Malachi and Junior Some More

[hazlogs]

It is currently 23:25 Pacific Time on Sat Jul 28 2001.
Moon phase: Waxing Half

Forgotten Church Basement
        This basement is only partly below ground level, and there are windows 
  evenly spaced on the walls, right below the ceiling level. The main part of 
  it is a large open area with a small kitchen in one corner and a large, 
  ratty carpet in the center, covering the cement floor. There is a rather 
  large window in the kitchen; it looks as though it might actually open onto 
  the street. On the wall opposite the kitchen is a large bin, and there are 
  folding tables along the wall perpendicular to it. On the other wall there 
  are a few folding chairs, many fewer than one would expect from the number 
  of tables.
        A hallway next to the kitchen leads off to two offices and what once 
  might have been a classroom.

Alicia dips her head a bit and plops down on the ground. "Yah, 'round there. 
  Its not much ah'know. Usually he has more, but he was wearing a buncha gold 
  chains this time. Probably went shopping."

Dane hmms. "You know, we shoulda took his chains. I'm sure there must be a 
  pawn shop around here, eh?

Junior ehs. "Yeah...but it's harder t' trace cash."

Malachi wanders out of one of the offices. He stops at the end of the hallway, 
  nose wrinkling briefly into a frown before settling back into it's usual 
  sullen dissatisfaction.

Dane nods. "Probably fake anyway. Fat guy like that wouldn't be strong enough 
  to carry that much real gold."
Dane is 5'10", slender, with gray eyes and long dishwater blond hair he keeps 
  tied in a ponytail. He's wearing a parchment-brown t-shirt decorated with 
  the graphic from the "Steal Your Face" album cover, well-worn jeans, and 
  Birkenstocks. A cotton shoulderbag, of the kind sold in head shops as 
  "genuine Peruvian" carries what little he needs away from home.

Alicia shrugs and grins. "Well, he was bleeding on 'em anyways, so fuck it." 
  Turning her head, she spies the kid and grins. "Hey there Malachi."

Malachi lets one thin shoulder lift and fall in reply to Alicia's greeting. 
  "Hi."

Junior looks up, and nods. "Hey, Malachi."

Dane studies the kid thoughtfully.

Malachi grimaces, turning his face away in a show of ignoring Junior.

Kaz says, "Heya, Malachi," and fades off into the bathroom.

Alicia smiles and leans back against the wall as she stiffles a yawn. "Hey 
  kid, I got some gum on me. Wanna piece?"

Malachi leans against the wall, rolling his eyes toward Alicia. "Rather have a 
  cig," he tells her.

"Then you may as well would rather have a black lung. Gum is better for ya." 
  The girl smirks as she reaches up and behind her, tying her hair back in 
  place with a rubber band.

Malachi squints. "I thought we could, like, shapeshift and then heal just 
  about everything."

Junior shakes his head at Malachi. "Some stuff still gets t' us. Diseases, for 
  instance."

Dane hmms. Must be a new one. "And some stuff is tainted so it's poison even 
  to us."

Alicia nods in agreement. "Yah, so.. ya still gotta wear a condom kid." She 
  winks to him.

Junior rolls his eyes.

Malachi shrugs. "Whatever." His gaze wanders away from the three.

Alicia smirks and glances over to Junior, tossing a pebble at him. "Hey, its 
  better to warn him now eh'?"

Junior shrugs. "Yeah, I guess."

Dane looks between the others with a dubious expression.

Alicia furrows her brows, then pushes herself up. "Well, I can see the party 
  died real quickly. I'm ganna go head uptop and start heading home."

"Whatever," says Malachi again, sullenly apathetic.

Junior nods. "See ya later, Alicia."

Dane hmms and decides slipping out is a wise move. "You might consider, 
  Malachi....right now, the people here want what's best for you. That means 
  keeping you from doing things that are hazardous to your health, too.
Dane heads for the stairs.

Shrugging, Alicia turns and follows after Dane, offering a light sigh.

"Fuck you too," Malachi retorts, wandering away from the hallway to the other 
  end of the basement.

Alicia vanishes up the stairwell to the sanctuary.
Alicia has left.
Dane vanishes up the stairwell to the sanctuary.
Dane has left.


Junior looks towards Malachi. "You just got a good intro to the Children of 
  Gaia..."

"The who?" Malachi gives the wall a kick, smacking the foot of his bare sole 
  against it. He hardly seems interested.

Junior watches the kid. "One of the other tribes. I'm a Bone Gnawer, like Kaz. 
  Dane, the one that's rather stuffy, is a Child of Gaia. They tend t' be..." 
  He hmms. "Treehuggers, some. One of the more friendly tribes. Some are 
  hippies, new agers." He glances towards the stairs. "Some of them don't like 
  cigarettes. Us Gnawers don't care so much."

