"I'm really not sure that's what it is," she says, reaching into her handbag to retriever her wallet, counting out the cash required for their meal.
It is drizzling out, and she has a loosely knitted brown hat over the back of her hair, half protecting it from the fine fall of rain. Fashionistas would call this hat a slouch-beanie. People like Roman likely just know it as that hat that most people seem to be wearing lately.
In either case, it looks fashionable, dark against her pale skin, against her redhair. A pale brown suede coat and brown leather gloves; add in brown boots and purse and Imogen's accessories all match. One should not be surprised.
Her jeans are dark, but her coat is open, offering the only splash of colour in the form of a pale mauve sweater. The kinswoman begins to remove her gloves, finger by finger, in preparation for their meal.
[Roman Turner] "Ya know, back home we had this place called Red's and they had the best chili dogs. Came with big ole slices of onion, cheese and a big ole dill pickle on top of the chili dog. It weren't till I came here that I ever saw a wiener with beans on it. Beans? I mean, don't take me wrong, I like my beans, but on my wiener?"
His dark stetson was wet from the drizzle, but not so wet it was dripping off the ends yet. Like usual this time of year, here he was in a jean wool lined jacket and those stiffly starched deep blue Wranglers. Looking like he stepped out of a Western Wear clothing add. The hat gave him a couple more inches in height which suited him just fine.
[John] The full moon is over with minimal bloodshed and broken bodies, yet now that Luna is beginning to swing towards a darker yet more peaceful series of phases John looks almost as much like a couch-surfing divorcÈ as he does a Modi belonging to a pack with a carnival barker masquerading as an Alpha.
Couch-surfing divorcÈs probably have fewer stalkers and some source of income besides well-meaning Kinfolk, but that's beside the point.
After Imogen and Roman have found a place to sit and Imogen has removed her gloves, a press of Rage comes out of the distance. Compared to its typical weight, he will hardly cause a seasoned police officer or a military veteran to run the other way, but the majority of humanity still feel uneasy around him right now. Beating up Fianna and spending hours upon hours walking around a city is an enjoyable enough way to pass the time, but it's draining.
At any rate, he comes out of the distance with a mostly-empty knapsack slung over his shoulder, winter jacket adding a layer of padding to an otherwise solid form. He doesn't bother stifling a yawn as he he cuts through the park. It's the only sound either of them have heard him make, is the cavernous, voiceless escape of air as he exhales.
[Imogen] "You know," she observes mildly, "I think you're just taking advantage of this moment to say 'wiener' as much as possible."
[Imogen] (whoops! I had hit send before I saw John's post. Adding more)
[Imogen] They get their food - Imogen a coffee and a hotdog, the former drunk black, the latter adorned with onions and tomatoes, ketchup and mustard and relish.
A picnic table is chosen for its isolation, and the kinswoman smooths down the hem of her jacket beneath her as she takes a seat, picking up her coffee first, while her hot dog balances on the slats.
"In England," she observes picking up a conversation from a few moments ago, "we frequently eat beans on toast." This is when John comes into the picture, yawning audibly, as he wanders through with a sagging knapsack on his shoulder.
"Long night, was it?" she says when he's approached.
[Roman Turner] He was still moving a little on the gingerly side, but that apparently hadn't stopped him from coming out for a free meal. Imogen mentioned he was taking advantage of saying wiener and that brought a little color to his face. He was more than grateful when John came in to view.
"Howdy John. Boy don't ya just look like something the cat drug in. Take a load off, sit a spell."
He liked John and it shown in his eyes.
[John] Although the creature moving down the path is Fenrir--they of the stoic, hypermasculine persuasion--and he walks with his spine straight and his footfalls measured and his head up, there isn't much concealing the fact that he did have a long night and he does look like something the cat dragged in. Imogen asks her question, and he snorts before attempting to convey what it is he wants to say without breaking out pen and paper.
He gestures over his left shoulder, then holds up his hands about a foot apart.
Pointing in front of him, mouthing Today?, leads to him holding up his hands shoulder-length apart.
It's worth mentioning he doesn't appear to have shaved since before he arrived in Chicago over three weeks ago.
When he's offered a place at the picnic table by the other Cliath he doesn't go so far as to smile or attempt a stab at friendliness, but there is something like gratitude to his expression when Roman speaks up. For whatever reason, the Modi has taken a shine to the significantly smaller and louder Ragabash. John bobs his head in a nod and sits himself down next to the teenager.
