Unpleasantries

[hazlogs]

It is currently 20:09 Pacific Time on Sat Jan 10 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 Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (64% full).
Edgewood House: Meadow(#1390RJh)

A long, hard-packed dirt road winds almost a mile through the forest off Sunrise Road, eventually opening out into a small front yard, and coming to a stop in front of a large house, which may be the very definition of ramshackle. The house is not visible from the road, nor can one hear anything but perhaps a gunshot. Its foundation and general structure are solid, but its once crisp grey-and-white paint needs updating, and some of the trim is having trouble staying attached. A fixer upper, one might say. Off to the left, there's a former garage, long since converted into something of an in-law apartment. A connecting flyover attaches it to the second floor of the house.

There are no fences surrounding either the front or back yards. In the rear of the property, the yard (larger than in the front) eventually comes up against a well built garden, with the very beginnings of sprouts. Shaded and obscured by surrounding trees, there is a small (but deep) natural pond, with a chuckling brook leading out of it, into the woods. There's a rope swing hanging from one of the trees. The yard to the southeast of the property stretches on for a time, and then is eaten by woods, into which there may or may not be a path; it apparently fades away quickly. There's a certain looming feel to these woods.

Mae turns at her waist to look over to Little Silvertip as she suddenly jumps Esther. She raises her eyebows in mild amusement and winces a little when one of the benches is knocked to the ground in their tussle. "What's that?" she asks in interest.

Little Silvertip licks over her pack mate a few more times, before finally letting Esther get back up. Turning to face Mae, the athro all but beams. This one's little cousin became second ranked! She beat up a Get lots!

Esther sits up, wiping her face off though the pink in her cheeks remains. Her hand falls to her neck which she rubs absently, her lips quirked as she speaks in English. "I challenged a Get for rank and.. am now Fostern." No boasting here though it certainly shows in the gleam in her eyes. "Battle-Born-ryha was clever and powerful. I was honored to fight him."

Fitz slouches out of the barn, pulling on a grey hoodie too thin for the weather.

This guy's like an unholy hybrid of sneery video store clerk and 1950s greaser. He's white, about twenty years old, and somewhere around the six foot mark (maybe a bit under, but hard to say for all the slouching he does), and he looks like the kind of guy who revels in being an absolute steaming pile of shit to everyone around him. His straight brown hair is rarely brushed, rarely washed, and slightly too long, especially in the way it tends to hang in oily strings over his forehead. He's not ugly, and maybe if he shaved off that grungy stubble and smiled more (and not in that lips-pursed smirky cocky way that he usually substitutes for smiling), he'd look pretty good in a boyish kind of way. But he doesn't and isn't. So much for that idea. He's got nice blue eyes, at least.

He's usually dressed in torn jeans, scuffed boots, and wrinkled t-shirts, sometimes paired with a cheap black jacket or flannel overshirt or hoodie. His voice is deep, rough, and growly in a way that's actually pretty pleasant on the ears, and may be his best feature. (If only what usually comes out of his mouth wasn't shit.)

Mae grins quite a bit when it is mentioned that the Wendigo bet up at Get. "Attagirl!" Mae congratulates. "Oh, I am sure... Get are..." She trails off as she spots Fitz coming out of the barn. She attentively waves towards him.

Little Silvertip lets out a little puff. This one knows wendigo are better than Get in all ways except for losing, she proudly proclaims, rubbing up against her cousin's leg. The Uktena looks more than a little pleased. Looking up to Esther, she wonders when she's going to give out gifts?

This three-year-old, arctic wolf's thick white coat stretches over an equally thick and stocky frame. She's about two and a quarter feet tall at the shoulder and four from tip to tail, significantly shorter, more stout, and much more bulky than your run of the mill wolf. Copious muscles can be seen sliding along when she moves, even under her heavy coat. Like the rest of her subspecies, her paws seem almost too large for her body. She often favours her left hind leg just so slightly. Among her coat are about as many scars as one would expect for a wolf of her age. (+details set)

Fitz answers Mae's wave with an upraised middle finger and an unfriendly curl of his lip, then zips up his hoodie and shoves his hands into its pockets.

