[Rory] (tag you’re it!)
[Edwin Morr] ((bah!))
[Edwin Morr] ((Blur))
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 4, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 5 at target 8)
[Edwin Morr] ((Sneaking through alleys))
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 3, 3, 5, 5, 6, 6, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Edwin Morr] A light snow fell upon the portion of the city called Chinatown, making sounds seem muted under the soft crunch of forming ice as the snow was compacted ever more tightly. People moved, huddled against the frozen water from the sky, several days late of a white Christmas within this, the Windy City. Some were returning gifts that were not right for them. Others were taking advantage of after Christmas sales. Some were taking advantage of those taking advantage of such opportunities. Crime never slumbered, nor did it take vacations. There was indeed no rest for the wicked.
One such wicked creature moved as a wraith through the darkness of Chinatown’s alleys. The shadows seemed to cling to him, grabbing at him, as though he did not belong to the world of garish light but rather that of purest darkness alone. As though his time was not that where a heavy, fat Moon stared down like some lidless eye to illuminate his misdeeds, to show the myriad awful things he did and took pride in doing.
The people on the sidewalks, the predators that made them prey, avoided this creature, for in its wake was left the sensation of Rage without a place, a general malaise of unease followed him like a doppelganger. Edwin truly was a child of shadow, his dark humor and mysterious ways a means to an end unto themselves.
[Rory] She had said goodbye to alleycat, she had met another, taken to following a Totem that accepted her (shockingly, for the slender metis) as readily as did her previous Totem – but that doesn’t mean she’s forgotten the cats. She’d fed them for months, and she won’t let them starve now, out of respect for the one who led her, for the ones who depend on her.
So here she is again, feeding them, crouched by the mouth of the feeding Alley… confused. She’s got a piece of paper in her hands, hands that are slender, pale, and fragile looking – and cold, she has no gloves – hold tightly to the edges, as her brow furrows, deep, and she painstakingly attempts to sound out the words on the page.
It’s not going well.
There are letters she recognizes, there are numbers she’s seen, but making sense of it all is causing frustration to bleed off her – further intensified by her moon riding swollen in the sky above.
“ffffff…. i? Fi….”
[Edwin Morr] Edwin ghosts up behind her, even the cats ignorant of the blurry form’s approach. He dances and weaves between them, wraith-like and deadly, until his head is right beside Rory’s, his head almost upon her shoulder, as he too considers the letter.
After several moments reading it, he drops the blur, and waits for her to notice him.
[Rory] It’s not that the note is difficult to read – well, for anyone other than Rory, and when Edwin looks over her shoulder, he deciphers it easily enough. [Rory Loves. Can you fix a washin machine? Gina 555-5555] There’s nothing that sets her off on his presence, the cats sensing only her own rage, which eclipses Edwin’s easily, her frustration aiding it in filling the alley.
She’s been connected to the totem only a short while, is focused elsewhere, and as such it takes her a long moment to recognize that anyone is nearby, let alone with their head practically propped on her shoulder. When she does realize he’s there, she jumps and scurries back out of the way before it registers who it is, eyes wide in fright, rage spiking dangerously…
[Edwin Morr] “Easy doll… I’s jes’ seein’ whutcha’s upta. Ain’ no need ta git all riled up o’er li’l ol’ me.”
That said, the ghost that is Edwin Morr moves to sit near the kittens where he’d done his houdini act on Rory. Grinning that sly, lopsided grin, he considers one of the kittens and scratches it behind the ears idly.
He speaks without looking at her, simply considering the kitten while scratching.
“I git dis feelin’ yer havin’ trouble wit’ dat letter dere.”
[Rory] It still takes a moment for his voice to filter through, for it to make sense, as she batters back the rage that wants her to explode, to fight, to rendteardestroy… It’s Edwin. It’s her new Alpha. She crouches, presses her back against the brick wall, her fingers tight, tight, tight curled into fists as she pushes it all back, as she exerts the control she wields so easily under most circumstances.
It takes a moment, maybe even too, but then she is able to breathe again, and then exhale a huffed breath she didn’t know she was holding. “You shouldn’t sneak thike lat!” On her, she means. She reaches up to tug her hat down further over those curls, and that’s when he mentions the note.
She lifts her hand where she’d crumpled it, color splashing across her cheeks. Embarrassment tinged with shame as she nods, slightly. “I…can’t read go sood.” And then, timidly, she holds the note out to him. “Will you melp he?”
As always – she hears what she intends to say, not what she does.
[Edwin Morr] “Shore will… Happy ta do so.”
He grins, slyly but not unkindly, and tilts his head, recalling the contents of the letter. Then, he pats the ledge beside him.
“C’mere. We’ll read’t tagether so’s ya c’n see how th’letters fit up wit’ th’words.”
Then, he returns to scratching the kitten behind the ears… his grin turning sly.
“As fer sneakin’ up, it’s m’way uh doin’ thangs. Ain’t likely ta change. But ’tain’t ‘thout uh good reason. Ya need ta always ‘mem’er dat…. Nuthin’ I do I does ‘thout uh good reason.
Especially if’n it ain’t pleasant fer dem whut’s m’packmates.”
He sighs, as though considering how much to tell.
