This City Stinks

[hazlogs]

[12/14/97]

Kyle shakes his head, a twitch at the corner of his mouth distantly resembling 
  a smile. "Nah. Check with your insurance company."

Sally MacKay does not miss the slight change of his expression; a flicker of 
  mischief comes into her eyes. She closes on him, her chin raising enough to 
  allow her to meet his eyes as she moves away from Hershey. "But they're not 
  here now, /you/ are," she says in mock-challenge.

Hershey sits up quickly, her ears moving forward and her posture becoming 
  tense, worried.

Kyle's reaction is not quite what one might expect, but after a moment it 
  becomes clear that he's had a good union indoctrination. He slouches, 
  frowning stupidly. "Sorry, ma'am. I'm on break. You'll have ta talk to the 
  foreman."

Bailey's expression breaks, as he laughs at Kyle's comment.

Sally MacKay joins in with Bailey's laugher. "To hell with it, they were ugly 
  plates anyway." She smiles and shakes her head as she steps back half way to 
  where she had been standing before. She nods at him, her eyes still bright 
  with amusement, "You're good at that, why'd you quit?"

Hershey hruffs, relaxing. Slowly, the Gnawer flops down again.

Kyle straightens up, resuming his natural, aggressive posture. "I thought I'd 
  had a lucky break. I didn't."

Bailey kneels down, scratches Hershey behind the ears, and whispers something 
  in her ear.
From afar, Bailey whispers, "Bailey Jacobsen, Cliath Glasswalker Gibbous Moon."

"Yeah?" Sally takes a hand from her pocket only long enough to run it through 
  her hair and push it back from her face. "What kinda break?"

Hershey glances over at Bailey and huffs a nuetral acknowledgement.

Bailey smiles broadly, and gets back up on his feet.

Kyle shakes his head, shifting on his feet restlessly. "Don't wanna go there. 
  Too many bad memories." The last is said with more than a drib of irony, 
  though only one here is likely to get it. Kyle shoves his hands back into 
  his coat pocket, then nods once to Sally, Bailey, and, oddly, Hershey. "It's 
  been real. But I gotta head out."

Sally MacKay gives him a little wave and nods, "Sorry. Catch you later, 
  maybe." Then she turns back to Hershey and Bailey.

Bailey smiles again. "Good meeting you, Kyle."

Hershey wuffs a farewell ripe with mixed emotions.

Kyle acknowledges the various farewells with a grunt. The Get strides off, 
  moving with his unconsciously predatory gait.
Kyle picks his way south, into the overgrown meadow.
Kyle has left.

Hershey relaxes visibly once the Get is gone.

Now that Kyle's gone, Sally looks between the two others. "So, like, you two 
  know each other?"

Bailey shakes his nead. "Not until about ten or so minutes ago."
Bailey crouches on his heels in front of hershey. "Sorry about before, but I 
  didn't want to say anything out loud." He looks off into the direction where 
  Kyle left.

Hershey utters another hruff and stares off after Kyle. Don't worry about it. 
  It's not your fault. I just hate that bastard.

Bailey raises an eyeborw. "You know him?"

Sally MacKay waves a hand as she makes the introductions, "Bailey this's, eh," 
  she gives the lupe another look. "Eh, I forgot her name." She huffs softly 
  to herself, then continues, "Well that's Bailey, anyway," she tells the 
  Gnawer.

Bailey chuckles. "Hershey Kisses. I heard."

Hershey's teeth flash briefly. Yeah, I know him. That fucker killed my alpha.

Sally MacKay ahs and nods. "Right," she says just a tad distractedly as she 
  watches what seems like it might be a conversation if one of the two was 
  not, well, a dog at the moment.

Bailey eyes widen. "He's Garou? Why didn't he say anything?"

Hershey flickers an ear and then chews at an itch on her foreleg. Who the fuck 
  knows? Or cares. Fuck it. I'm ditchin' this craphole of a city soon anyway.

