Currently the moon is in the waning Crescent Moon phase (28% full).
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 63 degrees Fahrenheit (17 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southwest at 9 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.94 and steady, and the relative humidity is 55 percent. The dewpoint is 47 degrees Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius.)
It is currently 15:01 Pacific Time on Mon Jul 16 2001.
Walker Safe House(#2832RAJL)
This small tenement building, is a work that any interior decorator would be proud of. The building is somehow filled with light, and space. Despite the fact that the room is far from large. Mirrored surfaces and lush, green pot plants are much in evidence - jarring only slightly with the video cameras that perch unobtrusively in various locations. A small sign on the wall lists the number of apartments upstairs as eight. There are no names next to the apartment numbers. Downstairs leads to a very thick door, with no visible method of being opened - except a keypad next to it.
The lobby branches off into what appears to be a small recreation room; for use only by residents and their guests. Much like the rest of the building, mirrors are prominent. There is a pool table set up in one half of the room, while the remainder is dominated by a large home theater system, with an incredibly expensive-looking couch in front of it. The couch nearly screams out, 'Don't spill anything'. For those who might, there are also two matching side-chairs, and a bean-bag on the floor - far too close to the television to be good for anyone's eyes.
The TV's on and again tuned to an afternoon quiz game show, but nobody appears to be sitting on the couch or any of the chairs to watch. A closer inspection reveals a canine form stretched out on the bean bag with a pair of keys set on the carpet in front of his muzzle. He still isn't watching, but by the way he wags his tail after certain questions, it's apparent he's listening and thinks he knows the answers.
This may be a wolf, but he's rather small for one. His coat is a variegated set of browns and grays, with a few large black blotches along his back and head. The only real distinguishing feature on him are his paws, which are all the color of weathered sidewalk.
Coming down from her room, Dizzy has hands in her pockets and is humming a tune to herself, badly. She starts heading for the door outside when she sees the lupus on the beanbag. It's not Daisy or Sophie, she knows that off the bat. Dizzy walks up next to the television, "Hello?" she asks the chair's occupant.
Corey flicks an ear at the melody, and lifts his head to see who's coming. He barks a greeting, somewhat oblivious to the confusion of identities.
Jonathan enters the rec room from upstairs. Entering being an odd way to put it. He more or less tumbles down the stairs and lands on his face. Ouch.
Dizzy looks left and right and then back at the small wolf pushing back the left side of her bangs behind an ear. "Um, I don't really understand wolfspeak yet," she admits sheepishly.
Corey parts his jaws in a grin, seeming to enjoy a joke. Neither does this one. He twists his muzzle to face the stairs, and the awful racket created by the other cub.
Jonathan lifts himself to his feet, then dusts off his clothing. "Damn stairs." he mumbles, and then walks towards the others. "Hi." he says waving. "Sorry about acting like an asshole before, I get like that sometimes. Feel free to slap me if I do it again."
Dizzy smiles at the stumbling cub, "Hey Hops. Do you know who this is?" she asks, motioning to the lupus sitting in the beanbag.
Jonathan shrugs. "Dog." he comments, and then moves to slump in a chair. "It is either another cub, in which case I'd say Hi, Or an elder, then it would be Hi Rhya, or just a dog, in which case, make sure it doesn't stain the floor."
Corey seems utterly amused by Jonathan. He managed some stairs with four legs, and that one couldn't handle stairs with the two he was born using? After listening, though, he picks up the keys in front of him between his teeth, gets up and walks slowly over to where Jonathan's sitting, and proceeds to lift his leg mockingly.
Jonathan gives the dog one swift, uncerimonial kick in the side, and then pulls his legs up onto the chair and out of his reach. "See, Dog."
Dizzy blinks at the dog's actions. If it is another garou, which she's pretty certain this one is, then there is only one Glass Walker that fits his MO. "Core?" she asks, incredulously.
Corey tumbles away from Jonathan with a short whimper at the kick. Anything else would require letting go of his keys. After standing back up and looking at the side struck, he looks at Dizzy and moves his head up and down. It's him.
Dizzy gets down on her knees to hug and fuzzle the little wolf. "It is you? This is wonderful!" She turns to scowl at beer-boy, "Don't ever do that again!"
Sophia comes down from above, having barely rolled out of bed and thrown on some clothes to come watch TV. The little skirmish doesn't appear to even register with her. She smacks her lips a couple of times, trying to wake up. "Sup, guys. Gmrnin." She mutters, eyes still half closed. She starts looking around for the remote.
Jonathan shakes his head. "Sorry Corey." he comments. "I didn't know it was you." and then he waves him back over, legs lowered.
The TV's already on, and Alex Trebek is now congratulating the program's winner. Nobody seems to be watching, though. Corey merely wags his tail and grins at Dizzy, and nods to Sophia as she comes down. He'd vocalize a greeting, but has his mouth full at the moment.
Noticing her roommate just got up, Dizzy grins, "Good morning Sophie. Or rather, good evening." She goes back to the little wolf, "So Core, did you get your clothes rited first?"
Corey sits down and glares at Jonathan. Apology obviously NOT accepted, Hops should know better than to kick strange wolves inside the house. He shakes his head to the other ragabash, but can't explain what did happen, or that his clothes are right now in the dryer downstairs.
Jonathan sighs. "Well jolly good then." he mumbles, and gets up from the chair. "Can't do anything right." he says, looking away from Corey and storming off upstairs, past Sophia.
Sophia stops her hunt for the remote and looks at Corey. "Whaju say? Din't qui'catch that." She rubs her eyes and yawns, and when she opens them, she's slightly more alert. Once again, she ignores the commotion.
Dizzy shakes her head at beer-boy's exit, the boy would do so much better if he just paid attention more. She stands up and grins back at Corey, "So, let's see you change back."
Corey, unable to figure out how to express what he needs to say, pads a few steps away, and tenses a moment. He shifts up to crinos and stops there, and tries to gesture that he won't shift further, and to wait a few moments. Maybe if he took those keys out of his mouth he wouldn't look so silly doing it, but he doesn't think about them until he walks to the basement door.
