Tension in the Park

[hazlogs]

14 October 2014

Harbor Park -- Fountain

Situated in the center of a large, open meadow is a clustering of six 
trees, a flower bed, a few steel-and-wood benches set firmly into concrete, 
and a flagstone courtyard that is dominated by a large fountain.

The fountain is a wide circular pool of water some fifty feet across and 
about five feet deep in most places. The sculpture in the center is a mix 
of old and new, traditional and modern: eight concrete-and-stainless-steel 
slabs about six feet high are set in a rough Stonehenge-like circle around 
the center of the fountain. Water flows from their tops, cascading in 
bright mesmerizing sheets to the pool below. Rising above the steel circle 
is a large marble statue of the Water Bearer, an androgynous figure draped 
in robes of flowing water. It bears a large jug carved with various Greek 
symbols, from which pours a seething torrent of water into the pool at its 
feet.

Cars on the nearby street have an excellent view of the park as do any 
residents of the tall buildings which line the waterfront.

The murky waters of the Columbia River flow swiftly along the east side of 
the park. Bracketing the park to the west is First Street and the city of 
St. Claire. Recent construction work is creating an earthen berm several 
feet high all along the borders of the park in all directions.

Ramos moves furtively through the park, shoulders hunched and hands stuffed 
into his coat pockets. He looks this way and that as he makes his way 
toward the closest sidewalk drawing. Being chalk, it's already badly 
smudged and damaged; he stops to look down at it, frowning.

Nicodemus is loitering by the fountain, examing the remnants of past chalk 
drawings of glyphs and other... esoteric artwork. His head cocks from one 
side to the other periodically, as if processing what he's seeing or 
perhaps viewing it from a slightly different perspective. Eventually he 
spots Ramos, whom he recognizes immediately from a prior meeting, creating 
fresh chalk drawings to replace the weathered and worn ones. Curiosity 
peaked, he peels off his left hand's glove and gently touches a nearby 
chalk glyph--a subtle current of unseen magick directs itself in Ramos's 
direction.

Ghost trundles in through one of the park gates. She's not moving very 
quickly, and she appears to be wearing every scrap of clothing she owns; 
that is to say, she's got on both of her shirts and her jacket, with the 
faded cap pulled low, and the hood of her jacket pulled over that. Even 
with all of this, she still looks cold. She's clutching her arms tightly as 
she heads toward the fountain.

Ramos' lips move as he talks to himself, silently. Hunkered down, he looks 
even weirder, his coat bunching and bulging oddly across his broad back. He 
works quickly in white chalk, fixing the damaged drawing, oblivious.

Nicodemus examines Ramos for a moment, and then he's walking towards him. 
Pointedly so. In a non-sneaking way. "Hey," he calls out when there's about 
20 yards between the pair. "The fuck are you doing?" His tone is pitched as 
if Ramos is the one intruding on his turf.

Ghost jerks her head a little at Nick's voice and stops in place. She looks 
from the kin to the chalk-drawing stranger, frowning.

No forewarning sounds of the old beat up truck, though anyone that came 
from the west side might have seen it parked a block or two down this 
evening. A jacket worn hood up gives her some obscurity as she enters the 
park, her gait and posture that of someone intently looking for another 
someone. The call catches her attention first, and as she moves to follow 
the line of potential intersection, she spots the hunched artist. That 
brings her gait to a hurried jog in their direction, one hand slipping back 
to her belt.

Ramos startles, drops the chalk (which is barely more than a nub) and 
awkwardly scrambles back a few steps, nostrils flaring. His mouth works, a 
few stammering syllables falling out. "Nuh-whuh, uh, uh... whuh."

 Nicodemus: Oh. Forgot. Nick is actually a little dirty. Forest dirt 
on him. Recent.

"Not here," Nick says to Ramos, catching Mackenzie's and Ghost's presences 
not too far off. He lowers his voice so it doesn't carry far. "This place 
is claimed already, and I don't know you. Who're you with? What family?" he 
presses. He doesn't, however, go any closer to Ramos--a motion that might 
indicate aggression. He just stands his ground.

Ghost's attention moves from Nick and Ramos to the sound of the noisy 
truck, and then Mackenzie. At that hand slip toward her belt, the other 
woman starts moving in the direction of the forming gathering at a somewhat 
faster clip, no longer hugging her arms, but also no longer suppressing the 
shivers.

Mackenzie doesn't slow her pace until she's pulling just a few years short 
of Ramos, and, oddly enough seems to take up a sort of protective stance in 
front of him. "Hey Back off pal. It's just chalk. Next good rain will clear 
it up. Yeah?" Her hands rest easy at her sides, fingers curled slightly on 
the right one as if very subtly cupping something in it. She glances toward 
the hunched man only briefly to give him a chance at recognizing her.