[Roman Turner] He did what any one raised proper was suppose to do. He broke his hot dog in half and offered the half to John.
"Ya look like ya could use a wiener."
As deadpan as they came.
[Imogen] Imogen's mouth twists slightly. "That good, 'ey."
Roman offers John his wiener, deadpan, and Imogen regards him with something like resignation, her eyebrow arching. "Proud o' that one, aren't you?" she enquires mildly.
[John] Roman's double entendre either goes completely over the statuesque Modi's head, or he chooses to ignore it for the sake of not providing positive feedback. In either case his weathered face remains entirely deadpan as he accepts the halved hot dog from the Child of Gaia, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he lifts the offering in what Imogen likely recognizes as his form of thanking a person.
He takes a huge bite out of the hot dog, and his chewing comes to a staggered stop when the kinswoman asks Roman if he's proud of 'that one.' His brow furrows in blatant confusion, and after a pause he decides pursuing enlightenment isn't worth the effort; he keeps chewing.
[Roman Turner] "My ma and pa taught me to share Miss Doctor Slaughter Ma'am. It's all I'm doing, sharing. Besides, I like this fella. He ain't like most."
For a few seconds he was quiet as he polished off his half of the wiener. Pushing his drink towards John with a mumbled (because his mouth was full) "Want some?" Offering the soda.
[Imogen] "D'yeh want to get another?" Imogen does not offer to feed Garou often - in fact, the question is not posed to John at all, but entirely to Roman, the southern teenager in a stetson hat in a big city.
[Roman Turner] "Yessum, I believe if ya don't mind and all, we'd like two more."
He was including John in the bargain. And he was giving Imogen his best smile on top of it.
"That is, if'n ya don't mind."
[John] Considering that he's homeless and long-term unemployed, never mind the fact that according to the US government he doesn't even exist, John does very little begging or outright asking for things that are not immediately necessary to his ability to survive. The one and only time he has asked for anything of Imogen, it was so he could sew his stomach back together so he could continue across town without being accosted by police officers. He has only been a city-dweller for three weeks, yet he's learned enough quickly enough that he knows that human lawgivers don't appreciate the sight of large, wild-looking males wandering around covered in blood.
At any rate, he hasn't finished his hot dog by the time Imogen offers to buy Roman another one. He seems to be reeling from being told he's not like most, or else is too far into a state of prandial bliss to pay too much attention to the conversation. John is a big guy, and requires more food in one day than Imogen likely eats in three to stay that way, yet beyond that first massive bite he eats as though he isn't entirely sure when he's going to see a meal again.
[Imogen] She retrieves the cash without fanfare, holding the bills folded between two fingers as she passes them over to Roman, wordlessly. Apparently she draws the line at actually getting up to procure food for them. "Should be enough for both. Drinks and hot dogs."
When the money is taken, she picks up her own hot dog, more or less untouched. She takes modest bites, and is likely the kind of woman who will not see another hot dog for another six months. Or at least not until Roman wants another outing.
"It's not charity," she says absently a few moments later, after Roman has left. "In case it matters."
[Adara Mires] (location if you don't mind? a dinner or something else?)
to†Imogen, John, Roman Turner
[John] At that clarification, John actually looks around as though there is someone else nearby to whom she might have been speaking. There is slight amusement written into the way he frowns, in the tension around his mouth, and after he looks back at Imogen, having concluded that yes, in fact, she was addressing him, the Modi flicks his eyebrows and takes a slug of the soda Roman offered him.
I didn't say it was, a creature with vocal cords might feel the need to announce. In John, it just seems to translate as affirmation: Alright.
[John] [We're at a picnic table in the park. DINERS ARE FOR THE WEAK.]
[Roman Turner] He snagged the bills and headed back to the hot dog vendor before Imogen could change her mind with a.
"Get anything for you, Ma'am?"
If she asked for something, he'd get it too while gone.
[Imogen] Imogen raises a hand, dismisses the offer to get her something - the hot dog and coffee she has is enough. Her gaze follows Roman briefly until he gets in the line up.
John acts confused as if she might be speaking to someone else, and though he does not portray precise sentences to her comment, he portrays intent and emotion easily enough. Enough so that Imogen can smirk, her own eyebrow arching.
"I did say 'if'," she notes.
[Adara Mires] She walked in the park, taking some time to enjoy the fresh air. She had been there for a while, her cheeks taknig a pinkish color from the cold. She was dressed in a flat soled boots, a pair of worn and faded jeans with a warm coat. Her lnog dark brown hair were loose, falling down her back. Her emerald eyes were looking around and her attention stopped on Imogen for a moment, a soft smile appearing on her pink lips.
