[Lila] [ooc: what's UP, beauteous lizalicious? i will stop cluttering your transcript in a second. *grin* HONEST. i don't have aim on, so.]
to Kora
[Mila] Yes, it was distinct.. the woman's breeding. Interesting. What exactly was she doing out here, alone? Shouldn't someone want to covet that? And if the male Garou around here weren't all over the red head, well - shame on them.
Mila pushed off of the pole and casually made her way towards the pair. Hands slid into the back pockets of her jeans. She wore nothing that would make her stand out - just a form fitting t-shirt in dark blue, a pair of jeans.. and a pair of sneakers. Her dark hair was pulled back into a simple poney tail.. and her makeup was light.
[Kora] why are you HIDING darling jess-i-ca? and, it is an ordinary night here. ordinary ordinary ordinary.
to Lila
[Imogen] Imogen's gaze flicks down toward the offered chocolate bar. "No," she says simply, her refusal without any flicker of regret. "Thank you."
Mila has begun their way, and the once-Fianna kinfolk turns her head slightly to watch the approach.
She speaks to Roman in undertone, "Know her, do you?"
[Roman Turner] "Ran in to her once. I am guessing you have not."
He was stuffing dinner away, already considering where he might hide the stash from Sparrow because she was a chocolate eating demon.
[Lila] [ooc: 'coz! i was sick of AIM. i'm in a weird mood, basically! (grin) all restless restless. but i wanted to say hi to mei! and imogen had an open tag and i was all, well, man, wtf not!]
to Kora
[Mila] Mila didn't get too close - just enough to make sure that the pair of them were safe enough. Otherwise, she didn't plan to intervene at the moment. If they wanted her over - Roman could call her. {Afk for a sec.. on the phone}
[Mila] {Eer.. "call her over"}
[Kora] Vinny's Pizza Studio is a storefront half-way down the street, the neon sign in the window promises $1.00 slices to all and sundry. The sign is unalterable, and Vinny has never seen fit to replace it as the cost of his ingredients went up. Instead, he's made the slices smaller and smaller and smaller. Now 'original' slices are $3 each; still a bargain, by most standards, and a hot bag of cheese fries and a can of Coke, and that's dinner for $5, right there. Every food group is represented: cheese, bread, grease, sugar, potatoes.
The door to Vinny's is propped open, but they have a streetside window, too, for walk-up business. It's more convenient for the drug dealers, who can run up for snacks when necessary without abandoning their corners. The front door casts a sharp rectangle of light on the sidewalk, and the neon sign glows blood red on the street. There's a certain drift of conversation from the open doors, the subtle thread of whatever music is being played inside, and the distinctive scent of fried foods. Then a long shadow cuts across the rectangle of light, as a tall blonde emerges from the pizza joint, a brown paper bag in hand, the bottom translucent with grease.
[Imogen] "I haven't," she says, casting a glance to the mostly unfamiliar Ragabash.
She regards Mila for several seconds - it is a stalemate, the Garou standing close, but not too close, and with no apparent intentions of approaching and Imogen - well. Waiting for her to approach.
Finally: "I don't mean t'be impolite," she says, raising her voice to be heard, "but could you perhaps stop hoverin'?"
[Kora] you left! and came back!
to Lila
[Roman Turner] "Mila wasn't it?"
He lifted his voice slightly after Imogen's question, calling to Mila so to speak and giving Imogen a name to go with the female garou. It was about that time that he spotted Kora and almost nudged Imogen.
"Oh hey, lookie there."
[Mila] Blue grey eyes shifted Imogen's direction. Silently, she counted to herself.. one.. two.. three. There, enough time to filter the rude comments she wanted to say such as 'I'll hover if I want to.. ' and 'I was here first.. so you can scram if ya want.' Instead, the the young woman just stepped closer and offered a smile.
"Sure.. I was just busy with a little phone call. Yeah, nice to see ya again Roman. Ya'll have a good night then.." That was it. Apparently she felt like bein nice to the kin today and wandering off.
Mila returned to her street sign and glanced over at the children in the yard.
[Roman Turner] "Yeah, nice to see you again Mila."
He wasn't sure at all what to do with two women in this sort of situation and was already looking like he was going to flee with his bag of goodies before the fur started flying.
[Imogen] Imogen's eyebrow arches slightly.
"Good-bye," she says, with a faint shrug, turning her attention in the direction Roman's pointed her. Kora, with her greasy bag of greasy food. The kinwoman does not wave, but she does nod slightly, as Kora begins to close the distance.
[Kora] The brown paper bag swings from her left hand; hits her thigh at the apex of her long stride. And her stride is indeed long. Kora is the tallest and likely the heaviest of the Garou and kin on the street, 5'10" in her boots, dressed in worn clothing that has recently had a good wash. Old jeans, well-fitted to her tall, narrow frame, a black t-shirt, PIXIES in white letters across the worn black fabric, and a pair of black Dr. Marten's, the shank cinched up her calves, tied round and round by the extra lengths of once-colorful shoelaces. Her pale hair is pulled back sharply from her face, secured behind her head with a pencil and a pair of rubber bands stolen from someone's morning paper rather purchased for the purpose of holding her long hair out of her face.
Whatever her original destination might have been, she alters her path on catching sight of Imogen and Roman standing at the mouth of an alley. Her mouth is a generous thing, wide and expressive, curved faintly even in its most neutral position; there's a faint frown that touches her expression, though, taking in the little tableau, puzzling out the body language from a distance. They are a moving triangle with three points of contact, one of the sides quickly collapsing toward the center.
When Kora is close enough to Imogen to greet her without shouting, she says, " - hey doc." Roman receives an appraising look and a faint lift of her chin by way of greeting. The creature's dark eyes cut from Imogen to Roman and back again. Then she holds out the greasy paper bag. "Cheese fry?"
[Sparrow] Roman Turner had taken entirely too long to bring her chocolate.
Lacking the appropriate chiminage, the spirit grew restless. Lacking the appropriate chiminage, the ahroun decided she was going to find Roman and find her damned chocolate. The moon was waning away, closer to half than full; she was less likely to maim someone over low blood sugar.
That, of course, was not the point. Or really anything that could be acted upn. What could be acted upon, was this:
Sparrow was walking. Or, rather, had been walking a few blocks ago. Now? She's on a bus. Her boots are scuffed, her hair is down and cascading in waves. She had a shorter skirt on than usual. A mini skirt, in fact. Coupled with an off-the-shoulder top that, when angled correctly, revealed scarred clavicles and little bird tattoos. [poor girl was probably in a car wreck. Poor thing! The rational mind ... well.. rationalizes.]
She stops walking when the bus stops. She shrugs, and she gets on.
Being one that drives often, she wasn't sued to this thing. Maybe she'd see where it took her. Who cared. This was kind of exciting. It felt like middle school; Sparrow needed to figure out, and fast, where the Hell she needed to sit.
[Mila] Mila wasn't about to be where she wasn't welcome.. and it was clear enough that the kin didn't want her around. That was fine - the woman wasn't of her tribe and thus, not really her problem anyway.
One of the drug dealers she'd been busy scaring off all day started back towards his corner from down the street - that was, until he caught the glare that the Lord cast his way.. and apparently, his mind was changed. There were other places to deal today with less annoyances.
[Roman Turner] He returned the faint lift of Kora's chin with a full out smile even as he stuffed his hand in the offered bag.
"You betcha!"
That was his greeting, a smile and then robbing her fries. Infact, he grabbed and stuffed just in case she changed her mind. Now she'd have to pry them from his mouth if she wanted them back.
[Imogen] "Kora," Imogen greets the Fenrir in return, shaking her head slightly as Roman dives for the food. Her mouth twists slightly, an ironic smirk. "You both ha' similar ideas on 'dinner'. S'no wonder tha' the American population is ballooning in size."