Ramos remembers his words with some difficulty. "Not... marking. Is, it 
is... message." He looks toward Mackenzie with no small relief, points down 
at the picture he was fixing. It's one of the ones of mountains and spiraly 
things bursting up from the ground. "I could... I could not find you. And 
you said... you said... you wanted to know."

 Ramos: Spiraly as in, uh, curly and free. Not spiraly as in BSD glyph.

Nicodemus waves his hand at the park. "Well then feel free to mark the 
place up with glyphs. Advertise to all the bad guys, who are in the fucking 
town right now, about this place. Put a nice big bullseye on it. That's 
going to go over just great when the city families hear about it."

Ghost doesn't say anything. No greeting to Nick, no glance to Ramos. 
Instead, she moves right up alongside Mackenzie, and suddenly snatches the 
other woman's right wrist, attempting to yank it up and away from both of 
them.

Mackenzie was just giving Ramos a nod of understanding when the unfamiliar 
man begins his scolding. Whatever she was about to interject there is 
tossed aside as her right hand is grabbed, knife and all, and twisted up in 
a way to render the weapon useless. In the blink of an eye she's reached 
for another with her left hand and thrusts it out at the other woman. The 
move is fast, and well practiced, but met with an equally quick secondary 
counter from Ghost, which results in the knife missing the more threatening 
position of at throat, and ended up at shoulder.

Ramos backpedals quickly, his expression alarmed, almost tripping on the 
dragging, frayed cuffs of his pants.

Nicodemus looks on in utter disbelief as the two female garou begin 
brawling. He looks very pointedly at them both and says a single, 
commanding word. "Stop." The word is backed by the force of subtle 
Mind-based magick designed to add gravitas to the command. That single word 
is then followed by one more word. "Now." And then a phrase. "Before you 
create an even bigger scene."

Ghost gives Nick a sharp look. This close, she looks sickly pale, and her 
iron grip on Mackenzie's wrist is cold and clammy feeling. Her eyes flick 
back to Mackenzie; not the knife, but her face, her eyes. "Put them away," 
she says flatly. Her fingers ease a little in their grip, though not enough 
for her to slip free.

Mackenzie gives a visible, though small, shutter at the sudden voice 
commanding them to stop. It causes her to double take sharply at the man, 
before looking back to Ghost and the grip she has on her own wrist. "Was a 
precaution," she growls out through teeth gritted in a frown. The left 
knife, however, is loosened in her grip so it can flip to being pointed 
downard in a limp grip.

Ramos stands right where he is, a little 'outside' the gathering now, 
shifting his weight from one leg to the other and back, looking fidgety and 
uncertain.

Nicodemus wasn't irritable before, but he seems to be now. His gloved right 
hand points at Ramos. "Who do you report to?" He then points at Ghost and 
Mackenzie. "You two want to fight, go somewhere else to kill each other. 
And I've forgotten your name, time traveller," he says to Mackenzie, 
indicating he may have met the Fianna in the past. But then he points back 
to Ramos. "You first. You're the stranger here."

Ghost releases Mackenzie's wrist slowly, and she remains tense, as if ready 
for a second attack. "So was this," she says flatly. To Nick, she says, 
"She was palming a knife. Might have shanked you."

Ramos stares down at his hands. "...The earth moved. Not like the way the 
earth is supposed to move, when... when the hard bones of the earth shift." 
He holds a hand out, palm down, as he says this. He speaks slowly. "I 
looked for answers. She, Mack." He looks up, at Mackenzie, then Nick. 
"Asked me questions. You see her? She is authority. All of her, authority. 
She questioned, she told me, ordered me. If I find out something, bring it 
to her. And... I did. But I could not find her. So, a message." He gestures 
over the park, the fountain. HIs fear seems to leak away, his voice 
becoming more monotone, more lacking in affect. "This place is no secret. 
All who know, know its power. Even... even them."

"Time traveller??" Mackenzie first offers back toward Nicodemus. "We've 
never met, and I don't give out ..." she deflates of course at this, as 
Ramos has just given her name for her, and it's to him she next speaks to. 
"Hey. Hey, hey. I am /not/ authority. I was trying to look out for you, not 
order you around." Eyes roll upward as the things continue to unravel on 
her and her shoulders droop all the more. "It was a throwing knife anyway, 
not a shanking knife." The last said to perhaps everyone and no one all at 
once.

Nicodemus, exasperated, folds his gloved right hand into his recently 
ungloved left hand. "Let's start over, shall we?" He clears his throat. 
"Hello. My name is Nick. I am kin to the Walker family. I occasionally 
assist in that family's efforts to patrol this park and make sure no harm 
comes to it. I also have the family's elder, second in command for the 
area, on speed dial. And she has me on her speed dial." He turns to Ramos. 
"And you are.... ?" he prompts.

Ghost's expression shows some suspicion as she looks toward Ramos, and then 
more when she considers Mackenzie. Nick pretty much confirms all of it. 
There's a noticeable tensing from her as she takes a step backwards.