“Sneakin’ up lets me see whut’s whut a’fore I stick m’neck out where m’head can git lopped off. Lets me fig’re th’lay uh th’lan’, so’s ta speak. As yer in th’pack longer, you’ll git used ta feelin’ where we are, ruther’n relyin’ on yer eyes. Dat’s th’better way uh doin’ thangs anyway. Don’ trust yer eyes… They git misled way too easy.”
With that, Edwin shakes his arm slightly… Performed properly, it would seem like a knife magically appears within his fingers from nothingness, rather than from its spot up his sleeve.
((Making knives appear from nothingness; sleight of hand
Dex + Streetwise + Fox, Diff = 6, dex specialized))
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 5, 5, 7, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Rory] He tells her to come closer and sit with him, and she doesn’t hesitate. She moves over, and settles to the ledge, listening as he continues to talk, and the kitten rubs itself closer to his hand. Her own kitten appears a little later, hopping up on her backpack, and settling under her curls in a content purring bundle. They’ve full bellies, and with the lack of scent that marks them animals, with the months to get used to Rory’s rage, the kittens are content enough to stay close, while the others fight for food and then wander off as they get their fill.
She nods her understanding, and then tips her head slightly at his magic trick with the knives, smiling shyly. “I don’t have any tricks. Must je.”
[Edwin Morr] “Well, tricks ain’t why Fox wanted ya… Whut I hear, she’s happy ta have jes’ you. Seems I’m uh might fond uh dat ta boot.
‘Cause truth is, I got folk whut can do all sorts uh tricks. Whut I needs from ya is somebody whut can be mighty quiet an’ bring th’pain. Whut I hear tell, yer mighty good fer dat. So… All ya gotta be’s jes’ you, an’ we’ll get along fine.”
Edwin grins, and the knife finds its way back to its scabbard up his sleeve. Then, he turns his attention to her letter, and with a finger traces the words as he speaks its content.
“‘T says ‘Rory loves… C’n ya fix uh washin’ machine? Gina 555-5555′”
Edwin then turns to Rory curiously, that sly grin playing about his lips.
“Don’t rightly reckon I knew you were good fer fixin’ stuff.”
[Rory] She flushes, blushing brightly as he mentions Fox being happy to have her, for his feeling the same way. She ducks her head, hiding behind her curls, the shy little smile appearing and lingering as she does so. She isn’t on who’s had much acceptance from anyone in her life – and as much as she adored Chloe, and even Elliot in some way, she didn’t expect to find anything close to it – not ever again.
She nods to his explanation, and rubs absently at the side of her nose, considers telling him something, then lets it slide as he reads the note again, showing her the words. “Fix!” that’s the word shew as so stuck on, and she sighs, frustrated…
…until he mentions her tinkering, and she grins that shy little grin one more. She tugs her pack off her back – giving the kitten a moment to resettle on her shoulder before she opens it and digs inside, searching for her latest success. She tugs out a little box – a music box, the outside still battered and worn. There’s no way it should work, but when she lifts the lid, the tinny song plays perfectly.
“I tinker. Small stuff, mostly. thimple sings, small machines. Like.. roffee, or cadiator heaters.” She points to the note. “Mashing wachines take longer, but dan co.”
She pauses, hesitates shyly and then… “Growing up, bocked in lacement. Tinkered to tass pime.”
[Edwin Morr] Edwin nods, brow furrowing in thought.
“Who keptcha dere?”
His eyes remain focused on the music box for a few moments, just watching it with fascination as the little machine that shouldn’t did exactly what it was designed to do, in spite of itself rather than because of it.
“Now dat’s uh neat trick… Yer more’n whutcha seem, Rory. Don’ let nob’dy tell ya differ’nt.”
[Rory] She shrugs. “Warders. Elders.” She glances up at him, then away, and then repeats it before she finally holds out a pale hand, palm up, fingers splayed at first, until she curls her fingers loosely, showing her nails. Even in this form they’re pale, fragile, broken, barely there. It’s almost as if she has no nails at all.
“They thought I’d die – unprotected.” and shame laces the admittance afterwards… “Clo naws.” She shrugs, again. “Had to adapt. Thespite dem.”
She runs her fingers over the music box, and her smile returns again, still shy, as ever, still hidden under the duck of her head. “I like to tinker. Keeps bands husy.” A beat, and then. “An useful when mad. Tore apart asshole’s xbox at hotherbrood other night.” She rubs at he side of her head, briefly, a shadow crossing her face at the memory of that night.
[Edwin Morr] Edwin nods, and sighs…
“Well, ya don’t seem bitter ’bout it, but I cain’t see’s ’twas all dat happy’n upbringin’. Reckon yer due fer livin’ life ta th’fullest uh spell.”
He grins again, slyly as always… One such as he cannot help but dissemble, it was his very nature to do so. However, that said, the grin wasn’t unpleasant… Only just tinged with the dark nature of the waning moon.
“Y’know… Seems ta me I tol’ somebody sum’in’ ta dat effect not all dat long ago. Dat ol’ saw ’bout idle hands bein’ th’Devil’s playgroun’. Glad ta see ‘tleast one other person gits m’sayin’s.
Sometimes I won’er ’bout dese city folk. Seems like most of’em’s given up deir common sense when dey gits city water’n stuff.”
He chuckles at his own joke, still grinning slyly.
