[Lindsay Jacobs] The unassuming little bit of a thing has made her way through Grant, collecting the bits of something she's hidden away here and there that one wouldn't do to be found with on one's person. Everything is safely stashed in the backpack now, and she's ready to head back to Lake View, and the sweet deal that she stumbled into last night.
After a hot dog, though. She can't get enough of those hot dogs.
This is what finds her standing in line at a cart, playing with the end of a braided pigtail with one hand, the other curled protectively over a strap of her backpack.
[Rain] This false start to Spring in the city is not making Rain hopeful that the Midwestern chill would ever lift, that Chicago would rise above the snow and the freezing rain, and the salted streets, that there would be some sort of epiphany, some sort of breaking through, not unlike the dawn through the half light of the prime, not unlike awakening, that it would surge forth and sudden be... something. She didn't know. She just knew it hadn't happened yet, and tomorrow was April.
April, and the forcast was snow.
The Gaian girl called Imogen round about mid-afternoon, all pleases and respectful tones, a little worried. Perhaps even mildly concerned. She explained the letter she'd received from the newly appointed liaison, and that the only person she knew to whom the word liaison would naturally cleave, the only one who could shoulder in naturally, bear it up with confidence, that would be Dr. Slaughter herself, bent to serious wiles as she was. Of course Rain didn't say it this way, no. She stammered through it with a measure of embarassment as to her naivete, and an apology or three.
But she's well enough, now, to offer to buy the Doctor coffee for her time. She's certain enough in herself -- which is a transitioned thing, a transcendence -- to stand quietly aside while Imogen reads, to not fidget or tap her hands at the margins of the paper sleeve around the paper cup that kept her coffee in and the cold mostly out. There's a measure of grace coming forward, to temper that pervasive good will.
But impatience, yes, for she is still young. Rain's eyebrow lifts, curious, waiting for some sort of reaction she might spy in the more established, more collected, more everything kinswoman who had once told her that kins with guns were, she can't quite remember, something about likely to get dead.
Get killed.
Imogen's grammar was better than all that.
And where might this exchange be taking place? At a picnic bench, not far from the water, not entirely hemmed in by the bush-hedge that was starting to come back to life. Starting, but not yet fully committed to the task. Barely awake.
[Imogen] It is a warm day, though cloudy. It has brought out the denizens of Chicago, eager to take part in the beginning of spring, their jackets open. There was even one hardy sole dressed in khaki shorts and flip-flops, determinedly ignoring the chill that seeps into his bones.
Imogen is dressed in charcoal grey slacks, a pair of respectable pumps. Her black leather jacket is open over a perfectly white and pressed blouse. Her hair is brilliant against the grey sky, her skin an unearthly pale, as if she were porcelain rather than flesh or blood. She can feel Rain's gaze on her, searching for any hint of a reaction in the doctor's impassive expression. She finds little, merely the move of her eyes from one side of the page to the other, then back again. Her eyelashes are copper. Red-tinted, the irides of her eyes are dark unfathomable blue.
Her coffee cup is on the seat of the bench, but neither woman is sitting.
When she is done, she looks up, passing the paper back. "What did yeh want to know," she asks.
[Lindsay Jacobs] Well, don't they look nice. She could use a couple of bucks... walking around money. She eyes the women while waiting, looking for open bags or other so easily breached security.
[Rain] Rain is wearing dark jeans, paired with a pale pink button down blouse. A plain white cami peeks out just above the top buttoned loop. Her coat is the same brown coat they've all seen all winter. She owns one, and while what's underneath it may change to fit her employment opportunities, she hasn't found cause to replace her coat. Yet. But soon it'll be warm enough to trade it in on something lighter.
Her messenger bag is resting on the table beside her. It's not currently looped over her body, it's freed. Close enough to be within arm's reach, though, so any snagging up of bags would have to be done quickly.
She's wearing sneakers, too. Just in case this goes toward giving chase or anything silly like that.
"I'm not sure I understand it, 'sall. She says she speaks for me to our Cousins. Can't I just go to Roman, or Kora all the same? I trust them to speak for me. I don't know her at all," she says, her brow furrowing somewhat as she lifts her chin to indicate the letter.
[Imogen] Imogen's jacket is open, making it harder for her to feel the tug of her pockets. Her handbag, however, is looped up over her shoulder, caught between her arm and her body. It is clasped shut as well - not an easy target.
"Roman's yer tribal elder, is he not?" she asks. When the answer is received - it is yes, of course - she says. After this, there is a pause. Imogen, for whatever reason, frowns - it is barely a line between her eyebrows, but a frown nonetheless. She picks up her coffee cup, lifting it to her lips. Takes a deep swallow.
