The name was murmered, softly, tumbling from her lips as though she had put no thought behind the answer, as though she didn’t even know she was answering a question at all. Then, like a ghost from the shadows, Decker just seemed to appear, his shaved head and tell-tale blue smoke from the joint brought to her attention by Nessa and Josh pausing to look toward him.
Her nostrils flared, her spine stiffened, and her muscles grew tense. Decker and her… So far, they’ve never really had any personal qualms. They’ve never gone head to head, never uttered even a single harsh word of argument to one another. Their meetings, their encounters, brief as they were, were always business-like at best. Never friendly, but never aggressive either. Not even on the night that Anne Marie had killed Baaku had she thrown an accusation to the Adren Modi. But still, he always set her on edge.
[Decker Rohl] (ok, that’s it. *breaks out the snail poison*)
[Nessa] The woman with the man began to look familiar, stares right back at her. That’s–
That’s irrelevant, for the sudden threat in the shadows, the wash of fear which grips her stomach, makes her turn and step away, and again. Her breath retreats with a hiss back down her throat; she had not seen him at all. No warning.
Like last time. Tonight, though, he actually deigns to speak to her. She is stronger than she was, in key ways, but this one garou, she cannot meet his gaze. Her blue eyes slip away from his eyes, rest on the line of his chin. No, to his juglar, and the beating of his heartbeat there, far slower than her own now.
“I was.” Her shoulders, tones with the upperbody muscles of a gymnast under the black dress she wears, square just a little. She was honored to be his wife, and perhaps that gives her a little more determination to stand straight, no matter how traitorous her kinfolk eyes.
[Nessa] (edit: mate, not wife!)
[snailette] (( Nyah, nyah! ))
[Decker Rohl] No one ever taught Decker it was impolite to stare. Or maybe someone tried. And failed. It didn’t matter. The modi is as he is, and he stares at Nessa. No, worse; he watches her. Studies her, and the nuances of her expression. Considers her, and perhaps for a moment, considers her plight.
A widowed mate. If you believed the old stories, such things didn’t exist. Mates died of grief, or in a valiant last rush for vengeance. But Decker didn’t believe the old stories. And here stood the impossibility right now.
“Didja care fer him?” His tone isn’t light, but it is — it seems — careless. “‘r was it jus’ duty?”
[Joseph Morgan] That name has a very definite and immediate effect on Joseph. His eyes, dark brown to begin with, suddenly seem shadowed. The line of his jaw tightens, and his hand moves out of his pocket to – well, no. It rests at his side. He watches Kendra, watches her staring, and feels his eyes pulled in the direction of the man he’s only heard about in snatches. He refuses to allow his expression to dip into the look he’d worn in the comfort of his own apartment, when he’d heard things, read things, been told things. Not out here.
And something else crawls up his spine with icy fingers at the same time, a sensation he hasn’t felt in a long time. His eyes flick to the man talking to Josh and Some Lady, and Joseph inhales quietly between his teeth.
[Joshua Volaschky] A soft exhale of breath, the slip of a sigh as it was torn from him and hung in the air a moment. The walk had been paused as nessas attention was dragged away by the anruth adren and josh found himself simply standing, stagnanting on the street waiting for the conversation to run its course while his eyes lifted, warily to search shadows.
They were there, somewhere and he knew it, his mind knew it, his soul felt it. Watched, waited.
Once more, eyes swept over kendra like they did the passing throngs or mortality… ignorant, dismissive.
[Nessa] Her chin raises just a little, so many muscles tense at once. Will NOT cry in front of Decker. Will not. She swallows hard, and again. “I loved him. He loved me. No. I still love him. Only he is gone.”
And she still lives.
And it is hell.
The need to DO something, to move, to act, to do anything but wallow in grief grows again, not eased at all by the fucking fag Decker is smoking. What the hell was it with smokers lurking around her tonight?? Craving, and her inner wildness. Not good.
[Decker Rohl] The Fenrir draws a hit off his joint. And it’s not a fag: it’s a joint. A green-packed, handrolled, illegal-except-for-medical-usage-in-certain-states, joint. Those terrible grey eyes flicker almost shut as the hit dissipates into his blood. He exhales slowly. Ashes the joint. They say the wolves of the north are without mercy. That all soft feelings freeze solid in the cold, and all that’s left is ice and flint and steel and fang.
“Didja ever tell’im?”
[Loki] Where there is one Fenrir sometimes another is bound to be skulking around. It’s hard to say, where the hell this one comes from. He’s not there one minute and the next the Rotagar is creeping out of the shadows.
The streetlight casting a harsh light across sharp features, nostrils flare out as his breath rushes out of his mouth and nose. Shaggy brown hair falling across his mismatched eyes; one pale blue one, one brown, circled by the calloused and stretched scar tissue of a claw mark that melts into the temple, stops at the hair line. Dark clothing cuts across the lean muscled frame of this Fenrir, aiding in his ability to hide.
He slides into the peripheral of the Adren Modi first, not far off from his right, and comes to an abrupt stop. “We’s ‘avin’ a little party tonight or what?” A jerk of his chin up to Agnessa, “Evenin’, luve,”
[Kendra Peterman] Her leg moved, and her foot slid forward a little. Her eyes were set on the side of Decker’s head for some time, then the moved to meet Josh’s eyes, staring toward the direction she and Joe were standing in, and for a moment she was chilled. A similar sound to what Joseph had made, the sharp inhale, came from the small Fianna at his side, and she set her jaw firmly, holding her teeth together, and looked away.