Sophia chuckles at Dizzy. "Don't think you want him to go past there out here... he still doesn't have his clothes fixed on."
Dizzy ohs, and covers her mouth giggling. "Well, go on, get some clothes on boy. I'll take you out for some coffee or something in honor of your first change." She glances over to her roommate, "Wanna come? I'm paying."
Corey looks rather sheepish for a 9-foot wolf. He quickly gets the basement door open and slips through without banging his head once.
Sophia nods. "Sure. That sounds like fun. Maybe we can take Corey to a mall or something while we're out."
With that, Dizzy realizes, "We can shop for some furnature, for the appartment!"
Corey returns, his human features still ruddy with embarrassment. He's wearing his black shirt again, now nicely fresh from the dryer, but the jeans definitely aren't his usual pair, being more faded and worn. No socks, no shoes. "Hi. I, uh, figured I may as well get in some practice with lupus while I did laundry. Kill two birds with one stone."
Sophia smiles. "Good idea. Uh... both of you. About the furniture, and the practice, I mean." She glances down at Corey's feet and says, "You gonna go like that?"
Dizzy pulls her car keys from a jacket pocket and nods toward Corey and his bare feet. "Yeah, no shoes, no service."
Corey follows Sophia's glance. Oh. "I left my shoes in the apartment. 'Scuze me." He bolts up the stairs and returns quickly, footwear in place, and wallet in pocket.
Sophia follows quickly after him to grab her own wallet, as well as her backpack, the notorious Bag O' Stuff.
Dizzy nods and leads the kids out the door to her car where they get in and take off.
Corey follows Dizzy out to the car, and after examining it for a bit, gets in. Shotgun!
Sophia argues briefly with Corey, but sits in the back finally.
Dizzy shakes her head at the kids' antics, smiling.
Campustown: Cup O-joes
Small, smoky, spendy, this little coffee shop sandwiched between establishments more of the chain-store variety is a slice of pure 90's Generation X available 24 hours a day. Pierced and painted goths bemoaning the uselessness of life rub shoulders with the next generation of yuppies getting their caffeine fix via daddy's credit card, while they wait in line for one of the 20 different varieties of coffees, with flavorings to create even more choice. To double the offerings, any of those can be made with Cup O' Joe's very own Spiked! espresso beans which contain four times the caffeine of normal espresso. For those of weaker heart, Joe's also offers a selection of Nantucket Nectars in every flavor, and Crystal Clear water in five, ranging from plain to peach. Sandwiches made on foccacia bread in such scrumptuous flavors as avocado and sprouts and turkey and pesto can be purchased for the modest price of around five or six dollars.
A semi-circular counter arcs out from a corner of the bottom floor, furthest from and to the left of the front door. As many circular tables as an possibly fit are squeezed into the area between the front window, which is to the left of the front door, back into the room to the counter. A set of stairs begins halfway down the right side of the room, leading up to a cozy "reading room". Under the stairs is an open doorway leading into another room out of the noisy hubbub of the front entrance. In clement weather, six umbrella-shaded tables, capable of seating four people, are out on the sidewalk along the main road of Campustown.
Outside of the shop, SCCU can be reached by taking the main road north, while St. Claire is down I-90 if you head east. A 'sign' by the front door advertises today's specials.
Corey checks the signs as they flash past. "Ohhh, so the college I've heard about is out this way..."
"Yeah, this is where I'm enrolled," Dizzy explains as she parks the car outside of the popular java-joint, "Last stop, everyone off."
Corey slips out of the car, trying not to 'accidentally' ding the door of the idiot double-parked in the next space. Granted, when the ding fails to happen, he just manages to key the car as he appears to mess with his pocket inventory.
Sophia climbs out of the car after Corey and stretches. "I'm sorry, Dizzy, but you drive a pregnant rollerskate. Next time, I get shotgun, Bro."
Dizzy waits until the passengers are out before closing her own door and hitting the auto-lock buttton on her key chain. Dumping the keys back into her pocket she walks into the coffee shop, taking in the sweet aroma of coffee.
Corey reads over the menu, looking utterly baffled by the sheer variety of flavors and options. "My god. I thought this was a coffee shop, but I don't see the word 'coffee' anywhere on the menu."
Sophia leans over and whispers something to Corey.
Dizzy giggles at Corey's observation, she steps up to the cashier and says in what must be some foreign language, "Venti mocha frappachino, please." She turn to her companions, "What will you two have?"
Sophia grins and says in what she hopes is a mature-sounding voice, "Mocha Latte, please. On ice."
A fierce grumble grows in volume, climaxing as a metallic flake purple 1970's era muscle car comes to a window-rattling stop outside the coffee shop. The engine stops sucking petrol and is silenced. The huge vehicle disgorges a contrastingly thin, medium-height male, who--with effort--slams the heavy metal driver's side door closed and heads into the coffee shop. Nicodemus has arrived.
First impression: Goth, male, rebellious, a hair under average height, skinny, about twenty--in that order, probably.
A more extensive eyeballing reveals greater details. His attire, for instance, is what one might call "traditional gothic mixed with post-industrial trimmings." A black leather jacket with a mosaic skull of mirrored glass covers a black T-shirt with a twisted, malformed, and drawn to look slightly out of focus tentacled fish derivative of the ever-so-popular Christian fish image found on cars. Inside the fish, instead of reading "Darwin," it reads "Cthulhu" in mad penmenship. His pants are a Frankensteineswue patchwork of PVC, transparent plastic, and pothole mesh. A length of chromed chain is wrapped about his waist, serving as either a belt or, possibly, a nasty bludgeoning implement. The man's boots are, of course, also black.
Various accesories complement the goth's clothing. Most notable might be the infestation of earings, a unique-looking silver skull necklace with a translucent red crystal inside, and a rather out of place looking crucifix about his neck. A pair of finger gauntlets, one on each hand's middle finger, bears a jagged--almost bladed--design on the top that looks sharp enough to do some actual damage if they were employeed in a non-civil situation. Contrasting severely with the other attire, he's wearing expensive-looking wire-rimmed glasses.