"This isn't t'subvert that," she says finally, almost abruptly, as if a decision was made. "If yeh're comfortable making a statement to yer tribal elder, and yeh feel the problem will be solved that way, then by all means, continue to use it.
"But if yeh can't, or perhaps it involves half-bloods of multiple tribes -" that is when her shoulder moves, slightly, a hint of movement.
"S'when you can go t'her and she can bring it forward."
[Rain] This seems to answer Rain's question, somewhat. Enough to drop the worried touch from her expression. Imogen shrugs, barely, and Rain echoes it, broadens that to a little sigh.
"So it's more that we can take things to her, and less that we have to?" Hopeful. Rain understood her place in the pecking order pretty well (at the bottom, thank you), but adding layers of red tape and titles above her confused the once-Lost kin.
It is fair to say that she is no hawkishly watching her bag, right now. She sips at her coffee, nods a bit as if she's thinking a thing through and arriving at decision of her own, as well.
[Lindsay Jacobs] She abandons her quest for a hot dog, edging closer to the two women with her eye on the messenger bag. It could be nothing, but then the backpack would have turned out to be a gold mine.
What they're saying should make her take pause, but she's not paying enough attention the conversation in favor of trying to determine what might be in the bag. Their attention is focused on the words though, and she counts on this to work in her favor as she moves closer to the table, hand snaking out to the strap of the bag.
[dex+stealth]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 7, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6) [WP]
[Imogen] (per+alertness)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 5, 5, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Rain] [Per + Alert]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 6, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Imogen] (go ahead and post again, Ange!)
[Lindsay Jacobs] Her fingers catch the strap and it tugs off the table, slung over her shoulder as she continues on her way. She holds the bag in front of her as she walks, so that it isn't just flapping obviously at her side. Her steps speed up just a touch, and she makes her way around the corner to find a quiet place to investigate her new acquisition.
[Rain] The backpack would have been a mighty score, indeed. Not so with this Gaian's personal effects. There's a folder, heavy bound, but it's filled with a sheaf of paper, leaves that bear out only sheet music from a local company's repertoire, if she gets that far. There's a wallet, and it is distended, gorged, but the contents are singles, and fives, and far, far too many coins.
But Rain carries more cash that most might -- she doesn't have an credit card, or atm card. There's about $80 in very small bills and coins.
Her scarf is bundled up in there. A cellphone slipped into one of the pockets. There's no ipod, or laptop, or other gadgetry. A note book and a pen slipped into its spiral binding.
And a light firearm. Which may give her a little bit of pause.
to†Imogen, Lindsay Jacobs
[Lindsay Jacobs] Time to go. She breaks into a jog, putting as much distance between the bag and it's former owner as possible.
[Rain] [Per + Alert: I'm gonna say with any successes I realize my stuff's gone... cuz it was right there...]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 5, 5, 5, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Rain] She's been quite wrapped up in their conversation, or just generally oblivious, it seems. Rain happens to reach back, to set her coffee down beside her messenger bag when --
-- the Unicorn starts, steps back from the table and abruptly shifts her attention from Imogen to the noticeable absence of her stuff. Rain, being pretty daft today about her surroundings, glances around the table, under the table, wasting precious time.
"Did you see where my bag went?" she asks, not yet quite alarmed, perhaps allowing for the possibility that some silly Theurge awakened it and it walked off on its own. No, that seems less than likely. Her brow knits and she glances out around the park for anyone looking suspicious, or maybe for her bag running along on its own.
[Imogen] Imogen shakes her head slightly. "This," she gestures toward the paper briefly, "sounds like 'help', not encumbrance. Bit o' fancy worded 'help', t'be sure. But yeh can go to either. And if yeh can't get -" her voice cuts off, merely as Rain turns her head and Imogen's own eyes drop to the empty table. Normally a perceptive person (though clearly, not when it matters), she does at least recall that the bag had been there.
"Had it there, didn't yeh just?" she asks, almost rhetorically as her gaze moves away from Rain to scan the park's population, then glancing briefly toward the buildings - they're near one of the museums.
[Rain] Had it there, didn't yeh just?
"Yeah." The word is low-voiced, rolled at the back of her throat, almost guttural that way. Almost echoing the feral things that run silently in her blood.
But there's really only so much she can do about it. If the knapsack had really run off, turned a corner and continued onward blessed by broken line of sight, all the Gaian could do was feel baleful for a moment, and then frustrated, and then lift her hands upward in a brief moment of why the hell me. There was no recourse in this setup, however much she may have wanted it.