She was going on her way when she felt the rage coming from the two men near the redhead. Her steps changed directions and she made her way closer, but slowly, in case they didn't want to be bothered. "Hello" She say in a soft, warm voice,
[John] [I lost my post give me a minute or five.]
[John] She did say if.
John, whose table manners are questionable at best, manages not to chew with his mouth open but does still try to clear food from his teeth as Imogen's talking. Lips remain together, at least, even when he finds himself laughing in that quiet, nasal manner of his.
He lifts his eyebrows again, a facetious cast to his expression as if to say Yeah, okay, then polishes off the hot dog. As he chews, his eyes drift away from the table to take in the form creeping closer. There is no territoriality in him, Roman having been here first and Imogen being more than capable of handling herself thank you very much, but Roman is off procuring more food. The male eyes her, wary rather than outright suspicious, and takes a loud swallow of soda without speaking.
The look on his face is expectant, as though he's waiting for her to introduce herself, or ask for money.
[Imogen] Imogen turns toward the woman who walks up and greets them, rather abruptly. It is not only the rage of the Garou which could have drawn her, but the breeding of the red-haired woman. There is history there, rich as loam. It hangs in the air around her, and touches her gestures, even as it shines through her bright hair, her dark eyes.
John looks at Adara expectantly, and at first- Imogen merely regards her with a deep and sudden focus.
There are very few reasons someone would come up and speak to them like this. After a moment, Imogen is sure.
Her own question gives words to John's expression, "Can I help yeh?" She is foreign, her English accented with a different nationality. She's frequently mistaken for certain English speaking colonies, to say nothing of Irish or Scottish.
[Adara Mires] She watch them both, the silent one and the talking kin. Her smile widen slightly as she look at Imogen "Help me? No not really" She say, her hands in her coat's pockets. "I thought I'd come over and introduce myself, since chances are we'll bump into each other once in a while" She say with a light shrugh
"I'm Adara" She tells them, while her right hand move out of the pocket and is offered first to John then to Imogen. She doesn't add that she's new. It would be fairly obvious to both of htem if they have been around after all
"I won't bother you too much. I just felt it'd be polite you know"
[John] If he were in an animal form, the Modi's hackles would rise about now. He doesn't bristle or make any noise, but he straightens so he isn't leaning against the tabletop, his hands going to his thighs in preparation to get to his feet. Eyes don't flick to Imogen at all as the dark-haired woman speaks, and he doesn't take her hand. His nostrils flare, as though he's pulling for something.
His eyebrows lift sharply, as if to ask Adara what?
So much for being polite.
[Roman Turner] He'd just turned back with a fully loaded Hot Dog in each hand when he spotted the female approaching his friends at the picnic table. One chestnut brow rose for a split second before he was eating up the distance between the now trio. Black stetson hid most of the Chestnut colored hair on his head. There were those cowboy boots along with dark blue stiffly pressed Wranglers. Soft wool caressed the line of his jaw where the collar of the wool lined coat lift and fell in the cool breeze. His stepped slowed as he got closer, then that smile appeared, all polite-like.
"Well boy howdy, I walk off and we get company. Howdy Ma'am. I'm Roman Turner. And you are?"
[Imogen] There is a brief pause - Imogen, perhaps surprisingly, follows John's lead - if Adara offers her her hand, she does not take it.
Roman walks up, all southern charm and friendliness.
"Best add the rest o' yer introduction this time," the kinswoman advises, "We aren't unfriendly -" says arguably one of the most unfriendly of the lost, "but we are cautious. If yeh speak low enough, yeh won't be heard." There is, in fact quite a bit of space around them - Imogen and Roman had chosen a table isolated from the humans, and with John and now Adara's presence an even wider berth has occurred.
[Roman Turner] He came around the table and set a hot dog down in front of John before setting his own down. Though his stance was relaxed, he didn't sit down just yet. An expectant smile still lingered, after all he was Ragabash and misdirection was his bread and water.
"Ain't everyday a purdy lady comes strolling up to the likes of us out of the blue. Why if I'd known ya were coming, I'd offered ya a wiener."