Esther notices Fitz over there by the barn and notices the bird he gives Mae's friendly wave. A brow is raised in curiosity but it certainly doesn't diminish her enthusiasm. Turning back to Mae and the wolf on the porch, she nods with a grin. "I know that look, Ciuraq. You're waiting.. well, you're going to have to wait because I..wasn't sure what to expect from Reed so your gift will have to wait until I'm through with it." A pause then, softer, "Who is that?" Meaning Fitz, of course. "I don't think I've met him."

Mae makes a face in mild disgust when Fitz responds with the middle finger. "How was that deserved?" the red-headed woman asks. She irritatingly brushes wood dust from her pant legs. The answer she gives to Esther is, "I don't know. That makes two of us."

Little Silvertip turns when the other two do, looking over towards Fitz. Instantly, her eyes narrow, and her tail raises slowly into a more actively dominant height. The small wolf starts a few steps over in his direction, sniffing all the while.

You paged Little Silvertip with 'Unwashed reasonably healthy male, minor city stuff, mostly the surrounding area. Doesn't shower often, or at least doesn't use the human stuff to make him smell pretty.'.

Fitz saunters closer to the group, hands still stuffed into hoodie pockets. "Give me time," he says, answering Mae's disgust. "I'm sure I'll think of something. I mean, other than your face."

Esther pushes herself up to stand when the wolf starts in Fitz's direction, her hands resting on the railing of the porch as she observes. A nod is given to Mae briefly though she frowns at hearing Fitz's words to Mae.

"I don't know what that means," replies Mae with a confused expression on her face. "Joe, are you going to give us a name or keep throwing insults?" Placing the bow she is working at at her side, she plants her hands on her narrow hips.

Little Silvertip starts to circle out to the side, sniffing the whole time as she investigates with a near obsession with the nasal. Her stiff posture is definitely high, and dominant now, like clearly the biggest dog in the park.

Fitz keeps an eyeball on Silvertip, careful like one might be around any potentially dangerous animal, but continues talking to Mae. "What I /meant/ is that I don't like your face. You look like a cow. A milk-white red-headed cow. Brainless. Why the fuck are you waving so enthusiastically at me if you don't even know who the fuck I am?"

Esther keeps her gaze on the wolf as she circles around the man who saunters his way toward the porch. "You're here at Edgewood which means you must belong here in -some- manner or the others would have chased you away. So indulge us.. " The dark haired woman is clearly growing irritated by this man speaking to Mae but she seems to be waiting or holding herself back from doing much of anything except to talk.

Little Silvertip comes to a stop, eyes going from narrowed, to round and suspicious. who is stranger? The Uktena doesn't so much ask, as demand.

"I am..." Mae is about to stand up for herself when Esther and Little Silver presumably stand up for her. "Ducky," she says under her breath. "You'd better answer her... she looks like she could beat you up real good," Mae says pleasantly to Fitz.

Fitz's lips curve in an ugly little smirk at Mae's last remark, bitter and knowing. Then he cuts his eyes over to Silvertip. "Fitz. Also known as" -- he switches briefly to Mother's Tongue, grunting out a curt word. ~Fits.~ (As in spasms and seizures.) Back in English, he lays out the rest of his pedigree, carelessly. "Fianna, Cliath, Galliard, Metis. Most recently from the Lone Oak Sept, which is pretty damned dead, so." He shrugs.

Esther remains on the porch with her fingers curled over the railing as she listens to Fitz's introduction of sorts. A grunt is given toward the wolf and a raise of her chin. "Metis." Is all the Wendigo says though only as if to explain something.

Little Silvertip wrinkles her nose a bit. Metis, she agrees, casting a long glance at her pack mate. After a moment (and presumably some back and forth over their pack-link?), she looks back to the Metis: This one is Little Silvertip Mauls the Horned Serpent. Little Silvertip who Slays Carnage-Ikthya and his mate, Eclipse-Ikthya. Little Silvertip who Brings Back Light's Gift to the Wolf People. Fourth ranked warrior of Uktena's tribe, alpha of Deep Waters under the same totem. Member of the Sept of the Three. Adopted pup of Driftwood Dances. Sister of Tempest's Wake, cousin to Storm of the North.

The noise of a motorcycle whizzes through the night, off in the direction of the paved road. It halts, somewhere out there, the light flashing briefly before disappearing.

Little Silvertip, when she refers to her cousin, motions towards Esther.