"Damn," she says, and the sound rolls hard against her teeth.
Then a twist, a wry bit of bemoaning mixed in with a smirk. "Y' wanna do me a favor, and be the one to tell Roman I lost my phone?" It's jest; Rain can do that much herself. And it wasn't lost, it was stolen, not that the finer points matter.
[Lindsay Jacobs] [Linds is going to feel SO BAD when she realizes Rain is kin! :( Thanks for the scene, ladies. I have to run out for a bit.]
[Rain] [Worse when she meets Last Watch *teases* Thanks for the play, Ange. Have a good evening!]
[Lindsay Jacobs] [Good point! :0 !! Thanks!]
[Imogen] Imogen's gaze continues scanning the crowd, a line forming in her brow, annoyance flickering across her face.
Rain's question comes just as she is deciding it is pointless. They cannot merely walk through the crowd to find the thief. They haven't even the faintest idea where the thief came from or where they went.
The annoyance deepens, then clears as Imogen turns to refocus on Rain. "D'yeh know yer provider?"
[Rain] [Sorry for the delay! I'm working on a post now! Work called :( ]
to†Imogen, Lurky Durky, Michael Carroll
[Rain] "No," Rain says, brows knitting again and she reached up to scrub her heel against her forehead. "Um, it's one of those pay as you go types, and it's the end of the month so it's almost out of minutes, but it's got people's numbers in it. Maybe they'll just trash it, and not start calling around the Nation..."
Heh. Because wouldn't that just be lovely. Rain exhales again, trying to let go of the frustration that's building again.
"At least they didn't take my coffee," she says. Looking for a silver lining. At least she'd already eaten lunch. At least it wasn't her turn to buy groceries.
[Imogen] The kinswoman's mouth twitches - a symptom of her dry humour. "Didn't label any o' them 'Tribal Elder' or 'Sept Liaison' did yeh?"
[Rain] Dead pan. "Do I look like I'm itchin' ta get thrashed?"
[Imogen] She doesn't miss a beat. "I hear it's a pastime fer some."
The kinswoman slides her purse off her arm, undoing the clasp to retrieve a cigarette case from within its depths. She thumbs it open, retrieving a zippo and lights up, easily. She exhales her first breath, turning her head away before turning back.
"C'mon," she says, without any further adieu. "I'll buy yeh dinner."
[Seth Cohen] In a city like this, large gatherings draw pickpockets and con artists right out of the woodwork. Not that there's a lot of woodwork, but there are a lot of criminals. One of them slips expertly past a small crowd of pedestrians not ten feet from the kinwomen. A wide grin splits his face as his dark eyes find Imogen. He raises a gloved hand high above his head in greeting. "Hey, it's you!"
He dodges his way around a heavyset sight-seer, giving the tourist and friendly pat on the lower back as they pass. A friendly pat that nets him a wallet, which quickly disappears up the sleeve of his old fatigue jacket. A moment later he is standing at the bench, still smiling wildly. "Crazy out here today, ain't it?"
[Rain] Imogen hears it's a pastime. Rain snorts a little and steps to the side to bin her coffee cup. She makes a reflexive grab for the bag that is no longer where she left it -- pickpockets and con artists, indeed -- and has to stop herself, willfully, from grinding her teeth.
This is the point where she'd be slipping its strap over her head. But no, idle hands instead smooth over her jeans until her thumbs find purchase on either belt loops or pockets. But they don't still there for long before her hands move onward, upward, into the pockets of her brown coat.
Rain eyes the approaching friendly with a little bit of wariness, which would be understandable if he knew what she'd just gone through or if she knew what he'd just done. Maybe she was psychic, all-knowing, all-seeing, and that's why she didn't trust him immediately.
A welcoming smile slowly blooms. So, we'll go with "she's just having a bad day."
Rain glances between Seth and Dr. Slaughter, and then answered Imogen's offer first, with a softer tone and clear gratitude. "Thanks. I'd appreciate it."
[Imogen] Imogen turns her head slightly as someone shouts out "hey, it's you", her gaze narrowing immediately.
He says it is crazy and Rain smiles, pleasantly. Imogen for her part arches an eyebrow, "Didn't take a bag from 'ere just now, did you?"
How's that for welcoming.
[Seth Cohen] Rain smiles and he immediately turns on the charm with a bright grin, broad wink, and a quick "Hey, how you doin'?".
Then Imogen breaks the moment by suggesting he may have stolen a purse. He actually seems offended, his smile turning into a hurt expression. "No? Why would you even think that? I am a professional, Doctor. If I had lifted a bag from here, I wouldn't hang around to chat with the mark. Jeez..."