“D’ya know th’asshole’s name? An’ whut e’sactly was it he done whut made ya give ‘is xbox th’goin’ over?”
[Rory] “I’m mule. Why be bitter? It’s the punishment for my sarent’s pin.” She shrugs, as if it’s simply the way of things. She never knew to expect any different, no tales of happy family, nothing to make things easier. She’s metis. It’s her due.
But then to Alex. The smile fades and her brow furrows. “Alex. Mas wean. When I hold Tatchet about Elliot. So I hoke bris xbox.” She lifts a skinny shoulder in a shrug, closing the music box and putting it back into her pack. There’s some little girls at Keron’s mission who might like the little toy. “Neft lote. He apologizes, I’ll fix it.”
Of course, she can’t write any better than she can read. She shudders, briefly. “Ezra wrote it more fe. Then HE mas wean.” Frustrated, as she rubs at her head where there was a curl cruelly yanked from her scalp.
[Edwin Morr] When she mentions Alex, Edwin’s sly grin turns dark, a touch of the hangman’s jape coloring the sharp features. When he speaks, it’s unclear to which, or whether to both, the statement applies.
“Yeah… He’s dat fer shore.”
Edwin seems to consider for a few moments, before speaking again.
“As fer yer lot, seems ta me yer folks’s th’ones whut oughta be payin’ fer deir own sins, ‘stead’uh you. Never quite un’erstood why our kind’s so quick ta punish th’kid fer whut th’parents done. But ’tis good if’n y’ain’t bitter. I know many folk whut would be.”
He scratches a cheek absently, the peach fuzz that wasn’t quite worthy of the term stubble making sandpaper sounds as he does so.
“As fer Alex, don’chew worry ’bout ‘im. He’s makin’ mighty high debts. If’n yer xbox was all ya broke, reckon I don’t see no need fer ya ta fix’t. Let ‘im do’t on ‘is own dime an’ time.
Dat said, if’n I knows Ezra ‘tall, he di’n’t do dat jes’ ta be char’table. So whu’d he want fer helpin’ ya?”
[Rory] She tips her head, slightly, watching him as he speaks. He’s full of shadows and sin and sly grins and she finds it infinitely curious, interesting. He’s not quite like any Shadowlord she’s ever met before.
Ezra, however. The frown returns and she belatedly pulls her fingers down from her hair, her curls, and nods. “A favor. He’ll tell me later what we hants.” She’s uneasy about it, but it can’t be too much, right? It was only a note… “then he mulled py hair out” and very, very softly, she admits “and sorced fubmission.. I shouldn’t have tried ro tesist.”
Shoulders slump, just a little, because she knows her place so very well – it’s hard to know when to stand up for herself, and when to back down. It clearly confuses her, and she worries, feels shamed that she continues to make what appears to be mistakes…
[Edwin Morr] Edwin nods, considering.
“Yeah, he seems uh might big on lettin’ others know who’s in charge. Pro’lem is, he ain’t top dog… But I reckon he’ll fig’re dat out soon ‘nough.
Still… When he asks ya ta do whutever ’tis he’s gonna wantcha ta do, mebbe ya c’n run’t past me first jes’ ta see ’tain’t sum’in’ I don’ want done. We’ll call dat th’price fer readin’ yer letter to ya.
An’ if’n ya got more letters down th’road whutcha need read, or writ… My spellin’ ain’t th’greatest, but I git by fair ‘nough. Mebbe you’ll lemme help y’out a’fore troublin’ Ezra, huh?”
Edwin grins that sly grin, and winks at her.
“An’ don’ sweat. He ain’t th’easiest ta fig’re, if’n ya catch m’drift.”
[Rory] She listens, and when he doesn’t berate her for standing up to the other Lord, she relaxes slightly, and agrees to his terms with a nod. “Ok.”
And then the shy little smile returns when he offers to help her if she needs reading or writing done again. He hasn’t given her grief for her obvious lack of education either, and with each thing that he simply accepts as being part of her total package, she trusts him even more. He knows her secret, he knows her weakness, and he knows her pride and strengths too.
And she blushes like crazy when he winks at her, ducking her head to hide behind her curls. Then something occurs to her… and she snaps her gaze up to his again. “….be’s hogeyman…”
And she drops her gaze, instantly, as soon as she realizes she’s staring. “…oh.” Oh dear. Her hand goes back to her head again, rubbing the spot that were she anything other than Mule, would still sting.
[Edwin Morr] “Not yet. Much as’e ain’t too terr’ble pleasant, he ain’t ‘thout ‘is uses. An’ once’e is, I’m’a keep uh close eye on’im.”
Edwin watches Rory with shaded eyes that may well be blue or gray; it was hard to tell within the darkness that veiled his forgettable facade. However, whatever the color, the expression wasn’t harsh.
“Yer worried if’n I let ‘im in, ya won’t git uh moment’s peace…? Or are ya scared of ‘im?”
[Rory] She wrinkles her nose, furrows her brow as she nods, yet tries to put it into words too. It’s extremely difficult when she doesn’t know when her words jumble, when she makes a mistake. Its clear she tries extremely hard to speak right – it just doesn’t work. Ever. Soon enough he’ll discover that her words are mixed up even across the mental link of Totem. She thinks carefully before she speaks, working it through her mind, taking her time.