Emerald eyes fell upon Nessa, and watched her for a time. All in all, she didn’t much care for Nessa. The woman was far too skiddish, made her feel like a true monster to even be around. The woman had flinched in fear and mistrust at the very sight of her with a blade, as though, like a rabid dog, she would turn upon her and kill her without reason. Yet a corner of her heart ached for the woman, for her loss. Her foot slid forward, but no further, the want to go help and comfort Agnessa stopped by common sense instead.
Then Loki joined the scene, and she leaned her weight back again, bringing herself closer to Joe. We’s ‘avin’ a little party tonight? …Yes, a party. A gathering of people Kendra simply didn’t get along with, right in her path.
[Joshua Volaschky] he nodded at nessas words, somehow.. that seemed to draw a sigh from him. He had done the right thing. A single moment, a single action and choice but it had been right. Twisted images and thoughts rose within the labyrinth of his mind, teeth buried into the flesh and tore as thoughts filled him.
Life for a life, payment made and price extracted, blood to pay for flesh, to exchange life with death
His soul shivered and eyes flickered with the thoughts before he glanced up, eyes to meet kendras then turning to look at loki.
He was an unknown.. and josh wasnt in the mood to be sociel.
” Nessa… perhaps we should continue.. ”
Words whispered, a soft request and a prompt as the ahroun seemed to take note of growing numbers.
[Nessa] “Once.” Hoarse voice now. Strained. Only once. There, at the end. More regret. So close to not saying it at all. He had tasted her borscht. He had deserved the words. She will not break under these questions, but ahh there is pain…
“Why are you asking, Decker-rhya?”
Her gaze flicks to Lachlan, and she nods acknowledgement, in a distracted sort of way. One does not ignore Decker efficiently, even for a moment. Not this close.
Maybe she should sniff hell out of his smoke before it fades. Smoking Eagle. Maybe he was on fire after all.
[Joseph Morgan] There was a certain poetry to it. Tall, dark and handsome Kinfolk standing silently and supportively by while the deceptively sweet-faced Garou stepped closer beside him, away from the horrors of her other, more brutal life. It was a pretty image, if you held your nose and didn’t take a whiff of the bullshit. Joseph was supportive, but he wouldn’t stay silent for long, and he apparently wasn’t ‘supportive’ enough to pat her on the shoulder or offer her any kind of comfort or encouragement. Kendra had a sweet face, but she wasn’t stepping closer to him looking for the same.
It was also a load of crap because Joseph was clueless. He could feel the edginess in the air around the larger man with the joint (oh, yes, we know that smell, don’t we?), but Decker and Nessa both were complete strangers. Loki’s face was familiar only because it had been shoved in Joseph’s own once. And Joshua…
His expression hardened by several degrees when Joshua met Kendra’s eyes. Joseph wasn’t watching her, after all, at the moment. He was watching all of them. Exhaling the hissed-in breath, Joseph looked at Kendra again. “Home?” he asked. Simple enough question, and he had plenty of his own reasons for wanting to go, even if he didn’t know that the woman ahead was Baaku’s widow or that the smoking man was the Alpha to the one who had killed Baaku. Hell. Joseph had never even met the dead guy.
[AnneMarie Hoch] Where there is one Fenrir, other’s tend to follow, although in the case of this Modi, it is coincidence. Her patrols finished for the moment, she had taken the extra time to enjoy a meal, something she so rarely does anymore.
Thus, she is heading back towards Eagle Territory, which inevitably – the way things so often do – puts her in the same place, at the same time, as the little gathering that’s getting larger by the moment.
Long strides, typical attire, etc. Somethings never change.
[Decker Rohl] No one had ever taught him that it was rude not to answer when spoken to, either.
The question is still hanging in the air. And until it’s answered, the Modi’s attention is hers. No waver. No distractions. It’s an oddly animal trait, to be able to focus so; to shed the rest of the world like a snakeskin and lock one’s entirety into one moment, one exchange, one question.
(one battle.)
It’s hard not to wonder if this isn’t how his attention bore down on a wyrmling in the last few seconds of its miserable life. If this isn’t how his attention locks onto his own mate in those few shattered seconds between intent and action; and if so, how she could ever withstand it.
There is no question of Decker’s strength. It is there for all to see. The warhewn body, the iron will, the utter calm in the face of war and death. But once in a while, it becomes starkly apparent that it took more to stand unflinching in the face of all that.
— but that has nothing to do with the present. The shadow lord kin answers. The regard breaks; his surprisingly long eyelashes sweep down; he ashes his joint again, and watches the ashes fall. His thoughts are his own.
His stare is not so intense this time, when it rounds on Nessa again. “‘Cause I wanna know,” he replies, bluntly and honestly. A pause. “Agony Thane died on his feet. He didn’ plead ‘r beg. He didn’ run.”
[Loki] There is wicked gleam in the Rotagar’s eyes, a lop-sided grin playing across his lips, in some feral impression of a human snarl. He looked absolutely diabolical at this moment in time and he simply was itching to start something.
His hands stuff into the pockets of his work slacks, swinging back and forth on the balls of his feet. He gives Joshua a baleful glare, furrowing his eyebrows. “Ye know, Nessa, I stopped by yer place not tae long ago. Ye weren’t home, I tried tae call, but ye dinnae answer. I thought ye forgot all ‘boot our date, so I thought I’d come and see what was keepin’ ye, luve. Ye had me bloody worried.”