[Lila] The bus exhales exhaust(edly) and spits to a stop. The bus leaves behind a stain of oil, a smear of grease. There might be some cityshamans who could read a fortune out've the polluted splatters the bus leaves behind. Who could look at the stains and say, there will be a great battle, or, if you buy a lottery ticket at the 7-11 on 23rd, or tomorrow, Wang's will use dog-meat in their burritos, or, there will be a great joy in your family.
And when the bus stops, Sparrow gets on, and it is by sheer luck alone that Lila notices Sparrow before she pushes the backdoors open and jumps to the pavement. " - hey, pretty Bird," she calls, voice clear and carrying. The bus grunts beneath her feet, and she is suspended between getting off and staying on. "Don't pay yet. Where are you going?"
There'd be some grumbling, normally. There'd be a lot of grumbling if there wasn't that frisson of [(secret) monstrousness] something about the two young women.
[Roman Turner] He was 5'5" and a max of 133 lbs with the metabolism of a Humming Bird. So the first thing he did was smack his flat belly and ask.
"Do these cheese fries make me look fat?"
Treating them next with a turn and show of his rear as he twisted his lead to try and see it himself.
[Roman Turner] ((lead=head in my case it really does LOL!))
[Sparrow] "Nowhere," she says, like it's important. Like that really is a location that she could go to, "I decided I could ride a bus. I've never done the whole bus thing before. "
She looks at Lila and she smiles. Though, the moon is bright, it's a bearing of her teeth to others. There is conflict, as always. An inner peace juxtaposed with that feeling that she was going to do Something while she was going Nowhere.
"Roman's supposed to get me chocolate while he's out. I have no Roman, ergo, I'm about to be sans-Roman again once i find him."
Meaning she was going to have his guts for garters. Love family.
[Kora] Kora surrenders the bag to the kid's diving hand. The cheese fries inside are crisp and hot and covered in real cheese, melting from the heat of the just-fried potatoes, rather than some sort of weird liquid cheese sauce slopped out of a hot pot of processed cheese soup. In short: they are heavenly examples of the genre, near perfect things. Either she's generous to a fault, or full from whatever else she ate in there, to share with a greedy, growing, hungry teenage boy.
Kora is a good head taller than Roman, and has nearly a decade on him, to boot. The bag swings as he digs in and then stuffs his face, turning around in a great display after. Generous enough, she is - but she doesn't offer up the bag a second time. "Yeah - " that to Roman, the rightmost corner of her mouth twisted. Then, back to Imogen, a neat shrug of her narrow shoulders. "One of the perks, you know - the ability to eat whatever the hell you want. Anyway," a curl of her shoulders, "Vinny's is cheap, and always open. And I don't have to cook a damn thing."
[Kora] "And - " back to Imogen again, this with another, quirked half-smile. " - mind you, I've been to the UK. The culture that invented elevensies hasn't much room to critique our deep-fried ways."
[Roman Turner] "Elevensies? What's that? Some game?"
He was busy licking his fingers by now. A handful of fries was not enough for his belly to even notice.
[Imogen] Imogen's breath exhales sharply in something like amused scorn.
"The English invented elevenses," she says, "the Americans deep fried it."
A glance to Roman, "S'a small meal yeh ha' in England," says the Cornishwoman, "a bit like a morning snack."
[Lila] The busdriver just can't take it. He says " - lady," and some instinct curbs the worst of his ire, has him not quite meeting Sparrow's eye. "You either do one or the fu - or the other. On or off. Do the bus thing or don't. Christ. Are you on or are you ... or would you like to get off?" Those last seven words: very polite.
Lila - Lila lifts a hand. Lila is on her tiptoes, so that she can be seen over the guardrail for the backexit. Lila points back to the street, back to the sidewalk. Mouths - off. The invitation couldn't be clearer.
[Sparrow] "I would like to get off, thank you," she tells him. She's so polite.
Except, of course, for the fact that the female looks at him, doesn't make eye contact, and that too direct attention is enough to make someone want to say please, for the love of god, just get off my bus. Which is fortunate, because that's what she does. Lila mouthes her invitation,a dn the Child of Gaia wiggles her fingers and-
Gets off the bus.
With Lila.
"... that smells terrible," she says.
[Kora] "In case," Kora adds, her voice low and rich and sure. This is directed back toward Roman. " - you just can't make it from breakfast to lunch, you take a break at eleven for some tea and scones and cakes." Then, a sharpened look, keen - falling in an edged line from Roman toward Imogen. The pair of them are rather closer in height than Kora is to either. She doesn't duck, though - doesn't minimize the length of her long, lean body by hunching her shoulders or ducking her pale head toward them. She stands straight, loose, her feet shoulder width apart, her body language open, her back to the brick building behind them, her attention on the street.
There's a moment, then, when her chin falls, where her brow contracts, and her dark eyes cut back toward Imogen. "You've not seen any more of those fake glyphs, have you?" This time, her voice is especially, pitched to carry just to the pair with whom she is conversing. No further.
[Roman Turner] "River zombies. That's the last thing we seen together."
Just tossing that out there as he fished in the bag he had again for a candy bar, offering Kora a Kit-Kat bar.
[Mila] The lone woman across the street had moved to sit atop a low concrete wall. Legs idly swung back and forth. A slender hand reached up to stifle a yawn.
There was a moment of consideration to the trio across the street..
[Lila] The two garou are the last ones off the bus. The bus idles a second (as if it [half] expected a change of mind [stalled]). Then the busdriver hauls out've there, rattling far, far too quickly down the road for safety's sake, and Lila is left looking wide-eyed and daydreamy at Sparrow. Wide-eyed and daydreamy Lila might be, but she is a perceptive creature, and the shadow lord galliard is still at -- has returned to, after circling the Fianna kinfolk and Roman, before Kora emerged from Vinny's and joined the couple -- the corner. Now, though, she's seated on a wall.
"Don't be sans Roman once you find him," she says, imploringly. A note of good-humor snicks the corner of her mouth up, into a curve. "For then you will be sans chocolate every time in the future you think, Hey, I'll send Roman out for chocolate. Because he will be gone, and you will be sans. That's not a very good plan at all." By this time, Lila has tilted her head toward Mila, and there's eloquence there, too: this-a-way, walk this-a-way. When Sparrow is beside her, she says, conversational voice -- and low: "Have you met Stormbreaker?"
[Imogen] Imogen casts a glance to Roman as he speaks of 'river zombies', her expression unrevealing, reserved and deliberately neutral.
Her attention returns to Kora.
"Not as such," she says, "Though I looked int' the boys tha' had been killed," it is neutral, her choice of words. "They all attended th'same school. One lived in Elk Grove. The rest were from Chicago.
"The school is one o' the ones tha's receivin' a donation o' food from a company called Whole Heart Foods. S'a company rumoured t'be cursed. I'd venture t'say it's startin' t'sound substantiated."
[Kora] Kora has no desire for a Kit-Kat bar. Or rather, she has no specific desire for a Kit-Kat bar. However, the offer is not unlike any other offer of hospitality, the first bread broken, the first cup shared. Accordingly, she accepts the Kit-Kat. "Thanks," with a curl of her generous mouth, an open demeanor uncommon in members of her tribe. Then, tears open the wrapper and lifts the candy bar as if it were a drink she had to hand. " - cheers." Then splits off two pieces for herself, and offers the remaining two to Imogen or Roman, before at last giving Roman a direct look.
"River zombies?" There is a note of skeptical inquiry in Kora's tone, not quite arch. She is not yet committed to believing in river zombies, or disbelieving in river zombies. She is taking the idea of river zombies under advisement.
Her generous mouth stills, then; her attention swings back to Imogen, direct and fixed and clear, the dark eyes trained on the kinswoman's face. There is a certain neutrality to her tone, that belies the keen thread of tension that has entered her body. " - like the food in the community center in the church."
[Roman Turner] "She was there Ma'am. Ask Miss Doctor."
He as already fishing around in the bag for another candy bar, coming up with a bag of M&M's that he tore open with his teeth so he could upend them into his mouth.