"Gunther Ramos. I seek the other path." Ramos looks at Mackenzie, frowning. 
"You... you /spoke/ like authority. Like he did."

Mackenzie frowns a bit, shaking her head. "I'm a nobody, I promise. I just 
wanted to make sure you weren't out looking for trouble, so I asked for an 
honest answer." She lets out a slow sigh mixed with a soft 'arg'. "Mack, 
like he said," she nods toward Ramos in gesture as she answers the man's 
question for whose and whats. "Though I don't usually give out the name 
because shit goes sour when that happens. A Fianna. By blood but little 
more than that. Don't really do the whole ... kumbaya thing." A look is 
given to her accoster, "Hey, you don't get to slink off now."

Nicodemus looks from one to the other. "Am I surrounded by anruths?" he 
inquires out loud. "Right. I'm reaching into my pocket for my cell phone. 
Not a weapon." He does so, slowly, and with a look around to make sure no 
one is eavesdropping on the quartet. "Unless someone objects, I'd like to 
take a picture of you; add your name, tribe, and rank; and send it in to 
the local patrol database so we don't get any further potential 
altercations like this. I already know who you are," Nick says to Ghost. 
"They don't."

Ghost's jaw tightens. She wraps her arms around herself again, and breathes 
deep. "Ghost," she says, after a moment.

Ramos doesn't look especially happy about this, but doesn't say anything 
and doesn't move away. He just stands there, a greasy unwashed lump in his 
oversized overcoat and long unwashed hair.

At this, Mack backpedals. "Whoa whoa. Pictures, name, rank, serial numbers? 
What are you, some registrar for the nation or something? I don't belong 
anywhere for a /reason/ and the last thing I want is my name and face on a 
poster, begging to be hunted down for not drinking the Kool-Aid. I mean, 
it's not like we've got aces up our sleeves. You get our info, tomorrow we 
could all be locked up or worse."

Nicodemus pockets the phone. "Fine. Ghost is already known by the locals. 
You two," he says, motioning to Ramos and Mack. "You say you don't belong 
anywhere? You don't want to respect the locals?" A beat. "Respect the 
territory of another," he says pointedly. "Leave the park." He points 
towards the city. "Go."

"I'm not dead yet," Ghost offers, but it's hardly with enthusiasm. "I did 
get chained to a chair for a night because I surprised the Shadow Lords."

Ramos makes a low, phlegmy noise, looking disgruntled. "Territory, 
territory, mine, mine, mine. Why would anyone help you? You do not want to 
save the string. You just care about the knot. And cut it." He waves a hand 
around at the park. "Anyone... anyone who knows, knows this is a place 
important. The message was not just for her. But. Next time, I will not 
make messages. I will keep my knowledge. Mine. Mine. Mine."

Mackenzie balks awkwardly at the sudden command and pointing finger, 
looking between Ghost and the kin with an honest uncertainty. "Are you 
serious? It's a public place. You don't even-" she stops though, as if hit 
with some doubt that brings a furrow to her brow. She looks back to Ramos 
then, "I'm on the same page as you buddy. Sorta. But let's scram before we 
piss off the kin."

"If you're electing to ostracize yourselves, so be it," Nick says levelly. 
"All I'm asking for is name, rank, and family so I can share it with the 
people who patrol here. If that's too much of an imposition, then it's 
probably best that you leave."'

Ghost is watching the other two Garou carefully. "I don't think they have 
family," she says in response to Nick. Her voice is still rather dull 
sounding. "They're already ostracized. Like me. In uh, in other cities, 
that information is used to run them out."

"Gunther Ramos. I seek the other paths. Crescent moon. My mother a wolf. My 
father a wolf." He still looks displeased, but his voice has dropped back 
into a monotone. "You will take my picture? Then take my picture." He holds 
his arms out like a particularly ugly Jesus.

Mackenzie brings a hand up to rub over her face in a tired motion. When 
Ramos offers himself up, she closes her eyes and slumps again. "Christ. 
Always comes to this." She looks toward Ghost with a narrowed gaze, then 
back to Nick. "I ain't a bad seed. I'm just here looking for someone. You 
got my name, you got my family pedigree- not that those in the know find it 
hard to figure out. I'm a half moon." She wipes her hands and holds them 
palm up at that. "And I guess I'll being staying out of your damn park."

Nicodemus nods once, acknowledging the Fianna's choice and departure. He 
turns to Ramos and says, "Sorry." He pulls his smartphone back out to take 
the picture. Once done, he starts tapping in some additional information. 
"Ronin, as well? You're not the only one around here. People'll give you a 
decent shake if you give them one in return. Except maybe the Shadow 
Lords." He shrugs. "Plus, this'll let you get your message out better. If 
you still want to share it, that is."

Ramos lets his arms drop. "Maybe," he says roughly and turns to go.