A line of tension rolls across his shoulders, he rolls his head back on his neck, popping vertebrae down his spine. The silent Modi slid into his peripheral vision, garnered a turn of the head to look at her, and he nods once to acknowledge Annemarie. And then, he’s back to looking at everyone else, flicking his eyes to Josh and Nessa, and then over to Joseph and Kendra.
[Kendra Peterman] Home?
The question- the tempting offer- lingered in her ears. Home. It sounded like such a wonderful idea, and probably was. Yet something kept her anchored to the sidewalk, unwilling to budge in a backward direction. In a brief moment, her hand lifted. The backs of her fingers touched to his, but fell away just as quickly as they had arrived to touch. The gesture was a start of a reach for a hand, for fingers to grasp and squeeze for support. But she stopped, restrained herself, and instead folded her arms tightly over her stomach.
“No… There’s questions I gotta ask, ‘m afraid.” She murmered this quietly enough, then started to walk forward, toward the group, toward the mouth, throat, and belly of what felt like it could potentially be hell itself.
It will be quick. Quick and polite. She promised herself this as she approached.
[Decker Rohl] (dude, check out my gallery :D)
to AnneMarie Hoch, Joseph Morgan, Joshua Volaschky, Kendra Peterman, Loki, Nessa, snailette
[Joshua Volaschky] ( its deckers butt plug of anail snail!)
to AnneMarie Hoch, Decker Rohl, Joseph Morgan, Kendra Peterman, Loki, Nessa, snailette
[AnneMarie Hoch] (LOL! Brilliant!)
to Decker Rohl, Joseph Morgan, Joshua Volaschky, Kendra Peterman, Loki, Nessa, snailette
[Kendra Peterman] (( Public Announcement: …Damon’s a NERD. ))
to AnneMarie Hoch, Decker Rohl, Joseph Morgan, Joshua Volaschky, Nessa, snailette
[Joseph Morgan] Right now I kinda hate you a whole lot and love you a little bit at the same time. FREAK.
to AnneMarie Hoch, Decker Rohl, Joshua Volaschky, Kendra Peterman, Loki, Nessa, snailette
[Decker Rohl] (it is awesomeness incarnate :D)
to AnneMarie Hoch, Joseph Morgan, Joshua Volaschky, Kendra Peterman, Loki, Nessa, snailette
[Nessa] Only the semblance of calm, and not a very good one at that. Raw– ahh Decker tears her open again, but maybe something off will heal straight this time. The nod she gives him is jerky, intense strain on her pale, Shadowlord’s face.
“As he lived, Decker-rhya. He–”
Nessa’s mouth was going to say something potentially eulogizing to Decker, or something perhaps about revenge, or something about forgiveness (ok, no, not that…) but Loki opens his mouth and the tension building inside her slams into dishonored fury.
That he would say such a thing.
Her body snaps towards Loki, taking no steps YET; she does her best work from a distance after all. Nessa YELLS at the rotagar, her rare, very rare temper breaking into full view. “I SAID, I WILL HAVE MY TIME TO MOURN!! DO NOT PUSH ME!!
Her hands are close to those sleeves again.
[Joshua Volaschky] The scream shattered the silence of the ahrouns mind, ripples, waves of anger washed over him and he shuddered a moment, his own body tencing like a ripcord as he twisted towards nessa, teeth almost bared with ears back.
A breath drawn and yes he recognises the smell of deckers chosen drug and it sent a wave of cravings through him for a moment.
A gulp and another soft, hoarse whisper
” WE should continue Agnessa”
[Joseph Morgan] Oh, it was a wonderful idea, it really was. At ‘home’, there was a ceiling: no rain. At ‘home’, there was a radiator to heat the rooms and dry the clothes, there were carpets and you could take off your shoes. There was food there, and familiar smells, and if she would just turn the fuck around and walk away from the intensity of life for once instead of rushing headlong into it, she could have all that and more. He was a step away from promising espresso-moistened Italian desserts.
Joseph had backbone. Joseph had taken many a beating for that backbone without being broken. That didn’t mean he wanted to walk towards what he saw ahead of them.
When Kendra’s hand moved back and grazed his own, Joseph blinked – in surprise, nothing more. Two of his fingers flicked towards the brief contact, but were equally restrained. He didn’t hold her hand, but seeing her fold her arms over her gut reminded him keenly of a very recent memory. Joseph’s brows pulled together in a deep frown of concern. Not a smirk. Not aggravation. He took a deep breath. Let it out slowly.
And he followed, like a good, supportive Kinfolk. Even when the dark-haired woman up ahead shrieked at Lachlan, and even though the last thing he wanted was to get within ten feet of Joshua. He was a few paces behind Kendra, but he followed.
[AnneMarie Hoch] There is a returned gesture, a chin up in greeting to Loki, and of course her Alpha. The others receive a glance, marking where each stand, and with whom. Kendra, Joshua, and Joseph. The look is quick, but no less calculating, especially as Kendra takes a step closer – but at that point, Nessa is screaming.
A slim brow lifts over pale gaze, as she comes to a stop near by, placing her back toward a convenient wall (but not leaning. she never leans.) which has the added benefit of allowing her to watch Decker’s back, as well as keeping everyone within sight.
[Decker Rohl] Nessa snaps and screams at Loki. Decker speaks in the same moment, quiet and low. “One more word ‘n I’ll tear yer tongue out, Loki.” His fingers are hard on the joint, bending it out of shape. Fer Chrissake, comes the disgusted totemphone; he doesn’t bother to elaborate.