"My f'ugly face has more pedigree than yours," Mae replies with a grin. "Is that why you are so unpleasant?" She rolls up her eyes for a moment before she introduces herself to her sleazebag tribemate. "I'm Maebh O'Connell, ~Burning-Bright~, Daughter of the Stag, born under the Crescent Moon, Cliath Rank. Daughter of an Adren Ahroun. Formally of Sept of the Wind Catchers, also fallen, ex-member of Homestretch under Epona circa 1930's. So, yes I am a time traveler."

"Oh, yes, Moo'Connell-rhya," says Fitz in answer to Mae. The mockery is undeniable. He's not ignoring Silvertip -- he seems very aware of where the Uktena is -- but Mae has most of his attention. (And Esther /is/ being ignored for the moment.) "That is /exactly/ why I'm so mean to you. I'm just fucking twisted /up/ with envy." He demonstrates this by clutching the cloth over his heart. "I might just fucking /die/ I'm so torn up." He pauses a beat. "Or maybe it's like I said earlier. I just don't like your face."

Esther pulls herself up proudly when she hears her Alpha speak though she doesn't take her eyes off Fitz just yet. "I am Esther Kaganak, Carries Her Own Weight in Battle, born under Luna's full face, newly ranked Fostern of the Wendigo.. " Though it's about all she gets out because it's very obvious that Fitz isn't listening or just doesn't care at this point. The Wendigo simply remains on the porch near Mae, scowling as she listens to Fitz though making no motion toward him.

Little Silvertip glances back over to her Cousin as she introduces herself, and then back to Fitz. Her hackles roil a bit, on behalf of her pack mate, and ears perk forward in annoyance. Fitz gets a toothy look.

"I don't admire your's either," Mae says in a flat tone of voice. Once introductions are all made, the Theurge rises from the porch step.

A smallish human figure appears, walking down the road toward the house, something round dangling from one hand.

"Aw." Fitz cocks his head to one side, eyes wide and lower lip quivering in a mocking parody of sorrow. "I'm so sad about that. I'm gonna write a sonnet and cry."

Little Silvertip doesn't notice the Kin's arrival, attention on the back and forth between the two Fianna. The wolf sticks herself next to her cousin, glowering at the newer Fianna.

Esther releases the porch railing and instead rests her hand on the back of the wolf that stands beside her. There is clear irritation in her stance but after another hard look Fitz's direction, she simply turns from him. "It is nice to meet you, Burning Bright, yet another Ahroun." WHich brings a grin to her face.

The approaching figure resolves into a woman, diminutive, motorcycle helmet swinging from one hand. It's more of an easy saunter than a purposeful walk, really.

"You are the biggest egg I've ever met," Mae replies towards Fitz while shaking her head. The insults by the Galliard appear to roll off of Mae like oil and water. "I am sure you do that every night while locked away in your mother's wardrobe closet," Mae answers. She looks back at Esther and explains, "Oh... I am not. I am a Theurge. My mother was an Ahroun."

Fitz drops the sadface and stuffs his hands back into the pockets of his hoodie. "Insulting a mule about his mother. I dunno if there's anything more pathetically useless than that." He directs this remark to nobody in particular, though afterward does turn his head to note the newcomer.

Moonlight glints off the metal ornamenting Rina's jacket, and the leather gives back a faint shine. She's dressed for long riding: leather pants, motorcycle gloves and boots; the jacket's undone to reveal a grey thermal beneath.

Little Silvertip looks vaguely amused something, but when Rina arrives, the Uktena eventually notices her. And when she does, the athro finds some place where she can shift unseen, and takes homid - presumably out of consideration. On returning, she gives Rina a small wave, then folds her arms.

This late twenty-something Alaska Native woman stands under five feet tall - something that's made worse with her usual slouching posture - but she looks far from frail. Not unsightly, Ciuraq has a boxer's physique, with a fit but well figured body, and muscular arms and thick legs which contributes to her stout look. Her round face has a small broad nose, wide mouth, and a faint scar runs along part of the lower left part of her face; her jaw looks like it's been injured in the past. Her small, wide-set, dark brown eyes have an almond shape and arching eyebrows, and her thick black hair hangs to her middle back, usually braided. In spite of her stature, she can seem physically dominating, and possesses a unstopability usually reserved for locomotives or rampaging beasts.

