hazlogs | Fitz and Charlene (Reply)

It is currently 16:01 Pacific Time on Thu Jan 22 2015.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 50 degrees Fahrenheit (10 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southwest at 5 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.34 and rising, and the relative humidity is 77 percent. The dewpoint is 43 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius.) For more detail, see: http://www.wunderground.com/cgi-bin/findweather/getForecast?query=98501

Currently the moon is in the waxing New (Ragabash) Moon phase (16% full).

Edgewood House: Garage(#1947RAJh)

This old and spacious building was once a fairly large carriage barn, but has been converted first as garage, and then into something else entirely. It once had massive two-story front doors, but they've been permanently closed, and a smaller door built into them. (It seems to have been reinforced at some point recently.) The walls, too, appear to have been reinforced in some way, making them stronger and somewhat soundproof. The size of about two large rooms, the first floor is undivided. It's got wooden plank flooring, and has exercise equipment dotting its expanse, with free weights in one area on the door's side of the building, a punching bag in a corner, and other equipment scattered about. There's a rough ladder up to the second floor loft, which is carpeted, but has unfinished walls, a few dangling light bulbs, and is apparently serving as a somewhat informal bunk area. The lighting is, understandably, somewhat inadequate. The floor mostly consists of mattresses, innumerable throw pillows and bed pillows, warm bedding, and the occasional glimpse of carpet. There are a few shoes resting against the wall near the ladder; clearly, people are expected to take their footwear off once they get up here. One can peer down from the ladder-opening, or from the edge of the loft. (There's about three feet of space between the edge of the loft floor and the barn walls.) A wooden door on the upper part of the garage leads into the second floor landing of the house. There is no exit to the house from the first floor of the barn.

The converted barn is rather chilly in winter, at least in the large downstairs area (the sleeping loft's much cozier), and Fitz is underdressed in tank-top and jeans as he works up a sweat at the punching bag. His expression is focussed, dead serious as he alternates a nonrepeating routine of punches and kicks, and it's obvious from his form and the muscle tone in his arms that he's not new to this kind of exercise.

Even living in St. Claire for as many years as she has, winter still takes a little getting used to for the transplanted Texan Charlene. Bundled up in a heavy jacket and long pants, hands stuffed deep into her pockets - with gloves, mind you - she appears to be prepared for the worst of the cold weather while normal long-time residents start getting out the long sleeve shirts. Overreaction? Yes, almost certainly in her case.

Pushing her way into the barn from the second floor, she takes a moment to watch the goings on downstairs before heading to the staircase and making her way to the bare wooden floor of the barn, boots scuffing against the worn planks as she walks. She waits, quietly, for a break in the workout before speaking, and even then, it's just a simple "Hey there, Fitz."

Fitz, breathing hard, eyes the Fury with not one iota of friendliness. "What."

"I don't know how much of this you know, but the basic story is that I've challenged for Adren." Charlene begins, her hands in her pockets, watching him. "My challenge is to clear out a warehouse in St. Claire of some banes with a team of three other Garou. You are one of the folks that I'm supposed to ask to come with. You up for cleanin' up a mess or two?"

Fitz smirks, eyes half-lidding. "Oh, yeah. Gaia Barbie told me about that. I even said yes." He uses the tail of his tanktop to wipe sweat off his face, then pulls it off to do the same to his armpits. "I also think she mentioned something 'bout how this was all about you being, oh I dunno, /inspiring/. And as much as I like bashing in Wyrm faces, I gotta be honest with you, cowgirl... I ain't too inspired by you."

"Gaia Barbie....*chuckle* Yep, that's Alicia." Charlene pauses, shrugging out of her jacket, putting it aside, and putting her hat down on top before turning back to him. "As far as you bein' inspired? 'Course you ain't inspired." Charlene easily slips into southern vernacular. "Mainly 'Cause you don't know me. You ain't been around long - what, about a couple of months now? Hell, 'bout all I know 'bout you is that you showed up in the park in town, beat a guy up, an' now you're out here at Edgewood, beatin' up on our innocent little punchin' bag." She gestures to the bag, still swinging from his efforts. "Look, I ain't gonna beg you, an' I ain't gonna force you, 'cause that ain't the way I do things. Causes a lot of problems when you use a fist to get things done instead of words. Chalk it up to bein' a galliard, I guess." She nods towards the punching bag again. "How's that workin' out for ya - beatin' up our little friend? Gettin' what you need out of it?"