“The victor has a duty to tha next-‘a’-kin,” he tells Agnessa. Something of the strange surreal tension has left the moment. Maybe that was Loki’s idea all along. “You gotcher tribe, but if you need help ‘r pertection, you know where ta find us.”
[Decker Rohl] (sorry that took so long, folks. had a phone call)
[Kendra Peterman] The distance between Kendra’s previous anchor-spot and the group had closed, securely so when the Fianna’s fingertips touched gently Agnessa’s skin, slid softly from her elbow up to her bicep, where her palm layed flat and steady, but light and easily shrugged off if Nessa so wished. There was no grip, just a touch, just a comfort. From that touch, Kendra stepped into the group.
Emerald eyes flickered toward Nessa, finding her face and her own eyes, no doubt dark, furious and bewieldered all at the same time, and she just nodded, lightly, before turning her gaze to Decker. No one else. If she looked to Josh she would freeze up. If she looked to Loki she would choke on a laugh of sarcasm. If she looked to Anne Marie… well, let’s say that situations would become worse only if the Wyrm himself rose his ugly head right then and there from the earth. Eyes of a determined fool of a Fianna met Decker’s, glinting emeralds to steady, cold gray storms.
“Decker-rhya. Got’s a question fer ya.”
[Decker Rohl] Quieter, lower, his eyes not leaving Nessa: “‘m havin’ a fuckin’ conversation.”
[Nessa] Nessa gathers the packs to herself. She hadn’t meant to, but she seems to be collecting them, totem-bonded werewolf stamps. The head of an Eagle, one of the more valuable now in her collection, is pasted towards the top of her book.
At this point, one might gather ones self with dignity. Say “Thank you, Decker.” Some other proper words, and ignore the rotagar.
She doesn’t, quite, her face flushed red with temper and fighting a snarl which she doesnt’ precisely aim at Decker. Hasn’t looked towards Annemarie yet. Not today. Fuck, just can’t, today. Nessa does manage to speak, in a calm voice no less as her own hand moves to cover Kendra’s touch on her arm. Contact, support. She accepts it as she speaks, her gaze raising– with fucking difficult effort, for only enough seconds to speak, jaw trembling under the strain.
“Thank you. I will call if I have need.”
The lead of Decker’s presence forces her to look down just a little, look away, anywhere but directly into his storm. And she, the child of Thunder…
[Decker Rohl] The Modi inclines his chin a fraction of an inch. It’ll serve as a nod.
And then, and only then, he looks at Kendra — waiting.
[Kendra Peterman] Her gaze flickered toward Nessa’s hand when it moved to cover her own, and her heart ached a little more. The poor woman. More respect was born in her heart in that moment. The woman, Agnessa, she had grown stronger from the days she remembered, the days where the woman flinched from anyone with deep Rage reserves. Yet here she stood, speaking to Decker, surrounded by Fenrir, by Ahrouns, by Garou in general, and she did not– would not quake.
Kendra was, on a level, proud.
Her hand slid from the woman’s arm after a few seconds, and her arms laid still at her sides, pressed close to the feminine curve of her torso, elbows tucked in. She looked back to Decker, swallowed, and spoke. “Migh’ not be my business, bu’ consider this concern of a friend. …Why’d’ja take Evan?”
[Loki] He doesn’t flinch under the scream, just eyes the Shadow Lord kinfolk, the movements of her hands to her sleeves, knowing what tricks she held up them only bring a chuckle to his lips. Decker threatens to rip his tongue out, and all Loki does is put his hands up in the air and shrugs his shoulders at the Adren Modi, feigning innocence.
The little throat ripper takes a step up, the little touches to the kin’s arm, comfort and support, don’t go unnoticed. Loki simply narrows his eyes, a scowl darkening the Rotagar’s face. His nostrils flare as his mismatched eyes bore into the little Fianna. His mind painting images in the back of his skull of some vile position he’d like to get her into….
He blinks, angles his head in such a way, that it’s animalistic in nature. She inquires about Evan and his mouth twitches, wanting to answer that question for Decker, despite it not being directed at him.
[Joseph Morgan] Joseph remained at the periphery, at least a couple of feet away from the motley gathering. He didn’t stand there with his hands in his pockets whistling a tune or just staring slack-jawed at the Fianna he had been walking with. Joseph’s hands, broad and long-fingered enough to cover an octave on the piano when stretched from pinky to thumb, rested at his sides. His eyes, black in the dim light, traveled from one face to the other as though studying faces more than the people that wore them.
He recognized something in Nessa that had nothing to do with her accent or the slant of her eyes. Grief.
He noted the name of the Big Scary Motherfucker that Kendra walked right up to.
He was offhandedly cognizant of the fact that Loki wasn’t snarling at him about his lineage.
The glance he gave AnneMarie was empty; he knew nothing about her, but he’d remember the face another time.
And Joshua…Joseph wasn’t about to look at Joshua. There were times when it was worth it, to toe the line, push a button, go ahead and let your own anger show in the face of Rage so far beyond emotion that it was part of one’s blood. This was not one of those times.
So he stopped looking around and looked over the back of Kendra’s shoulder at the man she was talking to. The molten core at the center of the storm, to paraphrase the fucked-up vision of a prophet. He stayed where he was, because his life facilitated doing so. The only werewolves that really made a difference in his life were the ones that came in and plunked themselves down in it like they belonged there. The rest Joseph was happy to remain a stranger to.
[Joshua Volaschky] He waited for nessa, not for the party that had gathered..but rather to continue with luck the conversation he had started with the kin of his tribe.