Sally MacKay huhs? "Who is?" She frowns, pushing her hands further into her 
  pockets.

Bailey saddens. "I'm sorry. About your Alpha."

Frustration clear at being unable to follow the conversation, Sally turns 
  away. "Catch ya later," she says a tad flatly as she heads off.

Hershey tosses her head a bit and huffs. Forget it. It's done, it's gone, 
  and... yeah. That bastard murderer walks free. Fuckin' injustice, it is.

Bailey nods as his eyes narrow in remembered pain at the word 'injustice.' "If 
  it's an injustice, why leave the city? All the shit that others do comes 
  back to them. It'll take a while, but I speaking from experience. What tribe 
  is he?"

Sally MacKay picks her way south, into the overgrown meadow.
Sally MacKay has left.

Hershey growls faintly. Forget it. He's Get, and it's already been judged. 
  Bastard walks free. Fuck it.

Bailey eyes narrow further at the mention of Kyle's tribe. "Three thoudsand 
  miles, and still some shit don't change. But leaving St. Claire isn't the 
  answer. You have a pack here, so this /is/ a home to you. Again, speaking 
  from experience, leaving isn't going to make anything go away."

Hershey grunts a negative. Yeah, well, Wears-Blue might be going with me. 
  Look, I don't really wanna argue about it, okay?

Bailey stands. "I still think if you leave, then that just Gives Kyle another 
  victory on your pack. If there's one thing that Shadow Eyes taught me, it's 
  you have to face things, or they'll destroy you, one way or another."

Hershey growls, her temper dark. Yeah, well, fuck you. That said, the Gnawer 
  starts to trot off.

Bailey sighs a bit, his expression betraying hurt as the Gnawer leaves. he 
  turns, takes a last look at the fountain, and walks off.

[Scene change -- the Rialto]

Hershey lies sprawled on her usual mattress, head resting on her forelegs and 
  looking gloomy.

Davy comes in from upstairs, boots thudding on the stairs on his way down.

Hershey lifts her head from her paws. Her tail moves, thumping against the 
  mattress in welcoming greeting to her favorite packmate, but her mood's 
  still subdued.

Davy frowns a little, rubbing his beard, as he sits on the bed. "You look 
  kinda down still, Hersh."

Hershey scoots over and rests her head on Davy's legs. Yeah. I dunno... the 
  whole city kinda stinks now.

Davy buries his hand in her ruff. "I dunno if the city's changed. It's just us 
  that have."

Hershey sighs. Yeah, I know. It still stinks to me. I used to like Christmas, 
  but this year it just sucks.

Shadow Eyes comes in from the stairs.
Shadow Eyes has arrived.

Davy pauses in the petting, then says softly, "You bailing on us, sis? You 
  seem to have lost your heart for it all."

Shadow Eyes nuzzles open the door and pads in, with White-Eye close behind.

Hershey and Davy are on Hershey's mattress, him sitting up and her with her 
  head on his legs. Her ears move backwards, and she glances briefly up at 
  Davy before looking away. I dunno. I just can't take it much anymore.

White-Eye has arrived.

Shadow Eyes sniffs, and pads forward, ears slightly forward. He flicks an ear 
  to Hershey. We can come back another time my sister?

Davy looks up and shakes his head, with some effort. At least, the fostern 
  doesn't look inclined to drive Hershey's tribemates away.

Hershey lifts her head and then whruffs to the others. Naw, you can stay. What 
  the hell?

Hershey's head drops back to Davy's leg.

Shadow Eyes pads over and nuzzles his tribesister. You are going through a 
  dark time, yes?

Hershey wants to leave this stupid city. It stinks.

Shadow Eyes wonders. Where would you go?

Davy sighs a little, but just pets the Gnawer's ruff.

Hershey flickers an ear. Dunno. Maybe south.

White-Eye looks at Hershey. Towards a city there?

Hershey glances over at White-Eye, gloomily. There are plenty of fuckin' 
  cities. Whole fuckin' states fulla cities.