Her garb is somewhere between warm weather and cold. Her shirt is a singly-ply affair, the outside of the garment an off beige of leather. There's no hood behind the low collar, and the bottom dips down into a U shape in the front and back, coming up to the hips at the side, and is lined with two black and bleached-white checkerboard strips. Underneath she's wearing a pair of midweight hide leggings with heavy patches on the knees. She has a pair of low top, heavy soled boots. They're brown at the bottom and white rimmed at the top. When the weather is wet, she also wears a hooded jacket of nearly transparent skins. It has a regular, bumpy texture. She wears a necklace made of smooth stone beads, and she has a small fur pouch on her hip, partially hidden under the shirt. It has a faint phenolic smell. She favours her left leg slightly when she moves. Depending on what she's wearing, sometimes the whale fluke tattoos can be seen circling her collar bone, two in the front, two on her back. (+details set)

Esther can't help but laugh at perhaps herself as she speaks with Mae, pointedly ignoring Fitz this time in turn. "My mistake. I hear the word and my mind latches quickly onto it. A Theurge. Still a pleasure and your bow looks amazing even in it's early stage."

The woman reads forms, figures, body language, tensions. Her eyes narrow a touch as one of the figures moves out of sight, but then the Garou returns and Rina's posture eases just a little.

"..." Mae trails in silence as she looks towards the newcomer making their way to the back of the property. She doesn't wave at Rina at first. When the Uktena waves at the presumably familiar kinfolk, Mae also offers a wave. She turns to Esther and smiles shyly, "Thank you very much."

Jacinta steps into view from the direction of one of the paths that leads to the caern. Her approach is slow, measured, as she studies those by the house.

Fitz sizes up the woman in leather for a second or two before calling over to her. "Come on over, we're having a real sweet slumber party over here." The sarcasm's thick.

Rina's gaze flicks toward the movement, sharp for a moment. She focuses on the Wendigo for a moment, and then gives a nod, or maybe a small bow of the head--lowering those dark eyes for a moment in a gesture of submission. The others, she doesn't really recognize-- but she looks them over, her expression unreadable as she gives a brief nod to the Uktena. "Yeah," she says dryly, finally studying Fitz. "I could tell. So. Who the hell are you?"

Ciuraq, though not asked, takes a few moments before she chimes, in, "Ciuraq Aketachunak." She supplies, tapping herself, like to show just who she means. "Little Silvertip."

Esther leans herself heavily against the porch railing, her back toward Fitz as she gives a glance down one of the paths nearby when she spots movement. It only takes her a moment to spot Jacinta and with a broad smile, she hops off the porch toward her. "Jacinta-rhya." Clearly the younger girl is more than delighted to see her.

A sharp glance to the speaker, and Rina gives a more significant nod, black brows lifting briefly in surprise. Her attention returns to Fitz, though, sharpening again.

In good faith, Mae slips out a metal flask full of a homebrew booze from her pocket and offers it first to Fitz. "It's a Prohibition-era recipe," she explains. Who better to perfect it than the one who lived it. She doesn't supply an introduction just yet to the Walker Kinfolk. The Theurge turns her gaze towards Jacinta when Esther announces her arrival.

"Esther," Jacinta returns, a smile touching her lips for just a moment. "You did well," she adds, before her attention returns to the others. She returns Rina's nod, offering a similar silent greeting to the Uktena, and then lets her gaze rest on the Fianna, head tipping slightly to the side.

"Fitz, Metis, Fianna, Cliath, Galliard." He throws the introduction out to Rina like he doesn't give a shit about it, and anyway here's Mae trying to make friends. "I don't drink piss," he tells her, sneering. "Fuck off."

Ciuraq looks a few moments after her cousin, offering her sibling a fond grin, and an enthusiastic wave. "Caq did better than good." She chimes in, in Yup'ik, giving Esther a solid shake of the shoulder. "Those Get won't forget it."

Rina purses her lips slightly, a brow raising at the Fianna's answer to Mae. "Rina, Walker, Kin, wow... dick much?"

Mae bows her head to Jacinta as a way of greeting. "Jacinta-rhya, I would like to speak with you. If you have a moment?" she asks politely. When Fitz refuses her flask, she gives him a look before offering it out to anyone who wishes a sip. Yes, Mae is trying to make friends. You never know when you might need one. "I am Maebh O'Connell. Fianna, Theurge, and Cliath." She quickly introduces to Rina.