No glance was given to kendra, no more than he gave to loki or to annamarie. they were but ornimentations to the night.
The night, brother, lover.. family. the night that welcomed and embraced him in the sweet darkness, the ebon velvert that envloped him. he sighed and stepped to the side, making room for Nessa to back away and move off with him.
[Decker Rohl] Decker nods at Nessa, a slight lift of his chin in the kin’s direction as she (presumably) begins to move away with her tribesman. “Same reason I took her.” And he takes a last hit, lowers his head and grinds the joint out on the concrete step beneath him.
[Nessa] She is done on so many levels tonight. Needs a long hot soak in a tub, followed by dark chocolate so intense the smell could take out both her dogs. A bottle of vodka maybe, or at least enough to knock her totally out.
Nessa turns, walks off straightbacked into the darkness in roughly the same direction she was headed before the interruption. Joshua might come too. Hopefully, her friends will understand why she says nothing in the way of farewells.
[AnneMarie Hoch] Consider that other brow lifted. She doesn’t stop Nessa, or say anything to Loki – well, not that she would anyway. Kendra’s question, on the other hand gets another lifted brow and something like amusement. Or something. Feathers briefly do their mental flutter, then still.
[Decker Rohl] (agh. amendment)
Decker nods at Nessa, a slight lift of his chin in the kin’s direction as she (presumably) begins to move away with her tribesman. “Same reason I took her.” And he takes a last hit, lowers his head and grinds the joint out on the concrete step beneath him. The smoke-narrowed grey eyes level on Kendra. “Same reason I woulda taken you, if you needed it.” Flicker of a smirk. “Fer three months, anyhow.”
[AnneMarie Hoch] Some concern. Her loyalty was nothing when the chips were down.
Some are loyal forever, no matter what. AnneMarie is clearly one of those.
to Decker Rohl
[Decker Rohl] ‘s a matter’a duty, Decker replies, not fitness.
to AnneMarie Hoch
[Joshua Volaschky] Joshua made no fairwels, for no other reason as he had non to give. Those he would have farewelled, he had said goodbye to. Goodbye, completion, finality, an end.
Cut away, severed.
He sighed and simply turned on his heals to slowly step after the kin. Like a shadow he had become of what once he was, silent wraithlike form of rage enbodied darkness.
[AnneMarie Hoch] On our end, yes. On hers… She is weak. She left them to strike on her own. Or to return to the Shadow Lord. Her concern is fake and… weak.
Disgust. So plain.
to Decker Rohl
[Kendra Peterman] Kendra was not amused.
This showed in a crease of lines between her eyebrows as they knitted together. In how her lips, so rarely as they do, pressed together, tightening to restrain a flow of harsh and stinging words that would no doubt land her dead on the sidewalk if she allowed them free into the air. She didn’t watch Agnessa and Josh leave. Didn’t look to make sure Joe was still there. Wouldn’t look at the Mule or the Rotagar. Simply wouldn’t. Rather, she kept her gaze, dark and steadily darkening, on the Adren.
She took in a deep breath, steady and cleansing, then spoke slowly and carefully. “I asked why, sir. Why. Not who, not how long. Why.”
[Nessa] (Gngiht all! see you sunday! Out of town tomorrow!)
to AnneMarie Hoch, cricket, Decker Rohl, Joseph Morgan, Joshua Volaschky, Kendra Peterman, Loki, snailette
[Decker Rohl] While Kendra thought about it, Decker absently rubs a thumb over his windchapped lower lip. There’s a cut on it from some earlier alleybrawl or other. It stings to the touch. He pulls his thumb back and turns it to the light. Looks to see if there’s blood on it — a lazy, impersonal sort of curiosity.
Kendra speaks again. His eyes flick up to hers.
Silence is not amused, either.
“Ain’tcher place ta question me, little girl.” There is blood on his thumb. He smears it between thumb and forefinger, wiping it away into the other grime that coats his fingertips. “‘specially when I jus’ told tha kinwoman why with you standin’ five feet away.”
[Kendra Peterman] “All I heard was you interrogating her ’bout whether she loved Baaku ‘r not. Tellin’ her he died so honorably on his feet. Heard yeh offerin’ t’take ‘er in an’ protect ‘er.” Her upper lip curled in a bit of a snarl, flashing flat, pretty little white teeth without her even completely realizing it. This really was getting to be a bad habit, this teeth-showing business. Her muscles tensed, soft rain drizzled and slid over the orange hood of her T-shirt, and she kept her eyes steady on Decker.
“Fer Evan t’come under yer wing, he had t’leave Maelstrom, didn’ he, Decker?”
Tense and protective, injusticed and betrayed. All these rang in her voice. And Rage. The young woman’s voice positively trembled with that. Quaked where her body would not, and not just under the influence of the fat and lazy Gibbous moon, but from still-sharp hurts of loss. From a lack of compensation, punishment, or enforcement.
[Decker Rohl] “You show yer teeth at me again,” Decker promises her softly, “I’ll break you in half.”
[Loki] “Yeh, he did, Throat Rippa, Evan chose tae leave. Jus’ loike ye did when ye left yer own pack behind.” The Rotagar says in a flat tone of voice, no real emotion conveyed in his expression, just narrow-eyed as he watched her.
[AnneMarie Hoch] A step closer. That’s all it is. Rage thrums in the Galliard, and AnneMarie puts herself into the edges of the girl’s view into her peripheral vision. It’s deliberate. It’s intentional. Only her alpha can hear the irritation however. Which is how it should be. Outwardly, she is impassive. Stoic even.