“I can heat bim in a fight. If I don’t let him stare de mown first. I don’t want to fight a mack pate though. I won’t, if I don’t tave hoo. Fox has reason for accepting us. He’s do nifferent.”
A pause, and then very softly. “I don’t want it to be hike lome.” The basement, she means. He frightens her, on some core level – and on another she was raised to believe she deserves it, and still believes it, as old habits die hard. “I don’t want it to lurt hike home.”
But even so, there’s the sense that she would take her lumps to be with Fox, to follow with Edwin. Her encounter with Her touched something deep inside, and she won’t lose that now.
[Edwin Morr] “Well, if’n I got anythin’ ta say ’bout it, it ain’t gonna be like dat. While I ain’t so much fer packmates fightin’, if’n’e pushes ya too hard, ya lay into ‘im an’ don’t let up ’til he cain’t fight back no more. Dat said, I’m uh keep an eye on dat fella, uh close eye… He steps out, you may be pullin’ me off’n ‘im.”
Edwin grins, an expression equal parts good natured cheer and dark amusement. Then, he shrugs.
“Whutever ’tis he’s up to, I know dis much. I’d ruther have ‘im as uh packmate. He’s cunnin’, connivin’, dirty… An’ I git ta choos’n ‘tween uh feller whut fights hon’rable an’ one whut don’t ta guard m’back… I’ll take th’feller whut fights dirty ever’ time.
Honor’s uh trap. An’ given whut we are, whut we do, it don’t make no sense ta slave ta keep neither. Fox knows dat. Dat’s why she’ll take ‘im, even wit’ ‘is faults.”
Edwin sighs… scratching idly at that peach fuzzed cheek again.
“Lemme put it ta ya dis a’way. If’n I git kil’t, I need ta know dere’s somebody in th’pack whut’s jes’s connivin’ an’ un’erhanded as me. If’n I don’t, when I git kil’t, y’all may jes’ suffer fer it.
Dat ain’t sum’in’ I wanna see, dead’r no. So I’m’a git ‘im fer Fox, so’s y’all ain’t got ta worry ’bout gittin’ had once I’m crow feed. So I ain’t gotta worry ’boutcha.
Reckon I’ll have m’han’s uh might full once dey punch m’ticket ta Hell.”
Edwin grins wider, a rictus gesture. You might almost think he’s talking about a carnival, the way he so casually discusses his own mortality.
[Rory] He tells her if she’s pushed too far, to lay into him, until he can’t fight back. Her brows furrow slightly, but she nods, accepting that it’s ok to do so, to defend herself. “Ok.”
And then she listens closely to the rest he says – fighting dirty, guarding his back, and then… he speaks of dying, and the shadow crosses her face, and tears well in her eyes. Her wounds are still fresh, so fresh, and the thought of losing another Alpha, another pack, so soon pains her in ways that are clear in the depths of green eyes – if she’d lift them to his.
She doesn’t. Instead, she fights for the control she’s learned from so young an age, and pushes it back, pushes it down, slides the emotion away again. She has only one request when he speaks of his mortality “Jus… sot noon. OK?”
[Edwin Morr] ((Perception + Empathy, diff = 6 [wp]))
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 5, 5 (Success x 1 at target 6) [WP]
[Edwin Morr] He winks knowingly, and shrugs…
“Don’ sweat, doll… I’m uh sight busy ta go gittin’ kil’t jes’ yet. An’ ya c’n be shore I ain’t plannin’ ta go easy, whenever ’tis I run outta breaths.”
Then, a few moments pass in thought, and he speaks in a more conspiratorial tone, his voice becoming more quiet.
“‘Tain’t gonna be like las’ time, Rory. Dere’s folk yer packed wit’, folk whutcha ain’t met yet. If’n I do git pasted, yer not gonna be left in th’lurch.
Fox takes care uh ‘er own.”
[Rory] When it comes to times other than battle, she simply isn’t much of a leader. She was raised to do what she was told, when she was told, or suffer the consequences. Since coming to Chicago, it’s been a slew of new experiences and for Rory – it leaves her a little lost, at times. Edwin – as New Alpha – is picking just the right words.
She smiles a little, shyly, rubbing alongside her nose as she nods. “Ok.” He says it won’t be like last time. She believes him.
Then, softly. “Who else is pack?”
Names to put with the voices she will surely soon hear in her head.
[Edwin Morr] “Well, like I don’ tol’ya, we started wit’ Javi… Reckon he ever comes back, yer liable ta git uh new voice’n yer head. Kink-tailed Shadah Lord whut has uh reputation uh mile long…
Den dere’s uh guy named Eztli. Got ‘im packed jes’ a’fore he went on some spir’t quest’r some such… Ain’t felt ‘im rollin’ ‘roun’ m’skull lately neither. But if’n he comes back, yer like’s not ta feel ‘im too.
Dere’s you…
Dere’s me…
An’ uh Get No Moon named Delmar Meister. Calls ‘imself Low Key. Feller seems nice ‘nough; I reckon you’ll like ‘im. He ain’t like Ezra. Seems solid, don’t talk too much. Got ‘isself some weird speech thang goin’; don’t rightly know much ’bout it.
At some point, Ezra’ll join us. An’ den, whoever else Fox fig’res worthy uh her time.”
