(some stuff)
[Roman Turner] "Ah, ok I didn't miss much then. Cause that's about the argument going on when I left."
He grinned a little as he added.
"Heckling. That weren't heckling. It's only heckling when the target is sharp enough to get the gist of it."
[Riddle Me This and Bella] *A rough snort and a shake of his head. Owen not the most charming of hosts, he instead stoops to look at what Imogen's working out.*
He was disrespectful. That much I recall...
*Words tight around a lungful of mind altering smoke, Owen is polite enough to offer the joint to Roman from afar.*
[Imogen Slaughter] "You were heckling," Imogen reasserts, but the twist of her smirk shows at least her amusement.
Owen speaks of disrespect, the kinswoman glances at him, her gaze drifting briefly to the joint before back up again, an eyebrow arching, "One cannot expect much better than that, can one?" the question is rhetorical as she turns the page for Owen to look at. He says he does not have an eye for aesthetics. Perhaps then he cannot judge what is put before him.
But she has a concise and sharp way of drawing her lines, and though her writing is incredibly angular, it is legible. And she does, in fact, have an eye for aesthetics.
[Roman Turner] ((Ack! It wasn't refreshing!))
[Roman Turner] He grinned and muttered.
"Only to those that got it."
Stepping across the roof to accept the joint from Owen with a nod of his head. One deep draw and he offered the joint back to Owen with a faint cocking of his head towards Imogen, like maybe offer it to her? Before he started making those little near snort sounds that came when you tried to hold smoke in your lungs as long as possible despite your body wanting it out.
[Riddle Me This and Bella] Suppose you can expect respect. Doesn't mean a person's smart enough to give it... I've heard more of your triumph's than that suit's.
*The spliff is dangled to Imogen between long fingers, as Owen takes back his sketch pad with a squint.*
Is that a seating area? I can plant some ground cover behind it if so, keep things cooler than slab...
[Roman Turner] Owen made that little smile show again, even as smoke ebbed out his nostrils. Leaning in he took a look at the plans then pointed towards the upside down plastic pond liner.
"Ya gonna put fish in to eat the skeeter larva?"
[Simon] The rooftop wasn't a place he frequented. It was a good enough idea and he wasn't about to ridicule it, but what brought him back up to the rooftop was curiosity more than anything. His job was to make war and he didn't always understand the pursuits of those who saw the world as anything less than a constant struggle. Still he was curious enough to see, and perhaps even to attempt to understand. So there he was curious and cautious as he stepped onto the grounds with his backpack over his shoulder. If nothing else this would give him a chance to look out over the land since Adara had asked his opinion about security... A good offense was always a much better defense but no defense was stupidity.
[Riddle Me This and Bella] *Brows furrow. He hadn't thought as to mosquitoes. Trust a farm boy to think of that.*
Thats a good idea. It was just to collect rainwater for the garden, but a stock of fish will put nitrates back into the soil.. Combat the natural acidity - help with the overall PH.
[Imogen Slaughter] Owen says she can expect respect and Imogen's mouth twists faintly, "Not particularly; though I can choose not t'take disrespect."
She reaches up to take the joint, pinching it easily between her index finger and thumb, before lifting it to her lips. She inhales, letting the fumes percolate through her lungs, as she passes it back.
"That would work," absent in answer to Owen as she adds in his addition.
A brief pause, "I'm guessin' yeh want aesthetics fer -" a pause, "the spirits. More than anything. That about right?"
[Roman Turner] "And eat them skeeters."
Simon came through the door to the rooftop, earning a glance from Roman as he made a motion for the pass to come back his way.
""Ya can plant them marigolds between veggie rows to help repell them insects ya don't want. And we can order Lady Bug eggs and Mantis eggs cocoons to set in the garden so when they hatch they can help with aphids."