[Joseph Morgan] Thing was, Kendra didn’t have to look to make sure Joseph was still there. It made no difference if he was standing three feet behind her or if he’d decided to turn around and go home without her. He was ‘there’, in the way that mattered, even if he walked away. At least he had the good sense and the self-respect to not reach out and plead with Kendra to just let it go and leave. C’mon, baby, just drop it, baby…
His shoulders were relaxed. It was entirely possible (likely, definite) that it took some degree of mental effort to keep them that way when faced with the Rage of two Ahrouns, a Galliard, and a Ragabash standing on a sidewalk not five feet from him. Even when Decker threatened (warned) Kendra. She had called him -rhya, and Joseph actually did know what that meant. Even when the other, the short-haired woman, stepped forward. Even when Lachlan poked at her with his words.
Joseph had backbone. He took a breath, not an overly deep one, and it sighed softly as it left him.
[Kendra Peterman] For a moment, her heart trembles at the threat–, no, the promise. Hell, it wasn’t even a promise. It was a statement of a fact, wasn’t it? Simple as scientific fact, she did that again, she would have the senses knocked out of her for a solid week. She knew this. So she didn’t show her teeth again. But damn was that hard. Her chin fell a little lower, shadowing her eyes under the faint ridge of her brow, and she swallowed hard, swallowing back a rough human growl.
Loki’s voice touched her ears, and that trembling Rage snapped, if only briefly. “I ain’ said SHIT t’you, Loki! Mind yer own fuckin’ business! Last I checked, Eagles ain’t yer pack! Last I checked, ain’ none’a this yers! Back down, ‘n stay there!” Slim muscles were clenched, wanting to leap. Her teeth and fingertips itched, begging to be made fangs and claws to tear into battle. Every joint ached for action, her body longed for kill. But it was resisted. With fury still rolling hot off her body, she looked back to Decker.
“I jus’ wanna know why, s’all. Please.”
[Raven] *He rather disliked flying in the rain. It wasn’t at all like flying in normal skys. Totally weighed down his feathers and made for all around misriable transpertation. Still. The sky was vast, water was wet and a bird had to fly.
Tonight he’d winged out over Cabrini, looking for things of interest, if nothing else, the Green was always interesting.
The black bird flew against the dark clouds at night, peering down on the world.*
[Decker Rohl] Poor Loki. That was, what, the third time he got shouted at to mind his own business? And the second time, at least, that his presence defused something that could’ve otherwise become very dangerous indeed. Decker’s eyes flicker to the Rotagar, then to the female Modi. Perhaps for the first time, he sees the pattern that has been laid, three Fenrir and one Fianna; the conclusions, correct or otherwise, that might be drawn.
And he gives a slight tilt of his head away. A subtle gesture that says any of several things. Stand down, or, it’s alright, or maybe, mind yer own business.
Kendra again, then. A long regard. Thoughtful, perhaps.
“Ya don’t honor nobody by beggin’, L’il-Throat-Ripper. Least’a all yerself.” He lowers his hand to his knee and comes to a decision. “I did it fer honor. We took the Alpha’a the Hounds. I gave one back if they wanted it. The Ragabash ‘n the Fiann Philodox chose ta stand on they own. The Gaian chose ta follow.”
[Kendra Peterman] Her eyes narrowed, hardened even further if that was possible. She regarded Decker for a long while, rolling his words over in her head. Rage swelled higher in her chest, to nearly a bursting point, but for the sake of preservation, and maybe a little for the sake of the Kinfolk man that was accompanying her, she did not release it. She held it tight, even though it did hurt and ache to do so.
After a minute, she nodded and muttered. “Thanks.” Then she turned, hands shoving themselves hard and deep into the stomach pocket of her hoodie T-shirt, and moved to part from the group, back in the direction that she had come originally with Joseph.
[Decker Rohl] “L’il Throat Ripper.” — he calls her back, if briefly. His grey eyes scour her. “Why’dja ‘bandon yer pack?”
[Loki] Loki’s mismatched eyes become slits, pinged on the little Fianna as she snaps at him; his lips pull back into a grin. Decker gives him a look to stand down, the Rotagar would defer to it and not say anything, because Decker told him so and not because of Kendra’s outburst at him.
[Raven] *Keen eyes pick out some people he knows, so he dips a wing, spirals once and then descends. Fluttering down between raindrops to land on a power line or the like nearby. Folding his wings and peering down. Black bird, against a dark rain filled sky.*
[Joseph Morgan] His eyes went again to Decker as the man spoke. Tense as he was, and ignoring all the reasons he could come up with just leave despite that, Joseph had an ear for all the voices that kept joining in on this. He noticed that the one off to the side hadn’t said anything whatsoever yet, but that could just be her…thing. Even when sorely on edge, Joseph could pay very close attention to people, even if he didn’t always understand (these days) why they said or did the things they did, what their motivations might be. To him, lately, it was merely a matter of patterns. Behavioral cues.
So she’d dragged him out to Cabrini-Green, hoping to find some little park and ‘teach him to fight’. The unexpected encounter tonight, however, was all about standing down and holding back. Well, that was a type of fighting that he was already acquainted with.
Kendra started to move back towards him, so Joseph shifted his weight on his feet as if to turn and go with her. He paused, though, when Decker spoke her name – her other name – again. He knows the answer to this question. Joseph looks from the Big Fucker to the Throat-Ripper, wondering if she’ll really tell him.