Edwin nods, his thumb tapping his fingers as though he were counting to be certain. Then, shaded eyes return to the Full Moon coppertop before him.
“So, right now yer likely ta feel me’n Delmar, mostly…”
He looks around a bit, as though considering something.
“So…. Where ya stayin’ dese days, if’n ’tain’t th’packhouse an’ ’tain’t th’Brotherhood?”
[Rory] She listens carefully, filing away the names for voices she will hear later…
and then she smiles. Slow and sly and shy as she hides behind those curls. “Dow Knelmar. Kicked his ass for calling we meak.”
Actually, she kicked two Fenrir asses that day, for doing so, and she doesn’t seem worried in the least bit that she couldn’t do it again. She could, and she would. “De heserved it.”
[Edwin Morr] Edwin nods, chuckling darkly… His head tilting to consider her with a sideways glance.
“If’n ya say so…”
Then he shrugs, as though it was a matter of no consequence. As though, without complaint to him from Delmar, it was a matter already settled. Or as though he was content to let the Bogeymen fix their own problems within the pack, unless it was called upon him to settle it for them.
Whatever the case may be, it was clear he had no intention of micro-managing.
“Y’never did answer m’other question… Where’re ya livin’ dese days?”
[Rory] She shrugs, and grins up at him, and then flushes bright as she’d forgotten the other question, lost briefly in the memory of kicking Delmar’s behind for calling her weak. Of all the things to call a Fenrir.
She points down the Alleyway a bit, where there’s a battered fridge box and lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “There.” She rubs her chin lightly, and then shoves her hands deep into the pocket of her too-thin jacket. “We were getting a hack pouse… before Elliot. I stayed there for a whittle lile. But…”
She shrugs, slightly. It’s not the same.
[Edwin Morr] Edwin turns to stare at the box… And then back at Rory. Then, his grin turning wry, he shakes his head.
“Wish ya’d said sum’in’ after ya met Fox…”
Then, with a sigh, he scratches one of the kittens behind the ear again and considers.
“Mighty col’ tonight… Howd’ja like ta live somewheres whut’s got electric heatin’ an’ hot runnin’ water? I’ll even let ya take uh cat’r two witcha…”
He shakes his head as though the thought of a pack house full of cats wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. Then shrugs, as though it didn’t matter.
Cats or no, Rory is pack.
[Rory] She shrugs, and wrinkles her nose a little. “I thidn’t dink about it. Makes the mink of Chloe here.” Then he talks of a place that’s warm, with hot water, which makes her eyes widen, and he can see the desire for it all – a place to call home – in green depths.
“I’d thike lat.” And she picks up ‘her’ kitten, the little bit of gray fluff that’s been shadowing her every move. “Just this one is ok. Me’s hine.”
She won’t overrun the place with cats – but it’s something familiar, something that’ll make it a little more her place too.
[Edwin Morr] “Fair ‘nough… Dis a’way.”
He stands, grinning at the kitten that now stared at him as though asking why he didn’t plan to continue. As he starts down the alley, Edwin’s voice sounds almost amused if quiet…
“Mebbe later.”
He leads her away from the slums, where the tenements were dirty and dying, toward the more main drag of Chinatown. Then, down one street, another, and another, until they end up before a small apartment building next door to a chinese restaurant.
“Keep ‘im hid while we go in. Di’n’t never ask after uh pet policy; di’n’t fig’re I needed ta. Dat said, I’d jes’ as soon skip th’drama if’n dey got one.”
[Rory] She unzips her coat, and tucks her kitten inside, letting it settle in a little purring ball against her belly, where the core heat of her rage abides. He’s been carried there often enough that he settles in and doesn’t think anything of it.
They end up to a small building next to a restaurant, startling Rory when they arrived as she had gotten lost at some point along the way – surprised to find herself in an area she recognizes finally. She’s begged for dinner at that restaurant before.
She zips her coat carefully to keep the Kitten hidden as she nods, and smiles. “He gides hood.”
[Edwin Morr] “Good. C’mon.”
He leads her around the building, pointing out the front entrance, and the fire escape, the windows that led into their apartment on the second floor. Then, walking back to the front door, he leads her up the stairs while speaking.
“I’ll gitcha key fer th’lock once we’re in.”
They stop before the door; there are chinese characters and a simple 2B on the door in corroded bronze. However, he produces no key for the lock. Instead, he waves his hands over the door handle, and speaks with a grin…
“Open sez me.”
((Open Seal))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 10, 10 (Success x 1 at target 7)
[Rory] Windows, fire escape, and entrance are all noted, so that she can find her way in and out through any of them, and follows him to apartment 2B, her hands curled around the bundle around her belly protectively. She nods as he mentions he’ll get her a key and then…
…opens the door without the aid of one himself. She tips her head, slightly, and studies the lock, and the knob, and then Edwin. “Trice nick, there.”
Though her grin slides into something teasing a minute afterwards. “Showing off?” Because if she could? She would, too.
[Edwin Morr] “Practice… Uh feller gits rusty if’n he don’t never practice.
Dat trick comes in handy ‘nough dat I don’t dare fergit th’doin’ of ‘t.”
He grins that sly grin, and with an overly grandiose gesture, waves her in. Following quietly, he shuts the door behind him before answering.