Shadow Eyes is sad you feel like this, but knows what it is like to be linked 
  through the Pack Bond. He wonders what he could do...but has never lost such 
  a close packmate. This one feels somewhat lost as to what to say. Except 
  that he is sorry.

White-Eye nods slightly. This one is sorry, as well.

Hershey's eyes roll upwards toward Davy, hound-dog apologetic. She whines 
  slightly and noses at his hand.

Pete Barlow comes in from the stairs.
Pete Barlow has arrived.

Davy pets the Gnawer, his expression moody. "I can't tell you not to go, 
  Hersh. But it sucks. Either you leave me, or I leave Morgan and Pete and 
  Razor...and Arlen, now, maybe. There's no good way out of that."

Shadow Eyes looks to Davy, then back to his tribemate.

Hershey sighs and drops her head back to Davy's leg. Yeah, I know. I suck too.

Pete Barlow thumps his way down the stairs heavily. As he comes into the 
  light, his face is in a grimace: obviously not a good mood. And his jacket 
  is torn along the right shoulder, less than fresh blood dried there. He 
  offers just a nod of greeting and heads straight for the fridge.

Shadow Eyes nuzzles. You do not. You are cooler than pizza.

White-Eye nods at Shadow Eyes' words, then gives a soft whine when he sees 
  Pete.

Hershey glances guiltily at Chugs and then gives Shadow Eyes a wry, gloomy 
  look. Yeah, well... She sighs. I dunno. Just drives me batshit and then 
  depressed, bein' here. An' I ran into that bastard Get today, and he's 
  walkin' around like nothin' ever happened.

Davy looks at Pete, even though he doesn't move his hand from Hershey. "Who'd 
  you rumble with, Pete?"

Pete Barlow pulls the plastic top of a liter of orange juice as he turns 
  around from the fridge. "Some asshole who used to own a shotgun." The big 
  gnawer tips the container back and chugs a couple large gulps before tossing 
  the cap into the neatly maintained garbage can. He looks at Davy's hand, 
  Hershey's posture, and the others. "What's up?"

Hershey pushes with her forepaws and sits up, turning to face Chugs, though 
  her ears remain down. I'm... I'm thinkin' of takin' a long walk outta town, 
  Unc.

Pete Barlow frowns openly, the liter of oj hanging in his right hand. "Why?"

Hershey averts her eyes. I dunno. The whole city just smells like shit lately. 
  It's depressin'.

Davy crosses his arms, looking between the ahroun and the philodox.

"No, it's the paper mill," says Barlow before tilting the liter back again to 
  chug more of the juice. "You got the itch for the road or what?"

Shadow Eyes simply leans against Hershey, trying to lend support of some kind 
  to his tribemate.

Hershey swings her gaze back up at Pete, her shaggy ears flattened back 
  against her head. Claws was, like, one of the first people I met here, 'n 
  everywhere I go, it's like... I dunno. I remember too much shit. 'N that Get 
  fucker is walkin' around like nothin' even happened. I can't fuckin' stand 
  it no more.

Shadow Eyes tries not to voice his opinion of the fact that Kyle still walks. 
  His tail twitches a bit, and for a few long moments to concentrates on it's 
  white-tipped movement until his ears come back up from their position 
  against his skull.

Pete Barlow gives a shake of his head. "Yeah, he still walks around. We got 
  reason enough to take him out?"

White-Eye growls softly at the mention of Kyle, expresing his own opinion.

Hershey looks away again, scratching at her neck with a hind paw. What fucking 
  good would it do?

"Make us feel better," says Barlow as he finishes the juice. "You got any 
  better ideas?"

Hershey utters a thick, phelgmy growl and hauls herself to her paws, pacing. 
  ~Make us feel better,~ she rumbles, switching to Garou. ~Yeah, 'n then we 
  get _our_ asses hauled on the fuckin' line, 'cos this fuckin' Sept obviously 
  thinks that Get is all cool.~ She stops and gazes at Chugs and the others 
  with a mixture of anger and hopelessness. ~An' then what? We all end up like 
  Shakes-the-Can did? Or Cavall's _first_ alpha?~ Apparently, the halfmoon has 
  been doing some homework.