[Kendra Peterman] Sadly, the girl didn’t get far. She got no chance to put distance between her and the Fenrir, enough that she could kick walls and trashcans, lift dumpsters and toss them into fences, to roar and scream ’till her throat was raw and her Rage well was dry. She had made it to Joe’s side, a few steps from there, before Decker’s voice, low and rumbling, reached her. She stopped, and her shoulders hunched in tension.
Then, with a quiet sigh, they dropped again and she turned to half-face Decker, showing him her shoulder, a side-profile of her body, then turning her head the rest of the way so he got a three-quarters view of it rather than the full image. In a voice that was low, slow, and steady from restraint, she answered.
“Astrea wasn’ fer me. Maelstrom… Obviously it ain’ supportive of proper justice–” Her eyes flicker, snap, quiver, briefly touch AnneMarie, then snap immediately back to Decker. “…’r th’truth of th’Litany. Overlooks certain rules in preference’a self-preservation o’er Truth ‘n Judgment. ….Baaku made th’pack that. Evan wasn’ strong ‘nough t’lead. We wasn’ connected as a pack. As friend? Certianly. As a pack t’fight t’gether? …No. Wasn’ a proper pack no more, an’ I ain’ gonna chain m’self t’somethin’ broken wi’h no hope of repair. …Tried tha’ already.”
[Decker Rohl] The corner of Decker’s mouth lifts at that, sardonic, knife-edged. He says nothing. He lets her go.
[AnneMarie Hoch] Those eyes snap to her, and AnneMarie meets them head on. They touch, quiver, and AnneMarie’s pale gaze is stone. A tilt of her head lifts her chin. The meaning is likely unclear to the girl, but that is fine. Many things are.
Shoulders roll her jacket into better position across her shoulders. Then she falls still and watches Kendra walk away.
[Raven] *Well. Tonight he was in his Raven form. A form that he absolutely loved. Except, you know, when he had to fly though rain.
Raven form, a bird, avian, obsidian black.
Black beak? Check, peck your eyes out man.
Black Feathers? Check, all over and to hell and back. Nicely groomed too, save for being a bit tacky from the rain.
Black feets? Yep, two, with black talons to scratch your eyeballs from your head if you got too close. A red woven band around the right ankle for told whom he was, to those in the know, a dark tungsten band around the left ankle, chimerage to a spirit.
Black Eyes, yep, better to see you with. he had lil black ears under his feathers too, not that anyone ever really saw them.
Black wings? Well yes, black feathers on them. A pretty impressive wing span when he soars too, but they’re folded up tight tonight, huddling against the cool rain.
Tilting his head a little he watched the bi-play between the monsters below. Not that he counted himself out of that group mind you. He was just a some what slightly more civilized breed of monster. One that watched. The ultimate voyeur.*
[Kendra Peterman] Her arms tuck close to her body, pressing against the sides of her torso, and something flashes in her eyes when Decker merely smirks at her defense.
A glimmer, a wetness of emotion. She turned her head before the three Fenrir could see clearly what it was.
She said nothing more. Heat washed over her body, sweat forming a thin layer over her skin despite the cool drizzle, and her shoulders slouched again. Her head hanged, for a second, then she lifted her chin even with the ground and walked.
[Loki] “I think some day yer goin’ learn, Throat Rippa, there’s many faces tae what’s considered justice. Everybody has their own point o’ view on what’s proper and wait ain’t. Ye jus’ wasn’t capable o’ makin’ everyone see yer brand o’ it.”
[Loki] (*wait=what ain’t)
[Joseph Morgan] Baaku.
Time to mourn.
Flicker, snap, quiver, briefly touch…the other female.
Justice.
A shallow line cut across his brow, a faint furrow of thought. He was looking at a board covered in disconnected, pinned-up notes, with lengths of string in his hand. Put it together, said a voice in his head that used to be better at this. Unfortunately, what it took to really understand what was going on behind the voices and eyes of those gathered (prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet) was something Joseph had burned out of himself as though it were an infection. He stood at a loss to parse it all into a cohesive whole that really made sense.
He didn’t know these people. He might never, and in some cases that seemed like it was probably for the best. But he did…sort of…know Kendra, and it distracted him to no end that half of what had been said made no sense to him, it was so out of context. Joseph looked back at Decker, AnneMarie, and Loki, and he gave a single nod. Hadn’t introduced himself or said a word, but he did that. It was primarily aimed at the Ahroun-that-he-didn’t-know-was-an-Ahroun, if only because he stood at center, and then he turned and fell into step with Kendra.
[Decker Rohl] Eventually Kendra (and her shadow — a man Decker had barely noticed, but notices now as he walks away: older by far than the girl; older than Loki, than AnneMarie, than Decker; old enough to have spent longer in the Garou Nation than any of them could reasonably hope to) get far enough away that they turn a corner, or simply become indistinct.
The Modi picks up his crushed joint and flicks it out into the gutter where the next rainstorm will wash it away. He dusts his fingers off on his jeans — grime, ash, dried blood, fuck knows what else — and then addresses Loki.
“Why’dja taunt tha widow?”
[Kendra Peterman] What Loki had to say was not ignored, but it wasn’t responded to either. He was right, she knew. But she also knew that if she turned now to try and speak with him, even though it sounded like the Rotagar was reaching out with words shed of their animosity, she knew she would just argue. Argue that her brand of judgment was right, that the Sept was cowardly to not realize this, to not take the proper steps to uphold the Litany sternly as they boasted they would do when they punished the members of Tiburon’s Shadow. …But, if she did that, this would give them ground to argue that it was wise to break from the Sept, and she simply couldn’t stand and listen to that. She couldn’t be swayed from her loyalty, she refused to.