Malachi smacks his sole against the wall again, this time with a bit more 
  force. "So what am I?"

Junior hmms. "That's a good question. You didn't have a kin fetch that any of 
  us saw, so it's hard t' tell. A kin fetch is a small spirit that comes gets 
  one of us when a cub's ready t' shift." He regards Malachi closely. "Us 
  Gnawers found ya first, so we're doin' your training and will probably be 
  the ones t' rite ya, unless something else shows us you're a different tribe 
  or the like."

Malachi grimaces. "What if I don't wanna be a Gnawer?"

Junior shrugs. "Well...unless we find out for sure you're another tribe, 
  you're stuck with us. Most of the others won't just take a cub in if they're 
  not sure it's one of theirs."

Malachi's foot smacks into the wall with audible violence. "Oh." He sounds 
  less than thrilled.

Junior shrugs. "We're one of the better tribes, least I think so. Ain't 
  exactly top of the pecking order in the tribes, but we're pretty laid back 
  compared t' some."

Malachi makes no real reply to this, though he stops kicking the wall. "This 
  sucks," he says to no one in particular -- Junior could be there or not.

Junior nods quietly. "Yeah, I know. I went through it too, ya know. Though 
  meeting my dad cause of it made it better for me." He shrugs. "Could've been 
  worse, though I suppose that don't mean much. If you'd had your first change 
  at home, you coulda lost it and killed your folks. It's happened t' some of 
  us before. Or you coulda changed in public, and gotten killed by people. Or 
  worse, knocked out and sent t' a lab for dissection. Or picked up by 
  corrupted Garou - Dancers. Or found by banes - corrupted spirits. This is a 
  LOT better than that."

"Yeah, sure." Malachi's tone is one utilized by kids and adolescents 
  everywhere, the voice that believes that nothing fatal or truly hazardous 
  could ever *really* happen to them. "Still sucks."

Junior snorts softly. "Being dead sucks more."

Again comes the half-apathetic, half-irritable, "Whatever." He paces 
  restlessly along the wall, back and forth. Caged tiger, anyone?

Junior regards Malachi, thinking a moment. "Bored? I could start your fighting 
  lessons, if ya want."

Malachi shoots Junior a quick, narrow look. "I don't want you touchin' me." He 
  reaches a corner, kicks the wall with the sole of his foot, then turns to 
  stalk back to the other corner. "How long you gonna keep me here, anyway?"

Junior sighs. "Til you learn t' control your shifting an' some of the other 
  stuff ya need t' know. Ya haven't even met our elder yet - Elan. He's the 
  head of the tribe around here." He regards the kid. "Ya know...there's only 
  two full moons in the tribe right now. Me, and dad. And dad's been busy and 
  not always around. Which means I'll probably be doing your ahroun training."

*Smack* goes Mal's foot against the wall. "I thought werewolves were all 
  soldiers fightin' some war."

Junior shrugs. "Some of us are better at some things than others. What moon 
  we're born under tends t' determine a lot about us. Yeah, I know astrology's 
  bunk. But this works on us. New moons are ragabashea - tricksters and 
  scouts. There's crescents - they're good with spirits and stuff. The 
  half-moons keep out laws - judges, usually. Galliards are the ones between 
  half and full - gibbous moons. Storytellers and the ones that keep our 
  history alive. An' then there's us - full moons. We're the best fighters."

Malachi mutters something under his breath. More audibly, he says, firmly, 
  "You ain't touchin' me again."

Junior growls. "Look, Mal. Suppose I can prove I never tried t' hit on you - 
  that, regardless of what you think, I ain't after ya? Would THAT get the 
  chip off your shoulder so you'll listen t' me, at least about what I know?"

Malachi's reply is a short, blunt, stubborn, "No."

Junior rolls his eyes. "We got half-moons that can tell if people lie, ya 
  know. If I have t', I'll have one of 'em test me in front of you." He shakes 
  his head. "Look, Malachi. I heard you think I set Joey on ya. I didn't. 
  Didn't even know what was going on until he told me. And I chewed him out 
  for it."

"Big deal," Malachi retorts. Upon reaching the corner this time, he punches it 
  with his fist instead of giving it a kick.

Junior shakes his head. "I can see you've washed your brain, and I can't do a 
  thing with it. Fine." He gets up, goes over to get himself a beer, and pops 
  the top of it as he heads upstairs. "Cool your heels down here a while. 
  Maybe when you get bored enough, you'll be willing to listen a little more, 
  instead of being an asshole."

Malachi is left alone to prowl around and hit the walls.