[Sparrow] "I suppose, in which case, I'll keep him around," she says. She laments. That plan was terrible, what with being sans Roman and, eventually, sans a ready flow of chocolate bringers, "but not because he's family or I like him or anything. Just because of the chocolate."
She walks comfortably, confidently, with her hair pulled over her shoulders tasteful in some places, a la lady Godiva. Only, unlike the woman of legend, Sparrow was actually wearing clothes. And wasn't riding a horse. and wasn't protesting any sort of taxation.
"I'm teaching her the Rite of Binding," she tells Lila. Voice low, even, and carries nicely. Seems her day of screaming has had little lasting effect on the timbre of her voice.
[Imogen] The Garou trade food - greasy fries, chocolate, and Imogen takes a step back, reaching into her jacket pocket to retrieve her own vice - a soft packet of cigarettes, a bic lighter.
She lights up, smoke filling her lungs as she inhales.
"Fomori in th'river," 'Miss' Doctor replies, turning her head slightly to exhale smoke. "Their skin was cold and their blood was congealed. Though, when they went down, they stayed down, so I wouldn't call them zombies, per se."
Her mouth draws a little tighter, her eyelids lowering as she takes another drag.
Like the food in the community centre in the church.
She nods, slightly. "Yes," quietly. "Precisely like that."
[Mila] Ah.. the other two caught her attention. A hand rose in greeting to Sparrow and .. Lila, was it? She'd only met Lila once - though, as she recalled.. that was her name. Sparrow, she was more familiar with.
[Roman Turner] The two women were talking and it was about the second time he lifted the bag of M&M's to his mouth when he caught sight of Sparrow down the way.
"Ut oh. Gotta run. She's gonna be meaner than a one horned bull in a room full of red capes. I gotta go plant a chocolate trail to lead her away from the real treasure."
[Roman Turner] ((In other words, late for me and I am nodding off. Thanks for play!))
to Imogen, Kora, Lila, Mila, Sparrow
[Imogen] (thanks for the play, Blu!)
to Kora, Lila, Mila, Roman Turner, Sparrow
[Lila] "Of course," Lila says, gravely enough that Sparrow might wonder whether or not Lila thinks she (Sparrow) is completely (and utterly) serious about Roman only being good to bring chocolate around.
Sparrow is going to teach Mila the Rite of Binding. "Is it an exchange of knowledge," she asks, "or just a gift?" Because an exchange and a gift are different things, at least -- at very least -- in terms of how they might be viewed. Then: Mila lifts a hand to say hello, and Lila, who looks abstracted, distracted, smiles (like a story [moon-mad, and fey]) quietly in response.
Just another couple of steps brings the pair of Children of Gaia to Mila's corner, which means, also, that Lila spies Kora, Roman and Imogen at about the same time Roman spies Lila and Sparrow and gets that oh crap, I'm going to get my ass beat look.
"Hi. Stormbreaker - Mila? Wasn't it? This your corner?"
[Roman Turner] He was there one moment and the next all they saw was brief flash of his backside before he skidded around a corner and was gone.
[Kora] "Keep me in the loop, yeah?" This to Imogen, as Roman pours a whole bag of M&Ms directly into his mouth. Kora eats her chocolate more slowly, piecemeal, savoring, as much as she can, the layered chocolate and crisp wafers throughout the Kit-Kat. Roman then offers his version of goodbye. Kora's dark eyes cut neatly up the street, to Sparrow beyond as Roman begins to dark away, leaving - or not, a trail of chocolate in his wake.
Contrary to expectations, she wraps foil around the last two bars of the Kit-Kate and stuffs the remnants of the candy into her front pocket, then cleans the smeared chocolate off her fingertips by smearing them across her thighs. The gesture pulls the sharp joint of her wrist against the many bracelets she wears. She watches as Roman disappears, then looks back to Imogen. " - think it'd be worth stealing the food from the high school? Interrupting the supply?"
[Mila] "Hey.. yeah.. it's either name really." She smiled, no.. smirked and opened her mouth to respond to the 'your corner' question. And... then.. there was silence. Yup, someone wise once told her that you can't joke around with anyone. And, no matter how funny the prostitution jokes might be to her.. she didn't know Lila well enough to say them. So, she mused about them to herself.. and finally responded. "For today, yeah. The drug dealers kept scarin' the kids away. I wanted to make sure they could play outside on this nice evening."
"You're Lila, right?" Lightly hued lips formed into a polite smile. "It's nice to see you again." A beat. "Hey Resistance. How are ya?"
[Sparrow] "Just a gift," she says, "it'll help her and her packmates get on their feet if they need it."
she looks, notices her cousin briefly and perks up. Look! Roman! She smiled contently, and at that moment, she turns back to notice that he? Was gone. The Child of Gaia almost slumped, almost looked crestfallen. Eh, well, she'd see him at home.
"Mila, hey, glad to see you're up and moving," she smiles. She remembers a lopsided agreement. Payment for a rite (you live until the next moot and I'll teach you this rite in the mean time. If you die, I'll be disappointed.)
"I? Am holding up," she says with a grin, "it's a good thing."
[Imogen] Imogen's eyebrow lifts slightly.
"Montressor Sabine's not been in touch, then," she says, the phrase no where near a question.
"He had his own plans on what he wanted to do," she says. "I said I would assist."
A beat. "If it seems like he's not like t'do anything at all, I'll see what must be done."
[Mila] Hrmp. And as Sparrow may, or may not remember.. Mila had offered several times to exchange the Rite for one she knew.. but, the Coggie would not be shaken from the path of just giving it as a gift.
[Lila] Lila watches Roman vanish around a corner, and glances back at Sparrow, head canted. When he is gone, and she does not think he, like other No Moons she is familiar with, is going to slip back around the corner, come ghost-quiet around on the sidewalk and make the potential mistake of startling two galliards and an ahroun, a collection of Rage bright enough to burn a hole into the cement, give it enough time, bright enough and black enough to stain this place ugly, give it enough time, well -- only when she's fairly certain he's really gone, does she draw her green eyes back to Sparrow --
"Was that?" she asks, of the departed Roman. Was that him?
-- and back to Mila.
You're Lila, right - and Lila smiles, suddenly: a blooming thing. "That's one've the names, yes. Best one for the street, too. You've been here a month now, haven't you? What do you think of this place?"
[Mila] "Almost a month and a half, I'd suppose. It's.. an alright place. I think it's just a different vibe to learn to live with - being in a Sept and all." She responded to Lila.. before glancing over at Sparrow again.
"I'm up and about.. in one piece at least. Which, is a good thing too. Glad to hear you're doin' ok. I hadn't gotten a chance to come by and see you since the Moot. Yer packmate doin' alright too?"
[Kora] "Naw," Kora says, with a twist of her mouth that could not be considered a smile, that. "I'm afraid I've never met the elusive Mr. Sabine. Joe and I - " a faint pause, her expression stilling, " - were looking for him."
Kora pauses, quiet then, her fine features thinning with memory, stilling. "Before. I'll make the effort, again."
There is another pause; the pale creature's dark eyes are fixed on Imogen's face. Her own expression is neutral, wary, the curve of her mouth still, turned down at the corners in a thoughtful expression. "Joe won the challenge for Jarl, after the moot." There are words that she is not saying; there is a conversation here, under the surface of things. "Silence-rhya was there." Her voice is quiet, low. It does not carry, and there is a certain awareness of the kinswoman's privacy, too, inherent in the voice. She's offering facts, Kora. She is neither offering nor demanding confidences.
[Imogen] There is a distinct pause.
"Are you tellin' me for some purpose, or are you simply informing me of his whereabouts?"
[Sparrow] Was that?
"Yeah," she said.
Which was all she said, really. With quiet fondness. Mila refers to her packmate, and she shrugs.
"Roman's doing okay. He's having a go with this whole transition-to-a-city thing, getting a place helped, so we're pretty set. Still figuring things out."
