Sniffing out Malachi

[hazlogs]

It is currently 20:59 Pacific Time on Sun Jul 22 2001.

Wharf, Pier Two
The creak and sway of the rotting boards are in sync with the gentle slap of 
  water against the pylons. Only the sections of the Pier jutting far into the 
  river have fallen into disrepair. The sections nearest the bank are still is 
  fair condition as some commerce still occurs by way of the river. However, 
  many goods that were once shipped via the waterway are now shipped overland 
  which is cheaper and faster. The wharf stands as testament to an older time, 
  when the River was a lifeline for the city.
Beyond the warehouses lining the banks to the west, the black asphalt strip of 
  First Street can be seen.

Currently the moon is in the waxing No Moon phase (15% full).

Malachi sits crosslegged at the edge of one of the less-rotted piers, puffing 
  at a cigarette as he stares out over the water. The kid's face is drawn into 
  a grim, surly expression, and he seems lost in thought.

Legbreaker pads along, leading Matt and Bernie out onto the wharf. When he 
  sees Malachi, he chuffs softly to the two with him. That's him, there.

Bernie wanders in beside Matt, behind the dog, her hands deep in her jacket 
  pockets. She regards the boy on the pier thoughtfully as they proceed.

~Follow my lead, I've got an idea~ Matt growls under his breath. Handing her 
  the plastic bag containing dinner, he pats his pockets. "Shit!" he comments, 
  then looks around. Immediately he brightens, and approaches Malachi. "Oi, 
  mate. doan't suppose Oi could bum a salmon there from ye?" He points toward 
  the cigarette, inhaling the smoke.

Legbreaker pads quietly along beside Matt, watching Malachi.

Malachi shifts his weight, turning halfway around to give the trio a wary, 
  surly look-over. His gaze passes unconcernedly over the dog to study Bernie 
  and Matt for a moment. Then he shrugs. "Yeah, I guess," he says in a dull 
  tone of voice, plucking the spare cigarette from behind his ear. He pushes 
  to his feet and extends the cig toward Matt.

Bernie flashes the kid a smile, but continues to mainly concern herself with 
  holding the bag. She rocks back a little on her heels, getting a comfortable 
  stance.

Matt smiles, widely. "Excellent. Fanks, mate. Oi owe ye one. Pay ye back 
  someday, promise." he accepts the cigarette, lighting it with a flick of the 
  wrist, his lighter appearing from a pocket as if by sleight of hand. "You 
  know th' chinese proverb? May ye live in interestin' times? Oi predict 
  things will get interestin' sooner ravver than later."

Legbreaker turns his head, looking up at Matt.

Bernie eyes Matt a second, raising a brow, and then looks to the boy, nodding 
  once. "I'd listen t' him. He's s'prisin'ly good at predictin' these things, 
  sometimes."

Malachi squints at Matt with frowning bemusement. "Uh... yeah." His eyes flick 
  back and forth between Bernie and Matt, rapidly. He fiddles with his 
  cigarette, looking... twitchy, to say the least.

Legbreaker chuffs softly, wagging his tail as he looks up at Matt. He is, 
  then? Should we take him tonight, is he close? Or can it wait?

Matt shrugs, nodding almost imperceptibly to Legbreaker. "Aye. Me ma was a bit 
  fae. Welsh, ye see. Met a guy once, and joost felt Oi ought ta tell 'im ta 
  'old onta an arrow fer the dentist." He gestures with the cigarette, 
  painting trails of smoke through his conversation. " 'e took me fer an 
  anorak, 'course, and tol' me 'e'd joost seen to 'is teef. Still an' all, 
  week later 'e comes ta me all amazed. Seems he'd chipped bof incisors at an 
  Arsenal game. Crowd got in a row and shoved 'im into a concrete wall. So. 
  Sometimes Oi can tell, 's all."

Malachi wrinkles his nose, his expression dubious as he listens to Matt's 
  speech (and not understanding some of it, to judge by the flickers of 
  incomprehension that occasionally pass across his face). His eyes continue 
  to move restlessly; he shifts his weight and brings the cigarette up to his 
  mouth for another quick inhale-exhale. "...Okay..."

Legbreaker turns his attention back to Malachi, and chuffs at him, wagging his 
  tail.

Bernie nods along, seeming to follow this perfectly. "So, y'know. Y'might 
  wanna keep an eye out for th' outta th' ordinary. Jussa thought."

Malachi frowns at Bernie, then shrugs. Shifts his weight again, warily.

Matt smiles, scratching Legbreaker on the head. "Well, anyway. Oi appreciate 
  ye bein' 'ere for me in me time o' need. If Oi can return th' favor, Me 
  name's Matt. Ye can find me usually around 'arbor Park, or Oi work at Ruth 
  Cris' Steak'ouse."

"Mal," returns the kid, automatically. Not that he's looking to be all buddy 
  buddy anytime soon. He even grimaces a little at mention of Harbor Park.

"Bernie," the girl chimes in, "...niceta meetcha." She glances at the dog, 
  then back to Matt, "...prolly oughta get this stuff home 'fore it gets 
  inedible, yeah?"

Matt nods. "Aye, or before Legbreaker 'ere decides ta make off wif it." He 
  scruffs the ahroun. "You'd like that, wouldn'tcha. Wouldn'tcha?"

Malachi rolls his eyes and takes another few puffs on his cigarette. "Your 
  dog's name is Legbreaker?"

"You'd be s'prised," Bernie confirms, dryly, eyeing the canid. "Anyway. We 
  off?"
Legbreaker barks up at Bernie, wagging his tail, and pads over to her.

Matt smiles. "Aye. An' 'es earned it." To Bernie he likewise agrees. "Sure an' 
  Oi've got me nic fix."

Malachi says nothing, waiting for the trio to wander off, his impatience 
  ill-concealed.

Legbreaker pads off, following his two friends.