Cigney's Troubles

[Imogen Slaughter] It is an overly warm and humid day, the sky overcast, the air begging for rain that does not fall. Chicago's air is not pleasant - it never is, really, carrying bits of dirt with every wind blow, which is continuous. The heat and humidity only serve to make it feel worse.

Two weeks and one day from the start of Autumn and it still feels like summer.

Still, she is outside, a cup of tea sitting on an iron wrought patio table, a file folder in front of her. She keeps a continuous hand on the pages as she sits in front of the cafe, smoking her cigarette and looking at the files which coldly lay out the way some poor bastard died.

She is dressed in jeans - a light cloth jacket tailored to her slim and slight body. Her hair is up, tendrils of falling free to catch in the breeze. She pushes some back out of the way, tucking them behind an ear with a careless ease.

[Cigney] The monday of a holiday weekend. The tourists are clearing out now, but probably not before the fireworks at Navy Pier after the sun sets. Only then would the city regain some sense of normalcy. She'd come walking. Dressed in a white cotton just above the knee sundress and white flats. Her hair worn loose in long waves down her back, nearly grazing her hips. The white contrasts against sun kissed golden skin. A strand of seashells tied to a piece of leather cord around her throat.

She's looking down at the ground, as if thinking really hard about something. Not really watching where she's going so much, but able to navigate the sidewalk traffic. Her expression hints at a bit of sadness, heaviness, as if somethings very wrong.

[Imogen Slaughter] The kinwoman catches sight of the woebegone girl from about half a block away. She watches her approach with something registering like bemusement, her mouth twisting, her eyebrow arching.

When the girl is close enough to speak to, and indeed, is on the verge of passing the patio on which Imogen sits, the doctor addresses her.

"Cigney," she says, pausing for the girl's attention.

"It's traditional to lift yer eyes from your feet when you walk."

[Cigney] "Hmmm...oh..."

Cigney looks around and blinks at her whereabouts, and then Imogen.

"Sorry..."

She strains to put a smile on her otherwise sunny face, but something's really bothering her. The silvery grey eyes don't shine nearly as much as they usually do. The young woman looks at the Dr. and mimics her actions, pulling a strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear.

"Guess I was just thinking..."

[Imogen Slaughter] Her mouth twists in a smirk as she lifts the cigarette to her lips. "If you must think with your head down," suggests the doctor, "Perhaps you should do it while sitting."

[Cigney] She blinks, and then nods. Taking a seat and folding her hands on the table, looking down at them intensely. Quiet.

[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen's breath exhales sharply - a symptom of her amusement. "I did not necessarily mean here and now," she comments, as she leans forward to stab out her cigarette.

"But stay if you want."

And Imogen turns her attention back to her file folder, her pen and her notepad full of scrawled handwriting.

[Cigney] And then it just happens, Cigney spilling her guts to Imogen, whether the Dr. wants to hear it or not. The truth is Cigney doesn't have many others to just sit and talk to, especially concerning matters of the Nation.

"Yesterday I was at the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial minding my own business, right? There was just no peace in this city with everyone coming and going. I couldn't even hear the river. I was desperate for grass. Like...just something to dig my fingers into you know? And then I was people watching...okay maybe more than people watching. I was practicing my look, you know? Like that look you give people when you're sizing 'em up? Like when you're really evaluating how much of a threat they are...like the look that you do..."

Cigney looks at Imogen and puts her hand up to motion to her face...then bites back and drops her hand immediately. It goes unspoken...that look Imogen gives her when she's serious.

"Cause like I don't do that and people think I'm naive or like stupid".

Her troubles cause her to slip into her california style surfer talk, not meaning to...usually reserving it because of the way it makes her sound. Deduct 100 IQ points...

"And then he took my picture without even asking me, and came down to the park to like taunt me with it or something. He's such a jerk!"

Cigney's chest lifts and falls with sharp short breaths. One very upset calif surfer girl...

[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen has made all efforts to turn back to her own business - clearly allowing the girl to sort out her own problems. Mere moments later, Cigney unleashes a deluge. Within the first half of the sentence, Imogen's mouth tightens slightly in resignation - then she puts her pen down, looking up.

That look that you do - the kinwoman arches her eyebrow, perhaps unconsciously giving an example of precisely what the Fenrir Kinfolk means.

The expression fades and Imogen is once again merely silent and still as Cigney unloads - or at least begins to unload - her problems.

When she pauses for breath, Imogen is quiet for several seconds, "So what did you do?" she asks, finally, grasping something socially appropriate to say.

[Cigney] Cigney draws in a deep breath to center herself, and continue the waterfall of words.

"Oh I took it away from him, his iPhone I mean. Roman says I shou be real proud of myself for being able to do it cause Paul's a no moon and all, but really I can't now. He's gonna tell Kora about the bank photo's, and she's gonna be mad. How could she not be mad at me? I mean, this is huge sept business."

Her squeezes her eyes shut

"Fucker..."