[Lila] - being in a Sept and all - Mila says, and the golden-haired creature looks perplexed by this intelligence. She waits until Sparrow and Mila have finished exchanging news about their respective partners-in-crime. Sparrow says Roman's transitioning-to-a-city, and Lila grimaces, rubbing her forehead with the fingers of her righthand. " - every time I think I get used to it, I get itchy in my skin and want to take it off," she offers, simplicity itself. Just thinking about it -- just thinking about being hedged in by all these buildings -- just thinking about it makes her long for, at least, the caern.
Then she asks the Mila this - "Where do you come from?" Lila is actually interested. She doesn't have to feign interest.
[Mila] Mila nodded in agreement to the respective comments from both women. She genuinely liked them both, actually - and it showed in the soft smiles, the gentle tones and the interest she took in what they both had to say. Aww, Mila was a nice person at heart. Just don't tell the other Lords - they don't like that.
"Seattle.. awhile back. But, my remaining packmate and I spent quite awhile being wanderers.. We've been a lot of places - and, I'd guess we just got used to doing things ourselves."
[Sparrow] (skip me, loves, waitress is here!)
[Kora] "I'm not sure." The admission is a quiet thing, low and distinct and threaded with tension; Kora's dark eyes remain affixed to Imogen's pale features. The dusk has fallen into darkness. The streetlights have flooded the city's streets with amber circles of light. "I don't know which it is."
Then, her eyes cut away from Imogen, off to the Garou beneath the streetlamp. Her fine mouth is pulled tight, pale and straight. "I think you should know. And I think I should not gossip about my elders."
[Lila] "You say 'remaining,'" Lila says, a quiet thing. "When you and - " a pause, because the name she knows for the creature Mila runs with is the name the Guardians know, the name that isn't quite appropriate for a conversation across from a yard where children were playing (they've gone inside, scattered: stones), " - your brother left Seattle - if you're both from that city - did you leave to wander alone? Or did you lose somebody on the way?" There's a twist of sympathy in Lila's mouth, in the way the Fostern holds herself: they got used to doing things by themselves, and she understands that very well.
[Imogen] Imogen has her own tension - but it is a tight thing, coiled fair beneath the skin. It is betrayed only just in the line of her jaw, the set of her mouth.
Impossible, too, to know what the tension is. The subject, the suggestion of a cliath coming to her about her Athro mate or what Kora might have to tell her. It could be any of them. None of them.
Truthfully, Kora does not know the kinwoman well. Better than most, which does not say a lot in these days where every single person Imogen Slaughter knows is dead or otherwise gone. The point is not pity. The point is this: Kora does not know Imogen well, and the tension could be well-bred offence that Kora dares to broach the subject, it could be tension of the subject of Silence, or it could be tension at the prediction of what the cliath has to share.
But she is still, a cigarette burning between her fingers, and she is tense. Eventually, the stillness breaks. Imogen brings the cigarette up to her mouth, fitting it between her lips and taking a single, sharp drag.
"I don't think you should either," she says, finally.
"And I'm not sure I want t'hear o' his comings and goings from a second party. So." The words she's spoken have been wreathed in smoke. The last one is tight, a wire pulled razor sharp. She exhales the last breath, and takes another drag before pitching the fag into the gutter.
"S'leave it at he was there, shall we?"
[Mila] "Nikolai.." she filled in quietly in the appropriate pause.
And when she was done, Mila's tone remained quiet - a bit sorrowful. "We left to wander alone because of the losses we suffered in Seattle. There was naught left for us there and we needed some time to sort things out and to find a new patron.. We weren't always a pack of two, but that's where we stand, currently."
[Kora] I don't think you should either, says Imogen. Kora's dark eyes snap back to the kinswoman's face. She stares for a moment, her mouth a hard, visceral line in her face, her narrow shoulders straight, her spine pulled taut, straighter than it should be, gaining a scant half-inch of height by a trick of her well-trained muscles, decompressing the vertebrae, pulling herself unconsciously upward.
Then: "Yeah," says Kora, still looking directly at Imogen, the bag of cheese fries limp in her left hand, folded over, cooling, the brown paper bag, translucent with grease, rests just against her left thigh. The scent of the grease is strong, congealed now - no longer hot, sharp, intense. The snap has left the crust, and the grease soaked into the bag is doubtlessly being slowly reaborbed into the deep-fried tangle.
There is a sharp exhale of breath, then. " - that works for me."
Her tone is neutral, still and clear as cold-drawn water poured over a stone.
Kora looks away again, lifts her attention to Lila and Mila and Sparrow gathered on the street. Considers them. Considers the moot. Considers the matter of an Athro Modi so lost in his own rage he deems himself unfit to lead the tribe. Considers the moot again, because the former thought is too large for her, too impossible.
The edges of her mouth twist, then. From neutral to a faint, furrowed frown. Her tone remains neutral, and low. "Anyone tell you," quiet-like. She breathes out. " - about the kin kidnapped by the cursed ones?"
[Sparrow] "Well," she says. Strange that the full moon would wear optimism so openly, so freely, "this is a good place to rebuild. Somewhere new, somewhere different, and there's a lot of opportunity."
She is such an open book. If it flickers through Sparrow's mind, it reads clearly on hr face, in her posture, in all of her. In a way, it's almost lupine. The lupus born often have difficulty lying and, apparently, so does Sparrow. even her best attempts at being false fall flat.
"Hope this city treats you well."
[Lila] "I'd like to hear about those losses sometime," Lila says, seriously. Her mouth isn't curved now. Lila'd like to hear about those losses, because this is what she does: remembers those who have gone before. And this is also what she does: listen to other galliards, doing the same. "Maybe over a beer," she adds, less gravity. "What has you two pausing so long in Chicago?"
Sparrow mentions opportunity, and Lila gives her an inquisitive look, and the texture of her glance wanders back toward daydreamy, like she's thinking of something else, like she's a million miles away -- she isn't. "Opportunity, hm?"
[Imogen] There had been no censure in her tone - but the words might have been enough. The implication thereof. Kora's eyes snap to the kin's face, and Imogen meets her gaze steadily, unflinchingly, even as the Garou straightens, her spine lengthening.
Imogen does not have the same trick. She is so slight, it would have been negligible in either case.
What she has is the strength to withstand the implication of aggression. Something rare among kinfolk.
It only lasts a second, then Kora agrees, though her gaze does not soften. Kora looks away, and Imogen's gaze flicks downward, away over the dirty stained concrete at their feet. She looks up again as the Skald speaks. A pause, then a slight nod. "Joey left a talen fer me at my apartment," she says. "Told me tha' her cousin had been taken, when I went to return it to her."
[Mila] "Yeah.. sure. That sounds great - it's been awhile since I've properly told their story." Mila's tone was still quiet. She nodded and leaned back against the wall that she'd slid off of awhile ago.
"We decided to stay for a while when we heard about the war." And now, for response from her female side.. "and I found a kin, who lives here who I'd like to earn the right to claim." And she shrugged, moving on from that topic, which was a bit of a sore point lately.. "Plus, it was a big city, and like Sparrow said.. there's lots of opporunity here."
A pause. "Why did the two of you pick Chicago?"
[Sparrow] "You need to live in a city once, before living in the country makes you simple. But you need to live in the country, before the city makes you complicated."
She stops.
"Chicago is a city under fire. We came because the city needs Children of Gaia, and I think... that this is an experience that both Roman and I need to have. Clearwater's insular, and if we come back, we can bring something back that we can do."
There was a whole tangent in her eyes, stopped by lips that refused to divulge much more than that.
"But yeah, Chicago's a place that names and stories can be It's a city with history, and it has potential. A different kind of potential than Clearwater."
[Kora] "Did she tell you," Kora's voice is low, neutral. Her pale head swings back to Imogen, the look direct, clear. "that her cousin had your phone number on him, when he was taken?"
Then, a brief pause, a swinging glance back at the doctor.
[Imogen] A muscle tics in the doctor's jaw.
"No," she says, flatly. "She neglected to pass that on."
A beat.
"Bloody hell."