Corey nods at the whisper, walks confidently up to the counter and orders another 'Mocha Latte'. Whatever that is, really. He steps aside, suddenly getting the expression of a person who just realized he jumped from the high board into a pool he didn't check for actual water.
The cashier rings up the order and gives the total, which is _way_ too much for three cups of coffee. Dizzy pays him with a twenty and only gets a five, a couple of ones, and some loose change back. She turns to look at the noisy arrival and grins, some people just love to make an entrance.
Sophia takes her coffee and steps away from the counter, barely sipping on it. "So, do you come here a lot, Diz? I mean... it's kinda... pricey. For coffee, I mean. I always see you with these drinks, but... you really like this that much?" She watches the people around her with a certain degree of distrust. Oddly, the strange guy doesn't get quite as wary of a glance as the others.
Nicodemus is apparently all about entrances, exits, and things in between. An older woman near the door visibly edges back a few inches as he passes through the door to the shop. Arriving at the counter, he places his order with the aura of a veteran coffee house frequenter. "Triple mocha with a hit of hot chocolate. Absolutely no cream or milk or shit like that." A finger pushes his wire-rimmed glasses up onto his nose. "Or I shall be forced to kill you. Slowly. With my little pinky finger." He waves said instrument of death in a, on the whole, rather not-very-menacing fashion. The wage-slave help behind the counter simply cracks a faint smile and goes about fixing the near road tar consistency drink.
Corey carefully picks up his latte and sniffs at it as he watches the purple car's driver, and flicks his gaze occasionally to the car itself. An idea passes through his mind, and is discounted. Not going to presume. He looks for seats appropriate to the cub group once his attention moves beyond the older vehicle and all things related.
Dizzy nods, taking her drink from the counter, "It's not that bad, and it helps to wake me up. I'm a caffiene addict." She watches the noisy guy with the noisy car with a sly grin.
After a brief glance around the coffeeshop, Sophia manages to find an empty table. "How's that one?" she asks timidly, pointing. She starts walking toward it, assuming that no one would raise an objection.
No objection comes from Sophia's roommate, who takes a seat strategically to watch the noisy guy. She sips on her coffee, waiting for someone else to spark the conversation. Dizzy is quite content to watch the circus.
Corey also fails to object to the placement. Seating himself opposite Dizzy he takes his first tenative sip of the drink he ordered. He gives it one very long, hard, quizzical look afterward. No start of a conversation from him... this /was/ Dizzy's idea, after all.
Nicodemus exchanges a five for the plastic-capped beverage the guy behind the counter returns with--capitalism in action in a place where many of the consumers ironically are against exactly that. He doesn't hang around for the change, keys already jingling in his free hand as if they'd magically teleported themselves there. He heads for the door, doing a slight turn so as to force the door open using his back--since both hands are preoccupied. Though his presence wasn't necessarily a circus, nor was he loud, he just stands out in a crowd. OK, now the car--that was loud.
Sophia whispers loudly to Dizzy as she takes a seat, "Do you always frequent places with so many freaks around? Or just when you need a caffiene fix?" She grins widely, as if she's said the funniest thing anyone's heard all day.
Nicodemus re-enters the massive purple vehicle, turns the engine over and rattles the shop windows as he backs out and cruises off down the street, disappearing into the growing evening traffic.
Obviously not finding the same humor that Sophia does, Dizzy just nods, "Well, it's right next to campus, so all the the college-types come here." She takes another small sip and turns to face her fellow cubs as the noisy car departs, "Most are just old teenagers anyway. Rebel in whatever way they can. rar."
Corey takes a longer sip, and chuckles. "Diz, with all the strange people around, you do realize you're judged by the company you keep?" He grins and winks conspiratorially, knowing he's part of the company she keeps, now.
Dizzy giggles mid-sip, covering her mouth and quickly setting the drink down so she doesn't spit up her drink. She grins at Corey, "You should see the nightlife." She composes herself and once again a epitome of calmness, "Speaking of which I still haven't found a decent rave around town."
Sophia blinks, and her mouth falls open. She knows what a rave is, but only barely. Whispering wide-eyed, she asks, "Do you take /drugs/, Dizzy?"
Corey goes quiet, although it's clear by his expression and the way he looks at her his opinion of Dizzy is starting to slip a notch.
Dizzy sighs at the way her roommate phrased that and shakes her head in a negative fashion, "Not anymore. Not since starting college at least."
Sophia frowns, but drops the subject. "So, um... What do you guys want to do today?" She opens up her backpack, taking out a black 35mm camera.
A bright flash is emitted as Sophia takes a picture of Corey. Click.
Corey sips his drink thoughtfully. "Well, first, I want to clear up something from last night." He stops, startled at the flash. He looks around blinking while his eyes readjust until he's no longer blinded. "Umm. Anyway, you know why I was laughing, Sophia?"
"You know," Dizzy notes, "I noticed the film in the fridge, are you an amateur photographer or something?" She finishes her coffee and turns around in her chair to deposit it in a nearby trashcan.
Sophia chuckles at Dizzy. "Not really. I'm no good at it. It's just a little gift John gave me. That and the frame in our room, which I'm trying to fill up so he doesn't think I don't like it." She looks to Corey and asks, "You mean last night? I haven't the foggiest idea. Why? Don't uh... say anything weird though."
Corey smiles, and thinks he can phrase it appropriately. "Well, the first day I met Alicia -- didn't know she was a distant relative at the time, y'know, G's children -- I was introduced to another guy, name of Joey. At one point Joey offered me some of his food, trying to be a gracious host, I guess. I started to turn him down, when Alicia told me it wasn't wise to decline an offer from 'the Godfather', as she termed him." He pauses to see if anyone gets the joke yet, but continues before it can truly percolate, "I took the joke and ran with it. Kissing the ring, all that. I had Alicia rolling in the aisle when she told me to let off, before she got some cement shoes." Now, he hopes you both get the idea of why he was laughing.
Having never met Joey, the joke is totally lost on Dizzy, who just looks at Corey and goes, "Huh?"