"Me 'n him got an agreement." Fitz spin-twists the sweat-soaked tank into a short rope and drapes it over one shoulder. "You're aiming wrong, though, cowgirl." He shrugs. "I already said I was gonna go. Any reason to beat the crap out of something. I'm even pretty good at it. But I'll tell you straight, the other two assholes going on this trip? I think either of 'em would be better than you at leading us." He smirks. "I mean, look at it. Reed's a fucking Get of Fenris Ahroun, that's a no brainer. He's in a badass war pack with motherfucking Black Unicorn, too. Been Wyrmfoe, taken out Black Spiral Dancers, faced death... I'd rather follow /him/ than you. And the other guy? The Gnawer? Fuck, you just look at that guy and know he's seen some shit. A rat following Chimera, so I'm guessing he's sneaky /and/ smart. /And/ he packs with the Get tribal elder, who last I heard did some time in the Amazon. That is fucking impressive. What've you got, compared to that?"

"The fact that the Black Unicorn following, Get-of-Fenris Ahroun is going should be a good start. I asked, and he said he'd go. He and I go way back. Hell, he challenged me to make Fostern. And Slug?" Charlene chuckles. "I've known that crazy bastard since I got here. Knew him before he was Slug, even. Haven't talked to him yet but I'm pretty sure he's goin' too. Thing is? I challenged Alicia - Gaia Barbie - 'cause I knew she'd give me something different. I knew she wouldn't just say 'oh, go find a story no-one has been told before' or 'seek a secret.' I knew that, when I challenged her, she'd stretch me in a way I ain't been stretched before and get me to do something I ain't done much of before, which is lead a group of Garou into a battle to do somethin' that needs doin'." Charlene starts to walk 'round the punching bag, keeping Fitz in sight as she moves. "You want to know what I've done in my time here? Taught a double handful of cubs how to not be eaten by creatures, fought for this place more times than I can remember. I've killed dancers, fomori, and helped clear the moon bridges to get the wasp swarm out of the caern while taking a cannon shell to the chest for my troubles. Powered the rite of Caern Building with my spirit and carry the scars to this day. Groundskeeper of the bawn. About to be head of my own pack." She pauses in her circling. "Besides that and a great set of tits?" She smirks.

"Seriously, you think I'm just going to run in like a headless chicken and get us all dead? I ain't been Garou for ten minutes, Fitz. I know better than that. I'm gonna use all of my abilities, facilities, and experiences to get us in and out in one piece and complete the mission to kill the banes. I'm gonna talk to spirits to get the lowdown on what's going on in there before we go in, so unless something goes horribly pear shaped, we'll come out on top, even with Reed's bans from Black Unicorn. And you?" She gestures to Fitz. "You'll end up with somethin' you can tell you helped with an' if you like, spin it into a good story or an' invite to the sept. But you already said yes anyway, so that's just gravy, ain't it?"

Fitz hooks his thumbs into the front belt-loops of his jeans and listens, head cocked, hair clinging sweatily over his forehead, letting her talk without interruption but not looking particularly convinced. The bit about her breasts, in fact, makes him raise eyebrows in a 'are you fucking kidding me' expression. When she finally winds down, he shrugs. "I've been around the block a few times too, lady," he says. "Talk is cheap, and promises of victory are even cheaper. Ultimately, I wouldn't even give a shit, except Alicia /really/ wants to know that you've got the goods for Adren, and I've known a lot of Adren who were /crap/." The smirk's gone, replaced with a scowl. "Utter and complete crap. So, I'm gonna be watching you, and I'm gonna be judging you, and when the shit goes down, yeah, I'll be a good little mule and follow orders, but if you fuck up, I'm gonna make sure the whole fucking Sept knows about it." He turns and starts for the ladder leading up to the loft. "And that's me being /nice/."

"Wouldn't expect anything less." The Fury replies, watching him go. "I'll get with you when I know more."

Fitz climbs the ladder without deigning to respond.