[Mila] "Clearwater.. what state was that in, Sparrow?"
to Kora
[Mila] Yes, it was distinct.. the woman's breeding. Interesting. What exactly was she doing out here, alone? Shouldn't someone want to covet that? And if the male Garou around here weren't all over the red head, well - shame on them.
Mila pushed off of the pole and casually made her way towards the pair. Hands slid into the back pockets of her jeans. She wore nothing that would make her stand out - just a form fitting t-shirt in dark blue, a pair of jeans.. and a pair of sneakers. Her dark hair was pulled back into a simple poney tail.. and her makeup was light.
[Kora] why are you HIDING darling jess-i-ca? and, it is an ordinary night here. ordinary ordinary ordinary.
to Lila
[Imogen] Imogen's gaze flicks down toward the offered chocolate bar. "No," she says simply, her refusal without any flicker of regret. "Thank you."
Mila has begun their way, and the once-Fianna kinfolk turns her head slightly to watch the approach.
She speaks to Roman in undertone, "Know her, do you?"
[Roman Turner] "Ran in to her once. I am guessing you have not."
He was stuffing dinner away, already considering where he might hide the stash from Sparrow because she was a chocolate eating demon.
[Lila] [ooc: 'coz! i was sick of AIM. i'm in a weird mood, basically! (grin) all restless restless. but i wanted to say hi to mei! and imogen had an open tag and i was all, well, man, wtf not!]
to Kora
[Mila] Mila didn't get too close - just enough to make sure that the pair of them were safe enough. Otherwise, she didn't plan to intervene at the moment. If they wanted her over - Roman could call her. {Afk for a sec.. on the phone}
[Mila] {Eer.. "call her over"}
[Kora] Vinny's Pizza Studio is a storefront half-way down the street, the neon sign in the window promises $1.00 slices to all and sundry. The sign is unalterable, and Vinny has never seen fit to replace it as the cost of his ingredients went up. Instead, he's made the slices smaller and smaller and smaller. Now 'original' slices are $3 each; still a bargain, by most standards, and a hot bag of cheese fries and a can of Coke, and that's dinner for $5, right there. Every food group is represented: cheese, bread, grease, sugar, potatoes.
The door to Vinny's is propped open, but they have a streetside window, too, for walk-up business. It's more convenient for the drug dealers, who can run up for snacks when necessary without abandoning their corners. The front door casts a sharp rectangle of light on the sidewalk, and the neon sign glows blood red on the street. There's a certain drift of conversation from the open doors, the subtle thread of whatever music is being played inside, and the distinctive scent of fried foods. Then a long shadow cuts across the rectangle of light, as a tall blonde emerges from the pizza joint, a brown paper bag in hand, the bottom translucent with grease.
[Imogen] "I haven't," she says, casting a glance to the mostly unfamiliar Ragabash.
She regards Mila for several seconds - it is a stalemate, the Garou standing close, but not too close, and with no apparent intentions of approaching and Imogen - well. Waiting for her to approach.
Finally: "I don't mean t'be impolite," she says, raising her voice to be heard, "but could you perhaps stop hoverin'?"
[Kora] you left! and came back!
to Lila
[Roman Turner] "Mila wasn't it?"
He lifted his voice slightly after Imogen's question, calling to Mila so to speak and giving Imogen a name to go with the female garou. It was about that time that he spotted Kora and almost nudged Imogen.
"Oh hey, lookie there."
[Mila] Blue grey eyes shifted Imogen's direction. Silently, she counted to herself.. one.. two.. three. There, enough time to filter the rude comments she wanted to say such as 'I'll hover if I want to.. ' and 'I was here first.. so you can scram if ya want.' Instead, the the young woman just stepped closer and offered a smile.
"Sure.. I was just busy with a little phone call. Yeah, nice to see ya again Roman. Ya'll have a good night then.." That was it. Apparently she felt like bein nice to the kin today and wandering off.
Mila returned to her street sign and glanced over at the children in the yard.
[Roman Turner] "Yeah, nice to see you again Mila."
He wasn't sure at all what to do with two women in this sort of situation and was already looking like he was going to flee with his bag of goodies before the fur started flying.
[Imogen] Imogen's eyebrow arches slightly.
"Good-bye," she says, with a faint shrug, turning her attention in the direction Roman's pointed her. Kora, with her greasy bag of greasy food. The kinwoman does not wave, but she does nod slightly, as Kora begins to close the distance.
[Kora] The brown paper bag swings from her left hand; hits her thigh at the apex of her long stride. And her stride is indeed long. Kora is the tallest and likely the heaviest of the Garou and kin on the street, 5'10" in her boots, dressed in worn clothing that has recently had a good wash. Old jeans, well-fitted to her tall, narrow frame, a black t-shirt, PIXIES in white letters across the worn black fabric, and a pair of black Dr. Marten's, the shank cinched up her calves, tied round and round by the extra lengths of once-colorful shoelaces. Her pale hair is pulled back sharply from her face, secured behind her head with a pencil and a pair of rubber bands stolen from someone's morning paper rather purchased for the purpose of holding her long hair out of her face.
Whatever her original destination might have been, she alters her path on catching sight of Imogen and Roman standing at the mouth of an alley. Her mouth is a generous thing, wide and expressive, curved faintly even in its most neutral position; there's a faint frown that touches her expression, though, taking in the little tableau, puzzling out the body language from a distance. They are a moving triangle with three points of contact, one of the sides quickly collapsing toward the center.
When Kora is close enough to Imogen to greet her without shouting, she says, " - hey doc." Roman receives an appraising look and a faint lift of her chin by way of greeting. The creature's dark eyes cut from Imogen to Roman and back again. Then she holds out the greasy paper bag. "Cheese fry?"
[Sparrow] Roman Turner had taken entirely too long to bring her chocolate.
Lacking the appropriate chiminage, the spirit grew restless. Lacking the appropriate chiminage, the ahroun decided she was going to find Roman and find her damned chocolate. The moon was waning away, closer to half than full; she was less likely to maim someone over low blood sugar.
That, of course, was not the point. Or really anything that could be acted upn. What could be acted upon, was this:
Sparrow was walking. Or, rather, had been walking a few blocks ago. Now? She's on a bus. Her boots are scuffed, her hair is down and cascading in waves. She had a shorter skirt on than usual. A mini skirt, in fact. Coupled with an off-the-shoulder top that, when angled correctly, revealed scarred clavicles and little bird tattoos. [poor girl was probably in a car wreck. Poor thing! The rational mind ... well.. rationalizes.]
She stops walking when the bus stops. She shrugs, and she gets on.
Being one that drives often, she wasn't sued to this thing. Maybe she'd see where it took her. Who cared. This was kind of exciting. It felt like middle school; Sparrow needed to figure out, and fast, where the Hell she needed to sit.
[Mila] Mila wasn't about to be where she wasn't welcome.. and it was clear enough that the kin didn't want her around. That was fine - the woman wasn't of her tribe and thus, not really her problem anyway.
One of the drug dealers she'd been busy scaring off all day started back towards his corner from down the street - that was, until he caught the glare that the Lord cast his way.. and apparently, his mind was changed. There were other places to deal today with less annoyances.
[Roman Turner] He returned the faint lift of Kora's chin with a full out smile even as he stuffed his hand in the offered bag.
"You betcha!"
That was his greeting, a smile and then robbing her fries. Infact, he grabbed and stuffed just in case she changed her mind. Now she'd have to pry them from his mouth if she wanted them back.
[Imogen] "Kora," Imogen greets the Fenrir in return, shaking her head slightly as Roman dives for the food. Her mouth twists slightly, an ironic smirk. "You both ha' similar ideas on 'dinner'. S'no wonder tha' the American population is ballooning in size."
[Lila] The bus exhales exhaust(edly) and spits to a stop. The bus leaves behind a stain of oil, a smear of grease. There might be some cityshamans who could read a fortune out've the polluted splatters the bus leaves behind. Who could look at the stains and say, there will be a great battle, or, if you buy a lottery ticket at the 7-11 on 23rd, or tomorrow, Wang's will use dog-meat in their burritos, or, there will be a great joy in your family.