[Michael Carroll] Michael slips up onto the rooftop shortly after Simons arrival. Dressed in his typical jeans-and-tshirt style, he is prepared for another long night's toil in the garden. A large bag of potting soil is cradled on his shoulder while he pushes the access door open. There is a long pause as he examines the collection of faces gathered in the worksite. "Fuckin' excellent. Many hands make light work. Got your soil, Owen. It occurs t' me there hasn't been much discussion about reimbursin' me for th' materials I buy."
He grins and moves to the spot that he prefers most for napping, dropping the bag with a heavy grunt nearby. The thud causes a small yelp to emit from beneath the tarp. Curiously, the Irishman lifts the heavy plastic and glances below. What he finds there causes him to stand bolt upright. He levels his gaze on his packmate, his expression a bit hurt and incredulous. "Oh, what th' hell, man?"
[Simon] Simon was looking curiously at what was being planted more than anything at the moment. He was trying not to interrupt or fuck with anything that might be on it's way to one day producing food. They were attempting to make more efficient use of the space alloted to them which always made sense. Efficiency was something any Shadow Lord could agree with when it served a practical purpose.
"So how much food is all this work going to produce?"It was a somewhat sterile question. He might as well have asked the expected nutritional output per square foot. Still it seemed as good a place as any to start... It was better than ~Nice umm... Dirt~. The question wasn't directed at anyone in specific it was one of those open ended things.
[Riddle Me This and Bella] *A rasping chuckle, throat burning from thick musky smoke. The theurge shakes his head before taking the joint back from the Fianna kin. A toke before passing it along. Green eyes skate to Simon as he saunters into their midst, but the wyrmfoe goes unaddressed but for a blink of acknowledgement.*
The aesthetics are for the kin and true that relax here. St. Jenny wanted a sitting area of some sort. Something about "deterring combatants". As to repellant and spirits, That I have in hand, from a planning standpoint.
*Michael's arrival draws as close to a smile as he's yet to muster. Up until he throws a sack of soil onto Owen's kin. The theurge crosses towards the lupus bitch now well out of the way of so much gathered raise, clucking lowly to soothe her nerves as he grumps.*
Firstly, you're more than paid in free rent and pot. Secondly, Bella's been chasing cows again. We gotta get that goddamn fence up...
*Simon's question is answered curtly.*
Enough to cut produce costs by 15% monthly, if they keep it maintained religiously.
[Roman Turner] Michael got a lift of his chin in way of greeting. Adding to the cow chasing comment.
"She can't help it if she likes her meat straight off the hoof. And cows don't run fast as deer do."
[Imogen Slaughter] Her phone chimes again and this time, Imogen's gaze flicks briefly toward her handbag, before turning her attention back. "Ah," she says, a sound of acknowledgement rather than anything else.
"S'alright if I get it back t'yeh tomorrow, is it?"
A glance at Simon and Michael are the only greetings afforded to either of them. When the spliff is offered again, she takes it, inhaling before passing it own.
[Riddle Me This and Bella] Course.
*A gruff nod, theurge half under a tarp with a skittish lupus.*
[Michael Carroll] "Yeah well, I'll get right on th' fence as soon as I'm done wi' this damned garden and th' fuckin' late-night surveillance. And by th' by, I'll be doin' th' fence by myself. Because you, my friend, are a giant pain in th' ass t' work with. Now give me that." He leans forward and pulls the joint from Owens hand, taking a long pull before turning his gaze on Bellas paw peeking from beneath the tarp. "An' you're a giant pain in th' ass, too. Stop chasing cows."
A few more puffs before the joint is passed on to next in rotation. He stares long and hard at the single paw, then moves his gaze to his packmate. With a sigh, he pats the Theurge on the back as a silent apology. For yelling, and for dropping potting soil on the wolf. Remembering his manners, he turns to greet the others. "Evenin', Roman. And you as well, Wyrmfoe. Pleasure t' see y' again, Doctor. Anyone for a drink?"
[Starla] The rooftop seems to be the popular place to hang out nowadays, especially with all the work going on. How she got here remains a mystery, but it isn't long before the troublesome Gaian kin is bounding up the stairs to the roof after inquiring in the kitchen's where all the foot traffic was going.