[Roman Turner] ((Sorry, had the neighbor stop by))
[Adara Mires] She raise a brow at John and Imogen's reaction, taking back her hand mouthing silently "Ooookay" Her smile return as Roman introduce himself "You must be the charming one" She say in a slightly playful tone. Then her attention turn to the three of them when Imogen ask for a full introduction
"All right, fine"She say "My name is Adara Mires, Black Fury, Cliath, Galliard. Most recently from Seattle" She say low enough for their ears only. She tilt her head "Now would you min telling me about you a little? And is there more you want to know from me?"She ask, the last matter fo factly. They could ask whatever they wanted really. She didn't have anything to hide after all.
[Imogen] Imogen's eyebrow arches slightly as Adara elongates a word, then uses the ever pointed 'Alright, fine'. "It's an introduction," she says, the edges of her mouth twisting up, "not a pound of flesh."
"They call me Imogen Slaughter. Kinfolk."
Tribe is absent, though her blood marks her clearly as Fianna; perhaps she considers it unnecessary.
[John] He seems to relax somewhat, not because Roman provides some semblance of physical security by his very presence but because his ease and--yes--charm take some of the electricity out of the air. With the second use of the word 'wiener' John seems to not only comprehend what Imogen was referring to earlier but finds some sliver of sharp humor in it: he snorts, relaxing by degrees that are easily missed by anyone not looking at him, and briefly peels his attention off of the stranger to acknowledge Roman's delivery of the not-charity.
Slowly, not relying on either the kinswoman or the Ragabash to do the speaking for him, John gets to his feet. He is not staggeringly taller than Roman, yet he's considerably bulkier, and has facial hair and breeding that leaves little room for question as to who and what he is. Digging through his knapsack, he pulls out a leather-bound journal and a pen. Rather than writing, though, he just flips to a page that has already been marked with glyphs and offers that up first.
Drawn in Blood
Cliath Modi
Under this, in English:
To humans - John
He gives her mere seconds to read his childlike handwriting, then flips to a clean page and scrawls out, the question marks reinforced by the furrowing of his brows:
Why leev See at el? Wer is pack?
[Roman Turner] "Ya want to know something about me?"
His smile widened as a hint of devilment entered the depths of eyes the same color of faded denim.
"Well let's see."
Rocking back on his heels with his hands in his back pockets as John showed the girl the book then wrote something and showed it again.
"Me, I done told ya my name. Let's just say I was born on the dark of the moon and I'm just another Cog in the wheel. Same level ya got too. Though I like long walks on the beach, Lucky Charms and spending time with my friends. I prefer country music and my favorite color is blue."
[Imogen] Imogen's gaze flicks toward the journal that John's written in, her fingers moving slightly as if in thought, before reaching over to pluck the pen from his hand without ever touching him, and turning the journal briefly toward her. In a quick stroke, she crosses out 'See at el' and replaces it with 'Seattle' in slanted and sharp edged writing.
A glance toward John, a raised eyebrow toward the spelling correction before she turns the journal back to Adara, and hands the pen back to the mute.
[Adara Mires] She nodded to Imogen "Pleased to meet you Imogen" She read John's note, grinning at Imogen correcting it "Pleased to meet you as well." She look up at him, being 5'5" and wearing flat soled boots, she was smaller than him "Well Seattle just didn't fit me anymore. Not enough of us, too many Galliards, no real threat to justify my presence here. I moved away. As for my pack...well some stuff happened. One just up and left, without any goodbye and I think it was too hard for everyone. It had been for me. So we disbanded."
Some sadness had crept in her eyes and voice but she blinked it away and her voice was normal when she spoke to Roman "Thanks ofr the earlier offer...I was very..generous"She grin "I might actually go get me some burger in a moment..not a fan of wieners" She say with an amused look "And I'm glad youlike music. I can play some pretty mean country music when I feel like it"
[Roman Turner] "Not a fan of wieners....."
It started with a little snort that turned to another snort and built to a full out laugh. He slapped his knee.
"Hot dang, I get it! Not a fan of wieners. That was a good one. I could go so many places with that."
[Imogen] "Roman," Imogen's voice is quelling. "For chrissake gi' the penis euphemism jokes a break, will yeh?" The sentence is delivered deadpan, though the phrasing was likely deliberate and not meant to quell at all.
A glance toward Adara, "A pleasure," she added by rote.
[John] There are a number of reasons, most of them scratched into the journal in glyph form, why Imogen might hesitate before taking the journal of a Modi and correcting his spelling in front of his peers. He doesn't tighten his grip on it to keep it in his possession, and when she hands it back to him, John tilts it around so he can read it. His attention is unevenly split between the Galliard's story and Imogen's correction, yet when he scoffs it's evident that it's amusement at her having the stones necessary to do such a thing and a vague moment of So that's how you spell it! that quickly passes.