And when the bus stops, Sparrow gets on, and it is by sheer luck alone that Lila notices Sparrow before she pushes the backdoors open and jumps to the pavement. " - hey, pretty Bird," she calls, voice clear and carrying. The bus grunts beneath her feet, and she is suspended between getting off and staying on. "Don't pay yet. Where are you going?"
There'd be some grumbling, normally. There'd be a lot of grumbling if there wasn't that frisson of [(secret) monstrousness] something about the two young women.
[Roman Turner] He was 5'5" and a max of 133 lbs with the metabolism of a Humming Bird. So the first thing he did was smack his flat belly and ask.
"Do these cheese fries make me look fat?"
Treating them next with a turn and show of his rear as he twisted his lead to try and see it himself.
[Roman Turner] ((lead=head in my case it really does LOL!))
[Sparrow] "Nowhere," she says, like it's important. Like that really is a location that she could go to, "I decided I could ride a bus. I've never done the whole bus thing before. "
She looks at Lila and she smiles. Though, the moon is bright, it's a bearing of her teeth to others. There is conflict, as always. An inner peace juxtaposed with that feeling that she was going to do Something while she was going Nowhere.
"Roman's supposed to get me chocolate while he's out. I have no Roman, ergo, I'm about to be sans-Roman again once i find him."
Meaning she was going to have his guts for garters. Love family.
[Kora] Kora surrenders the bag to the kid's diving hand. The cheese fries inside are crisp and hot and covered in real cheese, melting from the heat of the just-fried potatoes, rather than some sort of weird liquid cheese sauce slopped out of a hot pot of processed cheese soup. In short: they are heavenly examples of the genre, near perfect things. Either she's generous to a fault, or full from whatever else she ate in there, to share with a greedy, growing, hungry teenage boy.
Kora is a good head taller than Roman, and has nearly a decade on him, to boot. The bag swings as he digs in and then stuffs his face, turning around in a great display after. Generous enough, she is - but she doesn't offer up the bag a second time. "Yeah - " that to Roman, the rightmost corner of her mouth twisted. Then, back to Imogen, a neat shrug of her narrow shoulders. "One of the perks, you know - the ability to eat whatever the hell you want. Anyway," a curl of her shoulders, "Vinny's is cheap, and always open. And I don't have to cook a damn thing."
[Kora] "And - " back to Imogen again, this with another, quirked half-smile. " - mind you, I've been to the UK. The culture that invented elevensies hasn't much room to critique our deep-fried ways."
[Roman Turner] "Elevensies? What's that? Some game?"
He was busy licking his fingers by now. A handful of fries was not enough for his belly to even notice.
[Imogen] Imogen's breath exhales sharply in something like amused scorn.
"The English invented elevenses," she says, "the Americans deep fried it."
A glance to Roman, "S'a small meal yeh ha' in England," says the Cornishwoman, "a bit like a morning snack."
[Lila] The busdriver just can't take it. He says " - lady," and some instinct curbs the worst of his ire, has him not quite meeting Sparrow's eye. "You either do one or the fu - or the other. On or off. Do the bus thing or don't. Christ. Are you on or are you ... or would you like to get off?" Those last seven words: very polite.
Lila - Lila lifts a hand. Lila is on her tiptoes, so that she can be seen over the guardrail for the backexit. Lila points back to the street, back to the sidewalk. Mouths - off. The invitation couldn't be clearer.
[Sparrow] "I would like to get off, thank you," she tells him. She's so polite.
Except, of course, for the fact that the female looks at him, doesn't make eye contact, and that too direct attention is enough to make someone want to say please, for the love of god, just get off my bus. Which is fortunate, because that's what she does. Lila mouthes her invitation,a dn the Child of Gaia wiggles her fingers and-
Gets off the bus.
With Lila.
"... that smells terrible," she says.
[Kora] "In case," Kora adds, her voice low and rich and sure. This is directed back toward Roman. " - you just can't make it from breakfast to lunch, you take a break at eleven for some tea and scones and cakes." Then, a sharpened look, keen - falling in an edged line from Roman toward Imogen. The pair of them are rather closer in height than Kora is to either. She doesn't duck, though - doesn't minimize the length of her long, lean body by hunching her shoulders or ducking her pale head toward them. She stands straight, loose, her feet shoulder width apart, her body language open, her back to the brick building behind them, her attention on the street.
There's a moment, then, when her chin falls, where her brow contracts, and her dark eyes cut back toward Imogen. "You've not seen any more of those fake glyphs, have you?" This time, her voice is especially, pitched to carry just to the pair with whom she is conversing. No further.
[Roman Turner] "River zombies. That's the last thing we seen together."
Just tossing that out there as he fished in the bag he had again for a candy bar, offering Kora a Kit-Kat bar.
[Mila] The lone woman across the street had moved to sit atop a low concrete wall. Legs idly swung back and forth. A slender hand reached up to stifle a yawn.
There was a moment of consideration to the trio across the street..
[Lila] The two garou are the last ones off the bus. The bus idles a second (as if it [half] expected a change of mind [stalled]). Then the busdriver hauls out've there, rattling far, far too quickly down the road for safety's sake, and Lila is left looking wide-eyed and daydreamy at Sparrow. Wide-eyed and daydreamy Lila might be, but she is a perceptive creature, and the shadow lord galliard is still at -- has returned to, after circling the Fianna kinfolk and Roman, before Kora emerged from Vinny's and joined the couple -- the corner. Now, though, she's seated on a wall.
"Don't be sans Roman once you find him," she says, imploringly. A note of good-humor snicks the corner of her mouth up, into a curve. "For then you will be sans chocolate every time in the future you think, Hey, I'll send Roman out for chocolate. Because he will be gone, and you will be sans. That's not a very good plan at all." By this time, Lila has tilted her head toward Mila, and there's eloquence there, too: this-a-way, walk this-a-way. When Sparrow is beside her, she says, conversational voice -- and low: "Have you met Stormbreaker?"
[Imogen] Imogen casts a glance to Roman as he speaks of 'river zombies', her expression unrevealing, reserved and deliberately neutral.
Her attention returns to Kora.
"Not as such," she says, "Though I looked int' the boys tha' had been killed," it is neutral, her choice of words. "They all attended th'same school. One lived in Elk Grove. The rest were from Chicago.
"The school is one o' the ones tha's receivin' a donation o' food from a company called Whole Heart Foods. S'a company rumoured t'be cursed. I'd venture t'say it's startin' t'sound substantiated."
[Kora] Kora has no desire for a Kit-Kat bar. Or rather, she has no specific desire for a Kit-Kat bar. However, the offer is not unlike any other offer of hospitality, the first bread broken, the first cup shared. Accordingly, she accepts the Kit-Kat. "Thanks," with a curl of her generous mouth, an open demeanor uncommon in members of her tribe. Then, tears open the wrapper and lifts the candy bar as if it were a drink she had to hand. " - cheers." Then splits off two pieces for herself, and offers the remaining two to Imogen or Roman, before at last giving Roman a direct look.
"River zombies?" There is a note of skeptical inquiry in Kora's tone, not quite arch. She is not yet committed to believing in river zombies, or disbelieving in river zombies. She is taking the idea of river zombies under advisement.
Her generous mouth stills, then; her attention swings back to Imogen, direct and fixed and clear, the dark eyes trained on the kinswoman's face. There is a certain neutrality to her tone, that belies the keen thread of tension that has entered her body. " - like the food in the community center in the church."
[Roman Turner] "She was there Ma'am. Ask Miss Doctor."
He as already fishing around in the bag for another candy bar, coming up with a bag of M&M's that he tore open with his teeth so he could upend them into his mouth.
[Sparrow] "I suppose, in which case, I'll keep him around," she says. She laments. That plan was terrible, what with being sans Roman and, eventually, sans a ready flow of chocolate bringers, "but not because he's family or I like him or anything. Just because of the chocolate."