[Rain] Seth's expression turns wounded, perhaps playfully so. Rain rolls an unamused sound at the back of her throat.
"Well if any of your professional affiliates do show up with this Mark's stuff, I'd appreciate getting it back. Ain't much, but it's mine. Or were mine. Until about ten minutes ago."
Yes, how's that for greetings?
"Otherwise, I'm fine, thanks," she says, recovering her friendlier mood, partly. "Yourself?"
[Imogen] She raises a hand to ward off his injured pride, "I'm just checkin'," she says, before turning her attention between the two of them. "Ha' you two met?"
[Seth Cohen] "No, I don't think we have. Name's Seth..." He steps forward, his smile resurfacing as he extends a hand to the younger of the kinwomen. "Me and the Doctor are very close, I'm surprised she hasn't introduced us sooner. Was there anything important in your bag, sweetheart?"
[Imogen] Me and the doctor are very close, I'm surprised she hasn't introduced us sooner - "That's sarcasm," the kinswoman interjects, lifting her cigarette back to her lips, inhaling deeply on the filter.
[Hunter] [THAT WAS AN AWFUL QUICK INTERJECTION DOC]
[Rain] "Hi Seth," she says, and Rain withdraws a hand from her pocket to shake his. She's not too skeptical for this, just now. Not yet. Give her years and she may get there. "I'm Rain. Though I s'pose I've answered to sweetheart in the past..."
This last is an attempt at something lighter, a bit of breaking wryness that lets her intrinsic warmth and good will begin to filter back into the evening. Her handshake is firm, solid, and shortlived. Just long enough for him to notice the calluses -- maybe -- on her fingers.
"Maybe not important by anyone else's standards, but I wouldn't mind my music back. Mine. Heh. It's really the company's." A little pause. There's something else, obviously, and that worry is painted across her features, but Rain isn't about to up and tell them the bandit made off with her gun.
No.
That would be admitted to carrying it, concealed, without any sort of permit or documentation.
[Seth Cohen] Imogen objects to his assertion of their familiarity. Seth smirks, keeping his eyes on Rain as he speaks. "That's just the way she pals around, don't pay it any mind. As far as your stuff goes, I'll look into it. Between the pawn shops and the fences it's a lot of ground to cover though. Can't make any promises. Why don't you give me your phone number and I'll call ya if anything turns up?"
[Rain] Now that... was just not funny.
"Because they took my phone?" Irritation bristles in her voice again, muted, made mild by her gentler-than-most disposition. It fades rather quickly. "But, um, thanks. I appreciate it."
[Imogen] Imogen glances at Rain, her gaze even in the face of the Gaian Kin's irritation. Her dark gaze moves to Seth. Compared to both - an irritated, somewhat stressed kinswoman and a rather jocular kinsman, she is cool, restrained.
"Gi' me a call if yeh find anything," she says. "I'll pass it on t'Rain."
[Adara Mires] She was walking in the park, heading toward the museum. The weather was nice, not warm but one can't have everything can't they? She was dressed in flat soled boots, jeans, a tank top under a hooide and a light jacket. Her medium lenght auburn hair was let loose, falling over and past her shoulders.
Her meerald eyes found two familiar figure, well one was familair, the oher one she has seen once but haven't fogotten about her. She rarely forget anything after all. She head in their direction, a warm smile on her face.
"Good evening Rain, Doctor Slaughter"She say in a friendly tone, thn tilted her head at Seth "And to you as well"
[Seth Cohen] Imogens suggestion causes a slight shift in his demeanor, just a hint of exasperation makes itself visible on his face for a moment. Dark eyes shift from the doctor to Rain as he poses another thought. "Ooooor...you could just give me your address?"
Again that smile surfaces, his posture returns to that of an overconfident young man. He practically oozes forced charm from his pores as he leans casually against the bench. "See, if you do that and I come up with the purse, I could just drop it on by. And ya know, this city's kinda rough. I could check in on ya, just make sure you're..."
A thought suddenly occurs to Seth, freezing his pick-up in its tracks. "Wait..." Again he turns his attention to Imogen. "She's not...ya know..."
His mime skills need work, but by the wild gesturing he seems to be asking if Rain is Kin, like himself and Imogen. Or if she wants to dance. It could really be either one.
[Imogen] Imogen's eyebrow arches upward and she allows Seth to go on quite a bit longer than is necessary, one edge of her mouth twisting up.
Finally, she says, "She is."