Sophia opens her mouth and looks sideways at Corey. "I never watched that movie, I think. Is Joey a leader or something?"
Corey sighs and sits back. "No, he's no leader as far as I know. Which, admittedly, isn't too far, but I still think Alicia was just ragging on me. I suppose neither of you gave me a good look earlier." He looks -- and sounds -- utterly disappointed.
Dizzy shrugs and glances at a clock on the wall, "We should probably head to the store if we're gonna go shopping before it closes."
Corey tries to look at his own watch before he remembers the band popped. "Yeah, let's get going. Where to first? Furniture, or clothes?"
Sophia continues to watch Corey, as if maybe looking at him now will solve the puzzle. "Yeah, um... clothes are more important, I think."
"I was going to suggest furniture, actually," Dizzy admits, "But if you really want to go clothes shopping with a couple girls...." She grins, pretending to poke him in the side.
"Clothes it is, then." Corey walks out of the place, dumping his half-used cup into the trash on the way. He holds the door open for the ladies, partially out of politeness, but mostly out of the realization at that point that the car's locked and he doesn't have the keys.
Sophia says quickly, "I have shotgun, don't forget. And what's wrong with shopping with girls, Diz? We'll fix him up /nice/ and pretty in honor of the occasion." She carries her drink with her as she walks out the open door.
Dizzy grins, following Sophia out the door, giving Corey a thankful nod, "I have yet to meet a straight guy who actually enjoys shopping."
Corey raises an eyebrow as the girls pass. "That depends, are we doing shopping the woman's way, or the man's way? There /is/ a difference, you know." He squeezes into the back of the beetle after the door's unlocked, and buckles his seat belt after he manages to get into a sitting position.
Sophia gets in after Corey, setting her backpack in the floorboard of the car. "And what is a man's way of shopping, anyway? I assume we're going to Silver Street, right, Dizzy?"
Dizzy gets in and starts the car, "You're going to have to direct me, Sophie. I don't know where that is."
Sophia nods. "Ok... get back on the interstate, first of all."
Corey smiles at the back of Sophia's head. "Know what you're looking for, get in, get what you're looking for, get out. Elegant in its simplicity, isn't it?"
Dizzy nods, driving out of the parking lot. Letting Sophia direct where to go.
Interstate 90, Near 13th Avenue
Made of concrete and metal, Interstate 90 is maintained by the state taxes which keeps it in fairly excellent condition. Some trash does line the side of the roadway, mostly bits of tires or hubcaps. The remains of a recent accident can be seen along the northern side of the Interstate. Shiny pieces of glass litter the asphalt and black lines mar the white concrete wall. White signs along the side of the freeway state: Speed Limit 55
Vehicles rush past at top speed, some definitely exceeding the speed limit. The raised freeway allows for a wonderful view of the city. Rising up in the north are the shining glass-and-metal skyscrapers of the prosperous financial district. Off to the south, red brick alternates with brownstone in the middle class commercial sector. Further south, the poverty-stricken down area can be seen and farther beyond, black plumes of smoke can be seen rising up from the plants of the industrial sector.
Interstate 90 runs east-west across the city. A green sign indicates that 13th Avenue runs below the freeway at this point.
Sophia points to the exit ahead, almost too late to get in the proper lane. "There, Dizzy! Get off! Hurry!" The racket she makes would be sufficient to clear a building in a fire, and is totally inappropriate inside a tiny car.
Dizzy lets out a little laugh as she turns into the exit lane calmly.
Silver Avenue, West Side
From Thirteenth to Fifteenth along Silver Avenue's north edge, the St. Claire Sports Facility sprawls northwards. The southern side of the street is covered with small buildings, the fifteen-story Tribune building towering above them by more than ten stories, along where Fourteenth ends. Small restaurants are set into some of the buildings, catering to the businessmen and those who come to the sports facility. Souvenir shops litter Fifteenth Avenue along the side of the sports facility, up to Jellico Lane: caps, shirts, stuffed animals with team logos or colors, buttons and other sports-fan paraphernalia are sold all along here. At the intersection of Jellico and Fifteenth, at one of the major exits from the sports facility across the way, a larger restaurant has a souvenir shop to one side, mimicking a Hard Rock Cafe and even, apparently, reaching for the same atmosphere. Along Jellico Lane, the shops tend to cater more towards the sports enthusiast rather than the fan: fishing stops, equipment shops, sports clothing shops for the athlete. At the intersection of Thirteenth and Ellicott a tall hotel rises, providing a place for overnight visitors to stay.
Corey just grins at the strange exuberance in merely pointing out a correct exit.
Sophia points to the left, and says, "Ok, now turn right here."
Dizzy turns left, disreguarding the navigator's spoken directions.
Silver and Ellicott Streets, Midtown
Office buildings rise along Silver Avenue, several stories tall, but further north, towards Ellicott, the buildings dwindle to small specialty shops: little stores selling jewelry, clothing, or soaps, and several small, specialty bookstores are tucked along the several streets. Delicatessens, bakeries, and ice cream parlors, along with other small restaurants, cater to the businessmen along Silver Avenue and to the casual shoppers along Ellicott, in a small business district stretching from Third Street to Twelfth.
Sophia points to all the shops around, and says, "See? Nice, isn't it?"
Corey 's eyes light up at the bookstore, but he slaps himself ringingly. Not here for books right now.
Dizzy slows down and pulls in to park next to the sidewalk. "Yeah. I'm going to have to remember how to get here."
Sophia giggles. "We're only a couple of blocks north of home, silly." She opens up the door and steps out, leaving her backpack behind in the car.
Dizzy shakes her head as she steps out and closes the door, "Hey, I'm new to the area. Be nice."
Corey contorts and shifts... just to get out of the car from behind the passenger seat. "Remind me /never/ to get a two-door car." Closing the door, he looks around. "Okay, suggestions? Anyone, anyone?" He asks the last part in a flat tone of voice, and with a perfectly straight face.
Sophia glances over at Corey, and points to a men's tailor. "C'mon, Mr. Stein. That looks like your sort of establishment..." she grins.
