A Brief Interlude: Bridget and Hunter

[Bridget Simone]
[It’s cold. There’s more snow than even yesterday. It doesn’t matter. Chicagoans are hearty creatures to have to deal with such bitter wind and nasty weather. Bridget is a Canadian, so this weather is somewhat balmy. She’s perched on a park bench in winter gear, writing on some tableture.

She’s furiously scribbling, revising, entirely wrapped up in her work. It’s strange, really… considering her recent explosive mood swings. Right now, her hair is tossed by the wind, pulled as much as possible over to one side. She’s wearing what looks to be an expensive pair of jeans, a down coat that looks like she stole it from a department store. There’s still a thrift-find blue-and-black tartan print men’s scarf around her neck. Fingerless mittens allow her to write, but leave her fingers pink from windchap.

Streetside, cars speed through the plowed streets like they’ve forgotten how to drive. Some plainly don’t know how to navigate increment weather. Sludge sprays up onto mounds of snow piled onto sidewalks.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
Sarita’s 1961 Volkswagon Bus makes its way down the street, windows open and Kanye West’s “Runaway” is blasting out the window. Whether it’s because she actually likes it or just appreciates how much of a douchebag Kanye is…totally up for debate.

The van is a dusty orange color, and like any VW Bus worth owning has a little mural on the side. In Sarita’s case, it’s of a unicorn being ridden by a Boris Vallejo-style female warrior–complete with barely-there golden armor–beheading a dragon while galloping along a double rainbow in space. Basically, the most garish thing she could think of. Underneath, it bares the lines:

“You’re out of your mind.”
“That’s between me and my mind.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
As she drives along, she pauses in her singing along with Kanye–“Let’s have a toast for the douchebags…let’s have a toast for the assholes…” to notice Bridget. She grins a little bit, pulling the Bus along to the side of the street and killing the engine and (thankfully, to some) the CD deck. She slides out of the car, lighting up a hand-rolled cigarette as she comes around the car toward the kinfolk.

Hunter is jogging. Who the hell goes jogging in weather like this? Apparently he does. He’s wearing red sweats, grey hoodie pulled up over his head and beneath it all there are most likely thermals. I mean, there has to be right? How else can a man stay warm wearing cotton on a day like today? Well, the reason is Hunter Matthews isn’t a man. But he jogs just like one, darting down through the middle of Grant Park and weaving around it’s many paths and lanes.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t talk to anyone, doesn’t make eye contact with people and they don’t make eye contact with him. They step aside, they shuffle off the paths when they feel him coming towards them. They move out of seats when he’s running past… well all except that one.. that ones just..

“Bridget!” He says, panting a little and this time he does stop, sits down right next to her and drapes his elbows over the back of the bench. “Hows things?”

[Bridget Simone]
Someone breaks her funk. A body positions itself on the bench next to her, a man says her name, and immediately the girl scrambles to hide her notes. It takes her a few seconds before she knows what’s going on. The Canadian blinks, then turns to look at the Ahroun. He’s panting and asks her how she is.

Funny how they… basically have radar for kinfolk. The Canadian shrugs her shoulders.


[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She arches an eyebrow as Hunter sits down next to Bridget, and she smiles a bit. “Hola amigos.” She hops up onto the curb, taking a lean against a road sign. “How’s it hangin’?”

Um indeed Bridget, um indeed. But he has no time to reply to her straight away. His head tilts up to Sarita and he blinks a few times. Oh yes, her. He remembers her now from the Broho. They met briefly. “Yo.” He says, gives her a smile and a lazy salute.

Kinfolk sit, garou come running. It is the way of things.

“S’good.” He replies to Sarita, “W’bout’chu?”

[Bridget Simone]
“Just working,” she explains. “How are the two of you?”

She pushes her hair behind an ear, looks to Sarita. What the fuck is that van? It’s like…. some 80s music video Brought To You By: Mescaline.

“Hunter… I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I know you’re not the one I should be apologizing to, but Howard…. has a way of bringing out the worst in me.”

A beat.

“I think I’m going to stay far away. It’s a shame Caldera’s the only bunch of Fianna I can get near. I can’t… Hatchet is scary, and I can’t even find Rory.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She gives a little shrug, looking down the length of her smoke at the two. “M’all right. Got myself a task, so I’m all buzzing with proactivity.”

She looks over at Bridget. “Speaking of sorries, sorry about leaving you high and dry the last night. Nervous habit.”

Bridget has apologies, Sarita has apologies, Hunter looks like maybe he should apologise for something. He’s not entire sure what though, so he just stays quiet for a moment, eyes narrowing on Bridget to study her face. He could talk more about it but it can wait, and she can tell that he has something to say about the matter by the look he gets before turning that gaze on Sarita.

“What sorta’ task ya’ got?” He asks, genuinely curious.

[Bridget Simone]
High and dry…. Bridget giggles quietly, then slips her hands into her pockets, the tablet notebook shoved between herself and an arm.

