her shoulder.*
Jes fine, reckon ah’ll make yers next, Beg’un.
[Joss Lehrer] She grins at Curata. “S’good! Don’tcha wish you was a lady an’ got to eat first…”
Not that there’s very much that’s ladylike about Joss. Despite the skirts. Then she’s laughing. “Beg’un?” She eyes Curata, head to toe, and then shakes her head, her grin unrepentant, mirth dancing in her eyes. She doesn’t say anything though, and only glances at Gina as she moves about the stove. She’d seen the quick dive in her mood. If anyone can return the cheer though, she’d put money on her packmate.
[Curata] “I’ll ‘ave ye know I’m a rather robust lad, Joss Lehrer, and pretty much hung like a bull.”
He states, the corners of his mouth peeling back to flash a wide rakish grin at both of the women. He chuckles, “I’m sure it’ll get taken care of.”
[Gina McClaren] *Gina shakes her head, a snort of humor dying quickly as she folds eggs over vegatables and a thick hollandaise sauce. Cheese slathered on top, she moves to offer the plate to the Fianna, raking a hand through long hair. Mouth quirking halfheartedly at his grin.*
Reckon ah was referencen yer bloody height, nae yer Henry Hancock. Here.
*A sigh escapes her, pikey tilting her head and looking from Joss to Curata a long moment, before singing.*
Reckon ah’d best gawn, gi’ me thengs frem tha brotherhood. Ah’m gintae duck out, aye? Everythen’s mexed up effen ye wan moore o’ the same.
*A gesture to the food, pikey shifting listlessly in place.*
[Joss Lehrer] She snorts. “All you boys say that. Ain’t a one of them tellin the truth, far as I know.”
She grins, and nudges Curata with her foot. She tips her head, slightly as Gina sighs, and then to her packmate. “Thanks Gina. I’ll do the dishes.”
She hates dishes, of course, but! It’s only fair.
[Curata] “Thanks.”
He takes the plate from Gina, picking up a fork and looks up at her for a moment, and then down at the plate of food. He doesn’t touch it just yet, “I’ll clear one o the rooms out for ye so ye’ll ‘ave a place to yerself just in case ye want privacy.”
[Gina McClaren] Effen ye wan’ Curata darlin. Thank ye.
*And with that the pretty pikey slips with a faint jingle to the door, donning her coat and exitting with the tinkling of charms far cheerier than she felt. The strider kin needed a walkabout..and whiskey.*
[Joss Lehrer] “Later, Gina.”
She chases the last couple bites with her fork, and then hops off the table and wanders to the counter to deposit her plate in the sink – before diving to catch the toy car before it can escape, tucking it into her pocket with a “Hush now.”
She grabs a beer from the fridge, which she opens and takes a swig from, and she goes about starting the dishes.
[Curata] Curata watches Gina leave, he picks up the fork stabbing it into the plate, mixing it up to get a forkful of food and shovels it into his mouth, quietly chewing as he rests his weight on his elbows. He watches Joss in silence as he eats the plate of food that Gina made for him.
When it was nearly done, he slows down, using the fork to scrape up the scraps into a small pile. He stares down at the food, starting to frown. “I ‘ope ye ain’t getting the wrong impressions o’ me, Joss.”
[Joss Lehrer] She tips her head, slightly, and turns from the sink to look at him, her hands covered with bubbles. “What impressions would those be?”
She pushes her dreads back, and smiles at him. “I see someone who cares for those he befriends, who’s an incorrigible flirt, who is fun to be around, who can kick ass and take names when the situation demands it – friend or foe – and laugh and smile when it’s called for too. Any of those the wrong impression?”
[Curata] “Some would think I was taking advantage o Gina. She’s not exactly in the proper emotional state. Soledad thought I was being flippant when I remarked on how thankful I was that she agreed to Gina’s staying ‘ere. Told ‘er I would ‘ave challenged for wardship if’n Soledad couldn’t take care o her.”
He stands up, shoving the chair back a second time with a push of his legs. He picks up the empty plate, carrying it over to Joss. “I know Gina shouldn’t be left alone. I just …” he shakes his head, “Need to be careful wi’ ‘er feelings.”
[Joss Lehrer] “Well, I’m not one of them.” She nods, and takes the plate, nudging him with her elbow lightly. “Seems to me that Sol takes offense to a lot of things. Half the sept does. It drives me batshit, to tell the truth. You can’t say a word around any of those uppity assholes without them throwing it back in your face like you’ve taken a pee in their cheerios.”
She sighs, and goes back to washing the dishes. “You’re good for her, and just what she needs right now. Someone who gives a shit, and can make her laugh. And that you worry about being careful means you’ll do exactly that.”
[Curata] “Nay, Joss,” Curata shakes his head at her, “I’m not good for Gina. I can’t give ‘er wha’ she needs. I can distract ‘er for a little while, can look after ‘er welfare, but.”
He sucks in a deep breath, not bothering to finish his sentence. His breath exhales out in a frustrated growl. “I’m going to head upstairs…”
[Joss Lehrer] “Who’s to say that’s not what she needs?”
She nods, slightly, and offers him a little grin. It’s only when he’s away, heading up the stairs that she lets her smile falter, that she lets it fade away.
At least he has that. Has something.
She has the dishes, and a kitchen to clean, and so she does.