Ramos and Val

[hazlogs]

It is currently 17:37 Pacific Time on Wed Jan 7 2015.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is foggy. The temperature is 42 degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southeast at 7 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.30 and rising, and the relative humidity is 96 percent. The dewpoint is 41 degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius.) For more detail, see: http://www.wunderground.com/cgi-bin/findweather/getForecast?query=98501

Currently the moon is in the waning Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (85% full).

Andy's Old Fashioned Donuts

A small quaint donut shop, tastefully done in blue and white. A glass case, showing a variety of fresh donuts stands at the back of the store. Standing behind the glass case, a small old woman, looking to be in her sixties, is busy with customers. A young girl, slightly taller than the old woman and looking to be around sixteen rushes back and forth through a swinging door, bringing out trays of donuts or coffee or other delicious smelling items.

A sturdy door to the south opens out onto the street.

Ramos sits hunched at a table near the door, scribbling in a notebook with a cup of milky coffee near at hand.

This is a stocky young man with a broad, plain face and long black hair but no beard to speak of. He's a little under six feet tall and has pale, soft-looking skin, a smashed-flat nose, a wide mouth, small ears, and very little chin. His body is swathed in a shin-length black coat that's a couple of sizes too big for him, a coat that's buttoned all the way up the front. The frayed cuffs of his brown pants puddle messily around cheap canvas shoes that are no longer white. Round black welder's goggles cover his eyes. His age is hard to determine, but he's probably not past his early twenties.

Out and about on her own, Val's youth is enough to draw a few speculative looks, but little more than that. The young woman makes her way up to the counter, where she orders a half-dozen donuts and a hot chocolate. After gathering up the food, she sits down at one of the free tables and begins to /decimate/ the box contents at an alarming rate.

Val is in the somewhat awkward stage of having recently entered her mid-teens, although she is blessedly free of acne. Her figure is whip-thin, with hints of the womanly curves that'll appear as she grows older. The girl has an angular face, high cheekbones, and a prominent nose, all softened by the chubbyness of youth. Val's hair is shoulder length and streaked in a series of rainbow hues, everything from dark purple to a brilliant orange. Due to the girl's strong northern Italian ancestry, her pale olive-tinted skin darkens to a rich brown during the summer months. Val stands three inches below five feet tall, which accentuates just how thin and petite she is. The young girl smiles a lot, a friendly cheerfulness that is hard to ignore and is almost contagious in nature.

Currently, the teen is wearing a black t-shirt with a yellow Batman logo on it. Over the shirt, she wears a warm black hoodie, with a zipper up the front, rainbow striped arms, hood, and front pockets. Val's legs are covered by a pair of skinny denim jeans with a small pink flower over the right front pocket and decorative 'rips' here and there. Her feet are shod in a pair of well-worn black sneakers, clearly chosen for comfort rather than style. Around her neck she wears a braided leather necklace with a large black opal pendant. On her fingers, she wears a number of thick rings, some with a mirrored surface, others holding the luster of stainless steel. A black and white leather backpack with the image of a magpie sewn in to it hangs from her shoulders, always filled with something or another.

Despite Val's youth, small stature, and thin frame, she moves with an easy, sure-footed grace. Her movements are quick, practiced, and at times, a little on the jerky side.

www.tinyurl.com/knqlfxp

Ramos pauses in his writing and lifts his head slightly to peer at Val from behind those dark goggles of his. Unsmiling.

Val polishes off the third donut, then she seems to notice that Ramos is looking at her. She looks up, cocks her head slightly to one side, then smiles - carefully keeping her teeth covered as she does so.

Ramos stares back for a long time, unsmiling. Then he turns back to his notebook, putting his free arm around it as he bends over the page. More scribbling.

Val gathers up her box of donuts and the remnants of her drink, then walks over to Ramos' table. "Mind if I sit? Have enough food to share."

Ramos looks up again. Again that unsmiling, alien stare. This close, Val can smell the heavy unwashed body-odor stink of him and see what he's writing. It's not in English. It's not in any kind of lettering that Val's ever seen before.

Val slides into the seat across from Ramos, while attempting not to make direct eye contact. Rather tricky, what with the goggles the other is wearing. "Well, you can have a donut if you like," she says, as she opens up her bag and starts to reach inside. "I've seen you around a few times. Was told that your name is Ramos."

"Gunther Ramos, yes," he says slowly. "The man, the... kin to cockroaches, he tells you?"

Val nods. "Yes," the young woman says with a faint smile, teeth remaining hidden. "He is an old friend. I'm not in his family, though. I'm one of raven's children," she adds, after failing to find what she was looking for in her bag. She reaches for her forth donut, cradling it in one hand.

Ramos sits quite still, not even fiddling with his pen. "Raven. Yes. The... the ones who drink eyes." His nostrils flare.

Val mm-mms and takes a bite out of her donut, then washes it down with some hot chocolate before continuing. "He also said you were the one who made the marks around the park fountain. Were you trying to get a message to the others, here? Might be able to help with that. I can pass on messages. Act as an inbetween, if you don't feel comfortable talking to the other wolves."

Ramos sniffs, then makes a low phlegmy noise in the back of his throat. "That, also, you do. Carry words. Carry words and drink eyes." He looks down at his notebook, flips back several pages. Every one is filled with dense pen marks, ordered and in lines like writing but all nonsense as far as the Corax can tell. He stops at a page near the beginning and puts down a finger. "Wyldlings, many. Far, far east, in the mountains. Very... very unrested. Excitement. Fear. The shakings, the movement of the ground, this makes them unrest. This makes them strong. Strong and stronger. The Weaverlings... weaker. And the birds, also unrested, very unhappy." He looks back up at her. "This I find, after the earth shook, time and times ago."

Val looks down at the pen marks, head cocked to one side. "And there are no magpies, they've all been eaten," the young woman says softly and a little sadly. "A great devouring hunger, consuming all in its path. Two great ancient powers, locked in struggle, their thrashings causing the earth to shake. I've seen and dreamt things as well, but have found more questions than answers. The dark nothing is... Well, don't know if you've found hints of it?"

No matter how much she looks at Ramos' writing (if that's what it is), no meaning comes from it. The goggled lupus grunts, says simply, "No."

Val sighs softly, then runs a hand through her hair. "I'll think over what you've told me and tell others. I'm willing to share what I know with you, but I have an appointment to keep. If you want to talk with me later, ask the local raven spirits for me," the small woman says with a faint smirk. "Most have heard of me and know me as Memory. If you're looking for me, I'll hear about it soon enough. Goodbye Gunthar Ramos. Was nice speaking with you." Rising from her chair, Val bobs her head in farewell and heads out of the shop, leaving the two remaining donuts on the table.