The room revealed beyond the door is largely sterile. There was a brown vinyl couch, some few mismatched plastic chairs, a cheap pressed wood dinner table. A small kitchen with rolling linoleum rested like a dark cavern off of the main room, the refrigerator humming idly. A closet was across the room, and a small hallway led past another dark cavern that was the bathroom and toward the bedrooms.
“Here’s home. Kitchen’s dat a’way, bathroom’s there… Bedrooms is back dere. We got 3 beds right now… I got one, Javi used ta, an’ Eztli. Dem two ain’t ’round, so we’ll putcha in Javi’s fer now. Jes’ don’t be surprised whutcha find in dere.
Even I ain’t so shore whut all he got stashed back dataway.”
[Rory] She moves inside, and looks around. There’s not a lot here, but she is the last person that would complain. Simply having a place that’s warm is a step up for her – and having a place that’s on the second floor, rather than being locked in a basement is still a novel experience.
She looks down the hall, hesitates a moment then moves that way to find the room where she’ll be staying. “I won’t nouch tothin…” Nothing of Javi’s that is. She is well used to making as little a splash as possible. She carries everything she owns with her, always. The most she’ll add – whatever project, pieces and parts she’s currently working on.
“It’s nice.” she smiles shyly at Edwin. “Warm.”
[Edwin Morr] “Touch away… He ain’t ‘roun’ ta complain. So far’s I’m concerned, if’n’e comes back an’ finds ‘is stuff in uh box by th’door, dat’s his pro’lem.
Mebbe next time ‘e up’n leaves, he’ll leave uh note ‘fore fallin’ off th’face uh th’Earth.”
Edwin grins as though making a joke, knowing full well Javi might or might not care, but not caring if he did. Still, for all his sentiment, there is no latent sense of frustration at Javier’s disappearance… Though there might be perhaps some trepidation or concern…
The note telling the lie to the devil-may-care attitude the sly No Moon showed the world.
“We’ll see ’bout gittin’ someplace bigger here ‘fore long. Or we’ll see ’bout rentin’ another’ne.
I like ta keep th’pack off’n th’street, but I don’t see’s I mind us livin’ in a few differ’nt places. Might keep us from bein’ compromised if’n one bunch gits found.
Yer room’s th’last one on th’right. Laundry’s downstairs; you’ll need quarters if’n yer plannin’ ta wash. Lemme know if’n ya run out…
An’ dere should be clean towels in th’bathroom by th’sink, if’n yer wantin’ uh shower.”
With that, Edwin turns to start toward the kitchen, locking the front door en route.
“I’m uh git uh drink. Want one?”
[Rory] She looks shocked at the idea, but then she peeks into the room and figures there might be something interesting in there anyway. “Never had a room of my own. Cept be thasement.” Being locked in a room isn’t quite the same as having the run of her own part of a house. It’s something to be gotten used too – something she’ll enjoy… eventually.
She looks over at Edwin, tipping her head slightly, curious as to his concern for the missing pack members. But she nods to the rest, and then with a slight smile. “Ples, yease.”
She finally slips her backpack from her shoulders, and drops it into ‘her’ room, before she follows back toward the kitchen, unzipping her coat so that her cat can take some time to explore and get used to the new place. “I’ll keep the window in ry moom open, so he can gome and co.”
[Edwin Morr] Edwin considers while walking to the kitchen, while opening the refrigerator idly, and withdrawing two bottles of water. Closing the fridge, he walks into the living room and shakes his head at Rory… Sliding one of the bottles across the dining table to the empty seat across from him.
“Only when yer home. He c’n stay inside if’n ya want; you’ll need ta fig’re out how ta keep him from crappin’ an’ peein’ all over, but I’m cool wit’ dat. But if’n yer sleepin’r gone, I want dat windah locked.
Some feller breaks in, I wanna hear ‘im crashin’ th’glass’r bustin’ th’screen. I ain’t big on gittin’ caught wit’ m’pants down in m’own dom’cile.”
Edwin nods, considering the cat idly.
“Whut’s’s name?”
[Rory] “I’ll het gim a box.” That’ll take care of the potty issues, and she takes the bottle of water with that same shy smile. “Thank you.” And somehow it encompasses everything.
She settles to the floor in the living room, so the kitten feels her near while he explores. She opens the bottle of water, takes a long swallow or four, and then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. What’s his name? “I dunno.” She hasn’t thought about it yet, truth be told. As she warms up, she peels out of that jacket, revealing that her clothing underneath is recently washed – at the brotherhood most likely. At least the top layer…
She watches the Kitten explore, and then grins. “Bruno.” Why? Who knows.
[Edwin Morr] “Yer welcome. Th’fridge’s filled wit’ whutever we all puts in’t. Ain’t no yers an’ mine, so if’n yer savin’ sum’in’, don’t put it dere. It’s communal…
Still, if’n ya want more’n water ta drink’r food ta eat ever’ so often, best bring some in ever’ now’n’gain.
An’ fer feedin’ Bruno th’cat dere.”
Edwin grins slyly at the cat, watching its exploration curiously.
“I do m’bes’ ta keep ahead uh most; since I’m th’only one livin’ here so far, dere’s food ta be had in th’cupboards. Mostly canned stuff… I don’t buy nuthin’ whut expires, e’sactly.”
[Rory] She nods, slightly. “I’ll help stet guff when I can.”