He cuts a glance to the kinswoman, something that might have been a smile if it weren't so rusty coming across his lips, and holds up the book in that Thanks gesture of his. On the downbeat, right after Roman quips about going places with Adara's not liking wieners, he backhands the Ragabash in the upper arm with the journal without looking at him.
[Adara Mires] She chuckled, amused by Roman's words and how John and Imogen reacted to them. "Have fun taking that stement to any places you want, my dear"She grin loopsidly "For, msot of what you will come up with is true" She wink at him then look at them all again "Would you mind if I go get something ot eat and join you? I do't want to impose more than I have"
[Roman Turner] He snorted with laughter with the hit from the book even as he danced out of reach.
"Critics, I'm surrounded by critics!"
He darted in like a flash to snag up his hot dog before dancing back out of reach again.
"Fine, y'all have it your way. I'll just take my wiener over yonder and have at it."
[John] [SORRY GUYS WE WERE TALKING ABOUT PORN MEI IS POSTING NOW]
[Imogen] (WE WERE NOT TALKING ABOUT PORN, JAMIE JUST LIKES TO BE SALACIOUS)
[Imogen] "Sit down wi' yer wiener, Roman," Imogen says, gesturing imperiously. "Yeh're causing neck strain."
A glance at Adara, first when she admits there is perhaps more truth to what Roman says than not, her eyebrow stirring, then as she asks if she can join us. "Go ahead," she says absently. "S'enough space."
[John] John looks from Adara to Roman to Imogen, the expression on his face reading Wait, what? He isn't thick-skulled or mentally deficient, and it doesn't take too much thinking for him to put together the separate thoughts of "Black Fury" and "not a fan of wieners."
He doesn't look disgusted, necessarily, but he does look at her the way humans look at other people when they confess that they are serving as host to some sort of airborne illness. He takes a step back, nodding in greeting, then sits himself back down at the picnic table and sets about eating his meal, silently.
[I HAVE TO GO TO WORK I WILL BE BACK IN AN HOUR AND A HALF]
[Adara Mires] She smiled a little more as she noticed Imogen'sand John's reaction. She doesn't mind, really. She was used to it by now. She accepted who she was some time ago. After all, her orientation didn't define her, it was jsut part of who she was. And she was much more than that.
She nodded when Imogen said she could sit with them and she nodded to the woman, heading toward the hot dog stand. Her smile grew wider as her back is turned ot them, coming from the thought that two garou males were being ordered by a kin woman. Yep, she already like the serious woman a lot, and respected her.
She came back shortly after with only burger mea, no buns and a small fork. There was no sausages on her plate. Well, she lvoed meat..but hot dog sausages...not for her. Real italian sausages and the like were more tasty. She sat gracefully and started eating slowly, watching them.
[Roman Turner] He could make tons of jokes about the burger patty, though he was trying to behave. He'd returned to sitting next to Imogen because well...she said wiener. Though now and then he snickered, just dying to say...."You said wiener."
[Roman Turner] ((Sorry..."You said wiener" was his thought LOL! ))
[Imogen] And so Imogen sits beside a rather amused and snickering sixteen year old. One she does her level best to ignore for the moment while she eats her ...
wiener.
[Adara Mires] She ate slowly, watching them, sitting not too close to John whom expression earlier had told her they probnably will never be friends. She hadn't really expect anything less form a Get, but you know..one can hope.
"So, could any of you tell me a little about the state of the city and maybe a short who's who so I don't mess up? Not taht I expect I would, but you know, jsut to be safe?" She say with a small smile. Roman's amusement seem to amuse her back. She didn't look to be much older than him. Maybe 20 at most.
[Roman Turner] "Well to be honest, the best place to find out the er, state of the city is in the city itself. Or ya could go to the Caern and make it all official. As for who's who? Best way to know folk is to meet folk face to face. Cause well, it ain't polite to be tellin no tales out of school, ya know?"
His tongue flicked out, gathering mustard from the corner of his mouth.
[Imogen] A flick of her glance toward Roman, before she swallows her bite. "They call th'city at war fer now. S'what I tell every new kinfolk I meet," this is almost offhand, smirking, "so I might as well tell you. I don't know any o' yer tribe, but if yeh can get a Garou to tell yeh where the Brotherhood is, yeh can start by asking there."