"Hold off on that, Sophie." Dizzy grabs Corey by the shoulders asks him straight, "Do you have any money?"
Corey glances at the tailor shop. "Oh, geez, I'm just looking for something that I won't miss if I shred it by accident." To answer Dizzy, he holds up his wallet. "Bank card, and about a hundred in cash, I think." He hasn't had to use it, so he hasn't bothered to count recently.
Sophia blinks and kinda looks away, feeling gnawerish and light in the pocket.
Dizzy nods, "Okay, next question. Is that all you have, or do you have a steady source of income?"
Corey sighs. "All I have, at the moment. I mean, I just turned sixteen, and there's these things called child labor laws? And getting stuck in the house hasn't exactly expanded my business prospects."
Letting out a small sigh, Dizzy takes her arms off of the other ragabash cub and turns around, "Okay, no tailor for you then. We need a Macy's, or even a Sears."
Sophia points to a small thrift store out of the way. "Um, Diz? That's where I shop. They have guy's stuff, too."
Dizzy looks distastefully at the thrift store. Sears was about as low quality as she was willing to go. "What do you think, Core?" she asks.
Corey looks at both of the other cubs like they were crazy to think of a tailor store in the first place. "Do I /look/ like the kind of person who wears suits and ties? Geez..." He takes a look at the store indicated. "Worth a shot. Like I said, I'd prefer it if I didn't miss the things if I... suddenly hit another growth spurt." He rephrases quickly as a man walks brusquely by.
Dizzy shrugs, rolling her eyes. If the boy wants to look like a Gnawer bum, so be it. "I can take you to the farmhouse," she informs him, "If Kaz isn't there, then Helen should be. One of them could help you out."
Sophia nods. "What you need is someone to alter your clothes so they stay on. But that place... it's not trashy or anything. It's used clothes, but good stuff."
Corey shakes his head and just goes into the thrift store. At the door, he calls back, "Look, we're here, it's here, and we're running out of time before the stores close. You coming or what?"
Sophia follows Corey, tossing her drink in a bin as she walks toward the storefront. She looks back to see that Dizzy is following.
Dizzy shrugs, and looks around before entering. What's she looking for? It's not like she knows anyone around town who could see her entering a store such as this. Old habits die hard.
The younger ragabash is already in the men's section, pulling out shirts that look about his size and in solid, unfaded colors. "Hey, Sophie, do me a favor and see if there's a backpack around here? Seems like it's almost a necessity in this family," he calls cheerily over the racks.
Sophia starts rooting around for a backpack. She's ignoring color and style, looking at structure and brand names, instead.
Dizzy waits patiently by the door, letting the kids grab what they need. Fiddling with the cellphone in her pocket, she idly considers calling her father.
Corey takes the pile of shirts, re-sorts them by some arcane method known only to those of the male persuasion, and puts all but the top three back. He turns around and repeats the whole process with the pants aisle in less time, coming out with two pairs of jeans and some slacks that look barely used. He's halfway to the checkout when he makes a sudden turn and heads for the back wall, where jackets and coats hang in a random array.
Sophia disappears, nowhere in Corey's line of sight.
Sophia finds a dark grey backpack, a good brand, with no apparent deterioration. Seven dollars. Not too much. She quickly walks to the counter and pays for it, then hands it to Dizzy with a wink. "Put this in the car... it's a surprise."
Dizzy ducks out of the store, returning a few minutes later.
Corey locates a denim jacket that doesn't look too worn out, though it's faded from washing. He ducks under it and wears it, hanger and all, like some kind of short cloak. Then he goes searching for Sophia. "Soph? Oh Sophia, where'd you go?"
Sophia appears from behind a rack, holding out her hands in a gesture of defeat. "No good backpacks. Sorry. Maybe we'll go look at one of the other stores, another day."
Dizzy rolls her eyes as she glances at her watch. "Can we hurry this up?" she yells to the kids.
Corey shrugs, though the gesture is mostly hidden by the jacket. "Oh well. I'll still need a few things, but I can work with this." He shows off his selections, all of which look in good condition and of fairly good quality. The viewing is cut short at the yell, and the younger ragabash mutters something to the crescent-moon as they move for the checkout.
Sophia sighs at Corey, muttering back in a matter-of-fact tone.
Corey smiles and nods, though the expression is somewhat strained and artificial. He blows off the gabby cashier's constant chatter, pays the woman and leaves her quickly with a bagful of clothes, though the jacket stays on his back.
With much relief, Dizzy leaves the store and waits until everything is bought, paid for, and the kids are ready to continue.
Sophia looks east, looks back to Dizzy, and whispers something to her, before saying out loud, "I've gotta go do a couple things. I'll meet you guys back home in about an hour?"
Sophia whispers "Keep that thing hidden. I want to give it to him myself, later on."
Dizzy nods to Sophie and waves her off, "Okay, Core and I'll just walk around." She glances to him, "That okay with you?"
Corey nods at Sophia, though he looks puzzled at the whisper. Girl thing, he guesses. He turns his attention to Dizzy. "Works for me. Umm, can I dump this stuff in the car, first?"
Sophia walks briskly off south, toward the safehouse after giving a brief wave.
Opening up the passenger door, Dizzy makes motions that he should hurry and dump it in, "Yeah, yeah. Just toss it all in the back."
Corey hooks it in quickly, then looks down and up the street. "Got any preference?"
Dizzy looks back at Corey and closes the door, "I haven't a clue where things are in the city, what about you?"
Corey shakes his head. "As much walking as I did before I knew I was a Walker, you'd think I knew, but I don't." He shrugs and starts walking westward, on an impulse.
Dizzy shrugs and begins to follow her fellow cub. "I hope you have some sort of direction sense so we don't forget where the car is." She hits the little button on her keychain that activates the car alarm. Beep Beep.
"I have a perfect sense of direction. I can tell you where we are relative to where we've been. Just don't ask me which way is north," he grins to the other cub.