[Imogen Slaughter] "Wait," Imogen raises a hand. Cigney is jumping details, like a stone skipping over the lake.

"What bank photos? What's he going to say about them? And who is he, anyway? D'yeh mean Paul? A Full Blood, I presume?"

[Cigney] Cigney pauses with a blinkas Imogen stops her, coming back to herself for just a moment. She lets out a long tortured sigh. Then draws in a deep breath lays half her body down on the cafe table, the side of her face laying on the side of her outstretched arm.

"He was taking photo's of a bank downtown. Something about wyrm tainted money, and getting an in before sending the case to someone else. I can't remember the name. But there were two photo's of two girls...one's name was Candice...Burke maybe? One was in legal or something".

She's trying to remember the facts.

"Paul..yeah, that jerk. He's the same tribe as Roman...I can't remember. I mean normally I would, but now my head's all messed up. Anyway, he needs those pictures of the girls that I erased. Then he starts talking to Roman about getting my cooperation cause August isn't ready..."

Her eyes remain tightly shut.

"It's all his fault, but now I'm totally going to get blamed for it. It's not fair! What if Kora tells me to get lost? I never meant to jeopardize Nation business..."

[Imogen Slaughter] "Cigney." Imogen's voice is even. "Please do sit up, your dramatics are rather unbecoming."

And when she has:

"You are blowing this out of proportion. You ha' no idea how Kora will react, or even if she will. And what's more is tha' the Garou knew what his phone held and he made no effort to make backups. And he let yeh ha' the phone anyway.

"At worst yeh're guilty o' disrespectin' a Garou's property. He was careless enough not to safeguard important information and is now tryin' to blame you."

[Cigney] She snaps up as Imogen reprimands her, eyes looking at her hands in her lap.

"But what about every body else? I don't anything I did to reflect badly on Kora...she's like...been so nice. I'd do anything for her. If any of this comes back on her..."

Complete and utter misery.

"Hey...Paul said August was his." Air exclamation marks here with her hands.

"What's that mean exactly?"

She orders a black coffee while she's here along with an ice water. Now looking at Imogen with a troubled expression.

[Imogen Slaughter] "If any of it comes back on her," Imogen says, "you will see what you can do to make up for it. That said, I am fairly sure that Kora is capable of weatherin' a wayward kinfolk who deleted a few things off a phone. Christ knows, there's been worse transgressions here." Her mouth draws tight in thought.

The expression subsumes at the next question, replaced by something resembling mild surprise mixed with resignation. Her eyebrow arches, her lips pressing together.

"He meant that she was his mate," she says. "You are familiar with this aspect o' the Nation, I hope."

[Cigney] "Yep, just making sure t means the same here as it does back home. For a mated full blood he sure is a lusty son of a bitch. August deserve so much better".

Her eyes meet Imogen's...

"So you know him?"

Not waiting for Imogen to answer, Cigney slouches back in her chair and speaks her thoughts.

"I gotta be the one to find Kora first".

[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen shakes her head, "Not well," she says. "But I am familiar wi' the term." Her words even, concise and even tight.

A pause.

"It would be good fer you to give her a heads up," she says, "but it would not be good fer you to approach her as you did me."

[Cigney] As the waiter puts the coffee down in front of her, she looks down at it and then at Imogen before feeling her shoulders slouch...pushing it away from her.

"Ooookay...."

Cigney scowls a little bit. Okay sure she's not exactly the Fenrir "grrr" kind, but come on, who reprimands the cowboys and swamp boys for their slang? She catches herself before rolling her eyes.

"Thanks Dr. Slaughter.."

The kinswoman gets up then, looking at the tall black coffee once more, then at the Dr. and pushing it towards her.

"My thanks for the therapy session? Not like I need it in my system, right?"

Half hearted smile.

[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen lifts both eyebrows at Cigney's barely controlled reaction. Her awareness is sharp - her perception penetrating, "All I mean," she says with a slight edge, "is get yer story straight in yer mind before yeh tell it. Gi' her the facts and important details and not yer emotions. Yeh can likely tell her everything she needs to know in about four sentences."

She shakes her head slightly at the offer of coffee. "Don't mention it," to her thanks. "I've my tea anyway."

[Cigney] ''Kay then"

Cigney removes it from the Dr's table and pays her bill. Then moves off in the direction she'd come...wishing she'd had her cellphone on her. Still not exactly knowing how to explain to Kora what happened in exactly 4 sentences.

She casts a smile over her shoulder at Imogen.

Yeah, that was the look she'd been talking about. Totally cool. Nothing ever bothers Imogen. She's an island.

Off into the sunset.

[Cigney] [thanks for the scene *laughes* Sorry if she annoys Imogen.]

[Imogen Slaughter] "Goodnight," and with that, Imogen returns to her file folder, her mask firmly in place, every emotion carefully dismissed. She lights another cigarette at some point. Refills her tea. Her night goes on.

[Imogen Slaughter] (Pfft. I had a blast. I like the difference in personalities! *grin* thanks for the RP)