She walks comfortably, confidently, with her hair pulled over her shoulders tasteful in some places, a la lady Godiva. Only, unlike the woman of legend, Sparrow was actually wearing clothes. And wasn't riding a horse. and wasn't protesting any sort of taxation.
"I'm teaching her the Rite of Binding," she tells Lila. Voice low, even, and carries nicely. Seems her day of screaming has had little lasting effect on the timbre of her voice.
[Imogen] The Garou trade food - greasy fries, chocolate, and Imogen takes a step back, reaching into her jacket pocket to retrieve her own vice - a soft packet of cigarettes, a bic lighter.
She lights up, smoke filling her lungs as she inhales.
"Fomori in th'river," 'Miss' Doctor replies, turning her head slightly to exhale smoke. "Their skin was cold and their blood was congealed. Though, when they went down, they stayed down, so I wouldn't call them zombies, per se."
Her mouth draws a little tighter, her eyelids lowering as she takes another drag.
Like the food in the community centre in the church.
She nods, slightly. "Yes," quietly. "Precisely like that."
[Mila] Ah.. the other two caught her attention. A hand rose in greeting to Sparrow and .. Lila, was it? She'd only met Lila once - though, as she recalled.. that was her name. Sparrow, she was more familiar with.
[Roman Turner] The two women were talking and it was about the second time he lifted the bag of M&M's to his mouth when he caught sight of Sparrow down the way.
"Ut oh. Gotta run. She's gonna be meaner than a one horned bull in a room full of red capes. I gotta go plant a chocolate trail to lead her away from the real treasure."
[Roman Turner] ((In other words, late for me and I am nodding off. Thanks for play!))
to Imogen, Kora, Lila, Mila, Sparrow
[Imogen] (thanks for the play, Blu!)
to Kora, Lila, Mila, Roman Turner, Sparrow
[Lila] "Of course," Lila says, gravely enough that Sparrow might wonder whether or not Lila thinks she (Sparrow) is completely (and utterly) serious about Roman only being good to bring chocolate around.
Sparrow is going to teach Mila the Rite of Binding. "Is it an exchange of knowledge," she asks, "or just a gift?" Because an exchange and a gift are different things, at least -- at very least -- in terms of how they might be viewed. Then: Mila lifts a hand to say hello, and Lila, who looks abstracted, distracted, smiles (like a story [moon-mad, and fey]) quietly in response.
Just another couple of steps brings the pair of Children of Gaia to Mila's corner, which means, also, that Lila spies Kora, Roman and Imogen at about the same time Roman spies Lila and Sparrow and gets that oh crap, I'm going to get my ass beat look.
"Hi. Stormbreaker - Mila? Wasn't it? This your corner?"
[Roman Turner] He was there one moment and the next all they saw was brief flash of his backside before he skidded around a corner and was gone.
[Kora] "Keep me in the loop, yeah?" This to Imogen, as Roman pours a whole bag of M&Ms directly into his mouth. Kora eats her chocolate more slowly, piecemeal, savoring, as much as she can, the layered chocolate and crisp wafers throughout the Kit-Kat. Roman then offers his version of goodbye. Kora's dark eyes cut neatly up the street, to Sparrow beyond as Roman begins to dark away, leaving - or not, a trail of chocolate in his wake.
Contrary to expectations, she wraps foil around the last two bars of the Kit-Kate and stuffs the remnants of the candy into her front pocket, then cleans the smeared chocolate off her fingertips by smearing them across her thighs. The gesture pulls the sharp joint of her wrist against the many bracelets she wears. She watches as Roman disappears, then looks back to Imogen. " - think it'd be worth stealing the food from the high school? Interrupting the supply?"
[Mila] "Hey.. yeah.. it's either name really." She smiled, no.. smirked and opened her mouth to respond to the 'your corner' question. And... then.. there was silence. Yup, someone wise once told her that you can't joke around with anyone. And, no matter how funny the prostitution jokes might be to her.. she didn't know Lila well enough to say them. So, she mused about them to herself.. and finally responded. "For today, yeah. The drug dealers kept scarin' the kids away. I wanted to make sure they could play outside on this nice evening."
"You're Lila, right?" Lightly hued lips formed into a polite smile. "It's nice to see you again." A beat. "Hey Resistance. How are ya?"
[Sparrow] "Just a gift," she says, "it'll help her and her packmates get on their feet if they need it."
she looks, notices her cousin briefly and perks up. Look! Roman! She smiled contently, and at that moment, she turns back to notice that he? Was gone. The Child of Gaia almost slumped, almost looked crestfallen. Eh, well, she'd see him at home.
"Mila, hey, glad to see you're up and moving," she smiles. She remembers a lopsided agreement. Payment for a rite (you live until the next moot and I'll teach you this rite in the mean time. If you die, I'll be disappointed.)
"I? Am holding up," she says with a grin, "it's a good thing."
[Imogen] Imogen's eyebrow lifts slightly.
"Montressor Sabine's not been in touch, then," she says, the phrase no where near a question.
"He had his own plans on what he wanted to do," she says. "I said I would assist."
A beat. "If it seems like he's not like t'do anything at all, I'll see what must be done."
[Mila] Hrmp. And as Sparrow may, or may not remember.. Mila had offered several times to exchange the Rite for one she knew.. but, the Coggie would not be shaken from the path of just giving it as a gift.
[Lila] Lila watches Roman vanish around a corner, and glances back at Sparrow, head canted. When he is gone, and she does not think he, like other No Moons she is familiar with, is going to slip back around the corner, come ghost-quiet around on the sidewalk and make the potential mistake of startling two galliards and an ahroun, a collection of Rage bright enough to burn a hole into the cement, give it enough time, bright enough and black enough to stain this place ugly, give it enough time, well -- only when she's fairly certain he's really gone, does she draw her green eyes back to Sparrow --
"Was that?" she asks, of the departed Roman. Was that him?
-- and back to Mila.
You're Lila, right - and Lila smiles, suddenly: a blooming thing. "That's one've the names, yes. Best one for the street, too. You've been here a month now, haven't you? What do you think of this place?"
[Mila] "Almost a month and a half, I'd suppose. It's.. an alright place. I think it's just a different vibe to learn to live with - being in a Sept and all." She responded to Lila.. before glancing over at Sparrow again.
"I'm up and about.. in one piece at least. Which, is a good thing too. Glad to hear you're doin' ok. I hadn't gotten a chance to come by and see you since the Moot. Yer packmate doin' alright too?"
[Kora] "Naw," Kora says, with a twist of her mouth that could not be considered a smile, that. "I'm afraid I've never met the elusive Mr. Sabine. Joe and I - " a faint pause, her expression stilling, " - were looking for him."
Kora pauses, quiet then, her fine features thinning with memory, stilling. "Before. I'll make the effort, again."
There is another pause; the pale creature's dark eyes are fixed on Imogen's face. Her own expression is neutral, wary, the curve of her mouth still, turned down at the corners in a thoughtful expression. "Joe won the challenge for Jarl, after the moot." There are words that she is not saying; there is a conversation here, under the surface of things. "Silence-rhya was there." Her voice is quiet, low. It does not carry, and there is a certain awareness of the kinswoman's privacy, too, inherent in the voice. She's offering facts, Kora. She is neither offering nor demanding confidences.
[Imogen] There is a distinct pause.
"Are you tellin' me for some purpose, or are you simply informing me of his whereabouts?"
[Sparrow] Was that?
"Yeah," she said.
Which was all she said, really. With quiet fondness. Mila refers to her packmate, and she shrugs.
"Roman's doing okay. He's having a go with this whole transition-to-a-city thing, getting a place helped, so we're pretty set. Still figuring things out."