[Rain] It's Seth's lucky day, maybe. Rain is kin and, by matter of fact, she does like to dance. Either way his charades can be interpreted, the answer remains the same.
It curls her mouth up into a pert smile, something genuinely warm, honestly accepting. A bit of her own truer temperment showing through. The Unicorn can't stay angry for too long, and Seth's charm -- because she reads it as this, charm, not wanton manipulation (which it may be!) -- is eroding the veneer of agitation she'd worn when he arrived.
Rain glances over to Imogen, to see if she shares the amsuement, this little inkling of mirth. Imogen tolerates it, which is like approval. Really.
"That's quite kind of you, Seth, but my ... roommates, see, they're not much for company they've'n't met." Her voice is honeyed, Southern-sweet and slow. She can roll those consonants together and make sense of them, mostly. And she can smile, boy can Rain smile when she has a mind to.
"Hey, Adara," she says to the Galliard that joins them. The Rage that follows her in doesn't prick along Rain's skin quite as keenly as before. She weathers it better. Stands slightly straighter, but doesn't back away.
[Rain] [Alright, guys, I hate to do this, but I just got hit with a horrid headache. (I am closing one eye to type this, since it seems to help... I need to bow out, gracefully and quickly. Would it be easier on you for me to write Rain out somehow...
... or just let you guys assume her into the background, and then away at a convenient interval? VOTE!]
to†Adara Mires, Hunter, Imogen, Monika Kyzlikova, Seth Cohen
[Seth Cohen] "Son of a bitch. It's so fuckin' hard to get laid in this town. Everywhere you go, it's 'Oh, I'm claimed' or 'Oh, I get furry' or 'Get your hand off my tit'. I thought Chicago would be way more fun than this." Adara makes her prescence known, though the brush of her Rage actually does it before her words. Seth immediately falls silent, very likely praying that she didn't hear the "furry" part.
[Adara Mires] Her smile grows as she stop near Rain. Closer to Rain than the other two. Simply because she knew the Gaian better than she lnew the other two. "How hae you been Rain? It's been a while" Again. She never seem ot be able to see the busy kin constantly, but it was fine. Gir; had her life to live and she seemed to be doing well, that's all that matters
"How have you been Doctor?" She ask the oldr woman
Then she grin at Seth "Really? It's that hard? From what I heard it's quite easy. Maybe you don't look in the right places" She shrugh "Or maybe you need to work on your approach"She smile to him, she was teasing the unknown man.
[Imogen] (I can have Imogen take Rain away when she leaves - should be about half an hour. GO!)
to†Adara Mires, Hunter, Monika Kyzlikova, Rain, Seth Cohen
[Rain] [You are my hero, Mei. *takes offer, runs!* Thank you all for the scene! I hope to catch you guys again soon. *hugs* *disappears*]
to†Adara Mires, Hunter, Imogen, Monika Kyzlikova, Seth Cohen
[Imogen] Imogen answers Adara mildly, "I'm well," she says. "Yourself?"
A glance at Seth and his sudden silence. A turn of her attention toward the Garou. "Find yerself a place to stay alright?" she asks.
[Seth Cohen] He clears his throat at Adaras comment, his eyes are now fixed firmly to the ground. "Just seems like all the sexiest girls are tied up in some bullshit..."
[Adara Mires] She smiled at Imogen "I'm doing pretty well thank you. And I"m staying at the Brotherhood for now. My best friend is my roomate, I've been asked to look after the place. And since you're here, I was wondering if you'd mind taking some time to meet with me to talk about a few things. It shouldn't take too long, but I know you're respected and pratical. I'd like your opinion on something"
She ask the woman, her tone firendly and quite polite. Not submissive or anything, but she respect the woman she barely knew.
SHe grin at Seth "Tell me about it."
[Imogen] A line forms between her brow, brief and transient. A muscle moves in her jaw.
A glance at her watch. "I've got t'get on," a brief glance at Rain, who has been promised a meal, "ha' my number do you?" Adara does. "Gi' me a call tomorrow, and I'll find some time t'get wi' yeh, alright?"
[Adara Mires] She nod "I do. I'll call you" She exchange some small talk with Rain then smiled and wave at the young woman
"Have a good night you two" She watch them go for a while before her attention turn to Seth
[Seth Cohen] "Actually, I've got to go ahead and split myself. There's money to be made in this park, and it's not over here. Nice meetin' ya." With that, he slips off into the crowd, fading from view with practiced ease.
[Imogen] Imogen and Rain head off in the opposite direction.
(sorry folks, I'm nodding off here. Thanks for the RP! Goodnight!)
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