[Imogen] (sorry guys, I was dealing with system stuff)
[Adara Mires] She nodded to Roman "Sure, I can roam the city some more and continue to bump into people." She shrugh, she didn't mind donig things that way to be honest "And would you mind telling me I need to do to make things official?"
She smiled to Imogen "Thank you for the info. I met one of my sisters, trying ot meet the other one eventually. I also know about the Brotherhood, trying to secure a room there actually, but so far nothing. As Roman suggested, I can make things offical..might help me get in touch with others, and find my place here"
[Roman Turner] He picked up on something Adara said pretty quickly.
"Well then, ya say ya done met one of your tribe, then she can show ya where things are. How to get in touch and make yourself official. How come she didn't offer ya a place to stay?"
He was slightly puzzled with that.
"And from what I hear, most anyone can stay at the brotherhood. Just go crowd in a room. Right?"
[Imogen] What Roman says is sufficient - Imogen instead takes a drink of her now cooling black coffee, allowing Garou tp speak to Garou.
[Adara Mires] She smiled to Roman "I think my sister just don't have enough space where she live to have me around. And it's fine. I don't want to crowd her. Though I'll have her tell me about what need ot be done to make my stay official"
She ate some more of her meat "As for the brotherhood, I was told to ask the managers for an official place."She shrugh "Anyway, if it doesn't work out, well either I'll live off the street for a while, or find myself a gig so I can actually rent an appartment"
She didn't seem really preoccupied with her living arrangements
[Imogen] Imogen flicks a glance toward Adara, "Yeh won't find many gigs here tha' pay well enough fer that, particularly if yeh're new to the area. Even established artists ha' a hard time makin' ends meet without a real job." A faint smirk touching her mouth.
"Better t'find someone t'pay fer you or find a bed at the Brotherhood than depend on a musician's coin."
[Roman Turner] He actually squirmed a little on his seat.
"Ya need to make your pledge to the Sept, surely your sister ta ya that? As for a place to sleep. Well, I reckon we can offer ya a place out of the weather at my Pack's home. We got an old drafty church and Miss Kora would expect ya to behave, she's Fenrir. If ya don't follow the rules, ya will know it right quick. But like I said, it's a place out of the weather till ya find yourself a pack and place."
[Adara Mires] She make a face at Imogen's words, scruching her slightly upturned nose "Really? That bad huh? I'llcheck it out a little anyway...I'm very very good."She say with a slight smile "Any idea what else I could d? I mean keeping a job when you make peopel uncomfortable isn't the easiest thing"
Her emerald eyes move to Roman "We haven't had time to talk much, but I'll call her to tell me all the details. And your offer is very generous. I cna pay for my motel room for a few more nights, but if you don't mind giving me the adress, I'll try to meet Kora and have her tell me the rules. I don't want to mess things up, especially for oyu since you're the one who invited me"
[Roman Turner] It's an old church, ain't much to look at but we're working on it. And largely it is full of Fenrir, which makes some a mite uncomfortable."
He gave her the address, and general directions.
"Over in the Green. As for jobs? Our job is to fight in the war, like our fathers and father's father's and mothers and mother's mothers have always done."
[Imogen] I am very very good. "So are they," Imogen smirks faintly. "And they've not got the price o' rage."
She returns to her meal as Roman and Adara discuss the details of living arrangements.
[Adara Mires] She chuckled at them both. "I guess you're right" She say to Imogen. Then she look at Roman "I think you're wrong on this one, Our job is not only to fight the fight, it's also taking care of our own, remember those before us, doing our best to preserve Gaia"She said the last softly
"We're not just killing machines...though some probably are, and well they're very good at it. Still, fighting for fighting will make osme lose their focus, the knowledge of why they fight. We need more than simply fighting."
She grin at him "And well..also, fighting and our sacred duties don't pay the bills."She smiled "That's why i'mlooking at the Brotherhood or your church as good options to stay at. Sadly, I doubt I'll find something that pays except music and I've been told that's not really an option"
[Roman Turner] He studied the girl for several long moments like he had found something he just couldn't identify. Finally after a little squirming he said what was dying to come out.
"Ya just talked so much in circles it was like white noise."
[Imogen] Roman speaks, and Imogen arches an eyebrow, but says nothing.
The red haired kinswoman is slight, delicate. She is not built for war though the torso visible through her open jacket, covered by an angora sweater is fit, well-cared for. She sits poised even on a picnic table, eating a hot dog.