Esther straightens her shoulder to stand proudly under Jacinta's praise as she grins at Ciuraq. "He was a fighter though. Got a few good bites in before I took him down but I've had good teachers." The Wendigo nods, looking toward Jacinta once again with pride in her eyes though it's slightly marred by Fitz's attitude.

Rina's gaze flickers over to Mae, briefly, before returning to Fitz.

Jacinta nods again at Silvertip's praise of Esther, clearly in agreement though she remains less effusive. Mae gains her attention, but her eyes narrow, nostrils flaring, clearly finding something distasteful. "Speak," she says, arms folding over her chest.

Fitz tilts his chin up a little and scratches at a stubbly jawline. "'Find what you're good at and strive to be the very best,'" he says carelessly, answering Rina. "...Though at least I'm not stupid enough to casually offer booze to a Pure One."

Rina snorts. "Classic whitey move," she agrees. "Everybody know the Inj--" she breaks off, making a face of chagrined 'oops' and glancing to Jacinta. One hand rubs at the back of her neck, the gesture reminiscent of a scolded schoolboy... except that she's in her thirties, probably. "Ah, yeah. Booze and smallpox blankets." She looks over to Mae. "Got a blanket? You could offer wampum." That dry humor is back, almost instantly. Clearly Jacinta is the target of that brief moment of apology.

Ciuraq's eyes, likewise, narrow at Mae. The athro folds her arms, regarding both Fianna, now, with a little suspicion and distain.

"I know that when I returned from Chicago we briefly discussed the terms of my chiminage. In the time after we spoke, I taught Charlene-rhya the Gift of Spirit Speech, Watcher-yuf the Gift of Captured Dreams, and Sera-rhya the Rite of Silence. Also, I offered to teach Linnaea a gift next week. Would this be acceptable has chiminage?" Mea asks the Sept Alpha. She shoots a look at Fitz and then briefly at Rina. Her face turns a bright shade of copper-tone red in possible embarassment. "Fuck you," she says in a flat tone as she shoves the flask away.

At the mention of Chicago, Rina glances to the woman, a flash of curiosity showing before it's wiped away. She purses her lips wryly. "Anytime, beautiful. Come on over to the dark side and you'll never want cock again." She touches her tongue to her upper lip, giving the woman a saucy little wink.

Fitz snickers.

Esther's brow spikes as she listens to Rina then with a glance Ciuraq's direction, she moves to straighten the fallen bench on the porch then place herself on it, learning back against the porch railing to listen.

Ciuraq snorts a bit at Rina's comments, before turning to follow her cousin. She gives her pack mate a long look, before gesturing back over towards the Theurge with her head. Pack-Link stuff, no doubt.

Esther scoots a little closer to Ciuraq when she sits down next to her. Her gaze shifts to the Theurge, eyeing her for a long moment before she nods slowly.

"You two should go on a date," Mae points to Fitz and Rina. She then answers Rina with a grin and a short chuckle, "I lived during the Prohibition. You have no idea what I have seen..." She pauses, "I'm good."

Ciuraq bursts out laughing, and thwacks Esther on the back hard enough that if the younger ahroun were choking, Silvertip would have just cured that. She says something low to her pack mate, in that mutual lingo of theirs.

Esther jerks foward at the thwack to her back, coughing to catch her breath as she eyes Ciuraq while rubbing her throat. Something low is muttered under her breath toward her Alpha, a smirk on her lips.

"Pretty sure she said she wants /you/, Moomoo," Fitz says to Mae, pulling up his hood. He starts heading off.

"Taken, actually," Rina says lightly. "Famiglia Vencenzo," she says pointedly to Mae, one corner of her mouth tugging upward in a humorless, wicked expression. "And believe me, mia bella, Prohibition's got *nothin'* on the twenty-first century."

Ciuraq's brow bobs. Tugging her cousin up, she gestures back off to the direction with her head. "Come, eh.... come on? L... let's go, uh, go Caern. Show me how you fighted." She tells her pack mate as she starts to leave.

Esther shoves herself off the bench though she dips her head Jacinta's way as she follows after Ciuraq, leaving the others here to work things out between them.