[Lila] - being in a Sept and all - Mila says, and the golden-haired creature looks perplexed by this intelligence. She waits until Sparrow and Mila have finished exchanging news about their respective partners-in-crime. Sparrow says Roman's transitioning-to-a-city, and Lila grimaces, rubbing her forehead with the fingers of her righthand. " - every time I think I get used to it, I get itchy in my skin and want to take it off," she offers, simplicity itself. Just thinking about it -- just thinking about being hedged in by all these buildings -- just thinking about it makes her long for, at least, the caern.
Then she asks the Mila this - "Where do you come from?" Lila is actually interested. She doesn't have to feign interest.
[Mila] Mila nodded in agreement to the respective comments from both women. She genuinely liked them both, actually - and it showed in the soft smiles, the gentle tones and the interest she took in what they both had to say. Aww, Mila was a nice person at heart. Just don't tell the other Lords - they don't like that.
"Seattle.. awhile back. But, my remaining packmate and I spent quite awhile being wanderers.. We've been a lot of places - and, I'd guess we just got used to doing things ourselves."
[Sparrow] (skip me, loves, waitress is here!)
[Kora] "I'm not sure." The admission is a quiet thing, low and distinct and threaded with tension; Kora's dark eyes remain affixed to Imogen's pale features. The dusk has fallen into darkness. The streetlights have flooded the city's streets with amber circles of light. "I don't know which it is."
Then, her eyes cut away from Imogen, off to the Garou beneath the streetlamp. Her fine mouth is pulled tight, pale and straight. "I think you should know. And I think I should not gossip about my elders."
[Lila] "You say 'remaining,'" Lila says, a quiet thing. "When you and - " a pause, because the name she knows for the creature Mila runs with is the name the Guardians know, the name that isn't quite appropriate for a conversation across from a yard where children were playing (they've gone inside, scattered: stones), " - your brother left Seattle - if you're both from that city - did you leave to wander alone? Or did you lose somebody on the way?" There's a twist of sympathy in Lila's mouth, in the way the Fostern holds herself: they got used to doing things by themselves, and she understands that very well.
[Imogen] Imogen has her own tension - but it is a tight thing, coiled fair beneath the skin. It is betrayed only just in the line of her jaw, the set of her mouth.
Impossible, too, to know what the tension is. The subject, the suggestion of a cliath coming to her about her Athro mate or what Kora might have to tell her. It could be any of them. None of them.
Truthfully, Kora does not know the kinwoman well. Better than most, which does not say a lot in these days where every single person Imogen Slaughter knows is dead or otherwise gone. The point is not pity. The point is this: Kora does not know Imogen well, and the tension could be well-bred offence that Kora dares to broach the subject, it could be tension of the subject of Silence, or it could be tension at the prediction of what the cliath has to share.
But she is still, a cigarette burning between her fingers, and she is tense. Eventually, the stillness breaks. Imogen brings the cigarette up to her mouth, fitting it between her lips and taking a single, sharp drag.
"I don't think you should either," she says, finally.
"And I'm not sure I want t'hear o' his comings and goings from a second party. So." The words she's spoken have been wreathed in smoke. The last one is tight, a wire pulled razor sharp. She exhales the last breath, and takes another drag before pitching the fag into the gutter.
"S'leave it at he was there, shall we?"
[Mila] "Nikolai.." she filled in quietly in the appropriate pause.
And when she was done, Mila's tone remained quiet - a bit sorrowful. "We left to wander alone because of the losses we suffered in Seattle. There was naught left for us there and we needed some time to sort things out and to find a new patron.. We weren't always a pack of two, but that's where we stand, currently."
[Kora] I don't think you should either, says Imogen. Kora's dark eyes snap back to the kinswoman's face. She stares for a moment, her mouth a hard, visceral line in her face, her narrow shoulders straight, her spine pulled taut, straighter than it should be, gaining a scant half-inch of height by a trick of her well-trained muscles, decompressing the vertebrae, pulling herself unconsciously upward.
Then: "Yeah," says Kora, still looking directly at Imogen, the bag of cheese fries limp in her left hand, folded over, cooling, the brown paper bag, translucent with grease, rests just against her left thigh. The scent of the grease is strong, congealed now - no longer hot, sharp, intense. The snap has left the crust, and the grease soaked into the bag is doubtlessly being slowly reaborbed into the deep-fried tangle.
There is a sharp exhale of breath, then. " - that works for me."
Her tone is neutral, still and clear as cold-drawn water poured over a stone.
Kora looks away again, lifts her attention to Lila and Mila and Sparrow gathered on the street. Considers them. Considers the moot. Considers the matter of an Athro Modi so lost in his own rage he deems himself unfit to lead the tribe. Considers the moot again, because the former thought is too large for her, too impossible.
The edges of her mouth twist, then. From neutral to a faint, furrowed frown. Her tone remains neutral, and low. "Anyone tell you," quiet-like. She breathes out. " - about the kin kidnapped by the cursed ones?"
[Sparrow] "Well," she says. Strange that the full moon would wear optimism so openly, so freely, "this is a good place to rebuild. Somewhere new, somewhere different, and there's a lot of opportunity."
She is such an open book. If it flickers through Sparrow's mind, it reads clearly on hr face, in her posture, in all of her. In a way, it's almost lupine. The lupus born often have difficulty lying and, apparently, so does Sparrow. even her best attempts at being false fall flat.
"Hope this city treats you well."
[Lila] "I'd like to hear about those losses sometime," Lila says, seriously. Her mouth isn't curved now. Lila'd like to hear about those losses, because this is what she does: remembers those who have gone before. And this is also what she does: listen to other galliards, doing the same. "Maybe over a beer," she adds, less gravity. "What has you two pausing so long in Chicago?"
Sparrow mentions opportunity, and Lila gives her an inquisitive look, and the texture of her glance wanders back toward daydreamy, like she's thinking of something else, like she's a million miles away -- she isn't. "Opportunity, hm?"
[Imogen] There had been no censure in her tone - but the words might have been enough. The implication thereof. Kora's eyes snap to the kin's face, and Imogen meets her gaze steadily, unflinchingly, even as the Garou straightens, her spine lengthening.
Imogen does not have the same trick. She is so slight, it would have been negligible in either case.
What she has is the strength to withstand the implication of aggression. Something rare among kinfolk.
It only lasts a second, then Kora agrees, though her gaze does not soften. Kora looks away, and Imogen's gaze flicks downward, away over the dirty stained concrete at their feet. She looks up again as the Skald speaks. A pause, then a slight nod. "Joey left a talen fer me at my apartment," she says. "Told me tha' her cousin had been taken, when I went to return it to her."
[Mila] "Yeah.. sure. That sounds great - it's been awhile since I've properly told their story." Mila's tone was still quiet. She nodded and leaned back against the wall that she'd slid off of awhile ago.
"We decided to stay for a while when we heard about the war." And now, for response from her female side.. "and I found a kin, who lives here who I'd like to earn the right to claim." And she shrugged, moving on from that topic, which was a bit of a sore point lately.. "Plus, it was a big city, and like Sparrow said.. there's lots of opporunity here."
A pause. "Why did the two of you pick Chicago?"
[Sparrow] "You need to live in a city once, before living in the country makes you simple. But you need to live in the country, before the city makes you complicated."
She stops.
"Chicago is a city under fire. We came because the city needs Children of Gaia, and I think... that this is an experience that both Roman and I need to have. Clearwater's insular, and if we come back, we can bring something back that we can do."
There was a whole tangent in her eyes, stopped by lips that refused to divulge much more than that.
"But yeah, Chicago's a place that names and stories can be It's a city with history, and it has potential. A different kind of potential than Clearwater."
[Kora] "Did she tell you," Kora's voice is low, neutral. Her pale head swings back to Imogen, the look direct, clear. "that her cousin had your phone number on him, when he was taken?"
Then, a brief pause, a swinging glance back at the doctor.
[Imogen] A muscle tics in the doctor's jaw.
"No," she says, flatly. "She neglected to pass that on."
A beat.
"Bloody hell."
[Mila] "Clearwater.. what state was that in, Sparrow?"
Post a Comment