Regan Avenue West, Downtown
For two or three blocks, between Thirteenth and Fifteenth Streets, red-brick apartment buildings alternate with the occasional small, struggling side garden or a small business. A pizza parlor decorates the corner of one intersection, and a relatively prosperous deli takes up space at another. Along one street, a fire station interrupts the other buildings, small but obviously in good condition from frequent need. Graffiti shows on sidewalks and on a few of the buildings, but is not prevalent. The road has been paved sometime within the last few years, to judge by the lack of potholes.
Dizzy gestures toward the McDonald's, "Oh, okay. I kind of know where we are."
Corey nods. "Good. Because while I can tell you where the car is, I have /no/ idea what street we're on."
Dizzy sticks her hands in her pockets and starts to watch the sidewalk in front of her as she walks, "I take it by your reaction earlier that you're straightedge too?"
Corey follows in puzzled silence for a minute, then, "Straightedge? I take it you're not talking about a ruler or other device used in geometry class to make sure lines on graphs are straight."
Sighing, Dizzy shakes her head. "No, straightedge. Like, no drugs, no beer until 21, no sex until married. That kind of stuff," she explains.
Corey replies to the first two parts, "I have a good mind, why would I want to screw it up?" The third part seems to get ignored, though his tone says he's irritated.
Turning her focus skyward, Dizzy explains, "I'm just looking for someplace to hang out at night or something. Like I said, I haven't partied hard for almost three years. That doesn't mean I stopped going alltogether, I missed the atmosphere."
Two cubs walk down the long street on what is a thinly light night. At least by the light of the moon itself. The streets aren't too well populated tonight, save for the vagabonds that St. Claire supports by default. It is a simple night, save perhaps for the recent gang activities that may lend an air of possible danger to it.
Corey considers this in silence, briefly. "Diz, if you're asking me if I know of anyplace like that, I don't. If you're asking for help looking, I can't. It's like the flowers in the park, whatever it is I'm supposed to be seeing is so far out of my league, I'll miss it completely."
Dizzy drops her head down again, resigning. "I'm sorry Core. It's just..." she pauses, her voice a little shaky, "It's just with all that's happened, I just wish I could find a place to relax. Don't even think that I'm considering going back to doing that kind of stuff, but like I said, the atmosphere itself is relaxing."
The conversation of two cubs distracts a few of the bums on this darkened night... but little else. Save for perhaps the group of city kids in gang colors chillin' in an alleyway about one hundred feet before civil civilization begins again and the street stops looking like one big alleyway itself. These kids definatly notice the cubs walking... fresh meat.
Corey puts a hand on Dizzy's shoulder. "Hey, I think I understand looking for someplace you feel you belong, someplace you're in control. I've been feeling it ever since I was nabbed, and I don't have the advantage of having been in this city before. You did say you'd been going to the college for a couple semesters, right?"
Dizzy looks up, peering at the gang members and sighs again, heavilly. On the plus side, they might know some party spots, the bad thing is they may not be in such a generous mood. Her pace starts to quicken as she worries over this and whispers to Corey, "Hurry up a bit."
The group of kids seems to animate slightly, as movements become exaggerated. Before what was just relaxing is now looking nervous. Knives are being flipped in hands, one is even playing with a yo-yo like he was a tournament champion with the thing. Still, even as they mumble to each other, the punks make no foot movement just yet.
Corey looks puzzled, not having noticed anything out of the ordinary, but complies and hastens his pace. "What's the problem?" he asks in a fierce whisper.
Dizzy looks back at Corey, visably worried. "Bad part of town at night, I guess. No offense, but I'd feel safer if we got back to the safehouse." She looks up and adds, "Much safer."
Corey nods and continues the pace. If Dizzy's worried, he should have some cause to be worried as well.
As the cubs start to walk by the gang instantly goes into motion. It's all set off by the yo-yo wielding kid piping up with. "Yo, check it! Two fucking pussies! I wonder which one's tighter? How bout we bust one in and find out?" They seem to have an eye on Dizzy over Corey, though glances are shot between the two of them as the Gang members rush forward towards the cubs... fast.
Dizzy takes one glance at Corey and hopes he can run, these boys are definately not going to nice and at least try some smooth talk first. She bolts for it, trying to wrest her cellphone from her jacket. She curses under her breath for not getting John's number.
Corey meets the glance with one of his own, and turns figurative tail to run back the way they came. He mutters curses as well, split rather evenly between the gang and himself for targets.
The cubs maybe ok runners, but the gang members have years of street expirence... and a head start of a sort and the cubs are quickly over taken. Dizzy is roughly tackled and Corey gets a large piece of metal to the side of the head as a reward for trying to save himself. Both are subdued quickly with kicks and punches as they are simultaniously dragged quickly back to the same alleyway that the gang was in just a moment before. You might think that a cry for help would have gone up, but it was a convenient night for violent and illegal actions. No caring public was on the streets and the homeless people all have seemed to disappear from the area.
The female cub's head is swirling trying to figure out what she should do. If things get really hairy, she figures she can turn into a wolf and run away. She reprimands herself for not getting any info the local area before walking this late at night. Hey, maybe even Corey can help her out. One look towards him and that idea flys out the window faster than a 747.
Corey makes no move to get up and run away again, though he attempts to avoid as many kicks as possible. He tries to see what's happening to Dizzy, but everything's a blur and he soon gives up on that idea.
Alley behind Martinello's
Relatively clean as far as alleys go, this short north/south passage is only wide enough for 2 small cars -- if the drivers don't breathe too heavy. A few dumpsters for the adjoining businesses are here, and occasionally a sleeping bum can be spotted.
To the north, the alley meets Regan Street; it ends to the south against the back of a record store. To the east is a small delivery landing for Martinello's Deli; Antonio Martinello's small Porsche is often found parked beside it.