White-Eye growls softly. ~Would the others have to know who did it?~

Shadow Eyes nods, quickly, with some emotion behind it. He's heard lots of 
  stories. I cannot beleive he still walks free. Tommie, from what I have been 
  told, had no personal hand in anything, yet paid the ultimate price.

Pete Barlow's eyes narrow at the halfmoon's growl, his jaw tightening for a 
  moment. "You're the philodox, Hershey, not me. What should we do? Just walk 
  the fuck away? Is that gonna solve the problem?"

Hershey sits down, looking at none of them. ~I don't know. I can't fuckin' 
  think in this fuckin' city.~

Davy looks unhappy, but he utters the Garou party line. "The halfmoon's 
  cleared him. We have to accept that, even if we don't have to like him."

Shadow Eyes wonders how she arrived at that, sort of?
Shadow Eyes has not smelled her near the park in a long time.

Hershey swings her head up to look at Elan in confusion. What the fuck are you 
  talkin' about, bro? I was at the fucking park just this fucking night.

Shadow Eyes sniffs, and lowers his head a bit. This one was talking of 
  Ravenfeeder.

Shadow Eyes points his muzzle towards Davy. Responding to what he said, just 
  now.

Hershey sneezes. Ravenfeeder's like the fuckin' alpha-bitch halfmoon out 
  there. I've only been out there a few times 'n even _I_ see that. 'N the 
  whole fuckin' Sept agrees with her.

White-Eye snorts softly. I don't.

Pete Barlow shakes his head and tosses the plastic liter into a recycling bin 
  placed along with several others under some shelves, neatly organized. "You 
  do whatever the fuck you want, Hershey. Just remember, you live with 
  whatever choice you make. I skipped town once to get away from the stink 
  around here. It ain't the answer."

Davy echoes, "Running isn't the way."

Hershey falls silent, her ears still flat.

Shadow Eyes nuzz;es Hershey. This one once tried to run. It is bad. Better to 
  stand, and survive. I do not need to tell you of Mama Rat's lessons.

Hershey just huffs a sigh and pads back to Davy, flopping down next to the 
  Fianna.

Pete Barlow looks over at Davy and Hershey after a moment of tense silence. 
  "Do we have any reason to believe that the Get did something against the 
  rules?"

Davy shakes his head. "We still don't know shit, until he comes to tell us."

Hershey remains silent, her mood shifting from gloomy toward apathetic.

Davy relents enough to pet his packmate again, ruffling her fur with his thick 
  strong fingers.

Shadow Eyes looks to Davy. What has he said, if anything. This one finds 
  himself woefully uninformed.

White-Eye settles down next to Shadow Eyes, listening to the others.

Davy finally abruptly stands, apparently not able to take the doom and gloom 
  any more. "I'm rolling," he announces. "Pete, you wanna come look for 
  trouble with me?"

Pete Barlow looks up and nods to Davy, rubbing his shoulder. "No need to look 
  for it, Davy. I've got some punks scoped out that need the rough stuff 
  tonight."

Davy flexes his hands. "Cool. I'll meet you outside." With that, he turns and 
  mounts the stairs, thumping up and out.

Shadow Eyes wags his tail, in way of waving goodbye.

Hershey sighs and curls up on her mattresses, eyes closing.

Shadow Eyes nuzzles Hershey. Good night?

Pete Barlow follows Davy out, pulling on his jacket with a nod to the others. 
  "Go get busy."

Hershey hruffs. Night.

White-Eye whuffs softly. Night.

Shadow Eyes will...try to think of something. I hope you decide to stay. You 
  are a good tribemate, and this one likes you. Take that for what it might be 
  worth. His tail drags as he pads to the door, bumping White-Eye in a 
  friendly manner.

White-Eye nods. I like you, too. he goes to follow Shadow Eyes out.