“Yes, it was quite the meeting of Fangs. I didn’t really know what to do. Such a buzzkill, but I didn’t want to like… ruin whatever that thing was, so I just went to my room.”

Hunter seems like he has something to say, but Bridget doesn’t inquire.

“Yeah, what task?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“Tracking down a family member. Name-a Gina.” She exhales a drag of smoke. “Heard her name from a couple of folks and someone said she was in a rough way last she was heard from a couple of months ago. That ain’t something I can let lie.”

“Gina? Shit.. sounds famil– oooh Gina.” He grins. “Tribe mate’mine names Winston hangs’out with her a lot I think. If I catch em I’ll make sure ta’ pass the message along.”

He frowns and looks at Bridget.

“That goes for Rory too, I’m sure she can be found if ya’ really wanna speak to her.”

[Bridget Simone]
“Oh, I remember her!” Bridget chimes in.

“She was the… the dancer? She did bellydancing, I think? We jammed out in the park a couple times right after I moved here, but I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

The Canadian perks up a bit.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“I’d appreciate that.” She smiles a little to Hunter. “I’ll never claim to be a model member of the Nation–though I do have the proper articulated parts–but fuck if I’m gonna leave one-a ours down and out.”

“Well shit ye, if she’s hangin’ out with Winston she musn’t be doin’ too fuckin’ good at all can tell ya’ that.”

He laughs, of course he can laugh about this. It isn’t his tribes kinfolk and in his tribes eyes she is probably doing just fine in life.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“I’m just glad I know someone who knows someone who knows her. So far what I heard was ‘Uhh, she lives in this generic area,’ which unfortunately isn’t as helpful as one might think.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“Or ‘lived,’ I should say.”

[Bridget Simone]
Bridget shivers and says nothing, trying to conserve warmth.

“Oh she lives, saw her few days ago in this here very park. Didn’t seem too cheerful, but she didn’t seem like she was fuckin’ dyin’ of the plague or nuthin’.”

He stuffs his hand into the pocket of his sweats and pulls out a red sweat-band, chucks it on his head. He looks ridiculous.

“I’ll get in touch with Winston though, make sure everythin’s fine. You said you’re family?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
That brightens her expression considerably. The best she’d heard, Gina hadn’t been seen in months. “Yeah. In the general family line kinda way, not direct relation. How ’bout I give you my cell, you can pass it on?”

Her expression brightens, and Hunters brightens along with it. He didn’t know that she thought the kinfolk might be god damn dead, if he had he might have been quicker about telling her that he had seen her recently. He hadn’t noticed anything too off about the owlet when he had seen her, but she had been awfully quiet.

Then again, most owls are.

“Ye,” He says lazily and nods his head. “Ain’t got no phone on me though, you’ll have’ta write it down for me.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“Sweet.” She holds up a finger to ask for a moment, and heads over to the VW Bus. The passenger door is open and she leans into it, half hanging out as she gets a piece of paper and scribbles on it.

He stretches while he waits, and not the athletic type of stretches. He lifts his arms over his head and yawns, mouth stretching wide while his whole torso tenses and then relaxes.

“Aaaaoahhhoooo” He says, then pats is mouth briefly. That felt good.

It’s only early evening, but Hunter Matthews looks like he could have been in bed hours ago. Garou live strange lives.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She comes back with a piece of paper with her phone number written on it, as well as a note:

“Gina — Got your name from locals. I’m Sarita, one of your kinswoman. Gimme a call when you can, I’d love to talk to you and see how you’re doing. Tribesmates gotta stick together. Love, S–”

She hands it over with a nod and smile. “You da Man.”

He takes the note, doesn’t even pretend to show it any privacy. He just blatantly reads it right in front of her. At least he’s honest. Hey, if he’s sending messages he wants to know what they say.

After he’s done he smiles, folds it in half and stuffs it into his pocket.

“No probs Sarita, that why you came into town? Lookin’ for Gina? Or other way round?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She doesn’t seem to mind that he read it. Hell, if she’d not wanted him to, she’d have sealed it up, or written it in invisible ink or the like. She smiles a bit and shakes her head.

“Naah, we actually came here more looking for a new place to hang our hat, get in on some action. I just heard about Gina couple times over the last week, and like I said, I ain’t one to leave brethren out in the cold.”

“Ah, I see’s.” And he nods his head a few times, pushes himself up off the chair. He takes a few deep breaths, stretching his right arm across his left shoulder while his eyes drop down to Bridget sitting on the bench.

“I’mma finish ma’ run.” He states, then when he’s finished stretching his arm he holds out his hand to Sarita. “Nice meetin’ ya again, hope Chicago treats ya’ well ye?”

[Bridget Simone]
Bridget also excuses herself, checking a new, nice-looking watch. “Yes, I have a lesson I have to teach in about a half hour. If I don’t start walking now, I won’t make it.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She nods. “Nice seeing you both. I’m sure I’ll see you around later.”

[Sceeeneee! Sorry have a one shot to do in under an hour and need to get some lunch thanks for the play!]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
[[No worries. 🙂 Any play is good! Thanks for the scene.]]


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