The cubs lay down on the ground in an alleyway, darker then most in the area. Six italian looking youths are standing about said cubs and are in the process of kicking the holy hell out of them. A moment before the pain becomes too much to take the kicking stops, quite abrubtly with teh sounds of shattering glass deep enough within the shadows of the alley that the source of the sound is rendered invisible. The sounds of guns being cocked are heard shortly after this and while feet are still resting on the cub's backs... their attention is turned for this moment at least. "What the fuck was that? You guys hear someone crying like a bitch down there?" At these words the air seems to still unnaturally and three... men... seem to be walking out of the shadows. The gang members guns are pointed in a second. "Check yourself, or you'll be shitting lead." is spoken by a gang member who seems confused about something or another, the cubs can't exactly see what it is that is having six guns pointed at it(them) right now. The sound of crying is carried on the air of the suddenly calm night. That and glass scraping on stone and metal. The crying suddenly and abruptly ends with a choking noise.
Dizzy's phone ringing is muffled by her jacket, but none the less is audiable. Whatever the gang is distracted by, they don't seem to care about anything else anymore. They simply stand there, frozen.
Hearing the phone ring, Dizzy peeks an eye open from her crumpled position on the ground. What the heck is going on? Best to scout out first and look for an opening to run.
The male cub closes his eyes and takes several deep breaths in a (futile) attempt to calm himself, then reopens his eyes and hopes for clarity. Corey tries to look around, to understand what's caused the beating to stop.
Entering the strange tableu with an animal snarl on his face, John stands - in the massively oversized glabro - at the entrance to the alley. No pretenses; he has a knife and gun out and in either hand, and is eyeing any and all in the alley with fierce hostility, perhaps born of protective instinct.
The bad ass glabro steps into the alleyway and more senses then sees what is going on. The two cubs on the ground, the gang members seeming petrified. The smell of blood hits your senses, and about this time... a human head rolls towards the gang members. The skin and muscles have been carefully cut away from the face revealing only a grinning skull surrounded by almost jelly-like flesh which lands facing directly up at the gang members. The air is charged with the potental for action... but the two 'men' at the end of the alleyway that look really odd and angular haven't seemed to 'move' just yet. The gang members start to back away though, one or two of them can be heard sobbing as they completly ignore the cubs, who can now look up unobstructed and spot first the head, then further down on the ground the rest of the body that the head belonged to. The strange men are JUST deep enough into the shadows not to see exactly who, or what, they are.
Drawing on the little bit of rage she has, Dizzy instantly shifts into wolf-form and bolts for where she hopes the edge of the ally is. All instinct is telling her to run.
Corey scrambles backward, eyes wide in terror. He may not see the dark figures, but heads not attached to their bodies are pretty high on the list of things he prefers to stay away from.
Corey scrambles quickly back and finds himself almost bumping into John's massive form behind him. Only what is about to occur stops him and Dizzy from leaving the alleyway just yet, and being blocked from getting out for a moment.
John frowns, taking only a second to weigh up his targets - something very wrong here... and the 'men' seem to be the source of it. An eye singles out his cubs, and with them close by, he opens fire on the shadowed figures, preparing to leap over his cubs, if need be.
Spot hunches down and hugs the walls of buildings as she approaches, watching carefully.
Chaos occurs. The shadowed figures seemed to be awaiting the move and fall to the ground the moment the fire is in the air. But the gun firing is enough for the pissing-themselves-scared gang member's fragile minds and all six of their guns are being fired in less then a second, accompanied by their screaming things that just don't make sense. Well, three gang members are firing at least, because out of nowhere the sound of glass shattering violently is heard and a shotgun like broken glass pattern takes three of them on the left side back about 4' through the air in a gigantic spray of blood and the sound of bones breaking from the impact.
Dizzy stops at the firing John and looks back, she looks at Corey, hoping he'll make the decision to keep running, or to stay in case John needs help.
Corey flings himself to the side once he finds his rearward movement blocked. Every nerve, every instinct is screaming at him to get out of the way of /everything/ as he takes shelter behind whatever avails, the corner of a building if he's close enough. Once there he stops himself and tries to take stock of what's going on. He completely misses seeing Dizzy looking at him.
Spot darts in between Dizzy and the trouble, gnashing her teeth and snarling. Back up. Get away from this. Go on. Farther. Guns. Get BACK, sister-cub, /now/.
Corey manages to just get outside of the alleyway and hides on the lip of the wall, looking in from behind relative cover... not seeing very well from his position. Dizzy appears to be frightened beyond rational though, despite what her actual thoughts are. She just stands there and stares at the cub and John, until Spot suddenly arrives from nowhere and starts trying to back Dizzy out of the danger, putting herself underfoot of a couple of gang members who just now emptied their guns. And are subsequently lifted off their feet by a second blast of glass that sounds like a plate glass window was blown up by a shotgun fired in the gang member's direction. As this occurs, John leaps forward over the sudden carnage, and quickly spots the source of the recent blast of glass. His body acts quicker then his mind and John's gun blasts in the shadow thing's direction. Contact between it and the bullet is made and again the sound of glass exploding in various directions... accompanied by a horrifyingly high pitched shriek that no human, vampire, or werecreature should ever emit.
She's scared out of her mind, and so, following the advice of the only bit of sanity in the area, Dizzy doges around and out of the ally. She barks loudly, hoping that Corey will listen and also get the hell out of Dodge. In the meantime, she's doing just that.
Corey is almost relieved he can't see much in the alleyway, at least until the shriek and other sounds of carnage begin. He searches for Dizzy now, and spotting the fleeing wolf, chases after her. Regardless of how ineffective they were before, he does not want to be alone after this.
Spot stands in the midst of the shower of glass, unmoving; guarding the other cubs. She barks to get John's attention. Ice! Help you, or run with the cubs, which?
Hearing gunshots, screams, calls all around from familiar voices. Alicia makes her way quickly down the street, keeping herself ducked away into the shadows. All the noise and ruckus could wake up the dead! Already taking her glabro form and hiding herself being the veil of a thick sweat jacket and hoodie, one hand remains ducked under near her belt, the other free, swinging at her sides. Turning the corner and coming upon the scene, her eyes narrow fiercly and she calls out to the walkers. "Yo!"
~Stay back! If I fall dead - RUN!~ The last word is a battle-cry, almost, all said as Walks-Thin-Ice shifts and contorts; growling as he attempts to let himself fall into more of a martial-artist's stance before leaping forward and attacking.