She doesn’t say how she’ll get them, or what she’ll do. She’s no qualms about stealing food when it’s needed, or begging for the same. Mostly, though, she barters. “A kinfolk, Coggie, works at a shoffee chop in the Green. Ge hives extras at closing – I fixed ris hadiator.”
She’s learned to scrounge, and scrounge well. Now, if only she knew how to cook… If she’s saving something special… she just shakes her head and smiles that shy little smile. “Never got spothing necial. Just normal stuff.”
[Edwin Morr] Edwin nods and grins.
“I ain’t askin’ fer much. I’m jes’ sayin’ as th’pack gits bigger, I cain’t feed th’whole wide world. Ain’t such uh pro’lem if’n it’s jes’ you’n me here so far. But if’n Delmar moves inta th’free room, an’ we gits Ezra… Gonna git mighty bare in th’cupboards if’n I’m feedin’ 4 plus me, instead’a jes’ me.
Speakin’ uh which, go git yerself sum’in’ t’eat outa th’cupboard. Yer ’bout ta turn ta dust’n’ blow ‘way on me. Cain’t have dat…”
He chuckles, taking another drink of the water in the bottle… The grin fading ever so slightly as he considers…
[Rory] She blushes, brightly, the color splashing across her cheeks as she stands and sets her coat aside, dutifully heading to the kitchen. “blon’t wow away!”
She moves quietly, stealthily, even now as if she’s trying not to attract attention. The cupboard doors are opened quietly, and closed just as gently, until she discovers something she recognizes. It’s not that she isn’t hungry, it’s not that she is a picky eater, it’s that it’s mostly canned – and if there’s no pictures, it takes a very long time.
However, she manages to find something, and after digging to find a can opener, she soon reappears in the living room – eating pork n’bean straight out of the can, with a piece of buttered bread on the side.
[Edwin Morr] “Good choice… ‘Sbetter warm.”
Edwin shakes his head and grins that liar’s grin, before standing and going into the kitchen. He gets out a pot and puts it on the stove. He turns the stove on HI and lets the burner warm up.
Then, returning to the dining table, he puts out a hand to take the can of beans.
“Here… Gimme dat.”
[Rory] It’s times like this where her lack of socialization, her lack of teaching is really evident. She’s so trusting, and so naive that it may be easy to take advantage of her. Unless, of course, one stinks of the wyrm, then all bets are off. Edwin doesn’t though, far from it, and she hands the can over without question, even as she blushes.
“I mon’t dind it cold…” But she’ll surely take it warmed up too, since he offered.
While she watches him, she thinks a moment, and then asks… “Does the pack have tinfolk ko watch?”
[Edwin Morr] Edwin chuckles with sincere amusement, shaking his head… Wry amusement, as he dumps the can of beans into the pot and begins stirring it with a spoon.
“Not e’sactly. I got some whut I looks after fer m’own selfish reasons… But no, ain’t no kin ‘roun’ ta guard.”
Edwin shakes his head, still stirring. His tone is quiet, and perhaps one of the voices in Rory’s mind would happen to whisper, ever so slightly…
~Not no more, anywho.~
The voice seemed almost… nostalgic. As though that hadn’t always been the case. A few moments pass in silence, before the beans reach a temperature Edwin considers warm enough. Then, with an approving nod while he tests a bit wiped from the spoon with his finger, he pours the beans into a bowl and puts bowl and spoon on the table before Rory.
“Col’ beans’ll do, but Ma always swore uh feller had ta have ‘isself uh warm meal ever’ once so of’en. Jes’ ta keep heat’n yer bones.
She always swore up’n down dat eatin’ only col’ food’d give ya pneumonia sooner’n not. Dat yer jes’ askin’ ta catch yer death uh col’…”
Edwin grins, and then blinks, as if he hadn’t realized something. Or had said more than he’d intended. The liar’s grin returns…
“Assumin’ evil fellers like me has mommas… Mebbe I dreamt it up.”
((I’m too evil for a mom. Believe it.
Man + Subterfuge + Fox, diff = 6))
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 6, 7 (Failure at target 6)
[Rory] She watches his every move, listens as he chats, her head tipped slightly as he seems to lose himself in his story of his mom – then try to cover it up. And failing miserably. She just ducks her head to hide that shy grin, the one that says she caught him. She doesn’t let on though, at least not much, as she grabs her spoon and starts to eat her now hot pork’n’beans.
She smiles her thanks up at him, and then digs in like she hasn’t eaten in days. Like as not, she hasn’t – much.
Only when she’s done gone through half of the bowl or so, does she look back up and point her spoon at him. “You mad a hom. I didn’t.”
Caught indeed.
[Edwin Morr] Edwin gives Rory a sideways stare, that sly liar’s grin as ever upon his lips.
“Bah… Did’r no, most’d never believe’t. But mum’s th’word, huh?
I gotta rep ta keep.”
And at this, Edwin chuckles and returns to the kitchen, to run some water in the pot and let it soak.
“Yeah, I had uh Ma… But th’less folk know ’bout my past, th’better off we’ll all be.”
[Rory] She just grins at him, and mimes zipping her lips closed, tossing away the key. “Your secret is safe mith we.”