The last bite is swallowed, and a dab of ketchup is wiped from her knuckle with a napkin then crumpled by her hotdog wrapper.
[Adara Mires] She blinked at his comment "Really? Damn. All right..well there's more to our job than just fighting."She grin at him "MNa, if I ever tell you a legend, I'll have to keep it simple. GEat warrior was born, he fought and die gloriously..the end" She say teasing him
"Seriously, sorry about earlier. Didn't think I was so hard to follow" She say, finshing her meat, then look at Imogen "May I ask what kind of work you do?"
[Roman Turner] "No, no, you see the word fight in this case means so much more than a physical fight. Our lives are so much more than just a physical fight. It's the fight for survival to preserve our Kind, our ways, our very being. It's the fight to serve the Mother. It's the fight to protect our people from the world that grows ever more crowded and corrupt. It's not something we do after a nine to five job, in our free time. It's twenty four seven every day and night of each and every day. I'm not saying each waking moment we are going out to pick a physical fight with something. Ya see?"
[Imogen] She glances at Adara as Roman finishes speaking, a small curve to her mouth as she gets to her feet, gathering her garbage. "Answer you when you two are finished, shall I?"
With that, she walks toward the trash receptacle to toss the remainders of her meal away.
[Roman Turner] "We are an endangered species, Miss Adara. And like every creature on this world, we struggle to survive."
He paused to take a drink of his now watered down soda.
"And hate to tell ya, but I done heard the Get story in every form so far. Fury warrior was born, she fought, she died, the end. Same for my Tribe, only they add something. Gaian was born, he fought, he made lots of love and died. The end."
Yes he smiled when he said it.
[Adara Mires] She grinned at Imogen's comment then looked at Roman with a smile about the story "What? She died? We never die, Fury are immortals"She say with a nod and playful smile "Kidding, we do our thing like everyone else. Too often it end with death. And my bad about earlier. Most of the time, when one of us say fight..they mean it literally. And you're right. I"m not going to debate it.
But I like something call eating and sleep in a bed. As I don't have a...mate.." She say the word in a very unsure way "Or a pack for now, or kins that can help me out, well I need to do something to get some money. I doubt that everything at the Brotherhood or at trhe Chruch is free you know"
[Roman Turner] "We chip in where and how we can at the church. Like I said, it ain't much but it's got a roof over most of it. And heck, I ain't got a mate either, don't make me anymore or less than I am, right?"
He took another drink from the soda.
"Anyway, ya have the address and are welcome to crash if ya need to."
[Adara Mires] She nodded "I do and thank you. What I meant about mate is that for some...it's a financial source amongst being a life partner and everything else. Certainly not that it defines you or anything." She smiled to him
Her attention move back to Imogen "It seem that we're done ifyou want to come back to the coversation"She say with a small grin "And, I'm ready for your answer if you still want to tell me"
[Imogen] Imogen is returning as Adara speaks to her, arching an eyebrow slightly. "I was throwin' out my garbage, no hidden meaning."
A pause as she takes her seat. "I'm a forensic pathologist - fer the county. 's someone who studies manner an' cause o' death."
[Adara Mires] She smiled to Imogen "I hadn't meant it that way. An it's very useful job you have. Not that you didn't know that laready" She watched them all "Well if any of you need help with something, I'm offering."She look at Roamn "Well you, I might see often if I crash at the church"
Her eyes move to Imogen and John "I can give you my number in case you need anything" She shrugh slightly "Depend on what's needed, I can be pretty useful"
[John] John takes so long to eat it's almost as if he's fallen asleep mid-meal. He allows the verbal Ragabash and the kinswoman to handle the passing-along of information to the Fury as he eats. When she offers up her number, John is sucking soda through his straw: it squawks when Adara's eyes move to him, and he pointedly looks at Imogen.
[Roman Turner] He grinned, and offered his number to Adara,taking the attention away from John for a moment.
"Well folks, I need to get back for my shift. Miss Doctor Slaughter, Ma'am, thank you for the wonderful meal and company. John, I still like ya and ya know you're always welcome at our place. And Miss Adara, it was a pleasure to meet you. If ya have a need, ya have directions. Just knock."
[Imogen] John looks pointedly at Imogen and there is a brief flicker of her gaze in return, a drawing down of the eyebrows the narrowing of her gaze, a silent question. Imogen does not speak if her expression can do so for her, and it seems that being around the mute only exacerbates this habit.