She peeks out first, arching an eyebrow at the gathering of Garou, her head tilting to the side as she slips in. Gloved-hands tuck into the pockets of her winter coat, a thin, cotton scarf coiled around her neck to keep warm. Black hair was tumbles around her round, freckled features in two loose plaits, the tufted ends brushing against her stomach. "Seems like the party's up here."
[Imogen Slaughter] "Right then, I'll drop it by fer yeh tomorrow."
A glance toward Roman, "Can yeh get back on yer own okay?"
Michael offers a drink to anyone and the redhaired kinswoman glances at him briefly, offering only a shake of her head. It would seem the doctor is forever leaving as Michael offers a drink.
"Working party," to Starla, "Grab a trowel."
[Roman Turner] "I'll take a drink."
And then he was answering Imogen's question.
"Yessum, I can find my way frojm here."
Starla got a wave
[Riddle Me This and Bella] *Bella's whining woefully from beneath a tattered tarp, Glasswalker chuffing and intoning awkwardly in lupus, urging her to calm down and follow him. Out to the car. Crawling backwards from the bitch's hidey hole, Owen stands and gruffs.*
Work for tonight is more or less over, Have to wait on the topsoil to settle, and only time will do that. Overnight should see it firm enough to plant in. You can tread it down if it suits you.
*He notes Starla with an incline of his head, before trading his packmate a blunt for a bottle, shoving his shoulder roughly.*
I've got to take the kin home. You staying for a watch, or sleeping until you're up?
[Starla] Starla steps in, and moves off to the side to stay out of the way of anyone leaving. Her attention perks at the soft whining coming from the wolf under the tarp. She looks down at Bella, a small curious smile spreading on lips as she looks up to Owen, "Have a good night, Owen."
She swings her gaze towards Imogen, and then Michael and Roman, pulling a hand out of her pocket to waggle fingers at Roman. "What're doing, Roman?"
[Simon] He nods his head in response to Owen when he gets an answer then looks back down at the soil."Fifteen Percent isn't bad... Means they can pass the savings on to us. You gettin' a cut for this?"He asks Owen with a bit of a smile."Nice to see people doin' something that doesn't necessarily involve breakin' shit for a change."Though the Full Moon wasn't exactly complaining about having to break shit all the time. It happened to be something he rather enjoyed.
He hears a second complaint at the wolf and his attention shifts down to Bella and he eyes the creature curiously before looking around at the others."Sad really... They come into our forests, cut down our trees, grow their cows in our sacred lands... Slaughter our kin to near extinction and we're the ones who have to behave ourselves lest they come after us."He says as the usual bitterness sinks into the Full Moon."One day..."He says glancing at the wolf and offering a hint of a smile.
He catches sight of Starla and a smile grows on his face as he turns his attention back upon the kin. Her voice caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end but that was far from a bad thing. He watched her quietly a few seconds before turning his attention out at the world around them."Just a little visit."
"Came up here to survey a little... Adara wanted some tips..."He says in general to anyone who might be listening as his attention turns towards one of the closest ledges.
[Roman Turner] "I came to help, but seems most of what can be done is done for the night, so seems I can walk ya home., Starla."
[Michael Carroll] Most people seem to come or go when Michael is offering drinks. But he does it with great frequency, so that's to be expected. This time, in fact, he's leaving as he's offering drinks. He nods at Owen and casts another quick glance at Bella. "I'll ride along with y'. I've got some time t' sleep before m' watch, and I doubt I'll be able t' do it under th' tarp t'night. Leave that bottle for Roman an' th' others, plenty more at th' house."
As quickly as he arrived, Michael makes his exit. There is a nod of farewell to the others, as well as a quick promise to report anything he sees on watch immediately. He also ensures that his packmate does, in fact, leave the bottle. Chiding quietly and good-naturedly as they leave: "Can't believe y' were just gonna take that bottle an' leave them with naught, y' fuckin' lush..."
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