She continues eating as she listens to him talk, watching as he cleans up. She’s curious, and absorbs every little bit he tells her, even those things he doesn’t – it’s just a little more insight to the man [beast] she now follows.
“They milled kine.” Her mom, she means. Unsurprisingly.
[Edwin Morr] Edwin nods, retaking his seat across her at the dinner table. After a long swig of the remaining water in his water bottle, he speaks again.
“They who? And why?”
As Rory seemed to be cataloging him, Edwin seemed to be likewise cataloging her. The No Moon’s job was to gather information… It seemed as though a lifetime spent doing so made it impossible to turn off. As though a life time of cataloging everyone else’s secrets made gathering still more an end unto itself.
[Rory] “Grand Elder.” She says it as if it’s something that happens everyday, something that she has no real attachment too, and in a way that’s exactly what it means. She never met her – the woman that conceived her was dead before Rory finished taking her first breath. “They don’t like britany leakers there. She wouldn’t say who fy mather was, so they hilled ker. They didn’t think I lould wive, so they left me be. I thurprised sem.”
She had help, of course. A kinfolk woman who couldn’t handle the screams of a hungry child left alone, who saw to it she survived her first few days until the GE considered her viable and let her live. After that – there was precious little interaction that didn’t bring pain. That she maintains such innocence is a miracle of a childlike brain.
[Edwin Morr] “Had yerself uh rough road ta hoe, seems ta me. Well, if’n yer good fer secrets, I reckon I’ll letcha have ya anuther uh mine.
Cancer took my Momma. ‘Twas jes’ me’n her, ’til th’cancer got so bad… Had ta bury’r m’self up on m’mountain…
So no matter where I went, she’d be high ‘nough ta see me.”
Edwin grins, wry… So very wry. And in that moment, perhaps he seemed a bit more the barely twenty kid he really is, only just shaving, with a baby face and demeanor wizened beyond his short years.
A few moments pass, Edwin stares at his hands. Then, he shrugs, looking at Rory again.
“Still, yer pack. An’ now yer all growed up, seems ta me yer Da oughta be lookin’ fer ya. Might be worth askin’ ‘roun’ ta fig’re out.
If’n ya decides ta do dat someday… I don’ wantcha worryin’. Y’always got yerself uh place here after yer done lookin’.”
[Rory] She finishes off her pork n beans while he talks, while he tells her of his mom, and even uses her finger to scoop out the last little bits of the sauce before she sets the bowl back on the table, and washes it all down with a swig of water. “Hust mave been nice.. to have someone co whared for you.”
It’s said with only a tinge of wistfulness, but no real jealousy. That’s a concept she just hasn’t picked up yet.
She shakes her head at the mention of her father though. “He lever nooked before, and just left me there. I don’t have any reason to care if he dives or lies.” She offers him a shy smile though at the last. She has a real place now. No need to worry. “Not go reason to look for him now. Dever nid.”
[Edwin Morr] “Fair ‘nough. Cain’t say’s I fault ya.”
He nods, watching her…
“Yeah… Ma always knew how ta cheer me up, when I got ta thinkin’ too much. Dere’s days I miss ‘er more’n…”
He doesn’t finish the statement, leaving whatever it was he missed his Ma more than to obscurity. Or perhaps keeping it as a secret for himself. Regardless, he nods to Rory.
“Dere’s uh workin’ shower in dat bathroom dere. Now dat ya’ve ate, I reckon mebbe gittin’ uh shower ‘fore ya hit th’hay’s jes’ th’ticket. Dere’s soap’n shampoo… Ain’t got nuthin’ girlie smellin’, jes’ no scent hunter’s soap and shampoo’n stuff. But whut I gotcher welcome ta use. An’ like I said, dry towels’s in dere too…
I’ll keep an eye on Bruno if’n ya want. Hell, take yer time. Ain’t like I pays th’water bill.”
[Rory] She nods, slightly. She doesn’t press him on the secrets he chooses to keep to himself, she simply accept that’s the way things are, the way things should be. He mentions the shower, again, and she wrinkles her nose. Sleeping in the alley does have a way of clinging to you, scent wise. She’s none of her own – but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t carry the grime of the city with her.
She stands, and looks over at Bruno, who’s doing his best to explore every nook and cranny of the apartment, and then nods once more. “Ok.” she pauses, and looks at him curiously. “..should I want to lell smike a girl?”
Chloe always smelled like garbage and strawberries. Rory always used whatever was closest. The question is sorta rhetorical, of course, as she heads toward the back room to grab her pack, and her sole remaining clean shirt and a tattered pair of sweats she sleeps in when she’s sleeping somewhere warm. The shirt was given to her by Gabe, and she keeps it cleaner than anything else, though it’s long since lost whatever trace of his scent was on it. It’s a comfort – something that reminds her that for a few very brief seconds, someone thought she was beautiful.
The first kiss is always magical.
Soon after, she’s in the bathroom and the water is running. She doesn’t bother closing the door, having never learned anything close to modesty. She simply doesn’t think about her body, clothed or not, in any real way other than as a fighting machine under monkey skin. There’s no hiding, no hovering under a towel, nothing but the efficient strip of several layers of clothing, before she steps under the hot water – vowing to use every single drop of the welcome heat…
[Edwin Morr] And the funny thing is, maybe she notices, maybe she doesn’t… But the door just happens to be closed when she’s done.