She turns her attention back to Adara, "Frankly, yeh'll probably need me before I need you," she says this without a shred of boasting. "My job as yeh've said, is useful." She picks up her purse and sets on the picnic table's edge, undoing the clasp before she reaches into it.
This is clearly a habit - she does not need to rifle through the contents of her handbag. It takes only a second for her to retrieve a clip of business cards and remove one, offering Adara one caught between two fingers. "Call th'mobile if yeh need anything. I'm rather -" a beat, "adept at clean up, and I'd rather know about it when yeh make the kill than when it shows up on my doorstep."
[Imogen] (SORRY ROMAN!)
Roman gets to his feet, making his farewells. "Don't mention it," says the red-head. "I'll see yeh in a few days, I imagine. Goodnight."
[Roman Turner] "Night y'all."
A single touch to the brim of the stetson was given and then he was turning to wander off down the trail.
((Thanks guys, must sleeP!))
[John] As Roman prepares to leave, the Modi extends his non-dominant right hand to shake with him, clasping his arm at the wrist rather than taking him by the palm. A nod takes the place of written word, and he claps him on the elbow, much lighter than he'd smacked him with the journal, before releasing him to go on about his night.
[Adara Mires] She nodded to Roman "Thank you, I'll keep both your number and the Church's adress in mind" She say with a smile and offered him a small wave. Her attention shift to Imogen, taking the card "I'll remember that and hopefully, if I ever need your services, I'll be able to repay the favor. Thank you" She say with a smile
Finally she look at John "I know you don't talk, but I"m sure you can text, so that's when my number comes handy, or you mgiht even give it ot someone who can call me if you or that someone need me" She put her hand out "Permission to have your pen and write my number in your book?"
[John] She loses him at 'text.'
The look John gives her goes from mildly interested to completely flat in about half a second, as though she'd just uttered a forbidden word. He sets aside the half-consumed beverage cup and sniffs, dragging his left hand down the lower half of his face before returning his attention to the Fury. When he responds--actually responding instead of simply staving off the urge to sigh--John shakes his head No, then retrieves his journal from wherever it wound up before.
[Imogen] Imogen makes a faint dismissive tilt of her head. Either the kinfolk feels there is no need for payment of her services or she's given up on Garou ever being able to come up with anything. "Just call me beforehand, rather than makin' me deal wi' it afterwards. S'enough."
She flicks a glance toward John as he reacts to Adara's sentence, but says nothing.
[Imogen] (Sorry guys! I know there are only like... three people posting, but I somehow keep losing track that it's my turn)
[Adara Mires] She watches his reaction to the word text. She tilt her head with a frown "Sorry, didn't meant to insult you John." She say, keeping her eyes on him for a few more seconds "Anyway, I was just offering"
She look at Imogen "Don't worry, if something happen, I'll call you" She look at her empty plate "Well maybe I should leave you. You've been nice enough to help me out. I'll let you two hang out"She say, starting to get up
[Kora] (hey darlings, please do not wait for me. I logged in and then said to me: totally silly for me to join your scene right? since I have to work in the morning. Oh, morning. So: I am not actually joining, but it is not because I am rude, just because my body requires sleep.)
[John] Her eyes are on him, and while he can feel the weight of them as he scribbles on a fresh page in his journal, he doesn't look up. Up comes his free right hand to wave away the apology, or the notion that she insulted him, or else just to get her to let him concentrate on spelling.
About the time Adara starts to stand, John has finished scratching out his message. He looks up, flummoxed but not frustrated, and taps on the table with his palm to get her attention.
Dont us fon. No insalt.
Mak sakrifis to malstrum - wil tak mor then.
[Imogen] "I appreciate it," Imogen's eyebrow lifts slightly at the comment about letting them 'hang out', her mouth stirring, but she does not speak on it. John writes something, but Imogen makes no effort to read it, instead, reaching into her purse to retrieve a bronze cigarette case, and flicking it open.
[Adara Mires] She look down at the piece of paper, reading it, then she offered John a warm smile "All right, Ican understand not wanting to us one. They're a necessary evil to me. I can't howl all over the city..seems liek people don't like it" She grin "And thank for the tip. I'll seek him out, do my thing." She half offer her hand to him "It was nice meeting you John"
She look at Imogen "And you as well doctor." If she meant something by her earlier comment about hanging out, it didn't show. To herm aybe they're just friends, or she's hiding her thoguhts really well. "I hope to see you again, without the need of your expertise"
She smiled and start heading out, a small wave in the direction.
[Imogen] "Goodnight," she says, absently.
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