Alicia is almost bowled over by Corey tripping over the fleeing Lupine cub. They are tripped up and fall face forward into the concrete upon contact with the Glabro Gnawer. Walks-Thin-Ice is within the alleyway that suddenly is quiet, save for the crinosed garou. The glass spirits are no longer seen and Walks-Thin-Ice finds himself suddenly alone. The banes can, however, still be smelled and generally sensed all over the alleyway, from all directions and along all the walls. It is obvious spirit tricks are at play.
Dizzy tries to get out from under Corey and keep running. If she can, she's going all the way back to the safehouse.
Rina breaks into a run as she sees chaos near the mouth of that alley. The noise resolves into a near-silence of footsteps and running paws, and she heads for the tangle of the Glabro and the shape beneath it. "What /is/ it?" She addresses the curt question to the more manlike of the two.
Walker Safe House(#2832RAJL)
This small tenement building, is a work that any interior decorator would be proud of. The building is somehow filled with light, and space. Despite the fact that the room is far from large. Mirrored surfaces and lush, green pot plants are much in evidence - jarring only slightly with the video cameras that perch unobtrusively in various locations. A small sign on the wall lists the number of apartments upstairs as eight. There are no names next to the apartment numbers. Downstairs leads to a very thick door, with no visible method of being opened - except a keypad next to it.
The lobby branches off into what appears to be a small recreation room; for use only by residents and their guests. Much like the rest of the building, mirrors are prominent. There is a pool table set up in one half of the room, while the remainder is dominated by a large home theater system, with an incredibly expensive-looking couch in front of it. The couch nearly screams out, 'Don't spill anything'. For those who might, there are also two matching side-chairs, and a bean-bag on the floor - far too close to the television to be good for anyone's eyes.
Corey fumbles with his keys, finally getting the door open and slamming it after he makes sure Dizzy's through.
Dizzy rushes in as fast as she can and falls in a heap on the floor. Either they did good, or screwed up real bad.
Corey takes a few steps and crashes to the carpet himself, panting. "Do you have," he pauses to gulp air, "any idea... what that was?"
Slowly, very slowly, Dizzy shifts back into homid. She looks to Corey from her position on the floor and shakes her head, "I'm not even sure what happened after we got dragged into the alley."
Corey crawls over to the nearest wall for support while he gets up again.
There's a quick burst of knocking outside the door.
Dizzy just lays there on the floor, hand over her heart, trying to catch her breath and staring at the ceiling. She rolls her head towards the door. There is no way she is going to walk over to get it.
Corey gives the door a look of fear as if everything in the alley had followed them home. He's not about to open the door either, by the look of things.
You can hear the numbers being punched in from the outside, then the lock turning and twisting. "Hello? Guys.." Jeremy murmurs, heading inside cautiously, peering.
Dizzy is just too pooped to move off the floor. Gravity feels like it's been increased a hundred fold. "Don't you have a key?" She whines, rolling onto her side.
Corey appears he would faint with relief, but instead he gestures to Jeremy to get inside and close the door and merely sinks back to floor level.
Jeremy heads inside and closes it. "Of course I do, I used it didn't I?" Glancing at the two, he quirks a brow. "You all right?"
Dizzy 's clothing is quite dirty, something she'd _never_ allow if she had a choice in the matter. A dirt shaped bootprint or two can be made out on her back. The time in lupus helped her a little, but she is far from feeling better. "Hey Jeremy," is all she offers the kin boy.
The other nomoon's clothing is in much the same condition, with dirt all over and a smell of absorbed urine from various points. "We... were attacked," is all he offers as clarification.
"... You guys ok tho'?" Jeremy asks, his voice now dropping to that of concern.
Dizzy rolls back onto her back and her body lurches in pain. She grabs her ribs in pain and her face skrunches up in an attempt not to cry out. For a minute she just lays there, scrunched into a fetal position on the floor.
Jeremy takes a deep breath and glances between the two. "Um.. You.. Dizzy.. um.. take another form, um, the bigger person one.. um.. Globro or.. whatever its called.."
Corey looks like he's fighting to control a reaction to vomit all over the hard-to-clean rug. He also appears to be in pain, but keeping his mouth closed stifles any urge to scream quite well. He tries to drag himself someplace else before anything finishes getting to him.
"I... can't... concentrate," the injured cub on the floor practically whispers. From their vantage point, the boy can't tell that she's crying, but from her voice, it's quite evident.
"Look, you have to. Its ok, you are safe now ok? Just do it, um.. just think about being a wolf or something, or the big monster one. Push away the pain. C'mon Dizzy." Jeremy tries to inspire her, sinking down at her side. "You have to, you'll heal 'real' fast."
Dizzy tries as hard as she can to concentrate. Focusing more on Jeremy's words than the pain and shifts into the form that's the second most comfortable to her. That of the wolf.
Corey starts paying attention to what the Kin is saying, himself. He stops and slips off his filthy new jacket easily enough and kicks off his shoes, but the shirt and pants become a loss as he surges into the warform before he can get them off.
Jeremy watches the two cubs and takes a deep breath, shifting nervously. "Ok.. just stay 'still' ok. Don't move at all and you will heal."
There's no danger of that. Dizzy just lays there, breathing rapidly, trying to calm herself as much as possible.
Corey stays in the half-crouched position he shifted in, eyes closed and breath working into a controlled rhythm.
Jeremy sighs softly and reaches out to gently stroke his fingers through Dizzy's headfur. "You two will be alright.. "
Dizzy strangely finds the kin's actions to be quite calming. She closes her eyes and just lets her body heal.
Corey moves just enough to search the pockets of what were the pants he wore. Frustrated at being unable to do delicate maneuvers, he just rips the fabric open to get what he seeks.
Jeremy continues to gently brush his fingers in the fur of Dizzy, his eyes cautiously glancing over to Corey.
After all of the excitement, the quiet of the room, the rhymic breathing, and Jeremy's petting all culminate to the point where Dizzy just falls asleep on the floor. It's been a rough day.
Corey picks up the jacket -- making a face at the odor -- and his shoes, and goes into the basement. Wash time again.