She walked. She and Joe rounded a corner, out of sight, out of hearing range of the three Fenrir. She took six complete steps up the new sidewalk about this curve of a building, then, without warning, twisted at the waist, Abruptly, her arm was extended, and her fist was thrown into the brick wall that framed the sidewalk with all her might.
Tiny hand bones buckled and snapped wetly, and hot pain surged up her wrist and into her arm. But she stood, eyes wet, fist still touching the wall, knuckles scraped and bleeding, muscles tense. She breathed hard, attempting to exhale the Rage that she had set flowing and leaking with her punch to the wall.
[Loki] “Defuse tha situation.” He says with a release of breath from his lungs that comes out in a sigh. A hand lifted to scratch through the shaggy hair that fell into his face, shoving parts of it away from his eyes to regard Decker.
“I’ve been ‘round, Nessa, been close tae her. Only thing she’s likely tae do is stab me again.”
[AnneMarie Hoch] She says nothing. What a shock. She only stops following the path of the Galliard and her companion when she turns the corner and is out of sight. Even then, she remains looking in that direction for half a beat.
Until Silence asks his question, and the Rotager answers. Her attention drawn to them, she remains silent (oh! surprise!) and listens.
[Decker Rohl] Decker squints down the street. Just something to fix his eyes on while he thought about it, chewed on it and all that shit. “Perty fuckin’ cruel way ta do it,” he comments at last.
[Decker Rohl] (if i’m not in bed in 10 min, someone shoot me.)
[Raven] *He watched. Pondered then spread his wings. Taking flight again he soared off towards his house. It was almost 4am here in Chicago (5 am here in MI)) and the birdy needed some sleep*
[Joseph Morgan] To his credit, Joseph didn’t flinch when Kendra punched the brick wall. He’d actually been waiting for it. A lamppost, a mailbox, a wall…it didn’t matter. He had been hoping she’d get the first wave out of her system before they got to his apartment. There wasn’t much he worried about losing, but there was a very old and cared-for piano that he wouldn’t want to see bashed.
He did stop walking, though, and turned towards Kendra. His head tilted to the side, eyes going to her bloodied fist. There’s no smart aleck remark on his lips, and no offers of comfort, opinion, or advice. Joseph waited a moment, while Kendra grit her teeth against aching breaths, and then stepped forward and laid one hand on her left shoulder.
[Loki] “You consider that cruel?” he quirks an eyebrow, glancing off in the direction of Annemarie. “Life is cruel. Tha shite we deal wi’ is cruel. What doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger.”
And with that, he’s making hand gestures to Annemarie, left hand lifts in a closed fist to his ear, index and pinky extended out to imitate a phone, and he gesticulates with his right hand, waving it in the air between himself and the Female Modi, as if to say… call me. and simply grins at her.
[AnneMarie Hoch] She arches a brow, and studies Loki. and raises her hands. Fingers move in graceful gestures, though the message is almost certain to be misunderstood. American Sign Language is rarely spoken by those without the need.
The final gesture, however, is easily understood. A smirk, across her lips. Brief, then gone.
[Decker Rohl] That earns the Rotagar a snort. “Spare me tha moral’a tha story.”
He doesn’t have to look AM’s way to know she was giving off rude gestures. He knows her. For his part, he gets to his feet. His ass was starting to hurt from sitting on that step. His calloused hand briefly, familiarly claps onto his packmate’s shoulder. Then he’s moving off past her, back toward Eagle turf.
[AnneMarie Hoch] He knows her. The clasp on her shoulder brings her eyes to his briefly, before she simply nods a farewell. Sometimes, words aren’t needed. Fortunately for her.
[Kendra Peterman] Her breaths were harsh. Her chest did not rise when she inhaled, but instead contracted when she exhaled. Pushing the air out from her lungs with more force than what she was allowing it to enter with. Joe’s hand laid on her shoulder, and he could feel the heat radiating off her skin and through her shirt. Could feel the soft trembling of tension in her muscles. Palpable in the air, he could feel her Rage and her frustration.
Her broken hand left the wall, lifted, and touched to her forhead. “They’s traitors… Left th’sept… Th’woman kilt Baaku… …An’ all tha’ smug, arrogant beast can do is smirk.” Her voice is thick from emotion and swallowed tears that she refused to show the world if it killed her. A deep, shakey breath was taken, and she dropped her hand from her face, letting it dangle at her side knowing that the blood would be trapped down there, that the pain would increase from such, that she would feel the throb even worse than what she did already.
Her other hand lifted, fingertips touching lightly to Joe’s knuckles at her shoulder, then just rested there as she let her weight tip forward ’till she was resting with her forehead pressed against the brick wall. So she could feel the cold on her heat-flushed face, so she could smell the damp brick instead of her own anger and sweat. So she could recover herself.
[Loki] A sound crackles in his voice, wrapped in its deep baritone state, a rush of air from exhale from his lungs in some kind of hoarse chuckle, which eventually breaks into a cackle. Hard to say what he was laughing about, but the sly wink he gives Annemarie is endearing. He tips a two-fingered salute to the Silent Modi, blows her a kiss and spins on his heels to dance away across the street, back into the shadows.
[AnneMarie Hoch] Amusement flickers across her features briefly, as she watches Loki wander off into the shadows. Then, she simply turns, and heads back to Eagle turn via a different path then that of her Alpha.
[Decker Rohl] (thanks for the RP, folks!)